When I was a wee thing, my parents moved out the the Highly dubious condo in East Palo Alto and into a relatively nice suburban neighborhood, into a house immediately across the street from my new elementary school. Immediate, as in, less than 40 feet from the traffic circle. Mom would wave at me from the driveway sometimes while I was in class. This should have made getting me to and from school easy, but there was an issue:
I still had to cross the street, and because I was living in the over-caffeinated heart of silicon valley at the time, that meant dodging the local commuters barreling through the school zone at upwards of 40 miles per hour with no regard for the stop signs.
The flashing “School Zone” signs were ignored. The city refused to put in speed bumps or devote extra patrol cars. One of my classmates grandmother’s volunteered as crossing guard, and some jackass in a BMW ran over her foot on the first day.
Now, mom declared as we drove Mrs. Manchez to the hospital her foot in a beer cooler full of ice, Would be a good time to take the law into my own hands.
So after dropping Mrs. Manchez off at the hospital, we drove to the thrift store, where my mom found a navy blazer, aviator sunglasses, a pilot’s cap and an old, clunky-looking hair dryer.
The next morning, mom went out to the sidewalk in her new “uniform”, with the hair dryer and a legal pad so she could write down the grocery list. Every time a car would come roaring down the road, Mom would look up, point the hairdryer at them, and, and write something down.
I remember listening to brakes squeal all day the first time she tried it, Mercedes and BMWs screeching to a crawl as they passed the school, glaring at her. By that afternoon, cars were creeping along at an over-cautious 10mph, and I was able to get home without taking my life into my hands.
After that, Mom went out “in uniform” every couple of days, because intermittent re-enforcement is what REALLY gets a change in behavior going, and point the hair dryer at anyone speeding through the school zone, usually while writing down grocery lists or short stories, or drawing unflattering caricatures of the other PTA moms.
Eventually, however, one of the cars that came through was a patrol car, and he slowly pulled to a halt in front of mom, glaring at her though his own reflective glasses.
She smiled an waved the hair dryer. “Good afternoon!”
“…What’re you doing?” he groaned, 3 in the afternoon entirely too early for this shit.
“Writin’ a grocery list.” She beamed, and when that failed to satisfy him, she explained about the speeding problem and that if they couldn’t send a partol car out here to ticket people regularly, she figured that a hair dryer would be the next best thing. Working like a charm so far. They didn’t even notice the little airplanes on the Pilot’s hat.
The officer stared at her for a moment longer before his face broke out into a slow grin. “Y’know, when we’re out of a car, we usually wear visibility vests. So more people see you and your… Phaser.”
And that’s the story of how Mom and Officer Brown met and started the neighborhood watch program.
You know, if anyone can come up with a good reason to hate Joker/Harley other than the fact that it’s abusive or that Ivy “isn’t abusive” (or some other related argument), then I will gladly hear you out.
For the record, any arguments why Ivy/Harley should be a thing instead of Joker/Harley are invalid. I wanna know reasons why Joker/Harley shouldn’t be a thing.
EDIT: I’m not trying to say the fact that it’s abusive isn’t a good reason. But for the shippers who knows that it is indeed abusive and DO NOT condone that abuse, it’d be nice to not be lectured on something that we are completely aware of.
“Neighborhood Watch” (S3E13) is a good episode of White Collar to watch if you want to get a primer on the Neal/Peter/Elizabeth dynamic, in which Peter tries desperately to keep the team average on the “lawful” side of lawful good, Elizabeth Does What Elizabeth Wants, and Neal just leans into the skid.
“Friendly Neighborhood Watch” | Young Sam x Reader | FLUFF
WARNINGS: suggestive, language
WORD COUNT: 6,485
DESCRIPTION: There are four days left of school before Graduation Day. It’s so goddamn obvious you and your childhood best friend Samuel Drake feel the same thing for each other… but you won’t say anything because you don’t want to risk your established friendship, and Sam doesn’t want to say anything because he can’t risk giving himself away. But when two people are a perfect match for each other, some things are bound to be revealed sooner or later.
This is technically Part 2 of “Trick of the Light”, but you don’t have to read that in order to understand this (regardless I’ll still leave the link to it below). I’m really pleased with how this one came out because it just makes my heart so happy like aw Sam :,)) It switches between Reader and Samuel so sorry if it’s kinda unclear as to whose POV you’re reading from haha *sweats intensely*
Inspired by this song (Rather Be With You - Sinead Harnett)
The only reason why you were with Rafe Adler in the first place was because you were lonely.
Well, more like the one guy you were ever seriously in to never paid attention to you the way you wanted him to, and conveniently, Rafe Adler transferred to your shithole high school and you thought he’d be a lovely distraction.
Except that, despite getting together with Rafe, you still couldn’t get over your one true crush.
The boy next door, your childhood sweetheart, your best friend: Samuel Drake.
You remember precisely when you started crushing hard on that boy. You were in middle school, still in your semi-awkward tween stage, lost in the masses of equally confused prepubescent boys and girls trying to find their places in the social hierarchy. Sam was one of the popular kids; he and his little brother were both notorious for their mischievous methods of cutting class and their bright, cheeky grins. Always the one with extravagant (although mostly exaggerated) tales of adventures, it was expected for girls and boys to flock around Samuel Drake. His heady Bostonian voice and loopy grin managed to light up any room he walked into; Samuel Drake had this laid-back, passionate, and approachable dynamic.
And on top of that… it was almost painful how good-looking he was.