#( steph ; inspo )

[welcometogrouchland]

I understand that literature nerd Jason Todd is kind of overblown in fanon compared to it's actual presence in canon (a few issues during his pre (and post?)crisis Robin tenure that highlight it) BUT consider that I think it's hilarious if the unhinged gun toting criminal has strong opinions on poetry

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2025: BLACKFISH CITY by Sam J. Miller.

Finished this last night! The jacket copy starts, "When a strange new visitor arrives in a floating city in the Arctic--humanity's last hope after the ravage of climate change--the city is entranced. She's riding an orca and has a polar bear at her beck and call," and, honestly, I'm sold (love a good floating city!).

I adored the setting and the worldbuilding--supremely cool city that was thoughtfully developed--and I loved how the narrative came together at the end. All the POV characters felt distinct (thank heck, because there were Many of them), and I had a fun time figuring out how to piece all the relationships together and percolating on The Science. Overall had a great time!

[andro-dino]

If you were the one I’m thinking of (woah)

Oh babe I’d let you know

[batfamfucker]

Pavitr reminds me of Dick so much. They would be besties and bond over their hair together 😭

[gruesomejack]

I'm burning and I'm blacking my lungs

Boy, you know it feels good with fire back on your tongue

[whenweallvote]

We're back with another Choose Your Look: Super Tuesday Edition! 🗳️

Which outfit of our Co-Chairs' would YOU rock to cast your ballot in one of tomorrow's 16 primary elections and caucuses? Comment your fav below, then make sure you're registered to vote at weall.vote/register.

P.S: You can cop Chris Paul’s green "When We All Vote" baseball cap for yourself at www.whenweallvote.org/store! 🧢

[firewvlk]

Look who just woke up- is that HAILEE STEINFELD? No, I must have been mistaken, that’s STEPHANIE “STEPH” GINGRICH from LIFE IS STRANGE. I heard they are 25 and stuck here just like everyone else. Even in the 20’s, she still gives off a QUEER & PROUD, QUEEN OF THE NERDS, MUSICAL POWERHOUSE, NEVER BEING WITHOUT A BEANIE, DND DICE, OR DRUM STICKS, AND A DON’T TOUCH MY STUFF impression. But here, they are working as a RADIO DJ. They’re known to be quite PASSIONATE & CREATIVE, but have a tendency to be RESTLESS & FLIGHTY on their bad days.

gender/pronouns:

cisfemale & she/her

how long have they been in sydney:

real time: a little under a year

fake time: her whole life

which suburb do they live in:

king’s cross

personality description:

steph was & is often dubbed as the queen of nerds & indoor kids, due to her love of dnd/tabletop games, video games, comics, & sci-fi stuff. she’s fairly laid back and easily makes friends, but can get easily annoyed at people making dumb choices. if you’re an asshole she has no time for you, she’s not big on drama, and prefers to just avoid it. she’s extremely loyal & faithful to people she loves, and will have their backs no matter what. but at the same time, she has a habit of pushing people away when they get too close, due to past trauma and pain.

memories of their real life:

she has all her memories from the events of before the storm & true colors.

what was their fake life like:

tba after plotting

[arguablysomaya]

fashion baby

outfit inspos: dick | cass | jason | steph | tim | duke | damian

[flwrkid14]

Tim and Jason: Caught Between Healing and Fear

note: completely inspired by this amazing post! tysm to @timdrakewhump for letting me use it as inspo!! <33

Tim doesn’t flinch around Jason. Not exactly. It’s more of a stiffening, a tightening of his shoulders, a flicker in his eyes that he knows Jason catches. He hates it. Everyone else has moved on. Dick forgave. Bruce rebuilt. Even Damian, with all his sharp edges, has softened into something survivable. But Tim? He still expects a hit that doesn’t come, still hears the echo of fists in the dark.

And that? That’s on him, right? It has to be. Because if everyone else can move on, why can’t he?

They don’t talk about it. Not directly. The bats have always been good at side-stepping, at smoothing over the cracks with enough shared history to pretend the damage never happened. They act like everything’s fixed, like Jason is something fragile they have to keep close, hold together. They ignore the way Tim’s shoulders tense when Jason’s voice gets too loud, the way his hands shake when shadows fall just right. They brush off his excuses to leave the room or, worse, look at him like he’s the problem.

“Jason’s trying, Tim.” “He’s better now.” “Don’t hold onto the past.”

But Tim isn’t holding on. He’s bracing.

Every patrol with Jason is a test. Every sparring match, a gamble. Jason keeps it light—punches pulled, jabs softened with crooked smiles—but Tim knows what Jason’s hands are capable of. He remembers the brutality, the raw fury that doesn’t vanish just because it’s been filed down to something more manageable. He knows Jason’s trying. He knows Jason’s better. But there’s a thin line between better and safe, and Tim’s still learning how to balance on it.

When Jason starts spending more time at the manor, no one questions it. They welcome him with open arms, eager to fill the empty spaces his absence left. He’s part of the family, they say. He needs support, they insist. So Jason sits at the dinner table, helps out on patrol, lounges on the couch like he’s always belonged there. And Tim... Tim watches from the corner of the room, a shadow on the periphery, pretending he doesn’t notice the way everyone else orbits around Jason like he’s the sun.

They send Tim on solo missions now—so Jason can have space. They say it like it’s a good thing, like they’re doing Tim a favor. More responsibility, more autonomy. He should be grateful. And he is. Or he would be, if it didn’t feel like being exiled. The irony isn’t lost on him. They don’t want Jason to be alone, so Tim has to be.

The apartment is quieter than the manor, the kind of quiet that presses in too close. No hum of the Cave, no distant footsteps of someone always nearby. It’s fine. He’s used to it. He tells himself that every night, like a mantra. He likes the solitude. It’s familiar, comforting in a way that makes his chest ache. But sometimes, when the silence stretches too thin, he thinks about calling. Jason always picks up now. He’d probably offer to come over, bridge the gap that Tim never asked to be there.

But what would Tim say? Sorry I still see the blood on your knuckles? Sorry I can’t forget how it felt to be the replacement? Sorry you came back, and I thought it would fix things, but it didn’t?

He doesn’t call.

They’re terrified of losing Jason again. They hold him close, desperate, like he might slip through their fingers if they let go for even a second. Tim understands that. He really does. He remembers the hollow ache that filled the manor after Jason died, the way grief settled into the walls like a permanent stain. No one wants to go through that again. They’d do anything to keep Jason safe, to keep him here.

But no one asks what Tim gave up. What he’s still giving up.

Jason is here, but Tim feels like he’s the ghost.

Sometimes, when they’re all gathered together—Bruce at the head of the table, Dick and Steph cracking jokes, Duke helping himself to another slice of pie—Tim looks around and wonders if anyone would notice if he slipped away. Just stood up, walked out, and didn’t come back. Would they miss him? Or would they be too busy watching Jason, making sure he doesn’t disappear again?

He catches Jason watching him sometimes, eyes sharp and knowing. Jason’s not stupid. He sees the cracks. Tim wonders if he feels guilty, or if he’s just waiting for Tim to say something, to break the silence that’s grown too thick between them. But Tim won’t. He can’t. The words stick in his throat, heavy and bitter.

So he stays quiet. He goes on solo missions, patrols alone, comes back to an empty apartment that feels less like home every day. And he tells himself it’s enough.

Because it has to be.

[wynterval]

Do you think batman had someone (magic or otherwise) put up a mindlink for everyone in the family so they can talk to each other without *talking* to each other...

*batman in a JL meeting, tuning out the others and listening to his kids fight about luigi and waluigi because he's bored*

Duke: all I'm saying is that waluigi could be an obsessed ex that wanted to get back luigi

Jason: and I'm saying you're WRONG! Waluigi is the perfect example of a hater that keeps on hating. I mean look at him, the guy is mocking luigi by looking LIKE him!

Tim: that's sounds familiar.... Jason, did you take inspo from waluigi? Is this you're way of saying that you're a fan of WALUIGI?!?!?!

Steph: *shaking her head* for shame, Jay. I expected better from you.... I thought you were team Peach, but turns out you're nothing but a sham

*JL still talking, asking for opinions*

Superman : .... And thank you Diana for your insight. Batman, anything you'd like to add?

Batman: *still able to pay attention to the meeting despite all that*.... Yes, I think we should add more countermeasures just in case....

[redridcr]

Give me Liselotte with a decent noble upbringing in Ferelden. Give me her being married off for an alliance, fine with her duty and wanting a child (or many). Give me that child being taken away because court life is not appropriate for an infant. Give me her making friends and watching them be picked off one by one by poison and private trespasses. Give me her not knowing that the culprit is in the room.

[tornadeoqueen]

love can be fun, a hangster rodeo au

“No shit, you’re a Bradshaw Bradshaw?”

“Yup, Bradley Bradshaw, in the flesh.” Looking out at the crowd again, he nods his head at someone across the room who called his name.

“And you don’t ride? Because I would have known if you rode with a dumbass name like that.” Bradley just rolls his eyes. “Shit, what a waste of talent,” Jake laments, sipping his drink with a shake of his head.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Bradley drawls, “I get my thrills in other ways.” Another salacious once over, enough to send a rush of heat through Jake’s body. The insinuation is clear, heavy. Jake grins like the cat that got the cream.

or,

summer romance montage, rodeo fic style.

——

Happy birthday @hangmanbradshaw ❤️!!!

I wrote my first ever fic!!! I’ve been working on it all year and it’s finally here!!! It’s also my birthday present to Steph, one of my favourite people in the world and without whom this fic wouldn’t exist.

Title and inspo for the fic come from I’m Gonna Getcha Good! By Shania Twain.

You can read it on ao3.

[gruesomejack]

Honestly that never happened

Lying is your favorite passion

[dickgraysonmybeloved]

Steph, muffling her laugh: you good? Tim, exhausted: yeah, probably Tim: *immediately falls over*

inspo from a post by @geasthewritingrat

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

Master fic post-

The Drakes Spoiled Brat (im sorry dad.) WIP- 76.3k (14 chapters)

Summary- Tim Drake Centric, Tim dies as Red Robin only to wake up w/ the past 12 years of his life erased. Now he makes it his personal mission to help his family even when no longer one of them, helped by his various personas to navigate his quadruble life. But nothing stays secret forever and hiding in plain sight from the bats will only work for so long. Time is running out (in more way than one)

Mama Bird (but its your brother ready to fight god) WIP- 10.9k (5 chapters)

Summary- Tim Drake Centric, Tim just wants to get a case done but needs the Batcomputer. Its sheer circumctance hes in the cave when Robin and Batman finish patrol. But when Batman attacks Damian over a fear gas incident? Tim might push the lines of "no kill code" Followed by lots of core four + extended siblings comfort and coming to terms with bad dad bruce wayne.

Extra info-

As of right now all of this is about the Drakes Spoiled Brat since my other fic is BRAND new

Concept for "The Drakes Spoiled Brat" comes from a post by @brucewaynehater101 (whom I adore) linked here (I know nothing about their original inspo tho)

Asks/Bonus lore-

Tim Drakes Grave??

Memes pt 1

Memes pt 2

Firefighter Dick Grayson

Long hair tim??

"Im an only child now"

Founding of Mama bird

Tim vs Timothy headcanons

Rouge gallary

Fanart/Character art-

Gala scene- (Credit myself)

Family Guy Tim- (Credit also me)

Cafe concept art + Character info (me again)

Gay Panic Steph ( @ ihavenotsleptindays)

Steph + Alan panic ( @ yjcorefourenjoyer)

Cafe Staff art + Info (still me)

Fic inspired by mine!! (they dont have a tumblr)

Cafe staff renders!! CONSIDERED MOST CANON

Mama Bird Tim- "Bats dont kill" ( @ ihavenotsleptindays)

Steph Narration panel (- @ neclasy)

Faces of Tim renders (Credit- Me)

Timothy will sue ( @burglar-bird)

Damian- Threat Timothy- Proud ( @ yjcorefourenjoyer)

Badass Cardinal ( @r eader-from-another-dimension)

Cafe crew Pokemon form ( @ reader-from-another-dimension)

Trifecta Timmy ( @ reader-from-another-dimension)

Pie & Grandpa ( @ shrugsinchinese)

Long hair Timmy ( @ twoarrsandonesea)

Queen bee Tim ( @ reader-from-another-dimension)

Reflection ( @ arty-cosmo)

Painting (@ reader-from-another-dimension)

Wisp (@ twoarrsandonesea)

The Drakes (@ neclasy)

Whats missing? (@ arty-cosmo)

Nepo baby (@ nicecupofangst)

Pigeon Book (@ arty-cosmo)

BLENDER TIME!! (@ arty-cosmo)

Cardinal % his birbs (@ reader-from-another-dimension)

Cardinal & Birbo (@ joyliit)

Spooky Eyes Cardinal (@ primthegreat)

Snatched waist <33 (@ runningoncoffeandspite)

GWENNN!!! (@ mockingjaylad)

Cardinal & Wisp cuddles (@ arty-cosmo)

Sassy Cardinal (@ 1tabbymore)

Wisp & Cardinal piccy (@nicecupofangst)

Cardinal Doodle (@a-single-anonymous-duck)

Collage!! (@joyliit)

Sketches!!! (@reader-from-another-dimension)

UwU Tim (@screaming-but-also-hhh)

[samkerrworshipper]

Please could you do an imagine with Lucy bronze where the reader is also on the England team and gets injured during a game and Lucy is basically just being really cute and fluffy as well as a little protective 🥰

AHHH

I loved this request sm so here you go!

i feel like this could be followed up with a part 2 to expand on the reader and lucy’s relationship so lmk if you want to see that! also please feel free to keep sending in requests god knows i need inspo rn lol

A shoulder to cry on

Lucy Bronze x Reader

fluff, lil bit of angst, injury, graphic injury, pain, hurt/comfort, 3200 words

blurb: when lucy’s girlfriend goes down in a match how does she deal with it and how does lucy look react

I was too busy watching the ball flying towards goal to see the body flying at me. Too busy focusing on the Australian goalkeeper to acknowledge the knees slowly sliding under my own feet. Too busy focusing on getting my team a goal to give us a chance to stop myself from being floored by the Australian whirlwind, Ellie Carpenter. I went head first into the turf, my body flopping down onto the grass with my head dug into the dirt. My ears were ringing and I was a groaning mess. My whole body hurt and I couldn’t even muster the energy to turn over to access the damage that had been inflicted. All I could feel was gut wrenching pain, from my feet all the way to my hip.

When I was finally turned over I was met with the sight of Ellie and Steph Catley, two Australians that I didn’t want to see right now. I was a screaming, shaking, crying mess. Both women were very clearly taken aback by my emotion. The stadium was a ruckus, and as my teary eyes flashed up I saw my goal being replayed on the big screen, a goal. At least that was something, I’d done something to help us claw our way back. We were 100 days off from the World Cup start though, 100 days. Judging by the amount of pain I was in though that was nowhere near enough time.

As a professional athlete there is always the background fear that you are going to get injured. An overwhelming worry constantly in the back of your head that maybe this time it is going to be your last, maybe the next time you step on the field it might be the last time in a while. As you become a professional, as you start playing for your nation you learn to silence that part of your brain, you can’t afford to live in fear that you are going to get hurt. But watching teammates, friends, people you love get hurt, reinstalls that part of your brain, makes you wonder if maybe you are next, maybe next time it’ll be your turn. That fear though, it’s nothing in comparison to actually getting hurt, nothing in comparison to realising maybe this time it actually is your last.

That was all I could think about as the two Australian women tried to talk to me, tried to communicate with me. The first one of my teammates to rush over was Leah, who shoved both Australians away before crouching down beside me.

“Hey y/n, take a deep breath, the medics are about to get here, you don’t need to worry.”

Leah’s words were like a breath of fresh air, a break from the constant ringing in my ears.

“L-ucy, need Lucy.”

Leah nodded at me, smiling down at my face and nodding. Her hand made it’s way down to my face and wiped away the tears that were falling.

“She’s on her way angel, just stay patient for me, she’s making her way over, just take those deep breaths.”

“Hurts, hurts so fucking bad.”

Leah nodded at me, I watched her eyes creep down my body to my legs and that was how I knew it was bad, because not even Leah could avoid looking.

“I know, I know angel, I am so sorry that I can’t do anything about that. Just keep taking those deep breaths for me.”

I couldn’t help but continue to sob as I waited for someone, anyone to give me some kind of relief. All I could feel was pain and it was clear in Leah’s mannerisms that she didn’t really know how to help me, how was she supposed to help me?

“Y/n, listen to me, take a deep breath, I know you are in pain, the medics are getting here as fast as they can so you just need to take some deep breaths.”

It didn’t help that we were positioned on the opposite side of the field that the medics would be on and it was also a problem that if the umpire hadn’t blown her whistle they wouldn’t be allowed on.

“How bad is it?”

The words left my mouth in between sobs and breaths. Leah clearly didn’t know what to say, she clearly didn’t want to worry me any more but Leah wasn’t a good liar and she had a shit poker face.

“Don’t worry about that, keep your eyes on me. It’s just me and you, kiddo.”

Leah had taken me under her wing long ago, she treated me like her little sister.

I watched her eyes flash up in a panic and before I knew it she was jumping off of her feet and rushing off in the direction behind my head. I couldn’t help but turn my head to watch where she was going. I was still a little bit spaced out so it took me a few seconds to spot her out but once I did I found her rushing towards Ellie, who was sitting a few metres behind me. I couldn’t figure out why she was rushing over until I spotted Lucy approaching, running towards her, a look of absolute anger on her face. Leah was trying to get to her before Lucy inevitably got to Ellie. I watched it unfold as Lucy just made it to Ellie before Leah did, yanking her up by under her armpits.

I didn’t get to see much more, my head was pulled back to being flat on the turf by Millie and Sam Kerr, my ex-teammates from Chelsea.

“Hey y/n/n, the medics are just about to get here, it’s going to be alright.”

Millie’s tone of voice was similar to that of Leah’s, calm, patient, the voice of a captain.

“I need Lucy.”

Lucy was my other half. The love of my life, my everything. I wanted her, I wanted her to be there to hold my hand and to tell me that everything was going to be fine, even if it wasn’t.

“I know, Leah’s sorting her out, she’ll be here in a minute.”

Lucy was insanely protective over me, to a concerning degree. In the past year I’d made the decision to move to Barca, to be with her and it had been great but something I’d learnt from playing alongside her regularly was that she was a little bit too protective over the people she loved. A defender did so much as foul me on the pitch and she did everything in her power to seek some sort of revenge whether it was in the form of physically hurting them or doing anything in her power to get to them.

“I need her Mil, please.”

Millie nodded at me and then looked at Sam, I was in fucking shambles.

“I’ll go get her okay, feel better kid.”

Sam patted me gently on the shoulder before leaving just me and Millie. I was still lying on the pitch, fighting back more tears as I looked up into the sky and just prayed for this to all be over, for the pain to subside and for everything to just dissipate.

The medics were the next people to make it over to us, accompanied by Sarina and our trainer. The game had obviously been stopped for me so they seemed to be in a rush to get me off, with my goal we had a shot at winning now.

“Hi Ms y/l/n, how are you feeling?”

“In pain.”

My answer was flat and the medic let out an empty laugh at my reply.

“Okay, on a scale of 1-10 where would you put yourself at?”

“A 6.”

Sarina snorted at my reply, she knew that I had a high threshold for pain, I’d met her originally when I was playing as a rookie for Chelsea, she’d been the Netherlands coach at time and the coach for a professional team in the Netherlands which she’d tried to recruit me for but I’d turned her down. I’d never have guessed a few years later she would be coaching me on a National level.

“That means its a nine.”

I glared at Sarina, she knew me a little bit too well.

“Okay, this is a penthrox whistle, it should administer immediate pain relief, enough that we should be able to get you on the stretcher and off the pitch.”

I looked at Millie, then at Sarina, then at the Medic, immediately shaking my head.

“I’m walking off.”

All of their faces told me that I was missing something.

“I can’t allow you to do that.”

In all of the chaos, all of the emergence, I hadn’t had the opportunity to even look at the source of my pain.

Before I could say anything more Lucy was crouching down beside my head and I couldn’t have been more grateful to see her. Her hand slid into mine and just her face, her smile, it was enough to make me feel like I wasn’t fighting a fucking battle.

“Luce, can you please tell them to let me walk off the pitch, just let me have that.”

I was fighting back tears and I could tell that Lucy was fighting an internal battle. Her eyes flashed down to my legs and then back to my face and just the split second gasp was enough to tell me that it was bad, really bad. Her hand fell to my face and that was how I knew it was not good and that was when I started sobbing again.

“How bad is it? Stop beating around the bush just tell me.”

All of the people above me looked between each other before the medic spoke,

“Your knee is dislocated, you’ve got some deep lacerations and stud marks in your shins and a piece of your tibia is sticking out of one of them. You are bleeding a lot, we need to get you off the field and to hospital, take the green whistle and we’ll get you off the field as soon as possible.”

Those words hurt, a lot, more than the injury itself. I nodded to the medic, I wasn’t walking off the field with that list of injuries, I was surprised I was still conscious with that comprise of injuries.

“Baby, just take the pain meds, you're in enough pain.”

Lucy’s voice, her convincing was probably the only thing that made me nod my head and let them pass me the inhaler. I got straight to inhaling it, and within the first ten or so inhalation I felt the pain relief start to kick in. It was good, it made me feel almost ten times better. Lucy was there the whole time, whispering sweet nothings into my ear as they medic attended to my legs and Sarina wrapped a blanket around my shivering upper half.

It was about five minutes before I was floating on a pain free drug induced cloud. When that happened they started to transfer me to the stretcher, with the help of Sarina, Lucy, Millie, Leah and the two medics. It was a touchy process, they were very clearly trying to keep the movement of my leg limited. The actual movement of getting me onto the stretcher had me screaming, pain relief or not it hurt insanely and I knew at that moment that my World Cup dreams were pretty much over. I cried the whole way to the ambulance. Lucy and my teammates had to desert me once I made it over to the sideline so they could finish off the game, eventually, along the way I passed out from the mixture of drugs and blood loss, something I was grateful for.

When I started to stir I had a headache but I felt warm. It took me a few seconds before I cracked my eyes, it was dark outside, my room was dark. But not so dark that I couldn’t make out everything around me, the lights from the hallway and machines giving me a steady source of light. The first thing that I saw was that a big percentage of the Lionesses were piled into the room, Georgia, Leah and Keira and piled onto a pull out sofa, Rachel, Millie and Mary sharing the spare cot beside me and a few of the other girls scattered in seats across the room. It was cute, looking at all of my teammates who were clearly gassed from the game but still here. Sarina and Lucy were slumped in the seats immediately to my side. Just as I let my eyes float over to Lucy her own blueish eyes tiredly connecting with my own. A tight lipped smile made its way to her mouth as she acknowledged me.

“Hey baby.”

Her voice was hushed, it was clear she was trying her hardest not to awaken any of our teammates. As she blinked away the sleep she slipped her glasses over her face, locking her eyes properly with me once the frames were slipped over her eyes. Her voice was enough to put more tears in my eyes, I was pretty sure I’d cried enough tears for about six people.

She stood up quietly, letting her hand fall to my face, gently rubbing a circle against my cheek. It was enough to have my lip trembling and my eyes darting across the room. Before I knew it I was a pleading staggering mess.

“Why me? Why now?”

Lucy’s facial expression just broke into a frown and I could feel her worrying from a few centimetres away from me. Before she said anything she pressed her lips to my forehead. I sobbed into her, not really worried about waking up any of our companions.

“I know sweetheart, I know, it’s okay, I’m going to be here for you every step of the way.”

My breaths came out in hiccups and the hospital gown I was in clung to my body with the sweat that I was producing from working myself up.

“How bad is it, did we win?”

My words came out in pieces, it sounded like my Spanish, which was very rough and not very consistent.

“No, but don’t worry about that. They relocated your knee, you had to have surgery on your leg but it’s just a metal plate and some stitches for the lacerations from Carpenter’s boot.”

I honestly felt bad for the Australian defender, she’d had it bad enough with the press for the last while, let alone getting someone else’s blood all over their cleats.

“So my world cup dream is over.”

Lucy let the words hang in the air for a few seconds, it solidified the words in the room.

“Hey, not necessarily. The doctor said that the surgery went really well, that the fracture was pretty minor and that he expects a speedy recovery. You could be back running in 4-6 weeks.”

Even Lucy didn’t sound that optimistic, it was clear she was trying her hardest but she was struggling.

“My fitness will be shot, 4-6 weeks off the pitch pre world cup practically guarantees my spot gone, even if I’m running, in what world would Sarina take the chance of putting me on the pitch.”

Lucy’s brow furrowed, it was hard to catch in the dim light but I managed to with my eyes adjusting to the darkness.

“I won’t have anyone putting my girl down, especially not you. You will be fine. I can’t promise you that you will make it back on the pitch, you will make it to Australia, if it’s the right fit. Maybe it won’t be, maybe that’s fate and I know that’s shit to accept, shit to get the short straw and I am so sorry that you are in that position. If I could switch with you I would. I would do anything for you and you know that, I’ll be here for you everyday, I will give up anything to make this easier for you, I can promise you that. I can promise that I’m here to be whatever you need. You need a shoulder to cry on? I’ve got two. You need someone to listen? I’ve got two working ears and great advice if you want it. You need someone to just be here for you? I will sit with you for as long as you need.”

Lucy’s words hit home for me. She had always been willing to do anything for me, she’d walk to the ends of the earth to do anything for me, she’d made that clear from when we’d first met. I’d been apprehensive from the beginning but she’d fought and fought until I’d given into her and when I had I’d fallen head over heels in love with the woman.

I moved myself over in the bed and patted down next to the space I’d left open beside me. Luc seemed apprehensive to begin with, her eyes darting between my leg and my eyes.

“Please, I just want my girlfriend to hug me, can I have that?”

Lucy bit her lip, she was clearly a little bit nervous about the idea but her slumped shoulders and tired eyes were enough to tell me that she was tired and just as needy as I was. Neither of us slept well without the other, on the rare occasion that we were separated we both struggled with the loss of contact.

“I’m not sure y/n/n, I don’t want to hurt your leg.”

She was so cute when she was nervous, her voice a nervous murmur. I put her worry to rest fairly quickly though, the pain meds were running through my veins and I was equally as tired.

“Luce, my bad leg is on the other side, I just need some contact, I need to feel loved and comfortable and this hospital bed is making that hard, so please, just hug your girlfriend.”

Lucy sighed and nodded at me, she couldn’t deny me, ever, I had her wrapped around my little finger.

“Alright, how about I slide behind you and you can rest against me?”

It took a little bit of push and shove and some wincing and pain on my side but eventually we got Lucy situated behind me, up against the pillows. I was resting comfortably against her chest and stomach, my head resting in her neck. It was everything I’d needed to make me feel a little bit better and once we’d both gotten settled I smiled up at her gratefully. She pressed her lips to my forehead, I swore that I could feel the compassion behind it but maybe that was the morphine speaking.

“I love you.”

She’d smiled down in that goofy way that she did when I gave her a compliment. Lucy was a goofball, it was one of the things that I loved about her. She was always laughing and making people around her laugh, she was just full of good energy and it made me a better person.

“I love you too, my love, always, get some rest. It’s all going to be okay.”