#and we (listeners) do too. but tim does not let him get away w that shit

[scholarhect]

jontim would’ve been SOOOO good if it was actually anything like all us gay people on the internet imagined it was. and i know that’s literally what shipping is and it’s fine but it’s kind of funny to me that we all saw two bisexual men with a compelling angst arc and made it like 4x as compelling and angsty and invented sexual tension that wasn’t actually there. like it took me months to realize that jon & tim never had any actual romantic chemistry and we were all just going insane over their potential to have possibly had romantic chemistry off-screen. actually i was wrong we didn’t make their arc more compelling, it was good already, but we did invent the romance bit. can’t stress that enough. and we were right to

[bluejayblueskies]

10 for the hug prompts with JonMartin? 🥺

touches prompt list

10 - hiding their face in the other’s neck

a no-fears au where jon and martin are in an established relationship! cw for nausea and a brief mention of vomiting (doesn't actually occur)

.

Jon doesn’t do roller coasters.

It is not, despite what Tim says when he thinks Jon isn’t listening, because he’s a, quote, ‘old man at heart’ and doesn’t know how to have fun. In theory, Jon is actually rather fond of roller coasters. He’d watched a documentary once about the design of them, and it had been rather fascinating.

It’s not because Jon doesn’t like roller coasters. It’s…

Well. It’s probably more accurate to say that roller coasters don’t like him. Specifically, his sense of equilibrium and his digestive system. Pills help somewhat, if he remembers to take them, but the fact of the matter is that he’s much more likely to leave the ride with a feeling of intense nausea than of exhilaration. He just… gets motion sick. No way around it. He always sits in the front seat of cars, ensures that he’s in a forward-facing train seat at all times, rarely travels by boat, and… avoids roller coasters.

The fact that he is currently standing in the queue for a particularly large and particularly frightening-looking roller coaster is not, therefore, due to his overwhelming love for them. It is instead entirely due to his overwhelming love for the man standing next to him, eyes bright and excited as he explains the history of this particular roller coaster. His hand is warm and soft in Jon’s, and their clasped hands swing absently back and forth as they slowly inch forward in the queue. His curls are a shock of auburn against the sky, and when he laughs and squeezes Jon’s hand, Jon forgets his anxiety entirely for a moment, lost in a wave of affection and fondness.

“—and because it’s the twenty-fifth anniversary of the ride,” Martin says with a wide grin, “it’ll be running backward today! Well, all season, I- I suppose, but we’re here today, so…”

Jon has never been on a roller coaster that’s traveled backward. It does… not sound appealing.

“That’s… very exciting,” Jon says with a smile, trying to make the words sound as genuine as possible. Because he is a coward. Or, perhaps, just very in love. Maybe both.

It’s just… Martin had been so excited when he’d dropped the amusement park tickets in front of Jon a few weeks ago. And in the four months or so that they’ve been dating, Jon has found it increasingly hard to say things that will cause that wide, unabashed smile on Martin’s face to dim even in the slightest. So Jon had discretely taken several motion sickness pills before they’d left that morning and had told himself that there were plenty of other things to do at an amusement park besides roller coasters and spinning rides and other things that make it their personal mission to tie Jon’s stomach into knots.

And then Martin had spent the entire train ride rambling about the various roller coasters and how he’d always wanted to go to an amusement park but he’d never been able to find the time or the money before and how he’s never been on a roller coaster but they look so fun, and Jon just… hadn’t been able to tell him.

It’ll be fine, he tells himself as they finally reach the front of the queue, the brightly colored cars sitting empty in front of them. It’ll be… completely, totally fine. Nothing to worry about.

They sit a few rows from the front. The click of the restraints makes Jon’s stomach squeeze with nerves, and he swallows around the lump in his throat. He doesn’t realize that he’s gripping the bar in front of him with white knuckles until Martin says gently, “Hey. Is… everything okay?”

No, but it’s certainly too late to change my mind now, Jon does not say.

“Yes,” Jon says, loosening his grip with considerable effort. It’s fine. “Just… b-been a while since I was on one of these.”

Technically not a lie.

“Oh!” Martin gives him a soft smile that makes his heart stutter in his chest. “Well, it’ll be a… new experience for both of us then, I suppose.”

The car jerks into motion, and Jon’s hands tighten instinctively on the bar again. It’s a… disconcerting effect, to be moving backward rather than forward, and one that Jon is decidedly not fond of. They exit the staging area and begin to climb up the first of the many, many hills Jon had eyed warily from their place in the queue. Jon looks straight ahead and does not look down and tries to breathe through his nose.

A warm hand covers his, and Jon looks over to see Martin watching him, that same soft smile on his lips. Martin squeezes gently, and Jon relaxes, just a fraction.

Then, the car tips over the peak of the hill and begins to accelerate, and Jon’s world blurs into a mess of colors and sensations.

The only part of the ride that Jon enjoys is the fact that it’s over quickly. By the time the car rolls to a halt—after a terrifying sequence of loops and drops and harsh curves and tight spirals—Jon feels as if his insides have been scooped out, stuffed in a washing machine, tumble dried, and then pushed back into him at all the wrong angles. Martin’s hand is still gripping his, somehow, and it remains there as they exit the car and make their way down the ramp and into the main thoroughfare. Jon’s legs feel boneless, like they’re made of jelly, and he is deeply afraid that if he opens his mouth, he is going to empty the contents of his stomach onto the pavement below.

Gentle hands are on Jon’s shoulders then, and Jon finds himself guided onto a metal bench just a few meters away from the exit ramp. Jon tries to protest that he’s fine—they have limited time here and he doesn’t need to take a break—but his stomach rolls and he pinches his lips shut before he manages to form a single word. When a hand settles on his upper back and presses down gently, he finally gives in to the urge to bend over and tuck his head between his knees in an effort to alleviate some of the lingering vertigo.

“Breathe, Jon,” Martin says, and Jon does. He takes a few deep breaths, and when a particularly powerful wave of nausea overtakes him, he can’t help the groan that escapes him. “I know,” Martin says softly, moving his hand in soothing circles on Jon’s back. “Just keep breathing, Jon. We can get some water in a bit, just… for now, let’s sit.”

Jon is too nauseous to be properly embarrassed by the coddling. That situation changes quickly as the minutes pass and Jon’s stomach begins to settle. After what must be nearly ten minutes, the nausea has faded entirely, but Jon keeps his head between his knees so he doesn’t have to look at Martin’s face.

“Feeling any better?” Martin prompts, and Jon lets out a slow breath. He nods once, and—with the help of Martin’s hand on his arm—straightens slowly, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the ground as he does so.

“Sorry,” he says, so quietly he isn’t sure Martin can hear him over the din of the crowd.

“You don’t have to apologize for- for feeling sick,” Martin says. He rubs a thumb against Jon’s arm and says, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I- I didn’t think… it would be this bad?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jon sees Martin give him a look that very clearly expresses his skepticism.

Jon sighs and puts his head in his hands again. “I just… didn’t want to disappoint you, I suppose.”

Martin is, of course, sharper than Jon gives him credit for sometimes. “Because I said I’d never had the chance to go on a roller coaster before?”

Jon nods miserably. “I-in my defense, I thought you would start with something significantly less… gravity-defying.”

“Jon,” Martin says, kindly and patiently yet with a chastising edge to it. “You could have waited by the exit.”

“I—I didn’t…” Jon feels the tips of his ears grow warm. “I didn’t want to leave you.”

“Oh,” Martin says, his voice pitched a touch higher than normal. “That’s… um, r-really sweet, actually.”

Jon is glad that Martin can’t see his face because he’s sure whatever expression would have crossed it just then would have been utterly sappy and mortifying.

“B-but I—I don’t want you to make yourself sick on my account,” Martin hastens to say. “There are loads of other things to do here. W-we don’t have to ride the roller coasters.”

Jon uncovers his face and looks at Martin. “But you want to ride the roller coasters.”

Martin worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He doesn’t deny it. Instead, he says, “I… also want to spend time with you, Jon. D-doing things we both want to do, not… not just me.”

Jon stares at Martin and thinks, not for the first time, that he loves him. But it’s still too early to say it, probably, and he’s certainly not going to do so sitting on a sticky metal bench surrounded by children and tired-eyed parents. So all he says, in the end, is, “If… if you’re sure.”

Martin takes Jon’s hand in his and squeezes gently. “I am.” Then, he gives Jon a wide, soft smile that has Jon’s stomach twisting all over again. “So. What do you do at amusement parks, then?”

Jon flushes. But Martin doesn’t laugh at him when he mumbles that he’s actually quite fond of carousels. Instead, he takes Jon’s hand and walks with him across the park—staying away from the more crowded sections, stopping to buy some horrendously overpriced bottles of water on their way—until they’re standing in front of the carousel, painted in lovely pastel blues and yellows.

Jon, for a moment, feels self-conscious and more than a bit childish. But then Martin squeezes his hand and says, without a hint of teasing, “So, what animal do you prefer?” and the tension in Jon’s shoulders melts away in an instant.

Jon learns that Martin likes the classic horses, manes painted gold and plastic saddles a bright cherry red. (And Martin is entirely unsurprised to find that Jon chooses the cat, every time.) He learns, as they continue to explore the amusement park, that Martin likes caramel apples but hates how they get stuck in his teeth. (He purchases one anyway, rolled in peanuts and little rainbow sprinkles, that gives Jon a toothache just looking at it.) He learns that Martin does not appreciate his explanation that the monsters on the haunted house ride are ‘just dummies’ and ‘obviously fake’ and ‘really, Martin, that’s not even the correct number of bones in a human skeleton.’ (Though he secretly treasures the way that Martin clings to his side in the car and hides his face in Jon’s neck, his curls tickling the sensitive skin just underneath Jon’s chin.)

And Martin, apparently, learns that Jon is strangely good at midway games.

“You know those things are totally rigged, right?” Martin says, staring at Jon in disbelief as he tries and fails to adjust his grip on the frankly enormous plush teddy bear the midway worker had begrudgingly surrendered to him. And the medium-sized plush cat he’d won earlier. And the dozen or so little plushies and trinkets and accessories he’d acquired along the way. “You’re not supposed to be able to win.”

“Yes, well.” Jon gives up on trying to find a comfortable way to carry his prizes and extends the massive teddy toward Martin. “I suppose I’m just… lucky.”

He is certainly not going to admit that he spent a good three days researching what to do on a carnival date, came to the conclusion that it would be romantic to win an enormous stuffed animal for Martin, and committed himself to memorizing which games were easiest to win and what strategies he should employ in order to have the best chance at success. That would be… well. A bit much, he thinks. Best to just… not mention it.

Martin carries the teddy all the way back to his flat, his cheeks flushing a lovely pink whenever an occasional curious glance is thrown in their direction. It’s only once they get there and Martin tries to pass the plushie back to Jon with a sheepish, “Suppose I better give this back now,” that Jon realizes he had… indeed not been very clear about his intentions.

“It’s… for you, actually,” Jon says, ignoring the way his cheeks are growing steadily warmer. Then, Jon takes a breath and pushes the rest of the plushies rather unceremoniously into Martin’s arms, save for the cat which he’s… grown rather attached to in their short acquaintanceship. “Th-they all are. Er. F-for you.”

“O-oh.” Martin looks down at the collection of brightly colored things in his arms, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. “I—I… really?”

Jon hugs the cat tightly to his chest, feeling something like embarrassment curl in his stomach. “I-if you don’t want them, I—I can—”

“No!” Martin says quickly, curling his arms protectively around the plushies. “I—I do. W-want them.” He looks down at the teddy sitting by his feet, then up at Jon with a warm, shy smile on his face. “Th-thanks, Jon.”

I love him, I love him, I love him.

Jon nods, pinches his lips together, and tries to keep his affection contained. He doesn’t want to come on too strong, after all. That’s… something he’s not meant to do, he thinks.

Then, when they’re both lying in bed and Martin’s chest is pressed against Jon’s back, his arm curled around Jon’s middle and his nose buried in Jon’s hair, Martin murmurs, “I love you,” and Jon’s breath catches in his throat.

“I… I love you too,” he whispers. And it’s such an easy thing to say that Jon wonders why he’d ever worried at all.

Martin makes a sleepy, contented noise, burrowing closer and wrapping Jon more tightly in his arms. And because he can—he can, he can, Martin said it first, so he can—Jon says again, so quietly he isn’t sure Martin can hear it: “I love you.”

The words are sweet on his tongue, like candy floss and funnel cakes and caramel apples.

[thelittleboyfromloveactually]

Two Shorten the Road

part 1

joel dawson x reader

warnings: cussing? idk, bad writing.....fluff, cuteness, monsters(is this a warning), mentions of death, SPOILERS

word count: 2154

prompt: when your best friend decides to leave your colony to go find the love of his life, you decide to join him on his journey even if you aren’t so happy about where this journey is going

Welp I did it, I took it into my own hands. I am writing a joel dawson series. Because we👏need 👏more👏joel👏fics👏 it’s basically the movie, almost the same script but obviously slightly different…ENJOY! <3

No one in my generation or later had a typical upbringing, I mean some of us did but then the world ended. This type of thing sounds straight out of some apocalyptic movie, but we basically live in one now. Agatha 616, an asteroid heading straight for earth, I know, so original. So we all came together and did what we do best, blow things up. Yup, we blew up teh asteroid, and humanity was saved! We thought. But here’s the thing about rockets, they are made of a bunch of chemical compounds which eventually rained back down on earth. Suddenly there were these Aileen creatures that mutated and started eating us. Ants, lizards, roaches, crocodiles, you name it. Our president was even killed by a giant moth. Ya….not so original now huh? We suddenly need tanks to kill ants, oh man I remember the good old days when a shoe would do just fine. Sometimes even the tanks didn’t work. Eventually the really big ones and our military took each other out and we lost 95% of the human population in a year! Those of us who survived hid, bunkers, caves, panic rooms, all around the world. So for the last seven years I’ve been hiding in an underground bunker. It’s really not as bad as it sounds, and it’s better than getting eaten alive. It’s a great group of people and we all love each other.

“Are you sure they’re asleep?”

“Who?”

“Y/N and joel!”

“Oh ya I’m sure”

“Joel? Y/n?”

“He’s asleep”

Actually we are both awake. Me and my best friend joel have kinda mastered faking being asleep. Our beds are right across from each other so we normally just lie there and make stupid faces at each other. We are the only two single people in our bunker. Nice huh? Joel is my best friend. I met him when I joined the colony. He’s the sweetest. It’s funny cause everyone thinks we should just have sex already because that’s literally all everyone else does. But we are way above that. Anyway, joel is in love with his girlfriend from before the colony, her name is Aimee. With one “I” and two “e”s. He loves to talk about her, he writes her letters. So in reality, I am the only one who is not in love in this bunker. I’ve never had a boyfriend, ever, even before the world ended.

We don’t really get any sleep. The moaning kinda keeps us awake. I got up and out of my bed and headed for the kitchen. I heard Joel’s bed creak and then his footsteps as he followed behind me. Another annoying thing about being down here is that to get to the kitchen from my room, you have to walk though other people’s bedrooms. Oh shit, they are busy, why would they leave their door open. Me and Joel stopped.

“Oh” joel and I said in unison

“Hey Y/N! Hey Joel!” Ava said

“Oh hey Ava” Joel said, we didn’t dare look over to our left.

“Y/N how’s it going?” Tim asked

“T-totally good tim, h-how are you doing” I asked

“Yeah, good” he responded

“I uh we couldn’t sleep” said Joel looking at the ceiling

“Ya we know the feeling” Ava said with a laugh

“Yeah probably not for the…..same reasons” joel said looking straight ahead

“Your guyses door was open, did you…did you know that?” I asked

“Yeah we know” they said

I shook my head and knitted my eyebrows together

“Okay” joel trailed off

Ever since Tim’s parents were eaten by a swarm of termites he and Ava have gotten really close, in every way.

“Okay, goodnight” joel said as we walked

Basically everyone is coupled up down here, a baby was born last winter! Welcome to the apocalypse kid. Ok if we ever get out of this, that would be an awesome story to tell your kids. “Oh ya I was born in an underground bunker doing a monster apocalypse” “yes exactly like World War Z but with bugs bigger than a 5 story building”. I mean come on.

So your probably wonder how the hell we get food, we’ll we have a cow. Gurdy. Gurdy is great. We also have a hunting party that brings back whatever they can from the surface. It’s gotten harder and harder, cause we ran out of bullets. And facing one of those things with a handmade weapon is just as hard as it sounds. It’s very very difficult. I go with them….sometimes. I still get scared. But I’ve been out quite a lot, especially compared to my man joel over here. I’ve been out maybe 30 times, he’s been out…maybe once, or not even. He’s the chef of the bunker. He makes super good Minestrone.

Me and joel like to hang out with Mavis. A robot. Yup. Not much for conversation, her batter is shot. Just like every other mavis I would imagine. When I’m not hunting we hang out with her. But sometimes I just go read. Reading and joel keep me sane. I mean sometimes joel drives me insane but I still love him. I have quite the collection of books too! I’ve got Emma by Jane Austen, a couple random ones that we found, all the hunger games and Harry Potter books, some mysteries that stopped being mysteries after a while, and then of course some smutty romance books for personal entertainment.

Joel likes to say that his thing is target practice. He has never hit the target but ya know, gotta entertain yourself. I think his thing is drawing though, he has this book that he draws in from Aimee. It’s really cool actually. He’s really good.

I sat watching Joel as he tried to hit the target, laughing a little every time he missed. It was cute how hard he tried.

“Shut up” he said shaking his laugh away

I laughed again, but then suddenly the lights started flickering. You could hear screeches and creeks echoing through the bunker. Joel turned to look at me. Worry and determination in his eyes. We both scrambled out of the room and into the kitchen where everyone was preparing.

“Hustle, hustle people we’ve gotta move”

I turned to look at Joel but then realized that he wasn’t next to me. Where did he go? Worry flooded through me. Suddenly the clanking of our weapon started behind me.

“Hey guys!” Joel said as he rammed into the railing, I shook my head. “Guys! I’ve got the weapons” he smiled at me

A few people walked over to him taking them out of his hands

“Stay” said Tim

“W-what?” Joel asked looking around in confusion

Everyone was talking and barking orders “grab what you need and let’s go! Y/N you coming?”

My eyes shot open “yes! Yup!” I jumped up and grabbed the bow and arrow from Joel.

“W-what's happening?” He asked innocently “what’s going on?”

“There’s a breach” said Tim

“What do you mean? Like inside the bunker breach?!” He asked

“Yes joel! Now come on!” I told him, patting him on the pack as I followed the others

He followed me and watched the plan get arranged

“Anna, Y/N and I will engage. Anderson and Tom plank him”

“Plank him, ya ok where do you guys need me? You want me to uh come through the rear or..?” Joel asked eagerly

“I don’t think your going to pass this joel” I told him

“Pass what? You guys need help, let me help” said clutching his crossbow

“You gonna make me say it?” said Sam

“Say what?!” God he was so adorably clueless

“You can’t handle it joel, your shook” said Sam, we all began getting into positions

“Ya ok, yes so you guys don’t get scared..ever?” He asked still getting ready to fight

“We get scared, we all get scared joel, but you get really scared” said Sam

“They are trying to make you feel bad joel” I said sweetly, trying to calm him down

“We love you joel”

“But your a liability”

“Ok why did that speech feel so rehearsed? And what about Y/N? She’s like…ya know?” He said bobbing his head

“Joel-“ suddenly the bunker shook and the lights flicked again

“Ok 30 meters out! Let’s move!” And we were off

Leaving joel and some others behind. You could hear the growling of whatever we were up against

I followed the others and listened carefully. I was freaking shaking. Don’t ask how I got sucked into becoming one the the hunters. Kinda just happened and I was just-

“OH SHIT!” I heard someone yell, it was too dark to see. Someone was gone, that thing took them. I couldn’t even see it. Oh fuck my life. Everyone began scattering, running away from the monster. I stopped running to take a breath, when I realized I was alone. Nicely done Y/N. The lights kept flickering. I heard something blow up in the distance.

“Conned? Conner?” I heard a whisper, one I knew all too well. Shit, joel. I ran toward the sound, and had no idea I was also running toward certain death. I stopped running. There it was, that thing. I’d never seen this before. I didn’t recognize it. I stayed silent, not moving at all. It slowly crawled over a shower curtain. Oh fuck. He was going toward joel! I quickly grabbed my bow and arrow and shot it. Right though the face. Next to its….eye I guess you could call it. Joel stood there, frozen.

I slowly walked over to him “Joel, hey are you ok?” I asked as I slipped my hand into his. He was trembling. Tears ran down his cheeks. He has a bad freezing problem, so I've been helping him work on it.

About an hour later I sat with Joel, still holding his hand as he stared out into space. We could hear everyone talking. How could this have happened?

“It ripped through steal”

“Anderson and I resealed the Breach point, nothings getting in that way again”

“But why did it happen?”

I tried to toon it out, and I hoped Joel did too.

“Joel, do you wanna talk about it?” I asked squeezing his hand, he looked so sad, which just crushed me

He shook his head

“Ok….” I nodded, I leaned into hug him but was interrupted by his voice

“How far away is Aimee's colony?” He asked

I pulled back, looking at him confused. The talking stopped and everyone look at him

“What?” Tim asked

“Aimee’s colony, how far away is it?” He repeated

“About 85 miles” he said as he furrowed his brows

“How long will it take to get there?”

“What do you mean joel?” I asked leaning closer to him

“Just humor me, how long?” He insisted

“7 days” said Tim

“Someone who’s armed and trained would hardly last 50miles, but you…joel” Ava said, I felt bad for him, he really didn’t deserve any of this

“Alright” Tim continued “now I need volunteers”

“I’m gonna go” joel said

No one said anything, they just stared

“It’s an impossible journey joel” said Tim, crossing his arms

Joel stood up, moving around my chair. “No im serious…I love you guys but there’s only one person in this world who ever truly made me happy and she’s only 85 miles away” he said strongly “I’m gonna go see her” I could see his mind was made up

God he was such a romantic, how could you not love this guy? Sure it hurts when your best friend tells you that you didn’t make him truly happy. Especially when you maybe sorta kinda have a crush on him.

He let out a breath “woah, that felt awesome” he said as he walked off to start packing

I stood there for a second processing and thinking, but then suddenly my mouth took over and well….

“I’m coming with you!” I said, he froze “I mean you can’t leave me here with these middle aged people, and your my best friend so” I shrugged

“I’ll come back for you I promise” he walked over to me “I can’t let you put yourself in even more danger” he said grabbing my arms

“I can’t let you put yourself in danger knowing that I could have helped protect you” I said, he stared blankly at me

I smiled “o-ohK…then I guess…” he trailed off

“Cool I’ll go pack” I skipped past him. Was I scared? Hell yes. But like I said, I needed to help joel and protect him in every way I can. And sure I wasn’t so happy that he was returning to his long lost love but if it made him happy then I would live. And anyway, two do shorten the road.

[whaleofatjme1920]

Can I ask for an scenario were the proxies have to interact with Charlie? Like, maybe for example the boss sends the 4 of them to Kate’s old house for some reason, or Charlie just wonders into them because he’s scared

Grilled Cheese Sandwiches

[Proxies and Charlie]

[Warnings: like, none?]

[This is like full fic length bc I kinda liked the idea]

“Kate?” Tim’s soft voice called out from the driver's seat. He sees that she’s gazing out the window, lost in her thoughts. A small sigh escapes his lips as he leans back, hand gently patting at Kate’s shoulder. “Kate, we need to go.”

The dark haired woman stirs, blinking rapidly in response. She pauses. “I’m sorry?”

The men in the car laugh, Toby devolving into giggles as he clicks her seatbelt. “We’re h-h-here,” he smiles.

Kate shifts, slightly uncomfortable in her seat as she reaches to unlock the door. There, down the driveway is the house that used to be hers. She slides out, listening as her teammates do the same. Her shoes rest on the gravel and gently press against the earth. She hasn’t been able to see her house in the daylight for goodness knows how long. In fact, most of the time she’s here, it’s nighttime.

“You okay?” Brian asks as he rests his hand on her shoulder before moving to her upper back. He’s gently guiding her to the house.

She shrugs ever so slightly, a cloud overtaking her eyes. “Not sure.”

Brian hums and gently rubs her back as they walk up to the house. “We’ll be in and out, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Tim suddenly cuts in.

“W-Why exactly a-a-a-are we h-here?” Toby asks as he catches up to his three group members, stretching his arms and cracking his neck as he does so.

“Operator said we needed some files or something,” Tim answers. “Shouldn’t be that hard, yeah?”

Kate feels a little on edge and nostalgic when she sees the brick walls that surround her home. She takes a glance around. The yard needs to be done as there’s tall grass and weeds that have overtaken the once pretty garden. Ivy and vines grow over the windows, the brick needs some upkeep - it’s a mess. But surprisingly enough, the swingset is still intact. She walks down the path to her front door and reaches out for the doorknob, opening it and raises her brows to see that it’s open. “Huh,” she murmurs. “Wonder if there have been any squatters in here.”

“Sure hope not,” Brian says as his gloved hands trail the tall grass’ edges. “Means we gotta go out there and hunt them down.”

Tim and Toby both sigh in agreement, grimaces crossing over their faces. This house is practically a time capsule into Operator behavior and the like. It reeks with his energy. This place is only open to proxies, and even then, they have to be cleared proxies. If any humans made it in here, that means they have to get killed. That’s just how it is.

Kate steps into her old house, slightly displeased to see that the house looks eerily similar to how she left it with the minor additions of Lauren’s snooping as well. It doesn’t feel or smell like someone has been in here for a while. She begins to explore the place, her hand on her weapon just in case as her teammates file in.

‘So,’ Tim begins in the back of his proxies’ heads, ‘just a few files. Apparently we’ll know ‘em when we see ‘em.’

Toby snorts slightly. ‘You don’t have anything more solid than that?’

‘No.’

‘They’re bound to have Lauren on them,’ Kate says. ‘It’s uh, just the feeling I get.’

Hums echo throughout the house from her teammates as they split and scope out the house. Kate stands in the kitchen, looking for the files. Nothing so far. She sighs. She was hoping they’d be in and out.

“Any luck?” Brian calls out after deeming the house safe.

“Nope,” Tim calls out from the TV room.

“N-Not here either,” Toby says from one of the upstairs bedrooms.

Kate hums as she opens up the drawers. “Empty,” she says.

Tim sighs and runs his fingers through his hair as he rounds the house, mindlessly looking for the things the Operator asked of them. He’s a little upset that they’re just not out there in the open, but that would be convenient, far too convenient. He begins to look out the window, watching for the birds and other things, anything to just calm down. He pats absentmindedly at his pocket, feeling his pack of cigarettes. “Goin’ out for a smoke,” he says over his shoulder to Kate who is still searching the kitchen.

Tim steps outside and lights up a cigarette, placing it between his lips before sucking in a slow breath. He watches the clouds as they swim in the sky, the sun as it passes overhead. What a beautiful summer afternoon. He’s honestly zoning out when he hears a rustling in the grass. What is that? His head turns and so too do the hairs on the back of his neck. Something is on the grounds and it doesn’t feel human. Tim immediately drops his cigarettes and crushes it under his boot before palming his gun.

Dark eyes begin to scan over the tall grasses as he remains planted at the doorstep. He’s about to call for his teammates in what they lovingly call ‘head talk’ before he sees something peeking out of the tall grass, just outside the brick gates. It has dark hair and sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the lush green. Before Tim can even make any plan of action, it’s up and stalking towards him. He swears under his breath, raising his gun towards the creature.

It hisses, making clicking noises and snarling as it keeps a distance, large hands get held up defensively as Tim growls back.

Kate, in the kitchen, hears this and internally panics. At first, she thought it was some rabid raccoon or something, but she recognizes those clicks. That’s Charlie! She slams her drawer and then rushes out to the front where Tim, Brian and Toby are locked in a standoff with the poor thing.

“Woah, woah!” She cries out, extending her hands as she does so.

“Kate, get back,” Tim hisses, hand reaching out to grab at her collar. He grows in disapproval when she pushes off of him, quickly coming to the zombified proxy’s side.

Upon seeing Kate, the creature pauses. It purrs lowly and lowers his head.

Kate stands in front of him, arms out. “He’s not gonna hurt you.” She gently pushes Charlie back, wanting to get him as far away from her teammates as she can.

“It c-c--could be an o-outlier,” Toby says with narrowed eyes, hand not loosening its grip on his hatchets.

Kate takes in a deep, frustrated breath and shakes her head. “His name is Charlie.” She explains. “He’s what we are.”

“What we are?” Brian asks with a tilt of his head, brow raising, but gun still pointed. “He can’t be.”

Toby nods in agreement. “P-Proxies don’t l-look like t-t-that,” he murmurs with uncertainty.

Tim sighs deeply as he lowers his gun, holstering it. “This is what happens to proxies if the Operator wills it,” he explains, a small grimace on his lips. “It’s the radiation.”

Uncomfortable chills run up and down the spines of Tim’s teammates as they slowly put their weapons away, frowns on their faces.

Charlie tilts his head, though his body language conveys that he’s clearly still distressed over what’s happened. His hands are waving, ready to strike should he need to, teeth bared and ready to snap.

Kate runs her fingers through her hair and waves off her other teammates. “Go back inside, let me handle this,” she commands. “He’s harmless, but you’ve made a bad impression on him.”

“He shouldn’t have been poking in the grass,” Tim says as he crosses his arms over his chest.

Kate sticks out her tongue at him. “Get inside, and bring me two sandwiches.”

“Excuse you?” Tim says in slight surprise.

She looks over her shoulder as she gently grabs Charlie’s large hand, leading him to the swingset that is surprisingly still intact. “Go take a seat buddy,” she guides in a warm tone, watching as Charlie slowly slumps back over to his most natural pose, quietly walking towards the swingset. “You heard me,” Kate calls back over her shoulder.

Tim rolls his eyes and heads back inside, mentally telling Toby to make two sandwiches.

Toby, who is watching as Charlie sits on the swingset, rolls his eyes at Tim’s command before sauntering off to the kitchen. He’s admittedly surprised to pull open the fridge and see it’s stocked with food and there’s fresh bread. ‘What kind of sandwiches did you guys want?’ Toby hums as he rummages through the fridge.

Kate pauses swinging. ‘PB&J would be fine,’ she replies. ‘Really anything goes though, Charlie just looks hungry.’

Toby obliges and frowns for a moment. ‘Do you think you and Charlie can wait a second?’

‘Why?’

‘I have something special in mind.’

Kate hums and then nods. ‘Yeah, take your time, Tobes.’ With Charlie at her side, Kate begins to talk with him, buying Toby some seconds. “So, you feeling alright, buddy?”

Charlie chirps quietly, swinging beside her.

“Did the big guy send you here?”

Charlie nods.

“Is he being mean again?”

Charlie’s eyes lower as he shivers slightly, another solemn nod dragging his head downwards as he focuses on the pretty flowers that grow up from the ground.

Kate furrows her brows with a small frown and stands up from the seat, peeling off her hoodie. She drapes it over Charlie’s shoulders before sitting on the gravel just in front of him, pulling at the pretty pink and blue flowers. “I’m here now, yeah?”

Charlie purrs as he holds the arms of her hoodie, a small smile curling upwards on his face.

Kate hums softly as she weaves him a flower crown.

Inside the house, Toby is almost done with the grilled cheese sandwiches. He’s melting the cheese on the second one when Brian and Tim stroll in, a tad bored from watching Kate and Charlie.

“That’s surprisingly nice of you,” Brian lightly ribs. “Smells good though.”

“Why don’t you ever make these with us?” Tim inquires with a small chuckle.

“I c-c-can make them n-now for u-u-s,” Toby begins, flipping the sandwich. “B-But my s-sister used t-t-to make these w-when I was u-upset. F-Figured C-Charlie needed a p-pick me up,” he explains, a small smile on his lips as he turns off the stove. Toby places it on the plate and grabs it before heading to the front door.

In the front yard, Kate is just finishing placing a flower crown on Charlie’s head. The colors compliment his hair and Kate giggles softly as he coos. “You’re so pretty,” she compliments, gently tapping where his nose should be, making him giggle in response. Her nose picks up the scent of Toby’s cooking and a warm smile spreads over her lips. There he is, in the doorway.

“T-Thought you g-guys would l-like these,” he says as he meets Kate halfway.

“You’re so thoughtful,” Kate smiles as she takes the plate into her hands. “You wanna come say hi to Charlie?”

“I-Is he o-okay with it?” Toby asks, wanting to ensure Charlie won’t get wound up again.

Kate glances over her shoulder to the large cryptid like proxy that is currently playing with the flowers that adorn his head. “He’s fine,” she hums, leading Toby to the swingset. “Hey buddy,” she quietly greets. “Toby made some sandwiches for us.”

Charlie tilts his head curiously at the new scent, both Toby and the grilled cheese. He pokes at it before lifting it.

“It’s s-s-still a little h--hot,” Toby warns as Kate sits him down on one of the swings.

Charlie tilts his head again.

Toby blows a bit on his hand.

Charlie follows in suit before chomping into the sandwich, mouth opening and closing like a dragon due to how hot it is.

Both Kate and Toby laugh.

Brian and Tim watch from the windows as Toby, Kate and Charlie begin to get to know each other, giggles and positive energy flowing between the three of them as they do so.

“Should we let them stay?” Tim hums.

Brian nods, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah, let the kids play.”

Tim chuckles, patting Brian on the back. “You check the basement for those files yet?”

“Nah, did you?”

“Wouldn’t be asking if I did,” Tim grins.

Brian rolls his eyes. “Be right back,” he informs, hazel eyes reluctantly leaving the vision of the swing set.

[voiceless-terror]

Oooo 16 mixed with 39 w Jon for the fluff/angst prompts?

Hello there, anon! Can you believe, that in all of my whump fics, I’ve yet to tackle the bread knife incident? High time we corrected that. The two prompts this is referencing are- “Do you need to go to the hospital?” and “If you don’t rest you won’t get any better.” Had this written for a bit, but I spruced it up and decided to post as I’m working on reconstructing chapters. Hope you like!

“Jesus Christ.”

“I-It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Admittedly, it doesn’t look great.

There’s a trail of blood following Jon to the sink, a bloody handprint or two on the counter (and probably a few door handles), and his shirt is similarly stained, the rumpled white button-up painted with red. The slice (more than a slice, probably a stab) to his arm bled more than he anticipated and is probably still bleeding under the towel he’s currently using to stifle the flow. Jon’s swaying where he stands; the loss of blood has him feeling weak, and the dizziness and dull throb in his head leftover from Michael hasn’t abated. All in all, he must look a mess.

Judging by Martin and Tim’s expressions, this is probably a fair assessment. Martin immediately goes to his side, though Jon flinches away as he tries to reach for his arm. He tamps down the guilt he feels at Martin’s look of rejection. “It’s n-nothing, really-”

“Nothing?” Tim scoffs, slowly making his way over as he dodges Jon’s mess. “We leave you alone for twenty minutes and suddenly you’re finger painting with blood. The hell happened?”

“Did you reopen one of your wounds?” Martin’s hands are hovering above his arm, like he’s trying to approach a skittish animal. “I told you not to pick at them-”

“Uh, n-no.” Jon leans against the counter- his vision’s starting to go, he should’ve sat down instead of puttering about like a fool. “It’s-it’s a new one.” Sufficiently cowed by Martin and Tim’s worried stares, he gently removes the towel with a hiss and yes, it’s still bleeding profusely. Damn. 

Tim hurriedly pressed the towel back down, leading him over to a chair as Martin lets out one of his disbelieving squeaks. Tim’s always been good in a crisis and Jon wants to lean into the touch but something in the back of his mind rebels against it, whispering paranoid nothings in his ear. Wrong wrong wrong. There’s something wrong, something bad. Find out. So instead he flinches out of his hold as soon as he’s sat down, ignoring the exasperated look this gets him and putting pressure on the wound himself. 

“What did you do?” he asks but Jon doesn’t meet his eyes, instead looking down at his lap. “How’d you get that?”

“A-A sandwich.” He can feel Tim’s stare, practically hears Martin’s fretting. “I-I was-”

“A sandwich,” Tim repeats, his voice deadpan. “A ham and cheese stabbed you.”

“No!” Words aren’t making sense, they’re hard to put together. He wants to lay down, he wants to sleep, he wants to be far away from these people and what they’ve done and what they might still do to him. “I cut myself...making a sandwich. W-With a knife. A bread knife.”

“A bread knife.” Martin’s talking now, his voice high-pitched and concerned. “A bread knife did that.”

“Where is it, then?” He wishes Tim would let up, would just take the story and leave him be, let him bleed.

“I-I put it back. I cleaned it and I put it back.”

“Let me get this straight-”

“For God’s sake, Tim- that doesn’t matter right now!” Now Martin’s at his side, hauling him up out of his seat with a steady hand that takes the brunt of his weight as he lists to the side. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“I-”

“Why am I even asking? Of course you do.” Martin’s muttering, already dragging him halfway out the door. “I’ll get us a cab. You two will just bicker the whole way. Take care of all this will you, Tim?” He gestures with one free hand to the mess Jon’s made and Tim just sighs wearily, nodding his head. He throws Jon one last glare but it’s weak and more worried than anything. He feels the guilt bubble up again. He should apologize for the inconvenience, tell them what happened, who visited. But then the voice creeps up, starting its chorus in the back of his mind.

He stays silent. He doesn’t speak as Martin takes more and more of his weight and the world tilts around him. He’s in a cab. Martin’s hand is warm and should be comforting but it isn’t. His arm stings and Helen’s gone and Michael’s laughter echoes and he can feel the worms burrowing back in, and over this cacophony of pain is the miserable choir singing wrong, wrong, something’s wrong someone’s there someone’s watching, waiting until they’ve got you alone-

He struggles in Martin’s hold but its weak and must seem more like a squirm of discomfort, for Martin doesn’t let go, just keeps up his murmured reassurances and his touches that sting like a thousand tiny needles.

He doesn’t know how long they’re at the A & E for. He barely registers Martin dragging him inside or talking to the nurses. He watches dispassionately as the wound’s stitched up, his other scabs disinfected from constant picking. Nobody lectures him or says much of anything- one mention of the Magnus Institute shut them right up. Jon is as much thankful as he is discouraged. He really is alone. He feels it even as he’s shoved back into Martin’s arms with a disingenuous smile and a ‘get well soon!’ 

Martin’s eyeing him critically as they wait for the cab; Jon’s too tired to fight at the probing hands that inspect the bandages. “Still your story, then?”

“Hm?” The world is hazy, but Michael’s laughter is starting to fade.

“Bread knife.”

“Oh...yes, yes it is.” He tries for some defiance but his voice is small and weary. Martin sighs in turn.

“You know you can tell me about these things, right? Me o-or Tim, maybe Sasha-”

Jon snorts. “Tell you when I’m making lunch?”

Martin’s face remains serious.  “If that’s what you want to call it, sure.”

Jon doesn’t want to have this conversation so he nods in a clear dismissal, sighing in relief as a cab pulls up outside. Martin reaches for the car door, helping him in before hurrying to the other side. Jon’s about to tell the driver to take them back to work when Martin interrupts in a no-nonsense tone, rattling off an address with a please and thank you.

It’s Jon’s address.

How does he know my address? Has he been following me? He is the one who found Gertrude’s body, after all. What if- what if-

“I can see your mind going a mile a minute, Jon. What’s wrong?” He startles, moving as far away from Martin as possible and hitting the car door with a wince. Martin continues, his eyes betraying nothing but concern as Jon’s mind spirals. “You’re not going back to work. You just got stitches-”

“How do you know my address?” The words are meant to be an accusation, but they just sound like the bark of a small dog. Martin seems to agree with this assessment because he rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair. It takes him a moment to gather himself, and every second makes Jon’s heart beat faster until it’s rabbiting in his chest. What does he know, what did he do?

“You don’t remember, do you?” Martin sounds sad, disappointed. It hurts more than Jon would like to admit.

“R-Remember what?”

“You don’t remember the three times I had to do this, back when you were supposed to be on sick leave?” Jon blinks.

He doesn’t remember much of that time. He remembers the pain, the paranoia, the fear- all of it tuned up to a fever-pitch. Trying to go back to work and being promptly shooed out by Martin, who took one look at his limp and still-bleeding wounds and shoved him back in a cab. Was he covering his tracks? Is that why he didn’t want me around? He has the faintest memory of arms scooping him unceremoniously from the trap door to the tunnels at night, this time accompanying him in the cab and making sure he got home, since Jon had exited the cab early and snuck back several times before. It’s embarrassing and disconcerting, these gaps in his memory. Gaps that Martin has to fill. Martin, who he can’t trust. Martin, who’s talking right now. 

“- really, Jon- if you don’t rest, you won’t get any better. Tim tells me you’ve been skipping physical therapy, skulking about-”

“I don’t skulk-”

“Well, it’s sure as hell not sneaking if you leave a trail of blood wherever you go!” Martin’s voice raises in frustration, though it immediately quiets as Jon flinches, again. He heaves a massive sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose as if fighting off a headache. “We’re worried, Jon. We’re all worried. About you, about Gertrude, this whole mess- but you’ve got to talk to us. You’ve got to let the police do their job. And for the love of god, let us help you. Because-” he swallows, his next words earnest and spent. “-because we’re scared too. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Martin’s worried. Martin’s scared. Martin found Gertrude’s body. Martin’s always outside his office. Tim’s tired, Tim’s getting angry. Sasha smiles when she shouldn’t smile. Elias is up in his office, telling him everything’s fine and to rest but something’s watching, something’s wrong, Gertrude’s dead and someone killed her and someone’s coming for you next-

The next thing he knows he’s standing outside the door to his flat, Martin at his side. The door looks like a normal door, but Helen went through a door and didn’t come out. She didn’t come out, and Michael laughed, and there’s a war coming and he’s so stupid, so ignorant-

“Are you going to be okay?”

Jon takes the key from his coat pocket with shaking hands, shoving it in the lock. He doesn’t want to go in but he can’t stay out here, not with Martin who found Gertrude, who knows where he lives. “Y-Yes. You can go. Thank you.”

He’s inside before Martin can protest any further, slamming the door shut and leaning against it wearily. It looks like his flat, he hopes it’s his flat. Martin’s talking on the other side, asking him to call if he needs anything. Jon’s not going to do that, of course. He waits for the inevitable sigh, listens until Martin’s footsteps fade away. He’s safe, for now.

He locks the deadbolt.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28073586

[anothertimdrakestan]

Forever And Always  -  Tim Drake x Reader

Words: 1.9k

Requested? Yes! From a lovely anon!

“Greetings! May I please request 3. and 12? Go crazy with it.” (3. so is saving me like a weekly thing? 12. alcohol does not solve all your proble-)

LINK TO PROMPTS  -> REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!

You said go crazy with it and I took that as “make my heart melt with fluff” and I really went there. I shaped this w/ different memories as shown by news titles cuz it can span over a longer time thus giving us more fluff! I hope you enjoyyy also I think this is going up for Timmy day and that makes me beyond happy : ) Thank you for the wonderful req!

GOTHAM PRESS: Y/N L/N MEETS TIM DRAKE-WAYNE! FOR BUSINESS OR PLEASURE?

“Glad you could make it! And good to see you officially!” you and Tim had been chatting online for weeks, in what started a place to arrange a meeting the two of you had bonded and as the news speculated, business turned into a kinship, and you wanted to spend more time in his presence. Timothy Drake was fascinating, he was young and ambitious but grounded and even slightly insecure, where most CEO’s were jaded and over confident he was humble, it was enticing. “Absolutely, the pleasure is all mine!” Tim led you to a large meeting room, your people sat down with his and began negotiating but you were more focused on Tim. Stolen glances turned into winks and even divulged into texting each other from across the room. When the meeting ended you had to leave, but not before Tim could invite you to the next Wayne Gala, an invitation you had to accept.

GC NEWS: TIM DRAKE FLIES IN Y/N L/N FOR ANNUAL WAYNE GALA! 

Your first gala was pretty boring. Everyone wanted to talk to you and you couldn’t find time to talk to Tim, the only interaction you had was exchanging apologetic glances. As the gala was close to ending you decided to gather your confidence, walking up to Tim who was mid conversation with board members who looked as old as dirt. “Hi! Sorry to interrupt but can I borrow Mr. Drake?” instinctively you grabbed Tim’s hand, pulling him away. “Thank you for saving me from those zombies” Tim looked excited to talk to you, his eyes cast down to where your hand still held his. Realizing this your quickly let go, blushing profusely. “Yeah, uh, I just wanted to get to see you, you did invite me here after all!” you tried to make small talk, but decided you wanted more. “Care to dance Mr. Wayne?” Tim looked a little shocked, but agreed. “Anything for my savior” he joked, whisking you on to the dance floor, the two of you talked quietly through songs until the gala ended. You promised to return to Tim soon.

GOTHAM WEEKLY: TIM DRAKE-WAYNE SPOTTED MATCHING Y/N L/N AT HOLIDAY GALA!

“Hey Y/N you look really good, I like the red!” you grinned at Tim, “you don’t look so bad yourself, how’d ya know to match my dress?” Tim shrugged, lightly blushing “a little rumor I guess” the two of you wore matching shades of red, you knew Tim had asked around, it was just the kind of flirting he knew you loved, his thoughtfulness was one of your favorite qualities about him. “Well since we’re matching already care to dance?” you asked, wanted to show off your gown to everyone at the gala. “For you I suppose I can spare a dance” you rolled your eyes, Tim sure had the ‘will they won’t they’ thing down to the point where you didn’t even know what you were, but whatever you were was fun and exciting. Swaying together you rested your head on his chest and you heard him whisper “happy holidays y/n” making your heart flutter, why couldn’t galas last forever?

METROPOLIS NEWS: HUGE ANNOUNCEMENT Y/N L/N MOVING TO GOTHAM FOR A YEAR TO WORK WITH WAYNE ENT???

“Is it really true?” as soon as you signed with W.E. you got a call from Tim. “Yup! I got a penthouse close to the main building. Hope you’re okay with seeing more of me” you joked. This was a move for your mental health, Metropolis was too picture perfect and boring, it was time to expand. And there was a certain someone drawing you to Gotham, so you listened to your gut and made the move. Just a year, then you could reevaluate. 

GOTHAM CELEB WATCH: LOOK AT THESE PHOTOS OF Y/N AND TIM DRAKE-WAYNE LEAVING THE CHARITY GALA TOGETHER!

Another gala another Tim rescue mission. You could see him visibly uncomfortable as a Gotham billionaire’s daughter draped herself all over him. You called it a rescue mission because it was better than admitting you wanted to be the only girl flirting with Tim. Plastering a grin on your face you made your way up to Tim, placing your hand on his cheek “there you are Timmy! I can’t believe you’d leave your girlfriend all alone” you winked at him as the other girl slithered off of him. “I - um - yeah. girlfriend. y/n yeah” Tim stuttered. You grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the back of the party. “C’mon Tim I had to rescue you! What are friends for!” Tim nodded, still blushing. “So is saving me gonna become a weekly thing now?” he joked as you ruffled his hair. “Only if you need me to Timmy. Can we get out of here? This is boring even for a charity event” Tim agreed, as the two of you had almost made it to Tim’s car the paparazzi found you. Tim tried to cover your face as you got into the car, all the shouting and flashing lights were a lot. “Shit that’s gonna be everywhere tomorrow” you groaned. “Let them say what they want who cares. We’ve been in the news before.” Tim reassured you. As Tim directed the driver back to your place you rested your head on his shoulder, nodding off. You could feel Tim lightly shaking you, you could almost swear he said “y/n love, are you awake?” and before you could answer he scooped you up, carrying you inside. What a night for the books, in his arms you realized you really liked Tim, and after seeing that girl at the party you knew it was time to get a move on.

G.C. COUPLE ALERT: Y/N AND TIM SPOTTED AT THE BEACH! IS IT A DATE?

“You want me to take a day off?” Tim questioned as you talked excitedly over the phone. “Yes! You’re the damn CEO you deserve a day with mwah! Plus it’ll be fun! Have ever even seen a beach before city boy?” Tim snorted, this was coming from a Metropolis girl after all. “Fine only for the rescue the other day, I’ll pick you up in 20″ He hung up and you celebrated. All you had to do was flirt all day and he’d totally get the message. On the ride over the two of you got to really talking, not the small talk at a gala, really talking. You told him about your childhood and why you needed to leave Metropolis and he opened up about his parents. It was truly a moment when you felt your souls bonding. After a few hours of flirting and trying to get the message across Tim had avoided all of it. You even tried looking at his lips to try to get the two of you to move faster, but he never got the message. It started to seem like a hopeless endeavor so you gave up early, just enjoying his presence. That didn’t mean you weren’t discouraged.

GOTHAM CITY DRAMA ALERT: TIM DRAKE AND Y/N L/N KISS CAUGHT ON CAMERA

“Yeah I want another fucking drink. Why? Cuz I said so!” you chided the bartender at a charity auction. It was an open bar and after watching Tim busy all night you needed another drink. After a little persuasion you grabbed the drink and headed outside, wanting some fresh air. “Hey, I haven’t seen you. What if I needed saving!” you turned around to see Tim, he approached, sitting down next to you. “What’s up” he nudged your shoulder, noticing the alcohol on your breath. “You want honestly Tim?” you questioned, and he nodded. “Well maybe you can give me some advice. There’s this guy I really like. And we hangout all the time and I like really really like him. But I don’t know how he feels and I’m scared I’ll ruin everything” you poured your heart out, and Tim’s eyes softened. “Well I can’t believe you haven’t told me about the lucky guy, but if it were me I’d say I’m pretty oblivious so maybe you could make the first move and he’s slow at emotions like me. Plus you can’t just tell me you really really like a guy and not tell me who he is!” Tim teased you, but you took the advice seriously. “You really think I’ve just gotta go for it?” you stared into his eyes. With a shrug he replied “well yeah I think so. I mean maybe not tonight because you’re a little drunk and you can’t let alcohol solve all your pro- Mmhph!” you didn’t need more than that, crashing your lips on to Tim’s. Your heart soared when he kissed you back, his hand caressed your cheek pulling you closer in. You heard a few camera clicks in the distance but you were too focused on the feeling of Tim’s lips on yours. Pulling apart you and Tim were grinning. “So I’m the lucky guy huh?” he said sheepishly while you nodded and blushed. “I feel really dumb right now” he admitted as you mumbled “yeah kinda but we’re here now” and you leaned in to kiss him again.

GOTHAM TONIGHT: Y/N L/N SOON TO BE Y/N DRAKE-WAYNE?

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” you shrieked as Tim got on one knee. He’d convinced you to take a day off, saying the two of you deserved a day at the beach. You should’ve known something was up, Tim never took days off. As you questioned him about who was covering patrol and texted Damian saying you’d have to reschedule your cheese viking tournament Tim shushed you, saying it was time for a day at the beach. The two of you reminisced on how he missed all the signs you dropped in the car and at the beach, it all seemed so full circle. He’d taken you up to a lighthouse, you loved watching the waves crash on the rocks. The two of you spent a while just talking, truly feeling on top of the world. When the tide grew stronger around sunset you got up to look out on the ocean, and when you turned around you saw Tim fumbling with something in his pocket. “Y/N I never thought I’d find my person, but not only did I find my soulmate, I found my best friend and savior. You’ve saved me from everything from boring galas to my own life after some of the roughest nights ever, you’ve stood with me through it all, you stayed with me when you learned about my identity, you’ve been my rock and I need you in my life forever. So what do you say? You’ve always like Y/N Drake Wayne so can it be official?” you watched him get on one knee, pulling out the ring and you fell into his arms. Coming down the cliff you saw he’d gathered your family and his, they cheered and celebrated as you held Tim’s hand, never wanting to let go. 

GOTHAM NEWS HOUR: TIM AND Y/N DRAKE-WAYNE TIE THE KNOT!

“Do you, Tim Drake-Wayne promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, for as long as you both shall live?

“I do, forever and always”

“And do you, Y/N L/N promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health

“I do, I do with every fiber of my being”

“Then I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride”

“Here’s to forever babe”

“Forever and always Timmy”

[full-of-roman-angst-trash]

A Prince’s Room

Part 2

Concept by @yeet-ceit

TW: Unsympathetic Sides (Except for Roman), Perfectionism, Self-Doubt, Cursing, Arguing, Injury? (Roman gets slapped). If I missed any, pleased tell me and I will add it.

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1807

Roman wants to be perfect. No, he needs to be perfect. And part of being perfect is being a good friend. Roman loves the other sides. He loves them more than anything in the world. Even more than Disney and musical theater. His friends are the main reason why his still holding on. He doesn’t want to lose them. He can’t lose them. He won’t survive if he does.

So, to make sure he doesn’t he takes notes. He writes down ways to make sure he’s constantly improving. Any bad habits that the others point out or flaws he writes down and tries to fix. 

The lists went on and on. Hung up on the walls of his room to make sure he always remembers. And as time goes on, more and more is added to the list. Every small addition getting him one step closer to perfection.

Remember to keep your voice level normal. Don’t talk too loudly.

Stop being so dramatic, you're taking too much attention away from the others.

Don’t be too confident, it comes off as cocky and no one like someone that’s too cocky.

Don’t rant about your interest for too long it gets annoying and boring.

Don’t be selfish, no one likes a selfish person.

....................

The chart came along a few months later. 

Roman had already been taking notes on how to please his friends however he decided to reorganize his notes into a chart. Each side had their own section containing list of what they liked, disliked, what cheered them up, and what upsets them.

Logan

Likes: Crofters, astrology, coffee, books, teaching, silence, human anatomy, schedules, deadlines, Thomas being productive, debating, constellations, being listened to, law, learning, classical music, poetry, Sherlock.

Dislikes: Being ignored, unnecessary emotions, sweets, dumb people, someone being too loud, childish movies, games, being behind schedule, illogical decisions, jokes, unrealistic dreams.

What makes him happy?: Stargazing, writing, meeting deadlines, winning debates, telling random facts, rapping, his onesie, reading, being left alone, being called cool, teaching.

What upsets him?: Being treated as a joke, being teased, being reminded of his mistakes, making mistakes, being ignored or overlooked, losing a debate, feeling dumb.

Patton

Likes: Cookies, drawing, cure animals, compliments, happy songs, seeing his friends happy, t.v shows, helping others, singing, dancing, playing dress up, stuffed animals, gifts, holidays, baking, sweets.

Dislikes: Screaming, loud noises, getting stuff thrown at him, blood, weapons, violence, seeing his friends injured, sad movies and stories.

What makes him happy?: Cuddles, movie nights, being showered with affection, cookies, drawing, karaoke nights, talking about his emotions, playing games with his friends, helping others, his onesie. 

What upsets him?: Seeing an animal die, seeing people in pain, being forced to grow up, seeing his friends in hurt, not being able to help someone, disappointing someone, letting Thomas down, letting his emotions control him.

Virgil

Likes: Candles, alternative music, spiders, his hoodie, Tim Burton films, My Chemical Romance, headphones, fidget cubes, staying up late, drama shows, bats, knives, collecting pins.  

Dislikes: The ocean, sudden loud noises, cheesy pop music, people that are too optimistic (except for Patton), someone being mean to his friends,

What makes him happy?: Doing makeup, painting his nails, listening to music, Patton’s baking, playing with his pet spider, meditating, watching murder myterious, watching Disney and Tim Burton movies.

What upsets him?: Being put on the spot, being called evil, being treated like an innocent kid, being called a darkside, being called a disorder rejection, talk about serious topics such as suicide and self harm. 

Remus

Likes: Gore, blood, mud, fighting, collecting weapons, deodorant, musicals, inappropriate jokes, Fleischer Studios, pranks, dancing, mythical creatures, things that glow in the dark, random t.v shows, horror movie, slime, candy, octopus, skirts, crop tops.

Dislikes: Cheesy love songs, rules, normal food aside from fast food, birds, learning, shaving, reading, romance movies/shows, backstabbers, lying, shaving cream, showers, losing fights.

What makes him happy?: Dissecting stuff, fighting, pranking others, dancing, singing, coming up with outfit ideas, punching stuff, playing with slime, reenacting horror movies, inappropriate jokes, hanging out in his trash can, being pet, Shrek, eating deodorant, someone doing his makeup.

What upsets him?: Being abandoned or left behind, being told he isn’t good enough, being compared to me, seeing Janus upset, seeing Virgil upset, being told to shave.

Janus

Like: Snakes, philosophy, Greek mythology, sewing, horror movies, mystery books, murder documentaries, self care, sleeping, warm baths, weighted blankets, debating, law.

Dislikes: The cold, when someone takes his hat, dumb comedy movies, eagles, action movies, unnecessary violence or gore, close minded people, liars, sharing secrets, being vulnerable. 

What makes hims happy?: Massages, weighted blankets, cuddling, hanging out with Remus, acting, having debates, seeing Remus and Virgil playfully argue, watching murder mysteries, singing.

What upsets him?: Being called evil, being ignored, seeing Remus or Virgil upset, Thomas not taking care of himself, being replaced, being left behind, people not understanding him, someone making fun of his scales, taking off his gloves.

....................

“Come on pussy! Let’s just march into his room, what’s the worse that could happen?”

“Language!” Patton quickly scolds Remus.

“What if he’s in there and he screams at us for barging in?! What if he gets really mad and chooses to get physical!? What if we see something we don’t want to!? What if he’s asleep and he get mad that we woke him up!? What if-”

“Virgil,” Logan interrupts the panicking side, “Your anxiety is causing you to catastrophize. Please, take a deep breath and try to filter out your cognitive distortion.”

The anxious side nods and takes a few deep breaths to calm himself.

“Now, I would like to add that I personally believe that Remus’ plan isn’t the worst idea ever and is currently the best one we have.” The logical side states.

“Well, while I love to agree with Remus, he is wrong in this instance,” 

Remus smirks widely, “Awe! Thanks Jany~ You’re too generous~”

The deceitful side rolls his eyes, “Let’s just go.”

“Fine,” Virgil stands up, looking rather done with everything.

The rest of the sides stand up as well and begin to make their way to the prince’s room.

Once they make it to his door, Remus immediately just breaks the door down and lets himself in.

“Surprise!”

 They walk in, greeted only by silence.

“He isn’t here?” Patton mumbles to himself.

“Doesn’t look like it. Let’s not go then.”

The other sides nod and start making their way out. Well, everyone except for Logan. 

The logical side instead gets distracted by a paper stabled to the wall. He walks over to it and reads it to himself. Once he’s done reading his looks around the room and notices all the papers on the wall. As well, as the lack of theater and Disney merchandise.

“Wait, doesn't Roman’s room look,” He pauses to search for the right words, “Wrong?”

The other sides stop walking and looks around.

“Now that you mention it,” Remus mumbles, “His room has changed a lot since I last saw it...”

The other start reading through the endless papers of tips to improve himself and advice. 

Suddenly Patton stops in front of a chart titled “Duties”

He slowly goes over it and buy the time he is done he is fuming with rage.

“What the hell!? Guys come look at this!”

The others go over, slightly amused and concerned.

Each of them take turns analyzing the chart. 

Roman had spend his day at the Imagination. After the whole wedding accident, he’s been stuck in a very toxic place and well he thought a small guest might help. So, he left early in the morning and began his guest. He hadn’t meant to stay there for as long as he did but he lost track of time. 

“Kiddo, we have a lot to talk about,” Patton mumbles in a passive aggressive tone.

....................

As the tired side starts approaching his room, he notices that all the either sides are gathered outside his room. Once he’s a bit closer, Virgil is the first to notice him. To his shock though, Virgil rushes to him and slaps him

“Roman, what the fuck!?”

Roman stands there shocked for a few minutes before looking at Patton, expecting to hear him scold Virgil. Instead however, Patton just look away from him.

“ANSWER ME!”

“I-...” Roman bites his lip to hold back the tears in his eyes, “I-I don’t understand... W-what did I do....?”

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING!?”

The prince-like-side flinches and looks down.

Remus puts a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, "Let me handle this.”

For some reason, Roman thought that Remus would be on his side. He thought that if anyone understood what he was trying to do, it would be his brother. Or that his brother would at least explain what happened and let him tell his part of the story.

So, he looked up with a hopeful expression. 

“Don’t look at me like that. What the fuck is wrong with you!? If you think we were such a hassle then why did you stay friends with us!?”

Any hope that Roman had immediately leaves his body, “I-I... I never said that! Where is this coming?!”

“DON’T BULLSHIT ME, ROMAN!” Remus summons his morning star, “WE SAW THE FUCKING CHART! SO, WHAT!? WE’RE NOTHING MORE THAN “DUTIES” TO YOU!?” 

The usual confident side is now frozen in shock. They weren’t supposed to see that chart. They weren’t supposed to see his room at all. If Roman was being honest, he could understand why they took the chart the wrong way. The name of it wasn’t exactly the best but it was all he could think of while actually making it. Now though, he wished he would have pushed himself to think of a better name.

“N-No! You got it all wrong!” He is now crying, flinching away from his brother, “I was just trying to make you guys happy!”

Remus scoffs and puts his weapon away. He walks away from Roman and returns to Janus’ side.

“Whatever, Roman.”

His knees give out and he falls to the floor in defeat.

“I would greatly appreciate if you keep your distance from Patton and I from now on. If you fail to do so, I can’t exactly guarantee that I will be nice. Goodbye Roman.”

“Fucking pussy.” Remus throws out.

And just like that Logan sinks down with a crying Patton.

“And I thought I was the snake,” Janus adds, looking at him in pure disgust.

Then, they’re gone.

For a few seconds Virgil stares at the broken prince in front of him.

“You really are an idiot.”

He looks away from him and sinks down with a scoff leaving the weeping prince on the floor. 

Alone.

....................

[kindness-bliss]

New Beginnings Ch. 8

Timothy Thatcher x OC

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: none

Maya got ready at her shoot as she looked at herself in the mirror and scrolled through her instagram feed to let time pass, searching Tim’s name in the search bar as she looked through as raised a brow at how many fans adored him and posted pictures with him and events   “Well damn, he’s wanted” she nodded impressed as she continued to read captions, not understanding most of them since they were in German, raising a brow as she saw heart emojis on captions “Too bad he’s mine”. She grinned as she saw more and more from men she assumed were his friends always talking about how respectful and hardworking he was in the business   She sat up startled from her lurking when she heard a familiar voice and sighed “Are you kidding me ? What the hell are you doing here ? This is a private shoot”    Marcel sighed as he stepped through and thanked the security guard “I saw you on the same company’s page who works hair and makeup for NXT, I put 2 and 2 together when I saw their stories and you happened to be tagged. I know, it’s very stalker of me”    “Extremely” she answered sternly as she covered herself in her robe “who does that ? This is my job you psycho. Once again, head empty no thoughts in that pretty big ass head of yours”    “I don’t even know what that means” He admitted quietly as he stood in shame in front of her “are-are you calling me stupid ?” Maya let out a breath as she shook her head “Kind of, now tell me why you’re here ?” she asked as she got touched up “and make it quick preferably, this is my work remember”     “What’s this I heard about Tim insulting you ? Why didn’t you tell me when it happened ? I’m gonna assume that’s why you were crying the other day at the store ?” he asked, giving a small nod when he saw her face look down at the floor “and yes, Walter told me everything so don’t worry you don’t need to go into details I just wanna know if you’re okay”   “I am fine, we’re all good” she nodded “I’m going to see him tomorrow, he has a match and he invited me”

  “What ?” he whispered as he looked up at her “y-you’re gonna go see him ? After what he did ?”. Marcel knew how much wrestling meant to him, how much he prided himself in his work. He knew Tim inviting Maya over was a big step for him in how he felt about her.

  “Absolutely I am, I wanna see him wrestle and how he is in that environment. I’m gonna assume you’re gonna be there too ?” Maya asked as they got her ready 

  “Yeah, we have a match too and well chances are Tim’s gonna introduce you to me so what are we gonna do ?”

She stiffened at his question and fixed her curls as she looked in the mirror as she slid off her robe revealing a one piece bathing suit with a deep plunge as she turned to look at him “If you think I’m gonna tell Tim that you and I had a 3 year long relationship then you’re dead wrong. No way I would ever tell him something like that at his workplace, so let’s get this straight alright ? Tomorrow you keep your mouth shut and you tell your little friends or whomever to not say a thing or I’ll have my other model friends put a word out that you guys like screwing around when you’re on the clock”

     Marcel widened his eyes at her look and tone as he clenched his jaw “Maya I-”

“Maya nothing” she snapped back “You really think I didn’t know ? You really think Walter also wouldn’t tell me that you tried to get Alex and Fabio or whatever the fuck his name is to tell Tim for you ? To do your...our dirty work ? He texted me everything just before I got here, how you wanted to tell Tim abruptly and then I’d have to deal with the rest. Alex ? Yeah did you forget I also helped his wife out with her bridesmaid dresses and got to know the both of them really well ? He sent me an instagram DM telling me everything too, basically apologizing for your shitty actions. You’re a spineless little coward Marcel, 3 years and you haven’t changed one damn bit”

  “I-I...it w-wasn’t like that” he stuttered out nervously stepping forward

“Bull shit !” she exclaimed as she slapped him across the face and breathed heavily

Marcel stood back as he rubbed his cheek and gave a frown as his blue eyes stared at hers “I’m sorry, I just….I still love you” he whispered as he left hastily

  Maya sighed as she rubbed the feeling back in her hand and let the makeup artist fix her eyes “Mickey, did you tell him I was here ?”

 “You try saying no to that piece of German goodness” Mickey shook his head “His accent came out and I melted, then he did the whole pleading puppy dog thing with his blue eyes and well, I was sold. I’m sorry Maya, I didn’t realize how big of an issue it would be. You really gave it to him good though, he walked away as if you stomped on his heart”  

“Yeah well I didn’t wanna do that exactly” she admitted “He’s just being sneaky and I hate it, it reminds me of what happened when we were in a bad spot”   

“Well I’ll tell you this girl, Timothy Thatcher is all man and would never do that shit to you” he giggled Maya raised a brow as she let out a chuckled “and how do you know I’m seeing Tim, what’s going on here that I’m not aware of ?”   Mickey smirked as he dabbed some gloss on her lips “Tim from what I’ve seen and heard is quiet but apparently he told some of the guys that you’re gonna go see him and he’s a little...giddy. Now I’ve been working hair and makeup there a while and I’ve been there since he got there and nothing has made that man do a complete 180 like you have”   She blushed as she listened and looked around the room “So you think he...likes me likes me ? Like he wants me to be his...you know ?”   “Girlfriend ?” he chuckled “oh yeah, I heard from Candice, who heard from her husband Johnny who heard from his friend Oney that Tim told him tomorrow was pivotal”  “Oh” she whispered softly as she walked with him “I’m not gonna expect anything though, especially after this whole fiasco. I’m gonna have a nice day with him tomorrow and focus on that. Now let’s get this thing done so I can call him”   “You’re just as whipped as he is” Mickey chuckled as he helped set her up ______________________________________________________________ “What’s with that face ?” Tim asked Oney “You’re red and you’ve been on your phone for like 5 minutes, Oney ?” he sighed as he walked over and took his phone and let out a tight cough “this-this from today ?”   “Yeah” Oney nodded as he took his phone back and put it in his pocket 

“Um all I can and want to say is….you are one very very lucky man Tim, very lucky”

  “I like her for other things besides her looks” Tim rolled his eyes as he grabbed his gym bag “she’s a good person, she’s understanding, she’s really smart and funny. She’s a great cook, she’s super funny” he chuckled “and she-what ? why are you looking at me like that ?”

  Oney grinned as he walked with him to the showers “You really like this girl, it’s not just a little rendezvous like you had thought it’d be. I’ve known you for a while and never have I seen you act this way towards a girl”

  “Don’t” Tim warned as he took off his shirt “It’s just that I like her and I feel she feels the same about me and you know that’s it”

  “So it’s okay if she dates other guys while talking to you ?”

“I never said that” he said almost immediately as he turned around “Why ? Is she ? Have you heard anything ?”

 “Chill out, I was just joking but point proven” Oney chuckled “I say you ask her out, officially like to be your girlfriend”

  Tim nodded as grabbed his things “I was thinking about that after tomorrow”

“I think you should” Oney nods as he looked around “oh look it’s Marcel, shit look at his face” he grimaced

  “What the hell happened to you ?” Tim asked concerned “Your cheek is red as can be, are you okay ?”

“We need to talk” Marcel said sternly “Alone, and it has to be now”

Tim nodded as he changed and followed him outside

   Maya arrived at her apartment as she exited her elevator and saw Tim standing against her door “hey” she grinned “what are you doing here ?”

  “So when were you gonna tell me you were engaged to one of my closest friends ? Or did you plan on keeping that a secret forever ?” he asked wasting no time as he crossed his arms trying his best to stay calm

  Her stomach turned as she blinked trying her best to catch her breath “I-I…. Tim listen, I wanted to tell you I did, I promise I did but things happened and then the Walter thing and I just couldn’t find the appropriate chance to do so but I promise I was. I promise, you have to believe me” Maya pleaded as she reached for his hand flinching when he yanked it back

  “I don’t believe a word you said, I don’t. I don’t even trust anything you’ve told me in the past, probably more lies from you. I’m not gonna insult you or demean you like I did last time because quite frankly...you’re not worth it” he said coldly as he stepped back “Have a nice life and don’t contact me again”    

 “Tim, please don’t do this” she whispered tearfully as she grabbed his arm lightly

“Don’t touch me” he responded quietly as he carefully lifted her hand and placed it by her side “Goodbye Maya”

  He left her apartment quickly, and didn't look back knowing if he saw her face he wouldn’t be able to leave. Once in his car, he wiped his eyes quickly as he turned on the radio and sped off back to his place where he knew he could release his emotions freely and privately

  “What did you do !” she practically screamed into her phone “You fucking told him !”

“It needed to be said” Marcel said quietly “I’m sorry, I am but we both know you were gonna wait it out too long and it would only make things worse. I did this for the both of us”

  “I fucking hate you” she spat out “and I will never ever speak to you again in my life, ever. You’re dead to me” she hung up

  Marcel rubbed his face as he threw his phone across his room and laid down in bed as he looked up at the ceiling and drifted to sleep, trying his hardest to forget about the chaos he selfishly created

  All eyes were on Tim as he entered the Capitol wrestling center the next morning, he heard and saw it all as he walked into the locker room. The looks of pity people gave him, the mumbles and whispers they gave each other as rumours about what had happened at the gym went around. None of it mattered, at least not to him. The damage had been done and if there was one thing that was hurting him other than his heart it was his pride. He knew deep down it had been kept for him for a reason, but the lying and deceiving still hurt.

  “Hey” Marcel said quietly as he opened his locker “Listen I won’t bother you but I just want to say I’m sorry about what happened and it's my fault entirely. Maya wanted to tell you after today” he finally admits “After your match, she wanted you to have a good match and then break it down to you on he own time and I selfishly told you because I still love her and in my stupid head I thought that once you knew and let her know she would somehow want me but instead she told me I’m dead to her”

   Tim nodded as he laced up his boots and didn’t bother to look at him “yeah well, that makes two of us. I don’t want her around me, I don’t wanna hear from her again or anything like that. It’s done and over with and we should just not speak of her again. She’s something of the past and well I’m not gonna hold your past against you”

  Marcel furrowed his brow “Y-you’re not going to attempt to talk to her ? She’s pretty sad Tim….”

“Nope” he shook his head “She’s the one who started this so it ends, I don’t like things like that and I can’t just let it slide by. Her choice was made to lie, so now we leave it at that please. I don’t care nor do I wish to hear about her again”

  “I understand” Marcel nodded as he put on his tracksuit and headed down seeing everyone glare at him as he sped down the hallway to catering sitting down by himself in a table and beckoning over Fabian and Alex “Over here guys”

    “No thanks” Alex muttered as he looked at him and turned around “I prefer not to deal with you unless it’s necessary for tv”

“Agreed” Fabian nodded

“I know it was a mistake okay, you can stop with the harsh punishment.I should have never tried to involve you two either and I’m sorry I did. I regretted this whole thing as soon as I opened my mouth and saw his face. I was selfish and it was wrong, can we just stop now ? Please” he pleaded “I hurt Tim, I hurt Maya, Walter isn’t answering any of my messages or calls. I get it now, I do” Marcel rambled “Please just sit with me, you don’t have to talk to me but just sit with me so I can at least have some company while everyone stares at me”

    “No” they both answered in unison as they shook their heads and left him alone

Marcel looked down as he played with his plate of food feeling all eyes on him as he tried his hardest to ignore the stares and whispers and took out his phone seeing still no messages or calls from Walter and sent one last message   “Hasst du mich jetzt ?” (do you hate me now ?) “Nein, nur sehr enttäuscht” (no, just very disappointed)

He sighed and put his phone away as he shook his head, upset at himself for what he had done but knowing deep down he didn’t regret it. Maya was his one true love, the one person who understood him and helped him cope with the loss of his father and deal with the emotions rather than ignore them and hold them in.

  “Are you gonna go after her ?” Tim asked nonchalantly as he sat with him “because you can, I don’t care”

  “What ?” Marcel asked his head shot up quickly

“Don’t act stupid Marcel, you still love her and I know you did this in a way to get me to be mad at her so I”d leave her alone and therefor you could go after her”

   He knew him so well, so well it truly fucked with him “Yeah” Marcel nodded “I let her go once and it ruined me and now she’s here and right now she wants nothing to do with me but I’ll give her that space and then I’ll fight, I’ll fight like I should’ve fought for her 3 years ago and this time, she’ll end with me” he looked in his older friends eyes “We’ll get that happy ending we both wanted”

  Tim simply give a short nod as he sipped his water “Then go ahead”

Marcel looked around as he got up and left back to the locker room, not wanting to cause anymore awkwardness between them and sat by himself as he listened to music

  “Well if it isn’t the life ruiner” Oney rolled his eyes as he stood in front of him “Are you happy with your actions ? With ruining the one thing giving Tim genuine happiness ?”

  “Oney, please” he rubbed his face “This is something you don’t understand, don’t get involved”

“You ruined the one thing my friend wanted, I’m sure as hell gonna get involved you traitor” he shoved him 

  Marcel sighed “Don’t do this, I don’t have the energy to-” he stumbled back as he held his eye and groaned

“You deserve that and way fucking more” Oney spat out as he left ______________________________________________________________    Maya wiped her eyes for what seemed like the 500th time as she once again got sent to voicemail and let out a frustrated cry getting up when she assumed her takeout was delivered “I said to just leave it at the door” she whined putting on her hoodie “stop knocking !” she finally yelled as she opened the door ready to rage “I clearly said-” her eyes widened at the scene in front of her “what the hell happened to you ?” she asked   

“Oney punched me” Marcel said quietly as he removed the ice bag he had and revealed a bruised and bloodied eye

  “Oney ? That’s Tim’s friend” she said as he remembered his face from the gym

“Yes him, he punched me in the locker room for….for what happened” he said quietly “I needed to get out of there and the only place I could think of was here. I know you hate me and wish I was better off dead but I just had to come. I’ll leave though if you want me to”

  Maya looked up at him as she opened her door and stepped aside “come in”

He stepped inside and sat down on her couch “I’m sorry, I am so so sorry” he whispered “I acted so selfishly”

    “What’s done is done” she whispered “You unfortunately can’t take it back, and truth be told you were right” she admitted “I would’ve just kept waiting and waiting to tell him and let time pass by, in a way what you did benefited me more than anyone Marcel, you did the hardest part and all I had to do was explain myself”

  He shrugged as he bit the inside of his cheek and looked up

“Don’t cry” Maya chuckled weakly “I’ve been crying since last night, and I’m positive I can cry for the both of us and this whole fiasco

  “I’m not” he blinked away tears quickly

“You’re doing the thing, the cheek thing and looking up. You really think I wouldn’t forget how you try to hide emotions after all this time ? she scooted over as she gently patted his hand “You’re the ugliest crier too” she joked trying her best to lighten him up

Marcel gave a light laugh as he sniffled “You’re really good that you know ?”

  Maya gave him a small grin as she dabbed his cheek with a tissue and got the alert of her food delivery “stay for dinner ?”

“Absolutely” he answered as he nodded. Sometimes life truly does work in weird weird ways.

[watchtower-feed]

Death Do We Part (Part 11)

SSA Spin-off ✧ Jason Todd ✧ Physical Link ✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧ 4 ✧ 5 ✧ 6 ✧ 7 ✧ 8 ✧ 9 ✧ 10 ✧ 11 ✧ 12 ✧ 13 ✧ 14 ✧ 15 ✧ Notes: (NSFW) This is looooong overdue. I hope I made the wait worth it. It’s not smut though, I don’t think. I wanted it to be... softer? romantic? special? Words: 3,100+

    Where are you headed?

    You run a couple of blocks before you hide in an alley and close your eyes. You’re immediately met with a piercing sensation on the back of your hand. You feel Jason take out what was lodged and blood oozes down from your new wound. Then the muscles on your legs are extending and retracting, he’s running away.

    This is the hard part but you have to get this right. You grew up in these streets. You know Gotham about as much as you know Jason. You pay attention to the smell, the noise, and the direction of the wind because you need to know exactly where Jason is running off to.

    It takes you an hour to finally figure out where he’s going. You’ve been following his trail as best you can. He’s running through streets with the same amount of foot traffic as any other bad part of Gotham. But it’s only when you hear the siren on his end and it’s in tune with the same siren that passes you in the street, that you look around to finally take in where you are and now you’re sure which building he’s in and which unit.

    You walk up to the Todds’ old apartment and stand stiff in front of their door that’s been left partly open. The lights are off inside and you don’t hear anything. 

     As if acting on its own, your hand pushes the door until it’s swung all the way out, giving you a full view of a slightly furnished apartment, with Jason sitting on the floor, his back resting against the back of the couch, tending to his wound. 

     He doesn’t look at you but the lights from the hallway flood in and illuminate him. He knows you’re there.

    “Don’t worry, Y/N. The bleeding will stop soon. Gonna hurt like a bitch for days though.”

    Are you dreaming? Have you fallen asleep in the safe house and your mind is only giving you what you want? Or is there still fear toxin in your body and this is actually a nightmare waiting to happen.

     Slowly, you take one step at a time until you’re standing in front of him. 

    Jason snorts and raises his eyebrows but he keeps his eyes on his hand, “Took you long enough to find me.”

     You kneel on the floor, making him pause what he’s doing. Finally, he looks at you and stares with half-hooded eyes and the smallest hint of a pout. He has aged, gotten taller and bigger, broad shoulders and bulging muscles, but he still wears the same expression on his face whenever he thinks he’s about to be scolded.

    Gently, afraid he’ll move away or suddenly disappear, you bring up your hands to touch his face. The instant you’re holding him, he leans into your touch, with his eyes closed and brows creased with so many lines.

    You tear up at the sight of him. His pain and fear and relief are all mixing together. You touch your forehead to his and he places his hands over yours.

    “You’re not mad?” he whispers.

    You laugh like a long sigh, loud and breathless, “Of course I’m mad. Exasperated. Downright blood boiling, fist-clenching mad, Jason.”

    He smirks and nuzzles his nose against yours. “You know, it’s easier to fucking swear.”

    16 when he died. 17 almost 18 now. Jason is a killer. An assassin. A Gotham criminal. But he’s also still so young. He was a teenager when he died. A teenager when he came back to life. And right now he’s still a teenager teasing you while your hands are bleeding through his badly done bandages.

     You kiss him.

     The moment your lips touch Jason takes you in, pushing his lips harder against yours, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you in until there’s no more room in between. You tip your head to the side and kiss deeper. His tongue finds yours first and you never knew until this moment how much you really missed Jason.

     It’s like coming home after running in the darkness for so long, almost forgetting what it was like to be in the light and then suddenly being overwhelmed by its intensity and heat.

    You part but only enough to catch your breaths. Your foreheads and noses are still touching. Your hands are still framing his face and you feel his laughter vibrate from his cheeks before you hear it. “You know, on paper, this is technically incest, Robin Wayne.”

    You instantly bring down your eyebrows in frustration, “Jason, please. I finally have you back. Don’t make me murder you.”

    He laughs and it fills the old apartment. You can feel the heavy weight in your heart lifting every time his chest vibrates against yours. You laugh as well. You’ve always known that Jason hides his fears behind humor, and right now he’s terrified.

    “The infection will probably get us first,” he looks at the back of his hand from behind your shoulder and you see your own hand still bleeding. Grudgingly, but only slightly, you pull back to bring his hand down and tend to it. You wrap his hand tightly and secure it while he stares at your focused eyes. He wants to apologize. 

     It’s not just for this wound. It’s all the other wounds he’s accumulated through the years. As Red Hood. As a League assassin. As Robin and as Jason Todd. He wants to mend everything. But you’ve always been the one who’s better at taking care of both of your wounds.

    “Thank you, Y/N.”

    You blush. He said it before but you weren’t listening then. You haven’t heard him say your name in years. The way his voice always softens when he’s saying it, how his lips curl at the ends after the last syllable, like he’s gloating that your name is something only he can say.

    “Ja--”

    There are so many things to say. So many questions to ask. Things to clarify, to get off your chest, to shout, to scream, and to whisper. But this universe is shit and you have so little time. Less time than you know and it always only takes a second to change everything from bad to worse.

    Your phone rings in your pocket and Jason takes it out far quicker than you. A single bat symbol greets him on the illuminated screen. He quickly stands up and walks over to the window looking over the road.

    “Jason, what--”

    He waits for a car to come by and then throws the phone on top of the roof with the least pressure he can muster to keep it functional. If it breaks, they’ll go to the last location recorded. If it looks like you’re on the move again, they won’t look for you here. 

    When he turns back to you, he’s gritting his teeth and clenching his fist. “Are you an idiot? Batman always puts a tracker on our phones.”

    You know that. You’re stunned, stuck between staring at Jason’s seething demeanor and wondering why. Why would that bother him? It’s there for your own safety.

    “Jason…” you pause, wondering if you actually need to ask this, “do you not-- are you not coming back?”

    Jason’s eyes widened, “Back to what?!” He paces by the window. “Back to the manor, to Bruce? Back to Batman and his new Robin?” He suddenly stops pacing and glares down at you, “Tim.”

    You shudder, “That’s not fair.”

    “I know,” he retorts, mocking you while rolling his eyes, “I heard you. Crying and screaming like you didn’t mean it--”

    You stand up quickly, “What about Talia, huh?! You had sex with her, Jason!”

    He scoffs, “That didn’t mean anything--”

    “Oh, that’s rich! You fucked her, Jason!” You hit his chest, hurting you more than it did him. The pain makes you angrier and you’re shouting now. “We’re soulmates and yet you slept with her!”

    Jason stares you down with a steely gaze, “Why does that matter? It stopped mattering to you.”

    “No, it didn’t--!”

    “I know you, Y/N. Ever since we were younger I felt the little flutters in your chest and the small heat on your cheeks when you watch me, when you’re falling for whatever stupid thing I’d do.” He pauses then leans down closer so you can see it, the hurt plainly screwing up his face, “I felt it when you were with Tim.”

     You stare at Jason and wonder if he’s serious. If he really thinks you stopped loving him. Didn’t you? He had Talia. You had Tim. Jason on this warpath that’s gotten you and Alfred hurt. Really hurt.

    What if he’s the one who stopped loving you?

     “I may have slept with Talia but I didn’t love her or like her. But you--”

     “Jason.”

     You want to look away from him, to stop seeing the despair and distaste he’s feeling right now. But life has proven to be too short to dwell on anything other than the present, the only moment that truly exists for the two of you.

    “Tim was there for me when you weren’t. Like you had Talia--” Jason looks like he wants to interrupt but you raise your voice, “But it’s finally just us here.”

     You look into his eyes and with effortless sincerity, you speak your truth. The only truth that matters now.

    “I love you. More than anything in the world, I love you. Please understand that.”

    Jason’s face immediately shifts. The sides of his mouth twitch as his eyes soften and turn to the floor.

     You reach out to touch his face again and to your relief he lets you. He hangs his head so you can reach him with ease. His hair covers half his eyes and they’re staring at you. Jason takes a step forward and slowly embraces you. He rests his weary head on your shoulder and you bury your face against his chest, inhaling every last scent.

     You stay like that for a long time, just resting and touching, but the moment you start feeling him move again, it’s too soon.

    “It’s almost dawn. You should go back.”

    You clutch harder to make him stay and you frown against his shirt. “You’re really not coming back with me?” you whisper.

    Jason sighs but he answers you in the same hushed tone, “Y/N, I can’t. Not yet. There’s still something I have to do--”

    “Kill the Joker?” 

    Jason presses his face harder on your shoulder and you feel his lips move against your skin when he speaks, “It’s not just that. Please, Y/N.” His hands move to the sides of your neck and gently push you back until he can look you in the eye. “I need to do this.”

    Your lips quiver at all the things you want to say, the words you want to convey to make him go back with you. But fear is overpowering, fear of not knowing is consuming. You have to ask. “Scarecrow hit me with the fear toxin. I’m sure you felt that. I need to know Jason, did you send him? To the cave? To us?” Jason's eyes are narrowed and his brows are creased in concern like your words are hurting him physically. “Alfred got most of it.”

    “Is he…”

    You shake your head and look down, “He’s okay now. He was sleeping before I left.”

    There was a pause before Jason spoke again. “I’m sorry. I really am.” You know that’s all he’s going to say. None of his plans, nothing of what happens next. Even if you ask, he’ll tell you it’s for your safety not to know.

    “Once this is all over,” he uses his thumbs to prop your chin up so you’ll look at him, “I promise to come back for you and we’ll go wherever you want us to go. We’ll be together all the time, grow old, and have the most ill-mannered kids. I promise.”

     You laugh even though Jason is serious. You’ll definitely hold him to that promise.

     You lean your forehead against his and your lips hover in hesitation and frustration before he finally kisses you. It’s not like before. This is a lot softer, more mannered, but it also feels more desperate.

    Slowly you separate and Jason’s hands limp down as you turn to the door. He watches your back and clenches his fist to keep himself from stopping you.

    But you do stop in front of the doorway, your hand unmoving on the handle. You stand there for a while before you finally close the door and lock it. Then you turn around and march back into Jason’s arms, kissing him deeper.

    He welcomes it and embraces you before pulling away. “That’s some goodbye kiss,” he comments and then takes your lips back in full.

    You pull back and you shake your head. “It’s not a goodbye kiss. Close your eyes.” You wait until he does and then you close your own. You focus on your own feelings, the way your face is heated, your heart is pounding in your chest, and how wet you are.

    He immediately opens his eyes and narrows them, “Y/N, no.”

    You’re taken aback. Your brows furrow instantly, pulling your body away from him. “It’s Talia, isn’t it?”

    “No, Y/N. No, it’s not. God no--” he steps back and harshly drags his hands down the sides of his face. He looks up at the ceiling and closes his eyes, “I’ve always wanted our first time to be special, okay?” His arms shoot up as he gestures around the room, “Not in this shitty apartment where there’s not even a shitty bed.”

    You stare at the blush that’s slowly enveloping his face. You don’t feel the same bashfulness anymore. Life and death have shown you how the world works and nothing ever happens the way you expect it to.

    You hold on to his shoulders and wait for his eyes to meet yours. “Make it special later. I’ve lost you more than I should have to. And right now I just-- I want to feel like your soulmate.”

    “You are,” Jason cups the sides of your face and stares back intensely, “Not because of our stupid link. But because I want you in my life for as long as I can. And I’ll make sure it’ll be for the longest goddamn time.”

    “I don’t care about tomorrow or any future,” you retort. “Right now, I want to be with you, Jason. Now is ours.”

     You lean in until your lips are inches apart. His ragged breath dances on your lips until Jason finally closes the gap. He kisses you gently and carries you in his arms, making you squeal into his mouth.

     Unfazed, Jason lays you on the couch and slowly undresses you until his hands will only ever touch your skin. You sit up and reach for him. He lets you take off his clothes, pulling his shirt over his head, unbuckling his belt until they drop to the floor, and pulling down his pants along with his boxers.

     He kicks off his boots before he hovers over you with his arms framing your body. You both take in each other’s forms and start counting scars, and bruises, and wounds that mimic each other, falsely disguising that you’ve lived your lives together as one.

     You touch Jason’s arm, tugging until he finally leans down and kisses you. Your hand travels down his back, to his side, and down to his crotch. He grunts when he feels your fingers wrap around him and you moan when you feel it, too.

     Jason dips his fingers inside you, making you gasp. He closes his eyes as he moans at the same time. You touch his face and wait until he opens his eyes to look at you. You nod your head and brace yourself as Jason shifts his body until his tip is touching the lips of your pussy.

     When he slowly pushes himself in, your fingers dig into his back and your mouth hangs open as a never-ending gasp escapes you. Your back arches off the couch, grazing your clit against his hip bone and you both yell out at the same time.

     Jason looks at you with wide eyes and a hint of confusion, wondering if that was the kind of intensity you would always feel when you do this, when you’re one like this. He kisses you while he waits for your walls to relax around him. When he feels your hips moving beneath him, he starts moving again.

     It’s the most sensational feeling either of you have ever felt. All this time, all you’ve known in your life is pain and fear. Endless nights of suffering that you’ve thrown away all hope for anything else. But right here, right now, your bodies are being consumed by the electricity skittering on the tips of your skin and flames pooling at the depths of your stomach and blazing up and down your spines.

     You’re moaning without inhibitions and Jason drags down his kisses and takes out his frustration on your neck. He sucks and bites and licks it all better before starting all over on a new patch of skin.

     As your voices go louder, your bodies move faster until you can hear skin slapping against each other. Finally, Jason’s name escapes your lips as you cum. The feeling is far too much for him and his body quivers soon after yours.

     You’re taking in ragged breaths as you wait for the electricity to leave your bodies. With as much effort as he can muster, Jason lifts you with one hand so you can lie on top of him on the couch. Your head rests on his chest with your arms draped over his torso. Your legs tangle themselves with his and Jason kisses the top of your head.

     “We’ll make it special later,” he says breathlessly and you cry softly. 

     He uses his thumbs to wipe the tears from your face and you want to tell him that this is special. Every moment he spends with you is special.

     “I don’t want to go back,” you whisper and it pains you just to say it. The thought of disappearing from Bruce and Alfred and Dick and Tim, and the idea of walking away from Jason now is tearing you apart.

     He hums against your skin and continues to massage your cheekbones with his thumb. “We’ll be together soon. But for now, you’re safer with Bruce.”

     “We can go home together. Just imagine it, Jason. How shocked and happy they’ll be to see you walking into the safe house with me.” You watch as Jason closes his eyes, picturing the scene you’re dictating to him. You can see the lines creasing around his forehead and you know he wants it too but he doesn’t believe in it.

     His lips press harder against your forehead, urging you to stop. More tears stream down your face and it’s you who wipe them this time.

     You lean forward and kiss Jason on the lips. Then you watch as the soft light of a new day stream down his features. You have to go.

     Jason kisses you again, holding on to your face, and then grudgingly lets you go. He lies on the couch with his hand draped over his eyes as you gather your clothes and get dressed. You kneel beside his head and say his name.

     “I can’t, Y/N-- If I see you, I won’t have it in me to let you walk out of here.”

     So you kiss his cheeks with quivering lips and your tears warm his skin before you leave the Todds’ old apartment.

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✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧  

[lenawin4]

an offer you can’t refuse

HOW WE DOIN ELLICK FANS?

I had this fic in my drafts halfway done, but after I watched that promo, I finished it in like, two hours. hope y’all enjoy. (also, may or may not contribute to the wave of 18x05/18x06 speculation fics. EXCITED)

summary: 

“It’ll be fun,” Nick said on Day Four, then looked at them incredulously. “What? You’ve never taken down the mafia before?” ft. the whole gang, some blink-and-you’ll-miss-it mentions of Tiva, and prank wars.

Or: Nick’s jealous, Ellie’s clueless, and the team dismantles a crime family.

rating: gen, k+

length: 3.4k

genres: fluff, minor angst, romance

read on ffn | ao3

So Ellie’s in her corner of the bullpen, and Nick can’t stop looking at her. That’s how it all starts.

She’s wearing one of her cashmere sweaters, and they’ve been working this case for so long that her outfit is three days old. The bags under her eyes can’t be hidden by makeup and the curls in her hair have started to flatten. She has that crease in between her eyebrows that warns him not to bother her with a stupid joke, but that’s never stopped him before.

Ellie’s phone rings, so he freezes in the middle of sauntering over to her, halfway through the bullpen. It’s magic: her eyes widen slightly; the crease disappears; a slow smile spreads, then a grin.

The corners of his mouth start to slip upward, but he fights it down because McGee is at his desk. He’s talking to the local PDs, spelling out one of the long Italian names they’re trying to pin on something, and Tim is eyeing him like a hawk.

“Mark?” Ellie shouts into the phone. 

Who?

“Gimme a sec,” Ellie points to her phone and mouths, I have to take this, sorry, and Nick is left gaping at the back of her head as she runs to the break room.

-

That happens on Day Six. A recap:

Dead sailor in a drive-by shooting in Bethesda. Grab your gear.

There was cocaine underneath the bed and piles of cash in the closet in the sailor’s apartment.

McGee traced a bank account in the Caymans to a Joey DiGiorno, as in, It’s-not-delivery-it’s-DiGiorno’s.

“Do you think he has a cousin named Domino’s?” Ellie asked; and —

For the fifth time this month, Nick realizes that he’s in love with Ellie Bishop.

Joey does not have a cousin, but he does have a criminal record and an uncle who happens to be the DC/Virginia/Maryland leader of the DiGiorno Family. 

“Wow, two states and the capital city,” said McGee. “Impressive.”

On top of Nick’s To Do List - Get Gibbs everything on this guy: records, cars, girlfriends, other nieces and nephews, etc., etc.

“It’ll be fun,” Nick said on Day Four, then looked at them incredulously. “What? You've never taken down the mafia before?”

-

McGee follows the money to a nightclub in DC (“Do they serve pizza?”; “Nick, please.”), but there’s no way to know when or how the drugs are smuggled into the building, which can only mean one thing: stakeout time.

Stakeouts are the worst. Stakeouts mean unlimited time in a confined place with nothing better to do, the uncomfortable silence of Nick and his thoughts and the little place in his head that teeters between sixteen different names and a glass jar of lake water that hides on the shelf of his apartment.

Right now, a stakeout is the best thing that could ever happen to him.

So, Mark. He can’t exactly Boyle his way into this, not after Bishop nearly chewed his head off because he cancelled her date. 

It’s not helping that Bishop keeps smiling at her phone every two hours, and semi-aggressively types out a text in all caps and extra exclamation marks. (He watches the way her fingers move. He knows those are exclamation marks. Like, at least ten of them.)

“Didn’t know dates liked it when you yelled at them all the time.”

“What?” Ellie says, not looking up from her phone.

He puts his feet up on the desk a little too harshly. Ellie wrinkles her nose.

“What could possibly be more important than this very, very interesting stakeout right now? Don’t you see there’s a hooker in front of the club and it’s barely noon? We should report it to Gibbs.”

There’s that sarcastic laugh that’s reserved for him, a quip about not being able to afford her, then back to the invisible Mark he’s heard nothing about.

-

To: ninja lady, 11:59

hey on a stakeout w El. what should i do

To: big wuss, 12:05

prank war. worked for us.

To: ninja lady, 12:06

i’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not

-

He tells her he’s buying fast food and chips a few blocks away. He asks the cashier for an extra paper bag and places a spring-loaded glitter bomb from the Dollar Tree at the bottom.

-

To: ninja lady, 14:05

success

To: big wuss, 14:07

ha! watch your six. revenge is tasty, no?

To: ninja lady, 14:09

i think you mean vengeance is sweet, but check with your husband

-

Nick returns from a bathroom break and peers left and right. Nothing in the room has changed: Ellie is still finishing the bag of fries. Her head is turned towards the window, and she’s glancing at her phone every few seconds. Maybe that’s an exaggeration, but he sort of doesn’t care. His chair hasn’t moved from the computer desk, and there are no booby traps outside the bathroom door or in the hallway.

Okay. The coast is clear.

“Hey, maybe you should check your face one more time, I think you still have glitter — ”

Splat.

His chair explodes in a tidal wave of green and red paint, splattering all over his jeans — gross, it feels so cold — and his leather jacket. 

When he looks up, Ellie’s beaming at him from behind her phone, fry stuck in her mouth like a cigarette, green paint smeared across her cheek like evidence. Mercilessly, she sends the video to McGee, Kasie, and Tony.

-

To: big wuss, 17:25

I’m disappointed.

To: ninja lady, 17:29

yeah, yeah, laugh all you want

this sucks

To: big wuss, 17:30

Not just the stakeout, I presume?

To: ninja lady, 17:32

who the hell is Mark

she keeps texting him

it’s distracting me

To: ninja lady, 17:35

you know, from work

To: big wuss, 17:40

Oh, Nicholas.

-

(Across the Atlantic, in a small apartment in Paris, a married couple compares recent messages.

Ziva clicks her tongue. “I think he might be a bigger wuss than you, Tony.”

“I had better pranks than this guy, okay, at least give me that.”)

-

There’s a crowd of seamen lounging around the club. Their voices send pinpricks into his brain, and he can smell the alcohol from the second floor of this building. The bouts of laughter and shouts are interrupted by crunching. Next to him, the foul smell of artificial cheese surrounds Eleanor Bishop. Her fingers are coated with orange dust. Her eyes are laser-focused on the group of men, arms around each other, starting to sing the first bars of “Piano Man”. She licks her lips, and a bit of orange dust is left over at the edge of her mouth. She brings her fingers to her lips to lick them clean.

Nick’s mouth is suddenly dry.

Okay, okay, he needs to focus. Focus. It’ll be easy.

When he finally turns away, the hooker is grabbing one of the men by his tie, who tries to pull away. He rolls his eyes, but before Nick can say, “Playing hard to get, are we?”, the sailor is handing her a thick wad of cash. It’s exchanged for something thickly wrapped in saran plastic wrap, and he jolts out of his seat.

“It was the hooker!”

-

Nick did not know running that quickly in high heels was possible.

-

Ellie’s phone dings three times past his limit on the way to the interrogation room. The sound grates against his ears and his eyes can’t roll further up his socket. She doesn’t even notice.

They’re behind the glass, waiting for McGee to question her, when Gibbs walks in. He takes one look at the green paint on Ellie’s cheek and sees the same paint on Nick’s jeans.

Before Ellie can try to explain, Nick announces, “Gibbs, I told Ellie to call you about the hooker hours ago and she didn’t listen to me!”

“That is not true!”

“Yes, it is!”

-

“Wait, so we’re just going to give up?” Ellie’s hair is still slightly frazzled from tackling the suspect down, strands loose on her forehead and around her ears. She ran up and down four flights of stairs to catch her, but they’ve been given an order to push the case to another day with another lead. “What about Sugar Honey?”

“We can’t catch anyone higher up the food chain if she doesn’t consent to wearing a wire.”

“So sneak one on her!” The Director raises his eyebrows.

“Bishop.” She snaps around, eagerly awaiting Gibbs’s cowboy orders. “Go home. Get some sleep.”

“What? I can’t believe you’re actually agreeing with this.”

“Ellie,” Nick says, coming to her supposed rescue. There’s a flicker of hope in her eyes, and he hesitates to kill it. But he has to. He stands up, and immediately yelps and whines. Guiltily, he savors the look of concern she gives him. “Actually, could you drive me home? I think I twisted my ankle when we were chasing down Sugar Honey.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Ellie pouts. It maybe makes his stomach flutter, which is stupid, because Nick doesn’t feel things like that.

“You know me. Stoic face and all. I could get stabbed and none of you would know.”

“You know, that’s not a good thing.” She grabs his car keys from his jacket and puts his arm around her shoulders.

Bishop throws a stern look to the Director and Gibbs. Their bosses look half-confused, half-amused; Nick avoids Gibbs’s knowing look. “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She walks him to his car. He feels warm and lonely all at once, because her phone rings two more times.

Nick plops down on the passenger seat, and Ellie wrenches the car into ignition, and says with no small amount of strife, “I know you’re lying and I’m either taking you to your apartment or back to the club. Your choice.”

Um. “Hey, let’s not do anything dangerously impulsive here.”

“Me? Impulsive? What about you?”

“What? When have I ever done anything dangerous or impulsive?”

“You stole a truck and totaled it when you were chasing down a suspect last month. Gibbs was already waiting on another block to cut him off.”

“Well, at least I didn’t get hurt.”

“You had a concussion and I had to wake you up every hour that night.”

They’re already out of the Navy Yard, almost ten over the speed limit, and going in the opposite direction of his apartment.

“Okay, I’m sorry I lied about my ankle. But Bishop.” He’s not sure how to say it, so what leaves his mouth is a sound of frustration. “You can’t dismantle the mafia with just this one case. These things take time. One Sugar Honey confession was the best we could do today. And that’s okay. But we’ll catch another one tomorrow, or maybe next week, and the week after that.”

The car slows down; Ellie’s pout becomes more pronounced. The sudden U-turn makes him clutch at the dashboard and pray for his life.

“Fine,” Ellie says. “But — ”

“Tomorrow, I will help you possibly arrest a drug dealer, that will lead us to the drug supplier, that will lead us to the boss.”

She nods, hands tightly holding the steering wheel. There’s glitter in her hair and streaks of paint on her jeans. They’ve barely slept in the past two days, driving each other insane. 

“I can take the couch for a few hours and then we’ll be on our way. We both need to rest.”

Ellie doesn’t reply.

“If you don’t crash at my place, I’ll call Gibbs and tell him you’re going back to the club.”

Ellie protests for the rest of the car ride, but Nick doesn’t budge an inch.

-

The stakeout resumes peacefully. Gibbs and Vance were right: the dealers are spooked and no deals occur for the next week.

Bishop doesn’t spend every single moment on her phone, so at least there’s that. He can’t deny the twinge of longing every time he sees her eyes brighten at the sound of another text.

Still, even that is nothing compared to the ache he feels when she yawns and rubs her eyes. It’s the type of case that makes her want to prove herself, to risk everything to accomplish her ambitions, to run after something without a thought of the consequences. He knows the feeling. He has that feeling every time a kid is involved.

So he triples the bags of junk food on the floor of the moldy apartment. He lets her rest a little more when it’s his watch. She curls up in the blanket she stole from his apartment and sighs in her sleep.

They’re both exhausted, so their prank war grinds to a halt. Nick’s exasperated, and he doesn’t reply to any of Ziva’s requests for updates. Ellie’s smile is something admirably distracting and infuriating, especially when it’s not directed to him.

-

Here’s the thing, though: Nick can’t imagine when Ellie had time to go on a date with a Mark that he’s never met or heard of in the past few weeks. Before Operation Take DiGiorno’s to Prison, they had back-to-back murders that took a total of two weeks out of their lives. Before those, Nick went to pilates with her for three consecutive weekends. So whoever this Mark is, might be special to her. Someone she wants to keep to herself. Someone she wants to talk to all day, someone she wants to smile and laugh with, someone she wants to be with. It’s that simple.

It’s just not Nick.

-

The seaman in Interrogation still isn’t talking, but at least there’s something in the cocaine.

“Local PD’s been digging up everything they can about the drug ring for months, and this little sample here matches their signature packaging and purity. But I’m telling you, whoever hired their chemists needs to do a better job, cause this stuff ain’t pure at all.”

“Can we connect it to Joey or the uncle?”

“I’m so glad you asked. We, in fact, do have a way to arrest them, thanks to Kasie — ”

“Don’t talk about yourself in the third person.”

“Okay, someone’s grumpy! DiGiorno’s olive oil company bought bulk chemicals, which are being delivered to this address. We’ve got dimethyl sulfoxide, tetrahydrofuran — ”

“English, Kasie.”

“Coke. They’re making coke. Trust me, those materials are not extra virgin.”

He grunts out a thanks and swirls around, ready to leave.

“Woooaaahhh there, son.” Kasie holds her hands out in front of her to tame him. “What’s going on with you, Nicholas?”

“What? Nothing!”

“Okay. Then I guess it has nothing to do with you and your feelings.”

“What? Nothing’s up with Bishop and me!”

“I didn’t say anything about Bishop.”

“Okay,” Nick chuckles, searching for an exit route that may or may not involve rolling past Kasie in a very ninja-like manner before booking it out of the building. “You said something, I said something, now we’re both confused, and I gotta go now, bye!”

-

McGee’s hawk eyes peer at him when Bishop retreats to the break room again. It makes Nick squirm in his seat and try to pry his gaze away from her empty desk.

“Is something going on between you and Bishop?”

“Uh, no, why, did she say something?” He crosses his arms to quell the sound of his heart.

McGee scoffs. “I mean. You guys have barely talked since you came back from the stakeout.”

“Well. I don’t need to talk to her. All the time.”

“But you do.”

Nick makes a face. Bishop strolls back into the bullpen, carefree and light, and he shuts his mouth.

“What do we got?” Gibbs says, and McGee has no choice but to brush this under the rug.

-

It’s Day Ten, more accurately Night Ten, and they’re sitting in the car, driving to the warehouse where they’ll arrest Joey and his uncle. She’s wearing a vest and he has the urge to clean his gun before a shootout. But they’ll be fine.

He glances at her tied-up hair and the clench of her jaw. His hands tighten on the steering wheel, because he wants to hold her face in his hands and tangle his fingers in her hair. He wants to tell her something he can barely admit to himself.

She says nothing. The phone doesn’t ring. He keeps driving.

-

He forgets she has a vest on. He forgets everything, really, when he sees Ellie go down in the middle of the raid, and Joey starts running away. Gibbs yells at him to call an ambulance before he and McGee chase after the idiot who shot his partner.

Nick scrambles to her side, vision blurring, and he has more trouble breathing than she does when he reaches her. “Bishop, El, you’re gonna be okay, alright?”

Ellie groans as he slices her vest open. The bullet clatters off the Kevlar.

“Nick,” Ellie’s saying. “Nick, I’m fine.” His hands hover, barely brushing over her arms, neck, head — I have to check for concussion — and it does nothing to reassure him, until her hands fold into his. “Nick.”

She looks at him, mouth parted, cheeks flushed. Her ribs are probably bruised, if not broken. Her hands are the only source of stability; every other part of him is shaking.

“You’re alright.”

Ellie breathes out a heavy sigh; it shakes like his legs quiver, and he has to kneel next to her. “I’m alright.”

-

Along with the DEA, they confiscate every last bit of cocaine from the warehouse, effectively crippling the crime family’s major source of money. Joey rats on every aspect of his uncle’s business for a shorter sentence. As the EMTs are wrapping her ribs up, Nick holds his hand up for Ellie to slap and says, “We took DiGiorno’s to prison!”

He offers her his arm and a ride home. She graciously accepts, and the smile is his, again, for now.

But he can’t not say anything now. She almost — she almost. There’s nothing else to say about that.

So Nick says, “So, you’re going home to Mark today? You got a hot date?”

He’ll get over that lump in his throat, that spike in his pulse eventually. She’s alive, and he’ll be fine.

He doesn’t expect her to start laughing, only to be interrupted by a wince and a tender hand on her left side. “Nick, who do you think Mark is?”

“Uh.” There’s a dark hole of miscalculation, the feeling of falling down the cliff of Being Wrong. “Your hot new date you kept texting over the past, like, five days?”

Nick rolls his eyes. “Stop laughing, you’ll make your ribs worse.”

“It’s — ” Ellie takes a deep breath and pulls out her phone. She scrolls, and Nick’s about to say something about not wanting to read her love letters to Mark when:

Auntie Ellie, thanks for my birthday gifts! I miss you so much.

The voice can’t be older than five, with a light stammer and a lisp. Nick takes his eyes off the road to gape at a boy with two missing front teeth, and his heart both soars and sinks. Someone honks behind them, and he steps on the gas pedal, startled that he’s stopped at a green light.

“Well.”

“He turned four last week, and my brother’s been letting him call or text me videos every day. They’re stuck in Oklahoma and they miss me.” He can hear her shrug, the fabric of her jacket rustling against the car’s leather seat, but he keeps his eyes on the road. “I haven’t been home in almost two years.”

“I’m sorry.” It punctuates the silence that follows, leaving them both speechless, wondering, wishing.

“Were you jealous?” Ellie whispers.

“Yes.” He can’t stop himself. Not anymore. Nick floors the brake and looks at his passenger’s seat, red light shining on her, everything else dark and unimaginably lonely. “Yes.”

Ellie nods, then smiles. “Okay.”

-

They arrive the next morning together. McGee smirks at his phone. Kasie’s eyes switch between them, back and forth, before she raises an eyebrow and glares at Nick, threatening and protective. Gibbs says nothing. Nick smiles the whole morning, because he still tastes her lipstick on his teeth and feels her hair in his fingers.

-

To: big wuss, 10:20

Congratulations. You aren’t a bigger wuss than Tony.

To: ninja lady, 10:25

ha. thanks

for everything, i mean, i guess.

To: big wuss, 10:26

You’re very welcome, Nicholas.

fin.

[batfam-imagines]

Batsis/Batbro/Batsibling that was struck by lightning/received a high voltage of electricity and lived but they have major electric scars after. How would the batboys and Bruce react?

Title: Lightning

So sorry this took so long for me to write. I was going through some old requests and this one just spoke to me!

———————————————————————————–

It’s always raining in Gotham,but rarely is it ever a true storm. Thunder and lightning crash through thesky, lighting up the buildings, and silhouetting the vigilante’s swingingbetween them. 

Jason and Dick hit the roof oneither side of you, puddles splashing as the three of you race to the other endof the skyscraper.

The two older vigilantes stopat the edge of the roof, hunkering under one of the many gargoyles while youclimb even higher, watching the quiet city.

“Y/N! You shouldn’t be up thathigh! Not in the storm, you could slip!”

You let out a laugh, “I’m notgonna slip! I’ve been climbing these gargoyles for years!”

Jason un-clasps his helmet, hishair getting drenched in less than a minute, “Come on, birdie! You’re makingDick nervous! If you get hurt -”

No one can predict lightningstrikes, not even the best meteorologists. So no one can predict that lightningwill strike right where you’re standing, that electricity will surge throughyou’re entire body, that it’ll stop your heart.

–

Dick screams when the lightninghits Y/N, he lunges forward to catch their, now completely, limp body before itplummets to the city streets below.

“Y/N! No, no, no! Jason, callthe Cave!” Dick scrambles for the latches on Y/N’s suit until he can get hisfingers on their pulse. “No pulse, shit! Jason! Call the damn Cave! I’mstarting CPR now!”

Jason’s fingers scramble at hisear, “B! B, are you there?! B, there’s been a fucking emergency!”

“Hood, what happened? Everyonewas ordered to stay inside -”

“Yeah, yeah, I know! Listen,Y/N was struck by lightning – Dick’s … he’s doing CPR, there wasn’t a pulse. Idon’t – I don’t -” Jason raises a shaking hand to run through his hair.

“Calm down, Jason. Take a deepbreath, you know CPR, continue that until I get to you. Tim and I are trackingyour location right now. Keep calm, Jason, we’re coming. Go help Dick until weget there”

Jason splashes to his knee’s oppositeof Dick, “Switch off”

“’m fine”

“If you don’t take a break, you’llbe too exhausted to keep going later, we don’t know how long we have to keepthis up. Switch. Off”

Dick’s face twists up into asnarl, “Fine, 27-28-29-30. Switch”

Jason continues on for two morerounds, the only sounds being the boom of thunder and the huffs of breath atevery compression.

“Can I shock them with my Escrimasticks?” Dick pulls out one of his weapons, “Would shocking Y/N again do moredamage?”

“Only one way to find out.”Jason quickly shifts back, and Dick presses the Escrima stick forward. Jason reachesout and checks for a pulse before restarting CPR. “Recharge and try again”

Dick glances towards the ground,“B just pulled up, keep going Jay. One more shock and Bruce’ll be here. Onthree pull back. One, two, three” The tip of the Escrima stick makes contactwith Y/N’s chest again, more electricity pulsing through their body.

“A pulse! I felt a pulse!” Jason’seyes are wide, his fingers pressed tightly to Y/N’s carotid artery.

Dick scrambles closer, his ownfingers going to Y/N’s wrist to feel for a pulse, “I got one too! Thank God!”Y/N was even breathing on their own.

Bruce bursts through the accessdoor, “Why did you stop CPR? Quick, get Y/N on the gurney, we need to get backto the Cave -”

Jason’s fingers shake butrefuse to move from where they’re pressed to Y/N throat, “We got a pulse. We –we -”

“Good, get Y/N on the gurney.The Batmobile’s still running, Alfred’s getting the Cave ready as we speak.”

–

Everything hurts when you wake up.Your entire right side feels like it’s on fire, your chest feels like your ribshave been broken, and your shoulder feels like it’s been dislocated.

“’flred … Alfred!”

“Y/N, good heavens, you’reawake!” The old butler quickly bustles around your hospital bed, “How are youfeeling? Do you need anything?”

“W-What happened? I don’tremember … I was on Patrol with – with Dick and Jason, but I don’t – what happenedafter?” You try to push yourself higher on the bed, but your right arm doesn’twant to work. “Why can’t I …?”

“Y/N, you were struck bylightning. Your heart stopped for approximately 7-minutes on that rooftop,Master Richard and Jason were able to perform CPR and restart your heart.”Alfred gently places a hand on the side of your neck, “Unfortunately thelightning left you with some … intensive scarring, which is why you are in so muchpain”

“How long was I out?”

Jason steps into the hospitalwing, “Two weeks, you were unconscious for two weeks”

“Hey, Jay” You throw a smile atyour older brother, “Heard you and Dickie saved my life. Thanks for that”

“You little shit, do you knowhow scared I was?! You didn’t have a fucking heartbeat!! You almost fell offthat damn building and I was in too much shock to catch you! You’re lucky Dickwas there, or you’d be a damn pancake!” Jason reaches out and pulls you into agentle hug, touching your right side as little as possible.

“I know, I was reckless. I’msorry.”

“Damn right you’re reckless! Itold you not to climb so high! You didn’t listen and you got hurt!” Dickcharges is, eyes blazing. “But you’re okay and that’s all that matters! I loveyou! I don’t tell any of you that enough, but I almost lost you!”

“I’ll be more careful, promise”

Bruce walks in next, “Good,after this accident everyone needs to be more careful. Y/N, you’re benched forthe foreseeable future. You’ll need intensive physical therapy to regain fulluse of your right arm.”

“Thanks for the concern, B.”You throw him a smile, “Not like I did it on purpose”

Bruce takes a breath beforewalking closer, “I’m glad you’re alright, Y/N. You had us all scared for awhile there”

–

The first time you see the scarringleft by the lightning strike, you cry. It spiders across the right-side of yourjaw, down your neck, over your shoulder and arm, and across your chest. Thescars are angry and red, standing out starkly against your skin.

Jason’s quick to reassure youas soon as he sees tears, “They aren’t that bad! They actually look prettybadass! Aw man, don’t cry! It won’t even be that bad once it starts to fade!”

You quickly wipe the tearsaway, “Do you know how hard this’ll be to explain to the media?! Or even tohide in my mask!”

“Don’t worry about that stuff,you aren’t leaving the Manor anytime soon anyway. I’m actually surprised Damian’slet you out of his sight this long”

“He’s a good kid, Jay. He justhas a hard time showing he cares. And plus, I like his company, he’s actuallypretty smart” You slowly flex your fingers, “Come here and help me with myphysical therapy, I still can’t move my arm right”

Jason groans, but heaveshimself off the bed, “Alright, alright. You’re lucky you’re my favorite sibling”

–

Tim approaches you next, “Jasonmentioned you were worried about being recognized by your scars …”

You glance up from your bookand flash a brief smile at him, “Yeah, I was tellin’ him that it might be hardto spin to media how suddenly I have this great new accessory and one of theBats does too”

“What would you think of a masksimilar to Cassandra’s? or one that covers just your mouth, so the scar was hidden?And I mean we can just tell the media the truth, or part of it, just tell themthat we were all outside during the last storm and that you got hit”

“That’s a pretty good idea,Tim. You got some sketches to show me?” Tim holds out his tablet and you flickthrough about twenty different suit designs, “Damn, Timmy, when did you havetime for all this! These are great! How about number 15, that one only goes up overmy nose and I can keep the Domino still. I like the colors of that one too, purpleand red, hell yeah.”

Tim grins, “I was torn betweenthat one and seven. I’ll makes up the new suit so you can try it on. You know,I wish you could show off the scar, it’s pretty bad ass looking”

You smirk, “Thanks, it’sstarting to grow on me”

–

“I would like to draw your scar,Y/N, if you would let me” Damian stands in front of you holding his sketchpadand various drawing supplies.

“What?”

“The way the scar twists is fascinatingand I believe it will provide a challenge to draw on the human body. That is ifyou would let me”

You chuckle and flick the TVoff, “Alright, kid, I’ll be your model. I just have one condition”

Damian’s eyes flash inexcitement, “Name it”

“You have to show me thepicture when you’re done with it”

“Very well, if that is youronly condition I would like to start now”

You lay back on the couch andpull your t-shirt off, leaving you in a tank-top, you slide your right arm freeso the scar is completely exposed, “Draw away, Dami”

–

“Y/N … does it hurt?”

You glance over at Dick, onlyto see his eyes locked on your exposed scar, “Not anymore, not a lot anyway.Sometimes it aches, or I get like a phantom pain, but not nearly as much aswhen I first woke up in the cave”

“I – I’m sorry you have it”

“You’re sorry I have the scar?”

Dick nods mutely, his lipsturned down in a frown, “You have it because I wasn’t watching you closeenough. I let you climb on the gargoyle, if you hadn’t then you wouldn’t -”

“Stop! It wasn’t your faultwhat happened to me! I chose to be reckless in the middle of a thunderstorm.You and Jason saved my life. If it wasn’t for you, I would have fallen off thatbuilding. This scar means I’m alive, means I didn’t die. I’d rather have ahundred scars than be dead”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,Y/N”

“I know, Dick.”

———————————————————————————–

Let me know what you think! Send any ideas or requests you have to my Ask Box!

[yaboyspodcastpalace]

For the character asks: Jon, Peter Lukas, Annabelle Cane? (giving multiple suggestions so you can pick one in case you get the same character twice in different asks)

very kind of you to assume i get many asks :') THANKS ill do all of them u_u

[Send me a character and i'll tell you...]

(under the cut bc i love talking and this got long lmao)

Jon

First impression

he's a uptight prick with obvious favoritism for sasha and tim and i love him so! much!!!!!!

Impression now

my poor little mew mew hm................I've got a complicated relationship w/ jon bc i love him a lot, but i loved s1 him the most, and literally everything else just makes me really, brutally, sad ;_; The way he tries so desperately to cling to his humanity and how other characters just call him by the title imposed to him makes me wanna cry

...also he just cares so much ;_; i cry

Favorite moment

probably his interactions with georgie at the beginning of season 3!!! From s5 id say when he killed not!sasha, it felt vindictive ù_ú

Idea for a story

Dhfhdh im p basic when it comes to him ngl, either jon/tim/sasha friends to lovers or jon and desolation!tim or *something*!sasha trying to stay as human as possible, together 😔 (or just any of them living and coping together in s4 n s5)

Unpopular opinion

Im just not a fan of monster jon, at all! He's not the type of character that i enjoy seeing having a corruption arc unfortunately!! It just hurts!!! (and this Is from someone that Loves corruption arcs!!!)

Also i really hate moth jon imagery??? For not particular reason, moths are pretty, but i still hate it u_u AND THE ASSOCIATION OF GREEN W/ JON (or the beholding in general!) I CANNOT STAND IT!! i know its bc of the tma logo but guess what! Its wrong! Purple jon rights!!!

ALSO ALSO the so called pining he had for martin just.... didnt felt like that at all! i have Many feelings abt this!

Favorite relationship

either georgie in s3, or sasha!!! i love how he always praises sasha in her research in s1 and even thought he's at his driest & sharp Trying-To-Project-Professionalism-And-Skepticism she still rolls into his office, interrupts him mid statement to banter w/ him abt pronunciation n stuff and its just Normal, like that speaks volumes of how comfortable they felt around each other! they were friends gdi! the moment he realizes she died and then everytime the not!them mocks him w/ her death makes me wanna break smth q_q

im not even gonna mention tim bc even though i love their relationship It 👏 makes me👏 very 👏 sad 👏

non shippy and also staying strictly canon, i love his relationship with melanie!

Favorite headcanon

sometimes i think abt that one hc that hes really good with arcade games bc he lived near the coast and i smile bc thats cute :) also hes a trans man 💙💗🤍💗💙

Peter

First impression

Mystery evil captain man!!! Fog?? I LOVE him :)

Impression now

I STILL LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!!!!!!!! Hes an asshole and has a lovely voice and smile and hes not, hes not Dumb but also he's far from the whooooa evil lonely influence he think he is (played like a cheap fiddle). He also makes me sad in ways i cannot and wont describe, and its a shame that he died cuz he was the best part of season 4 😔 rip you beautiful bastard man i still miss you </3

Favorite moment

"It has blood on it" "thats Leitner's too :D". Also when martin was angry abt idk, breekon? Jon going into the coffin? Cant remember, but peter was like I said id protect the institute, that guys not my problem ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Idea for a story

dfgdfg i have..... a petermart story that dealt with the different flavor of loneliness they both had, half smut half genuine meta of both of them and theorization on the branching of an Entity & how their powers manifested in other people...

basically, peter thinks hes hot shit when it comes to loneliness but gets overwhelmed when martin accidentally projects his feelings abt *fic's plot stuff* on him, its fun stuff!

Unpopular opinion

people either paint him like an absolute devil or an incompetent idiot and hes neither of them! hes an asshole who loves being an asshole but far from the worst monster in the show and he tried to do a clever scheme TWICE on his life and 1. while it was established that any of the rituals wouldnt work singularly the Silence was still a pretty clever attempt if it weren't for gertrude! and 2. well... he tried to manipulate someone petty and formerly supposed to be a web avatar, again not his fault, cant call him stupid for trying dfgdfg

i Do think hes kinda pathetic in some sense considering his backstory, but more out of personal pity than anything else

Favorite relationship

Canonically speaking him and martin! The pull and push of them was The best thing about season 4! Peter being a quite dangerous avatar and martin, beautiful and scared and kinda feisty, confronting him every chance he gets, peter doing his best to manipulate him and martin letting him believe hes succeeding (even thought, he is, partly). They're fascinating characters to have side by side

Favorite headcanon

Partly canonically speaking him and mikaele salesa :) they do bets together! They're lonely sea men! What else could you possibly want?

Also non shippy i like thinking abt peter's and simon's relationship but thats entirely non canon ♡

Diversity wins! The heir of the lonely is a gay man!

Also I think as every rich household(?) the lukases had many paintings and peter as a kid saw the ones w/ sailing ships and imagined sailing far far away from his family. That and seaman aesthetic fucks, which is why he always has the same vibe going on as an adult. He does Not know half of the things he'd need to know to have a ship though but hey he's rich and thats all he needs

Annabelle

First impression

thats a horrible psychological experiment they're making there D:

Impression now

THATS STILL A HORRIBLE EXPERIMENT AND ANNABELLE DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER............. idk! she makes me sad in the same way jon (and to a degree, peter) does! to be a living puppet for the thing that traumatized you as a kid and that later kinda killed you / is the only thing keeping you alive, to be devoted to it scrambling to believe in a higher reason for all of it to happen bc to believe otherwise is............. anyway. i love her, and i feel so so sorry for her

Favorite moment

her "maybe ive never been to the beach" at the end of ehr statement (that i fully believe its bullshit but, yknow, i love that she adds that), most of her convos with martin, her "i told you this might happen" "you did, you did" with mikaele

Idea for a story

i think a lot about her having conversations w/ either mikaele (platonically) or sasha (shippy) and their different points of views and treat with her making her doubt the web a bit

Unpopular opinion

listen, listen, i know it sounds like im woobifying her i Know it but reading the scraps of her story how can i Not feel sorry for her? when the story framed her very similar to jon? the supernatural childhood encounter that gave them arachnophobia and the subsequential joining with an Entity against her will? the fact that both the story and the fans treat her like a spider woman always sat very very bad to me, and the fact that the story itself always framed her like a villain (considering All The Other Characters that get the benefit of the doubt) was extremely disappointing

Favorite relationship

her and mikaele!!!!!!! wish we could have seen more scenes of just the two of them!!!!!! *singing* he is her daaaaaad, hes her dad! boogie boogie boogie! (ok no but like... their offscreen friendship is my favorite thing of season 5 ;_;)

Favorite headcanon

Sigh i dont know...i still think she's scared of spiders which make her current existence harder but thats a sadcanon :/ umm...... i love the idea of mikaele and her cooking together from time to time! Mikaele showing her some plates he used to eat as a kid as he talks stories about his life :) and she listens and sometimes tells a story of her own! its been so long since he had a quasy normal conversation! its weird yet nice!

[velveteencurtains]

evermore first impressions!

willow - GIRL EUEJDNSKJDJEJD LOST IN YOUR CURRENT LIKE A PRICELESS WIINE!!!!! TAKE MY HAND!!! WRECK MY PLANS!!! THATS MY MAN!!!!!! girl this is so fcuking GOOD! gonna be 100% honest the 1 is a better album opening but this is so fucking good you guys. life was a willow and it bent right to your wind!!! ID COME BACK STRONGER THAN A 90’S TREND???? EVERY BAIT AND SWITCH WAS A WORK OF ART??? SHES SICK SHES REALLY SICK I SWEAR. the way she sings “that’s my man!” yes ma’am yes ma’am!!!!!! the parallel between “I knew you stepping on the last train” and then “you know my train could take you home” SHES SICK YOUR HONOR SHES SICK

champagne problems - okay we love a piano opener. i’m so conflicted on what i think this song is gonna be about. MORE TRAIN LYRICS GIRLIE. this really is this is me trying’s older, sadder sister. “our group of friends/don’t think we’ll say that word again” MA’AM??? SHE WOULD HAVE MADE SUCH A LOVELY BRIDE SUCH A SHAME SHES FUCKED IN THE HEAD??????? IM LOSIJG MY FUCKIJG MIND. taylor and joe wrote this together? we love a couple with shared mental illnesses

gold rush - jack antonoff do not let me down. GIRL THE HARMONIES AT THE VERY BEGINNING JUST GIVE ME A MINUTE. okay I can definitely see what they meant by this song being about being lost in a daydream, the juxtaposition between the chorus and the verses is AMAZING. this is just gorgeous’s older sister huh???? “ocean blue eyes/looking in mine/i feel like i might sink and drown and die” and “eyes like sinking/ships on waters/so inviting/i almost jump in”

‘tis the damn season - i can’t tell if i want this song to be christmassy or not. OH SO THIS IS JUST HOLIDATE. TAYLOR JUST WATCHED HOLIDATE AND WROTE A SONG ABOUT IT. this is a continuation of tim mcgraw, argue with the wall. NO BC TIM MCGRAW IS ABOUT LIKE A LOVE FROM HIGH SCHOOL AND THIS IS LIKE COMING HOME FROM COLLEGE AND REUNITING WITH THEM BC YOURE BOTH DEPRESSED AND LONELY

tolerate it - jesus christ i’m not emotionally ready for this. STOP THIS IS THE PRELUDE TO BETTER MAN. LIKE BETTER MAN IS AFTER SHES ALREADY LEFT BUT THIS IS BEFORE WHEN SHES STUCK AND KNOW SHE DESERVES BETTER BUT SHE JUST TAKES IT IM GONNA CRYYYYYYYYYYY. okay but i’m imagining the babe music video and that whole of like the doting housewife who gave up everything for her husband and does everything to make him happy but he just does not appreciate it at all and he doesn’t see how much his indifference hurts her. @taylorswift mv now. honestly? loved that but as a track 5 it’s pretty weak

no body, no crime - I PREDICTED THIS WAS GONNA BE MY TOP SONG ON THE ALBUM LETS SEE IF I’M RIGHT. GIRL THE SIRENS AND “HE DID IT” AS THE FIRST LINES?? THEN THE COUNTRY INSTRUMENTAL??? TAYLOR HAS FINALLY GIVEN ME A GOOD OLD FASHIONED “MURDERED MY CHEATING HUSBAND” COUNTRY SONG HELL YESSSSSSS. OH THE WIFE IS MISSING???? NOT GONE GIRLLLLLLLLL MISS TAYLOR CHANNELING AMY DUNNE HERE!!!!! OH SHUT UPPPPPP SHES A LESBIAN WITH ESTE’S SISTER AND THEY COVERED UP HIS MURDER AND NOW THEYRE GONNA LESBIAN TOGETHER MISS TAYLOR

happiness - okay miss happiness you’ve got a lot to live up to but let’s do this. NOT THE MIRRORBALL PARALLEL “i was dancing when the music stopped” and “when no one is around, my dear/you’ll find me on my tallest top toes/spinning in my highest heels, love” NOT THE IDEA OF CHANGING YOURSELF JUST TO KEEP SOMEONE BY YOUR SIDE IM GONNA SOB taylor please stop this i cant emotionally handle any of this. girl this is the prelude to tolerate it which is the prelude to better man

dorothea - okay so seven’s older sister? so dorothea and whoever this singer is were besties when they were teens and then dorothea moved away and now the singer misses her former best friend and also first love and also they’re lesbians yeah it’s gay it’s so gay. taylor i’m literally begging you from the bottom of my fucking soul please give us a music video with two girls please miss swift i ask of you this one (1) thing

coney island - see i thought this was gonna be seven’s older sister when the tracklist was announced so now idk what to expect! JESUS OKAY I KNOW IT SAYS “feat. The National” IN THE TITLE BUT I FORGOT AND I GOT SCARED BY HIS VOICE. NOT A FUCKIJG CAR ACCIDENT TAYLOR IM REALLY SORRY I RRALIZE YOU ARE YOUR OWN PERSON AND I NEED TO STOP CONNECTING YOU TO HARRY BUT REALLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY. okay anyway here’s my theory hear me out: This is dorothea’s husband who’s confused why his high school sweetheart wife doesn’t love him anymore and why she’s now hanging out with her old high school best friend again damn that’s weird they’re like really super close that’s super odd. anyway that’s just a theory I actually don’t really know what this songs about! miss swift is too smart for me

ivy - stop this song is so sweet!!!!!! i feel like this is getaway car’s sister! i need to stop doing that i know it gets annoying but really honestly it is! NO NO NO THIS IS DOROTHEA’S PERSPECTIVE WHEN SHE HAS AN AFFAIR WITH HER HS BESTIE AND HER HUSBAND STARTS TO FIND OUT GUYS IVE FIGURED IT OUTTTTTTT. WAIT WAIT WAIT THE HS BESTIE IS FROM NO BODY NO CRIME AND DOROTHEA IS ESTE’S SISTER GUYS IVE FIGURED IT THE FUCK OUT YOU GUYSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS I GOT IT

cowboy like me - let’s yee and let’s haw ladies and gents. WHOS SINGING????? WHOS SINGING WITH HER???? taylor shut up for a second lemme hear who tf this is. AM I CRAZY OR IS THIS JOE???? i’m probably dumb. but am i? why can i not at all remember what joe’s voice sounds like rn. is that joe??? im so confused. maybe i’m super dumb and it’s really obvious and i’m just fucking stupid. it’s probably not joe it’s probably some country legend that everyone else knows bc they grew up yeeing and hawing and i’m but a wee city slicker but i’m gonna hold onto this stupid theory that it’s joe singing with her until someone proves me wrong later. also this song is fucking gorgeous where’s my cowboy hat not wearing one while listening to this song makes me feel sacrelige. okay wait tay and aaron wrote this one is it aaron? i’m sorry taylor i don’t listen to the national you can hate me if you want

long story short - god the production on this slaps!!!!! and the idea of being hurt before and then finding your love and being all about them and not even caring abt what happened before!!!!! god i’m gonna cry i’m gonna cry. NO MORE KEEPING SCORE NOW I JUST KEEP YOU WARM?????? taylor really said “oh you’re not in love and i’m gonna make you feel like SHIT ABOUT IT” taylor pls a petition to let us say “BITCH” after the last line so it’s “i survived...bitch!” okay pls and thank you

marjorie - oh is this about taylor’s grandma :(((( i knew she used her name but this feels like it’s really all about her. babey. this is so sweet. taylor i love you

closure - okay the opening??? slaps! literally! okay the production of this is interesting! okay i’m like trying to figure out who this is about....who cares this is so good. oh my god the distortion??? it just underlines the anger of it all so perfectly and i love

evermore - exile hive let’s GOOOO. please be an exile pt 2 pls be an exile pt 2. so odd to me because, as a whole, this actually feels like a way more happy and optimistic album than folklore did, yet the title comes from the line “i had a feeling so peculiar/that this pain would be for/evermore”. OKAY BON IVERRRRRR. the violence of the dog days? that’s my next instagram caption thanks taylor. NOT A DUET SECTION AGAIN LIKE IN EXILE TAYLOR PLEASE I CANT HANDLE THISSSSSSS. “we always walked a very thin line” AND “is there a line that we could just go cross?” THE PARALELLELLLLRJSNDBBD. I’m gonna die for this I really think. okay so she ends it on this pain wouldn’t last evermore so that’s good

overall? this is a masterpiece. miss swift has done it again. folklore aoty 2021 and evermore aoty 2022. no body, no crime is really THAT BITCH. i need a mv miss swift! okay bye gonna go cry over this

update: after listening all night i feel like i need to point out that i’m stupid and thought este was the mistress and the singer was the wife when in fact ESTE is the wife in no body, no crime. SO addendum to my theory: este and dorothea were besties in hs then dorothea left and got married and so did este but este’s hubby cheated so then este’s friend murders him and she’s cool w it, then dorothea and her husband move back home and este and dorothea reconnect and realize their long hidden feelings for one another, dorothea leaves her husband and she and este run away together

ANOTHER UPDATE: ‘TIS THE DAMN SEASON IS FROM DOROTHEA’S POINT OF VIEW!!!!!!!! WHEN SHE COMES HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS AND SHES SINGING TO ESTE!!!!!! CJNECNSJSNNDN

[wisdom-walks-alone]

for the follower celebration! anything w damian i will die for him also congrats! ily

auri!! i love you too!! thanks for sending in, i would also die for him

Damian grunts as he hits the mat. “Watch your six,” Tim says, as if it’s any help after he’s already been knocked on his ass.

“Thanks,” Damian deadpans, pushing himself back to his feet. He steels himself, then goes in for a kick that Drake dodges all too easily. Growing frustrated, Damian lets out a sound of anguish as he goes for a punch, but Tim grabs his wrist and deflects it.

“You’re rusty,” he notes, and Damian wrenches his wrist from his grasp with a shout, immediately going in for another attack. Drake dodges yet again, side stepping and prodding Damian in the back with his wooden practice staff. “You’re distracted.”

Damian’s fists clench. “Shut up,” he growls, making a leap for Tim. Tim side steps again, and backs away as Damian turns to look at him, narrowed eyes burning with anger.

Drake tosses his staff on the ground, holding his hands up. “Alright, demon brat, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Damian bites out. “Pick up your stick and fight me, Drake.”

“Not when you’re like this.”

“Like what?” Damian snaps. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Drake walks over to the benches and grabs his water bottle, taking a swig before he sits down. “Just tell me what’s up, then we’ll spar.”

“I told you,” Damian insists, “nothing is up. Now get up and fight me, already.” He’s losing his patience.

Tim sighs, puts his water bottle down and leans his forearms on his knees. “Listen, brat, I don’t have to act like I care, but I am, so the least you could do is pretend to appreciate it.”

Damian glares at him, and he knows that Tim is not going to relent, so Damian does. He’d be lying if he said it wouldn’t feel good to talk about it. Sighing, he walks over and sits down heavily beside Drake, leaning his elbows on his knees and rubbing a hand over his face. “Today is the day Richard became Batman,” he admits. It was four years ago today.

Tim hums in acknowledgement. “I get it. You miss him.”

Damian sighs. “Yes, but today in particular is putting me in a sour mood. Usually on this day Richard would take me to the arcade, then we will get ice cream and I’ll spend the night at his place. It’s stupid, I just... I just miss it.”

“It’s not stupid,” Tim tells him, face serious. “It’s totally understandable. You’re allowed to have feelings, Damian.”

Damian frowns and turns away, unable to look at Drake.

“I miss him, too.”

They’re quiet for a moment, sitting in the relative silence of the cave, with nothing but the ambient sounds of the bats flying around.

“Do you think he’ll ever remember?” Damian asks, so quiet he’s not sure Drake will hear.

He does, though, and replies, “I don’t know.” He runs a hand over his face roughly, then adds, “I hope he does.”

They sit in silence again for a few minutes, then Drake gets up and starts walking towards the stairs. “Where are you going?” Damian demands.

Tim turns around to look at him and raises an eyebrow, nodding at the stairs in a ‘follow me’ gesture. “The arcade.”

Despite himself, and he will deny it if asked, Damian finds himself smiling.

send me a prompt and a character/ship and i’ll write a short fic!

[voiceless-terror]

Smile and Nod (The Magnus Archives)

Whumptober 2020 Day Six: “Stop, please”

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Characters: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Sasha James, Tim Stoker, Elias Bouchard, Original Character

CW: Harassment, Unwanted Advances

Summary: 

“He said to let go of him.” The voice startles them both and Jon turns to see Martin, a placid smile on his face. He is tall, so tall- was Martin always this tall?

Jon runs into trouble at the Institute’s annual donor party and has an unlikely rescuer. 

The Institute hosted a party for its most illustrious donors every spring. Jon had never been expected to go to it until his promotion to Head Archivist and even then he tried to get it out of it, to no avail.

“I’m afraid it’s part of your duties now as Head Archivist,” Elias had said. “We need to have a face for every department and I’m sure quite a few of our donors are anxious to meet Gertrude’s replacement. You understand, of course.” Jon nodded. “I trust you’ll be on your best behavior.” He hadn’t forgotten his promise to ‘be more lovely’ after the incident with Naomi Herne. 

“Yes, yes,” Jon sighed. He wasn’t looking forward to the event- sticking close to Elias’s side didn’t seem very appealing, but being left to the wolves was even worse. Elias seemed to notice his hesitation and paused, waiting for Jon to continue. Perhaps he didn’t have to go alone. It’s worth a try, isn’t it?

“W-Would it,” he began, cursing his stutter. “That is, I would like to- if you don’t mind, I think it would be valuable to have my assistants attend, as well?” He hated the uptick in his voice that made it sound more like a question. “I-I just think it would be a good experience for them to ah, meet the donors as well. Since they do a lot of the research.” Another reminder that he had no idea what he was doing; Elias hadn’t said anything about his methods in the Archives, so he only hoped that indicated a tacit agreement about the way things should be run. 

Jon watched several emotions flit across the man’s face, irritation and disappointment giving way to resignation. He tried to ignore the first two and focus on the last. “Alright,” Elias agreed with a sigh. “Please stress the formality of this event, particularly to Mr. Blackwood. You’ll be representing the Institute, and as such you will be expected to interact with our donors. See that you don’t use your assistants as a social crutch.” Damn. There goes his plan. At least I’ll have some support. 

So here he was, standing in the hallway with his assistants in an ill-fitting suit he last wore to the funeral of a distant cousin. It didn’t fit then, either. He hoped he didn’t look too much like a child in his father’s clothes, but the snickers from Tim and Sasha dashed any hope of that. They looked wonderful, of course, as they always did. Martin was in the same boat as Jon, fidgeting in a blazer and non-matching pants.

“Well boss, looks like it’s time to schmooze!” Tim clapped a hand on his shoulder and steered him through the door. Elias liked to have his parties in the main library- it was the most beautiful part of the Institute, aside from the entrance hall. The tables and desks that normally populated the center of the room had been cleared away to reveal a rather spacious area for guests to mingle and talk over the sound of a tasteful string quartet. The whole event was incredibly elegant and Jon felt like he very much did not belong.

“Ah, there he is!” He heard Elias call from the right-hand corner of the room, where he was surrounded by several well-to-do donors dressed to the nines. He gestured him over with a magnanimous hand and Jon instantly flushed. Tim squeezed his shoulder and pushed him in their general direction. “This is our new Head Archivist, Jonathan Sims. He’s been doing fine work thus far.”

After a moment Tim’s hand is replaced by Elias’s, firm and weighty on his shoulder. He’s exchanging pleasantries with people whose names he forgets almost instantly- their hands are cold and their voices distant, they talk over him as if he were a child they judged and found wanting. Elias’s hand did not move and he was anchored in place, even as they made no move to include him in their conversation.

He saw Martin give him a look of pity from the corner that he was currently occupying with Sasha and Tim. They had their hands full of hors d'oeuvres and drinks and Jon wished desperately for a glass of water, anything to keep his hands occupied. He turned to realize the  conversation had stopped and his companions were staring at him expectantly. “I’m sorry?” he hazarded, wondering if he’d been addressed.

“Our son George,” the woman over-enunciated, her tone condescending. Jon remembered vaguely that she had some connection to the Fairchilds, though her name wasn’t familiar. “-is over by the bar. I think you’ll find his company a bit more interesting, hm?” The group tittered and Jon felt shame rise in his throat as his boss’s hand tightened on his shoulder.

“Yes Jon, why don’t you introduce yourself?” Elias said genially enough, though Jon can tell he had disappointed him once again. Jon nodded, excusing himself to go to the corner to get a much-needed drink and to embarrass himself further. There was a man roughly his age fiddling around on his phone with a bored expression. He was tall and handsome but in the soft way of the rich, cruel and cherubic in equal measure. It unnerved Jon and he summoned up a smile that felt more like a grimace.

“G-George?” he asked, willing his voice to steady. The man looked up, expression unchanged as his eyes bored into Jon’s. “I’m Jonathan Sims, the new Head Archivist-”

“Parents send you over?” he smirked and Jon felt the tension in his shoulders ease just a bit. “Sorry you had to deal with them. This your first time at one of these? Median age here is usually around seventy five, give or take.” He laughed and Jon smiled, the man’s candor a bit charming even to him. 

“Y-Yes, I’m not really sure I should be here,” he admitted as George slid a drink into his hand. He took a grateful sip and closed his eyes at it’s smooth burn- this was expensive liquor and Jon was going to savor every last bit.

“That makes two of us,” the man nudged him with his elbow and Jon started to think the night might not be as bad as he thought. He glanced quickly over to the other side of the room- Tim winked and gave him a thumbs-up (which he ignored) and Martin’s face was carefully blank. Jon did not know what to make of that.

George, it seemed, was not all that bad. He listened patiently when Jon went off on a rant about book-binding, nodding and smiling at all the right parts. In return, Jon let him talk about finance for longer than was polite (and God was it boring). They’ve now had two drinks and Jon is feeling much, much looser. The smiles are genuine and unforced. He watches Elias nod in approval out of the corner of his eye and feels his chest warm with pride. Not a complete disappointment, am I?

But George is getting closer. It was fine when they were awkwardly perched on opposite ends of the bar and needed to hear one another, but this was getting too cozy for Jon’s tastes. He tries to take a casual step backwards but stumbles. George’s hand goes to his elbow to help steady him and stays there. 

“I-I think I need to-” he starts to mumble an excuse but the man is not having it.

“What do you say we get out of here?” He whispers, coming in closer. Jon’s nerves reach a fever-pitch but he does not want to show it, doesn’t want to make a scene so he keeps the smile pasted on his face. “My apartment’s not that far-”

“O-Oh, I’m f-fine, thanks,” he says, trying to dislodge the man’s arm but it is no use- he is much stronger than he looks and has at least half a foot on him. “I actually have plans-”

“With who?” George asks pityingly as Jon tries desperately to meet anyone’s eyes, even Elias’s. He tries to convey his plea without making it obvious to any other bystanders but his boss’s eyes slide right over him. He knows he saw, he knows-

“That’s why they sent you over, right?” George continues, his mouth dangerously close to Jon’s neck as he leans into whisper in his ear. “Pretty thing like you, get me to open the cheque book-”

“Good Lord no, let me go-” at this Jon scoffs, horrified as he tries to yank his arm away.

“Don’t make a scene,” the man says in a low and calming voice, though the leer on his face is clear to see. Jon feels terribly small. “You don’t want to disappoint the boss, do you?”

“Please,” he begs, all out of words. “Stop, please-”

“He said to let go of him.” The voice startles them both and Jon turns to see Martin, a placid smile on his face. He is tall, so tall- was Martin always this tall? 

“I’m sorry?” George replies with a sneer, his voice raising in both pitch and volume and Jon is sure if people weren’t looking before, they’re looking now. “I’ll thank you to stay out of this, we were just leaving-”

“No,” Martin replies in that preternaturally calm voice, still smiling. “You weren’t. Now let him go, and we can forget this all happened, hm?” He puts a hand on the arm that’s holding Jon and there’s real strength behind it. George tries to wrench his arm away but Martin’s got it in a solid grip and he barely manages a wiggle.

“Let go of me now, or I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Martin sounds bored. It is mystifying and Jon can do nothing but gape at the man. “You don’t want a scene, do you? Not in front of the family. Not again. So smile, and walk away.” There is a moment where Jon thinks they will come to blows but it passes. George manages to turn his scowl into a neutral expression, saving some dignity though he throws one last glare Jon’s way. “Not even worth it,” he mutters as he walks away. Jon leans against the bar, releasing a breath he did not realize he’d been holding.

“A-Are you alright, Jon?” Martin has a hand on his elbow but it’s okay now because it’s Martin and it feels right. His face has that same look he gets when he asks Jon whether he wants a cup of tea, or how he’s feeling or if he’s eaten that day. Worried, gentle.

“W-What was that?” is all Jon manages to get out, his voice in an embarrassingly high-pitch. Tim and Sasha are now making their way over with schooled expressions, though Jon can see the worry in their eyes. “Did you know that man? I-I mean, what the hell?” Jon realizes he’s sputtering and tries to get a handle on his swirling emotions. “N-Not that I’m not grateful, but good lord. ‘Not again?’”

Martin laughs, suddenly bashful. “I just guessed with that one, honestly. He looks like the type that’s thrown a fit or two, doesn’t he?” Tim and Sasha reach them and Martin is himself again, hunched over like he’s taking up too much space. This is the Martin that tiptoes around the archives, that’s always smiling and chattering about his day. Jon has never contemplated the man in much detail, but he is finding it hard to reconcile this new side of him. It’s not necessarily unwelcome. 

“Alright there, boss?” Tim inquires, good-natured but anxious. “Was going to come over, pretend to be your boyfriend and all but Martin said that would be ‘demeaning’ or whatever.” Tim rolls his eyes at this.

“I don’t know, Martin seemed to diffuse the situation pretty well,” Sasha eyes him curiously. “What did you say?”

“N-Nothing, really-”

“He asked him to leave,” Jon says, finding his voice and unable to take his eyes off Martin. “And he left.”

“Damn, okay,” Tim gives an appreciative whistle before knocking back the rest of his drink. “Working that Mart-o magic, I guess. This party blows, let’s hit the bars. Night’s still young!”

Sasha cheers and Martin looks at him questioningly- he surprises himself by nodding in agreement. “Yeah, let’s go.” He studiously ignores Elias breaking off from his group of sycophants and heading their way. He watches as Martin straightens himself minutely, blocking Jon with his body as Tim ushers them out the door before they can get stopped by the man. Jon knows he will get a tongue-lashing out of this but he doesn’t care right now. He feels small in Martin’s shadow but it is a safe small, like a blanket wrapped around him on a chilly night.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Martin asks as Tim and Sasha chatter ahead of them, arguing over their destination. “We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to. I can take you home.”

I can take you home.

“I’m fine,” he says though he knows the situation hasn’t quite set in yet. “I’d rather not be alone, I-I think.” Martin nods and gives him a smile. It is almost charming, and Jon returns it. He doesn’t really want another drink but he needs a distraction, any distraction.

The night is cold and Martin is close, big and safe and warm. And if Jon leans into his side when they finally agree on a bar, that’s nobody’s business but his own.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26856373

[crazyfreckledginger]

Tim Drake x Reader - “You Guys? Together?”

Being one of the top bachelorettes of Gotham wasn’t a title you would have expected to earn at all. Though, your successful career had brought you to be one of the richest in town, you were often invited to special events to raise popularity. What the batboys didn’t expect, was that your now-boyfriend turned out of be the third bird, Tim, especially since you nothing alike.

Requested by anon: “Can I have a Tim drake X reader where she’s like one of the top bachelorette and her and Tim start dating and they really don’t seem like each others type but they just are (Bonus points if she gets jealous and the batfam is like how??!!!??)”

A/N: Hope you like it! ^^

Warning: Jason being a fanboy, I’m sure Jason swears at least once in this.

“Good morning losers,” Jason entered the dining room, seeing his younger and older brother sitting quietly and eating at the table.

“Jason,” Bruce’s usual warning tone at his flattering nicknames seemed more distant than normal, too absorbed in the newspaper

“Hmm?” Dick perked up at his unusual behaviour, Tim raised a questioning eyebrow as well never seeing him so immersed in a single article.

“Thank you Alfred,” Jason’s voice was nearly ignored by the first robin.

“What’s so interesting that you don’t give Jason his usual scolding?” Grayson inquired 

“Maybe he’s finally accepted that you are all losers!” Red Hood expressed before taking a spoonful of cereal and plopping into his mouth. 

Tim glared at his stupid brother before munching on his toast. 

“This (Y/N) (L/N) is peculiar.” he admitted, folding the daily newspaper and placing it on the side of his plate before digging into his meal.

“What about her?” Tim asked, thankful that his voice didn’t waver. 

“Oh, the really hot chick, I love that woman,” Jason spoke with his mouthful.

“Shut up until you finished eating, you look like a more filthy pig than usual,” Damian entered the kitchen in black sports clothes and untied Titus’ leash.

“Feel free to restrain from any insults, masters,” Alfred sighed in defeat as he paced to the kitchen to wash up some of their dishes.

“She’s very...outspoken,” the millionaire chose his words carefully.

“Good for her,” Dick encouraged.

“What’s wrong with being outspoken?” Tim scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. 

“People don’t want to hear the truth sometimes,” He sighed.

“You’re one to talk,” Red Hood snorted, only earning himself a glare. 

“I think she’s doing things the correct way,” Damian sat down among them, knowing Alfred would scold him for being impolite even if he had breakfast before talking Titus for a walk, 

“I don’t want to but I’m agreeing with demon spawn, she doesn’t let people step on her, if she’s so famous and doing alot for the city then yes, it’s a good thing because the reporters in Gotham suck ass!” Jason groaned. 

“....tt, you’re one of her fanboys aren’t you?” Damian tutted.

“Yes, I love my fashion queen!” Tim nearly cringed at the admiration in Jason’s eyes. 

“What do you think Tim?” Dick’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the unusually quiet and stoic man.

“I haven’t paid much attention to her if I’m being honest,” the person in question answered.

“Hmm,” The eldest nodded at his opinion. His gaze lingered on him until he picked up his vibrating phone.

“I need to go,” the second to youngest stood up and made a beeline for his room.

“Welp, don’t know what he’s hiding but he’s being very obvious about it.” Jason murmured, “he got all tense when we started talking about (Y/N).” 

“I think someone has got a crush ~” Nightwing teased with a mischievous smirk on his lips.

“You’re going to try and get them together aren’t you, Grayson?” Damian grumbled.

“Why not, you saw how uncomfortable he became, and he only gets like that when he gets a crush.” a small giggle erupted from his lungs as Damian shook his head dismissively.

“What of the Gala next weekend, Master Bruce?” Alfred re-entered the dining room with more tea and coffee.

“Our job here is done Alfred, invitations have been sent out and now we’re receiving the confirmations.” Batman answered.

“You invited (Y/N) right??” Dick nearly lept out of his seat. 

“What do you plan on doing?” 

*****

“You seriously need a life, Dick,” Jason sighed as he leaned against the wall, watching the numerous guests being welcomed inside by the Bat. 

“What? It’s a great idea, do you see her anywhere?” Nightwing scanned the room.

“No, she hasn’t arrived yet.” he answered.

“For someone who is so annoying about the topic, you seem to be keeping a close eye out for her,” Damian grumbled.

“What, she’s my idol!” his eyes were practically sparkling.

“You’re a grown ass man Jason hitting on a single famous girl that is at least 4 years younger than you.” The youngest robin scoffed. 

“Listen, if you even followed anything she does you would see how much of an inspiration she is.” he sighed happily.

“You would think you would take notes and do something constructive with your life,” the bloodson whispered. Jason glared at him, preparing to express a sarcastic retort before Bruce walked up to three of his sons.

“Jason,” his warning tone came back and the man in question turned to him.

“She’s a nice girl.” was all he stated.

“Oh my god, she’s here?” Todd squeaked.

“Yes, we talked for a little bit, it was quite refreshing hearing of such inspirational actions from our youth,” Bruce expressed pleased.

“God, you’re old,” Jason muttered. 

“Where is Tim?” Dick raised an eyebrow, wanting to put his plan into action as quickly as possible.

“Haven’t seen him,” Batman spoke.

“Oh no, let’s hope they aren’t becoming interested in other people, come on!!” 

*****

His arm snaked tightly around her waist, securing her tightly against his chest.

“Mmh,” his lips trailed down her neck to her exposed shoulder, “Timmy,” 

“You’re beautiful in that dress,” he murmured, capturing her lips in another sweet kiss.

“I missed you too,” her hands rested against the back of his neck as she offered him a shy smile. 

“You talked to my father, didn’t you?” he sighed in realisation, placing his forehead on her shoulder.

“I did, but he was nice,” she reassured, cupping his cheeks so he would look at her. 

“It’s only a matter of time before you meet my brothers.” Tim warned. 

“I’m sure they’re as nice as your father,” a cute chuckle escaped her lips before she pecked his.

“I love you Timmy,” her forehead pressed against his as his thumbs rubbed circles on her hips.

“I love you too,” he smiled softly.

“WOAH WHAT THE HELL AM I WITNESSING RIGHT NOW!?” a voice echoed in the empty room.

The couple nearly jumped out of their skin but only jumped away from each other as two grown men, a familiar father figure and a teenager stood in the doorway, some offering them surprised looks.

“O-oh, Mr Wayne, h-hi,” (Y/N) blushed in embarrassment, too caught off guard to know how to deal with it.

“B-but you got all tense and shy when we talked about her and you guys were actually together?” The eldest’s voice hitched as he got to the end of his question.

“W-what?” the girl frowned in confusion.

“Let me explain,” Tim sighed.

Here we go!

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