#doesn’t think to just take out the baddies and returns to them with a full floor plan and locatikn of all the baddies and drugs

[shower-phantom-ideas]

Danny is just a kid ya know? Like he is just a little guy. A baby really. 14? Tiny child! Look at him, he needs to be protected. Someone has to help this poor little dude. I mean he forgets to use his own powers to avoid attacks all the time.

Anyway cut to Batfam not knowing all of Dannys power set cause the lil dingus keeps forgetting he can do that stuff in the heat of battle.

Danny uses his invisibility all the time… to avoid being followed. But in a fight? Oopsies hes too busy thinking of funny one liners to realise he could do that.

Intangibility? Give the guy a break. I mean who calls themselves condiment king. Even he was stunned.

He so rarely actually uses his biggest advantage powers that the League doubt he actually has them. He, like any naive child, trusts them and reported fully on his power set. Instead of just asking him to demonstrate his powers they instead start watching him and try to find evidence of his powers.

At least they know duplication was true since they watched him make a copy of himself to go to the bathroom and not miss any of his fav tv show.

[kithtaehyung]

seven days (m) (teaser) | jjk

POSTED HERE JULY 22ND, 2023!!  upcoming series: seven days (m)  pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x reader(f) genre/rating: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; roommates to lovers au  summary: you dump yet another guy that wasn’t up to your “ten day standards,” which leaves your cocky ass, very off-limits roommate to tease your single status yet again. but the teasing is always expected. what’s not expected, is the bet that you make without thinking. the bet that even though you give ten days, he wouldn’t even last seven. warnings: cursing, alcohol/vape mentions, parties, he wears glasses sometimes😔👍, chains bc it’s tradition atp lmaooo, cocky!jk, feelings🤕, big big big jk, flirty!jk, baddie!reader😌, multiple explicit scenes🫠, jk constantly in grey sweatpants and nothing else :))), full lists to be revealed each chapter! notes: …so this song called seven dropped and— notes 2: but really there was a fic that had been in the wips for a minute, and i just so happened to have a burst of energy to expand on it so here we are! making it a series to allow myself time to dedicate meaningful energy to each scene and not rush them💕 est. chapters: prologue | mon | tue | wed | thurs | fri | sat | sun | seven days est. running dates: july-september 2023 taglist: sign up here (i check every entry so read the rules!) teaser: below the cut if you want a taste 🩵

—

—

“Sure did,” Jungkook puffs before stepping away, taking all the tight space with him and letting you breathe again. “But all I’m saying is, you gotta lower your standards or—” 

“No.”

“Or,” he continues, giving you a look, “Not complain if they’re too high.” 

“Well, thank you.” With your nose grazing the sky, you point out, “I’d like to think they’re just right.” 

“What even are they anyway? All you’ve said is something about ten days.”

“That’s basically it,” you murmur, resting your arms on the island as to not have your chest in full view. “If I still like someone after ten days, I know I’d be fine dating them for real.” 

There’s silence when you finish. When you finally look, the gawk you’re getting in return almost makes you laugh. “What?”

“You mean those days are only a trial run?” 

You do break into laughter this time, burying your face in slight shyness. “And what about it!” 

“Are you serious—?” Jungkook rounds the island so that he can speak directly at your hidden features. “Has anyone even gotten past all ten with you?”

You pause, breath fanning the granite top beneath you and wisping around your face. When you lift your gaze above your arms, you keep it trained on the countertop instead of his curiosity, 

“No.” 

He doesn’t say a word. 

“Not since my standards changed.” 

And you think that’s the end of this conversation. Because what else is there to say? You know your expectations are impossible but you think this is a hell of a lot better than—

“I could do it.” 

“What.” A glare is shot. “Absolutely not.” 

“Why not?”

“You? No.” You shake your head. “You wouldn’t even last seven.” 

“Try me,” he challenges, and you still can’t take him seriously despite the fire in his eyes. “I’ve lasted a lot more than that as your roommate, right?” 

“But that’s—this is—this is different! Be for real, Kook.” You vacate the island and head to your room, having enough of his teasing for one morning. 

But you get stopped at the doorway, a bare chest and chains blocking your vision and sending your mind into a frenzy. When you flick your gaze to his face, he simply says, with the straightest expression,

“I am.”

--

--

--

tbc. :))

🦋 soooo how do we feel !! | wanna be tagged? 🩵

a/n: yeah idk what happened to me. one moment i was saying i wasn't gonna get bitten by the seven bug, and the next.. well. this happened lol. anyway! taglist is on a form so that i can easily keep track of who to tag. pls make sure to either tell me ur age in the survey or to have it on your blog bc i check all entries when tagging. prologue is already written and will be up soon! ++ ⇥ masterlist

[anxiousnerdwritings]

okay but Bruce’s sibling seeing the Jason is falling apart during the Titans show and being able to intervene before the Joker kills Jason Todd in the very last minute when (s)he realized that Bruce wasn’t doing shit to protect his kid and just not letting him go back? when Bruce asks about Jason returning to the manor after being released from the hospital, the sibling!Reader is like “nah, he’s staying with me” and Bruce tries to argue but the baddie is already walking out the door. for a moment Jason can only stare in awe before he shrugs and skips after his new mama. and Jason still becomes Red Hood but a more tamer version under the Reader’s influence. poor Dick wants to rip his hair out when he discovers that she probably would’ve adopted him too if he had asked.

I could totally see Bruce’s sibling!Reader having taken on more of a motherly/fatherly role to Dick and Jason than Bruce would when he took them in. If the Reader wasn’t there when Bruce first brought home Dick then they sure as hell rushed their ass to get there as quick as possible to help Bruce raise him. Then they ended up staying around for Jason too (and eventually the other kids to come). So they’ve been more of a prominent parent in their life than Bruce really was.

When the Reader first ever found out about either Dick or Jason taking part in fighting crime they were completely against it and it caused quite a riff between the two siblings. The Reader literally didn’t talk to Bruce for six months, not a single peep, even though they lived in the manor together and saw each other every day. It took the boys going to the Reader and telling them that they wanted to do this and that it was their choice to become Bruce’s sidekick. The whole thing still infuriates the Reader but they do ever so slowly start talking to Bruce again. The boys both know that the Reader wouldn’t ever come to accept them having any part in becoming a vigilante but at least this kinda smoothed things over between them and Bruce.

But the Reader would finally be forced to put their foot down now that Jason was in the hospital and he was going downhill. The Reader was always much more conscious and hyper aware of Dick and Jason’s mental and emotional health while living with them and Bruce than their brother really was. They knew being a vigilante would be taxing for them in more ways then one and then having Bruce be tough on them too had it’s affect as well. The Reader was always there for the boys though no matter what but they especially made it their purpose to be an anchor for both Dick and Jason. To always be their consistent form of love and warmth after everything. Whether it was a bad day at school or a rough patrol, the Reader was always their for them no matter how late or early the boys were in need of some reassurance and comforting.

So of course the Reader picked up on Jason spiraling and they weren’t going to allow him to be put in yet another environment that would only make him worse. They would take him with them and Bruce wouldn’t be able to stop them. They’re priority was making sure that Jason was safe and taken care of more than anything else but there could be a compromise made for Jason to continue crime fighting if that’s what Jason wanted. And he’s got no hangups about being taken in by the Reader whatsoever, honestly he’s ecstatic for it.

Meanwhile, Dick is beating himself up for never even thinking of the Reader adopting him themself. He is over filled with envy that Jason gets to be taken in by the Reader. Dick may even hit the Reader up and ask if it’s too late to be adopted by them now. But Dick would visit the Reader’s place a whole lot more now that they’ve taken in Jason, for a few reasons. He definitely wants to remind them that Dick is still around and that he still needs them too, he doesn’t want the focus to be completely taken off of him. He obviously doesn’t want to be forgotten by them now that they have their hands full with Jason. But he would also try to be more of a stable figure in Jason’s life too, sure a part of the reason is to look good in the eyes of the Reader but also to keep an eye on Jason too. No doubt that the Reader themself would ask Dick to keep an eye out for Jason too while out on patrol every now and again, just for added measure that he would be okay when he goes back to crime fighting.

The Reader would totally put Bruce in his place and it wouldn’t matter whether the Reader was his oldest or youngest sibling, Bruce will hang his head low in shame and take the scolding sent his way. He knows the Reader is right and that Jason may just need a change in environment and someone else around to get better but still it makes him feel like shit that he failed Jason as much as he did. He’ll try to make up for it though, both with Jason and his sibling. Bruce would want to eventually get back into his sibling’s good graces after all.

[dirtysenner]

But yeah this was the guy I made for my psych class and basically his deal is that (to make a long story very short) he worked for company, finds out his research is being used for weapons of war that violated several Geneva conventions so he quits but since he was under contract he gets sued into oblivion and whoops now he’s broke and just his luck, he gets diagnosed with lung cancer so he’s flat broke and dying and is in both college debt and debt from the lawsuit so he built this suit thingy that he uses to fuck over the company that he left and steal from it so he can continue having the ability to live in some dank apartment and buy food and pay off the monthly cost of the insane amounts of debt he’s in, with little to none left over cuz whoop-dee-do, healthcare still isn’t free seventy years into the future. The suit makes him stronger and allows him to inflict simulated agony upon anyone he touches with the nodes on his gauntlets. Both a benefit and a drawback of this is that he doesn’t feel pain while wearing the armor. His name is Dr. Silas Barker and he’s also half-puerto rican.

And then there’s this fucker. Kalvin Kepler. Superhero rich boy who has a sort of Batman story, minus the murder of his parents. I haven’t come up with a hero alias yet but yeah neither Kalvin nor Silas have their names public. His suit uses some fancy future ferromagnetic tech to let him do things like walk on walls and propel himself off of and onto magnetic materials. Silas and Kalvin were initially enemies since Silas was breaking into buildings owned by HeriTech (the aforementioned company) and breaking things like servers and lab work as well as stealing confidential company and government files to sell for money. But again, long story short both Silas and Kalvin get captured by a big baddie villain (who I have yet to figure out) who’s more concerned with Silas since the tech he uses is rather impressive but Silas doesn’t want to work with the guy since Silas doesn’t kill people or like people using his work to kill people. When they���re both tied up an shit, Silas and Kalvin chat a bit cuz boredom and Silas sheds light on his reasons for doing what he does and since the lawsuit filed against him became very publicized, Kalvin figured out who Silas was, Silas was not able to deduce who Kalvin was. Kalvin also finds that “oh shit this guy is completely reasonable and sane I actually agree with a lot of what he does” so yeah after they bust out they go their separate ways but then letters without a return address full of cash start showing up at Silas’ apartment, lots of it. Conveniently it’s enough to cover the medical bills and then some. Curious. Silas knows full well who’s sending them. Kalvin and Silas become sorta “you’re my archenemies but you’re also kinda cool and I’d fight you any day of the week and also like I’d never want anyone else to hurt you but still you’re my enemy but we’ve made truces before but the public thinks we’re bitter enemies but maybe we don’t fight sometimes but we never see each other outside of fighting”

And also haha Ty @mackachu1212 for taking interest!

[halfmoonshines]

could you do a fic that takes place after the last episode where the reader has been dating marc for awhile (and has been getting used to steven recently) and she knows that they leave (when jake is fronting) but she doesn’t know why? so then she confronts them about it and they’re like wtf

idk if that’s too vague or too specific but you write for steven and marc so well

I have been super blocked so your requests are uber appreciated <3 Let me know how you liked it! Layla is ex wife in this (and most fics I write) but I still think that she's a baddie!!

Steven Grant x F!Reader x Marc Spector

summary; you think that you've finally reached a calm stasis with your boyfriend and his alter Steven, but why do they leave in the middle of the night sometimes? Or exit the apartment without a word to you?

Discoveries

Marc thought that he had won the lottery. Ammit was defeated, while still being able to hold onto some semblance of autonomy, and Khonshu had readily released both him and Steven - making them free men.

To top it all off; you had stayed. After he was in Egypt for weeks with no contact, right after you briefly found Steven in London - you had stuck around for an explanation and decided to stay.

Marc didn't think he would ever feel this at peace with his life, and he enjoyed the budding connection that you and Steven were nursing.

He tried to avoid the occasional blackouts, not ready for anything to disturb this brief peace. He wanted to focus on you, and hopefully the next stage of his life.

You felt about the same that Marc did - lucky beyond belief that you had been reunited and excited for the time you could spend together now. Steven was slowly taking his own piece of your heart, though you were cautious at first. You ended up bonding over your love of history and it was full blast from there.

Everything was perfect, until it wasn't.

It started with the first night you woke up to an empty bed. A glance at the clock told you it was 03:00am and an outstretched arm confirmed that his side of the bed was chillingly cold. You gave the apartment a quick inspection and crawled back into bed when you didn't find him. You trusted Marc and Steven, thought that the time for secrets was far behind you, so you didn't want to overreact.

It happened again about three nights later and you resolved to mention it. You didn't think you were being paranoid and you definitely deserved an explanation. It was 05:00 when you noticed you were alone this time, so you stayed up. Curled up with a book on the front sofa and waited for your boyfriend to return home.

He pushed into the apartment about an hour later, jacket zipped tightly. He didn't notice you at first so you decided to announce yourself.

"Everything okay, Marc?" You hazarded a guess that it was your boyfriend specifically from his more stoic posture.

His eyes turned to you, something different about them as he looked you over before he replied. "Of course. Why are you waiting up for me? I'm a big boy."

You blinked a bit, indignation cutting at your stomach. "I'm aware that you're a big boy, maybe I was worried when my boyfriend turns up missing two nights in one week?"

Marc looked like he was going to say something but just shrugged instead, throwing his jacket on the chair next to you. "Whatever you say, Y/N." He was flippant in his attitude toward you and had simply stalked into the bedroom after that, not another word offered.

You sat astonished for a moment at the utter uncaring tone he had given you. Deciding you most certainly weren't going to sit and take it, you donned your own jacket and slipped out of the apartment - opting to go and get yourself some coffee and go for a walk to think over his brash attitude.

Of course you don't mean to control him, but you deserve an explanation? Right?

About two hours later your phone chimed with an incoming call from Marc's but you quickly declined the call. Two hours after his attitude and you leaving, he decides to see if things are okay? He can wait.

When you finally got back to the apartment an hour after that, you were greeted with who you thought to be Steven pacing around the living room. His eyes found yours as soon as you stepped through the door.

"Y/N." Definitely Steven. He walked toward you, putting his hands on your shoulders before continuing. "Are you alright? Are you injured?"

You just looked at him for a moment, eyes narrowed before Marc slipped into place.

"What's wrong? Where were you?" Marc's voice was gruff as he demanded answers, and somewhere at the back of your mind you noted he sounded different than he had this morning.

"You think you can sneak out on me, treat me like you did this morning but still expect answers from me?"

Marc looked wildly confused, eyebrows pulling together. "What are you talking about, baby?"

You scoffed, pushing his hands off of you and making your way into the kitchen. "Two nights this week I've woken up alone. You've forgotten our confrontation this morning? Are you on some sort of drug?"

"I don't remember that." Marc said, almost like he was muttering to himself. "Steven?"

"I have definitely not been moonlighting, that's more your thing." Steven's reply was instantaneous.

You crossed your arms, watching their small conversation. "So, what? Is there a third person running the show? He sure sounded a lot like you, Marc."

Marc ran a shaking hand through his hair, eyes darting back and forth while his mind worked overtime. "I need you to tell me everything. Every time you think we've acted out of character."

[forpiratereasons]

Omg I know you get asked this all the time but... do you have any more fic recs? I've gone through all the ones you've mentioned before & now am hungry for more!

i do have some more recs!!

Red Sky, by Bazzle: When Stede finally returns to the Revenge, Ed won’t hear his apologies. It takes a deadly storm to bring down his walls and bring them back together. The language in this fic had me holding my breath.

Trade Descriptions Act, by ElapsedSpiral: Ed finds Stede Bonnet's Filofax and tries being Stede Bonnet on for size. It's going okay until he meets the real Stede Bonnet. SO funny. It's so funny.

Baddy Zaddy, also by ElapsedSpiral (wip): Ed is a retired porn star with a Soho sex shop, Stede is an "ally" of the LGBT community, they meet on a sex call gone to the wrong number. Just read everything by this author.

Clarity, by katonline: After an accident upends Stede and Ed's fragile new relationship, Ed fights to bring Stede back. I'm a slut for a temporary amnesia trope, what can I say.

No Fixed Ropes, by lyricl: Stede Bonnet drove his raggedy band of muppets around Yosemite in a fully customized Chevy van with a goddamn record player in it. Izzy couldn’t fucking stand it.1970s Yosemite climbing AU. Lyricl has my heart for this premise alone but it's also dead well-written.

Buttercup, by mia_ugly: The thing is, when you’re Blackbeard you’ve got kind of a reputation to uphold. When you captain a ship, when you lead a crew, when people look up to you, tell stories, build a legend – parts of that legend are always more accurate than others. I might've recced this before but it rewired my brain so have it again.

Under the Weather, by silverwhisk: Illness sweeps through the crew of the Revenge. Stede introduces Ed to his favorite self-care home remedies for dealing with the all of the coughing, sneezing, fevers, and body aches that comes along with a cold. I love a good sickfic, I love a good sickfic, I love a good sickfic!!

Maketh the Man, by Fyre: “He doesn’t know you,” Izzy said. “Doesn’t know how you operate. Doesn’t know what makes you tick.” Mostly because the man was a fucking lunatic. “He wouldn’t see you coming.” He grimaced as he said it. “And you’re the only one who might be mad enough to pull it off.” A dramatic rescue attempt and a dramatic dress. Chef's kiss.

Clean Slated State, by justkeeptrekkin: Stede is ready to 'get back out there' after his divorce, but he's more than a little bit intimidated by the concept of online dating. After a series of truly terrible first dates, he's close to giving up on love altogether. I think I also recced this one before but I've reread it since then so on the list it goes.

Bones Adrift, by Skrifores (wip): The Revenge spots a drifting, seemingly abandoned ship. Is it haunted, overrun by demons, or full of vampire-mermaids? Listen, this fic had me at horror and sold me at ghost story. I'm all in.

i'm always taking recs myself also!! i have a marked for later list a mile long but send me your recs and i will add them in!!

[kitsunefyuu]

Since someone ‘kindly’ asked how Villain’s Winning can be made (thinking they all die) into a sequel manga I decided to write one out. Because I do love a challenge this is also running under the premise of Dad for One. Note it’s dark and people die because the Villains ‘win’ but there is HOPE.

   The criteria for the Villain’s winning is taking out the heroes, this does not mean they have to kill every hero mind you. Just the big ones like Endeavor, Hawk’s Jeanist, and any that get in their way are a target.

   Anyone that stands up? Murder them, so yeah people aren’t wrong a LOT of people would die. But Nezu smart if he realizes it is going side ways he would likely force the kids to get out because they are the FUTURE. Many other adults realizing if AFO becomes fully restored or Tomura can’t be de-quirked any longer many will die.

   They try to abort because they lost control. Now here where I do a surprise kicker, AFO getting pissed.

   Dabi wakes up and blast anyone near here with a intense heat that nearly turns everything to cinder. As if had just gotten a second wind the ice Shoto used seeming to have helped give him ‘years’ in his life. Almost revitalized and he REFUSES to lose, he doesn’t give a ‘fuck’ about happy ending he already lost that years ago when started murdering people.

   Himiko can’t let go of her anger and pain of rejection from both of the people she likes and uses Twice’s quirk to overwhelm Ochaco and her team. There’s too many and she can transform into anything she wants.

   Spinner breaks out Kurogiri, now they have their best man to warp them- And of course they reorganize their people because Kurogiri is completely on their side. Not Oboro anymore.

    THAT is when they realized they lost, as Izuku was meant to be their ace everyone had been paired up thinking it’s their best match. But the villains refuse, they have NOTHING to lose so they will give up everything to win. Izuku isn’t where he is supposed to be.

   Nezu makes the call, telling the adult heroes to get the kid out of there as AFO is at full power and they didn’t plan for this. Many are pissed, angry, some are quick to scramble or fleeing when Tarturus biggest baddies start decimating them.

   Then they get news from a crying Jirou that Endeavor and Hawk’s just got killed. They tried so damn hard, they even cracked the man’s helmet but he went in for the kill. Hawk’s and Endeavor risked themselves to keep them alive. All for one didn’t even bat an eye at them the moment those two died and fled because he doesn’t have time for them. Darting off toward where Tomura should be.

   That is the story of how the heroes lost and hope died....

   It’s a chaotic mess but most of the kids do escape with the help of some adults. Shoto barely survived his brothers attempted murder, but when hears the announcement from his head piece of Hawk and Endeavors death. He just laughs Maniacally, whether it joy or at the absurdity as he wasn’t the cause of it no one knows. He just tries to leave because what’s the point in killing his brother if the one he truly hated isn’t around to see it.

   Shoto can’t even move.

   Ochaco and Asui were made to evacuate the moment Himiko used twice quirk as it just seemed endless. They can’t HANDLE that many of them! Yet are mortified at how many people died because of this. Ochaco tried to reason, to talk, but Himiko didn’t want to talk she wanted them dead. Still thinking of the parents who never loved her. Yet she doesn’t pursue them when they go over the ocean to escape... Maybe a part of her still wished they could have been friends.

   Either way, many of the class 1-A and most youth involved escape now the final piece... Izuku never did get to reach Tomura as All Might in his headpiece tries to talk to him. To tell him to return to base as it gone down hill- Then there’s an explosion and Izuku stops his running. That horrifying dead dread in his chest as hears someone picking up the mic.

   “Are we done playing heroes and villain? I’m getting quite tired of these games,” an ominous voice emerges. All for One had used Kurogiri to warp him, the mist always able to move as he pleases and Spinner had been a great help. “And you All Might, I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

   And All Izuku can do is scream at him to stop, to not hurt him- Only to hear a scream and silence.

   “I’m sorry did you think you were in a hero’s manga, Izuku? I did warn you, you walk a thorny path and I’m tired of holding back. I’ll pick you up soon,” then there’s a click as the weight of what happened sits in and Izuku screams.

[spencersawkward]

hi! today is my birthday (yeah, a day before his) and as a big fan of yours that i am, i know that you made a one-shot for his birthday, but could you do it like it would be if it was your first birthday with him? i reeeally appreciate and love your work! keep doing this, you're amazing! thank you!!

ok the daddy kink gotta go on pause bc we have an EMERGENCY called it's a baddie's birthday! 🥳 happy birthday babe i hope it's as special and lovely as can be! also thank you that made my day of course i'd be happy to write a one-shot like that :)

summary: reader reunites with Matthew for her birthday after his absence on a week-long trip. 

relationship: Fem!Reader/Matthew

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, fingering, oral (female receiving), dirty talk.

word count: 3.8k 

masterlist

after lighting my favorite candles on the bedside table and smoothing out the wrinkles on the bed, I climb onto the mattress and fold my legs up beneath me, criss-cross applesauce. there's a warm, peachy light that falls onto the white comforter, aureate and gentle when I straighten my spine.

I have spent my birthday so far dealing with tired limbs and people I don't like; the only good part so far was getting lunch with a couple of my friends, but something still feels absent.

that something is Matthew.

he's been in Los Angeles for a week, and I miss him like crazy. the apartment is cold and hollow without him in it, despite the numerous objects of his that decorate every nook and cranny. a star and moon mobile hangs above our bed, which sounds childish but actually is fun for both of us to look at when we're lying together at night.

our eyes always follow as the crescent and circle shapes cross each other in a slow circle while we talk. and every time he's gone, his side of the bed gets cold. I miss his mouth and the shape of his arms when they enfold me. I've never been much for showing affection, but I would cover him in kisses if we had all day together.

absence makes the heart grow fonder, I guess.

he's coming home tonight and I've been looking forward to it for days now. even our kitten, Clarisse, lifts her head every time someone in the hallway of the building passes. she likes to sit between us whenever she can.

I let my thoughts roam freely as I take deep breaths and center my mind. it's hard to reign in the joy I feel at the memory of him. I haven't had an orgasm since he left, not because I haven't had the motivation, but because Matthew has created a new rule.

neither of us can pleasure ourselves until we see each other again. technically, I suppose we could break the rule and there would be no ramifications-- but it's kinda fun, to be honest. every night he calls me, and every night he tiptoes around the things he wants to do when he gets home. he can always hear the shortness of my breath when he says anything erring on risqué, asking what I'm wearing or if I've been thinking of him. of course I've been thinking of him; my nights swell with apparitions of his touch, moving over my skin without any tangible reality.

it usually ends with him tsking and telling me to be patient while I dig my fingernails into the inside of my thighs, resisting every urge within me to get off to the sound of his voice. he does it so well, too. all deep and desirous when he tells me to be good.

even as I sit here on the bed, a tingling feeling starts in my stomach. I want him too badly, and waiting has been absolute torture. I remember two nights ago, when I was sitting in his favorite armchair with my knees tucked into my chest, speaking softly to him.

"what have you been up to?"

"nothing out of the ordinary: filming, drawing... thinking of you." he had said, the last three words igniting a flame in my stomach. I love to hear him say that.

"anything in particular?" I started to trace absent-mindedly over the skin of my calves.

"thinking about how good you'd look with your hands between your legs." his voice was somehow silky and raspy all at once, like the idea of it was arousing him. I bit my lip and squeezed my thighs together.

"stop tempting me."

"why?"

"you know damn well why." I giggled. he sighed on the other end of the line.

"I'm starting to hate this rule."

"you made it!" I argued, practically able to hear the mischievous little smile on his face.

"I know, but I wanna hear your noises."

"Matthew..." I blushed, even though he wasn't right in front of me.

"I can't wait to hear you scream that." the drop in his tone made goosebumps rise over my skin.

"are you hard right now?"

"maybe." he hesitated. I felt every cell in my body begging me to cheat our rule-- maybe bend it slightly-- but I hold true.

"get home, then, and I'll suck the soul out of you." I laughed a bit and heard him move in his seat.

"stop teasing."

"you're one to talk," I glanced out the window at the city glittering, full of so many people and empty of him. "I should go before we fuck this up for ourselves."

"no..." he whined like a needy puppy for a moment. "just talk to me normally."  

"fine," I pretended to be disappointed. I didn't want to hang up, anyway. "do you wanna hear about my coworkers? that's guaranteed to eradicate all sexual thoughts."

...

he texts me half an hour later, as I blow out the wicks of my candles and watch the rest of the sun disappear. I love nighttime. he's on his way and I get butterflies, despite the fact that I already know what's coming.

instead of waiting giddily with Clarisse, I elect to take a hot shower and wash the day from my bones. I feel more at ease now that I've had some time to sit with my thoughts, although they've made me even more sexually frustrated.

it's only when I'm drying my hair and sitting in my new lingerie slip dress that relief walks through the door in the form of Matthew and a pizza from our favorite neighborhood place. I hear him come in, practically leap up and run into the living room.

"hi!" he greets, standing in the entryway with his suitcase and a scarf thrown casually around his neck. he shuts the door just in time for me to get to him.

"hi hi hi!" I attach myself like a parasite, wrapping my arms around his waist and holding him tightly.  

"happy birthday, my sweet girl," he kisses the top of my head and lets out a chuckle at my affection. "can I set my stuff down, quick?" Clarisse brushes against his leg.

reluctantly, I disentangle myself and take the pizza box from his hands and carry it into the kitchen. he makes a high-pitched whistle noise as I walk away, bending over to greet our cat.

"liking the view." he jokes. I set down the box and return to him, removing his scarf and coat with something of an impatience.

"shut up," I laugh. he starts to kiss my cheekbone, smiles against my skin while I peel off the winter layers. he's got too many clothes on. "you didn't need to pick up a pizza."

"it's your special day-- I wanted to get you the finest cuisine in Manhattan." he replies sincerely. I bite back a grin and stare up at him, completely and utterly in love with his stupid turns of phrase.

"it's gonna get cold, though."

"why?" he frowns. I answer by pulling him in for a voracious kiss, cupping his face in my hands. after a moment of us pressing our torsos together, he grabs the backs of my thighs and I jump, letting him hold me up. one of his hands rests beneath my butt, squeezing the flesh while we embrace.

"you're gonna drop me if we don't get to the bedroom soon." I giggle into his mouth. he playfully smacks my ass and carries me into our favorite place, slamming the door shut with his foot and setting me down on the mattress. I smile at his perfect features, wanting to both tear into him and preserve this moment in time forever.

he climbs onto the bed, pushes my legs apart and runs his hands along the outside of my thighs to hitch up my slip. I raise my eyebrows but don't argue when he gathers the dress up around my waist and yanks my panties down.

"I've been thinking about your pussy all day." he kisses the skin above my knee, moving much too slowly up my legs while he holds them open. I feel my hips leave the bed in eagerness, and he glances at my core hungrily. "you're dripping, baby."

"don't make me wait any more." I roll my eyes and he places the flat of his hand over my center, barely stimulating me while pushing me down. he knows the effect it has from the tortured whine I release.

"the best things come with time." he winks and continues his open-mouthed kisses along my inner thighs. his head is between my legs, but not nearly in the way I'd like it to be. I crave more; he knows it. he licks over a spot near my pussy and I moan.

"sensitive, huh?" he raises an eyebrow. I run my fingers through those unruly curls, tug.

"don't act as if you aren't just as turned on right now."  

"delayed gratification is a skill, darling." he's smirking and it's driving me wild looking at him in this position, not doing anything. he peeks at my body again before meeting my eyes. "you're dragging this out by talking, by the way."

"oh my god." I throw my head back into the pillow, but go silent as he starts to resume his movements. finally, slowly, he licks up my entrance, pausing at my crest to flick his tongue. I gasp and look at him, his focus all on my face.

he rolls his mouth expertly over me, dipping between my folds to taste and releasing a greedy moan before starting to lap and play with it like he can't stop himself anymore. this time, when I grip his hair, I use it as leverage to grind against him. he feels so good, the sounds coming from my lips are truly unhinged.

"oh, shit, shit-- just like that." I choke out. every part of me clings to him. he wraps his hands around my thighs and yanks me down the bed so he can do more with me. every action with his tongue is like a delicious torture, him exploring all the parts of me as if he's never tasted them before. when he runs his teeth gently across my clit, I moan loudly.

"so hot, Matthew, god, please--"

he doesn't even stop to tease me at all. judging by the darkened irises and blown-out pupils, he's lost in his own world while he eats me out. I can feel the pads of his fingertips gripping onto my skin as if it's his only tether to reality. he behaves like someone inebriated, trying new tricks and thrusting his tongue into my entrance. I'm already close, and he can feel from the insistence of my sounds.

he pulls away for a second and I whine, but he puts two fingers over my clit and rubs me like crazy while he talks.

"is this what you wanted for your birthday, sweetheart? to cum?" his mouth is glistening with my essence, lips swollen, while he holds my gaze. I'm whimpering.

"we're gonna have dinner after this and then for dessert, I'm gonna give you what you want," he pants and I can see the erection straining against his clothes. "okay?"

"mhmm." I buck against his touch, which is bringing me closer with every passing second.

"I'm treating you until that little pussy can't take it anymore." he bites his lip and watches me squirm. I'm almost to the edge and I know what will finish me.

"I need your mouth." I beg him hopefully. Matthew grins.

"whatever you want, baby." and with that, he bends down again and replaces his talented fingers with his lips, flicking and running over my clit until I can feel my stomach tensing.

"fuck!" I cry out, rolling against his face and climaxing intensely. my eyes squeeze shut at the tightening of all my muscles. my skin is on fire as I clutch at my tits through the fabric of my dress and feel my back move off the bed. he's pulling my legs up so that he can work me through my orgasm at an angle, harshly sucking at it until I'm completely worn out.

he puts me down and I breathe deeply, try to settle the quickness of my pulse.

"how was that?" he asks, rubbing over my legs affectionately while I come down from my high.

"amazing." I sit up and start to tug at his belt in the hopes of undoing it, but Matthew removes my wrist and shakes his head. I peek up at him with a curious, disappointed expression.

"it's your day, remember?" he says it so lovingly with a slightly higher pitch than normal, soft and laced with kindness. I look at his erection, anyway, always wanting the sight of it.

"that can't be comfortable."

"oh, it's not." he laughs. I let him lift me off the bed and he guides me to the kitchen on my slightly weak legs. everything about him leaves me like that.

Matthew and I eat pizza and drink champagne while he tells me about his trip, about all the cool people he met and places he went to shoot. he shows pictures of the cast and him making silly faces, and a bakery he saw.

"all the pastries are named after amazing women," he grins and presents a photo of the interior, which is full of flowers and hues of rich blue. "so I obviously thought of you."

I smile through my bite of food, heart fluttering. he shows me a picture of a half-eaten cookie that has the silhouette of a woman on the front, sitting in a chair. it's very 1800's-looking.

"it's supposed to be Jane Austen."

"I'm jealous." I grin.

"I'll take you sometime." he puts his phone away and we go back to talking normally. I could watch his lips move forever, listen to his voice forever. there's a quality to his speech that is entirely unique, that draws me in and makes me want to claim him for life. I didn't know it was possible to want someone so completely.

I rant about the things I had to deal with today, and he chuckles at my naturally indignant tone. by the time I run out of steam, we're just sitting with pleased expressions on our faces. even when I'm angry about something that's happened earlier, he knows how to make me forget all about it.

"it would be fun for everyone to meet you." Matthew toys with the napkin in his lap. I sigh.

"as long as there's alcohol involved, sure."

"why?"

"they make me nervous!"

"you have no reason to be nervous," he shakes his head slowly. "they'll love you."

"that's the thing-- I want them to like me so badly, I'll do something to mess it up."

"you couldn't. you're adorable when you're shy." he reaches under the table and squeezes my knee reassuringly. I try to smile, but my stomach twists up at the thought. it's easy for Matthew; he's so uninhibited.

"you say that now, but it'll be a different story when I've managed to fall on my face in front of everyone."

he snorts. "okay, that would be kind of funny."

"hey!" but I'm hiding a smile.

"they'll love you," he keeps his hand on my leg as he looks at me. "you wanna know how I know?"

"how?" I wait patiently for his reply. he leans forward in his seat and beckons me closer.

"because you are the sweetest--" he kisses me. "smartest--" another peck. "funniest girl I know."

"stop." I deadpan as I turn my face away just enough for him to nuzzle my cheek with his nose as I laugh.

"not to mention the sexiest one, too." he whispers in my ear. I put my hand on his shoulder, intending to push him away playfully but finding myself not wanting to.

"I knew that's where you were gonna take that." I roll my eyes. his other hand has been creeping progressively up my thigh until his fingers brush my core. I suck in a breath, remembering that my panties are still in the bedroom.

"you want me to prove it to you?" he starts to stroke over me, gathering the wetness on his fingers that already waits for him. I let out a slight moan as he dips inside and curls his digits.

"mhmm."

he starts to finger me easily, adding a second and pumping them inside while I grip the edge of the table and watch his face concentrate on mine. he's rough and deep, the result of not having his own orgasm earlier. I can see the lust in his eyes like he can't wait to dive in. all that comes out of my mouth are chants of his name, begging for him as his thumb toys with my clit. my walls clench and his jaw hangs open with a slight smile.

"do that again." he says. I obey, squeezing my thighs around his wrist. he feels so good there, and he's not even doing that much. "god, I can't wait for you to do that on my cock."

"fuck me, then." I breathe.

"gladly," he removes his fingers so suddenly, I make a disappointed noise. "get on the table, sweetheart."

"the-- the table?" I glance down at the surface. he nods in complete seriousness. oh, wow.

we clear off the two plates and down the rest of our champagne, his lips capturing mine easily the second I turn around from putting them in the sink. he walks me back to the table, never breaking our contact, before I end up sitting on it. he's between my legs, pushing his hips to mine while he moves my dress up again.

I hum into his neck while he starts to grind against me, undoing his belt and breathing quickly in my ear. I can feel his length through the fabric, feel how desperate he is. I scoot closer to the edge and try to get more.

"are you sure you don't want me to suck your dick?" I peek at him. he tilts my face up and I feel myself sink into those dark circles around his eyes. my beautiful, haunted boy.

"I need to be inside you." he says it without an ounce of humor. every word weighted with desire as he holds me there. my insides feel like they've been electrified, nerves sparking. all I can do is nod fervidly and pull his shirt off.

he takes off his bottoms and stares back at me, stroking his cock while I trail my nails down his chest, abdomen, whatever I can find. he's so gorgeous, I want to leave marks just so I can make sure he's real. he rubs himself in my essence, then pushes the head inside.

"Matthew--" I bite down on his shoulder to silence myself as he stretches me out. it hasn't even been that long, but it feels like the first time. his head dropping down with a long, low groan of pleasure.

"I missed this." he sheathes himself inside, deep, and I feel my walls tightening around him. there's a pressure on my clit from the position we're in, too. I whine on it, letting myself wiggle impatiently.

"move." I whisper. he starts to withdraw, only about halfway, before going in again. I throw my head back at the force of his thrust, so greedy. he's groaning softly while he presses his mouth to my throat, the flutter of his breath over my skin causing shivers to run up and down my spine.

I wrap my legs around his waist and he starts to find a rhythm with my body. nails dig into his back as an anchor. the closeness of his chest to mine is comforting.

"do you know how hard it was not to get myself off, baby?" he says, the words threaded with a needy tone. I shake my head and pray he'll keep talking. "every night I'd think about you and I couldn't do anything about it."

"you could have." I taunt.

"this is better," he goes faster, clutching at my waist and legs to pull me closer. "so much better."

"yeah?" I giggle, although it's hard when he's pounding into me so hard. I cling tightly and try to meet his thrusts. he's hitting different angles within me that I didn't even know existed, tearing me apart in the absolute best way.

"I wanna be inside it all day." he moans. I'm scratching his back with the way we're working together, every word out of his mouth and the sounds he makes causing me to lose my mind. his fingers dig into my ass as he slams into me. the table shakes beneath.

"that feels so fucking good." I grab on and roll my hips against his. his hand moves to my shoulder to push the straps of my dress down.

"let me see you," he tugs them until my tits are out, at which point he grabs my waist and pulls me against him, moaning loudly at the feeling. "pretty girl."

I can feel the tidal wave building within me, the seconds that gather into one wild, exquisite torrent of pleasure. the knot in my stomach tightens as he fucks me.

"I'm gonna cum." tears prick the back of my eyes. he's working my figure so perfectly, I can barely see. my legs are shaking before I even reach the culmination.

"good." he gets erratic as he imagines how pleasurable it'll be to have me clenching around him, and I sink below the surface. my hips jerk and I cry out like it's my last time being with him, his name pouring from my mouth. Matthew speeds up.

"so... tight--" he shudders. "oh fuck-- that's it, baby, that's it."

he spills inside and it prolongs our orgasms, both of us breathing hard while I remove my arms from his shoulders and lean back on my hands against the table, him still thrusting gently into me while we hold eye contact.

when he's finished, he removes himself from me and then we're just there, looking at each other with love all over our faces.

"happy birthday, Y/N." he grins.

"can you give me one more gift?" I bite my lip. he frowns.

"oh, I have several gifts for you in my suitcase--" he starts to say with a laugh, then sees that I'm not referring to anything tangible. "yes, anything."

"can you Clorox this table, please?"

Matthew kisses my cheek. "of course."

[iphoenixrising]

DickTimWeek2021 Day 2

** Day 2: Time Loop | Jealousy | Stray AU

Welp. Time to break some hearts.

They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows. 

“Did you see that thug punch himself in the face?”

“That’s the right way to get out of an ass beating by the Batman.”

Tim, still in Red Robin, doesn’t even bother, just lets his knees buckle so he can slide down to the floor and laugh until tears are rolling down the dominio still plastered on his face.

He’s riding the concussion train with 

(J)

Josephine and she’s not as bad as some of them are. 

Dick at least tosses the gloves and gauntlets before hauling Timmy’s bruised ass up off the floor, throwing the arm around his shoulders.

“C’mon, you butt. Really Timmy, just laying here in your suit? Alfred would be appalled.”

“S’why I don’t go to the Manor much anymore.”

“Ooh, I’m telling. You’re going to be in so much trouble,” as he gets Tim down the hallway to the bathroom.

“Y-You can’t! You’re the oldest! Dami’s supposed to be the tattle-tale!”

“Nu-uh. As the oldest, I can do whatever the hell I want.”

And does he tell on Timmy? You bet your ass he does.

It’s nice when Alfred can look at someone else in the family with extreme disappointment.

Tim comes by the Manor the day Alfred video chats him, shuffles down to the Cave behind the butler and absolutely sticks his tongue out at Dick’s smarmy grin.

**

His apartment is a literal mess and Dick can’t be bothered to do much more than flop on the overstuffed couch with a groan. 

Still in his uni from the day shift, he’s too bruised and battered and tired to even think of suiting up for the night. He’s been running himself ragged for two months, the day and night shifts blending together along with the usual bullshit of daily human life, and he desperately needs a night of terrible television, junk food, and snuggles.

Like he’d been reading the room, Timmy walks out of his bathroom, towel around his shoulder and hair just this side of damp.

“Hey, you made it home in one piece.” Tim’s long fingers in his hair literally pulls a noise out of Dick he can’t ever remember making.

“Yeah, I drove down because you looked like death warmed over when we talked last weekend. Luckily for you I went grocery shopping, did a few loads of your laundry, and cleaned up a little so you don’t have to worry about housework.”

“I love you. Have I told you that recently? Like, so, so much–” is muffled by the couch cushions, but he thinks Tim can probably still make it all out.

“Mmhm, I know,” and the gentle scratching against his scalp doesn’t stop, and Dick goes a little boneless with it. “I even brought my Roku so we can binge watch terrible television while you eat something more substantial than cereal. Alfred is going to be so proud of you.”

A pat to his head and Timmy is off, slinging his towel on the rack, turning on the shower again to make sure it’s nice and hot for all those bruises and contusions.

He’s no-nonsense about picking up his previous mentor and best friend, literally stripping him down and manhandling him in the shower after a low whistle at the span of blue/black across Dick’s chest and ribs, the scrapes across his back and shoulders. 

The first aid kit tackle box makes an appearance because Tim plans for literally everything ever, and Dick finds himself sitting on his sink wearily while his injuries are meticulously treated.

He knows he eats something super tasty with meat and vegetables, his belly full, before Tim pulls him down on the couch and lets Dick lay against his chest, between his legs to sleepily float while watching God-awful B-movies.

It’s the most relaxing weekend he’s had in a while.

**

Dami sneers at Tim, arms crossed over his chest, the expression on his face begging Tim to try to deny it.

The third Robin however, is looking over at Dick with horror that the big secret is finally out in the open.

“Th-that isn’t– it’s not–” Tim fumbles desperately, “he’s been my big brother forever, that’s it!”

“Tt. Grayson may be painfully oblivious, Drake, but the rest of us are detectives. Even Todd knows of your feelings and he rarely even comes to the Manor!”

Tim’s soul literally leaves his body.

Dick blinks, completely taken back, mouth open without anything coming out.

Damian raises his eyes skyward and prays for patients dealing with these two. “What I am saying,” he tries, he really is trying here, “is that you two must cease and desist this pointless–” vague hand wave– “pining for one another. It is getting to the point of absurdity. I demand you two either discuss your need for one another or take this ridiculous mooning elsewhere. The rooftops of Gotham is no place for this,” another hand wave, “utter nonsense.”

Tim’s mouth goes dry, subtly backing away to be closer to the Ducati’s waiting for tonight’s ride. He’s pretty sure he has enough energy left in his shaky knees to hop on one and be the fuck out of the Cave before his face literally bursts into flames.

But, well. Dick was Batman.

His strategic retreat is stomped into the ground by acrobatic leaps and a very well done joint lock to keep him from immediately taking off.

Dami scoffs at them on his way up the winding staircase. He stops Pennyworth on the way and turns the butler to return back into the Manor proper, citing those two needed time to figure themselves out.

**

After several weeks under deep cover, Nightwing wearily hacks into Titan’s Tower and makes his way through the maze of hallways until he hits a hidden panel. 

Tim is sleeping on his desk, only one empty coffee mug at his workstation. Even dead in his boots, Nightwing can take a second just to look, just to sigh, just to enjoy how much every inch of this boy is his.

He journeys down the hall, flips the bed covers up, carries his sleeping partner in and tucks the blankets around him, a quickly there kiss to the top of messy, too-long hair. A shower in Tim’s perch literally makes everything in life a little less awful and exhausting, not enough for him to do much more than crawl in bed against Tim’s warm body and snuggle up close.

He gets breakfast in bed and blue-violet eyes looking at him with fondness rather than awe, gets coffee flavored kisses and a slow-paced back rub that continues down to his thighs and calves and feet. Later, he gets a date night in a nice restaurant and a sweet San Fran club scene for dessert. He gets to let loose and hold Tim’s body against him, to play them both until the gazes are intense and the low key UST between them makes other people on the dance floor give them space.

**

Witty banter is a primary weapon against megalomaniacal bad guys of any flavor. For some former Robins, it’s an art form.

Over the years, they’ve cultivated their dip and distraction to bounce off one another like a well-oiled vigilante machine. 

It should have been a standard take-down because it’s not one of their more dangerous, deadly villains. It’s not one of the Rogue Gallery baddies. It’s not one of the mobster families, not one of the super powered groups come to call. It’s not someone with hordes of thugs and deadly science waiting to take them down.

It’s a simple B&E, just Nightwing talking it up to draw gunfire while Red Robin is creeping up from behind to get the last laugh.

It’s one of a thousand times they’ve done this. 

It’s a guaranteed win.

It’s the last hour of patrol before they get to go back to Red’s penthouse and snuggle together, eat and show, probably have some fantastic sex before passing out.

The .45 shell, however, cuts through the suit, between armored plates. 

Going after the running baddies is automatic, taking them down, zip ties, and viola. They’re ready for GCPD to pick-up, all kinds of gift-wrapped.

When N finally realizes Red isn’t with him, isn’t answering comms, isn’t waiting for him on the roof, he goes back inside. He hits up B for a ride in the big car in case he missed –

– anything.

The pool of blood around Red Robin is more than he can afford to lose, and Nightwing has been in the vigilante life for over twenty years, has been official with Red Robin for a little over two, has personal experience on how his Baby Bird can take a mostly-fatal beating and still keep moving. He’s seen Tim come close with the Clench, with horrifying injuries, with any of the many bad guys they fight holding him hostage.

Nightwing has seen him perform literal miracles.

And tells him so the entire time he’s got Red Robin up in his arms, carrying him through Gotham’s skyline to the waiting car, falling in with Red on his lap when the familiar hatch slides back, the tourniquet already applied before he even shot a grapple. The struggling pulse is enough of a concern to get it together.

And even if they all gather to strip off the suit, and now it’s on to get vitals back to an acceptable range. Even if the Bats cry overhead, even if the equipment is top notch in the Cave, even if Dick is still talking the whole time, and Alfred is keeping a cool head and Bruce is gripping a hand and Damian is standing at the ready to hand implements and Cass is biting her thumbnail while she hovers and Steph is moving from empty space to empty space around the gurney –

The consistent beep of the flatline cuts through it all.

**

The Titans make it for the service. 

Each of them make a point to hug Dick for as long as possible, holding on tightly.

Bruce is silent and stoic, a little boy again when he has to watch someone else he loves being lowered into the cold, unforgiving ground. Another Robin taking a piece of his heart to the afterlife. 

Steph is red-eyed, a ghost moving around to individual circles, listening to stories she might not have known. 

Cass grips the coffin with bruised knuckles, her whole body wound tight as a string ready to snap. She doesn’t move the entire service, is already convinced leaving him to his own devices caused this whole thing. She doesn’t blame the thugs or Dick or Bruce. She blames the boy that never understood how much it all means.

Duke Thomas is back in Gotham, taking leave from the Outsiders to be here for the family that took him in after the Joker drove his parents insane. He hovers in the doorway to welcome mourners, direct them toward the book to sign-in, talks about Tim Drake with regular humans and other metas in disguise, accepts condolences with his throat tight and his eyes watery. He makes sure Dick has a bottle of water after the first hour, pats Damian’s shoulder, grips Bruce’s arm, weaves an arm around Cassandra’s back to give her a squeeze, obediently looks at the old pictures of Tim on Steph’s photo roll when she’s overcome and has to see that smile again.

In the back, Jason Todd wears dark shades and a clean black suit. Roy Harper is beside him, a hand on the broad back to keep him grounded, to keep the Pit rage at bay. If anyone knows how far Tim and Jason had come over the years, it’s the former Red Arrow. If anyone knows how much agony Jason is in at this moment, at another fallen brother, another Robin gone, if anyone had held the Red Hood while he screamed and cried and broke the utter fuck down, it’s Roy Harper.

Damian Wayne hovers right by Grayson’s side, silently supporting his first Batman, his first brother. Whenever Dick’s eyes start going hazy, glazing over, Damian gently grips a wrist to bring him back, allows fingers to lace through his own and tolerates the tight squeeze that obviously assists in grounding the oldest Robin. 

(Later when the night is crowding grief-stricken Wayne Manor, Damian will be the one to open Grayson’s bedroom door, lift the covers to crawl in behind him, to wind both arms tightly. He will be the one to take the onslaught of grief, to be soaked in tears and snot, to listen to the broken, hoarse voice, to make soothing hums that ultimately mean nothing.)

Alfred Pennyworth quietly talks with the funeral director about the arrangements. Of course Master Timothy would want to be laid to rest with his parents, and the family appreciates all the support and ease of process as the deceased was an important part of the Wayne family. 

When he gets a phone call, he firmly verifies the name on the tombstone is Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne Grayson.

**

Exactly four days after the service, the Flash is staring at him helplessly, gripping Nightwing’s arm tight, “please, please, Dick, don’t do this. You can’t think this is the answer!”

He can barely hear Wally with the absolute destruction going on around them, the machine they’d inadvertently stumbled upon (which is a lie, Nightwing had been looking for it and the Flash basically caught him red handed). 

“You know you aren’t going to be able to stop me.” Standing between the glowing portal and Wally, debris from overhead crashing down on them at intervals, Nightwing is at his peak stubborn, “no matter how fast you are.”

“You don’t understand what’s going to happen,” Wally yells desperately as the vacuum starts pulling at Nightwing’s other arm, pulling him into–

–the Speed Force.

“You don’t have the lightning, Dick, you won’t be able to get yourself out, and I won’t have any way of tracking you!”

The small smirk as the machine’s panel starts going haywire, lights blinking and readings off the charts, makes Wally’s heart clench hard in his chest, makes him try to dig in his heels, makes his stomach tremble.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve already done this, Wally. And I’ll do it as many times as it takes until I change everything.”

The pellet Nightwing palmed before the Flash grabbed his hand goes off the same time the machine hits the highest ratings and a low boom is followed up with an intense swirling suction, pulling the heroes closer to the portal’s surface.

The light grenade goes off without a hitch and the Flash has no choice but to let Nightwing go.

**

They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows. 

[seancekitsch]

Dislocated

A/N Warnings: description of injury, references to violence, oral sex, penetrative sex, diego being a soft little angel but also very sexy hot sex man, cursing, diego has long hair but other than that no spoilers, mild product placement because me and u and everyone else are slaves to capitalism, references to diegos comics powers

“Fuck. Where do you keep your bactine?”

“My what?”

“Bactine! You know the spray stuff I use. It would really help that split knuckle of yours,” Diego sounds exhausted, but there's a hint of teasing, or maybe pride in his voice as he rummages on his hands and knees in your bathroom cabinet. The knuckle on your middle finger of your left hand is split open, oozing blood and angry looking. Your bathroom, and the two of you, look like a scene out of a horror film tonight. There is his shirt, which was white earlier tonight, now a red and pink and brown tie dye with blood, some of it yours. You have your hand, and a bruise blooming under your eye. 

“My knuckle wouldn’t need anything if those people hadn’t come after us,” you snap, “Who were they anyway?”

“Oh you know, someone with something against someone in my family,” Diego offers as he digs, as if it's commonplace to fight off attackers on date night. As if this was something normal people from normal families dealt with. Of fucking course, you think.

“Someone? Or you specifically, babe?”

He sits back at this, and a hard look crosses his features, not at you, contemplating, then breaks into the slightest grin as he looks down at the gauze and neosporin in his hands and nods. Thats fair. From where you're sitting on the rim of the tub, he looks like some kind of action hero in the night. Some real die hard shit in your dimly lit bathroom. Normally, it's you in his position, but you doubt you look like this. He's got his vigilante bullshit, which frequently has him showing up during booty call hours needing to be bandaged up before thanking you with a little action of your own. You wonder if he's going to be as good a nurse to you as you are to him, or if he's genuinely a little angry at your role in what transpired tonight. You didn't even make it to your dinner reservation, opting to walk because the weather was nice, before two men dressed exactly the way unnamed baddies in a die hard film grabbed at you from behind and the two of you had to defend yourselves. Only some of the blood on his shirt was yours. This is probably why he always wears black. He looks damn good in black. 

“Anyone ever taught you how to fight? Throw a punch?”

You tilt your head, which is a bad move because it feels a little heavy, giving him a look that says of course no one did. 

“Right,” he nods and you figure that once you heal he will probably be changing that. Diego never wanted to rope you into anything having to do with the academy or what he does at night, unless it was seeing his siblings in almost real people circumstances like dinners. But seeing you get hurt tonight means he obviously has to make some changes to that mindset, you have to be able to defend yourself if for ever some reason he can't. You're going to have to get sweaty, and not in the way you like to. But anything for your safety, Diego thinks. He cannot risk losing you after having lost so much. 

He resigns to this as he helps you up, puts you on the bathroom counter with the vanity, you now sitting on the edge of the sink so he can sink down and sit while he cleans your hand. You were lucky that it was just the left hand. Your right hand had been spared from your left’s bloody fate because of the way your right hand tried to seek out Diego while your left threw a clumsy punch, but the hardest one you'd ever thrown. Your whole arm aches and your bracelet had been broken, but you have to say you're lucky for this being your only injury. Diego clutches your hand, a bit harder, but that's because he knows you're not going to like the feel of the neosporin as it makes contact with your skin. He has a substantial amount on his fingers of the hand that's not holding yours, and looks you in the eye as he makes the ointment meet your skin. No matter how gentle he can be when he wants to, it stings. It's supposed to be that way so it doesn't get infected and kill you, but you can't help the hiss that leaves your mouth and the wince across your features. As he rubs it in, you can feel yourself getting used to the pain. It doesn't subside but it becomes more manageable as it becomes something more familiar. Is this what Diego feels each time? 

It feels worse again when Diego stops rubbing it in, and reaches for the bandages. Maybe because you don't want him to stop touching you, but maybe it is because of more exposure to the air. He uses the hand holding yours to hold it in place as he wraps, gently again, but so the wrap is pulled tight. You have some movement, but you won't be making a fist again for a while. He ties it off, tapes it to make extra sure, and then kisses the knuckles over their bandage as you smile down at him and laugh. Hes a perfect romantic gentleman when he wants to be.

He stands and reaches behind you, arms going around you on either side. You reach to hug him back tightly, only you hear him chuckle as the water of the sink turns on behind you. He's washing the chemicals from his hands. After he scrubs real well, dries his hands, he returns the hug, burying his face in your neck and squeezing tightly as if he's trying to make sure you're still there. His relief fans out as an exhale along your neck and you can physically feel his entire body relax against you now because you're safe. You're going to be okay. 

“How'd I do, baby?” he asks, still burying his face in your neck, “Good enough that your nurse gets a tip?”

“Nurses don't get tips.”

“You usually do.”

“I didn't say you wouldn't be rewarded for your efforts, did I?”

He pulls back to look you in the eye.

“So what do I get?”

“Anything you want, baby.”

Diego’s hands are gentle as they trail from your shoulders down your sides, gripping fistfuls of the flowy shirt you wear and pulls you to the edge of the counter. Still gentle. Still full of fear for you. Maybe mixed and speckled with relief. 

The way his hands continue south, to unzipper your pants, pulling them off slowly, gently, an act of love and service more than an act of lust. He inches the fabric over your ankles, your feet, discards them somewhere outside the doorway into the hall with a small toss. Rises back to his knees for a moment, takes a pause to wrap his arms around you in a hesitant hug, like he could break you, his arms warm. Your arms instinctually settle on his shoulders to cradle the back of his head in your bandaged and loved hands before he snaps out of the moment and moves on to your shirt. He pays special attention to the buttons, one after the other slow and meticulous. If this were another night and a shirt you didn't care much about, there's a good chance he would have just cut the shirt from your frame. But tonight he's doing things like a holy man with an intricate ritual. When the last button is unfastened and free, his palms flatten, slowly slide up your torso over your stomach, over your breasts, and to your shoulders where he moves the fabric from them with the feather light touch taking extra time to feel your left shoulder, the one that swung the momentum of the punch that split your knuckle. He’s checking to see if its dislocated, you realize. 

“D? Baby, I’m okay. You're good at playin’ nurse,” you reassure him. 

He seems to understand, as he next pulls the straps from your bra down your shoulders, slides his hands behind your back, and makes sure you feel the heat from his hands as he makes work of the clasp. Your underwear is next, and a hint of Diego on a normal night shines through, with one hand splayed across your back he uses the other to pull the underwear down from one hip, then switches sides and tugs on the other side. He makes quick work of them, unlike the tempo he had going. They end up somewhere in the doorway near your pants, but you don't really care about their location because he's pressing his lips against your chest just around your sternum and his facial hair tickles. You still weren't completely sure where he came back from or what he went through a few months ago, but the way that he loves you and treats you like the most precious thing is definitely welcome. As was the new lack of haircut and the less groomed facial hair. He kisses lower and lower, making you shiver with anticipation of what's to come, before he settles where he's needed now.

Diego moves slowly, glacial. The way he licks you open has no purpose, merely exploratory and drawn out. Mapping you on his tongue. But it doesn’t fail to have you mewling above him, one hand gripping the counter and the other buried in his hair as his strong calloused hands hold you open for him to drink full. He dips lower, where you need him, then travels north again as if oblivious to your reactions. He could do this all night. He stays there, meandering; savoring the taste lazily as you grow more impatient at the non-committal non-specific way he licks and kisses and moves. You feel like you are hors d'oeuvres and not a meal for a starving man. And then Diego does what Diego does best. He surprises you. A hard suck to your clit has you inhaling sharply, gasping through your nose as your toes curl and your eyes flutter shut. You lean back over the sink, back of your head resting on the mirror as you try to present yourself at an easier angle for him. He dives into licking you in full-heartedness now, fucking you with his tongue, kissing and sucking at your clit, absolutely killing any coherent thought coming through your mind right now. The benefits of dating a man that can hold his breath indefinitely was definitely what he did with his mouth to you when you were alone. 

He adds a finger and you automatically think you've died. He knows exactly what he's doing when he fucks you like this, his mouth adding to the wetness dripping from you as he works you over, putting just enough pressure behind each thrust of his hand to have you seeing stars. Your eyes roll back as a wanton moan tears from your throat and it sounds like someone elses voice desperately chanting his name as he has you coming, coming, and coming on his face and hand. He stays down there, the one hand still on your thigh to hold you in place, to give you a light squeeze, release some of the muscle tension built up while he licks his other hand clean sucking the digit into his mouth obscenely while he smiles up at you like an angel. He rises up from his knees and kisses your cheek with his wet mustache and beard and wraps loose arms around you, a sweet and lazy gesture. 

Diego incites a passion in you that's rare. You can't recall ever wanting a person this much. So despite being sensitive from the absolute divinity of what he'd just done to you, you can't help but to jump off the counter. You reach for his pants, taking the time to feel his hard length under the fabric before you pop the button and unleash the teeth of the zipper. You pull them down just enough to free him from his boxers, and then turn yourself around to bend down against the damp counter you'd just been sitting on, looking at him through playful eyes in the mirror as he stares back, dick out and hesitant. He puts a cautious hand on your hip.

“No, not like this. I wanna see you.”

You meet his eyes in the mirror and tap on the glass with your good hand. He reaches for that arm and slowly turns you to face him.

“No baby,” he refutes, cradling your face in his strong hands, “I n-need to see you.”

So you nod, understanding that he needs this, and reposition yourself to lay on the small woven rug you kept on the floor. The bathroom floor is not the most comfortable place to lay, but this is for Diego and his peace of mind. You yield to his touch and his control over the situation as he finishes undressing and sinks down onto the floor to take his place above you. To indulge in the relief that you are okay, to bask in your gratefulness at how well he patched you up.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your neck as he kisses you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Because you got hurt? Because he needed more tenderness than you originally wanted to give him? Because earlier tonight he was so fucking afraid he’d never get to look into your face again that he has to look you in the eye when you make him come tonight? 

Your bandaged hand finds its way into his hair and holds him there, close, as your fingers go to work to massaging words of comfort into his scalp. He kisses your neck once, twice, three times before lining himself up with your entrance and pushing into your cunt. You're wet, so excruciatingly and devastatingly wet and god it almost hurts him to bottom out inside you the same way something so hot can almost feel cold when it touches your skin and puts your nerves into overdrive. You're so sensitive from his mouth that you have to bite into the skin of his broad shoulder to muffle the scream that rebels against you to break into the air. Your teeth in his skin is his only relief from the soft tight burning taking over him from where your bodies join. He only moves when your teeth recede, his thrusts slow and short and deep, savoring the feeling of being connected, of being inside, of being home. His arms hold you in place while he thrusts just as much as they hold you just to feel you against him at any point of connection he can find. A vow to keep you close, to keep you where you both need each other to be. He moans deeply into your neck, the side of your face, kissing the moan into your jaw like a promise. It's more real than any declaration of love and more spontaneous than any act of romance. It's Diego. 

You can feel yourself getting lost in this, in him. He's pushing you to the edge again. For you, one is too many, and a thousand is never enough with Diego. Its you selfishly moving your hips against the rhythm of his, making you both a little shocked but not embarrassed (never embarrassed) at how close you both are already. There's a desperation in both of your actions, and he pulls back just enough to see you, to let himself be seen by you. Only you. Is this what you look like when you make love after setting stitches in wounds that will definitely scar? You hope so, because he looks like heaven itself. He fucks you through your high (with a scream of his name and tears on your cheeks), fucks you through his own(with a stuttering chant of your name and deadly eye contact), then gives you one more with his mouth on the bathroom rug (with quiet whimpering and praise from both of your lips). Diego lifts you up on unsteady legs and you both tumble into bed. You sleep in late the next morning. You miss calls from his siblings that all go to voicemail. You're home safe.

[namelesswolffreak]

"Boyfriends"

I've been working on this story concept for....3-4 years now and I've finally managed to work everything out to the point I'm confident in posting this little blurb of the main characters. So, I hope you enjoy and feel free to ask questions about them and their world.

Context: This takes place in a world of super powered people heavily inspired by MHA / Marvel / Miraculous. Waker (Way-kur) Atlas is Dare City's main hero who is put through quite a lot on a daily to weekly basis trying to beat the baddies and Cyrus Fauthrin is his infamous thief arch nemesis turned lover and best friend who causes trouble around the city just to get the Hero's attention.

--------------

The melancholy of the day was waning on Waker as he patrolled the quiet streets of one of Dare’s many neighborhoods which was quite unusual considering every seven seconds a villain was after his head. The sun was barely above the clouds, no one was really awake yet and the only thing that accompanied him was his footsteps as he jumped, hopped and skipped to the next platform he summoned under his feet. He happened to be bounding over Lay Wind Park, the foxes fast asleep in their dens to his disappointment, but the Hero Monuments were still a sight to behold in the early sunrise as they shone with brilliance in what little light was filtering over the surrounding hillsides.

The wind blew past his frizzed locks as he stood above the park near a tree in the shade, expression steeled and focused as he watched for signs of trouble as he waited for a certain someone to arrive. Today was uneventful and rather slow, the kind of day Waker preferred if he were being honest. Heaven knew being bored all day was ten times better than returning home to the countless kitchen sink surgeries he’d have to do with worn needles and his mother’s thread pinching into his skin as he sewed up bloodied wounds full of shrapnel and debris. Much better. The birds were chirping a happy, lazy song as they flew by on the breeze and the distant hum of an awakening city filled the natural ambiance of cicadas and crickets quite nicely as he watched and waited. He dare let out a sigh as the scene took hold of him fully, a warmth washing over him that he hadn’t felt in the recent weeks.

Which wouldn’t be for long as the rustling of tree leaves and a “Boo!” have him falling off of his platforms and hurtling towards the ground with an embarrassingly shrill scream.

“Waker!” A concerned voice follows as a blue blur dives after him.

Ground spiraling as he falls, Waker braces for impact, too late to conjure any platforms beneath him to break the fall so, he readies himself, waiting for the hurt and pain that would surely follow with some scrapes and bruises…………...But it never comes. He unscrunches his eyes and removes his arms from his head to see a blue, sparkling light surrounding him.

Irritation and embarrassment take over him immediately.

His face turns a copious amount of red as he’s carefully scooped up in pale arms that hold him close and, humiliatingly enough, in bridal style. Oh god no, he curses mentally, murmuring a soft “No…” into his shield of arms. This was so not how he wanted to show up in front of his partner after their long and grueling few weeks of not being able to see each other outside of villain fights and breaks in between their testing week.

The sudden warmth of a chest presses against his side and the delicate rhythm of a frantic heart race beneath his one hand as the other quickly grabs for his cape to hide his strawberry cheeks. There was no way in hell he was letting ‘he knew who’ see him in such a state, there was no possible way he could let the witch-like thief catch him like this. A brave hero didn’t get scared or spooked by rustling leaves and the word boo! Absolutely absurd! Though a voice in the back of his mind said he already had.

“You are such a fucking clutz, I swear.” And a huge scaredy cat, the blue-clad ravenette doesn’t say aloud, but his tone implies anyways. “I should take you to my ballet classes sometime, maybe then you’d actually learn some balance.” The comment only makes him clutch the soft fabric tighter around himself.

He’s loathing the thought of unveiling himself now, but he knows he’s been caught, his normally stoic or serious persona now broken and practically burned away as he knows his cape isn’t doing much to hide his warm face or the tenseness of his grip. Plans to forever sink himself into a hole where nobody could possibly ever find him again after this mess are shortly abandoned for now and gaining courage Waker swallows the huge lump in his throat and tries to cleverly reply. “H-hey, what’s a-....What’s up, Witch Boy?” And he knows the intended playfulness doesn’t go through as he’s met with a narrowed glare.

The other isn’t amused. “Witch boy, really? Did I actually scare you that badly that you lost a couple of brain cells?”

“Shu-shut up, Cyrus!” He defends as this “Cyrus” just sighs at him, though his stare more sly than pointed now.

“Get out of that stupid thing so I can see your face.” He says with a tremble in his voice that Waker can definitely tell is laughter, the prick. “Or I’ll totally drop you again.” And like hell he will, Waker knows, but he takes the threat seriously nonetheless and loosens his grip on the cape just enough to see the Ravenette’s brilliant and ever playful smile.

For a moment Waker just stares and admires him, those brilliant blues sparkling, no, literally sparkling as he says something Waker doesn’t catch. The sun is framing his face so perfectly in the light, highlighting those perfectly red cheeks he would love to kiss every morning, and the slight upturn of his lips as he smiles down in reverence at him, and the slow flutter of his lashes that compliment his features nicely. Though braided off to the side Cyru’s hair never fails to make him look so ethereal as the gentle morning breeze brushes back his loose strands. Waker swears it looks like its made up of space itself when he lets it go during the night time, convincing himself he can see stars within the strands when he stands beneath the moonlight. It doesn’t take much to make the hero swoon regarding his partner nowadays. Daydreams of peaceful nights alone on the couch watching movies together after his nightmares keep him awake and alert run through his mind, or the times Cyrus has saved him from getting beaten to a pulp and they spent hours talking over stitching him back together about nothing at all, and every single time Cyrus has stuck up for him at school, reminding him of the warmth this person carries with them and all the love and affection he’s constantly showered in when they’re together. It’s strange how much Cyrus has changed over the past few months from raging emo to ride or die friend, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. He doesn’t even try to stop the lofty sigh that escapes his lips as more dear memories cross his mind.

And Cyrus is all too quick to recognize that dumb look on his face.

“Oh, hell no!” Is the only warning he gets before being promptly dropped, this time no blue aura to save him from hitting the dirt below, landing with a thud. “Not this early in the morning!” Though Waker could have sworn Cyrus was sharing the same look with him not minutes prior.

“Ow! Why’d you drop me, asshole!?”

Cyrus cocks his hips as he floats there, his wide brimmed conical now covering his eyes in an intimidating manner, making him way more menacing than he should considering his current attire. “Oh please, don’t even act like you’re hiding that stupid look on your face, Idiot! I ain’t dealing with your whole sappy dappy act this early in the morning.”

By “sappy dappy” Waker knows exactly what he’s referring to and scowls accordingly. Apparently, holding hands and having morning cuddles while complimenting everything about Cyrus is considered sappy and lovingly disgusting. Well at least to some people, it’s called affection and admiration!

“It’s a look that means I like you, asswipe!” Waker shoots back, malice nowhere to be found in his tone though, barring more on playfulness.

“Do you think I’m in love with you or something!?”

And they then stand there -well float there- in silence, both looking each other in the eyes, narrowed brows testing the other to make the next move or say the next snappy comment. And for a moment it looks as if the words really have cut too deep, but Waker isn’t one to remain serious for long as his shoulders begin to shake, prompting the other to clutch his stomach and stifle a grin as their eyes water over with laughter.

“Oh, no, not me, I could never.” Waker quips, leaning back and hugging both his arms, not caring for the dirt now caking his suit. Cyrus is quick to come back with his own natural snark.

“Pfft, as if! Absolutely not. Me and you, the orange haired frizz ball who kicks my ass more than twice a week over that one time I stole a candy bar? You gotta be fucking with me!” He bellows, Waker taking note of the boy flipping upside down where he floats in the air, his face a contortion of joy and happiness as his ripped dress flows with the wind.

He finds the display rather adorable, recalling that such a thing only occurred by accident when the thief was getting emotional. His inept ability to control his powers never failed to amuse the Hero. The little wrinkle of his nose didn’t quiet his thoughtful admiration either as he blushed in between bouts of giggles.

"I wouldn't have time to be your lover anyways!"

“It’s only 6am, when can I admire my boyfriend so it fits within your busy schedule?”

And the laughter is immediately quieted, a heavy silence filling the air, even the crickets and cicadas falling victim to it. The world is waiting in bated breath as if listening to the drama unfold.

Waker holds in a breath. Oh shit, oh fuck, he really fucked it up this time! Way to go, Atlas, you really did a number on today!

…………

………….

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, I just did-”

“It’s ok……” Cyrus breaths out, taking a long drag of air before finally finishing. “It’s….ok.” He manages to lower himself to the ground, dress falling at his sides, and crosses his arms in doing so. “We’re-I’m going to have to get used to it eventually.” He shrugs. “Right?”

There’s a weight to his words as Cyrus steps closer to the redhead that Waker recognizes near immediately. They’ve had this talk before, a talk that has led to a misunderstanding or two between them in the past and a verbal fight at that. The term “Boyfriend.” It was a touchy subject to say the least and while it had been a challenge for even Waker himself to start using it, it also seemed Cyrus was struggling to accept the lofty title. A long time ago before the two even met, the word had a different meaning to it for them both, but Waker had long since come to terms with it himself, but understood Cyrus’ hesitation in saying the word freely. He considered his next words carefully.

“I know you don’t exactly like the ter-”

“It’s not that I don’t like it Waker…..”

“I know, Cy, but.” Failing to put his thoughts into words Waker scrambles forward to catch Cyrus’ hands in his own, pecking each delicately, square on the knuckles, gauging his reaction whilst he does so. When Waker is met with a soft smile, he returns it, though his much softer and kinder in Cyrus’ eyes. “I shouldn’t have said it when you’re not ready. Just because I moved past it doesn’t mean you have.” Noticing his smile slipping he clumsily adds in, “And that’s ok! Really, it’s ok and I mean, and I love you and-uh, I get it and I mean I just say boyfriend because that’s what everyone else says, expects- wait no- I didn’t mean to phrase it like that uh-I don’t really get the need for a title for what we have anyways, like so dumb right!?”

Followed by more ridiculous rambling that has Cyrus covering his mouth trying not to giggle. It’s a nervous habit that has come to amuse the thief to no end. “And-it not like it means anything to us, its just there for other people so they know that um, we, us, you and I are an um item I guess wow that was cheesy and dumb and I am so sorry that you have to put up with me oh god I’m rambling and no, don’t look at me like that. I’m doing the thing again aren’t I-” Shaking with laughter again Cyrus has to put a hand on his shoulder to get him to shut up because he knows if he doesn’t Waker could go on well into the night and has before. It didn’t help that he could feel the tremble of the others fingers, realizing Waker was going to throw himself into an anxiety attack if he didn’t.

“Waker!” And Waker promptly closes his mouth, panic clear in his eyes that Cyrus quickly combats by brushing strands of orange out of his face and behind his ear. “Just take a deep breath.” And Waker does, following the instruction intently. “And let it out, slowly.” And Waker follows that too, looking that much calmer as Cyrus pulls him closer. “Slowly.” He rubs his thumbs over Waker’s hands. The trembling is still present, but less so. “There you go.” And doesn’t stop telling him to breath calmly until he feels Waker’s grip relax in his own.

Delicately and softly, each flyaway is combed back into place only to immediately pop out again, but Waker appreciates the sentiment anyways and Cyrus has no problem being given an excuse to keep combing through such lovely soft tufts. He loves the soft mane of fluff on his partner’s head that even since their first meeting has remained as untamed and wild as ever. -Such a shame he always ties it back when he’s on duty though- It just adds to the contrast between his actual self and hero persona, the sweet and endearing ball of anxiety vs the serious and battle ready hero of Dare city who couldn’t catch a break. And he wouldn’t be ashamed to admit to which one he preferred.

“You don’t need to tell me-er.” Waker quickly corrects, trying not to sound patronizing. “I don’t need you to explain yourself Cy. You-we don’t need to have a name if that’s what you want, that’s what I’m trying to say. Official or unofficial or whatever, I won’t treat you any different.”

“I know Waker. I…..I really want to call you that, just I-.......I just like what we have right now and-”

Waker just pecks him on the cheek quickly and pulls away to pat at a spot on the ground, looking longingly back up at him. A soundless “You don’t want to lose me.” goes unsaid as Cyrus complies, Waker taking the shorter one in his arms once more.

It wasn’t a matter of Cyrus being afraid to commit, though maybe it was, not even he was sure of what was going with himself anymore, but a fear that the wonderful friendship he’d built up with the hero would end or change or just not be the way it is now because they suddenly started calling each other boyfriends. He’s had it happen one too many times at this point, every one of his previous “boyfriends” changing everything once they started dating, acting as if kissing and romantic outings were supposed to be their only interactions from now on. They were no longer interested in the random silly things he found on the internet or just hanging out doing whatever, but were interested in using him, his body, parading him around and rubbing it in peoples faces, being denied having fun if it wasn’t their idea of “fun” and more. Cyrus' stomach curls remembering being ignored for weeks to months at a time because he wasn’t feeling up to being in bed with them or awkwardly sitting off to the side while his one boyfriend at the time showed him off to his friends and bragged. It was the same guy who he used to play videogames and eat cookies with on the weekends, talking about anything and everything…...It hurts him to realise there probably was never a friendship there to begin with. Just an elaborate ruse to get him into bed at some point.

And that was one thing Cyrus feared when they had held hands for the first time after awkwardly admitting to harboring feelings for each other after the high of a fight they were forced to join sides on. Never had the thief felt more relieved that his feelings were reciprocated, but also more scared that he had just ruined the one healthy relationship he managed to make in those many months spent together.

Cyrus removes his hat and huddles under Waker’s chin, placing his head right on his heart that gives out a steady, comforting rhythm and brightens when the taller of the two puts his head on him in return. No, Cyrus thinks, this is different.

A long silence falls between them as they cuddle in each other's arms, just watching the sun come up. Basking in each other’s presence, taking in the warmth of their bodies pressed together in this nice early morning, and relishing in the calm which was far and few in between with their double lives and they were thankful. There’s no need to exchange words now as a quiet understanding befalls them both.

It’s only after the sun seems to peak at the crest of the hillsides does Waker make himself heard again.

“Is that why you dropped me?” And Cyrus blinks for a quick second, processing the question before understanding and then playfulness cross his expression.

“No it’s because you’re a dunce.” He huffs. “And fucking heavy as hell.”

Waker chooses to ignore that last bit. “But I’m your dunce.” He boops his nose.

“Damn, straight you are.” And Cyrus retaliates with a kiss on his.

Boyfriend or just “friend who I like to kiss and hold hands with sometimes”, Waker loves him and Cyrus doesn’t doubt that for a second.

[vagrantblvrd]

Another modern day au? But this time with more ridiculousness.

The one where Grogu is the sole witness to a Nefarious Crime who can identify the Nefarious Crime-doer and is placed in protective custody for his safety.~

But then Nefarious Crime-doer puts the word out they want Grogu dealt with, resulting in their right-hand man, someone named Gideon to oversee things on that front. But, because Nefarious Crime-doer doesn’t want things traced back to them, the job of ~deaing with Grogu gets outsourced.

Which is how Din, bounty hunter and generally speaking Very Tired Man, finds himself accepting a job that turns out to be more than he reckoned for, what with finding a tiny child at the end of it and all.

One who was in the care of federal agents who were gunned down by someoe else claiming to have been hire by the same mn, the one who Din had been told to refer to as “The Client” and apparently set a price on the kid’s head too tempting for anyone not squeamish about killing a kid to pass by.

He wasn’t told it was a kid, wasn’t told others had orders to kill the kid, none of this is what he signed up for and th sight of the dead federal agents, the cold look in the man in front of him tells him he’s already past the point of no return.

(Finish the job or let the man do his, and he’s still fucked because the damn federal agents.)

Din realizing he’s not a heartless bastard as he saves Grogu from someone who is a heartless bastard and takes Grogu and has to go on the run to keep him safe becuase he just killed a man and dear God, what did he just do???

(But then little Grogu and the sight of the other man about to shoot him, and there was really no other choice.)

Adventures! Shenanigans! Din and Grogu dodging people out to kill both of them as he realizes just how much trouble he’s gotten himself into!

But also, Kuil, Karga, Cara and all the others he meets along the way who become allies and friends he knows won’t sell him out.

And, you know. U.S. Marshals and other feds and whatnot looking for the kid and whoever killed the agents assignd to protect him and it’s just.

A lot to deal with okay? A lot.

Meanwhile, Luke is one of the U.S. Marshals tasked with finding Grogu and whoever took him.

There’s this whole thing where he’s the youngest on his team and the son of a legendary agent, he gets his fair of good-natured grief from his co-workers.

But this thing with Grogu is big, big news and a tskforce is put together and the good-natured grief he gets from the people who know him, have worked with him for years suddenly isn’t.

Nothing new there, Anakin Skywalker is a point of contention in the agency due to The Incident that happened shortly before Luke and Leia were born.

Corrupt politician and a powerplay, corrupt federal agents across several agencies and a conspiray theory that still affects those agecies to this day.

Also, the thing where Anakin left the U.S. Marsha service once things were over (with typical Skywalker Dramatics, Obi-Wan had told him laushing at Anakin’s long-suffering groan) and joined the private sector.

Didn’t actually mean to start a mini-exodus when he did, but, well. Charismatic and such, and he and Obi-Wan are fo-founders of a personal protection business that does quite well for itself thanks to its first client being a well-known a respeted politician and such.

(Luke loved hearing that part of the story as a kid, knowing everything his dad did back then had been for love of his mom.)

Luke could have, should have, gone to work for his dad and Obi-Wan, but there was a recruiter. Someone who talked up working for the U.S. Marshals and they need someone like him, and other things.

Anakin is like *sigh* because that’s pretty much how they got him too, you know? But you can bet he keeps an eye on things with Luke in case it turns out he and the others didn’t manage to rip out all the corruption on their way out.)

Luke’s got all that to deal with, a federal agency that’s still finding it’s feet all this time afterwards and...fellow federal agents who look at him and see a problem agent just like his father. (Don’t know the full story, think his dad should be in jail and all that and apples falling from trees, and anyway, he’s lucky to have his team and superiors who know better and it’s not that often he runs into problem like this.)

Anyway, Luke and this taskforce looking for Din, thinking he’s a heartless bastard looking to cash in with the kid - Grogu, according to the - but Luke is like.

He’s That Guy, the one who looks at the crime scene, reads everything they have on Din and goes, “Something doesn’t add up,” because of course he is.

His team’s used to that, learned to trust his instincts on things like that so instead of looking at Din like he’s just another common criminal, violent thug, they look the whole situation from a different perspective, that he’s trying to protect Grogu rather than cash in on him. (His death.)

But because of Luke’s history with the agency the rest of taskforce isn’t inclined to believe that, think Luke’s...who even knows, bubt they’re dismisive of his theories and aren’t subtle about it and there’s a new nesion between the teams on the taskforce.

As Din gets caught up in situation after situation and witness accounts and so on paint Din in a good light - more of the taskforce leans towards Luke and his team’s view on Din not being a bad guy here? But there are still holdouts, bitter about the hand Anakin had in the resturcturing of the agency, old friends and mentors exposed as corrupt and wasting away in jail and personal grudges and so on.

And then!

Luke checking on a lead, going to talk to one of Din’s new associates in  little town in the desert, a former soldier and a guy who runs a bounty hunting business and happens to be in the right place at the right tie to actually see Din.

Grogu’s with him, seems happy enough, not scared of Din, and Din is watching the kid like a hawk.

Right up until a group of guys show up and the shooting starts and it’s Luke’s day off, but he’sworking on the whole work/life balance thing, but is also trying to stay alive.

Also, hey, hi, M. Djarin, fancy meeting you here, as they end up taking cover behind the same overturned table, Cara and Greef grabbing Grogu and getting him the hell out of the line of fire, and anyway, anyway, what a lovely day, wouldn’t you say?

The thing where they have to flee together and Luke gets a little bit shot - nothing fatal, really, just you know.

Fashionably injured in which Din has to haul him to safety and some dingy motel somewhere and medical supplies from a gast station or pharmacy and Luke watching Din as he patches him up so he doesn’t bleed to death.

Calloused hands with old scars on his knuckles tuching him ~gently, with the kind of care that seems at odds with his checkered patch, and the man is all nerves because his situation gets worse every damn day he’s on the run with Grogu.

And now, okay, now he’s got a federal agent’s life in his hands, someone who probably thinks he’s the bad guy here, might put a bullet in him to keep from going to jail and it’s.

A lot, alright? The same it’s been since he took the damn job, set eyes on Grogu and ruined everything he’s worked for his whole damn life.

But Luke, okay. Luke is just wathcing him, relieved his instincts were right about Din because he had no reason, no reason, to help Luke out. Save his life, drag him to safety and the whatnot. No reason to risk being identified when he went out for medical supplies to tend to Luke’s injury, and yet he did.

The whole thing where Din’s just waiting for Luke’s people to bust in, haul him off to jail, but it never happens.

Not even when he falls asleep because he hasn’t gotten nearly enough of it the last few weeks , gives Luke the chance to call for backup, lock Din away.

None of that happens, although there is a moment the next day where Luke tries to talk Din into coming with Luke, trusting him to clear his name and take care of Grogu where he almost, almost thinks Luke means what he says -

But then the baddies find them again and it’s a whirlwind car chase that ends with a shootout and Din sneaking away when the cops show up and Luke has to explain that hey, no, he’s on their side and please don’t shoot him, he’s been shot enough for the time being, thanks.

More shenanigans in which Din and Grogu elude baddies and Luke (and his team, a few from the task force who are one their side) try to catch up to them only to be too late every time.

And then!

There’s a thing where the baddies get their hands on Grogu and Din has no choice but to call Luke for help, doesn’t care what happens to him so long as Grogu’s safe and it’s just.

A lot of Drama and Angst and this whole convoluted plan to draw the baddies out using Din as bait or whatever because he’s a loose end they can’t afford and it’s all very exciting and dramatic.

(Also, Luke making sure he or someone he trusts is with Din the whole time he’s with them preparing to get Grogu back, keeps him from running by just being there, someone he trusts.)

Exciting action climax in which there is shooting - so much shooting - and Daring Feats and also an Evil Monologue or two, who knows.

Din gets fashionably shot as well, makes a shiity joke about him and Luke matching now with the whole being shot thing what is wrong with him and is reunited with Grogu thinking it’s the last time he’ll see him and all.

Because Witness Relocation for Grogu and jail for Din and just, you know how it is.

But there’s Luke watching Din and Grogu, nd he’s thinking, you know?

Luke with connections he only clls on when things are Dire and never for himself, and anyway, anyway.

There’s a thing where Grogu goes into Witness Relocation until the trial and Nefarious Crime-doer goes to jail for a long, long time . Din doesn’t get tossed into a cell, although he does spend a lot of time talking to federal agents of all kinds before they let him go home.

And Luke, okay, Luke is Plotting.

Meanwhile, Din goes about his life best he can after the upheaval and chaos of the last few months.

All these little reminders of Grogu in his life in the form of a toy or shirt or somehing left behind, forgotten until he stumbles accross them and it’s all very Angsty for  bit.

But then there’s a job offer, this personal protectoon company and it doesn’t click in Din’s mind until he’s waiting for the interview that wait, wait.

Skywalker isn’t exactly a common name, and Boba mentioned something about this Anakin Skywalker who almost burned the U.S. Marshal service down over twenty years ago about a conspiracy and whatot.

(Boba meddles in Din’s life even though he’d deny it to his dying day, and he got the whole miserable story about Din’s adventures in keeping Grogu alive and that one federal agent who didn’t think Din was a heartless monster.)

Anyway.

Din gets called in for his interview - didn’t want to take it, but he needs a job and bounty hunting had already lost its shine before he met Grogu, and anyway. Boba insisted.

So he walks into Skywalker’s office, not sure what to expect, but it sure as hell isn’t Luke, and defintiely isn’t Luke and Grogu with an older man who must be Anakin smiling at the two of them as they ply some kind of game and Din really needs to sit down before he does something embarrasing as faint.

Which, you know. Perfect time for Luke to explain that with Nefarious Crime-doer in jail and his criminal organization torn up by the roots, there’s no reason Grogu has to stay in Witness Relocation.

That, circumtances being what they are, he’s up for adoption and would Din happen to know anyone interested?

(Luke has been busy, the last few months, okay. Very busy calling in favors and whatnot and it’s all worth it to see the look on Din’s face, gap-toothed smile on Grogu’s.)

Also, though.

Anakin has heard all about Din from Luke, and he has been looking for more people since business has been good, and Din is just.

Overwhelmed, because too much good happening all at once.

Luke and Anakin share this look because wow, yes, they know the feeling. Luke takes Din and Grogu out for lunch, go to a quiet, out of the way place to let the poor guy think over his options because he really hasn’t had the luxury to do so for a while now.

Grogu is delighted, because he missed the hell out of Din, and Luke’s been pretty great too, and after a while Din stops worrying and pays attention to that, to Grogu.

Sweet kid, really, and Din already knows he’d do anything for him. Adopting him would be the smallest of it.

As the job...he’ll have to think about it a little longer, uncomfortable with the thought Luke got it for him rather than him earning it, and when he eventually mentions that in another meeting with Anking a week or so later, Anakins is just.

“Well, alright then,” and lets Din prove why he deserves the job.

Anakin knows he does already, okay, from what Luke told him about the whole Situation when he was on he run with Grogu and saving Luke’s life and the praise Luke’s team and others have had for Din. But this is about Din needing to know he does, and he’s more than willing to give that to him.

And then!

Once things have settled down in Din’s life, once he’s got his kid and a good job and some semblance of stability for both of them, Luke is kind of just.

There.

Around Din’s work because of Anakin, and the business’ firt client is Luke’s mother, and also Grogu being all :(((((((( becuase he misses Luke, and Din hates it when Grogu’s :(((((((((, so.

Luke is around, and it’s a little awkward at first, takes Din a while to realize that okay, wow, yes, Luke is actually flrting with him and not just being his usual friendly self.

(Cara and the others just shake their head at him when he has that realization because seriously, okay, seriously.)

Anyway, anywy, awkward flirting and dates and a goodnight kiss where Din is like oh, no, because this relationship of theirs is serious and he does’t know how to do this, be a normal human being in a functioning relationship, okay.

(And yes, part of him knew it was serious before then, it hadn’t sunk in yet, and anyway, yes.)

Uncharted territory and all, but Luke is smiling at him and according to several reliable sources (Leia and Han among others) is a human disaster in his own right, so maybe they can figure things out together, you know?

Might be nice.

(It is, though, absolutely the nicest.)

[onceuponachole]

Touchy/11

Woah, the first drabble I’ve written on tumblr! A lot of people I know follow my wattpad account (cringe) so I’m doing this now! 

Concept: Although 11 is known for being quite touchy with no sense of personal space, he’s always been a little more so with one of his companions. 

-----------------------------

Per usual aboard the Tardis, it was fizzing with excitement. Giddiness was apparent throughout the console room, followed by the chipper hums and whirs of the Doctor’s beloved transportation herself. Speaking of the Doctor, he spun around the console like a child in a toy store, flicking switches and pressing buttons (though he most likely doesn’t know what all of them do). Watching his actions with amusement, Amy Pond’s lips quirked into a knowing smile. The next adventure was going to be a good one. 

 “Whad’ya think about Florana, eh? Haven’t been there in regenerations! It shouldn’t be too busy this time of year, what with the roses not in bloom yet. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, it always makes me feel a hundred years younger!” the Doctor rambled, rocking on his heels and dashing to and fro.

 “When have you said that?” I asked, hiding my laughter with a smile. I folded my arms over my chest, leaning against the railing along the middle platform.

 “Oh, you know, just once really but I’ve always wanted to say it like that,” he shrugged, finally leaving the console to talk to me and the Ponds. 

 I laughed, no longer able to keep the feeling from bubbling. Taking the space next to me, the Doctor flashed me his signature grin and dove in to peck my cheek. His nose made contact with my face, brushing my cheekbone, and just like that it was over. I couldn’t help but grin back, feeling my face flush. 

 He’s always been a bit (okay, a LOT) touchy, not that I mind. Amy’s always said he kisses me more than her or Rory, but I’m not sure I believe it. He’s just the Doctor, he has a funny way of showing his emotions. Recently, however, his small moments of affection have given me a lasting effect. From short spurts of butterflies in my stomach, to an inability to talk without sputtering, he always had a way to make me feel special. It’s one of the downsides of his quirks, having to deal with the feelings after. I’ve never really considered it before, but it makes sense now to say that I’m smitten with him. And as far as I’m concerned, he has no clue. 

 Rory quirked an eyebrow, “No freaky aliens this time? I don’t want a plant trying to devour us or something.” 

 “No, no, nothing like that. Although I do suppose...,” the Doctor paused before shaking his head, “nope! No scary baddies out for us this time,” he smiled.

 Rory let out a short lived sigh of relief as the Tardis jolted suddenly. A fizz, pop! was heard, followed by sudden darkness from everywhere except the time rotor in the middle. It’s cerulean glow dimmed significantly, making a sort of wheeze. Immediately, the Doctor sprinted to the center and experimentally flicked some levers. I followed, standing just a little behind so he had room to analyze. 

“Power must’ve been shut off. Could be due to the amount of timey-wimey-ness...maybe the old girl can’t handle it,” he muttered, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. I pat him on the shoulder encouragingly, which seemed to startle him out of his trance. Gazing at me in the light of the time rotor, eyes gleaming, he snatched my hand from where it was resting at my side and cradled it in his own. His calloused thumb brushed circles over the back of my hand in an effort to comfort me. 

 I glanced at Amy, who had since shuffled to the opposite end of the console. She gave me a pointed look, mouthing a “see?”. I only shook my head in denial, before returning my attention to the Doctor. 

 “We could always try to reroute the power, the swimming pool is using an awful lot of it. Maybe there wasn’t enough of it going to the console,” I offered, smiling sheepishly. 

 “There’s a swimming pool in this thing?” Rory promptly exclaimed. 

 “Oi,” the Doctor retorted, “she isn’t a thing!” 

 “Alright you lot, we have bigger fish to fry. It’s gotten chilly in here since you started yabbering,” Amy complained. 

 “(Y/N)’s not wrong,” the Doctor continued, “it could be that not enough power is being transferred throughout the TARDIS. Rerouting it may be easier said than done though. I’m not sure it’ll work, but we can try!”  Swiftly, he descended the stairway to the lower level, pulling me along with him. I looked at Amy and Rory, who both gave me a thumbs up. I rolled my eyes, wiping my free hand on my pants.

 Although the lighting was dim, the Time Lord managed to grab his tinkering goggles and grabbed a fist-full of thick cord in the middle of the bunches of other mechanical wonders. I stood back to give him some space, shoes scraping along the steel, web-like floor. 

 The Doctor yanked on the wires for a few minutes, muttering incoherently, before piping up again. “(Y/N), can you help me out a bit? This hasn’t been moved in a while,” he laughed nervously, offering me his hand once more. I nodded, crouching next to him. He raised his arms in preparation to pull the cord out of it’s socket, but stopped abruptly. “Oh! Can we count down from three? I love three, it’s just such a lovely number.” 

 I giggled out a response, “Of course! That sounds more coordinated anyway.” We glanced at each other, or the silhouettes of each other, before we counted, 

 “Three.... 

 Two.... 

 One!” 

 and we tugged as forcefully as possible. The cord exited the socket aggressively, sending us tumbling. We crash landed with him almost on top of me, his elbow jabbed at my ribs, my legs tangled with his. I winced, sitting up, and the lights flashed back on. The TARDIS whirred appreciatively, resuming it’s normal tasks of whoosing the time rotor and lighting up buttons on the console. The Doctor sat up, grinning, and carefully placed his goggles on the floor next to him. I moved to the left, narrowly escaping his gangly legs, only to be pulled back in again and pecked on the lips. My face ignited in hues of pink, my chest rising and falling faster than normal. 

 “We did it! Well, actually you did most of the planning and the execution, so I suppose I should hand off the credit to you--” he stopped, mid-sentence, noticing my stunned silence. “What’s wrong?” 

 I gulped nervously, “Can we t-try that again?” I didn’t make eye contact with him and feared for the worst. 

 “Try wha- oh. That,” he mumbled, ears going red. 

 Tears stung my eyes in a fit of embarrassment. I shouldn’t have said anything, oh God he’s going to make me go home--, “I’m so sorry, I won’t do that again haha, I was only joking really, itdidn’tmeananythingIswear,” I sputtered. 

 The Doctor tilted my chin up with his hand, wiping my face of a tear that escaped. It was horrendously silent for a moment, before he whispered, “Do you like me?” 

 The tears fell a little harder now, I was mortified. “Yeah,” my voice cracked. “Do you? Like me, I mean?” Sniffling, I finally looked at his eyes. Those gorgeous green eyes, the ones that had seen more than I will ever know and whose intensity matched the thousands of galaxies we’ve flown through. 

 “More than you’ll ever know,” he replied. He leaned in hesitantly, before making contact with my lips. Kissing me, ever so softly, afraid that I was made of porcelain. I returned his slow passion with my own, resting a hand on the side of his face. I tried to push all of my feelings toward him into his brain, hoping, wishing that he knew how much I yearned for this. We separated, panting, and he smiled a smile so full of love that I felt weak in the knees. 

 Standing up, he brushed off his classic tweed jacket, and offered me his hand like he had so many times before. Quirking an eyebrow, he asked, “Shall we?” 

 I took his hand, smiled, still sniffling, and stood, not wanting to let go of him ever again.   

“To Florana! Geronimo!” 

[itsclydebitches]

Hey, this is old question but why do you think Raven left Yang? We never get an explicit answer but why would Raven accept the bird powers from Ozpin, decide to have a baby with Taiyang but leave soon after? Especially when this is before Summer died and Ruby was born. Personally I feel like we should have seen Raven in V7-8 because Yang's arc with her just feels so unresolved.

Yeah, it does feel pretty unresolved right now. However, based on what we have gotten and what we know about Raven, I personally headcanon: 

She'd have accepted the powers no matter what, once they were offered. Raven, by her own admission, has a survival of the fittest mentality going on. The strong survive, the weak die, and therefore anything that has the potential to make her stronger is automatically something to grab hold of, no matter the cost (example: killing the Spring Maiden. Power equals worth taking a life). Whether Raven took the bird powers with an intention to use them for good, only to abandon that desire once she learned of Salem's immortality, or whether she always had one foot out the back door, ready to abandon Ozpin's cause at the slightest whiff of real danger, the result is still the same: hell yeah an ability that allows her to spy on others, escape bad situations easily, etc. She’ll take it. Personally, I lean towards the latter option. We learn that she and Qrow entered Beacon with the intention of killing huntsmen later and there's almost nothing, to my mind, to suggest that Raven turned away from those views as Qrow did. Not when she so passionately returned to the tribe and took up activities that, although indirectly via grimm, absolutely kill huntsmen. I think Raven played the part of a good little Beacon student, was a decent enough actor and fighter to become a member of Ozpin’s inner circle (benefited by Ozpin’s own tendency to trust/see the best in others, as well as being part of a team made up of Good Guys), happily accepted a HUGELY beneficial bit of magic, and then said, "So long, suckers" when things actually got tough. If Summer hadn't disappeared and Raven had never learned about Salem? Maybe she would have stayed long term, doing the work of a huntress with a few extra war missions on the side. But an immortal enemy who may have killed a teammate? Way too dangerous for Raven's liking. I think she cares about others to a certain extent - years of friendship, a relationship with Tai, and crying beside Yang all point to that - but I don't think that care has ever overridden her own self-interest. If it had, she wouldn't have allowed Vernal to take on the risk of being the Maiden instead of her. If it had, she wouldn't have allowed Yang to take on the risk of the Relic instead of her. If she had, she wouldn't have left not just Yang as her mother, but everyone once she realized how much danger they were all in. Raven puts herself first, always.

Which I think is the explanation for Yang too. We don't know that she decided to have a baby with Tai, we just know that she did have a baby. Accidental pregnancies happen, pregnancies where the father wants the child but the mother doesn't happen, pregnancies where the mother is chill with it at first but once the child is born decide this isn't for them happen... and in Remnant terms, pregnancies where the mother learns more about the war she’s in during those nine months and only then decides to bail could happen too. There are a lot of possibilities here. Personally, being pro-choice and all, I'm of the opinion that Raven is not a horrific person for leaving Yang, more-so due to... everything else she's done lol. Would it be great if life worked in a way where every mother was emotionally ready to parent a child and never ever had one unless they were? Of course! Is that realistic? Not by a longshot. Raven did the Remnant equivalent of giving her kid up for adoption, except actual adoption wasn't needed because the father was in the picture and quite obviously wanted to keep the kid. So Raven has Yang - carries the pregnancy to full term for whatever reason she and/or Tai may have had. Hell, we don’t even know if abortions exist in Remnant - and then wipes her hands of things. If I remember correctly (outside of the comics anyway) Raven really does keep completely out of Yang's life from then on. Summer is her mom. Raven was just the biological parent. For however horrible Raven is in other respects, she had the right to let Summer and Tai raise Yang instead. She stepped out of her life, seemingly unaware that Tai said little about her, resulting in a Yang who grew desperate to find out any scrap about her "real" mom, tracking Raven down despite Raven keeping her distance. But all of this is a long-winded way of saying that Raven never struck me as someone interested in motherhood. We don't know why she decided to have Yang, but once she did... what's a self-serving bandit going to do with a newborn? Unless Raven had decided to raise Yang as a totally loyal second or something, a baby is a danger. A liability. Children, until capable of defending themselves in Remnant, are grimm magnets who provide nothing except love which, as established, Raven doesn't prioritize. She cares about things that will keep her alive, not things that make that life emotionally rich. A child is a wonderful addition... provided you care about that bond more than you care about the effort and, in Remnant's case, the danger a child poses. Raven doesn't seem the type for me. 

So I imagine our timeline is something like:

Raven joins Beacon with an intent to learn how to kill huntsmen

Over four years Qrow changes his views. Maybe she does too, though not as much

Ozpin offers magic (magic!!) to help in this war and Raven grabs the chance to become more powerful with both hands

She has a relationship with Tai

Has Yang, for whatever reasons of her own

Goes back to run her tribe, perhaps already pulling out of the war, or perhaps with one foot still in the door. Either way, she’s not about being a mother 

At some point Summer disappears. This may have clued Raven even more into how dangerous this war is

Finds out about Salem, perhaps via the mysterious missing Jinn question (or others like the Spring Maiden and Lionheart found out from that and Raven learned second-hand)

Completely nopes out of the war from here on out, if she hadn’t 100% left already, because she's all about survival and you definitely don't survive by fighting an immortal enemy. This includes eliminating all contact with her team and family, outside of getting info from Qrow

Gets ahold of the Spring Maiden at some point, killing her to make herself even more powerful 

Is approached by her daughter for a portal and tries to talk some "sense" into her, much like she occasionally does with Qrow 

Joins up with the baddies in an effort to keep herself safe from Salem

Realizes the Relic is actually a danger, so let's Yang have it instead

Goes to Tai for either unknown reasons, or just escaping the vault via his portal, with no intention of stopping to say hi

But if she did, she no doubt had some reason that involved keeping herself safe

All of which is taken with a grain of salt given RWBY’s, uh... less than logical timeline lol 

[yusuke96universe]

Turles and Lord Slug Team Up Pitch

Introduction

Hello guys, after watching MasakoX's What If Turles Turned Good parts 1 and 2 [which act more like an origin story for him within the frameworks of modern Dragon Ball similar to Super Broly] I thought I would share an old headcanon origin I had for another Dragon Ball Z movie Villain, Lord Slug and how it could make for an excellent part in this What If story that has captured my imagination. Also, it opens up a lot of potential avenues for ood DBZ storytelling.

I know he's considered one of the most uninteresting Villains in the franchise since he is essentially King Piccolo from space, but rushed in an hour long movie. Let's face it, a lot of DBZ villains aren't inherently interesting characters and usually are introduced as Pure Evil tropes

Trope Talk: Pure Evil https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1-XprjlATEo

Irrelevant backstory

very simple motivation

enthusiastic, zestful villainy

Pure self-confidence

Third -Act Breakdowns (where they are faced with what they truly fear and usually fail)

Afterward, they could be open to becoming a more nuanced character to explore as we've seen done time and again with cast of redeemed or evolved villains in Dragon Ball

A lot of the movie villains from the franchise would be more interesting if they weren't rushed or were expanded on and boy does Lord Slug bring a lot to the table if he is expanded on.

1) You could have Turles and Lord Slug form a dynamic duo that counterparts Goku and Piccolo. Turles is a trouble-making youth-filled underdog who has taken a shine to the crabby old man that is Slug. Turles could use a lot more modern methods to contrast Slug's far more traditional warmongering that he's developed over the centuries. (They did it a little in Xenoverse 2, but you could really expand upon it in a MasakoX styled What If) Plus, the Tree of Might likely has the ability to restore Lord Slug's youth since it canonically resurrected fossils, so Turles literally has the solution to Lord Slug's main problem plaguing him and is an open-minded businessman by nature. This hypothetical team-up of working together to gain more power, invade planets for their resources and overthrow the Universal order by killing Frieza before returning to enemies, acts as an inverse counterpart of Goku's and Piccolo's initial alliance against the Saiyans invading the Earth interfering with Piccolo's own conquest, but opened the doors for change in him and others.

2) Most likely these 2 would start off as enemies and have their forces face off against one another, but this struggle is a good thing in the long run because they could potentially provide each other, their own personal Third Act Breakdowns or at least teach each other recognize their own flaws and weaknesses to help each other grow as characters.

Lord Slug's backstory, retooled

Planet Slug

The most fun thing I found was that they gave Turles a proper origin story to build a character around, well I have a suggestion for a similar concept for Lord Slug that I think you guys could use in many different ways, but before that. Here are the facts. In the backstory I found in supplemental materials, it is stated by Guru that Lord Slug and other Evil Namekians could have possibly escaped the crisis on Namek and moved to far-flung planets in other parts of the Universe. One Super Namekian named himself after the Demon inhabited world he found himself on, known as Planet Slug. And judging from the movie, Planet Slug is most likely an icy or snow-covered planet since the Demons needed special suits to withstand the Earth's temperature.

By the way, I imagine that Planet Slug and its people could have a Mongolian theme. (I have a sketch I did for an alternate costume for Slug, but I don't remember how to post atm)

If say Lord Slug came to this planet and eventually took it over in the King Piccolo style, then I could see him having birthed a clan of Evil Namekian children to help him in this endeavor. So let's say there are about as many Namekians children as Guru or King Piccolo birthed, then they are likely different clans of Namekians on the Planet, including a Dragon Clan member capable of creating their own set of Dragon Balls. In this way, Planet Slug could act as an alternate substitute for Planet Namek, but one closely resembling how the team initially pictured Namek as a planet full of evil Piccolos, instead of the peace-loving farmers of Namek. Now, why would Slug be in space expanding his Empire and searching for Dragon Balls when his planet likely already has a set? In the movie, it's best not to think about it, but here is my idea.

Why Lord Slug is REALLY in Space

One of Lord Slug's offspring usurped him from the throne due to his old age and sickly body. So Slug was humiliatingly forced to flee his home or was looked down on as a non-threat banished him and his most loyal men off-world to live in shame and to never be seen again. So he is conquering other planets, partly because he is a refugee, but mostly because he is overcompensating for his lost and trying to help his ego by living in denial and reassuring that He is the Baddest Baddie who ever lived and terrorize/kill those weaker than him as he ever expands his empire, lamenting his old age and sickened body. He believes that if he was in his prime, he could take his throne back no problem and make them all pay for wronging him. Luckily, Slug doesn't need the Dragon Balls to regain his youth. If the Tree of Might's Fruit is capable of reviving fossils, it should be able to restore the Super Namekian to his former glory once again.

Turles's Crusher Corps vs Lord Slug's Army

A fun way they could introduce the factions to each other is as competition for a lush planet. Turles wants it for the Tree of Might, and Slug wants to freeze it for them for their conquest. They both are in each other's way, so they all fight it out. I think Slug has stronger minions, but Crusher Corps have better teamwork, and with Turles being in prime fighting condition, he would tip the scale in their favor much like Goku did in the movie.

At first, I thought Slug wouldn't be much of a match for Turles in his old and sickly state, a little trouble sure since he is the strongest, but that aged body wouldn't do him any favors. However, the first Google search result I got on Old Slug's Power level said he was at 79,000 so he's stronger than I first thought. (I thought he was around Nail's power level roughly in the 40,000) I also heard that Turles was around 19,000 but by the end of the movie was like 300,000. These power levels don't mean too much when reimagining the stories, just that Turles might have more of an uphill struggle. So, Turles would first have to eat some Fruit to win in a landslide and hopefully, the Terrafreezing process didn't ruin the Tree of Might's process.

Right before the killing blow, Old Slug might've mentioned something In desperation to save his own life. He could've brought up the Dragon Balls on his home Planet Slug/ Namek could grant any wish he wanted. This is just enough to stop Turles from following through with his attack, but it takes a little more coaxing for Slug to sell the legitimacy to Turles. A part of Turles thinks this might just be hogwash, but if this is anything like the Tree of Might, this could be a huge find. Another game-changer. He has his men take Slug with them as he checks in with the Heaters' database and finds there could be a kernel of truth to this tall tale. So Turles generously spares the old Slug's life for this useful tip which is met with some impatient ire.

If you hate being old so much, why don't you just use these Dragon Balls of yours to make yourself young again? -Turles

I would if I could, but... but I can't. I've been banished from my homeworld by my own children after they usurped me from my throne.-Slug

hahaha So you're just some washed-up old geezer trying to feel tough by throwing your power around at a bunch of weaklings. -Turles

Watch it! If I was in my prime, I wouldn't have ever let that rebellion get that far and even made short work of you and your men. If it weren't for that Fruit of yours, you'd be nothing. -Slug

WHAT WAS THAT. (composes himself) Interested in the Fruit are you, well I am not naive enough to let you ever sink your rotten teeth in one. At least, not for free. We, the Crusher Corps, are branched off of the Heaters' group who are known to deal in intelligence. If you have some more valuable information to pass on then, I could be convinced to trade off a leftover Fruit from our latest venture. Do you have anything else to offer me, old man?

(Slug’s low growling sounds are giving Turles just the biggest shit-eating grin on his face)

Slug could tell Planet Slug's coordinates, could act as their guide, or how to use their Dragon Balls, or even that they need a native speaker to use them and a password.

Turles throws him a Fruit as he is a businessman and honors his deals. This not only works in reviving the Elder Namekian, but the results are far better than expected by restoring Slug to his prime. Turles is both impressed and a little unnerved by this so he opens up a dialogue as he scans Lord Slug's new power. (he thought it would add a few decades back onto his old life since he seemed ancient, but it straight up made him young again) They discuss what had just happened and Turles's operation using the Tree of Might's Fruit to amass enough power for him and his men to kill Frieza and possibly overthrow him. Lord Slug in the meantime has been enjoying his youthful appearance and renewed vigor during the conversation, not looking Turles in the eye, but still expressing interest in this operation and compliments the plan. Turles offers a proposition to Lord Slug to join them on this endeavor if he helps them get those "Dragon Balls" he mentioned right before.

That's right. You're interested in the Dragon Balls, are you? Well, I am interested in that Tree of yours. It could keep someone young and strong forever, and this whole operation of yours is simply remarkable! -Slug

So you're in? -Turles

Remarkable enough for me to take it for myself! So I'll be doing just that! - Slug

Round 2 Super Namekian Rampages

The Super Namek overwhelms all of them, even Turles, after just eating a bunch of fruit, the gap is just too wide. He sadistically tortures them and strikes fear into their hearts. Turles isn't just put on the backfoot, he ends up on the brink of life and death. He needs to reach down deep, and something in him snaps, could be his Saiyan pride, could be becoming helpless and at someone else's mercy, could even be one of his men, that unbeknownst to himself, he had grown fond of perished, his regret for overly relying on outside gains to accomplish his ambitions. Don't know, don't care, but something doesn't sit right with Turles and this something acts as the catalyst for him to transform, but not into the traditional Super Saiyan we've all come to know. No, Turles goes into the False Super Saiyan state and overwhelms the Super Namek almost beat for beat like FSSJ Goku vs Slug from the movie, but this time, it lasts the duration of the fight. It's more of a SSJ Goku vs Frieza kind of fight with Turles's victory.

Turles diet of Tree of Might fruit has affected his body's genes and so when he transforms it's not the traditional SSJ form like everyone else, but the False Super Saiyan state that Goku used against Lord Slug. (The Saiyan loses their pupils and also uses SSJ's original color scheme with the flickering red and black hair and the orange skin with a lingering Aura effect) They could have a lot of fun with the benefits and drawbacks this form and its potential evolutions could have. False SSJ potentially falls into the theme of using Fruit as a shortcut to power vs earning the power legitimately or as a simple means to contrast with Goku.

Post Fight ~ Alliance?

Slug doesn't die though, or if he does, Turles is smart enough to revive him with the Tree of Might's extract in a similar way as the fossilized twins were. The reason is simple, Turles believes that Slug's knowledge of his people is going to be essential in the nearby future, and since he's shown whose boss by dominating the Super Namekian, they can now work together to overthrow stronger enemies like Frieza by using his Planet's Dragon Balls. The Crusher Corps gets a guide and an ally; Slug gets his revenge and the prospect of taking Frieza's empire for himself by joining this operation is too much for him to pass up. This is a temporary truce to defeat stronger opponents and gain power, but once that is over, they are going back to killing one another similar to how Goku and Piccolo formed an alliance against the Saiyans invading earth.

1) A Super Namekian could exploit their race's fusion ability through some method of Mind Control like in the original Broly movie. So Slug or his evil offspring could literally absorb one another or even someone as powerful as Nail or Piccolo if the influence is strong enough to join together. And Turles with the Heaters' resources might just be able to provide a means to provide Slug this, with some precautions of course.

2) Slug might have knowledge of Kai and Demon Realms considering he is both an older Namekian like Guru, and the fact that he Planet Slug is literally inhabited by Demons, a different breed of Demons, but still Demons nonetheless. In the games, the Tree of Might's Fruit had its effects amplified in the Demon Realm, but the same might be said if the Tree is planted on the World of the Supreme Kais or Beerus' planet. It's just a possible option for later down the line, but if there was ever a planet that could sustain that Tree and boosts its effects it would be one of these places.

This is it, I know MasakoX likes to do the space opera thing with multiple factions and also like to mix things up from the original story from time to time, so I thought Planet Slug would be an interesting means to do so and giving Turles a partner to bounce off of is typical Toriyama writing, could even open up new avenues to explore.

Am I expecting this to happen. Honestly, I have low expectations MasakoX and his team would do this and they got their own plans of inserting Turles into the main story likely connected to the character in the hood (who is probably Zamasu for some reason like in the Gero What If) or one of the Saiyans from Turles' team or even eager to get him into the main story with the Z-Cast, possibly trying to win Gohan to his side, but getting converted by him like what happened to Piccolo, but I don't mind. My expectations are low, but my hype is through the roof, and needed to share my fan theories with someone.

[babysizedfics]

Pink Crayons and Pinky Promises - Part 1

Summary: Being a super cool big brother is hard work sometimes. Especially when you don’t feel as big as usual, Vee doesn’t feel as little as usual, you parents are asleep, your baby sister’s pullup needs changing, you both need breakfast, you don’t know where crayons come from, and you miss your Mommy. But Mommy always calls Roman a clever little boy, so he’s gonna try to deal with all that stuff anyway! That can’t be too hard, right?

Word count: 4.9k

Take me to part 2! (There’s another link at the end of this part!)

Also on AO3!

oOo

The carpet brushed against Roman’s feet as he dragged them back and forth, over and over again. He smiled and wiggled on his butt a little where he was sitting on the floor. Then he rubbed his feet over the carpet again. Back and forth. Back and forth, really fast!

Daddy called them happy feet, and Mommy said it was stimming. Roman didn’t really care what it was called. He just liked doing it! It made his chest less stuffy and his fingers less tingly. He liked doing it when he felt bored, or when he felt bubbly, or sometimes when he felt weird.

This morning was kind of weird. Last night Mommy didn’t feel good and Daddy had to look after him while Nana came to their house to look after Vee. That was okay though because Roman was a super big brother and helped look after the baby! He was really helpful and at bedtime he even let Vee sleep in his bed because she didn’t like sleeping alone. Daddy and Mommy were gonna be so proud when they found out what a responsible big brother Roman was!

But since Roman woke up this morning, he didn’t feel that big anymore. Vee was still asleep in Roman’s bed and Mommy and Daddy were still asleep in Mommy’s bed and Nana must have gone back to his house after Roman and Vee fell asleep. So that meant Roman was all alone right now.

Roman was never really on his own, except if he was awake way past bedtime or when he really wanted to be and yelled at everyone to leave him alone… But right now he didn’t want to be alone! He wanted Mommy to play with him and Daddy to call him nice names and Vee to copy him and laugh when he did something funny.

It wasn’t a good idea to wake anyone up, though, so Roman decided to make the most of his time alone! He played his car game, like, five times already. He put coffee in his sippy cup and finished it. And since he didn’t have his parents around to tell him not to, he even snuck his toothbrush out of the bathroom to chew it!

Exactly why Roman wasn’t allowed to chew his toothbrush was completely lost on him. It was like he was brushing his teeth extra! And it tasted good and felt nice in his mouth and when he grinded his teeth on the bristly bits it made a really cool crunchy sound that filled his ears and made him rub his feet on the carpet even faster! Mommy and Daddy clearly just didn’t understand fun when they saw it. Roman thought he was a genius to discover how nice it was to chew his toothbrush. So he wouldn’t be ashamed of it anymore! If anyone asked him about it he would just tell them to mind their own business!

“Wo, what are you eatin’?” a small voice asked.

Roman yanked the toothbrush out of his mouth and let it fall inside his sleeve. It left a yucky wet trail on his wrist and it made his face scrunch up a little, but Roman quickly shook the feeling off and looked over at the bed.

Vee was sitting up against the headboard and rubbing her eyes tiredly. “We’re not allowed lollipops without asking Daddy or Mummy first.”

Good, Vee didn’t realise it was Roman’s toothbrush. And fae sounded half little going by faer voice and what fae called Patton and Logan! Fae was way easier to argue with when fae was only half little. (Mostly because fae actually understood what he was saying.)

“Yeah, well Daddy and Mommy aren’t awake yet, so.” Roman stuck his tongue out at his sister.

“Hey!” Vee whined and her lip stuck out. She kind of looked like she would cry. Roman really hoped she didn’t or he might be in trouble. Luckily she only said: “I’m gonna tell Daddy you eated sweets without asking and sticked your tongue out at me!”

Ugh, what a tattletale. Apparently Roman had no choice.

He rolled his eyes and pulled the toothbrush out from his sleeve. “Fine, I wasn’t eating candy, look.” Despite his greatest efforts, Roman’s cheeks grew warm when he showed Vee his chewed up toothbrush. He bit his lip and asked her quietly, “You won’t tell Mommy or Daddy, right?”

Vee’s eyes darted to the door, her lips twisted, then her gaze flitted back to Roman. She looked undecided.

“I promise I won’t let you get in trouble for it,” Roman quickly added. But Vee still looked a little anxious, so Roman kept going: “A-and I can cut up some watermelon for breakfast!”

A big smile broke out on Vee’s face, then it went blurry. She was bouncing up and down on her butt and squealing.

Roman knew that would do it! He laughed and rubbed his feet quickly on the carpet. This was fun! “Deal, Vee-Vee?”

Vee bounced up from the bed and tiptoed over to Roman’s spot on the carpet quickly. She dropped to sit on the floor next to him and nodded with a big smile. “Okay, deal!” Her eyes wandered over the toys on the carpet.

“Did you wanna play with me?” Roman asked, his tummy bubbling with excitement. Vee was hardly ever big enough to play with him! This was the best morning ever!

Vee nodded, but her smile dropped a little after looking at Roman’s cars. Then she pulled her thumb up to her mouth. “Um, yeah… But I’m not allowed to play cars, am I? You said I get it wo-w-wo—” She paused and frowned at herself, looking like she was thinking super hard. “I get it… wong.”

“Good job, Vee,” Roman whispered with a smile that was quickly returned. (Daddy said it was good to make Vee feel good when she tried to make her voice work better, even if she didn’t always get the words right.) “And you don’t get it wrong but…” Roman looked at his cars—his absolute favourite toys that had to be played with in a really specific, special way—and bit his lip again. “Um, but I bet we can play another fun game without my cars!”

That made Vee smile again, so Roman thought that must have been a very clever idea. He was full of those!

“Cool!” he yelled a bit too loudly, because it made Vee startle. But then fae giggled and whispered “cool” back so Roman didn’t worry too much. “F-then we—we can—we—” Roman swallowed some spit before continuing, “We—we can play, um, um… the Knight and Princess game!”

Vee’s pink-painted fingernail went between faer teeth. “Okay, um, can we play it without the dwagons and evil wizard though?”

What a silly question! “Vee,” Roman chuckled and shook his head. “Of course we can’t!”

“Oh…” Vee slipped her finger between her lips and sucked it like a baby.

“A eminent of danger is essential to the Knight and Princess game,” Roman explained (even though it was really obvious). “If there weren’t any dragons or evil wizards then I wouldn’t have anything to save you from!”

Vee’s pigtails bounced and swished when she cocked her head to the side. “W-w-what’s a ‘emimenp’?”

What a silly question! “Eminent! It’s a big kid word, it means…” Roman blinked. Mommy used the word a few days ago and Roman asked what it meant and tried really hard to remember so he could use it around Mommy to make him proud. But he couldn’t really remember what Mommy told him it meant, he just remembered Mommy calling him a smart little boy for asking questions. It would be cool if Mommy was here to call him smart now…

Roman nibbled his toothbrush then spoke around it quietly, “It means, like, a thing.”

It made Roman feel a bit better to see his little sister nodding with big eyes. “That’s a weally big word,” she breathed, clearly impressed.

There was that nice bubbly feeling in his tummy again and Roman sat taller.

Then Vee kept talking. “Um, but I weally don’t wanna play it with the baddies…” 

“How come?” Roman complained, slouching in his seat. That was no fun!

Vee wiggled and instead of looking next to Roman’s face, her eyes dropped to her lap. Her cheeks went the same colour as her nails. “W-w-w-well, w-w—” she shook her head quickly and changed her voice to a whisper. “It’s just—It’s a bit scawy. And Mummy isn’t here to make it less scawy?” Vee’s voice went high and squeaky at the end. Then she pulled one of her pigtails forward and hided behind it.

Sometimes Roman forgot how much of a crybaby Vee could be. It got kind of annoying when he just wanted to play but Vee started crying and Daddy or Mommy or Nana told him off because it was ‘too loud’ or ‘too scary’ or ‘too much of a safety hazard’. Then again, Vee getting scared all the time just meant Roman got to be a cool, strong, protective big brother all the time. So it wasn’t all bad.

“Okay, we don’t have to play that one!” he quickly reassured her like a good big brother. He even put down his toothbrush and holded her hand and she squeezed his fingers! “We could play Tag or Mermaids,” (but maybe without the sharks) “or Pooh cards or Hide ‘n’ Seek or—”

Oh no! Roman’s empty hand flew up to his mouth and he stopped talking. But it was too late.

There were already shiny tears in Vee’s eyes. Fae pulled faer hand out of Roman’s to hug faer knees to faer chest.

“I’m sorry, I-I-I forgot!” Roman quickly whispered. He felt really, really bad. It was super important to not mention Hide and Seek to Vee, Mommy and Daddy said. It always made her sad because of what happened last time. “It’s okay, baby, we never ever have to play that one ever again, I promise!”

Vee whimpered. Then she lifted her little finger in between their faces. It was kinda shaky. “Pinky pwomise?” she whispered really quiet.

Roman wrapped his bigger pinky around Vee’s smaller one. “Pinky promise,” he said very seriously. Pinky promises were no joke.

Then there was a loud growl that made Vee gasp. Faer pinky squeezed Roman’s so tight it kinda hurt. But then fae let go a little and looked down at faer tummy. It growled again.

Roman burst into laughter, and it was quickly followed by Vee’s giggles.

“I’m hungry too,” he said, mainly to help Vee not feel embarrassed. “Let’s go have breakfast!”

“But, um, I thought we were gonna play somethin’?”

That was a good point… Luckily, Roman was really creative and clever! “We can play while we eat! I think I left my colouring stuff downstairs yesterday.”

“Okay!” Vee squeaked. Then she rolled on her tummy and crawled to the bed, using the bedpost to help pull herself up from the floor. The rustly pink bit of her pullup poked out from the back of her pyjama pants as she stood.

“Oh!” Roman remembered a very important thing, then grabbed his toothbrush and stood up too so he didn’t feel smaller than Vee. Daddy and Mommy usually checked the very important thing, but they weren’t here which meant Roman had to be a good big brother and help his baby sister! So he asked the very important thing: “Is your pullup wet?”

But it didn’t seem like it helped much. It just made Vee pout and pull the front of her pyjama shirt down. Kinda like if she was trying to hide her pullup. But that was silly! It wasn’t like Roman had x-ray vision to see through her pyjamas!

“I’m not gonna laugh or anything,” Roman promised, then repeated softer, “Is it wet?”

It took a few seconds for Vee to nod silently. Her cheeks were super pink.

“Okay, then you can go change your pullup while I put my cars away!”

“No!”

Roman’s mouth dropped open a little. Vee never did that! He looked down at faer grumpy face and frowned. “Vee, Daddy always gets you a new pullup if it’s wet, but he’s still asleep. And you don’t like me being there when you get a diaper change, right?”

Vee looked even grumpier just hearing it.

Just like Roman thought! He nodded to himself. “So then I can’t help you either. You gotta get a new one yourself.”

Vee’s pigtails bounced really fast this time because she was shaking her head lots.

The light, bubbly feeling in Roman’s chest was now a hard, squeezy feeling. This was way harder than it looked when Daddy did it. He didn’t really know what to do when his little sister didn’t listen to him.

“But…” Roman gripped his toothbrush handle tightly, then started chewing the bristly bit again. It made his voice kinda muffled, but he was still a big boy and could talk good. “But Daddy always—”

“No,” Vee whined, “I don’t wanna!” Faer thumb went in faer mouth and fae sucked it like a baby. “Don’ wanna, d-don’ wanna.” Faer voice was all high-pitched and wobbly… like fae was gonna cry.

“Okay! Okay, that’s cool!” Roman blurted, yanking his toothbrush from his mouth so fast it scratched his gums. He licked the scratch then carried on before Vee got any closer to tears, “You don’t hafta change your pullup. Don’t cry, baby.”

Vee pulled her thumb out of her lips and hid it behind her back. “I’m not a baby wight now…”

Roman nodded even though Vee was kind of always a baby. Gotta keep the baby happy. “Okay, you don’t hafta be a baby either.”

Even though it didn’t feel like Roman handled that very well, at least Vee didn’t look like she was gonna start blubbering anymore. He didn’t like dealing with Vee when she was crying.

Then Roman thinked really hard to himself for a moment (as clever boys do). He had stopped Vee from crying this time, but Vee always cried even more when she wet herself. And Roman didn’t like it when the carpet or the couch got wet, especially when their parents weren’t there. Roman was only a little boy, he didn’t know how to clean Vee’s accidents! So… 

“But you gotta pinky promise you won’t have a accident ‘til Daddy changes your pullup.”

Vee nodded really hard and wriggled her pinky around Roman’s. “Pinky pwomise, no accidents!”

There, all fixed! Now they could just have fun!

oOo

Being little without Mommy or Daddy was fun, but it was also really tricky. Of course, if you’re a clever little boy like Roman that gives you an advantage. But it was still tricky, even for him!

There was lots of stuff he had to remember. Like when they got Vee’s spare paci from Roman’s drawer, Roman had to check if the sucky bit of the paci had fluff on it before Vee put it in her mouth. But that was easy!

And then they had to go downstairs, except they weren’t allowed to walk on the stairs when they were little and alone. That’s what Mommy and Daddy always reminded him. So Roman had the genius idea to slide down the stairs on their butts! He made sure to hold Vee’s hand the whole time—not because he was scared of falling or anything! Just because that’s what big brothers do. And to be an extra amazing big brother, Roman even let Vee hold his hand after they were off the stairs.

Making breakfast was definitely a grownup job, but Roman tried his hardest with that too. He was really careful pouring oat milk into both of their sippy cups and screwed the lids on super tight with Vee’s help holding them. It was hard ‘cause they were still holding hands. They spilled a small puddle of milk on the countertop but Vee slurped it up real quick, like a vacuum!

And when Roman poured the Cap’n Crunch into their divider plates (Roman’s being a cool, blue Spongebob Squarepants one and Vee’s being a babyish, pink Hello Kitty one) he only dropped 14 pieces of cereal on the floor! He counted them all by himself. Then he left them there so that later he could prove to Mommy that he counted them right. Plus he didn’t wanna touch icky floor food! (He didn’t let Vee suck up those like a vacuum even though fae really wanted to. Silly baby!)

The most tricky bit was when he cut the watermelon. There was no situation Roman could think of where he would be allowed to use a knife when he was little, so he just stopped being little for a few minutes to use the knife then carry everything (including Vee) into the living room. 

But now he was little again! Him and Vee were colouring pretty pictures for Mommy to help him feel better and they both had yummy melon and cereal and milk. They were having lots of fun and it was all because of how clever and responsible Roman was!

“Wow boo bay pink ob cwayom aim?”

Roman leaned up from where he was lying on his tummy and propped himself on his elbows to look at Vee. “Whadja say, Fee-Fee?” he asked around his toothbrush, giggling when it made his voice sound funny.

The paci that was bobbing in Vee’s mouth suddenly shot out of her mouth. It dropped to her lap with a long trail of drool.

“Eww!” Roman laughed. It made the scratch on his gums hurt, so he licked it again. “Why’d you spit it out?!”

Vee smiled, faer lip shiny with spit. “I had to get it out weally fast!” fae squeaked and wiggled on her butt. Then faer smile went away a bit and fae pulled her shirt down and stopped wiggling. “Um, I said h-how do they think of cwayon names?” fae asked quieter.

This kinda thing happened all the time. Since Roman was bigger and older and cleverer than his baby sister, she asked him lots of questions. But sometimes Roman didn’t know the answers… so he just thought up ones instead! It was fun, but only if Daddy and Mommy weren’t around to say he was wrong. It wasn’t about being right, it was about being creative!

And about tricking his silly baby sister.

Roman picked up the crayon he had been using on his drawing and inspected the label. ‘Forest Green’. 

Really quickly—so that Vee didn’t think he was lying or anything—Roman thought of an answer: “They name them after wherever they find them growing.”

Apparently that wasn’t a good enough answer for Vee. Her eyebrows went down and she said, “Nu uh, cwayons don’t g-gw-w-gw—” She shook her head to stop the stutter and tried again. “Cwayons don’t come on twees!”

“Well duh,” Roman rolled his eyes. “Not all of them at least. Otherwise they would all be named after trees. Crayons can show up anywhere.”

Vee’s eyes went wide and a giggle bubbled up in Roman’s chest, but he kept it there. It was cool to be smart. But it was even cooler to pretend you didn’t care about how smart you are—like Mommy! So Roman didn't pay attention to Vee’s reaction and just kept colouring and humming a song he heard in one of his cartoons.

“Anywhere?” Vee whispered after a bit.

Roman’s legs kicked and wriggled in the air behind him, but he kept looking at his drawing. Keeping it cool. “Yeah, Vee, didn’t you know that already?”

It went quiet for a while after that. The green crayon was making nice scratchy sounds as Roman coloured and his toothbrush was making nice crunchy sounds in his mouth. His gums were kinda hurting now, but he still wanted to chew his toothbrush so he just ignored it.

He nearly forgot what they were talking about before. That was until Vee tugged on his sleeve and Roman looked over at her.

“Where did they find this one?” Vee asked, shoving one of the pink crayons right under Roman’s nose. Her other hand tugged nervously at her pyjama shirt and her knees wiggled where she was sitting criss-cross-applesauce. She was looking at him like he was the cleverest person in the world, waiting for his answer.

A big smile stretched Roman’s lips (so big he had to take his toothbrush out!) and he grabbed the crayon quickly. He couldn’t keep Vee waiting, fae was depending on him!

He carefully read the label—’Jazzberry Jam’—then offered his wisdom. “Oh, that one’s easy. They found it in a jam jar.”

Vee’s mouth went in a little circle shape. “Ooh, like Mummy’s jam?”

“Yeah, exactly!”

“Wow!” Vee pulled the crayon close to her chest, kinda hugging it. “Does that mean it tastes like jam too?”

Roman’s throat felt tight because he wanted to laugh so bad. Keep it cool! “Why don’t you taste it and see?”

Even though Roman literally just told Vee to do it, he was still pretty surprised when Vee stuck out her tongue and dragged the crayon across it.

“What did it taste like?” he whispered with wide eyes. It was kind of exciting to think it might of tasted like jam!

Vee licked her lips and clicked her tongue. Then she pouted. “Jus’ like cwayon.”

“Aw, I thought it—uh, y-yeah, I knew it wouldn’t taste like jam,” Roman said, trying not to sound too disappointed. He shrugged his shoulders at Vee. “You need to check, y’know?”

Vee nodded solemnly. Then she hummed and started rifling through the other crayons she had left all over her scribbly paper.

“Mmm, what about… this one?”

Again, Roman accepted the crayon Vee held out to him and read the label. “Do you know what a carnation is?”

“Thas what Daddy gwows in the garden!”

“Yeah, so they found this crayon in one of Daddy’s flowers!”

“How d’you know that?”

“‘Cause it’s called Carnation Pink.”

“But how d’you know what it’s called?”

Roman sighed and pushed himself up from lying on the carpet. It was making his tummy hurt anyway. He swung his legs under him so he sat criss-cross-applesauce, and held the crayon up to Vee’s face.

“It says it on the label, see?”

Small, sticky fingers pulled Roman’s hand so close to Vee’s face that she went cross-eyed.

“Yuck, yuck,” Roman gasped and quickly pushed Vee’s hands off of his. He dropped the crayon on the floor and dragged his hand all over his pyjama shirt. The sticky melon juice made him feel gross! It made his head go jumbly and his fingers feel jittery. He whimpered and kicked his feet on the floor to try to shake off the ickies. “Vee, don’t get yucky stuff on me!” he whined.

Vee looked down at her hands confused. Then she giggled and held her palms up to Roman’s face. “Melon juice isn’t yucky!”

“It is! I don’t like it!” Roman cried, and didn’t like how his voice cracked. Tears suddenly made his eyes hot and burny, and he scrambled away from his baby sister.

Once he was a safe distance from the yucky, sticky melon juice, he hid his eyes behind his arm and squinted them tight real hard. One big, shaky breath. Another big, shaky breath. One more big, deep, steady breath. The tears were gone.

“Wo-Wo?”

After making sure he definitely wasn’t gonna cry like a baby anymore, Roman slowly looked over his arm to his sister.

Vee was hugging faer knees to faer chest and looking kinda scared. Fae pulled faer thumb out of faer mouth and whispered, “Weally sowwy for touchin’ you… Didn’t wanna make you cwy.”

“Am not!” Roman yelled, a bit too fast and a bit too loud and a bit too squeaky. His cheeks went hot. Then he tried to sound bigger and cooler. “I was—I was just focussin’ really hard.”

“Fucksin?”

Roman snorted loudly then hurriedly slapped his hand over his mouth. That made him feel a lot better already.

“Y-yeah, Vee,” he giggled, really hoping she used that word around Daddy later. That would be the funniest thing ever! “Yeah, I was ‘fucksin’ on, um… on the crayons!” He scooched back over to Vee. “I gotta focus real hard so I can read their names!”

“Weadin’?”

“Yeah, Vee, reading!”

That word made Vee really excited for some reason. Her hands started flapping and she squealed. “You a-a-a clever big kid!” she cheered excitedly and wiggled on her butt to sit closer next to Roman.

Roman’s chest went light and bubbly again! “Mhm, I’m a clever big kid ‘cause I can read!” He wanted to hold his little sister’s hand again, but it was yucky. So he put his arm around her and she put her head on his shoulder.

“A-a-a-a-am… A-a-a-a—” Vee cut herself off and growled a little. It was super small and soft though, like a kitten.

“You wanna try starting with a different word?”

Vee’s head nodded against him. “M-m-maybe I can wead too!”

Roman giggled. That was a silly idea! “Vee, you’re only a baby. Babies can’t read!”

“Not a baby wight now!” Vee looked up at Roman with her thumb between her lips and big pout.

“Oh yeah, I forgot,” Roman said, unconvinced. Then he frowned. “Hey, you’re not allowed to suck your thumb. Do you want your paci?”

Vee nodded but didn’t move or look any less grumpy, so Roman reached over and got it for her.

“There you go, baby,” Roman said when he pushed the sucky bit in Vee’s mouth. It made him giggle because she didn’t even realise he called her a baby.

“Fankoo,” Vee garbled around the paci.

Roman smiled. She was definitely a baby. But if she wanted to try reading then Roman could still be a good big brother and help her!

Luckily, the crayon Roman picked up from the carpet wasn’t sticky. He held it in front of Vee’s eyes again like the last one. “Okay, see there?” He pointed at the label. “It has letters on it, and that’s the name of the crayon! You just gotta read it out, then I can tell you where they found it.”

Vee took the crayon (gently this time) with a little hum.

“Can you tell me what it says, Titch?”

After a while of squinting at it, Vee tried to sound it out quietly. “M-m-mm… Ma… Mama?” 

That didn’t sound right.

“Can I see?” Roman held his hand out for the crayon.

Vee gave it to him then suckled faer paci real fast, staring at him. Waiting.

Roman read the label and blushed. “Um, you were close,” he giggled nervously. “It, um… It actually says ‘melon’.”

The paci made a pop sound when Vee pulled it out from her lips. “Wait, weally?”

“Yeah…” Roman smiled at his sister sheepishly. Then they both burst into giggles. How funny!

“Like our one!” Vee squealed.

The carpet went brush, brush, brush on Roman’s feet as he laughed. Nothing seemed so bad anymore! He barely even remembered why he was crying!

“I, um, I-I-I finished all my melon!” Roman bragged with a proud smile.

It was true! He was a big boy and he eated all his food and Daddy always told him how good that was. Which meant when he showed his empty plate to his caregivers later, they would definitely tell him how clever and well-behaved he was!

But Vee was only small, and that meant she had a smaller tummy. Roman could see Vee finished all her milk—that was her favourite—but there was still some melon and lots of cereal left on her plate. If Roman was gonna get told how good he was for eating his breakfast, he didn’t want Vee to miss out on it and be jealous!

“Vee-Vee, you gotta eat all yours too.”

Vee looked down at her plate, then back up at Roman with a pout. “All of it?” she whined.

Roman shrugged. He really didn’t care that much. “I dunno, just eat some.”

That cheered Vee up and she instantly smiled and reached for the food. Then her hand froze in mid-air.

“Wait…” She fidgeted with her pyjamas again. “Did you find any cwayons when you cut up the m-melon?”

Roman’s lips trembled with the effort not to laugh. He couldn’t let Vee think he was making fun of her.

“Nah, there weren’t any, I checked.” It made Vee’s shoulders relax… So Roman kept going, just ‘cause it was really fun. “They’re pretty rare actually—kinda like pearls in oysters. That’s why you probably haven’t seen any crayons growing in the wild before.”

Every word Roman said made Vee nod more strongly. “That makes sense,” she muttered, giving a final firm nod before grabbing a cube of watermelon without hesitation. With her bare fingers.

“Don’t you wanna use your baby fork?” Roman suggested with a grimace. It made Roman shiver just to look at the melon juice dripping all over Vee’s hands. He scooched further away from her.

Apparently Vee hadn’t heard Roman—or she just wanted to show him her answer instead of telling him. She squashed the melon against her mouth with her hand and held it there while she sucked it, looking at Roman with wide, innocent eyes. There was probably melon juice all over her face now. Gross!

“Okay, fine,” Roman sighed, picking his toothbrush back up and chewing it as he went back to his drawing. “Just don’t touch me or my drawing.”

oOo

Continues immediately in part 2! I just broke it up for readability and to give you a good place to take a break, get some water, go to the bathroom, and maybe even come back tomorrow if it's late for you and you're sleepy! The second chapter is a little longer and it will still be here when you're rested up <3

Take me to part 2!

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