#i like how i said but then immediately dunked

[hearts4court]

that concept always pissed me off cause like, it’s overused and unoriginal. also gives me pick me vibes ngl

This isnt meant to be hateful or to dunk on people who write like this, but I am so TIRED of people writing newsie fics with a fem!reader or oc thats like "im different, im a girl newsie" or "i had to dress up as a boy to be a newsie" or "its so hard to be the ONLY GIRL newsie", bc yes, there were no girls that explicitly played girl newsies in the movie or musical, but girl newsies DID exist!! You can literally search it up!! The only reason people didnt really notice a lot of girl newsies during the strikes was bc most of them became "scabbers", it payed better and you werent allowed to hit girls, so they got off scot free. But before and likely after that, there were probably just as many girl newsies as there were boys. You can argue that you use these as a plot device to build tension or to create conflict but PLEASE IT IS SO OVERUSED AND UNORIGINAL BY NOW. And your reader or character doesnt HAVE to be a newsie, they can have other professions and things that make them an interesting character.

[laddertek]

Etho immediately choosing Decked Out 2 (+Tango's reaction) xBCrafted's Season 10 Episode 17 Hermit Q&A

xB: So, question number three. What has been your favourite project, build, and/or event since joining HermitCraft? Etho: That I did? Or that other people did? xB: Uh, just, whatever. Whatever you...y'know, your favourite. Just, whatever. Etho: Oh, that's gotta be Decked Out 2, then. xB: Okay. (laughs) Etho: (laughs) Easy answer! xB: I mean, you only played it a little, though... Etho: Ahh, it was a few months. A few months of my life, there. Got a little bit involved. xB: (laughs) A couple minutes, here and there, you know. Etho: Yeah. xB: I know how you are. No. (laughs) ---- xB: I feel like your answer is gonna be the same as Etho's. Tango: Oh, did he say Decked Out? xB: Yes he did. (laughs) Tango: Ohhhh, my hero! Yeah, Decked Out is definitely my answer. Slam dunk. xB: I was like, 'Yeah, what do you mean? You only played, like, a little bit...' (both laugh) Tango: Well, that -- Honestly, the fact that he said that, means -- means everything to me. That's great, that he values it that high. That's great. That's great. xB: Oh, yeah, yeah. He was like, he was like, 'That's easy. Decked Out 2.' I was like, 'Okay!' (laughs) Tango: (laughs) Fantastic. Good! Good!

[leighsartworks216]

There Is No Love Purer Than Mine

Sylus x gn!Reader

Based on a video I can't find where a girl on one of those dating tv shows says "I love you" to a guy, and he asks her to repeat it again and again as his voice cracks. It's always stuck with me, and now I'm pulling it out of cold storage

Warnings: kissing, crying, declarations of love, mild hurt/comfort

Word Count: 625

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

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The words stole the air from your lungs. You stare at Sylus, wide-eyed and trying to remember how to breathe, while he has the audacity to lounge nonchalantly against the sofa and watch.

He smirks at your reaction. His arms are stretched along the back of the couch. His sweater steals the intimidation from his face and invites you to curl into his side. You had been, moments ago, but then he said… He said…

“What’s the matter, kitten?” he asks. It’s playful, but his arm falls to brush a hand against your cheek, betraying the real concern behind the bravado.

You swallow. Your voice comes out as a whisper, still breathless and shaky. “Say it again.”

His smirk softens into a smile. He brushes some hair behind your ear. “I love you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. “Again.”

This time, he sits forward. His other arm reaches out to hold your hand where it sits in your lap. He says it reverently. “I love you.”

It feels like your body has been dunked in a cold bath. Chills run up your arms. Your chest feels tight. He pulls your blanket tighter around you. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes. “Again…”

“I love you.” He leans forward until your foreheads touch. “I love you.” He cups your cheek and brushes away a tear with his thumb. His eyes never leave yours. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You close your eyes and lean into his touch - pressing your forehead insistently against his, tilting your face into his hand, shifting closer on the couch. Tears stick to your eyelashes before they fall down your cheeks. He brushes them away diligently. You squeeze his hand tightly.

“Is this okay?” he asks, voice low and gentle.

You nod immediately. His long fingers curl around your jaw, fingertips in your hair, holding you to him.

“I love you.”

It’s so soft you almost don’t feel it. The brush of his lips over yours. If you hadn’t feel his breath warming them, you wouldn’t have realized at all. You crack your eyes open to watch when you tilt your chin up, seeking a full, proper kiss.

He answers your demand. Stuttered and solid breaths merge, gasping every time your lips separate, preparing for the next moment they connect. Over and over. The salt of the popcorn clings to his lips, complimenting the salt of your tears. His tongue carries the distinct fruitiness of his wine as it seeks yours out. Tempered moans and sighs pass between each other.

When he pulls away, you strain your neck forward for more, but he presses his thumb to your lips instead. You blink your eyes open at him, glistening and red from crying.

For a second, you’re scared. Scared he’ll take it back. Scared he’ll toss you aside, laugh in your face, leave you behind. Scared he’ll leave a scar on your heart that will never fully mend.

But he doesn’t.

He kisses the corner of your mouth. Your cheek. Under your eye. Over your closed eyelid. When he pulls back, he doesn’t stray far.

“Come here, my beloved,” he coos as he pulls you into his side. You wrap your arms around his torso, bury your wet face into his sweater. He wraps both arms around you, too, a silent promise not to let go.

The movie is just background noise now. You have no idea what’s happening in the story and you can’t give a damn. When you rest your chin against him to look at his face, he’s not watching either.

“I love you…” you whisper, tentative. Testing the shark-infested waters and trusting he’ll save you.

And he does.

“I love you, too, kitten.”

---

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41

[webbluvrsugar]

babydaddy!JJ taking your son to the beach

JJ was laidback, laidback enough to forget that he was taking your little boy to the beach, laidback enough to arrive at 6:00PM at your place when your son has already been crying all day because his ‘daddy’ didn’t come, and when seeing the tearful look on the kid’s face, he could help but beg you to let him take him, almost getting down one one knee and saying “Please, I — I know I fucked up but he’s my son, aight? I can’t see him sad like that.” to convince you, doing everything to get you to let him take the boy, and when you finally do and grab your son’s little chubby hand, saying that in fact, his dad came, he was just a little too late, the boy light up immediately, letting out cheerful sounds when placed on top of his shoulders.

“Make sure he has fun.” You tell him, no, demand, because if he makes his day suck after forgetting he was even meant to come, you’ll probably kill him, and he knows it.

“I — I will.” He nods intensely, making sure you can see he’s regretful.

“And don’t let him eat rocks, nor sticks, or sand, or fuckin — bugs, don’t let him eat bugs.” You point a finger at him, your son pushes it away and makes a ‘pshhhh’ sound, definitely influence from his father while you frown and correct him.

“Hey, I’m not that bad of a father!” He raises his hands, the kid slightly tilting on his shoulders before he tugs JJ’s blonde locks.

“Whatever, get him here before nine.” You sigh.

JJ nodded again, gulping as he turns away from you. “Ready to go punch some sharks?” He asks your kid, he smiles brightly, lightly slapping on his father’s shoulders.

“Yeaa!!” He giggles, his tiny arms shooting at the sky, JJ hypes him up, completely ignoring your wish as you shout ‘No punching!!’ to them, closing the door when they walk away.

JJ makes sure the kid has a great day as you said, he rolls him on the sand until they’re all dirty, plays catch with him as if he’s a pup because he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, dunks the kid head first in the water, makes him fall by placing a foot in front of him, everything that he knows you would probably disapprove of before finally quieting down, gathering around some small wooden shop.

“Woaaaah look at that fucking board, buddy.” JJ whispers while dragging his kid closer to the store while they leave the beach. “Shit’s amazing!” He smiles in excitement, the little mini version of him smiles too.

“Shit’s amazing!” The toddler shouts, JJ immediately gets a frowny look from the cashier, as if reminding him directly of you, he gulps, stays silent before pulling the kid away.

“Yeah whatever, maybe let’s just… get you home to yo’mama.” He sighs, he can already feel that whenever they get to your place, he’s in trouble.

“Fucking board!” The kid repeats, flapping in excitement as he takes little steps towards the sand, his crocs long forgotten somewhere around the beach.

“Hey! Don’t say that again, and… start walking faster.” JJ picks up the kid on his arms, starting to run with the boy again.

When they get there, he’s got this huge, proud smile on his face, the boy’s hair is filled with sand, maybe a few tiny rocks, his clothes a bit wet too.

“Where are his crocs?” It’s the first thing you ask, tilting your head and raising a brow.

“Donated.” JJ smirks.

“To where?” You take a step forward.

“The ocean.” He chuckles, the kid leaves his grasp to stand at your side as you roll your eyes. “But hey, got him here before nine.” He points out.

You scoff, kneel down before your kid before asking him: “Did you have fun?” You smile and he nods, one hand coming to rub a mix of sand and dirt off his cheek. “Yeah? How was it?” You ask again, just to make sure, a little smile peers at his lips.

“Shit’s amazing!” He repeats, clapping and giggling before looking at his father.

You give JJ one short glance, he can feel his mood — and pride — fade right before your eyes.

“Yeah…. real rude woman at the beach, kept cursing, you wouldn’t believe it if you saw it,” he pauses, grabbing your face and pressing a peck to your lips as he slowly walks back.

“Which is why I have to go and you just… correct our little champ.”

taglist: @nemesyaaa

[neo-nomatrix]

Drunk words are sober thoughts

Hobie Brown x reader

Part three of the My Nuisance mini series. Find the other parts here

word count: 959

Synopsis: Hobie forgets everything he told you last night. Thank you @good-so for the inspo!!

When you woke up Hobie was gone. You were surprised you didn’t hear his obnoxious boot buckles clicking when he left. In fact you were surprised he left at all. He basically confessed his love and the fact he was Spiderman to you last night.

You needed time to process everything, make sure none of it was a fever dream. As soon as you woke up (and gathered your thoughts) you trudged over to Hobies flat. You knocked on the door similar to how Hobie always did, part of you was angry that he had left you but you would rather die than let him know he got to you.

“Hobie? You in there?!” You yell pressing your ear against the door.

As you lean into the door it opens up, he had left the door unlocked and didn’t even fully close it. You stepped into the rather dark flat and admired the decorations. He had a way of making everything look like a punk rock magazine, despite the chaos it was cleaner than you had anticipated. You searched throughout the flat trying to find him but it was clear he wasn’t there.

Eventually you came across a small box decorated with photos of the London bridge and bright colors. You didn’t mean to snoop around, really, but you just couldn’t help yourself. Inside were five things: three letters, a ring, and a necklace. You had recognized the ring and necklace, they were yours. You had lost both of them by mistake about a week ago but assumed they were long gone. As you thought about it more you realized something like that happened often, you would lose something of yours and a week later they would up outside of your door with a note attached to it.

Usually saying “You’re quite clumsy, love - Hobie”

It hadn’t occurred to you why he had found so many of your things until now.

You looked at one of the letters, and sure enough it said “You just keep losing stuff don’t you? Good thing i’m here to save the day -Hobie” You smile to yourself thinking about the fact that he would probably give you this tomorrow.

The second letter was from you. The first time you had ever told him to turn down his music. As you read it you realized how much you had changed from the first time you met him. You were so polite in the letter, the fact you had taped a letter to his door instead of screaming at him was polite in itself. After that first letter you don’t think you have ever said “please” and “thank you.” From then on it was mostly you stomping over to his flat and yelling while he stood there amused.

The last letter was addressed to you. And it was double sided, either this boy has a lot of baggage or he was really in love with you. You felt awful reading it though. You started at the first words for a while “For my Love,” until the lights switched on.

“You’re breaking into my house now? That’s cheeky init?” He smirked. God he is so stupid, and what British person actually says init?

“The door was open. I was… just checking to see no one like a robber had broken in,” you replied.

“Right, and you also wanted to make sure that box wasn’t broken into?” he replied.

You immediately set it down.

“I haven’t read any of it, promise,” you smiled

“Yet, you haven't read any of it yet,” he finished for you.

“So, about last night?” you bring up. Hoping he’ll want to talk about it.

“Right… uhm, i don’t really remember any of it? So whatever i said don’t pay any attention. I’m a compulsive liar when I get wasted,” he shrugs.

Oh. He didn’t remember anything he said. And he’s also a dunk liar. Cute. You were still slightly convinced he’s spiderman, though. He showed you the suit and the mask, which weren’t exactly replicas to your knowledge. And trust, you knew your spiderman suit replicas. But the other stuff?

The stuff about you hurting his feelings and him being in love with you? Yeah, you were almost one hundred percent sure those were lies. You don’t know why you were convinced with one but not the other. You just did.

“Yeah, of course,” you looked sad.

“But I should get going,” you said after a moment of silence.

“Right, we’ll uhm, see you,” he said.

You nodded before looking down at the ground, walking off without being able to look into his eyes.

You shut the door to your flat faster than you ever have before.

“Oh my lord,” you whispered to yourself.

Gods, if that wasn’t the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you. You didn’t even know what you were thinking, you had to be mental, right? Going into Hobies flat while he wasn’t around? And he caught you? You could never show your face again.

While you’re in your flat panicking your mind out, Hobie is filled with anxiety. He’s racking his brain trying to remember what happened last night and why he woke up in your bed. Did he say something horrible? Did he confess his deepest secrets to you? The answer was yes, but he didn’t know that yet. He only left early because Miguel had pinged his watch with some stupid mission.

“The fate of the multiverse is at stake,” or something like that.

He knew he had to talk to you again. Picking up the box he pulled out the ring. Admiring the way it glimmered in the fluorescent lights.

Throwing away the note that came with it, he knew exactly how to start a conversation.

Taglist!! @clown420cunt @good-so @anonima-2 @gh0stsp1d3r @miracleboylene @natthernandez @frenchbaddie @loislucky @juo6uvr @gaychaosgremlin @skiedrr @the-golden-goldie @hellok1ttycake @theleftkittycollection @xbl00dy-r0s3x @diamondroxypie

[greenconverses]

As I've mentioned a few times times, one of the actual interesting things Riordan is doing in this new series is mentioning Percy's obvious rage issues and then not actually doing anything with it other than making Percy swallow the anger down so he stays Nice and Controlled at all times.

Which, if we were dealing with pre-Disney+ show deal RR, could be a great character arc over the course of the series where Percy learns to actually deal with his anger and trauma while he's actively being triggered by petty godly bullshit. But Wrath made it pretty clear he's okay with letting Percy eat shit emotionally as long as everyone is one big happy team in the end and we're Therapy Speaking ourselves into the sunset, so I don't think that's happening.

Wrath sets up a conflict between Grover and Percy that's pretty simple: Grover eats a magical thing he's specifically told not eat and causes chaos that puts Percy's quest at risk. Reminder, these stupid quests are so Percy can get into college and Grover knows this. Percy gets angry at Grover; so angry Annabeth can see it and shoos him out of the room so he doesn't explode. And then he just... tries to stop being angry, assumes Grover means well, and carries on pretending it's not Grover's fault while being resentful because it's totally Grover's fucking fault.

Eventually, we get a scene where Grover attempts to make things right by putting himself into danger and Percy freaks out because, duh, he doesn't want his friends to get hurt. Grover then attempts to apologize by admitting he maybe sorta kinda subconsciously wanted to sabotage things. And it's here where we run in to trouble.

Please notice that Percy immediately tries to reassure him that he's not responsible despite Grover acknowledging it. Then we get the good ol' Grover tears and looking like a poor bullied baby before he confesses to sabotaging his best friend's quest because he doesn't want to be left behind. And with that, all of Percy's anger is gone because how can you be mad at your friend for that?

Uh, pretty fucking easy, especially if my idiot satyr friend knows exactly what the consequences of failing the quest is (forget the college letters; Percy is under the assumption that Hecate will unmake him if he fucks up) AND said idiot frequently has gone MONTHS without seeing me because of his job and, in fact, several months from now will be halfway across the country anyway helping Apollo with some different quest bullshit!!!!

I digress.

Suddenly, Percy is the bad guy for being mad at Grover. And this continues with the next part of the conversation.

How hard it's been on him?????

Percy Jackson, you are constantly blowing literal gaskets because of the stress you are under, and you're worried about how hard college applications has been on GROVER???????

"I'm the one who should be apologizing. I should have been thinking about how you felt rather than stressing about getting into college."

"I'm the one who should be apologizing. I should have been thinking about how you felt rather than stressing about getting into college."

"I'm the one who should be apologizing. I should have been thinking about how you felt rather than stressing about getting into college."

like

are you kidding me here rick

are you FUCKING kidding me

PERCY needs to APOLOGIZE to GROVER for PRIORITIZING COLLEGE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

And then Grover makes a joke about Percy's shitty gpa because dunking on Percy in an emotional conversation is totally fine because his emotions don't actually matter to any of his friends. He'll get over it! He's Percy, duh. He's not a ticking time bomb of resentment full of grudges whatsoever.

I think we're supposed to see this as Percy maturing and being forgiving, but is he? He doesn't tell Grover he forgives him. Percy's the one apologizing in the end because he's been guilted into feeling bad that Grover is sad/upset and put himself in danger. The conflict doesn't actually get resolved because Percy brushes it aside; it doesn't matter any more because Grover is sad and must be reassured. No one's going to learn anything from this because there have been no consequences. Grover's gonna do some dumb shit again, Percy's gonna get mad at him, Grover will cry and make up a sad sack excuse, and Percy will stop being angry because Grover's his bestie and what else is he supposed to do?

(This could be a good character arc about how Percy's fatal flaw makes him have a really messed up view of friendships and the meaning of loyalty, but again, we will be denied.)

And for the record, just because your friends have compelling reasons for their shitty actions doesn't make them any less shitty. It doesn't mean they shouldn't apologize for their fuck ups or negate the hurt they caused you. Forgiveness needs to be earned, not manipulated out of you through tears and reckless actions.

Grover can get fucked. I hate this fucking character.

[cyripticchronicler]

Ink and Destiny - James Potter

In a world full of soulmates, the last thing you'd expect is James Potter to be yours.

Warnings: Soulmate au, swearing

Masterlist

Part two Part three Part four

The Hogwarts Library was always your place to go if you needed to escape. Nothing but the quiet turns of pages and whispers to keep you company. It was where you found yourself on a lazy Sunday afternoon, wanting to catch up on some reading. 

As you scan the old shelves you pause at the sight of an old book. It wasn’t the fact it was old that drew your attention, no there were many old books in Hogwarts, it was the name of the book. ‘How To Find Your Soulmate.’

My soulmate. You’ve never cared for my soulmate. Never tried to write to him on your arm like everyone else. And he never did either. 

And even though you deny it, it’s rather lonely. Maybe that’s why you pick up the book. To fill the loneliness in your heart. 

The book opens on the first step and you read eagerly;

Start conversations with them

You scoff, no shit. You slam the book shut and place it back on the shelf. You wouldn’t even know what to say to him. 

There are limits to what you can say. You can’t say your name, where you live or anything that can reveal your identity straight away.

But as you find an empty table, planning to catch to do some homework, you grab your quill, dunking it in ink, pausing above your arm. 

A droplet of ink falls from the quill and onto your arm and you swear quietly. The ink shimmers until it’s gone. 

Not allowing yourself to think, you write a sloppy ‘sorry’ on your arm and get back to your homework. 

You block it from your mind, ready to forget about the whole situation. But as you exit the library you can’t help but glance at your arm, tensing at the sight of black ink across your arm. 

“It’s alright, Love. How are you?”

You don’t respond until you are back in the confines of your dormitory, responding with a hurried, “I’m alright. How are you?”

He responds immediately and you cross your legs on your bed eagerly.

“Better now that I’m talking to you.” You roll your eyes, knowing a playboy when you see one- or read one per se.

You ignore him, going downstairs into the Gryffindor common room to hang out with your friends. 

Your eyes roll once again when you hear James Potter’s loud voice at the top of the stairs, his voice getting louder as you make your way down the stairs. 

“-Hasn’t responded,” James says, his voice laced with defeat. You ignore him, smiling when you find Lily painting her nails in the corner. 

You place your hands down on the table, smiling sheepishly and she rolls her eyes before starting to paint your nails.

“I did something,” You mutter shyly and she raises her eyebrow in question. “I talked to my soulmate.” 

She grins brightly before falling slightly, “James did too. He's talking about it really loudly.”

You tense, shrugging your shoulders, “So? It’s not like we’re going to be soulmates. I hate him.”

She relaxes slightly, going back to painting your nails a pretty pink, “Yeah. You can’t be soulmates with someone you hate. What did you say anyway?”

You nod in agreement, recalling the things you said just moments ago.

You converse until she’s finished your nails and then you both make your way downstairs for dinner. 

Not looking where you’re going, you bang into a hard chest, looking up, you scowl at the man in front of you.

“Sorry, Love.” James grins, letting go of your waist. You tense. Love? It’s just a coincidence. Heaps of people call someone Love.

You nod your head silently and walk around him, your stomach rumbling with hunger.

—-

“Are you still ignoring me?”

You roll your eyes at the message on your arm. It’s been three days since you first talked to him, three days since you started ignoring him.

Lily notices the message on my arm, wiggling her eyebrows playfully before leaning into whisper, “Respond. He can’t be that bad.”

You shake your head in disagreement but go to respond anyway. 

“Yes.”

His response was immediate, “What did I do?”Your cheeks are flushed as you respond. He didn’t even do anything, “Nothing.”

“That’s very helpful, thank you.” You roll my eyes as more words appear on your arm, “Why is Professor McGonagall so creepy?” 

You laugh quietly in agreement, sneaking a look at the front from where she’s watching Sirius and James like a hawk. 

You freeze. It’s just a coincidence. 

“She’s not that bad.”

“She probably likes you.”

You laugh quietly, “You probably mess around too much.”

“You got me there, I do like a good prank.” You freeze again, everything pointing to James Potter. As subtle as you can, you peek over at where he’s sitting, hunched over his desk, quill in his hand. He’s probably just taking notes.

It’s not like you hate James, it's just he’s loud, and arrogant. But he’s cute, you’ll give him that.

You scan the room, noting many other people with quills in their hand. It could be anyone.

“Do you play quidditch?”

You watch James tense, looking around before slouching again.

“As a matter of fact, I do. I’m the seeker.”

You tense. He can’t be my soulmate. 

You pull up your sleeve immediately, not wanting anything to do with him.

Maybe you're being too harsh. You’ve only talked to him once and that was when you walked into him. But you’ve heard things about him. How he always pranks people, how his ego is as big as Hogwarts himself. 

You sigh, pulling your sleeve up again, “Gryffindor seeker?”

His handwriting comes out shaky, “Yes.”

Fuck. What do you say? Should you meet him?

You jump when everyone starts packing up. You follow suit, ignoring the way James’s eyes are roaming around the room. 

You ignore his gaze as you make your way out of the classroom. It’s only when you’re in potions class that you look at your arms again. “Do you want to meet?”

You decide to answer truthfully, “I’ve heard things about you. I’m not sure I like you.” Was that rude?

“Maybe you should meet me before assuming things about me.”

“Astronomy tower. 10pm”

“See you then, Love.”

You don’t look at your arm for the rest of the day. Only when you're sneaking through Hogwarts and making your way to the tower do you let yourself be nervous.

I’m about to meet my soulmate, you think, James Potter is my soulmate. 

You pause at the sight of James pacing the tower, hands wringing together. You don’t let yourself think, walking through the door and making yourself known. 

His head whips around, eyes widening at the sight of you standing there. 

“You.” He whispers, eyes roaming your face.

“Me,” You whisper back, letting your eyes trace his face. He really is beautiful.

“I sure hit the jackpot,” He says playfully and you smile, cheeks flushed, “What bad things have you heard about me?” He asks, slowly stalking closer. 

“Things,” You mutter, running your fingers across the balcony edge, “Like your ego is huge and you’re a dick.”

His eyebrows raise, “My ego is huge but I wouldn’t call myself a dick.” He stalks even closer, your bodies almost touching. 

“I guess I’ll have to see for myself.” You state and he nods his head in agreement. 

“How about a date? On Saturday near the lake.” You pretend to think for a moment, though your mind is already made up.

“You have one chance, Potter. One chance to prove yourself to me.”

His eyes narrow playfully, head moving closer, “What about you, L/N? I’ve heard things about you too.” 

You laugh, “Like what?”

He smiles, “Like you read too much.”

You scoff, “Forgive me for my sins.”

“I will on our date.”

Your eyes narrow, his forehead touching yours, “Deal.”

[timmydraker]

CW: drugs

When Tim is seventeen, Bruce gets a call from his principal asking for a private meeting to discuss Tim’s education. It’s not abnormal, but the parent teacher meetings weren’t due for another month and something about the tone of Professor Wilcot’s voice leaves Bruce concerned.

He organises it for the next afternoon and politely tells the timid looking man to please get to the point.

Wilcot answers with a tight lipped frown, “I recently discovered that Tim has a few nicknames. Now, that in itself isn’t a probably but the names themself are… concerning.”

Bruce immediately thinks of Red Robin and worries his son has been caught, but that makes little sense when Tim has shown to be the best at contingencies and secret keeping.

“Such as?”

With a deep sigh the man continues, “Well, there’s ‘Benzo’ and ‘Opi’. As well as ‘27’, which is recently learned references a so called ‘club’ of celebrities who die at that age for-for drug abuse.”

Even if he wasn’t a detective, Bruce could easily put it all together. Benzodiazepines and opioids, both drugs and a number well tied to such a thing all regarding a famed person.

It’s like he’s just gotten inside from being drenched in snow and had hot water dunked on him as dozens of different moments come to mind. He remembers Tim going from being down and low, tired and drained to suddenly being extra alert and chatty. He assumed it was coffee, but Tim often had a red nose and sniffled like mad.

He also got shakes, was made fun of by his brothers for being a sweaty person, and irritable at the best of times. He was jumpy and easily spooked, which everyone connected to him growing up safe and getting no sleep.

Tim also had forgotten basic case information a few times but usually managed to cover it up.

Bruce had noticed and responded by trying to lessen his work load, only for Tim to scream at him, storm off and come back looking drowsy a couple of hours later.

Wilcot doesn’t speak for a while, seemingly giving Bruce the chance to process his words but when he does it’s just to put forward the last bit of evidence Bruce needs.

“I admit it isn’t exactly ethical, but I check Mister Drake-Wayne’s locker and… I thought it would be best if I let you chose how to proceed lest I harm his reputation.”

A bottle, almost empty, of Oxycodone and a half full bottle of Oxymorphone.

Bruce looks away when the last bottle lands on the table, it’s a benzodiazepines called Dalmane and there are no pills because they’ve all been crushed into a powder.

Bruce doesn’t even want to think about how those drugs interact.

Wilcot says one last thing before he leaves the room, quit clearly giving Bruce a moment as the reveal settles in his mind, “Tim is a good kid. He’s kind to everyone and I truely hope he can get help. Please, if there is anything I can do, contact me. Other than that, I will keep this quiet. Please take care of him.”

Let it be said that Bruce Wayne loves his children, he genuinely cares for them and most importantly, he likes who each of them are.

But he’s not always the best father to them, not when he’s too far in his head and his head is too far up his arse.

He tries to confront Tim calmly and with compassion at first but it becomes clear he isn’t qualified to deal with it and he should have gotten Alfred or even Dick. When Batman deals with addicts all he has to do is get them to a hospital and show he isn’t judging them, but with his own son and when he’s not being Batman…

Tim instantly locks up when Bruce shows him the bottles and his defences go straight into overdrive, “Bruce, don’t. That’s not fair! Did you go through my fucking stuff?! That’s fucked up!”

Bruce looses his composure quickly, “Don’t you dare curse at me, Timothy. You are a goddamn hero and you’re doing this? Why did you tell me?! I could have helped you! Why, Tim?! You e seen what people who abuse drugs end up like-“

Tim screams so loud Bruce can practically hear how it hurts his throat, “WHAT FUCKING DRUGGIES?! IS THAT WHAT THEY END UP LIKE?! TOO FUCKING LATE BRUCE, YOU’RE TOO LATE! I GAVE YOU EVERY FUCKING SIGN AND YOU DID NOTHING SO FUCK OFF! I. AN HANDLE IT ON MY OWN!”

“This ain’t handling it, Tim. You’re addicted. You’re erratic, you’re bouncing from mood to mood and, have you seen how skinny you are? I’m worried, Tim.”

Maybe Tim would have been able to handle it better if he hadn’t been a few hours into withdrawal, but all he does is swing. He manages to catch Bruce of guard and hit him square in the jaw, only to realise what he’s done and start hitting himself the same way.

Bruce breaks as he watches his son who is usually so calm and controlled break down in a fit of aggression and pent up energy.

When Tim manages to hit himself hard enough Bruce. An hear a crack from his hand.

As he speaks again he dooms himself to a life time of regret, forever wishing he had gotten Alfred’s advice first.

“I’m sorry son, but until you’re clean, you will no longer be Red Robin.”

There’s a silence before Tim releases a wheezing laugh of disbelief.

It’s soon followed by the most enraged, harrowing scream Bruce has ever heard. It feels as if it shakes the walls before Tim kicks at his father’s stomach and bolts.

Bruce is too stunned to follow and foolishly assumes he can track his son anywhere.

Tim, even after he manages to shakily pull out the Dalmane he had in his pocket just as he passes the gate and take a big inhale, manages to put his mind together enough to remove his watch and key.

Bruce is forced to shamefully admit what happened a few hours later when he can’t find him and realises that Tim isn’t coming back.

Alfred for the first time in Bruce’s entire life actually glares at him.

Dick shouts at Bruce about how unbelievably stupid he is.

Jason just scoffs and says the kid will come back while Damian makes a comment about Tim being weak.

Maybe they would have reacted better if Bruce told them why Tim left, but he shamefully doesn’t want to admit he didn’t notice that Tim was a dealing with addiction under his own nose.

But Bruce has never been good with honesty.

[lucimaaie]

we pt3 ✧.* tlou

pairing - santa barbara!ellie x reader

summary - you and ellie hit the road.

a/n - this one got more angst yall, also between this and my essay my hands hurt, anyway enjoy

part 1, part 2

the two of you had packed up relatively quickly and set out the next morning. it took a while to get used to traveling again, this time not alone and with a more productive goal than revenge.

ellie had taken it upon herself to carry most of the things you’d agreed to bring. the rifle, the backpack full of relatively good clothes you shared, and the food supply.

the first few weeks had been cruel, hiking in the snow with only a few layers of clothes. as you moved through the states, it was clear it was getting hotter and though ellie was happy for the change, she wasn’t prepared.

“i told you it was hot.” you giggled as you watched ellie dip her hands into the lukewarm water and dab it on her arms and chest. you’d be lying if you said the sight was nothing special. you watched her with attentive eyes as you sat down next to lake. “gonna share?”

ellie glared at you. “what you want me to dunk you in, because i will.” she busied herself with taking off your shows. she couldn’t help but frown when she saw how bruised your feet were. you’d need real rest soon. she rolled up your pants and moved your feet into the water. “that hurt?”

“it’s okay.”

ellie got her answer by the way your nose scrunched up at the feeling of the water surrounding your feet. it probably hadn’t been the best option, considering the water wasn’t exactly cold. “we gotta you some new shoes soon, peach.” she set your shoes the side, briefly surveying the state of hers. “could take mine until then.” she mumbled.

“they’re fine.” you said as you swung your feet in the water.

ellie sighed deeply, looking at your reflection in the water. this was risky, setting out with limited surprise without a destination in mind. she grabbed the map from the front pocket of her backpack. she unfolded the map and laid it on her lap. “think this is south enough?”

“hm,” you looked over the map, seeing where she’d marked where you were now: somewhere in colorado. “not quite south yet. unless this is good?”

“think it still gets crazy cold here in the winter.” she leaned back on her hands, looking at how focused you were. you were so dedicated to making sure she was happy. or as happy as she could be all things considered. she gently grabbed the map from your hands and tucked the folded paper into her shoes. without another word, she crouched next to you, took your foot into her hands and pressed her thumbs into the center of it.

“you don’t have to-“ you sighed breathily. “do that.”

“peach.” it was meant to come out firm, but the word was gentle. “lemme do this.” she pressed her thumbs harder, moving them in slow circles into the skin. this was good for now.

another few weeks later, ellie and you had shed the heavy jackets in the day and snuggled up under them at night. ellie had fussed over you more and more over the time, always feeding you first, giving you the first sip of water, all of it. she’d like to say it was simply because you were traveling across country into a completely different climate but that was only part of it. you were hers, officially. it was her job to do all this, to be close to you.

ellie let herself be excited, even though it was terrifying. everything was new and she could lose you at any moment, but that's not what she wanted to think about. as the night fell, she was excited about star filled sky every day. she mumbled something about stargazing but she didn't expect you to make a pallet out of your old coats and pat the spot next to you.

"we should be sleeping." she said off-handledly as if she hadn't immediately snuggled into you. she stared at you in the moonlight for a while before you pushed your her face up to the stars.

"look at them, not me." your little laugh was honey next to her ear.

"what? you're making it hard. not my fault." she wrapped her arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer. if that was even possible.

the sound of crickets (or cicadas, she couldn’t tell) filled the silence for a few minutes. ellie was calm as she breathed in the earthy scent of you. “i wish i had a book that told me the names of all these things.” she looked at the stars, enamored with them. “i kept looking for one back in jackson, but nothing.”

“jackson?” you questioned, craning your neck up to look at her.

ellie blinked as she realized she’d slipped. it wasn’t a secret she was adamant on hiding anymore, just a detail she hadn’t mentioned yet. it was her a part of her past, but one of the good parts. maybe..maybe she could tell you this. “i lived there before.” she looked down at you.

“didn’t know that.” you said, ever so curious as always. “what was it like?”

“safe.” was the first first out her mouth. it had been safe at some point, that wasn’t a lie. “almost normal. lot of people. beds, water, electricity.”

“sounds homey.” you briefly glanced at the sky as you tried to imagine something so normal. a neighborhood. the thought seemed foreign compared to your nomadic childhood.

“it was home.” she laid on her side, her forehead gently touching yours. she shivered slightly at the cool breeze that passed. her lips quirked up when you rubbed up and down her arm, thankful for your touch more than the warmth.

“do you miss it?”

“sometimes.” ellie said quietly. she wasn’t exactly into the conversation. the comfort between your touch and voice had her relaxed enough to confront her sleepiness. the fear of a nightmare wasn’t completely gone but knowing you would be there allowed her to tuck her head between yours and close her eyes.

ellie should’ve known the hours of comfort she’d experienced had to come at some price. she flinched as she heard the familiar screech of a clicker. she could barely keep the anxiety out her voice as she shook you awake. "c'mon, wake up." she said in a hushed tone.

you were slow to wake up but as soon as you heard those sounds you shot up as her. she pulled the blankets from underneath you and bunched them in her arm before swinging her backpack over her shoulder. her chest rose and fell quickly as she watched you gather the rest of your belongings and catch up with her.

her hand found yours as she kept her hand on a swivel. there was an overlap, signaling there were two maybe three, hopefully not four. she squeezed your hand as she pulled you behind her. you couldn't run but you couldn't stay here either and splitting up was never an option. "step back," she mouthed, hoping the moonlight helped you at least to understand.

you stepped back slowly, disappearing into the trees. ellie cringed as you stepped on a thin branch, the sound of it snapping bringing attention to you. a clicker nearby let out a feral roar and came rushing towards you. "run." she turned to you.

"what? no-" the sleepiness in your eyes was long gone and replaced with pure fear.

"i'm not asking, go." ellie grabbed her gun from her hip. you glanced down at her hand and looked at her incredulously. she looked at you with something more stony than she'd ever look at you. like she was getting ready to lose you.

"no, that's stupid. you can't do that, el-" you tried to pry it from her hands but she was stronger. you patted your pockets for anything that would help, but nothing. finally, you remembered a pair of scissors you'd found earlier and dug them out ellie's backpack.

ellie tried to push you off but the clicker had already arrived, drawn to your shushed argument. you stabbed it right in it's neck, wedging it through the skin for good measure. it was dying, but not fast enough. it had almost gotten one good bite in before ellie fired a quick shot right in it's face. you looked back at her meeting her panicked eyes with the same fear. there was no hesitation in taking her hand and making a run for it.

everything seemed to blur as you held onto ellie's hand like your life depended on it. you hadn't even seen her pick up anything to throw but the clinking sound against a tree gave you enough time to sneak past the hungry things. ellie held you close to her as you hid behind a crashed car as if they could see you. there was a sliver of relief as the clickers got their sights set on elsewhere. ellie's grip hadn't loosened on you as tears fell down her cheeks, the stress hitting her all at once.

"hey." you patted her arm up to her hand, squeezing as tight as you could without hurting her. "oh ellie, baby-" hearing your voice seemed to help but she was still shaken as she checked your arms for bites. her eyes were too glossy to see the look on your face but she didn't care. she cupped your face, leaning her forehead against yours as she tried to keep her breathing normal and quiet. "i thought you-" she cut herself off with a stuttered intake of breath. "i'm okay, i'm here. w-we gotta go, alright?" you brought your shaky hands up to push back her hair. she nodded, letting you guide her to hopefully some place safer for the night.

thank you for reading!

[occamstfs]

In The Rink: Woodie

Travelling up North to visit his friend at the behest of his new hockey captain, Remy's in for quite a surprise when his friend has become quite the brute. More surprises await as it seems some intimate time together may just help him become part of the team himself.

Part two of my story for HairyJockTf! Dunks' domination streak seems to affect him off the court as well, not that Remy minds! The story continues off from In The Rink: Dunks! Hope you enjoy! -Occam

Remy really didn’t understand why Duncan was being so cagey? They used to be so close before he moved up here for work and now it’s been months since they texted. Thank God his teammate finally reached out and invited him up to visit! He even paid for a plane ticket which Remy thought was insane, but he’s not about to turn down the offer. He can’t wait to see the look on Duncan’s face when he surprises him haha! 

Shivering in the cold streets, Remy smiles as he sees his breath in the air. He can’t believe it’s already so cold up here, back home it won’t get this chilly for a couple more months! His mind keeps returning to Duncan and his excitement at their impending reunion. Remy wonders what Duncan told Matt about him to get him to reach out, though presumably in their correspondence he realized that their relationship is a little more complicated than just ‘friends’.

Finding Duncan’s apartment unlocked, just like Matt said he would, Remy enters and lays his stuff down on the coffee table. Immediately he struggles to not be too intrusive. It has been a while after all, he’d hate to learn something that Duncan wouldn’t want him to know. He pauses for a moment, like if he had a boyfriend. Remy chews on his lip as he realizes how stupid he was to come up at the insistence of some man he doesn’t know. Totally overstepping an unspoken boundary with Duncan. Matt must have told him. Duncan must know he’s here, right?

Overcoming his druthers, Remy sets about snooping through Duncan’s apartment. Promptly he’s floored at what a pigsty it is. Nothing like the prim and proper man he knew when they went to university together. Dirty dishes piled in the sink, pizza boxes and other to-go containers scattered around the kitchen, loads of unwashed clothes spilling out of a hamper. He was shocked when he heard his friend had gotten into hockey, but he never expected that he’d be so obsessed as to start living in filth? 

His phone goes off and he checks it to find an alarm he set as a five minute warning prior to when Matt said Duncan should be making it back to the apartment. Initially he set it so he’d have time to get in the mindset to see his ex, not ex, friend. But at the present moment nerves seem insurmountable so instead he decides to instead skip straight to preparing a gag that would diffuse tension. Eying a uniform laid out on the couch Remy smirks as he imagines how funny it would be if Duncan got home to see his oh so mousy friend ready to hit the rink himself!

This turned out to be foolhardy for a number of reasons. The first being that Remy was absolutely drowning in this jersey. He knew they were massive, what with the pads and all, but he can’t imagine Duncan would ever fit in this? It’s gotta be for a man at least a foot taller than he knows Duncan to be. Beyond that he isn’t sure if the coming in from the cold dulled his sense of smell or what, but as soon as he throws on that jersey he is bathed in the scent of a jersey that hasn’t been washed after months of heavy exercise.

Remy could barely stand as he’s overwhelmed by the scent of the uniform that now rests on his shoulders. His eyes water as a stink greater than that of every locker room he’s had the misfortune of spending time in combined blasts his sinuses. He races to plug his nose but the movement only wafts more of the musk baked into the crusty jersey towards his nose. Gagging similarly only increases his intake and in little time at all the musk of his friend has totally displaced air in his lungs. 

Growing shockingly lightheaded, the young man falls back onto the couch. While his mind is awash with Duncan’s b.o., the part of him that has long been the most preoccupied with his friend begins to stir. In no time at all his most precious cargo overrides rationality and cleanliness and asserts the upside to wearing Duncan’s sweat-stained uniform. After struggling to produce a hand from the oversized sleeves he promptly begins working his package through the thick material. Before he has nearly enough time to get off, but well enough for him to forget his friend is almost home. The door to the apartment cracks open and he jumps with a start and falls flat on his face, uncomfortably landing on the boner hidden beneath the jersey.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house.” Hesitating as he lies face down on the floor Remy is filled with fear as he realizes he does not recognize that voice. Far deeper than Duncan could muster with a head cold, duller than his sharp friend would ever care to present, and with an irritation so harsh it borders on rage. Remy slowly turns to look up at the man entering the space with a shy grin that immediately dissolves. Were he not already on the floor he would have doubled over from the shock.

That cannot be Duncan Worthy. Stumbling over words as his clumsy tongue tries to buy time to take in the behemoth standing over him, Remy squints his eyes and finds the faintest glimmer of familiarity in the brutish man, “D-Duncan?” His scowl harshens further as he closes the door and crosses arms that could knock Remy out with a flick, “Name’s Dunks, kid.” Squinting in return, he looks down as if they were having a competition; he moves to pick the mousy Remy up by the jersey. “‘N why are you wearing my shit punk?” 

Remy again stumbles over his words before trying to get a grip on the hem of the jersey almost hanging past his knees. Rolling his eyes and grimacing at the pathetic grunts of his home invader apparent as the small man is unable to get the jersey off over his head, Dunks steps in and wrenches it off, briefly holding Remy in the air as he slides out of the stained fabric. Looking at the blushing man, the few gears in Dunks’ struggling mind click into overdrive, “You a horny fan or what?” Remy balks, “What!? Duncan it’s me!”

Hearing himself referred to with his proper name once more brings a darkness into the athlete’s eyes, “Told you to call me Dunks. If you were a real fan you’d know that.” Remy pouts and stamps his foot, “I- Do you not recognize me Dunca- Dunks? It’s me, uhm, Remy? Remy Woods?” The brute scratches his beard and disrobes from the sweaty clothes he wore to the team’s practice. “Oh yeah uhhh, Kinger mentioned somethin’ about you bein’ in town.” Suddenly the look in his eyes grows even more clouded as he strides closer to Remy. 

Despite alarm bells going off at the sudden movement of this man that he can read about as well as a wild animal. Despite adrenaline suddenly coursing through him as he feels genuine fear. Despite the brusque man’s arms reaching to grab him, he is unable to act. Conflict between his mind’s knowing that he should retreat and his more primal, hornier id demanding he stay rooted to the spot. When his nose is hit with a fresh wave of Dunks’ musk his rational mind loses whatever thin grasp it held on the reins and Remy becomes putty in the beast’s hands

“Been a while Woods. Seems like you're still obsessed with me eh?” Remy grumbles something unintelligible in protest but he lacks the coherence or care to even dispute the assertion. Dunks’ smirk grows wide and wicked as he continues, “And now you’ve followed me all this way to join the team huh? Hope you’re ready for a first taste.” Awareness returns to Remy’s mind at this bizarre statement, join the team? What on Earth did King tell him? “Uhm I’m not so sUR-” Unfortunately for his barely reemergent reason, he is interrupted as Dunks forces his head into his pits. “Yeah get a nice good breath.”

Remy struggles in the clutches of his once-friend, unable to make any headway against biceps the size of his thighs. He pushes with all his meager might but with each struggled breath he loses the willpower to do anything but delight in the odor. His mouth was open when he was shoved in shouting in protest, but now his tongue lances out to join in the rapture of Dunks’ post-practice pits. 

“Yeah I bet you like that fucker, that’ll put some hair on your fuckin’ twink chest huh.” With that he removes Remy from his pit and tosses him back onto the couch. Mind foggy from being anesthetized by Dunks’ musk, Remy has little recourse than to grovel on the couch and await whatever else the man standing over him sees fit, the bulge struggling against his already strained underwear makes it more than clear what he desires.

Dunks falls on top of him, taking care not to truly crush the smaller man as he lies beneath, moaning mindlessly. For his part the athlete’s eyes are shut as he imagines the prone man hes grinding against to be wearing a uniform, “Bet you can’t even fuckin’ carry your pads huh bitch.” Remy’s arms grope at the massive man’s hairy back as he thrusts against his own still clothed chest, barely able to move at all he struggles to remove his top now stained in Dunks’ sweat.

Doing so he finds something impossible, Dunk’s words have struck true, as the man’s meaty chest pushes into his own he feels a smattering of thick curls begin to meet them, causing friction and unfamiliar scratching. Through bleary eyes he sees Dunks’ smile grow wider. The athlete’s own mouth suddenly desiring a taste of the man he’s grinding against, Dunks leans down and begins aggressively discovering what his prey tastes like. Dragging his tongue across Remy’s hitherto hairless jaw he laughs as he feels it scratch against the first sign of stubble as it begins to break ground that shall never be clean shaven again. 

Imagining the playoff beard his bro, his teammate, will grow sends a stabbing, hungered pain into Dunks’ chest. Gritting his teeth his head trails down to Remy’s neck as he tries to inhale the first heady breath of musk that his new goalie’s body will begin to produce any second now. Impatient as he smells nothing besides himself, he almost growls as his head remains tucked behind the smaller man’s neck. His teeth move across it as his mouth opens, canines grazing Remy’s neck as he struggles not to give the moaning man a hickey powerful enough to strike him unconscious.

Beard scratching against new stubble, Jungle of chest hair tangling itself with the new forest growing on Remy’s chest, his massive cock frotting against his new goalie’s burgeoning bulge, Dunks grunts and takes a quivering breath as he is on the precipice of release he has not been allowed since he first stepped onto the rink. Pausing his momentum to ensure he enjoys the moment he has so awaited, the goliath leans in close to whisper into the ear of Remy. “Welcome to the team Woodie.”  

At that both men lose control. Cum streaks across Woodie’s awaiting stomach and pollinates a new oasis of hair that is to flourish on his torso for the rest of his life. Thick curls spread to capture the width of his stomach as it bulges outward with strength enough to hastily throw himself to stop any rushing puck. His own cock still imprisoned in the pants he traveled in prevents his load from escaping, allowing it to soak into his own blooming garden of pubes as they grow thicker than the hair of head on either man.

His mind rearranges itself to lose the dead weight of a life he will never return to as it fills with new instinct and abilities to dominate on the ice rink. Countless pucks blocked, myriad hours standing overwatch at the net, working out with his Captain Kinger and his other half Dunks. The couch underneath the two men creaks as Woodie bloats larger, gut filling out as it is quickly patterned with dark hair, shoulders widening to support weighter arms that are to evermore hide an expansive patch of pit hair, and the gem of it all an explosive hockey player’s ass.

Both men laugh as the seams blast off Woodie’s underwear and this thick cock is finally exposed. His cock bursts larger, escaping from his dense pubes and standing high above hairy balls that make one wonder if he’ll be able to fit in normal pants. On the other side the sheer size of his ass and thighs that are destined to rub together spell an end to any jeans that are not custom made, sculpted to fit around his dedicated physique. 

Seeing his quarry become the perfect teammate, Dunks feels his eternal need to dominate begin to rise. His calloused hands claw into the meaty hocks that compromise Woodie’s lats and with a smirk the newest member of the team does likewise before pitching to toss both men off the couch. Still groaning and convulsing with a body continuing to stain hairier and surge larger, the men begin to wrestle.

Their cocks remain out in the fray, twitching with anticipation as the two men frot in between holds and grunting thrusts. Woodie’s new expanding thicket of  body hair is stuck to his body with sweat as the two men rapidly wrestle for supremacy. Dunks’ brute strength makes it clear that the newbie doesn’t stand a chance. Twitching in his other half’s grasp a headache sears his mind as memories of watching Dunks absolutely demolish people on the rink. 

But it’s not over yet, the goalie’s got more of a head on his thick shoulders. Tactfully exposing his pit to get the oaf’s attention, which instantly works as the oaf hungrily stares mouth agape. Remy stretches his foot towards the enforcer’s bulging equipment bag. Shaggy leg stretching longer, he hooks his foot on the bag and yanks it, causing Dunks’ equipment to spill everywhere.

Only, that looks an awful lot like his own stuff doesn’t it? Gasping as he sees goalie pads, lustful fog abates from Dunks eyes as he sucks up some drool and follows Woodie’s eyeline, “Oh yeah huhuh, Kinger wanted me to bring you your stuff since you skipped out on practice ya-” Woodie promptly pushes to escape from the burly defenders clutches and after a grumble at his not playing fair, he assuages.

Possessed with a desire to try on his new stuff, Woodie races to the bag. Throwing on pieces as soon as he drags them out he’s made giddy feeling a compression shirt hug his powerful new curves and constrict his dynamo biceps. Woodie feels almost as overwhelmed with delight as when he and Dunks get the chance to fuck. It just feels right. Rubbing his tight, compressed torso and feeling the thick jungle of hair pressing through it, his mind restructures itself to hold hockey above anything else, everything else. Plays replace birthdays, techniques eviscerate his schooling, honed skill ousts neat handwriting, cleanliness, and any other marks of Remy Woods’ once-prim self.

Scratching at his stubble as it begins to thicken into a playoff beard to be proud of he starts digging through the equipment bag as if it were Christmas day. Dunks sidles alongside and pouts with some jealousy, whether it's for Woodie getting treats or for his teammate paying more attention to goodies than himself is unclear. Though seeing his bro light up as he yanks out a helmet any ill will vacates as he too is filled with joy at the grin on Woodie’s face. His hands shake as he goes to put on the helmet, eyes almost crossed with the irrational need to wear his uniform. 

Hair shoots up his neck as soon as the helmet graces his head. Thick itchy strands paint the entirety of his nape as his uniform sends tendrils of growth through him that are to evermore leave him as hairy as wildman. The fur on his arms and legs may be hidden with pads but beneath his faceguard and inching up from his pelted back is hair thick enough to instantly clog a drain or render a razor unusable, not that he would know that. Why would he want to shave? 

Hunger returns to the eyes of Dunks as he struggles to control his breathing and hold back from pouncing as Woodie finally finishes his emergence as the perfect goalie, the perfect partner for himself. Mouth shut to prevent from gnashing his teeth in wanton abandon, he yanks Woodie close and rubs his face against Woodie’s permanently scratchy neck, causing him more pleasure than is reasonable. Taking deep panting breaths and smelling musk enough to rival his own emanating from Woodie, drool drips and his eyes fog up as he almost feels ferality rising within him. 

Hearing the shift into some primal consciousness within Dunks, and feeling his hands tighten their grasp on his jersey, Woodie struggles to imagine a better way to break in his uniform. His mind flickers with the countless hours spent in the locker room after practice doing just that, shouts of ‘get a room’ from Kinger and their other teammates and raised middle fingers in response as they continue to make out. Blush burns bright enough to be seen through his dense beard as he feels Dunks’ tongue against his neck as it begins to trail its way up to his mouth. Woodie discards his helmet and turns to join in the fun.

The only thing that matters more to either man than time on the rink is enjoying the presence of each other. Present, in reality, for the first time in their true powerful furry forms, the hockey players find their schedules unsurprisingly open. With just under a day until they need to return to the arena the two men intend to spend every second they can in each other arms, wrestling and fucking in equal measure. Strengthening their bond like soldiers, the two athletes become more than the sum of their parts and find as much sexual gratification in their other half as they will find success on the rink. 

Kinger couldn’t wish for more skillful, or masculine teammates. With a pair of teammates as dedicated as himself on the field it's only a matter of time before they win at all. They are sure to begin a new dynasty in the sport. If not, hey, Kinger could find as many all-star players as they need. The next teammate is just a uniform away.

[gavisfanta]

TIKTOK - GAVI

summary: you and Gavi do a tiktok trend together

warnings: noneeee

"Okay, so we're gonna ask questions about ourselves and if the other person gets it wrong, were allowed to dip their head into water. Are you ready" You looked away from your phone and then at Gavi.

"Yeah, but you know that I can't remember things very well." Gavi joked and then sat down infront of the bowl filled with water.

"Yeah, you tell yourself that." You put your hand on the back of Gavis head and played with his hair a bit.

"What's my favourite city in the whole world?" You asked and Gavi began to smile while he looked at the camera.

"Barcelona?" He questioned while he looked at you.

You began to smile and let go of his head. "I'll let that count." Gavi looked at you confused and held his hands up into the air.

"What do you mean? Is it not Barcelona?" He asked and you smiled.

"Rome and Barcelona." Gavi's mouth opened slightly as he remembered.

"Righttt we went there for your birthday!" He put his right hand to his head while you two swapped places.

You were now facing the bowl filled with water and Gavi had his hand on the back of your head.

"When did I debut for the first team?" Gavi asked, he thought that you would never get this right. However the smile that spread across your lips made him a bit nervous.

"29th of August 2021."

"how did you know that?" His jaw dropped while you two swapped again.

"I was literally there to experience it, you think I forgot when my boyfriend debuted?" You grinned and slowly a smile made it's way to his face too.

"Yeah okay, fair." 

"So" You began as you two swapped seats again. "What would I name my daughter if I had one?"  You asked and Gavi immediately began to smile.

"Gavi junior." He laughed. "Okay I'm kidding, I'm kidding" He held his hands up to defend himself as he felt your hand push his head a bit closer to the water. "Estrella" He smiled as soon as he heard you sigh.

"Estrella sounds like a good name no?" You asked him as you swapped seats again.

"Yeah, Estrella sounds like a good name for our daughter." Gavi smiled at you and you looked at the camera. Your cheeks colored in a light pinkish tone.

Then as your head was above the water, you smiled while listening to Gavi. "If I had been a girl, what would have been my name?" Gavi asked with a sly smile.

"Your parents hoped you'd be a boy so they never thought about a girl name." You hekd your breath, ready to be dunked but nothing happened.

"Joder you really do listen to me when I talk." Gavi laughed and you nodded your head.

"Yeah, you should maybe listen to me too sometime." You shot back as Gavi's eyes widened and he sat down infront of the bowl.

"I do listen to you?" He said in his defence. You crossed your arms as your eyes widened even more than before.

"Yeah, what's my favourite color?" You asked and immediately dunked his head into the water.

"Hey I know it's red!?" Gavi asked as he pushed his dripping hair out of his face.

"It's purple!" You answered loudly and sat down on the chair as soon as he stood up.

"Okay, sorry." He smiled a bit. You shook your head and turned to look at your phone.

"Okay guys thank you for tuning in and see you next time." You waved at the camera and saw that Gavi was waving too.

After you ended the video you turned on the chair to look at him.

"Y/n, Estrella and Gavi. Hm?" He hummed as he leaned down and pecked your lips.

"Not yet, we're too young." You told him and he just smiled.

"Not yet, I know, but someday, we'll have our own little family." He put his hand on the back of your head as he said that. "You're gonna stay at home and care for the kids while I am at practice and every weekend you'd take them to Camp Nou, and whenever I score a goal, I'll run up to you and kiss you." Gavi smiled as he imagined how his perfect future was supposed to look like.

"Sounds like I'll be fine then." You smiled and he leaned down to peck your lips again.

"You'll be more than just fine Amor."

[trashogram]

Lucifer/Reader — Your husband won’t stop talking.

Rated T because it’s Hazbin Hotel

🍎 🍎 🍎 🍎 🍎 🍎 🍎 🍎

“So I told him ‘things are never gonna get better if the inhabitants keep dumping bodies in the lake’ and he just huffed as if that wasn’t obvious.” Lucifer blabbed.

You watched him, unable to curb your smile as he repeatedly dunked his cookie in the cup of coffee you brought him. It was just the slightest bit irritating, waiting for him to finish so that you could do the very silly thing that had just popped into your head.

“Uh huh.” You signaled for him to continue, sliding your own cup to the table beside your chair.

“Although I said to him, maybe it’s not the corpses as much as it’s the smog. But maybe that’s also from bodies. I bet there are a ton of imps burning each other down there.” Lucifer grimaced. “Sure smelled like it.”

“Hmmm,” You rose from the comfort of your seat and made your way to the Devil on light feet.

“Then I felt bad because he made that pouty face — you know the one, it’s not really cute just scary — and got all quiet, so everything got kinda weird there for a while.” Lucifer brushed the cookie crumbs from his face.

He realized you were standing right in front of him as soon as you’d taken away the mug. How the so-called Dark Father managed to look as innocent as he did was a mystery to you still.

The way he inhaled suddenly as you straddled him sent a flutter through your stomach.

“Heh-Hey there…” The blond blushed, hands hovering at your sides.

You smirked, already lifting your blouse up by the hem. Lucifer’s eyes darted down to watch you, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed audibly.

“What — !” The intimate atmosphere was kaput when you lifted your shirt up and over Lucifer’s head with a cackle.

Your husband’s face was immediately smooshed against your chest as you trapped him. Your arms came round his shoulders as you pulled him in close, still laughing. Lucifer sat in shock for a good few seconds before he snorted.

You opened your shirt collar to peek down at him, butterflies now dancing in your belly as he looked back at you. The former angel gazed at you, the tip of his forked tongue flittering funnily.

You stuck your tongue out as well, tauntingly. “Got you.”

Lucifer’s arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you in closer as he sighed happily.

“I’d get you back if this wasn’t ah-mazing.” He retorted lightly.

He rubbed his head up and down your chest as he settled back in his seat, goading you into joining him in the makeshift tent with a kiss.

[naturesapphic]

Can I request a modern au for lady Dimitrescu where the reader has been her daughters’ babysitter for years and Alcina is in love with her?

Headcannon: where modern lady dimitrscu is in love with the babysitter

Modern!lady dimitrescu x babysitter!fem!reader

Warnings: fluff

- you’ve been the babysitter for the dimitrescu kids for a few years now

- while you’ve been taking care of the kids

- you’ve developed feelings for their mother

- you always admired her work ethic and the love she has for her girls

- she was always nice to you and considered you part of their family

- the girls adore you and love having you around

- most of the time they actually listen to you but not all the time

- sometimes you have to threaten to tell their mother for them to behave

- over the years their mother has warmed up to you

- when you first started she seemed cold and to herself

- she didn’t think you would stay this long with her and her girls

- but she’s very glad that you did

- she knew you were the one when she would find you with her girls teaching them some stuff, reading, or they will be asleep around you while you would be fast asleep with them

- she loves how you treat her daughters

- they consider you their other mother instead of a babysitter

- they want their mom and you to be together

- the girls both know that y’all like each other

- they can tell by the way the both of you look at each other and how y’all act

- the girls went to their mothers room and convinced her to act on her romantic feelings towards you

- you were scrolling through your phone in your room when you heard a sudden knock on the door

- “it’s open!” You exclaimed

- alcina dunked into the doorway as she walked into your room, over to the bed where you were

- you were surprised to see her this late but it must be important for her to be here

- she took a seat at the end of your bed and she looked up at you with a shy expression

- you’ve never seen her this shy and nervous before

- “I’m in love with you y/n…” alcina confessed and your mouth hung open in shock

- she got scared by your silence and started to stand up

- you immediately stopped her “no no! Please stay! I’m sorry…I’m just shocked.” You said shyly

- “I understand…but do you feel the same towards me? My daughters said you do but if they lied to me I swear on mother Miranda that I-“ she said but you interrupted her at the end

- “no! I’m in love with you too. The girls wouldn’t lie to you like that.” You said and she gave you a big smile

- “you truly do love me?” She asked you shyly and you nodded your head yes with the biggest smile plastered on both of y’all’s faces.

- you were so glad that the girls told lady dimitrescu about how you feel

- which you are curious on how they found out about that

- but either way you are grateful because now you have four women you love. A future wife and three amazing potential daughters.

- you are so glad you became their babysitter because it got you to where you are now

A/n: I hope the anon who requested it likes it and I’m so sorry I took so long to make it and I hope that the rest of y’all like it too. Remember to stay hydrated and to rest and happy new years guys! I love you all! :)

[saintescuderia]

ANTINAL // CS55

(a pancakes oneshot!)

AKA - carlos tries the local food in jeddah without you - and suffers as a result

series masterlist here :)

the pancakes recipe here :)

A/N: this was written as a coping mechanism for the fact that carlos is sick and might not make jeddah

“Please tell me what you were thinking.” 

You walked into the room to see the Spanish driver sat on the bed, rubbing his eyes from the nap you had just woken up him from. Good. You had seen his Instagram story and the bragging of the 50km bike ride around Jeddah. With the Ferrari contract coming to an end, Onoro was working overtime. Carlos’ schedule was now jam packed with all these PR moments, both official in having meetings and dinners, and unofficial and his Instagram was now becoming his CV. 

Case in point, let me show off my athleticism. 

“I wanted to go for a bike ride.” Carlos said simply. His ran a hand through his bed hair, wild from his nap, and then his eye adjusted to you. “Don’t dump your bag there.”

“Then don’t keep your shoes here.” You retorted as, of course, his shoes were right by the door. You two had often argued about it, him haphazardly taking them off as he walked into the hotel and you tripping over them and then nagging him about it as you kicked them to the side. As now, you nagged at him and kicked the white sneakers out of your path. 

However, in doing so, you stopped and bent down to pick up the shoes. You looked at him and then back at the shoe with the Nike swish. A surprised smile found its way on your face, distracting you from the issue at hand. 

“You went out in dunks?” 

“You bought them for me to wear.” He said as if it were obvious. “Girlfriend affect.” He waved a dismissive hand in the air and you couldn’t help but smile at how cute that was. For a second, the whole thing disarmed you and made your forget why you had rushed to the hotel room in a huff. 

Then Carlos reached for some pills on his bedside table and it all came rushing back. 

It wasn’t like you disagreed with all the extra stuff Onoro had his cousin do. Carlos needed to start working now if he wanted to find another seat for next year. You all agreed to it. What you didn’t agree to was Carlos taking stupid risks with his training and doing stuff like a 50km bike ride in Saudi Arabian weather without you. The heat stroke alone was enough to knock him out and prevent him from actually racing that weekend. 

Case in point, right now. 

“Alright kids I gotta get to work, if I don’t input those numbers… doesn’t make much of difference.”

You snorted, immediately tuning into the iconic voice of one Chandler Bing. You look to where the TV was playing one of the earlier season of FRIENDS, the cast looking especially younger. You looked back at Carlos and frowned, eyeing him suspiciously. 

“What? You always say I should watch it.” He said. 

It wasn’t that Carlos was watching FRIENDS. It was the fact that he was in bed watching FRIENDS. If there ever was someone more pedantic about sleep hygiene, it was him. If he had just woken up from a nap, it wasn’t planned. Suddenly, your worry about his wellbeing overtook your anger. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked as you came to sit on the edge of the bed he was still reclined in. You brought a hand to his forehead and noted his temperature. Nothing alarming. Though, he was shirtless and the AC was on. You also noted the green gel of aloe vera he had likely stolen from your own suitcase. At least he was taking care of himself. 

“Better now that you’re here.” He said and reached up to bring the hand that was feeling his forehead to bring it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to your fingers. You rolled your eyes but still couldn’t help but smile. 

“You’re not going to get out of this.”

“Out of what?”

“Carlos, I saw your story.” You said. 

“One second mi amor.” Carlos flipped the bed sheets back and then climbed out of bed. He rushed to the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him. You stared at him confusedly as suddenly there was music playing from inside the bathroom. You were really at a loss with this one. Especially since you recognised the song and wondered since when your boyfriend willingly listened to Metro Boomin? 

Carlos was particular about his bathroom time and if he was playing music, you could only assume he wasn’t in there just to take a piss. Evidently he was going to be in there for a while and that meant you would have to occupy yourself until then. 

There was a coffee machine at the small kitchenette that was calling your name. You had woken up earlier than usual to help Oscar through some drills before the race weekend and the need for caffeine was all too real. As you popped the pod into the Nespresso machine, you realised the spread of half-eaten food Carlos had likely ordered - and dumped into the kitchen sink. 

You knew his diet well since you had been the one to essentially create it. It had been a painstaking process to carefully craft a regime that allowed Carlos to hit his protein goals - and indulge in his love for food. Because man, did Carlos love food. He had pretty much wept at the sight of you poached chicken breast all those many months ago. Since the relationship between the two of you had shifted on from the strictly business of a trainer-driver relationship to becoming a fully fledged romantic couple, Carlos had taken you out to countless restaurants. He had a list in his Notes app of all his favourite restaurants, bars and cafes all around the world and had decided to take you to every one come a Grand Prix weekend.  

You thought it was stupid since he needed to work but one could never be mad at those eyes. It was how he managed to get you to let him eat all that he did. 

So to see that Carlos Sainz, the Spanish foodie Carlos Sainz, had ordered a lunch of plain fruits and plain toast— you were immediately confused. Suspicious even. Carlos eating plain toast was… unfathomable. 

You made your coffee and opted to just wait until Carlos could explain his choice of breakfast. The way you saw it was that he was restricting himself with such low calorie foods in the hope of shedding weight and hopefully then bettering his race. 

The coffee had finished pouring and you huffed as you picked up the cup and went to sit on the bed. 

“I can’t stop smiling.”

“I can see that. It’s like you slept with a hanger in your mouth.”

Sitting on the bed, you blew on your coffee and tried to focus on Rachel and Monica on the TV - and not how Carlos was currently his own worse enemy. It was no use to tell him off now. Reyes had told you how the Junior was like the Senior in the toilet being a sacred space. You don’t bother Carlos on the toilet. 

You had done that once and it was the only time Carlos had ever snapped at you. 

Something buzzed in your pocket. It was likely Oscar asking about lunch and so you went to set the coffee on the bedside table to free up your hands and respond - when you saw it. 

You recognised the Ferrari water bottle with the personalised 55 decoration. 

You also recognised the Antinal box of pills that were half opened beside it. 

Oh. 

Suddenly all the puzzle pieces clicked into place. The plain foods, the lack of forewarning as he jumped to the toilet, the impromptu nap. Carlos wasn’t unfit for Jeddah because he was overworking himself, Carlos was unfit for Jeddah because he had diarrhoea.  

Looking down at the familiar bottle of pills, your only question now was how in the fuck Carlos knew to take it. Sure, Antinal would’ve been your go to if you were hit with gastro or food poisoning or whatever it was that was now plaguing your boyfriend. Your auntie used to have a hoarded stock of the medication in her cupboard above the microwave. You swore that the stuff was magic. It was better than any of the medication you had found in the US or UK. Though, how Carlos had managed to get hold of Egyptian diarrhoea medication was beyond you. 

You looked back at the white dunks by the door and remembered how while you had been training with your brother, your boyfriend had been doing some PR for Saudi Arabia and touring the local streets. 

The door finally opened and out came Carlos, patting his stomach. You said nothing as he came to sit on the bed beside you, not questioning how you took his side. He wordlessly climbed back under the covers and you felt all the anger, all the worry wash out of you. All you felt now was genuine fondness for the sick boy beside you. 

“You tried the local food without me.”

It was a statement but Carlos still curled up beside you and mumbled an affirmative “Yes.” to your side. Your arm came up to wrap around him and start playing with his hair. 

“How the fuck did you find Antinal?”

“I asked Oscar.” 

“Oh, habibi.” You couldn’t help but croon as you had to imagine Carlos going to your brother, someone he admittedly didn’t get along with all too well and asking for help because he had stomach problems. Still, you knew Oscar wouldn’t have said anything or made jokes. No matter his feelings towards Carlos, Oscar wasn't like that. Besides, you had taught the young driver enough.

For example, to always have gastro medication. No matter what. 

Carlos didn’t saying anything and you didn’t feel the need to add anything. Instead, you slowly got up from sitting on top of the covers and came to slide yourself underneath them. You brought your arm back around Carlos and resumed your comforting massage as he rested beside you, eyes closed. You, however, were sipping on your coffee, half your attention on the 90s sitcom currently playing - “I can’t believe you didn’t know it was a line!” - and the blue and grey text bubbles between you and the driver you considered your little brother.

Oscar was now asking if dinner was an option since lunch was evidently now forgone that Carlos was asleep next to you. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Or so you thought was asleep. You blinked, looking down at the boyfriend you thought had drifted off again. 

“For what?” You said, dropping your phone and sliding down to bring your face to his. You lightly traced his face and saw the way his frown between his brows eased, his lips lifted slightly. 

“Ricciardo made a joke about my contract in front of Lewis. It’s why I went out for that bike ride and posted about it.” He admitted. You bit back any of the words that immediately came to mind and how you wanted to rip into the stupidity of letting someone like Daniel Ricciardo getting to him. Sure, there was some clear bad blood but you really had hoped Carlos wouldn’t have let it get to him. Danny was just a scorned ex after all.

“If anything, I should be mad that you went to explore restaurants without me." You said lightly. "What happened to us having one couple date a weekend?”

Carlos’ eyes blinked open at that as his smile grew. You felt warmth inside you bloom seeing that beautiful, beautiful smile of his. Your phone buzzed again and you turned over to pick it up and read the message from Oscar. You snorted. 

“What?” Carlos asked. 

“Oscar says he hopes you feel better.” 

“That’s nice of him.” Carlos said, sitting up slightly to reach over you and go for his water bottle. This made you sit up also and now you both had your backs to the headboard, sitting up in the bed. 

“I think he just wants you to race so he can get payback for Spa last year.” You said. Oscar’s next text thread confirmed this and you chuckled and went to pick up your coffee to take a sip. Carlos shook his head and went back to lay his head on the pillow. 

“When does this kick in?”

“The antinal?” You asked, grinning as you still couldn’t believe Carlos Sainz was using your Middle Eastern auntie’s magical cure for anything stomach related. “Maybe an hour after taking it, depending on how bad it is.” Carlos frowned and closed his eyes, shifting a lot as he tried to get comfortable back in the bed. Your grin fell slightly and you brought your hand back to his hair. 

“Sleep it off, habibi.”

“What are you going to do?” 

“Watch FRIENDS.” You said with a shrug. 

“I was supposed to watch it.”

“Not my fault.” You sassed back. “I’ll rewatch it with you again later. You just work on fixing your stomach and I’ll read through race strategies and debrief you later in case you can race.” You paused and took a sip of your coffee. “I also need to convince Lando to come to dinner.”

“Why?”

“Since you and I haven’t had dinner and I was supposed to be with Oscar for lunch but I’m here with you.” You explained. "He's wanting dinner plans."

“He saw you all of yesterday and this morning.” 

Carlos' complaints made you smile. “We’ll go out us four. You two can bond again.”

He only huffed. “When have we ever bonded?”

“When you got over yourself and asked him for antinal because you wouldn’t stop shitting?”

Carlos’ response was to reach his hand up and flick you on the nose. 

[citruslullabies]

Can we please have some more dog moments from Dogday please?

Sure can do sweetheart! Dog moments from Dogday💚

Dogday is well.. extremely loyal

He waits for you every day, waiting patiently for you to come back to him. Fearful that one day you won't

But you always do, and he can't help but adore the loving hands that return to him and save him from himself and his story

The clock ticked effortlessly, each tick feeling like an hour but it had only been a minute. The large canine sighed as he waited by the door of the cabin you all called home, with Biscuits nuzzled into his side as he waited. Peanuts waited too, howling sometimes as he felt you took too long to come home and Cubby just kept her distance from everything until she knew you were home.

His floppy ears drooped even more, eyes weary as he thought of any possibility. Even after you had all left the factory, his heart still couldn't fathom the fact that they were all safe and he still worried for your safety when you were away. In a way, being in the outside world rather than the factory made him fear for you more. So when he heard the fumbling of keys and saw the door open, he immediately got up and greeted you with a wagging tail. "Angel! You're home. How was your day? Did anything happen at work?" He asked, following you around like a lost puppy dog when he was a grown man. He listened to you rant and ramble, listening and just glad you were home. He would lay by that door and rot if you hadn't.

Dogday doesn't like baths

He can tolerate them but... He isn't gonna like em

And he has no clue why, when he was a human he loved taking hot showers. Not it just felt like an inconvenience to him

Dogday grumbled as you forced his oversized body into the tub before turning on the faucet, ignoring his groans and stares of displeasure as his arms were folded over his golden chest. The warm water felt nice but something about having wet fur just irked him.

He felt your gentle hands rub the soap into his fur, and he didn't mind that.. he just didn't like when you'd get a plastic bowl and fill it up with water before dunking it on his head or wherever he was soapy. Grumbling every time you did and shaking as payback, getting you and everything surrounding you soaked. You turned your back for a moment, grabbing a brush to brush a knot you found in his fur.. and he took the chance. Slowly, he lifted himself up and tried to sneak out of the bathtub but was quickly caught red-handed.

"Dogday!" You scolded, walking back over and ignoring his big guilty puppy eyes as you got him back in the bathtub. He huffed and wanted to fight against you, but just gave up. You're lucky he loved you so much.

Time for the angst guys

Remember how I said he'd just lay and rot in front of the door if you didn't come back? Yeahhh..

He waited, and oh how he waited so very patiently. Waiting for hours with each tick that echoed through the house for you.

It had been days and he was scared, wanting to go out and look for you but you had told him to stay. And he was loyal to your demands... But he found himself too heavy to move and take care of himself or anyone else inside as long as you were gone. He continued to wait, ignoring a worried Poppy and Kissy. Ignoring the worried stares and even Cubby coming along and trying to get him to move despite her distaste for him.

He stayed and waited. And waited. And waited. Your scent started to leave the house, and that broke his heart. You smelled like nostalgia and home, like a fresh baked pie on thanksgiving but the home was now empty and abandoned. The pie now rotten and the good smell fading, all he could smell was the rain outside and the sadness he felt.

Nothing could make him move, and he continued to wait for you. And he would stay waiting for as long as it takes.

Thank you for requesting hon!

[nightwolf14292]

As much as I love TimKon, I prefer TimBern and it's mainly because of this:

“Bernard says I sacrifice myself like it's a bad thing.”

“But it's all I've ever known.”

“All that my family has ever been taught.”

Tim, out of all of the BatFamily members is the one that never really had a choice.

Bruce had a choice to become Batman. He almost retired, until things went badly again and he realized how much more awful Gotham would be if he did.

Dick had a choice to become Robin. When Bruce fired him he could've finished college and lived a normal life, but he chose to continue on as Nightwing.

Jason had a choice to become Robin. And while his mind had been messed with after being dunked in the Lazarus Pit, he had a choice to become Red Hood, too.

Damian had a choice to become Robin. He fought hard for the role, and seems to genuinely enjoy doing it.

Tim didn't have a choice to become Robin. Yes, no one actually forced him into the role, but he saw what had happened to Bruce after Jason's death (such as how he became more violent), and knew that Bruce needed a Robin to keep himself sane. He tried going to Dick, but Dick said the best he could do was help as Nightwing as he wasn't willing to be Robin again. So Tim felt like he had to take up the role, because Batman, his greatest hero, would lose it if he didn't.

Tim also didn't have a choice to give up being a vigilante, unlike the others. When he got replaced as Robin, Bruce was trapped in time and everyone but him thought he was dead. He didn't have Dick's experience of going out soul searching and deciding that being a hero was what he wanted in life, he had to almost immediately take up a new secret identity and start going on missions so he could find out what happened to Bruce.

I love TimBern so much, because Bernard is Tim's connection to civilian life. If you're a hero dating a hero, even when you're being civilians and doing civilian things, there's always going to be the knowledge of who you both are really, and the missions you've been on together (Such as Tim looking at Kon and remembering things like when he tried to clone him because he was ‘dead’). I feel like with Bernard, Tim can be a full on civilian and forget about the hero life for a while, and that makes it special.

Also I just think Bernard is neat :3