#now tim hug your wife

[britanniabay]

Not saying this is the angle at all (nor that this is even what it depicts), but I would love for this to have been a snap of Anne's reaction to the hug between Zara and Tim. Such a sweet moment nonetheless.

[timmydraker]

CW: extremely dubious consent, assault and p3d0phillia (not romanticised), self-victimisation blaming, sui attempt. Be safe, be kind.

Tim’s parents mainly had a child for the financial gain as well as popularity.

As soon as Tim was born he was a beautiful and cute little thing that made all conversations at Galas and even and meetings start and flow with ease. People always complimented the bright young boy who could speak as well as a three year old after just turning two and had the cutest little walk in his tiny suit.

When he gets older, Tim understands this and knows that his role is to get deals and funding for his parents.

It’s never out right said, but they always treat him kinda and praise him when he scores them a deal of any kind.

So, he masters it. He learns what people prefer the sweet, endearing little boy and who prefers to see an upcoming business man. He figured out when to talk to a wife over a husband, when to not bother trying or when to be upfront with what he wants so he can get it.

It’s when he’s almost ten, wearing a new suit from a new designer his mother had started to prefer, that one of the older men give him a compliment that just sits wrong to Tim.

It takes him a while to figure it out, and when he does research on it and ends up finding a wiki article on how to tell if someone is attracted to you, he assumes that it’s completely normal. He guess the man thought he was cute like everyone else, but then he reads more.

It’s, quite unsurprisingly, a Reddit post about seduction that tips him off to what the man really wanted from him.

Tim, ever the researcher that he is at heart, properly learns everything he can about sex and seduction and tells himself it’s completely fine for him to do this both because it’s for the family business and he won’t actually have sex. He’s a kid, so they won’t really want him, right?

Of course this is the nativity of the child that he is talking and his still solid trust in humanity keeping him from seeing people for what they really are.

Tim meets Dr Hinders at the next Gala, the man who looked at him like a piece of candy, and gives him a charming little smile and casually touches his forearm like the articles suggested. He plays it off as nothing special outwardly, though he makes sure to leave his eyes lingering on the man’s mouth.

He doesn’t remember much of what actually happened, only entering a car and feeling warm caresses turn harsh and painful.

Tim lays in the man’s bed that night and finds that he hates himself more than the man who used him even as Tim started to push back. He blames himself for not being smarter, for not realising that if he could look at Tim that way, he could do far worse.

But then the man says to Tim, “I think I will endorse your parents, Timothy. You are… quite convincing.”

Tim hears the man’s sickening laugh and hates how success stirs in his gut. Dr Hinders in the lead researching of a project his father had been practically begging to be apart of and now he will.

Jack will be so happy with Tim.

As he is dropped off at home, he runs a icey bath and sobs to himself as he enters. His ass burns as much as his shame, his shoulders ach from where his arms were forced back, yet somehow worst of all is his hip. The hand shaped bruise is giant compared to his own, a brand of sorts to remind him that he handed himself over like a whore.

Yet Tim respects whores, because they need to do it to survive more often than not.

The next day his father picks him up and actually hugs him. Its the first time since he was three that it’s happened and Tim can’t even be in pain from the contact to his aches as he hears his father rant about how proud he is of his son, how he did so well and deserves to go out shopping for a camera.

Tim frowns at the mention of Dr Hinders asking if he could continue to have chats with Tim every now and again yet says yes just to make his father proud.

Janet stared at him all the while with a knowing look, one that screams years of painful experience and burden that she seems to recognise in him.

He pointedly ignores it and goes upstairs.

If Tim this is the result, his father’s love, Tim is going to have to keep doing this.

He just… needs to find a way where it won’t be as painful.

By the time Tim becomes Robin, he’s well known in the elite Gotham circle as ‘bunny’. Find him at an event and play your card right and he’ll come home with you and give you a night you’ll never forget, all you have to do is promise to send some money to his parents or pay for a trip for them.

Most of them pay for trips when they realise that Tim can stay for while nights if they’re away.

He’s eleven when he first goes to a man’s house, already crying silently as he prepped himself, and there’s three others waiting.

He doesn’t even try to back out and upon returning home the next day finds himself holding his head under the iced water a little longer than safe.

Tim doesn’t go through with it and instead goes bat watching.

He tells himself that he’s the one consenting, that it’s okay because he’s doing the seducing, and shoves down the voice that tells him that no amount of temptation should allow anyone older than him to give in to violating a child. He lies to himself about how he prefers it when they are rough and cruel so he can feel better shouting hating them, because the kind touches and longing looks he gets from the ones who let him take the lead make him feel like he is in control, like it could actually be okay, and he knows that it’s not.

It took him a while and soon it will be too late, he’ll be eighteen soon, but he does know that it’s fucked up.

He just ignores that because it makes his dad happy, even after he goes into a coma and remarries.

Somehow he managed to keep it hidden from Bruce for almost five years, but as usual, he finds out.

Tim doesn’t tell him, no he’d never be able to do that.

It’s none other than Dr Hinders.

Bruce host a Gala at the end of summer and winter every year, which is both she he stays relevant and so he doesn’t have to do multiple and not have as much time for Batman.

It’s at one of these Galas that he’s talking with a few men and Dr Hinders says, “You’re a lucky man Bruce, to have Tim with you all the time.”

Bruce smiles proudly as the other two men give each other looks, both knowing full well that Bruce Wayne doesn’t like their kind and probably doesn’t know what Hinders is referring to.

“I am indeed. He’s a smart lad, my Tim. Single handedly raised my company from the ground after my ah, relaxed nature.”

The two men laugh heartily and one manages to make an excuse, abandoning his friend who’s about to shit tears as Hinders leans forward and says, “I’d kill to have him all the time. You know I was his first?”

Bruce is a master of poker faces, he has to be with all the masks he owns in both a literal and metaphorical sense. But his expression still falters for a moment, eyes narrowing as a sick feeling build in his gut.

“What ever do you mean?”

The man besides them stares at the ground in pure fear, knowing that Bruce is one of the most powerful men and he’s been included in the many who took from his financial heir.

Hinders grins a sadistic thing and gives Bruce a look to say ‘oh come on’, “Now, Bruce. Someone had to break him in, teach him the ropes. How else would Jack and Janet get any funding if not for whoring out their son?”

Bruce feels the glass in his hand strain from his tight grip.

“I mean, he definitely had a lot of practice by the time I got to him a second time, but an ass like that comes naturally. Hey, was it you who bought him that red lace? Me and the boys at work still have a photo of him in it up in the lunch room-“

Dr Hinders isn’t ready for the punch Bruce lands on his face, square on his nose with a loud crunch.

A few people turn around and soon everyone is, only to be met with an image of Bruce Wayne that or a cult shows the rage boiling off of him and raining the air with a dangerous aura.

The way he growls is enough to shake the room, somehow worse than Batman’s voice, “everybody get the fuck out of my house.”

Some people get their things calmly and leave, but most hurry like the buildings on fire.

Dick and Damian, the only ones attending that night other than Tim, rush up to him and ask what happened but Bruce is too busy staring at his son across the room.

Tim is frozen, hands cupped to his chest and Bruce knows he heard everything just by the tears in his eyes and how he immediately starts repeating ‘I’m sorry’ over and over and over.

Bruce approaches him quickly but waits for Tim to move into his arms. He wraps his boy up and squeezes him tight, “it’s okay, my sweet. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise. This isn’t your fault. I’m so sorry I didn’t notice.”

Dick is getting frustrated now, wanting to know what happened to his baby brother, yet when he hears Tim’s response his heart is too busy shattering apart.

“It is! I go to them, I let them fuck me so dad can get his deals! It’s my fault! I shouldn’t have done it in the first place but even then I kept going all for a dad who doesn’t love me. I hate it, I hate it so much but it’s what I’m good for!”

Bruce lets out a sob and moves to look at Tim, “No. No, don’t you dare say that. You are so much more, worth so much more than your body. You are my son, you are Red Robin, you are a brother and a grandson and you are so fucking special. I’m so sorry Tim, I’m sorry you feel that way but it’s okay, I’ll help you. Those men will never touch you again, I swear it.”

Tim breaks down and collapses into his father’s arms, sobbing and wailing years of abuse out.

Dick sobs too but manages to get through it enough to remove Damian from the situation even as the young boys eyes are filled with rage and concern for his brother.

It takes a while, mainly for Tim to chose that he will take the pity and blame from the masses if it means the men who hurt him will pay.

He gives a list to Bruce and cries when he sees that Alfred himself is crying.

If some of the men on that list end up dead in prison and Jason seems a proud of himself, that’s no one’s worry.

Damian refuses to leave Tim’s side for a long time, going with him every where when out in public and not giving up his sword even when the mall security insist he has to.

The photo’s taken of Tim, most of which he wasn’t aware of, only manage to circulate for a few hours before Oracle manages to systematically remove each and every single one with the help of a few hackers and Cyborg.

Duke may also leak to a few of his friends that some of the men are trying to bail out of prison and shouldn’t be welcome in Gotham, and if one of those friends is Cass with a wood plank with nails in it, Kate defiantly didn’t see and help her make it.

[alisonwritesimagines]

If Bruce and Batmom Divorced ~Bruce Wayne Imagine~

Summary: The final straw was Bruce officially cheating on you.

Author’s Note: I saw a TikTok about a comic of Catwoman having Bruce’s daughter and I thought of the angst between Batmom and Bruce.

This is not canon to the Batmom Universe

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: Mentions of divorce, angst, cheating

Do not repost this anywhere!

You were a smart person after living with Bruce Wayne who is also Batman. You learned his tricks and gadgets while being his wife. So when you left without word the day after finding out Selina was pregnant with Bruce’s child, everyone grew into a panic.

“It’s like she just disappeared,” Tim said in disbelief.

“Now I know how she felt when I left the mansion,” Dick says.

“Where could she have gone?” Jason asked.

“Alfred, are you sure she didn’t say anything to you before she left?” Cassandra asked him with a sad and desperate look.

“If you think, she would disappear without telling me, you’re wrong. I do know where she is however, she asked me not to say anything. She only gave it to me for emergencies.”

“Then tell us, Alfred! We won’t tell Bruce,” Stephanie begged.

“I’m afraid I cannot do such thing. Not until she calls me and tells me that she is ready.”

Selina had showed up to your doorstep one afternoon and told you the news of her being pregnant with Bruce's child. You spend the first hour in shock before gathering your stuff that you had packed and left without saying goodbye.

It broke everyone when you left. Even Bruce.

Bruce would rather kill Joker and all the villains if it meant keeping you with him. He would murder every single person with bad in them if it meant he could have you with him. But what he did that finally broke you would never change your mind.

Then came the day when you finally showed up. But with a surprise.

"Mom?" Dick asked in shock.

"Hi honey," you smiled softly. Dick engulfed you into a quick hug before looking at you.

"Are you okay? How are you?" Dick asked.

"I'm okay. I'm doing well," you tell him. "Is Bruce home?"

"Yeah. He's home."

"I need to talk to him," you tell him.

"Yeah. Okay."

You followed Dick inside the manor and found Bruce sitting at the dining room table with Alfred and Damien.

"Ummi!" Damien said the moment he saw you.

He rushed over and hugged you tightly before realizing your condition.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's okay sweetie."

"It's good to see you Ms. Y/n," Alfred said, giving you a hug as well.

"I need to talk to Bruce really quickly. Alone," you tell everyone.

Everyone rushed out of the room so you two could be alone.

"Y/n-"

"I don't want to hear you talk Bruce. I am here to have you sign these," you say as you took out the divorce papers from your purse; "And I am here to let the kids know that I am okay."

"Y/n, can we talk about this? Is the baby mine?" Bruce asked referring to your pregnant bump.

"It's yours. But I don't need you for them. I am going to raise this child alone and we do not need you. You are having a child with Selina so if you want to be a father, go be that child's father because you have no right to be in my life anymore," you tell him.

"I put up with so much with you. And I am done. I am exhausted and being away from you for the past four months made me feel so free and relaxed. I have a good home now and it's in a good city and good neighborhood. I just want you to sign these papers, and let me go."

"I don't want to let you go. I don't want to lose you," Bruce said, looking up at you with tears in his eyes.

"Bruce. You lost me when you went to Selina after you told me you wouldn't go back to her," you tell him, tearing up as well.

"At least let me give you alimony so you don't have to work anymore. If I am going to lose you, at least let me do something good for you one last time," Bruce begged.

"Fine. But I don't want contact with you. I'll talk to the kids gladly and they are more than welcome to visit me or live with me but I am done with you Bruce. Until our child asks about you and wants to see you, then I will tell them about you and that they can visit you with the other kids as supervision. But for now, I don't want anything to do with you," you tell him.

"Y/n-"

"You can mail the paperwork to my lawyer," you tell Bruce before walking out. You found Damien and Dick standing by the door after you opened it. You gave them a hug and a kiss on the cheek before walking out. You looked over at Alfred and gave him a small nod.

Alfred walked over to the two boys and handed Dick a piece of paper.

"If you kids want to visit her," Alfred tells them before walking off.

Damien rushed out after you. He wrapped his arms around you, stopping your tracks.

“Don’t leave me Ummi. Please.”

“I’m sorry Damien. Alfred gave my address to you kids so if you want to visit me, you can. But I need to go right now,” you tell your son. Damien nodded before letting you go. You kissed his head once more before getting into your car and driving off.

----

Bruce never interacted with you again after that day. He knew where you lived due to following the kids over to visit you. But he never went down to talk to you. He knew that you were stubborn and that you were holding your ground on not wanting to see him again. He just wished that he could take everything back to have you back in his arms.

The years went on and the kids began to grow up and move out of the house. That was until he got a knock on the door one day.

A girl who looked too much like you stood in front of him as she stared up at him. She couldn’t be older than ten.

"Are you Bruce Wayne?" She asked him.

"Yes I am."

"Hi! I'm Ella. I'm your daughter," she introduced.

"Ella," Bruce sighed in awe. He kneeled down to her height so he can look at her better. "Where's your mother?"

"She doesn't know I'm here. Which reminds me. I need to call her to tell her that I'm okay and that I'm sorry for running away to find you," Ella tells him.

"She will definitely have a heart attack. Come on," Bruce said, holding her hand.

He watched as Ella talked on the phone with you before she looked up at him.

"Mama wants to talk to you," she said, handing the phone over to him.

"Hi, Y/n."

"Is she okay? Is my baby okay?" You asked.

"She's okay. I got her."

"I don't know how on Earth she managed to get to you! I know I said I never wanted to see you again but please bring her back home. We can talk about her seeing you every weekend or something," you tell Bruce.

"Of course."

"I know you know where I live. Just come over with her please. Now," you say.

"I will."

Bruce took Ella back home where you waited for them.

"You young lady are grounded!" You sternly tell your daughter.

"But mom-"

"No buts. Go to your room!" You ordered her. Ella hugged her father before running to her room.

"Y/n-"

"Thank you for bringing her home safely. I can drop her off every weekend if you're not busy for her to see you," you tell Bruce.

"If you think that's best for her."

"She’s been asking to meet you,” you tell him. Bruce stayed silent for a moment.

“How are you?”

“Fine. How are you and Selina? Have you two been raising your child together nicely?” You asked him.

“We aren’t together. She put the child up for adoption,” Bruce explains.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“And I’m sorry for everything. Are you happy?” Bruce asked you.

“I’ve been better.”

“You know, I never stopped thinking about you.”

You stared at him for a moment.

“I’ll drop her off next weekend after she’s grounded. You can have her for the weekend as well as Father’s Day. I’ll have my lawyer draft up a new custody agreement,” you tell Bruce.

“You could always come with her,” Bruce said.

“No. Like I said years ago Bruce. I’m done with you. I can forgive you. But you also proved to me that you will never love me as much as I loved you,” you tell him.

“I’m sorry Y/n. For everything,” Bruce said before walking out of your home.

[sea-lanterns]

SILENT HILL

synopsis: (slasher! AU) you travel to an old town to find your missing wife.

featuring: dehya

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader (though she becomes more bold later on), dom! character who gets more subby later on, mentions of blood, reader is grieving, reader gets chased, transfem! dehya (she has a di.ck), fing.ering, unprotected se.x, cream.pie, masked se.x, size difference, size ki.nk, lap se.x, reader passes out, probably ooc, heavy pwp.

art credits: gokurakugai

It had been a while since you last came to this town. Through the thick fog and semi-chilly air, you took a deep breath and let your body relax after the long car ride. You had finally arrived at the small town that plagued your thoughts for months; Silent Hill…a quiet and eerie town that was the root cause of your recent sleepless nights, after you had mysteriously received a letter from your long deceased wife telling you to come here. 

You looked down at the faded envelope in your hand, the handwriting of your wife; Dehya, was unmistakable to a grieving widow such as yourself. Though it had been three years since she disappeared and “died” of unknown causes, you knew you had to come here. If your wife was still out there, still alive somehow and living in this rickety old town, then you would drive any distance just to see her again. 

Slamming your car door shut, you began making your way towards the town on a dimly lit path. Whether this was a hoax or not, you were clinging onto that string of hope that it was somehow real. After all, this town was known for its conspiracy theories and stories of cults and rituals. If any place were to have things that defied death and logic, it would be here.  

The town of Silent Hill was an ugly one. It was hard to feel any semblance of hope when everything was cloaked in a blurry gray. You had forgotten how mundane it was to live here, the residents of Silent Hill always appearing depressed or anxious. You felt a shiver go down your spine when a possum scurried across the road, so close to your feet and making you stumble. 

“Dehya–!” you stopped yourself before you could finish your sentence, shock coursing through your body when you remembered Dehya wasn’t with you anymore. Whenever the slightest of things scared you, you would always call her name and she’d come running to comfort you and defend you from anything. But now she isn't here by your side…

‘Oh…’ Your shock disappeared and replaced itself with grief, wanting nothing more than to run into your wife’s arms again and have her hold you close. You closed your eyes and remembered how bright her smile was, a motivator to why you were here in the first place, before carrying on towards the gloomy motel where you’d be staying for the foreseeable future. 

After checking in with the motel clerk and moving your bags in with you, you settled down in your room and plopped down on the bed. This motel was severely outdated, the hideously patterned wallpaper peeling off the walls, the ceilings stained with something yellow and questionable, if your wife were here, she’d tell you “at the very least I’m here with you!”

You felt yourself crack a small smile at the memory, loving how positive she was no matter the circumstance. 

“I might get mold poisoning staying here,” You said to no one in particular, almost like you were trying to talk to Dehya beside you. 

��No you won’t! I won’t let my princess get sick on my watch.”

You could almost hear her laugh as she said that, her chivalrous attitude making you swoon even after all these years. No matter how much time had passed, you would always love how she treated you like a princess. 

“...I’ll save you this time, Dehya.” You said to yourself again, hugging one of the pillows to your chest and snuggling into it. It was far from the softest pillow you’ve ever felt, but during this time of vulnerability, it felt like the most comforting thing in the world. “You don’t have to save me this time. I’m going to find you.” 

With all those years of regret and guilt building up, you let it shrivel away and burn into motivation. This was a lead. One step closer to finding out what happened to your wife, and possibly finding her. 

You closed your eyes and went to bed, exhausted after spending several hours on the road. 

You got up earlier than usual. Usually you would sleep in late on days like these, too depressed to even crawl out of bed, but this time you had a purpose to get up. Your body was already awake before your alarm went off, sliding out of bed and getting dressed to find some answers. 

Even in the mornings, Silent Hill was a town of misery. The sky was still a dull, muted gray, and the air was even chillier than before. You pulled your coat even tighter around your figure, your nose letting out a small sneeze as you stepped into the outside world. 

You would spend the entire day just walking around, asking locals about the whereabouts of your wife, if they’d seen her or even heard of her. You would always be met with a dead end answer, but you wouldn’t give up. That letter was sent to you for a reason, and you were determined to get some closure on your wife if that was the last thing you did. 

The sky began to grow darker the longer you stayed out. Your fingers and your toes were stinging from the pain, almost numb from how cold you were. Your heart felt heavy, your body leaning against a nearby wall to catch your breath from running around town. You were exhausted, but you couldn’t give up. Not now, you still weren’t done. 

Deeper within the alleyway, you heard heavy footsteps, causing you to perk up and immediately regain some stamina. Maybe there was somewhere in there who could help you? You pushed yourself off the wall and began making your way deeper within the alleyway, the street lights turning on and casting the area in a cold, white glow. 

“Uhm…excuse me,” you turned a corner and saw a tall, muscular figure facing away from you, wearing something odd on top of their head. “Can I just have a moment of your time? I am looking for my wife, and…”

You trailed off when the figure slowly turned towards you, wielding what appeared to be a giant blade in their hand, and dressed in a beige, tattered up cloth that revealed most of their muscular figure. The figure had no face, or rather, their face was obscured by a strange, pyramid-looking helmet that sat on their head, looming over you like a great executioner of death. 

“Ah…” You had no idea what you were feeling right now. Shock, fear, confusion? You had no idea who you were looking at either, but at the very least you could discern that they had the figure of a woman. “S-Sorry…I didn’t mean to bother you…” 

What the fuck was that.

Your eyes glanced at the blade in their hand, the light from the streetlight shimmering across it and showing the faint splatters of crimson on the edge. Blood. You gulped and took a step back, the pyramid head figure tilting their head and taking a step forward. 

“I…I will leave now. Goodnight!” You whimpered and immediately began walking away, but your fears quickly caught up to you when the figure started walking towards you as well. 

You continued moving away but she kept getting closer, taking long strides towards you with her long legs. Immediately, you began getting nervous, walking a bit faster before breaking out into a run. 

Well, that was a mistake. Because now the Pyramid Head woman began running after you as well, her heavy footsteps thudding through the street and dragging her rusty blade across the ground. The noise was horrible, a grating sound that made the hairs on your skin prick like needles. You just wanted to find your wife! What were the chances that you’d run into a deranged, monstrous serial killer?!

As you continued running, you let out a shout for help, looking around desperately to see if there was anyone out tonight. Unfortunately for you, it seemed everyone had decided to go home early, all the porch lights turned off and leaving you the only one alive with the woman. 

The grating noise of her blade met your ears again, causing your heart rate to spike like crazy. You began to run your way back to your motel room, but it was on the other side of town and at this point your body began to exhaust. There was a sharp burning sensation in your lungs, the cold air not helping you breathe whatsoever as you felt yourself lose steam. Damn, it had been a while since you ran like you meant it, Dehya did always say you should workout at the gym with her to build some stamina, but you never really took her seriously.  

You definitely regret it now. Your legs buckled and you found yourself collapsing in the midst of another dark alleyway, the pavement scratching up your knees and making you grunt in pain. No matter how hard you tried, your body was tired, cold, and weak. After spending the entire day outside and begging for help, this was your limit. 

You stumbled on your footing and found yourself at the dead end of the alleyway. A large, rusted gate towering over you and cornering you with nowhere else to run. The grating noise of the killer’s blade drew closer and closer, trapping you in the box you’ve locked yourself in. 

“Dehya…” you whimpered, feeling all hope drain away as you scuffled to the edge of the gate, too weak to stand or even attempt to climb the gate for your survival. Was this it? So this was how you’d find your wife, by dying at the hands of a killer and joining her in the afterlife. 

You sniffled and looked up to see the looming Pyramid Head staring down at you, rusted blade in hand and tattered clothing blowing hauntingly in the wind. She looked almost like a ghost, like someone that was not meant to be here but was. The wind continued to howl, the silence between you two almost deafening. 

“...I’m sorry. I just want to find my wife.” You whimpered, still gazing at the Pyramid Head woman. “Is this my punishment for that?”

You were spewing random nonsense at this point. You were so tired and cold, your body shivering and looking like a frail little bunny in the eyes of the Pyramid Head. She tilted her head, almost conveying a unique kind of communication despite her gristley appearance. 

“...”

“...”

Neither of you spoke for a few seconds after that, your head starting to throb and making you wince in pain. You felt so dead at this point, your head feeling heavy as you lowered yourself closer to the ground, looking like a kicked dog. “Dehya…I really wish you were here right now.” You would imagine her protecting you, fiercely telling you to run or standing her ground and being your knight in shining armor. 

“Run baby! I'll protect you!”

You can’t, and you felt the bitter coldness swallow you in. Were you going to die from the killer or hypothermia? You didn’t know anymore at this point. 

Your eyes began to droop, watching as the Pyramid Head walked closer and closer to you. She swung the rusted blade over her shoulder, her hand reaching for your head before your vision blurred and you dropped limp to the ground. 

I’m sorry I couldn’t find you, Dehya. 

Your body felt very, very warm. Was this what heaven felt like? It felt like Dehya cuddling you from behind again, spooning you in her muscular arms and running her hands all over your tummy. You missed this, the feeling of laying with someone so warm and gentle. Perhaps you really were dead and this was your eternal fate, to be cuddled by your lover for the end of time. 

You wouldn’t mind that. However, your other senses began to awaken, telling you that you were merely asleep. Your touch began to come back, the feeling of a soft bed and warmth beneath you. Your hearing began to come back, the sounds of a soft fire crackling in the distance. Taste, smell, you tasted the dryness in your mouth, and inhaled the smell of burning wood and ash. 

Finally, your sight. Though you were initially reluctant to open your eyes, your body did so anyway, letting your eyes land on the rotting ceiling above. Well…this was a sharp contrast to the other sensations you’ve experienced.

Your neck craned to look at the side, your vision still somewhat blurry before focusing on the figure beside you. 

Dehya…? 

You could vaguely make out her long, brown hair and warm smile, joy filling your chest at the familiar sight. 

Dehya…? Dehya…!

You closed your eyes for a brief moment and opened them again, expecting to see your wife more clearly, but instead being greeted with the Pyramid Head woman that chased you before. Instantly, all that joy vanished as quickly as it came, fear and shock filling you and making you hyperventilate. 

“Wha…Wha…!” Your eyes went wide as you gasped for air, the panic settling in that the sight of your wife was a mere hallucination. A delusion.

The Pyramid Head loomed over you, her height absolutely intimidating and making you nearly whimper upon instinct. She was even taller up close, her muscles defined and scars exposed, looking like a modern day Amazonian if you had to describe her…

You scrambled on the bed you were on, backing up against the headboard and looking at the woman in disbelief. Were you going insane? You saw your wife! Why was she here? Why hasn’t she killed you yet? You gasped when she suddenly dropped the blade she was holding, the metal hitting the floor and causing it to echo across the walls. The sound made you flinch, and upon seeing how afraid you were, the Pyramid Head reached her hand over to touch you. 

“No–!” You flinched, but she didn’t move away, a warm, heavy hand cupping your face and holding it firmly. It was quite shocking actually, to see just how large her hands were in comparison to your face, squishing it with ease and making your lips form a cute pout up at her. The Pyramid Head tilted her head to the side, almost as if she was thinking underneath that behemoth of a helmet. 

‘Soft.’ 

Though the Pyramid Head was a quiet one, she couldn’t help but enjoy squishing your face. Despite the biting cold of October, your face held a familiar warmth that the figure could not put her finger on. Strange…she should’ve slaughtered you by now, but it seems like you were the one person that came here to not be punished for their sins. 

Perhaps, it was your desperate attachment for your wife that made the Pyramid Head manifest in a more…loving form. 

“Mmpf…” You attempted to speak, but she held your face in such a grip that your words came out muffled. Upon seeing that you were trying to communicate, she let go, but not before using one of her thumbs to prod at your lips, forcibly making you open your mouth. 

Well, this is very awkward. 

You let out a yelp when she suddenly pushed her thumb into your mouth, brushing over your tongue and seemingly admiring how small it was. Compared to her, everything about you was so much smaller, something that the Pyramid Head seemed to love. She was so confused, tilting her head as she continued sticking her fingers in your mouth, feeling the soft muscle of your inner cheek. 

“Hey–pffck–” You had enough, pushing her hands away and coughing as you wiped the spit from your lips. “You can’t just stick your fingers in someone’s mouth without their consent! That’s weird!” 

You hadn’t expected to raise your voice at this gristly-looking killer, but to your surprise, instead of getting angry and chopping you to bits, the Pyramid Head looked surprised and jostled back, her hands raising in the air as if to prove their innocence. 

That…motion. 

Your eyes widened as a flash of recognition triggered in your memory. Dehya. Now why was that appearing again? There’s no way that this completely coincidental motion would remind you of your wife. Surely not…

But still, there was a gut feeling in your chest, telling you to try again. You looked up at the Pyramid Head with curiosity, before uttering her name hesitantly on your lips. “D…Dehya?” You didn’t expect any results to be honest, but your breath hitched when she tilted her head, almost like she recognized it. “...No, it can’t be.” 

You felt your heart start to thump wildly in your chest, before you had an idea. If this truly was your Dehya, then she would always wear her wedding band on her left hand, engraved with your initials. “Can I see your left hand?” you asked softly, causing the Pyramid Head to oblige almost immediately. Cute, she was almost like an obedient dog. 

She gave you her left hand, shock coursing through your face when you actually saw the wedding band on her finger. Though a bit discolored and dirtied from being in a grim state, you could make out your initials on the front of the band. 

“Oh…my god.” You whispered out, excitement and shock coursing through your veins. “It really is you.” At this point, you didn’t care that your wife appeared as a horrifying killer, as your mind began to close the gaps and find other similarities in the Pyramid Head. Your fear must’ve blocked out all the clues, because as your eyes trailed over most closely, the resemblance –besides her face which was still hidden– was clear. 

You hugged her, your smaller frame clinging to her like a leech while you buried your face in her chest. The Pyramid Head –or rather, Dehya– let out a grunt when you suddenly engulfed her, her large arms instinctively coming around to wrap around your figure. Immediately, warmth and familiarity raised in your senses, her taut muscles flexing around you and making you break down into tears at being in her embrace again. “Dehya…I’ve missed you.” 

Dehya grumbled and looked down at you, running a calloused palm over your cheek. Even though she didn’t speak much, it was clear that she (or this manifestation of her) felt a deep connection with you and couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you. Almost like instinct, she pulled you closer to her, your body straddling her thighs and making you yelp in surprise. 

“Mmmm…Mine…” She croaked under the mask, her voice raspy yet very much like your Dehya. Her voice sent so many shivers down your spine, a sound that you’ve missed after all these years of being alone. “I’m yours, Dehya. All yours. I’m not leaving.”

She seemed pleased by the response, her arms scooping you up by the thighs and pushing you down on the bed. You gasped when you felt your back plummet into the mattress, her tall figure looming over you and trapping you under her large frame. “I..I see you’ve missed me too.” 

She nodded and let out an almost primal growl, wanting to get closer to you if not for her helmet blocking the way. She seemed frustrated at the fact and pawed at your clothes, her blunt fingers wanting to tear off every pesky cloth you wore. “Off…” She grunted, the sound muffled but command clear. “Take it off…” 

You let out a small giggle at how eager she was being. After three years of not seeing each other, it seems that she was very touch starved. “Sure baby, I’ll take them off for you.” 

Though you weren’t sure if she could see clearly, she was definitely keeping her eyes on you as you removed each article of clothing. Everything felt so sudden but so comforting, your nudity being revealed by the second as Dehya resisted the urge to just pounce on you right there. 

Finally, you laid there in your nude glory, sliding your panties off and dropping them before Dehya couldn’t hold back anymore. She grabbed you by the waist and easily hoisted you upwards, plopping you on her lap and making your bare entrance sit atop her clothed member. Though it was limp before, it seems that just watching you strip was enough to get her hard, stiffening under your touch and rising to life.

She let out a soft groan and moved her palm to rest on your ass, clearly aroused and wanting you now. But, since this was Dehya we were talking about, she held back and gently swirled her thumb over your clit, wanting you to be wet enough first before taking her. After all, Dehya knew more than anyone how big she actually was…

“I’m already wet…” you pouted, wanting her to fuck you right away. Yet despite your needy pleas, Dehya shook her head, letting out a grunt of disapproval and continuing to finger your pussy. She knew better than to cave into your whines, and you wanted to comment playfully on that, if not for your lewd whimpers leaving your throat. “Dehya…!”

Her fingers were quite wide and thick, pushing past your folds and thrusting at a gentle pace. She really was a gentle woman, even in this new form of hers, waiting for you to become wet enough so she wouldn’t hurt you. God, this felt so nostalgic, your wife’s fingers burying them all the way down to her palm, before adding a finger or two to stretch you to her liking. 

You threw your head back at the sensation, your moans echoing through the room and making you arch your back in pleasure. She continued fingering you, admiring your lovely form and keeping a rough hand on your ass. “Good…?” she asked softly, sliding her fingers out before shoving them back in. “Good.” You repeated, eyes fluttering shut in bliss while she plunged in repeatedly, filling you up on just her fingers alone. 

If you felt this full from just her fingers, you could only imagine how full you’d feel with her actual cock inside you. 

Finally gauging that you were wet enough, Dehya slid her slimy fingers out of you and seemed satisfied at the aftermath. By now, she was already rock hard, her member straining against her dress and forming a tent under your lap. She was so cute…you’d remember how desperate yet controlled Dehya was whenever she was horny for you, wanting to wreck you into an incomprehensible mess but restraining herself because you were simply too delicate for her. She’s always treated you like a princess, and even now she was your knight in shining armor. Albeit, she wore less of a metal plate and more of a metal…pyramid head. 

“You look so pent up.” You commented suddenly, causing her to look up at you. You smiled and gently ran a hand across her dress, feeling her muscles tense up before relaxing when you trailed lower. “Don’t you want to get there already?” 

“...So small.” Dehya comments softly, her hand cupping your needy pussy and brushing over it. “Need to be patient.” 

You huffed and cupped her stiffie under her dress, causing her to gasp. If she wasn’t wearing that metal helmet you were one hundred percent confident that she was blushing like mad right now. “I have been patient…! I’ve waited three years to be with you again, Dehya. I need you inside me nowww…” 

Your whines struck a chord within her, Dehya grumbling to herself and shifting you on her lap. She was getting antsy, the feeling of your soft hand on her shaft making her lose control of her lust for you. She let out another grumble and complied with your demands, lifting up her dress and allowing you to see just how turned on she was for you. Wow, now that was a sight you’ve certainly missed. 

Though it had been a few years since you’ve last had sex with Dehya, you remembered her very vividly. She was quite large, mostly girthy but it was nothing that a bunch of lube and slick can’t fix. No wonder Dehya took so much time in prepping for you, though you knew she was always big, you always overestimated yourself and needed Dehya to wait like five minutes for you to adjust to her size. 

“...I’ve certainly missed this too.” You chuckled, gently running your hand up her shaft and feeling it twitch under your hold. Dehya groaned, getting needy as she wrapped a hand over your wrist and made a subtle nudge for you to hurry. You gave her a few steady pumps, a few beads of precum starting to form at her tip, before you guided her cock to your awaiting entrance. 

Dehya’s breath hitched under the heavy metal of her helmet, her head leaning backwards and letting you take over. You guided her tip to nestle sweetly against your folds, gently sliding it back and forth through your wetness before easing yourself downward. Though you were already quite wet, you definitely felt the tight stretch as Dehya’s girth split you open on her cock and made you stop halfway. 

You were already breathing quite heavily, sweat trickling down your brow as you struggled to accommodate her size. Dehya noticed you stopping, tilting her head when she realized that you were struggling quite a bit to go down the other half of her. “Sorry…” She whispered softly, holding onto your waist and gently massaging your skin. “I…I will try to be smaller.” 

“Sweetie, that’s kind of impossible right now.” You whimpered, but appreciated her attempts at comforting you. You placed a small kiss on the edge of her pyramid-shaped helmet, causing her to jolt in surprise before giving yourself a few bounces to continue easing down. With each small bounce, Dehya grunted and resisted the urge to slam your hips down to her lap, steadying you in her arms while you slowly took in more inches. 

Down…Down… Finally, you found yourself sitting right on her lap, your pussy feeling so full and hot from how deep Dehya was inside you. Now that she was buried to the hilt, Dehya grumbled and gently squeezed your hips as if silently asking for permission to move you. You had planned on just riding her and letting her sit back and watch, but it appeared that your wife wanted to be more active than you thought. 

“You can move me,” You responded, “Just…be gentle. You’re still quite big.” 

She nodded and slowly lifted you up in her lap, sliding out until only her tip was in you before softly pushing you back down. Her strength, plus the external force of gravity allowed for a very hard (and very pleasant) thrust, causing you to moan loudly and cling to her shoulders. 

Dehya growled and seemed to enjoy the feeling of your tight pussy around her, moving you up and down with ease as she wanted to feel more. She gripped your hips with a certain air of possessiveness, wanting to claim you and keep you all to herself, her blunt nails leaving small crescent moon shapes in the plushness of your thighs. “Mine…” She growled again, beginning to up the pace the more she grew addicted to your pussy. “My wife…”

She slammed you down on her hips a bit harder, her fat tip smashing against a rather sensitive spot inside you and making you arch your back. Dehya picked up on that easily, lifting you so that she could realign her cock to hit deeper. 

At this new angle, Dehya could move further, starting to thrust into you at a hotter rhythm than before. You had forgotten how rough Dehya could be when she wasn’t being your doting knight, grunting and panting while she pushed you down to the hilt. You didn’t even have to move or anything during your sessions with Dehya, as she would always serve you with the utmost devotion. 

“D-Dehya– Dehya…!” Your words came out all choppy and disorganized, her rough thrusts pushing each syllable out of you before you were ready. “B-Baby slow down…!”

She whimpered and hugged your waist tighter, resisting the urge to continue her brutal pace and obeying your command. She dragged her hips more languidly across your walls, making you feel every twitch and vein while your pussy grew more sensitive around her. “Dehya…I think I’m close…” 

She let out another pleased moan at your words and you felt her cock twitch more inside. It appeared you also weren’t the only one getting close, as Dehya was getting close to release herself. “Can I…nngh, come?” She whispered raspily, panting in desperation. “Inside? I want to come inside you.” 

Your cheeks grew hot at her ask, but you couldn’t deny her. Not after you’ve just found her again. “You…You wanna do it inside?” you whimpered, a small smile spreading across your face. “Alright then…Just try not to make too much of a mess.”

Dehya seemed quite happy at that, ramming herself faster until she felt her impending climax come. She thrusted once, twice, three times, until finally she felt herself tense up and release hot spurts of cum, triggering your own climax simultaneously while you were filled to the brim. 

Your womb felt so full. All hot and filled by Dehya while she continued thrusting to ride out both your orgasms. She definitely did not fulfill your request of not making too much of a mess, but that was okay. You were quite pleased with being filled with your wife’s seed, and being by her side again was all that mattered to you at this moment. 

Her thrusts soon slowed to a halt, but she didn’t pull out yet. Instead, she kept her cock still firmly deep within you, and simply readjusted your position so that you were lying more comfortably against her chest. “Did I do good?” she whispered, looking down at you through the small holes of her helmet. 

“Very good…” You whispered back sleepily, your body succumbing to exhaustion as you laid atop your wife’s body, her cock keeping you nice and warm inside. “I’m so glad I found you again.”

“Mmm.”

She gently caressed the back of your head with her hand, the other one resting lazily against your thigh, making you feel all safe and secluded. As you were slowly lulled to sleep in the comforting embrace of your lover, your thoughts began to reminisce in the journey that brought you here. The town of Silent Hill was one not known for its warmth and welcoming structure, but in this town of darkness and gray, you found the one thing that would make you stay forever. 

You had finally found your wife again, and you were never leaving her side.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Home to My Family

Amazing idea from @avada-kedavra-bitch-187!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader

Summary: After you give birth to twins, they're taken by a nurse for checkups. You soon realize that she's not a nurse, so Tim calls in reinforcements to save your children and catch their abductor.

Warnings: child abduction, r just gave birth but story begins post-labor, angst, happy ending with fluff

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

“Congratulations,” the doctor says as your second baby is placed in your arms. “Two healthy babies.”

“They’re perfect,” you murmur, your eyes on the baby boy in your arms.

“A nurse will be in shortly to take them for full checkups,” someone informs you.

“How do you feel?” Tim asks.

You look away from your son and smile at the sight of Tim holding his daughter. She beat her brother into the world by nearly three minutes, and Tim has been enraptured with her since then.

“I’m okay,” you assure him. “We did good.”

Tim scoffs and lays his hand on your son’s back as he corrects, “We did great.”

“Hello, Bradfords,” a nurse greets with a knock on the open door. “I’m here to borrow these babies.”

You watch as Tim hands your daughter to the nurse to be placed in a bassinet before he turns to you to take your son. It makes you uncomfortable to hand them over so soon after giving birth, but the first checkup is necessary. Tim takes your hand and sits on the edge of your hospital bed to wait together.

“Did you call Angela?” you ask.

“Where are those pretty Bradford babies?” another nurse singsongs as she enters. “Checkup time!”

You furrow your brows, but Tim is on his feet before you can ask any questions. Tim is heartbreakingly familiar with the reality of evil in the world, and he realizes before you that something terrible has happened. As he races into the hall, fear settles over you as tears build in your eyes. If the real nurse is here now, who has your children? And where are they?

The nurse leaves to double-check that your babies weren’t transported by another nurse, and you’re left alone. After several minutes alone, scared, Tim returns and shakes his head. His jaw is clenched tightly, but you can tell he’s only a moment from breaking.

“I reported it to the department,” Tim says, his voice tight. “Angela’s on the way and I let her know too.”

You nod before you sit up carefully, wincing in pain as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed.

“Hey, hey, no,” Tim murmurs, rounding the foot of the bed. He lowers before you and lays his hands over your thighs. “You just gave birth; you need to rest.”

“I need to find them, Tim. We have to find them!” you exclaim through your cries.

“I know. We will, I promise we will.”

“But you don’t need my help.”

Tim smiles at your attitude, understandable anger building beneath your pain, fear, and tiredness.

“Your help isn’t the issue, it’s your health.”

“Timothy,” Angela greets. She walks to your side and hugs you tightly. “Tell me everything.”

You lie back carefully as Tim recounts the events of the past few minutes. Angela nods along, then looks around your room.

“They’re still in the hospital, I’d bet,” Tim concludes.

“Grey stationed officers at every opening to keep it that way,” Angela responds. “There’s plenty of hiding places in a hospital. But Tim…”

“I don’t know,” he answers. “I have no idea who would do this. I’ve put plenty of people away, called CPS hundreds of times, any of those people could have decided to return the favor.”

Lucy and Nolan knock on the open door, and Tim waves them in as Angela draws a diagram of the hospital on the whiteboard opposite you. Lucy walks directly to your side while Nolan stands beside the door to watch the hallway.

“What do you need?” Lucy asks softly.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “Other than the obvious.”

“We’re going to find them. Half of the station is here for you.”

“There’s only one option that finishes this quickly,” Angela decides. “We split up and search every floor of this hospital.”

Tim looks to you rather than answering, and you promise, “I’m okay to be alone. I trust you, all of you, to find them and bring them back to me. Do whatever you have to do.”

“We will,” Tim promises. “Nolan, stay here, keep an eye on this hallway. Lucy, you’re with me.”

Lucy squeezes your hand kindly before she walks to Tim’s side. Nolan steps out of your room with them and closes the door. Completely alone, all you can do is wait.

“Hey,” Tim calls urgently. A male nurse spins and raises his hands in question. “Have you seen a nurse in pink scrubs with twins?”

“There’s lots of nurses, pink scrubs, and twins here, sir,” the man answers.

Tim takes a measured step toward him, and the man steps back urgently, bumping into the desk behind him.

“Do you want to be charged with aiding and abetting a kidnapping?”

“Sir, if you’ve seen a woman in pink scrubs with two bassinets, you need to tell us now,” Angela interjects.

“I haven’t,” he answers quickly. “I swear I haven’t.”

Tim steps away from the scared nurse and sighs.

“This floor is clear, no sign of them,” Angela reports.

Tim’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and he retrieves it without looking away from the empty hallway.

“I remember when I wasn’t allowed to look at my phone on duty,” Lucy muses.

“Your children hadn’t been abducted,” Tim snaps. He reads a message, furrows his brows, and then says, “Angela.”

Angela knows that Tim using her first name isn’t a good sign, and she's proven right when he passes his phone over. “Where is this?”

“I can’t tell. The message seems familiar,” Tim replies.

Angela zooms in on the picture while Tim repeats the message to himself. Lucy moves beside Angela and looks at the picture, pointing to any discernable items in the background. The image shows your son in the bassinet front and center, and while it’s clear that they’re still in the sterile, white hospital, it’s unclear where.

“Supply closet,” Angela realizes just as Tim says, “Keiran Tumble.”

“The counterfeiter?” Lucy asks. “What’s his problem with you?”

“I arrested him, but I’m also why he lost visitation rights for his kids. They were in the warehouse with the printing fumes. He hasn’t been out of prison long.”

“Prison for counterfeiting?”

“Federal prison. The Reserve pressed additional charges. When he got out, he got served with the papers about his kids.”

“Wait,” Angela interrupts. “You said it was a female nurse.”

“Keiran’s girlfriend,” Tim guesses. “I didn’t see her, she wasn’t there when we raided his operation, but I’ve heard plenty about her.”

“Me too. Tim, she’s suspected of at least three murders. This isn’t a manhunt; we have to find her without risking your kids.”

“ Supply closet?” Tim repeats. “Let’s find the right one, and then we move in. She makes one move toward them, and you drop her.”

“Tim, maybe you should sit this one out,” Lucy suggests.

“No,” Angela answers. “If this were Jack, I’d want to be right there when we found him. Look that monster in the face and remind her that at the end of every day, I go home to my family.”

“I’m more use here, Chen,” Tim assures. “How’s Nolan?”

“He said everything’s clear there. Only a few nurses through since we left.”

Tim nods, but Angela purses her lips in thought.

“What?” Tim inquires.

“Isn’t your room across from a supply area? Wouldn’t someone have needed something by now?” she asks.

“No one saw them because they didn’t go far,” Lucy realizes.

“Let’s go!” Angela exclaims.

Fiddling with the blanket over your legs, you think about what you will do when you get your babies back. Kiss them, apologize even though they won’t know what’s happening, and then beg Tim to take you home. You refuse to think about any alternative.

“Yep,” Nolan says on the other side of your door. “All clear here, too. Good luck.”

“C’mon, Tim,” you whisper.

You trust him more than anything, but right now, your fear threatens to override all of your rational thoughts.

Suddenly, a single gunshot sounds. Immediately after, you hear screams and loud promises that everything is alright and everyone is safe. You, however, refuse to believe it until you see your husband and children. Frozen in uncertainty and fear, you count your shallow breaths rather than running through possible scenarios.

Two firm knocks on your door are followed by Nolan smiling as he holds the door open. Tim steps in with both of your babies cradled in his arms and a relieved look. You release a shaky breath, then smile as tears roll over your cheeks.

“It’s over,” Angela promises as she hugs you. “We got her.”

Tim walks to the other side of your bed and carefully lowers the twins to your chest. They coo softly in their sleep, none the wiser about what they’ve been through. Holding them against you, you kiss their heads and whisper that you love them.

“Do you know what you need now?” Lucy asks.

“Get me out of here,” you beg, smiling.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she answers, leading Nolan out of the room.

“What happened?” you ask Tim.

“Do you remember Keiran Tumble?” You nod, and he places his arm around your shoulders as he continues, “He got out, mad about his arrest and losing his kids, and sent his girlfriend to make me feel some of the same pain. Or that’s the working theory.”

“It’s right,” Angela adds. “Only a criminal would be that stupid.”

"So, Nolan radioed an all-clear, got her guard down, and we went in. She shouldn't be out for a very long time."

You lay your head against Tim’s shoulder and say, “I love you.”

“Aw, I love you, too!” Angela jokes.

“If you weren’t our first choice for godmother, I’d kick you out,” Tim tells her.

“You love me.”

“Thank you,” you interject. “I’m glad you’re both here.”

“I’m going to go fill in Grey and then make sure your house is ready for an early return,” Angela says as she steps toward the door. “Need anything else?”

“You’ve done more than I can ever thank you for,” you answer. “I’ll call you later.”

“Like she won’t still be at the house when we get home,” Tim mumbles.

“Hey, I filled up your freezer with comfort food, be nice to me, Timothy.”

Alone with your babies, you smile as Tim extends his finger to your slowly waking son. You’ll never get tired of being with them, and there’s no one else you’d rather have by your side than Tim Bradford.

[bruciemilf]

DC can shoot blockbuster movies, but only WFA is genius enough to introduce PTA mom! Bruce who's extremely competitive.

I need Battinson, youngest parent there by far, to roll in, smudged make up, bruises, a busted red lip.

No one thinks to link those marks to Batman. They're OBVIOUSLY evidence of a long night of fooling around in the club instead of caring for his young ward

Margie thinks that's funny, seeing as this guy obviously doesn't get out much. She tried putting him through the trial of Intimidating Mom Show Off and he just said, " I'm going to cry in the bathroom. Excuse me."

I'm sorry, but Bruce being openly affectionate with Dick, Jason, Damian, Cass, and Tim, -- kisses on the cheek, hugs that last until the teacher breaks them off, - would have the fathers cringing.

" Haha, I don't do that with my kids. I'm actually here because my wife bitched at me."

Bruce, straight up, " Don't you like your children?"

" Excuse me?!"

" Not yet. Why do you hate your kids?"

" I love my kids, I just can't wait to get away from them. Come on, you know how it's like."

" No. I love my babies. Why do you hate your babies? Why do you hate your wife. I'll pay for your divorce if you want."

Bruce gets reported VERY often to the principal and board for being inappropriate, and you know what? They refuse to do anything. It was about time someone raised hell around here.

Duke, age 8, watching a grown man throw a tantrum because Bruce called Dick 'baby' : Bruce. I can poke him with my sword

Bruce: Not yet, Duke

Jason tries exploding every kid he doesn't like with his mind. "Trust me, you won't like the alternative. Now be gone! My papi brought me lunch." It's a lunchbox full of books.

Bruce gets along the best with the mothers. They treat him like the class hamster

[silverwarewolf]

DUNGEON MESHI EPISODE 24 THOUGHTS

Oh, I had asked to see what the party's thoughts regarding the changeling situation were, especially when it came to their lifespans, but I didn't think it would turn out like this!

GOOD FUCKING JOB, CHILCHUCK. YOU'VE TRAUMATIZED MARCILLE EVEN FURTHER. Oh but I do so love the horrors of this situation of theirs. Marcille babygirl I would like to hug you and have a nice chat.

Anywya, on we go to think about Falin and any solutions that might help us here. Which is great! I love how much foreshadowing there is (in terms of what I've been vaguely told about the manga).

Laios Touden's problem solving skills, everyone.

That's honestly the SICKEST weapon design, I'm so on board with you Laios. This could be Kensuke's Halloween makeover. BUT DONT JUST TAKE THOSE MUSHROOMS WITH YOU OH MY GOD

... was this the opening sequence foreshadowing everyone was freaking out about? was that it? (don't actually tell me, though. if it was it, say yes. if it wasn't, don't say anything)

no comment here I just love them.

I just will never get used to elfshi's hands being Like That. But it's also kinda nice to see him and Izutsumi working along so nicely! Like, don't even get me started on how Izu is presented as the pickiest eater of the party (Marcille has been dethroned severely) and usually you'd see that presented as a Hassle, but here in DM, Senshi doesn't even bat an eye. He knows and respects Izutsumi's tastes and preferences and works his meals out around it! That's such a based thing for him to do. <3

This is a renaissance painting. (I love it when they adapt Ryoko Kui's visual gags and I LOVE when she does zoomed in faces like this. Truly one of the artists ever)

I did not have "Laios gets Pissed On" on my bingo card but every day I grow more and more convinced that the animators KNOW what they're doing and - OH MY GOD IS THAT SENSHI'S DWUSSY. ELFSHI ALTERNATIVE TO PANTY SHOT.

Ah, yes, Izutsumi sprawls all over them when sleeping, we been knew, again it's a little unexpected to see it front and center but I guess it works to demonstrate them returning to - THAT WAS LAIOS??? AND CHILCHUCK IS JUST LIFTING HIS LEG LIKE THAT?? OKAY THEN. SURE.

(and then there's a few more seconds of laiosfoot and laios bedhead)

BUT HEY THEY'RE BACK TO NORMAL

1) Yep, they're back to normal.

2) Laios I love you and I love Gothsuke but someone needs to be careful about biohazards and it's not going to be you.

3) Add this to the "Marcille Donato gets threateningly close to you in three steps" folder.

4) Truly only they can match each other's freak. When the NECROMANCER is telling you not to do something, don't do it! I know last time you smuggled a "normal" sword, it turned out to be useful, but I'm sure that's not the case here!

5) Poor Laios tho. I'll learn to blacksmith just to give you a cool sword. <3

I'm so glad they kept this. One of the silliest touden siblings moments. 10/10 no notes. Also, Falin is never beating the blunt force trauma allegations.

IS THAT CHILCHUCK'S WIFE. ARE YOU - MA'AM. HELLO?

"Why aren't you a twink like I thought you'd be?!" gets adapted! (I'm pretty sure that's the scene meant to be here, anyways)

I get it, girl.

Oh dear, they're going to eat Falin. And SENSHI was the one to suggest it! For a guy who was just fighting the doubts of accidental cannibalism a week ago, you're taking bold steps forward.

(I do love how it mirrors Laios' kindness back then, in truth. Even if it's an idea so shocking and dire at first, it comes from a place of reason and logic and love)

Marcille "I said I wanted to eat her OUT, not eat HER" Donato Izutsumi "That's going to taste gross as fuck" Izutsumi Chilchuck "If it brings her back..." Tims Laios Touden, the man with a thousand things on his head right now, two of which I reckon are "I don't want to eat my sister" and "Dragon-Chicken... what might it taste like?"

Yes, well. Valid as your concerns are, Laios, because how the fuck would five people eat THAT much meat, you can't just ramble on about what dishes you're going to make out of your sister.

(...I get it, though. I mean if you're going to eat, might as well make it good, right? I know no one wants to grill one of Faligon's ribs but I'll go ahead and say it would be worse to tell them to eat her raw)

FUCK! we DID lose those scenes about the twin bell that toshiro kept!! forever sad about that.

oh my godddd they're going back into the dungeonnn we're going to reunite with themmm

I know they're really fucking competent, I mean, Namari and Toshiro are already described as pretty formidable warriors (and we've seen it), and Kabru is... admittedly much more geared to fight humans but he's a decent fighter either way. And a good leader!

Speaking of, where the fuck is everyone else.

I know they're meant to be scary (and I suppose they are! If we have the reference that, firstly, marcille is an excellent spellcaster so these elves could be just as good in their own areas of expertise, yes?, and secondly, the canaries are Well Known)

... plus, Namari, Toshiro and Kabru are wary of them. Namari, Toshiro and Kabru are wary of them.

BUT damn it Lycion, I need to- (gets dragged off stage)

Anyway, while we wait for the next season (WHICH HAS BEEN GREENLIT! WOHOO!), have these wonderful images of chicken falin being a cathedral painting (...if cathedrals ever added dragons, i guess) and my beloveds, who have finally returned!

[garbinge]

Shot To The Heart

Tim Bradford x F!Nurse!Reader (turned SWAT/TEMS) 30 Day Fic Challenge (13/30)

Word Count: 1.3k A/N: Just something small for this wife reader/Tim universe I occasionally write for. Looking forward to season 7, and hopefully a Chenford reunion lol.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Mentions of violence, gunshot wounds, ptsd, wat flashbacks, hospitalization, light angst. The Rookie Taglist: @simrah1012 @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @afuckingshituniverse Other fics with this reader: Clean Cut - Tim Bradford x F!Nurse!Reader Earthquakes and Promotions - Tim Bradford x F!Nurse!Reader

“Hey I was just about to call you, I’m wrapping up my shift but the team is heading to get drinks, figured you could meet us there? We’re going to that spot that has those mojitos you like.” Tim had a smile on his face as he answered your phone call. He was walking through the station towards the men’s locker room, ready to change out of the stench of a long patrol day.

“Before you freak out, I want you to know I’m okay.” Your voice was completely opposite of his. It wasn’t shaky for what happened, but you were solemn and still in your delivery. It was honestly silly to start your conversation this way, Tim wasn’t one to freak out, but he was one to think the worst first. 

“What happened?” His voice immediately matched yours. Very typical for people that held the positions you did, to be calm under crisis. 

“I got shot on shift today. I’m at the hospital.” 

“You what?” Tim had stopped in his tracks immediately waiting for more information. 

“My thigh, it’s not a big deal. It missed my artery but protocol is for me to be here for the next couple days.” You didn’t exactly want to get into details but you knew you had to give him some information. 

“Why am I just finding this out?” Tim was now rushing to the exit doors. 

“I told them not to call you, I wanted you to hear it from me, not some random SWAT member.” 

“You do realize they’re not random, they come to all our barbecues, we’ve been to their weddings…” Tim was starting to argue with you. “Not to mention, I should’ve heard it on the radio.” 

“Really wanna argue with me right now, Bradford?” You sighed despite the smile on your face. 

“I really wanna know what happened.” 

You could hear his truck engine start in the background and from that you knew he was going to be at the hospital in minutes. 

“We got called in on some cartel tip, it was off-channel, stealth.” You explained knowing he wasn’t going to let it go. “I was applying aid to a hostage and it just happened.” 

“I really hope you didn’t write your report that way.” Annoyance was dripping off his tone. 

“Tim.” You said with the same amount of annoyance. 

“No, you don’t get to be mad at me for being mad.” He was on the highway now, you could hear the change in background noise. “I’ll be there in 5 minutes.” 

With that he hung up, and was in front of you within minutes. It made you wonder where he left his truck and who he talked to before getting to your room. 

“Jesus.” He was at the edge of the bed looking down at you. “How you holdin’ up?” 

“I’m fine, I just wanna go home.” You brushed him off. 

“What the hell happened out there?” His voice didn’t sound angry like it did on the phone, he was genuinely upset. 

“I told you, it happened fast, I was applying aid and then the next we were under fire.” You shook your head, not able to look him in the eye. 

At that motion he walked over to the side of the bed, quickly engulfing you in a hug. “I know when you’re lying to me.” He mumbled into the top of your head before placing a kiss there. 

You leaned into him, despite all his gear from his belt making it rather unpleasant to be in his embrace, it was the most comfortable you’ve felt since everything happened. You leaned into him more, gripping him closer to you when you let out a little sob. 

He gently scooted you over, making sure he didn’t aggravate or even touch the leg with the bullet wound. It was just enough so that he could sit next to you in the bed and shield you from prying eyes outside. 

“It’s alright.” He hummed as he rubbed your back up and down. A nurse had entered at one point and Tim just politely smiled and asked if the two of you could have a couple minutes. 

The tears you let escape you were some that you hadn’t shed in years. It was buried down deep, being in your field, being at war, it did that to you, it bottled everything up and left you to deal with it at another time, and each time being more inconvenient than the last left for it to overflow now. 

As you calmed down, you took a deep breath and wiped your face before looking at Tim. 

“You went back.” Tim said not needing you to say anything in explanation about what happened. 

“It was like I was right back in Afghanistan.” You nodded. 

“Protocols are different here.” Tim tilted his head to look at you, wondering if he pushed you into this too soon. 

“Yea, they got me on probation. Seeing the shrink tomorrow where they’ll figure out when I’m cleared for active duty.” 

“You know, if you wanted to go back to work at the hospital, no one would hold it against you.” Tim offered up a solution that was more for him than it was for you. 

“I was doing fine up until now, I think all the dust from the desert we were in, my hands wrist deep into this guys abdomen, brought me back to when you were bleeding out in front of me. Getting shot brought me back to the moment, it was like the shake back to reality I needed.” You shook your head as you thought through it all. 

“Yea the shrinks gonna have a ball with you.” Tim teased you before getting serious. “You’ve always been self-aware. On top of your shit, you’ll be back on active duty in no time.” 

“You sound worried.” It was obvious to notice the hesitancy in his voice. 

“Just can’t help but feel like I pushed you to this.” Tim sighed deeply. 

“I chose this.” You began to argue with him. 

“But I planted the seed.” He argued back. 

“You give yourself too much credit.” You laughed and squeezed his hand. “Remember when the Chief’s daughter came in, and I took her on as my patient, he saw how I handled everything, when they checked out, he mentioned how I might be good in TEMS. I brushed it off, but when you brought it up again, it just was harder and harder to brush it off. It just made sense.” 

Tim looked down at you shocked that you never mentioned what his boss said to you. 

“I’m just saying, don’t give yourself the credit for this.” You shrugged and teased him. 

“I just want to make sure you’re good.” Tim got serious again after letting out a laugh from your tease. 

“I’m fine, and after I see Dr. Shrink tomorrow I’ll be even better.” 

“You’re not opposed to it, which is already how I know you’re fine.” Tim joked as he brought you closer to him as both of you relaxed in the bed. 

“That’s that machismo stigma, I love talking to people about my problems. Which, speaking of, you didn’t take the trash out this morning.” 

Tim let out a belly laugh, “I’ll be sure to take it out tonight.” 

“No you won’t. You’re staying with me, Sarge.” And with that you cuddled into him as best as you could and closed your eyes so you could get as many minutes in the the most comfortable sleep you’d get while being in the hospital. 

[paperultra]

HOME (TO THE OL’ BALL AND CHAIN)

(OR, THE PIÑA COLADA SONG)

Pairing: Chilchuck Tims x Fem!Chilchuck's Wife!Reader Word Count: 2,499 words Warnings: None Summary: Five years after leaving your first and only love, you take the plunge into the dating scene – and immediately regret it. Maybe you're too picky, but none of the men you go out with seem to fit the bill; they're too non-committal, or too eager, or too happy, or too sad, or simply just too much ... so after a particularly bad experience, your youngest makes a last-ditch effort to set you up on a blind date with someone who she insists deserves a chance. You reluctantly agree. read on ao3 | read on quotev

DATE #1: CASUAL LUNCH Estranged husband — 1 Estranged wife — 1 Everything left unsaid — as desired

There’s bacon grease on his shirt.

You can see it underneath his collar, round fingerprints staining the pale linen grey, and when he leans across the threshold into Fler’s home all you can think about is laundry day at the end of the week.

It would be rude to admit that out loud, though.

“Thank you for walking me home,” you say.

“When can I see you again?”

“I don’t know.”

Abelwood teeters forward still. “Well, don’t take too long, hear? You ain’t gettin’ any younger.”

Laughter erupts from the beer in his gut, and you laugh along with him. Abelwood is a rowdy drunk, you’ve learned, which is better than a cruel drunk or a lecherous drunk. It is not the kind of drunk that you are used to bringing home, even if he is only brought to the front door, but –

You smile, regardless.

“Goodnight,” you bid, closing the door inch by inch, your last bit of energy disappearing with the click of the lock.

You hold your breath. It takes three minutes and thirty-seven seconds for the man to leave your front doorstep, and you wait thirty more seconds after that to peek through the window, verifying that he is far enough away before resting your forehead against the door with a groan.

“Oh, boy.”

“I’m too old for this, Fler,” you mutter into the wood. “He was awful.”

Flertom lets out a sigh and closes the distance to squeeze you in a hug, pressing her cheek against your back like she’s done ever since she grew tall enough to do so. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she says.

“I’m sorry too.”

As you pat her hands and turn around to smile wryly at her, Puckpatti pipes up from the middle of the living room.

“He was a pig,” she exclaims. “Calling you by your first name! And he wasn’t even that handsome!”

“Looks aren’t everything, Puck,” you reply sharply, and she pouts, squeezing the lump of clay in her hands until it squishes out between her fingers. “He was a pig for the way he acted.”

“Well … that too.”

“He also smelled like one,” Fler says.

You detach yourself from your daughter to loosen the belt at your waist, frowning down at your dress and nice leather shoes. The dress feels just about as worn out as you do, the fabric soft and droopy from the humidity, the sunshine-yellow color less vibrant than it had been earlier this evening. The man had spilled beer on the floor of the bar and your shoes still look slightly sticky. Peeling them off just reminds you of the way he had laughed.

“Fler,” you say, “get me a wet rag, would you?”

“Sure, Mama.” Flertom turns to Puckpatti. “Puck, get a wet rag.”

“My hands are all dirty!” your youngest protests, showing her grey palms. “Mei’s closer to the water bucket.” She points to Meijack, who you now notice lingering by the kitchen.

Meijack blinks slowly, then silently fetches a rag, wets it, and brings it to you.

“Are you gonna keep trying, Ma?” she asks while you scrub the heel of your left shoe. “All these guys seem to be wasting your time.”

The chuckle that leaves your mouth is short and dry. “After this one, I don’t think so.” You glance up at your daughters and smile, straightening. “Maybe I should just take you all out on a girls’ date next time, huh? Forget about men for a little while.”

Meijack shrugs. Puckpatti nods eagerly.

“I just don’t know what’s wrong,” Flertom frets. “I’ve seen most of them at work before, and they seemed nice enough even when they were drunk …”

You shrug hopelessly and cross into the living room to sit on the couch. “Maybe it’s me.” As you lean back into the cushions, Meijack and Flertom join you on either side. “I’ve only ever been with one man my whole life. Maybe I don’t even know what I want …”

There’s a moment of silence. You look up at the ceiling of Flertom’s home, rubbing your temples and willing your frustration with yourself to not spill over while your daughters are watching. How embarrassing. Here you are, their mother, who is supposed to show them an example of a happy relationship, only for them to comfort you after another failed date. It should be the other way around. Half-foots don’t live long enough for things like this; your own mother had told you when you first left him that you should’ve just sucked it up.

Finally, Flertom speaks up. “Mama,” she starts, hesitant, and you look over to see her playing with her fingers, “Do you really want to date someone?”

“It’s been long enough, don’t you think?” you answer.

As you say so, a name resurfaces in your mind, unbidden, and the face that belongs to it. Your jaw tightens and you look down at your hands.

“Well … um … Papa wrote last week, and he said that he wanted to talk to you sometime. Just a little bit.”

Your tone hardens. “And what does that have to do with me dating, Fler?”

She flinches and her lips push out. “Come on, Mama! It’s been years, and after everything he went through, I really think he’s better now! Don’t you at least want to talk to him? You were so in love with each other before he started adventuring, and now that he’s retired from it …”

You hold your hand up, and her jaw clicks shut.

“I know what you’re getting at, Flertom,” you say quietly. “And right now is not the best time to bring up your father.”

Your daughter deflates, her cheeks rosy. “But –”

“I mean it.” Standing, you heave a deep breath and examine the cluttered workstation that Puckpatti had set up on the living room table. “Puckpatti, make sure to clean up after you’re done. I’m going to bed.”

While the girls mope, you head to your bedroom, doing your best to occupy your thoughts with work at the blacksmith’s tomorrow. You think about the chain mail you’re supposed to be making, the little metal rings to form and weave together, and hope they’re what you dream of, not self-absorbed dates or unwanted kisses.

You blame Flertom for the auburn hair and hearty laughs that plague your night instead.

—

A week later, Puckpatti accosts you as soon as you walk through the door.

“Mama, I found a man for you!”

“Oh?” you reply blandly, hand still clutching at your chest from having the living daylights scared out of it. “Who is it?”

“That’s a secret! But he’s really nice, I promise.”

Sighing, you remove your vest. “I don’t know, Puck. How did you meet him?”

“He bought one of my clay sticks.” You can’t stop yourself from frowning, despite your desire to support your daughter’s entrepreneurial spirit, and she giggles. “Oh, please, Mama, he didn’t believe my pitch. I think I just charmed him into buying it. He seems really clever!”

“Are you sure he wasn’t interested in you?”

She makes a disgusted face. “Eww! No, I told him about you and he seemed interested.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mama, you’re a catch. Of course he’d want to go on a date with you.”

“That’s sweet of you to say, honey.” You glance at her before heading to the kitchen to put away the bread and cheese you’d bought. “Is he a half-foot?”

“Maybe.”

“I thought I’d met all the half-foots in Kahka Brud.”

“Maybe he just moved here.”

She looks up innocently when you raise an eyebrow at her. “And you’re sure I’ll like him,” you drawl, more suspicious by the minute. (Of what, you’re not quite sure.)

“Positive.”

It is incredibly difficult, you think with equal parts pride and concern, to say no to your youngest daughter. It’s probably why you worry about her the most. “This is the last date I’ll go on, Puckpatti. It will be on you.”

Puckpatti cheers. She hugs you as you chuckle at her enthusiasm, jumping up and down. “Yay! I’ll get a time and day that’ll work best. It’ll be great! You’ll love him!”

“For your sake, I hope so.”

—

The day arrives with a mellow sun and clear sky.

You wear your green dress with the floral details, and Puckpatti picks a necklace to go along with it, a thin, simple one that you haven’t worn in years. Flertom does your makeup and Meijack does your hair.

And as you sit in a corner of the tavern fifteen minutes early, hands nervously clasped in your lap, you wonder, just as you have with every date prior, what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Maybe he won’t show up. It would be improper, and juvenile, but then you could go home and say that you did try. Your desire for a new romance has all but dwindled completely, and as you trace the scratches on the wooden table, you wonder if it was even a desire at all.

Footsteps approach from behind. You can tell they belong to a half-foot by the weight and sound – light and small – as they come around to the other side of the table. Your shoulders tighten. Forcing a smile, you look up.

Your heart promptly surges upward into your throat before plummeting to your toes.

Chilchuck gawks down at you, eyes wide. His mouth parts to utter your full name, and you feel your lungs squeeze at how it sounds coming from him, soft from years of disuse.

“You came,” he says.

“Chil – Chilchuck.” His name is ashy and sweet behind your teeth. “What are you doing here?”

He furrows his brow. “What do you mean? The girls said that you were willing to meet up.”

“No, I’m meeting with one of Puck’s customers.”

“What? That doesn’t …” he trails off, and the two of you seem to realize the same thing at the same time.

You bury your head in your hand as Chilchuck grits his teeth.

Those scheming …

“I’m sorry they dragged you into this,” you mutter as you get up from your seat, your voice cold and flat. “I’ll be going now.”

His head snaps up. “Going? But –”

You hurry past him, dodging the hand that you know has reached out for your own.

Home is a ten-minute walk away. You can clear your head in that time, then scold your daughters for meddling, though it’s partially your fault for not questioning Puckpatti about your supposed date more thoroughly. You just didn’t think that they would try something like this.

(Or that Chilchuck would bother to go along with it.)

You pull the door open with some effort and rush out into a downpour of rain.

Your hair gets drenched before you backpedal with a yelp. Pressing against the wall underneath the awning, you look out helplessly at the soaked streets, their gutters already filling with water and debris flowing down the incline. Is … is that a drowning rat?

The storm’s earthiness floods your nose, late in its prediction by half an hour. Just your luck.

You fumble with the clasp of your necklace to remove it, not wanting to get it wet. While you struggle, the tavern door creaks open behind you.

“So you don’t even want to talk. Even after all these years, you’re going to walk away again.”

“Do you know why I walked away the first time?” The damn thing won’t unhook. You scowl, the presence at your back making your usually nimble fingers clumsy.

“No,” Chilchuck says. “I don’t. Not for certain.”

“That’s why.” With each failed attempt to separate the rings, your fingertips grow sorer, your throat thickening. He’s too close. You hate how he’s watching you fail such a simple task. “You stopped knowing, Chilchuck. That’s why.”

Underneath the sharp sound of rain, you can hear his breath hitch, then quiet.

You bite your lip and let your arms fall to your sides, giving up on trying to take your necklace off. Your chest aches. You don’t want to cry in front of him.

“So, there, we talked like you wanted.”

He stops you before you can step out into the rain.

“Wait. What … what about your necklace?” he asks hesitantly, like it’s not what he really wants to say, but merely a way to stall for time.

This time, you look over your shoulder at him. “I’ll dry it real well once I get home,” you reply.

Chilchuck’s mouth presses into a fine line. He grabs the cloak folded over the crook of his elbow, and it is then that you notice the bouquet of blue and pink flowers in his other hand. The ache in your chest flares into a raw, pulsing hurt.

“I’m guessing you’d rather not have me walk you.” He speaks evenly, holding his cloak out towards you. “It’s not completely waterproof, but keep this over your head, at least …” his voice quiets, “please.”

Wordlessly, you take the garment from him. The inner lining is warm against your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you. “For not knowing.” His fist tightens around the flowers, and he stares at you resolutely. “I want to again, if you’ll let me.”

Ah.

You swallow. “I … I don’t know.”

“It doesn’t have to be today. I can wait.”

Breaking eye contact and looking down, Chilchuck roughs his fingers through his hair, mussing it up. The cut is the same as it’s always been, auburn bangs thick and soft over his brow. And you recognize the shirt he’s wearing, a practical, clean wool shirt that you made some years ago. He’s taken good care of it.

It’s all the same. All the same, and yet, something that you can’t quite identify has changed.

You bring his cloak closer to your chest and bite your bottom lip.

“… Give me a week.”

His entire body loses its tension.

“Really?” He looks at you like he can’t believe it, and you avert your gaze, ears warming and moving back the slightest bit.

“Give me a week to decide,” you clarify. “Fler or Mei will let you know … this is really abrupt, after all …”

Chilchuck nods. “That’s fine!” he exclaims. “You didn’t know, so I understand. A week is – a week’s good.”

You nod back, hesitant.

The rain continues its heavy downpour.

“Right … well …” you turn slightly, casting him one last glance, “I’ll give your cloak back, regardless. Don’t get sick.”

“Okay. Stay … stay safe.”

With that, you wrap yourself in the thick fabric, rushing out of the safety of the awning. The run back home smells of woodsmoke and thyme, and when you open the door to three guilty daughters and three apologies, it lingers.

You hang his cloak near the fireplace. It’s evidence of a weak resolve that you stay until it’s dry, and even more damning that you know your answer long before it is.

[upmost-rylan]

S/O DATING THE CREEPYPASTAS *✧⁺˚⁺ପ(๑・ω・)੭ु⁾⁾

Author's note:

This was just supposed to be a #Rylan Rambles but u h I may have gone too far. So THIS IS MESSY SINCE I'VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE. so please don't expect anything good, I am good at art not story things.

T.w.:

for Eyeless Jack's part is cannibalism ofc

Jeff the killer

Jeff's type is very motherly like he loves a partner who's sweet but will basically drag him by the ear and lecture him for being a bitch. he is loving and sweet in his own way BUT you do have to have thick skin. at least for a while. he'll be throwing every insult in the book at you trying to get you away from him. he is scared of being vulnerable. So as he figures out his emotions it'll definitely be rough for a while and if you play into the "bit" and insulting him back, HE'D BE BLUSHING thinking you know how he feels. Be prepared since that'll be you two's love language! But for anyone who wants a relationship with this man there will definitely be some obstacles with him not being able to properly communicate his emotions in a healthy manner, his anger issues, the fact that this is probably his first ever relationship so it'll be rocky no matter what you do. But when you get over those obstacles and you are still there holding his hand with a smile you'll have a boyfriend FOR LIFE. Also become a sweetheart for those who love the idea of Jeff being soft to his partner.

Eyeless jack

His type to me personally is someone who treats him like he is a normal human being. That's it that's the one thing that'll make him fall head over heels in LOVE with you. But bonus points if you like to crack jokes and puns those ALWAYS make him laugh! He is a simple demon. However, THIS relationship is very much a MESS for at least the first half of it, you're in a relationship with a giant fluffy demon who eats human flesh did you expect it to be normal? This relationship is definitely a game of tug of war of him wanting to basically make you his dinner and wanting to keep you around because he loves you. You'd have to walk a really thin line to make sure this demon doesn't take one of your kidneys. But after a LONG while he'd start to actually act normal for the MOST part. Listen, I love to imagine this guy to be VERY creaturely. you know this if you have seen my design of him after a one or two years of being around you and not eating you; he leave a corpse (whether it's human or animal up to you) at your door like it's some gift from one giant cat.

Tim Wright/Masky

Tim/Masky's type is very "wife"-like if that makes sense (I headcanon him to be Bi-romantic Ace-spec so gender doesn't matter) like Tim to me loves the idea of having the white picit fence dream! it lets him feel like he's normal even for abit. Loves the idea of coming home from work to hug his partner from behind as he watches them cook dinner. Very domestic very demure. To most he's a pretty rough guy considering Masky but to me he's definitely a softy. compliment him and he'll be putty in your hands. 10/10 would 10000% smooch. But you two definitely sometimes have some trouble especially when Masky takes over. With that one YOU WILL N O T be able to sleep. every time you try to sleep be prepared to be shaken awake because masky finds it funny to startle you awake.

Brian Thomas/Hoodie

Listen we had Tim now we gotta do Brian, THEY ARE TWO PEAS IN A BOD YALL👏. His type to me personally is just a funny good vibes person, who loves being on the go and not in one place for too long. Now, this relationship is basically MADE OUT OF POSITIVE VIBES. Brian to me is definitely the type to praise his partner AT ALL HOURS OF THE DAY he is a absolute sweetheart. You'd also definitely love him if you like nature walks and hikes. You definitely had to be the first to confess though because if you didn't this situation would definitely be just mutual pining. Also definitely the type to always be following behind his partner since I like to think bro is a TALL man, he wants you to see whats Infront of you and not block the way. His nickname for his partner something nature relationship "duckling" "lil mushroom" "sunshine" or something similar!

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

Mr. Walz

Featuring Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz

Back in the late ‘90s, Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz, and now Vice President Kamala Harris’ running mate, was a high school teacher and football coach in rural Minnesota. I attended Mankato West from 2000-2004, having Walz for 11th grade history. Being gay at the time, I initially expected to hate Walz, because he was a football coach and a hunter. But he was accepting and really friendly with me; with everyone really. He’s genuinely the goofy teacher that was in the hallway greeting every kid every morning, giving high fives and fist bumps. He and his wife, also a teacher at the school, provided vital support during my formative years. And to be honest, I thought he was cute.

He was in his late 30s and about 21 years my senior at that time, about my height, which is just shy of five foot-nine. He was chiselled like most middle-aged men with a gut. He dressed conservatively, usually a short sleeve solid colored shirt with a tee shirt under it and trousers which seemed to be a few sizes too small. I couldn’t help but find myself staring at his tightly held manhood, which showed a clear outline of his thick cock. That bulge had me daydreaming during our meets and school outings. I would jerk-off with this image in my mind every night.

After graduation, I didn’t see my ex-teacher again until I attended a campaign dinner in Falcon Heights, Minnesota. He instantly recognized me, smiling broadly and gave me a big hug. We’re talking 20-something years ago, and to have your 10th-grade geography teacher remember you after all of that time, it means something. I couldn’t call him Gov. Walz, because he will forever be Mr. Walz.

We talked a bit then, and a couple times throughout the evening. He asked me about what I was up to, if I was dating, the usual chit chat. I was so giddy to see Mr. Walz that I confessed that I had a crush on him in high school. I told him I thought about him every night when I jack off. How I use a big carrot up my ass, and pretend it was his dick. And I told him I knew he would never like me, that way, but I had to tell him.

Surprisingly, he suggested I should come over to his hotel, later, placing his hotel room card on the edge of the sink right next to me.

"Wait here, I'll have an agent escort you to my room in an hour." He said before leaving. I looked around to see if anyone had noticed, but no one had, so I quickly grabbed the key.

Sure enough, an hour later, a secret service agent escorted me to his hotel. The journey upstairs was unbearable. Reporters to dodge, people for the agent to nod away. By the time I got to Mr. Walz’s room, I was afraid he’d think I wasn’t’ interested, but when I entered the room, he was ready and waiting. The lights were dim, Mr. Walz was in a hotel bathrobe, and he’d ordered porn on the television.

"Is this what you really want?" I asked.

"More then anything." He replied.

I made the first move, leaning in to kiss him and as soon as our lips met, his arms went around me. Quickly, he started unbuttoning my shirt, unzipping my pants, and basically tearing my clothes off as he moved his tongue around inside my mouth. His hand was on my hard dick, feeling and testing the size.

"Oh, yeah." He moaned, as he ran his hand down my tender, sensitive cock before squatting.

With his mouth at my crotch, he ran his tongue up all seven inches, before gently pushing me towards the bed. On the bed, our bodies melded into one. His hard dick was teasing mine, as once again, our tongues found the other's mouth. Hands everywhere, as we hugged and rocked each other. Kissing my way down his chest, I left a trail of saliva all the way to his cock. Taking him in my mouth, I began to suck while I swirled my tongue around his boner before he started thrusting into my throat, making me gag. I guess he got pretty turned on by what I was doing to him as he turned me around and put us into 69 position.

As Mr. Walz took my dick in his mouth, I took his dick in mine. I worked on it with such skill that he began moaning deep inside his throat as he sucked my dick. And he could really suck; he knew how to please a man. I began to feel him starting to breathe rapidly and shake. I knew he was going to explode soon. I was getting close as well.

Wanting Mr. Walz to fuck me, I quickly seperated, and rolled off the bed leaving him laying there completely naked with a huge hard-on. Hurrying to my pants, I pulled a tube of lubrication out of his pocket before I bounded back to the bed. After telling him I wanted him to fuck me, I tensely watched as Mr. Walz applied the lubricate to his cock, knowing the pain I was about to feel. I couldn’t help but thinking back to my high school years when I first saw him. I had always wanted Mr. Walz to fuck me since then. Now was the time.

“You got a nice tight asshole.” Mr. Walz told me as he rubbed some of the KY onto my asshole.

He lifted my legs and stared me straight in the eyes as he guided the head of his cock to my ass. As soon as his dick made contact, he immediately thrust all 8 inches into me. I gasped loudly, so loudly in fact that I’m sure the people in the next room heard.

“I’m going to really open up your asshole.” Mr. Walz called out with a wicked smile on his face as he slowly started fucking me.

Noticing each time the fat head of his cock passed my hard prostate, pre-cum would squirt from the tip of my dick. He reached down and scooped it up with his finger, brought it to his mouth and licked it clean.

"Oh, man, that's good." He said, as he scooped up more, but I pulled his finger to his mouth, and sucked it in.

We smiled at each other before he leaned forward and kissed me deep, our tongues caressed each other, sharing my pre-cum. Then as we kissed he sent his cock plunging deeper into me. I arched my back as I was forced to take more cock deeper into my ass than ever before.

“Yes, fuck me, Mr. Walz.” I found myself saying when he broke our embrace, “Give it to me, Mr. Walz. Make me yours!”

And he did just that. Mr. Walz started fucking me hard and fast. I took each of the strokes of his his old manhood willingly. I wanted to give him total pleasure and I could tell from the far away look in his eye that the old man was as lost in me as I was in him. I knew he was getting close, and I didn’t want to stop him, so I didn’t say a word about pulling out. Having only had sex with his wife for all those years, he didn’t think of it either. Soon he was filling my ass with ropes of cum, and I felt it filling me up.

After we got off and caught our breath, he looked at me and we both started laughing and telling each other how glad we were that we'd just met up today.

[charliedawn]

slashers(Jason,Michael and Brahms only) with beautiful undead yet friendly bride Reader who is like Emily(from Corpse Bride) and She refers them as Her "Victor" (btw,are you fan of Tim Burton? if not then that's okay)

(Here you go ! Thank you for the request and indeed, I am a big fan of Tim Burton. Hope you’ll like it 👍)

Jason Voorhees:

Jason was scared half-to-death (see what I did there ? 😂) when he saw that rotten bride just sprang out from the very earth he usually buries the bodies of his victims in. Not gonna lie, he kinda ran back to his cabin when he saw you—‘cause if his mama taught him anything ? It was that dead people don’t come back to life for no good reason. The poor boy locked himself up twice. But, it wasn’t enough to stop you. You eventually came in and started haunting him. He tried to shoo you away at first because Jason likes his loneliness, his space. Actually, he doesn’t like people in general—dead or alive. So, Jason tried everything to get rid of you. He swung his axe at you and tried to catch you or trap you, but all his efforts were fruitless. He finally gave up and let you haunt him. But, he didn’t regret it. As you are a ghost, you could guard his home and warn him of any danger nearby. It was nice having someone watching over his back for once.

…But then, you saw it.

The machete that killed you.

On his wall.

You looked back at Jason and your undead heart squeezed in your chest. Had he…? Was he the one who had killed you ? On your wedding day nonetheless ? Wasn’t he your Victor ? And if not. Who was he ?

Brahms Heelshire:

Brahms likes to play pretend. He dreamt of having that special someone he could one day propose to and have his happy ever after moment. He was thinking about it and had one of those gummy rings he had saved from his snack time. He was in the forest and had decided to have himself a little repetition for the unforeseeable future and that’s when he saw one peculiar branch that looked like a finger. He didn’t think more about it and did his little game of pretending…and when he put the ring on the finger. Well…He certainly didn’t expect some half-rotten bride to spurt out of the earth and shout:

"I DO."

But it did. That happened. And then, you wouldn’t leave him—not that he minded. Far from it. He was happy to have a wife (even though the kisses and hugs were a lil’ cold) He wondered about telling people about his…well…new ‘bride’. But, he thought better of it when he realised how lonely and sad you were. It didn’t matter that you called him Victor. Or Marvin. Or Hector. Or Derek for that matters…He would take any name if it meant you would stay and love him. And you had said ‘I do’. No takebacksies now.

Michael Myers:

Michael was confused when he first saw you sprang up from the earth. Weird. His victims usually stayed dead. He tried to stab you but…Oops. Already dead. He quickly realised that you must be like Jack Torrance—a ghost. He also understood that stabbing you would be a waste of time. He tried to ignore you, but you would then appear at random times and tell him that you were married and that he was your Victor. As Michael doesn’t speak, he couldn’t rectify you.

Hence, he became ‘Victor’ to you.

At the end, he learnt to tolerate your presence. Especially at night when he would normally sleep alone with his regrets, he would feel your hand stroking his head and your voice singing him lullabies…Maybe having a dead bride wouldn’t be that bad…?

One day, you showed him an old picture of you. He looked at it and you could see that something was bothering him. You asked him about it, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t tell you he remembered you. He didn’t tell you he remembered your wide frightened eyes when he plunged his knife deep into your heart the day you were supposed to marry…or the way he mercilessly beheaded your betrothed.

That was a story he would rather never share with you.

[thesuperiorrobin]

𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Florists!Fem!Reader

Word count: 570

Warning: Damian and reader are in their twenties, mentions of flowers and their opposite meanings(hatred,Stupidly, etc) this post was on Pinterest that was taken from tumblr but lost it and now I can’t find OG creator. If you know the OG creator of if this looks familiar please let me know so I can tag them. Mentions of the word skank.

A/n: i never realize how horrible 2000s magazines were until I read some my mom kept😭 Also this is all Bs. I’m sure all of these are not right bc I looked them up.

the flower shop was quiet today, it was nice but boring. When the shop was running slow time I’m the place slows down too. And you hated it. You were stuck making sure the flowers were perfect even if they were and you were just trying to make your shift go faster. But none of that seemed to work.

You somehow find yourself reading old magazines from the two-thousands you found in the back of the shop. Your elbows are rested up against the top of the displaced case, flipping through the reach page as you read every box and bubble carefully.

“What makes a girl a skank? Huh?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you flip the page “Two thousands magazines are something else”

(and trust me they are).

The sound of the bell ringing makes you perk up, indicating someone entered the store. You close the magazine before you walk around the display case to face the customer who entered. You stand there surprised, eyes coming in context with green ones that you recognize from pictures and the news—also ones you see everyday when you go to sleep and when you wake up in the morning.

Damian Wayne stands in front of you and he doesn’t look happy. You smiled at him, welcoming him in. You bring him in a small short hug before pulling apart. Your lips lock for a short second before pulling away again.

“Hey. It’s a surprise seeing you here today. Do you need something?”

He gives you a nod “Do you have anything—flowers, that are symbolic of hatred? Maybe stupidity?” You were taken aback by the question.

Not that many people come in asking for flowers with bad meaning towards them—normally they come in asking for flowers that mean love.

You cleared your throat. “I believe I do, follow me”

You take him further down the shop. In the back laid different kinds of flowers, separated by name and by color.

“There’s a couple I know by heart that have both good and bad meanings to them” You start off eyeing every flower carefully as you try and remember the bad. You point up at the orange butterfly weeds, and Damian follows your finger “Those are very beautiful ones but no one gets them because they literally mean ‘be warned’. Which is shameful because they always die out here”

“Is that why you have so many back at home?” Damian asked softly, placing a firm hand behind your back.

You hum “or orange lilies maybe? They mean hatred and other rough emotions. There are also carnations, which mean disappointment. You can also get black roses. Those work too. What do you think?” You look up at your lover waiting for a response as he looks over the flowers.

He pulls out his wallet “How about all that you just named?” You give him a grin. Collecting the flowers and putting them together to make a beautiful bouquet.

You ring him up. “Are these for your wife Mr.Wayne?” You tease playfully.

“Nonsense, my wife deserves better flowers that do not mean hatred” he scuffs as he plays along.

“She’s a lucky girl”

“Yes, she is” he smiles down at you lovingly. He hands you a fifty dollar bill for a bouquet that cost thirty-five and seventeen in change. He refuses the extra amount left over.

“Keep it. Use it to bye more butterfly weeds” you sigh.

When Damian made up his mind he’s too stubborn to change it.

“Who are they for anyway?” You asked. Tilting you head as you put the rest of the money away.

“Tim was being idiotic during patrol and landed himself in the hospital”

“Oh”

[the-s1lly-corner]

What its like hugging the creepypasta characters

jeff and ben and toby are the only ones written as strictly platonic but the others can be seen either or! kind of wanted to do something easy for creepypasta characters (+ masky and hoodie) since i missed writing for these bozos </3 that said requests for creepypasta are open so crp fans go ham! return to this blogs roots! rah! written more as a rating as well as how it actually feels to hug them and not really a scenario that leads to you guys hugging yk?

SLENDERMAN:

very tall and skinny, maybe even boney. im still trying to decide if slenderman/slenderbeings have internal organs/bones/ect... though i can say that slenderman is fairly cold. hes not ICE cold, but hes noticeably cooler than your average person. can adjust his height to better suit his needs, so you dont have to worry about literally climbing him like a tree if you want to give him some affection... likes wrapping some of his tentacles around you during an embrace. not bone crushing, but not... well now its hard to explain, he seems odd with affection, not too sure how long or how tight to hold you... but hes learning! 7/10 love him, my tall wife

SPLENDORMAN:

very similar to slenderman in the regard that hes also very skinny and tall, though i do think hes just a teeeeeeny tiiiiiiny warmer than his brother! not by much but its a noticeable difference! loves lightly swinging you around before tugging you close to his chest, sometimes sways a little while holding you! holds you a little tighter than slenderman does. perhaps even nests his head on top of yours when you guys hug. honestly i can see him having a habit of just picking you up and carrying you around, platonic or romantic it doesnt matter, hes going to do it unless you express that you dont like it... 8/10 due to him being a little less cold (emotionally and physically)

EYELESS JACK:

now this ones ice cold, like youre going to need to bundle up if you want to cuddle up next to him since hes going to just snatch the heat out of you in a few minutes. admin personally hcs him to be on the shorter and thicker side, so theres that at least! very soft! generally not the type to seek out affection, though, so youre going to need to step up and initiate a lot of that stuff. not that he doesnt want it, he just doesnt really think about it all that much + he may or may not fear taking a bite out of you. shrugs... though i like to think that despite that, he can give some solid hugs! 6/10

LAUGHING JACK:

very warm, always seeking attention and affection from you so hugs are not in short supply. sometimes purrs when you guys hug, and similar to splendorman hes going to swing you around a bit.. though sometimes he gets too into it or too excited and it comes off more as thrashing you around. probably when hes feeling a little sillier than usual he pokes his cone nose into your cheek (gently). wraps his arms around you, like. totally around you since his arms can stretch and they dont really have.... bones... you know? probably sometimes hugs you from behind, typically after sneaking up behind you/poofing behind you from his smoke thing 8/10, would say 10/10 but i think he might accidentally crush you to death

MASKY/TIM:

not... very.. good at hugs. at most youre going to get one of those side hugs from him, at least when hes awake. sometimes when you two cuddle and he falls asleep, hes wrapping his arms around you and locking you in to his chest. normal body heat, maybe a little above average, but nothing too insane since hes still a human... hmm... doesnt really give those two armed hugs unless hes sleeping or you were just in danger. adrenaline and fear can do a lot to someone, you know... 6.5/10 masky gets a higher score than EJ since hes warmer

as for tim, hes a little more open to giving you affection, i think! while masky only really does it when you ask, i like to think that tim might be more likely to do it unprompted! likes resting his head/chin/jaw on your shoulder or head, depends on the height difference! 7/10

HOODIE/BRIAN:

i think in general i tend to type hoodie as a touch more open/social than masky.. masky tends to be a little... eh... he expresses stuff less than hoodie, at least in my take. shrugs. i do think hoodie likes to hug you from behind when youre doing something. very tall, personally hc him to be roughly 6 feet tall. neither buff nor skinny, have some pudge. generally very comfy, plus his hoodie is sometimes nice and soft, sometimes warm if you've managed to get him to wash it! likes swaying you a little while he looks over your shoulder to see what youre doing, only occasionally letting go to sign something to you.. 8/10

brian is more or less the same, but hes verbal so his hands are staying put on you. i also think hes a little bolder and more willing to just hold you whenever, let that man be affectionate with the reader! if this is romantic he likely puts his hands on your hips.. also 8/10

TICCI TOBY:

very affection starved, i think, but he also doesnt really initiate anything due to a deep rooted fear of rejection. so youre going to need to take the lead here! skin and bones, very cold since skinny people tend to be colder (at least in my experience with hugging!). when you guys do hug he does tend to hold you a little too tight. he doesnt mean anything malicious by it, its just that hes truly not used to hugging people and also subconsciously he doesnt want the hug to end, you know? 7/10 me thinks

BEN DROWNED:

very short very cold and... damp? i personally headcannon that the most of the time hes in a digital device, but on the rare chance hes in the real world... hes very cold and as previously mentioned damp. might also have a general electric buzz about him, too. kind of like holding a cold soggy plushie straight from a washing machine. not at all pleasant but he cant help it :( 4/10 the ghost boy does not make a good hugger there isnt much else to be said

JEFF THE KILLER:

very lanky, admin also headcannons him to be very tall. like 6'2. lanky fucker. probably a "where's my hug" person but not in the gross neckbeard way and more so mocking those kinds of people because the look you give him makes him lose his shit and cackle. his jacket kind of smells, youre going to have to get him to go wash it. it doesnt smell putrid or anything but it definitely needs a wash. what being a dude on the run after committing homicide does to a mf 5/10 only because he has a weird aura

PUPPETEER:

VERY lanky and VERY cold, kind of rigid thanks to his weird puppet joints. kind of like hugging a wooden puppet. i dont think thats a pleasant thing.... hm... is usually slightly levitating off of the ground so its even harder to get a hold of him, given that hes also already really tall as is... you have to make him stop hunching over so you can actually get in there. absolutely basks in the fact that youre giving your time and energy to him, kind of gets annoying with it sometimes but thats just him being an ass. 6/10 but only because i fuck with him sometimes when i remember him

[gothamite-rambler]

Stephanie Brown spitting facts

Stephanie: Beyonce can sing about being a boy and if she was one she'd cry and feel hurt! Well dang it, if I was a man, a strong man, I'd wear shirts with short sleeves or NO sleeves! Wife-beaters, we should change the name by the way, muscle shirts, tight shorts to show off my slutty legs!

Stephanie playfully kicked her leg up evading hitting Jason in the head.

Stephanie: And my tight hero suit would show off my hot bod- That's Jason and Dick!

Cass (adding in): And Tim.

Jason (innocent): What?

Stephanie poked Jason's bicep making him jerk his arm back while a blush crept on his cheeks.

Stephanie: What are you eating to get these pythons?

Jason: No, damn it. Not again. I had to deal with a creepy woman flirting with me and leaving her husband. Leave me alone!

Tim (correcting Steph): I don't wear slutty shorts... but the rest is true.

Stephanie: I knew it!

Duke (upset): Nah, wait... why was I not included? I can be slutty! Jason give me one of your shirts!

Jason (hugging his body): I don't want to be included in this. I was just reading my book while we had breakfast!

Duke: Whatever. I can be Sasha Fierce! Give me a muscle shirt and a cool car!

Stephanie: Oh Duke, you have to work up to it. Right now you're, good boi, but you'll get to himbo. Ain't that right, Dick?

Dick (speaking up): I've been called a Himbo in the past and I appreciate the compliment. I'm not going to have this body and not flaunt it. I appreciate you finally noticing.

Stephanie: It's what I'm here for, but dang it, I just realized my butt isn't big and firm like yours, so I can't be himbo.

Dick: I do a lot of squats. Thank you again.

Jason (covering his ears): Stop it! I'm just a child why are saying all of this!

Jason laid his head on the table wondering how he got thrown into conversation. Cass patted him on the back of his head.

Cass: She's just saying you're pretty, sweetie.

Jason (fake whimpering): No she's not. I feel verbally violated.

Stephanie: Oh please, be a girl for the day. Babs what do you think?

Everyone turned to a silent Barbara who had been minding her business and enjoying her coffee. She raised her eyebrow annoyed.

Barbara: I think I wanted to remain unnoticed in the background and drink my tea.

Barbara rolled away mildly disgusted.

Stephanie: Are you thinking about the times you and Dick-

Barbara (shouting): It was three times of regret: FUCK OFF!

Dick started laughing along with Tim, but Duke pouted upset he wasn't counted. Stephanie nodded with a satisfied smile.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Mom and Dad Are Still Fighting

Part 2 of The Bradfords

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!wife!reader

Summary: After a long night, you're grateful for Lucy and all she does for you. You continue protecting her from Tim's attitude, even though you're lying to them.

Warnings: mostly fluff, brief angst, threats and robbery. typical rookie stuff.

Word Count: 1.4k+ words

A/N: I love this dynamic!! Two Bradfords caring about Lucy in their own ways is so fun to write (and being married to Tim is a dream by itself). I will continue abusing Chenford gifs for this storyline lol.

“Good morning, Mom,” Lucy calls as she enters the bullpen. 

She passes you a cup of your favorite drink, and you look at Tim quickly. He tilts his chin to the side, and you nod once. You’ve been talking without speaking for years, and you’re more grateful than ever for your silent language.

“Thank you so much, Lucy,” you say.

You pull her into a hug that lasts longer than usual. She couldn’t know that you had a long night and needed this today: the drink and the hug. Hence, your shared ‘did you tell her?’ ‘no, she just cares’ look shared with Tim.

“Where’s mine?” Tim inquires with his brows raised.

“I, uh, I didn’t know your order,” Lucy says carefully. “Sorry.”

Angela calls for you, and you thank Lucy again as you walk away. Tim watches you go; he knows you aren’t feeling great and appreciates Lucy’s care on your behalf.

“Thanks, Chen,” he says.

“For what? I didn’t get you anything.”

“You should know that caring about her is the same as caring about me. At least as far as I’m concerned,” he answers. “Now get ready.”

Your long night catches up to you quickly. By your mid-morning break, you’re feeling tired and stressed. The worst part of what you’re feeling is that you haven’t told anyone why you’re feeling it. Tim stayed up with you most of the night and held you to comfort you, and while you appreciate it, it only upsets you more because he did it without asking why you needed it.

“7-Adam-19 requesting backup,” Chen calls over the radio. “11351; suspect in possession of heroin and oxycodone.”

“Dispatch, attach me to 7-Adam-19’s backup call,” you request.

You drive to the address dispatch provided and hope your day improves after seeing Tim again. When you arrive, the suspect is cuffed and in the back of Tim’s shop as they search his car for other drugs.

“Hey,” you call as you exit your car. “What do you need?”

Tim looks at you as Lucy says, “Suspect escort and search assistance.”

“I can do either. Let me know what you want me to do,” you offer.

“Suspect escort, please,” Tim answers. He tips his head to the side, and you walk to the sidewalk with him.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

“Yeah. So, you just want me to get him to booking?” you reply, brushing off Tim's concern.

“Please. Will you tell me if you stop being okay?”

“Yes, Tim. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you at lunch.”

You turn away from Tim and move the driver in custody into your shop to take him back to the station. Tim and Lucy abandon their search to watch you leave.

“Is she alright?” Lucy asks.

You turn a corner, disappearing from Tim’s view, and his jaw tightens. He couldn’t get an answer from you, and now Lucy thinks he knows everything in your head. Tim refuses to show worry, so he lets his concern come out as anger and annoyance.

“That is not your business or an appropriate topic to discuss while we are on duty, Chen. Focus,” he replies.

Lucy nods and returns to the search of the car, but she’s beginning to feel just as stressed as you and Tim. You all care about each other and moving around in circles like this won’t help.

“Goodnight, Luce,” you call as you walk beside Tim to go home.

“Hey, do you want to go to dinner with me on Friday?” she asks. “Just to catch up, hang out?”

“Yeah, that sounds fun,” you answer with a smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Tim grumbles beside you, and you’re convinced it’s because he didn’t get an invite.

“We’ll have breakfast Saturday,” you promise him.

Lucy laughs behind you, and you wave over your shoulder as Tim spreads his hand across your back and leads you toward his truck. You know he’ll hold you close again all night, even if you don’t ask, because he comforts you without pushing you. When or if you want to talk about it, he’s ready to listen, but he knows what it is like to need room, and he’d never take that from you or force you to tell him anything before you’re ready. He’s amazing, and you wish you could share what is bothering you, but you can’t put any more people in danger.

When dispatch alerts you to a call in your area, you accept it, hoping to get your mind off everything. The officer reads Lucy’s apartment building address, and your stomach drops. You tell dispatch to attach Bradford and Chen to the call before hitting your lights and sirens to get there as fast as possible.

The apartment building, for the most part, has been ransacked. Doors are broken, windows broken and locks picked, and residents’ belongings are strewn through the halls, but nothing appears to be missing. Tim and Lucy arrive a few minutes after you do and meet you on Lucy’s floor. Her apartment is trashed, but she can’t see where anything has been stolen.

You lead Tim through the other side of her apartment before stopping suddenly.

“Tim,” you whisper. “Someone called me a few nights ago… They threatened to do something to Lucy, and I think this was it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.

He looks over your shoulder to ensure no one is listening before giving you his complete attention.

“Wade knew, but he said that you and Lucy shouldn’t know because the threat was vague, and it would just put you on edge.”

“That should have been my decision!”

“Tim, I’m sorry.”

Tim’s eyes soften before he nods. “Is that what you’ve been so upset about? You were worried about Chen?”

“Yes,” you admit softly. “But this looks planned, intentional. They only went into certain apartments, and the stuff thrown everywhere was an afterthought.”

“Someone was looking for something,” Tim agrees.

“But what?”

Tim looks around before yelling, “Chen! Get in here!”

“Yes, sir?” she asks as she enters.

“What do you have in here that someone would be so desperate to get?” he asks.

“I don’t-“

“Don’t tell me that you don’t know. Think about it, Lucy. What would someone risk their freedom, their life for, and do this kind of damage to hide?”

Lucy taps her fingers against her thigh as she thinks. Your surprise phone call didn't provide information about what they wanted, so you stay quiet.

“Well?” Tim pushes.

“Give her a second to think,” you scold. “She didn’t ask for this, she’s not the criminal. Be nice.”

Tim clenches his jaw. In his mind, she may as well be the criminal. She led someone to her apartment, to you, and you’ve been worried because of her. His annoyance and need for answers is justified.

“Wait, I got a necklace at a police auction!” she says suddenly.

“You bought jewelry at a police auction?” Tim asks. “Last boyfriend really that cheap?”

You elbow Tim and shake your head. “Leave her alone.”

“Who buys a single necklace at a police auction?” he argues. “A car, a trailer, sure. But one necklace?”

“It was expensive,” Lucy defends.

“Which means whoever wants it is probably the one responsible for the police having it,” you deduce. “I’m going to go help them search the upper floors. Tim, be nice. Lucy, look for the necklace, please.”

You walk into the stairwell and find yourself face-to-face with a Humphrey Bogart wannabe in a ski mask. It takes less than thirty seconds to get the cuffs on him, and based on his surprise, he thought he had already outsmarted the cops with the widespread burglary distraction.

After you pass him off to another officer, you return to Lucy’s apartment and let them know he’s in custody.

“Bradford, why does my suspect have a black eye?” Wade asks over the radio.

“He threatened Lucy,” you answer quickly. “But, who knows, maybe he already had that. He was wearing a ski mask, after all.”

“You hit him for threatening your puppy, station kid, whatever you call her?” Tim asks with his brows raised.

“Thanks, Mom,” Lucy calls from her bedroom.

“We’re leaving,” Tim announces. “Good luck finding your criminal necklace.”

“It’s pretty!” Lucy yells as you walk out.

“I need a nap now,” you tell Tim.

He nods and says, “I always need one after working with Chen.”