#tim: i had a DATE and i dropped EVERYTHING to save your ass | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

avisisisis · 1 year

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DC headcanons but you can tell who's my favorite

For some reason Wally cries everytime he eats chicken nuggets with the Titans

Not even Wally knows why this happens

It's only with the original Titans. No one else. They have a rule that says Wally isn't allowed to eat chicken nuggets when he's around them because they all hate to see him cry

Iris sleeptalks. Barry sometimes has full conversations that make no sense with her at four in the morning

Hal has a video that lasts 40 minutes saved on every single piece of technology he has. It's about Iris (who was asleep) and Barry (very much awake, but probably delusional) arguing about whether koalas are evil or not

Tim had a Tumblr blog where he posted photos of Batman and Robin that looked like they were taken from very close angles

Jason follows it. One time he was complaining that his favorite blog hadn't posted anything in years. When Tim asked him to show him what account it was, he panicked, tried to run away, hit his head and passed out from exhaustion

Jason is still confused about that, but no matter how much he insists, Tim refuses to give his secret away

Wally has a deep hatred for Dora the Explorer

The Young Justice once ran away to a different country for a whole month and refused to acknowledge it when they came back

Iris, Barry and Hal are all dating. Barry didn't realize it at first though (Hal didn't either)

Barry was really panicking over the fact that he seemed to be in love with his best friend when he's already married

Hal was really panicking over the fact that he was in love with his best friend who is already married

Iris thought they were all just poly. They had a very long conversation after she realized none of them knew about polyamorous relationships

Wally and Dick, even though they both have their own romantic partners, are soulmates in every universe (can be seen as romantic or platonic)

Wally once got both him and Dick (as Flash and Nightwing) banned from a cafe. Dick wasn't even there

He accidentally knocked a candle and burned the table down

But what actually got them banned was commenting to the very homophobic owner that “I don't have a major opinion on that Nightwing guy besides of the fact that he gives some really good blowjobs” (they never even fucked)

In Wally's defense, he was really unstable at the moment, and he panicked

Of course, people filmed it. And, of course, it went viral. Now all of his friends quote him on that all the time

Technically they're not banned anymore because the cafe's owner changed, but he's still too embarrassed to go so he ignores that

All speedsters are constantly vibrating, some being more obvious than others, due to the fact that being still is... really fucking difficult because of everything being slower for them

Bart's the most noticeable one. If you pay enough attention you'll notice that you can sometimes see a little bit of lightning coming out of his body

The vibrations causes them to do a low rumbling sound that isn't exactly snoring when they're sleeping. What I'm saying is that they purr

Linda was thrilled when she found out

None of the speedsters are aware of this and no one plans on telling them

One time the YJ were talking and Bart interrupted them so Tim turned around to face him and said “Cerra el orto” (shut your mouth in Spanish. The literal translation would be “shut your ass” but that sounds weird in English) in a really high pitched voice. Now the entire team quotes him on that almost everyday

Diana almost dropped a car on Bruce once and now she sometimes says stuff like “I should've let that car kill you” when he's doing something particularly stupid

The rest of the JL quotes it too. It is very common to hear the phrase “I wish Diana had dropped that car” in the Watchtower

Kori once blew up the kitchen because she thought something was climbing on her leg. It was her hair

The original Titans have a monthly meetup. It doesn't matter what kind of beef some of the members have with each other at the moment, they'll still meet. It's an unspoken rule

Hartley was Linda's best man in her and Wally's wedding

That's where him and Dick met

They now share embarassing stories about Wally. They're not really friends and they don't talk, like, at all, but they still send each other videos of Wally falling on his face almost everyday

Depression, just like ADHD, is something that almost all speedsters have, but it's almost unnoticeable because they always hide it, mostly using their superspeed to do it

Green lanterns and speedsters bond over starting to glow at the worst possible moments

Wally absolutely despises the smell of cinnamon

His parents's house smelled like that due to his mom being obssessed with adding cinnamon to every meal they ate, so it reminds him too much of the terrible childhood he had because of them

You can't really blame him for leaving social events when he smells cinnamon

Bruce has a video of Hal starting crying after Barry said “I think giraffes shouldn't be real” that he uses as blackmail sometimes

Barry's actual weakness is puns, he can't stop saying stuff like “I'll be there in a flash” and then winking like he knows something you don't. It's gonna get him in trouble someday

The YJ all have Tumblr accounts

Dick and Donna used to call each other the “Wonder Twins” so now Cassie and Tim are the Wonder Twins of their generation

The og Titans once followed Batman everywhere playing Superman by Eminem because he made Dick upset

Barry looks like he's about to cry all the time and he has no idea why

When the League revealed their identities to each other everyone was confused over why he was crying

It took him a while to convince everyone that that's just what his face looks like

He always looks like he's about to cry so when he's actually going to cry it's pretty obvious. And he hates it

When Wally and Barry first met and Wally started to talk about the Flash, he made a joke about how he always came to help “in a flash”. Now Barry repeats that joke all the time

Wally hates himself for being the reason why the ‘in a flash’ jokes started

When Barry makes a joke and Wally complains, Barry answers with “You were the one that created the joke, Wally. Live with the consequences”

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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My Brother's Best Friend Is The One For Me

Wally West x Batsis!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.6K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Got to rereading my Batsis fics and came across the "What A Flashy Romance" and wanted to do another one with Wally because I love him. Enjoy! -Thorne

Being the middle child and also the only girl in the Batfamily meant two things:

1. She had four brothers that treated her like a porcelain doll, despite the fact that she could throw a punch at 336 PSI.

And

2. She followed an unspoken rule that Dick and Jason’s friends were off limits when it came to dating.

In all, neither of those things were major problems. She’d learned at a young age how to avoid Dick and Jason’s overbearing-protective-brother-modes, and Tim and Damian were younger, so she didn’t have to worry about them. The second one was also avoidable—most of her older brothers’ friends were the same, and she wasn’t around most of them to develop any feelings.

Well, there was Wally, but it was just a crush. A stupid, little school-girl crush—that she’d never really grown out of—that didn’t matter in the slightest. Except whenever Dick brought him over to the house and she had to pretend that sitting next to him didn’t make her heart race like she’d run a mile.

And the most annoying thing about the whole crush is that she couldn’t tell if Wally was ever interested in her or not. Most of Dick’s friends, Garth, Kyle, Roy, they treated her like a little sister—hell, they even said “Love you lil sis!” to her regularly. And yet, Wally didn’t. Now, there was the occasional head pat, but even that was an affectionate gesture that siblings and SO’s did all the time. It was infuriating, and so was Wally—but she was going to sort it all out the next time he came over because the worst thing he could say was “No”, and either she needed to hear that…or “Yes”.

***

Normal Sundays for the Wayne household usually meant Ultimate Waffle Breakfast and sitting on your ass all day until patrol—it was the one day of the week where they could do anything and nothing and didn’t have to stick to schedules. Everyone loved Sundays, especially (Y/N), because it meant that all of her family was home, even Jason (who tried to deny that he enjoyed coming home to hang out, but if that mile long grin was any help, he was lying). And while everyone was home, that usually meant that everybody’s friends were coming over too.

***

She swiped the syrup out of Jason’s hand when he swung it back around, grinning at him when he glared at her.

“I was gonna use that, (Y/N),” he griped, and she shrugged, uncapping the bottle.

She tipped it over and watched the syrup lazily pour out of the container onto her waffles.

“You were taking too long.” Her eyes twinkled with humor. “I guess you were as…slow as molasses.”

While most of the table groaned at her terrible joke, Dick snorted into his milk, causing it to splatter on his plate and across the table.

“Nice one,” he coughed, wiping his face and the dark oak surface.

(Y/N) bowed dramatically. “Well, I did learn from the best.” When Dick’s face lit up, she turned to Alfred and smiled. “Alfie, thank you for teaching me your ways.”

The old butler merely tipped his head, a hidden smile crossing his lips at the way the eldest son’s jaw went slack. She turned her attention to Bruce who was quietly chewing, eyes following along the research paper she’d asked him to check out.

“Dad, what’s on your agenda for today?”

He swallowed and flicked a line out with a red pen, etching his own comment in the margin. “Lucius has a few ideas about some new gadgets he wanted to run by me.” Another line went out. “I’ll call him after breakfast.” Bruce looked at her. “You?”

(Y/N) nodded at the paper in his hands, then slapped Jason’s who was reaching over to take a piece of bacon from her plate. “Waiting for you to finish tearing me a new one so I can redo the paper.” She cut into the waffle with the side of her fork. “Once I salvage what little scientific dignity you’ve left me with, I’ll probably laze around.”

“You mean what you do normally?” Bruce quipped, grinning when she glowered at him; his eyes went back to her paper. “You’re doing well so far.”

She huffed. “Tell that to every red line you’ve marked out in that paragraph.”

He flashed the paper. “I’m writing in the margins how to change it. This isn’t a dissertation, sweetheart. You’re allowed to make mistakes. We all do.”

(Y/N) grumbled as her cheeks warmed and she went back to her plate as the conversation flowed around her.

Most of it was the discussion of what everyone was planning on doing, Damian was going to play video games, Tim was going to join him (which she knew was going to be fun while the moment lasted until the petty sibling rivalry got in the way and their gaming dwindled into a physical fight that she and probably Dick were going to have to break up), Jason was going to use the workbench in the cave to upgrade some gear, and Dick apparently,

“Wally and Garth are gonna come over later and hang out.”

She paused, mid-stab of her fork and looked at up. “Wally’s coming over?”

He nodded. “And Garth. We were gonna go to the mall and get some new clothes.”

Jason snorted, laying an arm over the backs of Tim and (Y/N)’s chairs. “Spending money with daddy’s credit card, Dickie?”

Dick smirked. “Just like you.” Jason merely matched his grin, and while the entire table was cracking up at Bruce’s frown, (Y/N) was silent, heart beating faster at the thought of seeing Wally.

“(Y/N)?” She startled and looked up at Dick.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you were okay. You got quiet all of the sudden.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Yeah, just thought about all of the corrections I’m gonna have to do because somebody CAN’T STOP MARKING OUT MY PARAGRAPHS.” Bruce merely smiled and knocked out another line.

It was a lie. It was the biggest lie she’d told right next to the one she told when Bruce had asked her where she was on prom night her senior year a few years ago—she was totally not saving a different sector of the universe with Kyle Rayner, she was dancing with Sam Reilly all night—she strongly believed her dad knew the truth—Batman knew everything.

Bruce handed the paper back to her and she groaned as she scanned the red lines on every page. It was going to take her hours to go over this.

Jason leaned over and read the title, “Cellular Division and Mutation Under Extreme Elemental Circumstances…a composition by (Y/N) Wayne.” He cocked a dark brow. “Go big or go home, huh, baby girl?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Doctor Halberd wanted us to pick challenging topics for the research paper this term.” A crooked smile crossed her lips. “I’m nothing if not ambitious about proving I’m smarter than everyone else.”

“You need another source,” Bruce murmured, sipping the steaming black coffee. “One-fourteen is good, but I’d go for one-fifteen.”

She groaned and dropped her head. “Are you kidding me? I had enough trouble gathering that many.”

“Why don’t you use Barry?” Tim piped up, mouth full of whip cream and strawberries.

“Master Timothy, we do not talk with our mouth full,” Alfred admonished, and Tim blushed.

(Y/N)’s head shot up and she stared at her brother. “That’s actually a good idea. Speedsters would make for perfect references about cellular division.” An idea popped into her head and she glanced at Dick. “And since Wally is com—”

“Nope,” Dick interrupted, pointing at her. “Wally is coming over to hang out, not to be poked and prodded to finish a paper.”

She let out a whine and turned to Bruce. “Dad, tell Dick to let me at least talk to Wally about it.”

Bruce turned his attention onto Dick. “Let your sister talk to Wally about her paper.”

“Oh, come on,” he complained and (Y/N) stood from her seat, hurrying around the table to stand behind Dick’s seat.

She draped herself over his shoulders, tucking her chin in the crook of his neck. “I promise I won’t be annoying if you let me come with you. I’ll ask two questions every thirty minutes and I’ll go do shopping on my own, so I won’t be in the way.” (Y/N) craned her neck and pulled the most pitiful puppy eyes she could. “Please?”

Dick’s eyes darted to her face and then he looked away. Just one more push.

“Please frate?” she begged and when his eyes went wide from the usage of his native tongue, she knew she’d won him over.

He deflated and let out a sigh. “Fine,” he grumbled. “You can come with us.”

(Y/N) squealed and pressed a kiss to his cheekbone, as she grabbed the paper and hurried towards the door. She halted and spun around, looking at her father.

“What do I need to be most specific about?”

“Division under elemental circumstances.”

She glowered at him. “No shit Sherlock. Specifics.”

“Molecular division under terrestrial gamma-ray flashes.”

“That’ll work,” (Y/N) nodded and exited to room.

Jason looked out the door then back to his brothers. “She’s way to excited about science sometimes.” They merely laughed.

***

She raised the red lace, cold shoulder V-neck shirt to her chest before frowning, and switching it with the full lace blue shirt with mini golden lightning bolt charms hanging off the trim. After a moment, she pulled the blue one down and sighed.

“You know, if you want to impress him, I’d wear the red shirt.”

She jumped and barely managed to suppress the scream that was coming up in her throat as she swiveled around to face her door. Jason stood in the doorway, a knowing look on his face. She could play this one of two ways: she could be truthful, or she could lie—she chose the latter.

“What do you mean?” He snorted and walked into her room, taking a seat at her desk.

“I mean if you’re trying to impress Wally, wear the shirt that’s the color of his suit, (Y/N).” She looked away and into the mirror, but she couldn’t escape the eyes boring into her back.

“Is it that obvious?” she asked quietly, and he laughed.

“That you’re head over heels for Dick’s best friend? Oh yeah. Totally.”

She sighed and sat on her bed, pulling the red top over her torso. “It’s just a crush.”

“Seems like more than a crush to me, baby girl.”

(Y/N) pulled the fabric down and looked at him. “Are you gonna tell Dick?”

Jason scoffed. “Do I look like a narc to you?”

She cocked a brow and deadpanned, “Just the other night you told dad that Damian lifted Two-Face’s wallet when he was being put in a cruiser.”

“Well, that wasn’t something important,” he countered and nodded at her. “This is.” He paused and shrugged. “Nah, I’m not gonna tell Dickhead. Play this out however you see fit, baby girl.”

(Y/N) stared at him for a moment then averted her gaze and let out a sigh; Jason huffed.

“That sounds like a heavy sigh, (Y/N). What’s wrong?”

She shrugged. “I don’t even know if Wally would be interested in me. He’s him and I’m me.”

Jason stood and walked over, kneeling in front of her. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

(Y/N) met his eyes. “Anytime he’s had a girlfriend she’s always been super strong or really outspoken.”

“And you’re not?” he quipped, causing her to huff.

“You know what I mean, Jay.”

He nodded. “Okay, so you’re not an Amazon or shoving your head up someone’s ass for a story. But you’re you.”

“And that means?”

“You’re the only daughter of the World’s Greatest Detective who’s a wicked smart science major by day and a badass vigilante by night.” He cupped her cheeks. “You are intelligent, warmhearted, talented, and absolutely beautiful.” Jason smushed her cheeks together and grinned as she giggled. “And if Wally doesn’t see any of what I just said, then he’s a damn fool and not worth your time. You hear me, baby girl?”

She nodded. “I hear you.”

Jason gave her a firm nod and let go, standing to his feet. “Now come on let’s go do your makeup.”

(Y/N) blinked. “You can do makeup?”

“Baby girl, I can do a lot of things. Now hurry up. That razor sharp eye liner and golden eyeshadow isn’t going to do itself.”

***

She waited beside Dick with a pleasant smile on her face, and despite the fluttering heartbeat in her chest, Jason’s pep talk kept running through her head and with every passing moment, she felt her confidence rising. He was right, if she told Wally and he didn’t feel the same, then it was his loss and her gain to move on and find someone else.

A black sedan pulled up at the manor and the passenger window rolled down, revealing Wally at the wheel and Garth in the passenger’s seat. Dick waved at them.

“Hey guys,” he greeted. “How was the drive over?”

“Oh, you know, we saw three carjacking’s and one armed robbery,” Garth quipped. “I assume that’s normal for Gotham though.”

“It’s a bit below average actually,” (Y/N) piped up. “Hi Garth. Hi Wally.”

Wally smiled and Garth waved in return as the two siblings started getting in the car.

“You’re coming with us, (Y/N)?” Wally questioned and she nodded.

“Do you want me to lie to you or give you the truth?”

He chuckled. “I’m always open for a good story.”

“I wanted to buy out Victoria’s Secret and piss off any boyfriends who are in hot water with their girlfriends.” The guys laughed and she admitted, “Truth though, I need one last source for a research paper.”

“Gonna find that source shopping?” Garth asked and (Y/N) caught Wally’s eyes in the rear-view mirror.

“Actually, my last source is Wally.”

They fell silent and looked at her, though the speedster’s focus was on the road.

“What are you gonna source Wally on?” The Atlantean inquired.

“My paper is over cellular mutation under distress from elemental conditions.” She smiled at Wally. “Our speedster here, is a walking subject perfect for the paper. I can only hope that he agrees to be a willing participant.”

Wally chuckled. “I’d be willing to part with a few secrets for you. Of course, I’d have to—”

“Remain anonymous.” (Y/N) winked. “I’m sure my professor would be okay with me citing ‘The Flash’ so long as I had a picture with him to back it up.”

“I like pictures,” he murmured, pulling into the parking lot.

“That’s good to know,” she replied and when he put the car in park, she took her purse and added, “So I’ll leave you boys to do your shopping and Wally, I’ll text you any questions I have.”

“You’re not gonna hang around?” Garth asked and she shook her head.

“Nah, I don’t wanna be the annoying little sister who follows her older brother and his friends around.” She smiled at them. “Besides, Dick was kind enough to let me come along. Least I can do is stay out of your way.”

(Y/N) opened the door and waved at them. “Text me when you’re ready to leave and I’ll meet you back here.”

***

Despite the initial joke that she was going to buy out the lingerie store, there was actually some truth in the statement, and she drew her fingers over one of the lace baby dolls as she looked at her phone, grinning like a dope at Wally’s response.

Well, I wouldn’t say I’d grow a second skin from how fast my cells regenerate, but I can make my body heal instantaneously. -W

Can you regenerate limbs or major organs? –(Y/I)

Major organs or useful ones? -W

(Y/N) paused at his response and thought for a moment. It was risky. Sending the text, she was thinking about was risky, but it’d sure get her point across that she was into him. With her heart hammering in her chest, she pushed send and stuck her phone in her pocket.

Whichever ones are useful to you, Wally? ;) –(Y/N)

Her phone didn’t buzz for a good minute, and Wally took less than a second to reply, so he was doing one of two things: A.) Telling Dick that his younger sister sent a flirty text, or B.) Trying to figure out how to let her down easy. (Y/N) didn’t know which one was worse. Her hip buzzed and she inhaled shakily, pulling her phone out of her pocket with one eye cracked open to see how screwed she was.

Do you have a useful one in mind, beautiful? -W

She had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from letting out the biggest gasp any human had ever made, and she nervously looked around her to make sure no one else was staring at her. She grinned as she replied to him.

Oh, I could think of one…or two or three…Why? Is there gonna be a pop quiz over this later? I’ll have you know I’m an excellent test taker. –(Y/N)

Is that so? Well, what happens if you were to fail this particular pop quiz, (Y/N)? -W

I guess you’d have to stay the night for a study session and help me make a better grade ;) –(Y/I)

As she waited for another response, someone’s hand touched the small of her back and she reacted, immediately stepping away from the offending touch to spin on them. Her eyes went wide when she saw Wally standing before her, a grin on his face, phone in his hand.

“I think an overnight study session is possible, (Y/N).”

Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, like a fish until she finally got her brain to work and asked, “I thought you were shopping with Dick and Garth?”

He shrugged. “Told Dick you asked me an advanced question that’d be easier to answer in person than over text.” He wiggled his brows. “You know, advanced equations and scientific gibberish.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and turned back around, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks as she picked up one of the teddies. And when she realized what it looked like, she only felt more flustered. Crimson with baby blue trimming and was practically a shoelace.

“Well, that’sa hint if there ever was one,” Wally quipped, and she pulled the lingerie out of his line of sight.

“It was just the first one I grabbed!” she exclaimed, snapping her mouth shut when people looked over at them. Her cheeks felt like they were wildfires, and she pressed her head against the cool metal of the rack, sighing with what little relief it provided.

“You know, (Y/N),” he started softly. “If you’re not comfortable, this doesn’t have to go anywhere. I can forget this ever happened if you want me to.” (Y/N) opened her eyes and peered at him, at the concern but also the kindness in his gaze.

“I just—” she murmured and trailed off before letting out a sigh. “It’s kinda complicated.”

“Okay,” Wally nodded. “My mouth might work faster than my brain sometimes but lay it on me.”

She cracked a smile and thought back on Jason’s words. If Wally doesn’t see any of what I just said, then he’s a damn fool and not worth your time.

(Y/N) took a deep breath and looked at him, admitting, “Wally, I have…feelings for you.” His eyes widened and though she felt the sting of embarrassment, she pushed out her words. “It’s stupid, like one of those dumb childhood crushes that just sticks with you, you know?”

She averted her gaze and looked at her peep toe heels. “I just don’t wanna screw anything up because even if you don’t feel anything like I do, I don’t wanna lose you as a friend. Because I do value your friendship.” She sighed. “And Dick. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable about coming over to see him if there’s a chance you’ll have to see me too. I just—”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Wally interrupted gently, a smile growing on his face. “You’re thinking way big here, (Y/N). Bigger than you need to right now.”

She met his eyes. “Right now?” she repeated, and he reached out, taking her hand in his. His fingers felt tingly against her palm and he smiled.

“I like you, (Y/N).”

She blinked at him, practically dumbfounded. “You…you do?”

Wally nodded and confessed, “Have for a couple years, but I didn’t wanna make a move not knowing if you were interested.” His cheeks tinged pink, and he said, “But I’m glad you are. Like super glad.” (Y/N) giggled, suddenly feeling really foolish for all her worry and Wally let out a chuckle too.

She stared at him for a moment, relishing the coolness of his skin before pulling away, toying with the teddy in her other hand.

“So, about tonight…you staying over?”

Wally let out a groan and looked between her and the lingerie. “Probably, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to get away long enough to spend some time alone with you.”

(Y/N) let out a ‘pfft’ and winked. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Flash. You are the fastest man alive.”

“You’re into quickies? Good to know,” he grinned.

“Shut up,” she giggled.

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redhoodieone · 3 years

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Fucking Perfect

A/N: Hey, y’all!!! Here’s another fic that was actually a request from @jasontoddslut. I hope you all enjoy!

WARNINGS: Language, violence, and smut!

It wasn’t that late. With a DVD and a large free pepperoni pizza in hand (the pizza was actually a “thank you” from a local pizza owner after Jason saved his life), Jason couldn’t help but keep smiling underneath his red helmet as he drove to his and Danielle’s home. They were supposed to have a night in; no distractions, no interruptions, and no patrolling, for him at least.

But Bruce had called him for help last minute around 9:00 because Joker decided to break out of Arkham Asylum with every other inmate, from Harley Quinn to Scarecrow. To say the mission was bizarre as hell wouldn’t be exaggerating. Jason and Dick laughed their asses off the entire night because it was like a high school reunion for all of Gotham’s villains. Even Bruce couldn’t help but grin a little when he saw the Riddler and Penguin link arms and skip down the street behind Bane, Two Face, Mr. Freeze, and Killer Croc.

It was one hilarious but memorable sight.

But now all Jason could think about was getting back home to Danielle as he speeds down the streets on his bike from Arkham while holding the box of pizza and DVD. Just thinking about a hot shower, cuddling with Danielle on the couch under a fluffy blanket, and just falling asleep in the comfort of their home makes him consider giving up the vigilante life sometimes.

He wondered what his life would be like not being everyone’s hero.

No more subtle or dangerous injuries. Staying in bed the entire night. Having the ability to go here and there and do everything normal like others. Maybe even settling down somewhere in the countryside, where he can finally retain his own property, perhaps build himself his own auto salvage business where he’ll specialize in fixing and rebuilding expensive, fast cars and bikes.

Having something to call his own has always been a secret dream of his. Only Y/N knows all that.

Jason could just see it now: waking up early to see the beautiful sunrise from the safety on the ground, arm wrapped protectively around his wife, who would be pregnant with their child...

He initially tenses up at that particular thought. Jason has never even spoken about his desire to have kids. Hell, he has always boasted about hating kids; often complaining about them being bratty, loud, and just being unbearable little shits.

Jason even pretends to despise Dick and Barbara’s five-year-old son, Tommy, just because he enjoys pissing them off. But in all honesty, Jason loves his nephew and knows damn well that if anything were to happen to Tommy...Jason would fucking kill them in a heartbeat.

Fuck, even Barbara gets on Jason’s ass about when he’s finally going to settle down and have kids of his own. She and Dick make the normal, perfect life look easy. They were brave and strong enough to walk away from the vigilante life, only promising Bruce that they’ll help him every now and then and only for big emergencies.

Jason couldn’t believe it at first. Dick and Barbara just happily moved to a safe, typical suburban but luxurious home far away from Gotham. They made it look so effortless and picture-perfect.

With Dick and Barbara gone, all Jason has is Tim and Damian around. Which isn’t much considering they have their own lives.

And Jason used to have Y/N, his best friend.

Before Jason’s thoughts could consume him more, he pulls up to the private parking garage at his penthouse. After he parks his bike, he climbs off and removes his red helmet; quickly inhaling air after sweating so much. Holding the helmet underneath his left arm, he carries the pizza and DVD and heads to the elevator.

He sighs heavily; his back hurts like fuck after being thrown around a lot from Killer Croc. He wonders if it would be completely sexist or just entirely fucked up if he asks Danielle for a backrub.

We’ve been together for two years. She knows my line of work, and if she really loves me, she’ll give me an all-body massage...and besides...this is the first time I’m asking for one anyways, he thinks to himself.

The elevator dings and opens for him; revealing the private floor that is his, courtesy of Bruce. If it weren’t for Bruce, Jason wouldn’t have the luxury of such a private and quiet place to call home. Bruce owns the entire building, mostly business associates and employees live and stay here anyways.

Jason walks to the door and opens it; is actually quite stunned that it’s unlocked. Mostly because he’s OCD about that, even if this floor and this entire building is private, Jason still likes to take precaution.

The guy fucking grew up on the streets and has seen and done bad things. Really bad. But he’s not like that anymore. Oh, no he’s not. Now, Jason lives by his new principles, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a badass anymore or is violent by nature. He is still Jason Todd.

Stepping inside his penthouse, Jason kicks the front door shut with his heavy boot and sets the pizza and DVD on the entryway table. He puts his helmet back on and quickly pulls a gun from his thigh holster. Jason takes this seriously, just as with any mission or recon.

He quietly goes down the hallway, immediately notices their bedroom door is cracked open and a light is on. He raises his gun and says...

Fuck it. I’m going in with my gun. Hope this all ends well with no blood.

Jason kicks open the bedroom door and has the most fucked up, perfect view of his girlfriend, Danielle, in bed with another man; a man who is on top of her, fucking her underneath the covers, IN THEIR BED!!!!!

Danielle gasps in surprise. “Jason! What-what are you doing home so early?!” she panics. She sits up and pushes the man off of her. Her tits are on display, after the blanket falls from her chest.

The male brunette is shocked at seeing Jason. The naked man uses the sheet to hide his lower body. Jason thinks this guy is a fucking tool. He’s shaking badly, and he’s sputtering like an idiot.

“Oh, oh God! This is Jason? You’re with fucking Red Hood? Oh, my God...OH, MY GOD! This guy is gonna kill me, Dani! He-he has a fucking gun in his hand! I’m gonna fucking die!” the man cries out.

“SHUT YOUR GODDAMN FUCKING MOUTH, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” Jason yells from underneath his helmet. The voice changer that’s built into his helmet makes him sound more dark...even demonic. But Jason could care less about anything and everything right now. All he can think about is beating the shit out of this guy. “WHO THE FUCK IS THIS?!”

Danielle runs a hand through her messy long red hair, and sniffles. She’s actually...crying?

“This is Paul-”

“Don’t fucking tell him my name! Jesus Christ! Are you trying to get me killed?!”

Jason aims his gun and shoots near Paul’s head. The loud, piercing sound fills the room. The bullet hits the wall, but nonetheless scares the shit out of Paul.

Paul covers his eyes and cries. “Of fuck...please don’t kill me. Oh God, please don’t...”

Jason removes his helmet in anger and throws it down. His green eyes are already red-rimmed. He won’t admit he’s crying...God no...his allergies must be acting up.

“So, what the fuck, Dani? You’re seriously sleeping with someone else?” Jason asks, rhetorically of course. “In our house...underneath our covers...in our bed?!”

“Jason, please. I-I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Dani says.

“But you wanted me to find out?” Jason snaps, suddenly moves closer to the bed. Paul moves backwards away from him. “You wanted me to find out, but just not this way? JESUS CHRIST, DANI! What the fuck were you thinking?! Why the hell would you do this to me, after everything we’ve fucking been through!”

“Because you weren’t here! You weren’t here tonight!” Dani yells.

“What the hell does that mean? You decided to cheat on me because I WASN’T HERE TONIGHT?!”

Paul slowly stands up with the sheet. “Maybe I should leave...” he mumbles.

“How about I show you the way out, BUDDY?!” Jason spits out. He grabs Paul’s throat and drags him across the bedroom.

“DON’T HURT HIM! PLEASE DON’T HURT HIM, JASON!” Dani cries out.

Jason was seeing red. He couldn’t see or think straight at all. With a huff, Jason slams Paul down to the floor and drops down to beat the fucking shit out of Paul. His fist keeps coming down hard and fast, and he definitely ignores Paul crying, pleading for him to stop. Jason even ignores the sight of a lot of blood and bones cracking underneath his punches.

“STOP IT! JASON, STOP HURTING HIM, PLEASE!” Dani screams in horror, pulling Jason back by grabbing his leather jacket.

When Jason finally stops, he realizes Paul’s face is almost disfigured because of the blood and swelling, but he doesn’t care. At all.

Jason shoves Dani away from him and glares down at Paul. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Paul. You’re not going to open your fucking mouth. You’re not going to tell anyone about my home. You’re not going to tell anyone about me. Your injuries? You’re going to tell everyone you got your pansy, white ass jumped in an alley and that you obviously lost the fight. And you’re going to walk out of here naked. You’re not going to look at Dani, not talk to her, not even think about her, you’re just going leave. NOW.”

“B-but what about my-my clothes?” Paul stutters.

Jason quickly collects all of Paul’s clothes and opens his bedroom window. He pulls out his lighter and lights the clothes on fire. Jason drops them over the railing. “You don’t need them. After fucking my girlfriend in my home and in my bed, you bet your homewrecking sweet ass that you’ll be walking home in nothing but shame and remorse. Now, get the fuck out of my house before I break your legs next.”

“Yes sir. I’m sorry, sir. No one will ever know about this,” Paul rambles on as he struggles to stand up. Once he does, he quickly leaves the bedroom but not before mumbling. “Why couldn’t she date Green Lantern or-or Batman. Wait! Not Batman! Anyone but Batman and Red Hood!”

As the front door slams shut, Jason turns to face his naked girlfriend, Dani. He feels his chest tighten, causing a pain he hasn’t felt since he was a kid and lost his mother and home. He wants to cry in front of her, maybe even scream at her, but all the anger he felt before is gone now. Jason’s only left with a sense of sadness and he doesn’t even know what to do about it.

The silence is killing them. He’s no fool. He can see she’s trying to hold herself together but is failing immensely because she’s looking up at him with those sad, puppy dog eyes.

But a thought quickly crosses his mind: only Y/N’s puppy dog eyes make him give into her. Every time. Y/N’s Y/C/E eyes weakens him, and he always wants to please her when she looks at him.

But Dani’s eyes don’t. There’s no sense of comfort and warmth in them like Y/N’s.

“I’m...I’m so sorry, Jay,” Dani begins.

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore,” Jason interrupts angrily. He doesn’t even know why she’s apologizing. He knows he can’t forgive her. He won’t forgive her.

Dani scoffs. “You can’t seriously be pissed off at me. You’ve fucking cheated before. You’ve slept around like Bruce does. You can’t fucking hold this against me! I gave you a chance!”

“You’re forgetting that I used to do that!” Jason yells. He runs a hand through his messy dark hair and growls under his breath. He needs someone to calm him down. He needs someone to tell him everything’s going to be all right. He needs the comfort and warmth only one person has: Y/N. Jason realizes he needs her now more than ever, and that scares him a bit. “I haven’t done any of that shit since we’ve been together. The second I realized that I was in love with you, I changed. I changed because I wanted to be with you! And you bringing up my past to try to justify your actions is fucking wrong, Dani.”

“Cry me a fucking river, Jason,” Dani spits out.

“Nope. Not this time. Get the fuck out of my house.”

Dani doesn’t put up a fight. She gets dressed, packs a bag of her things, and tells Jason she’ll be back for the rest later. She does glance at him one last time before she walks out though.

“The thing is...I needed my boyfriend, not a hero.”

The door slams shut, leaving Jason frozen in place. The silence is deadly; he can feel his thoughts racing and screaming loud in his head.

He needs Y/N.

Jason needs his best friend.

Tears force themselves out his eyes as he calls Y/N.

“Hello?”

Jason pauses, and he wonders if he’s making a mistake. Maybe she won’t come. He hasn’t been a particularly good friend to her lately. “Y/N, I need you. I...need you, please...”

“I’m on my way.”

Jason knew he was in deep shit after he finished off a new bottle of whiskey before Y/N came over. He couldn’t help himself. After he hanged up with her, he ripped off his costume and stripped down to nothing but his white Calvin Klein boxer briefs. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, even after lowering the thermostat to 62 degrees.

Perhaps the end of his real first serious relationship was suffocating him mentally and physically. He’s never lived with a girlfriend before either.

He was about to open a new bottle of whiskey just as the front door opens and closes.

“Jason?” Y/N calls out.

Jason whips around fast and grins. He’s buzzed, but not quite drunk yet. “Y/N!”

Y/N is stunned to see Jason in nothing but his underwear as he runs to her and embraces her hard. She stumbles back a bit, but he captures her easily to steady her and holds her tightly to his chest.

“You’re soaked...and cold,”

“It’s raining outside like it always does,” Y/N giggles and gently pushes Jason back a bit. “Let me take off my coat and get warmed up.”

Jason allows her, watches intently when Y/N takes off her raincoat. She’s wearing her black and red plaid pajama pants and a Metallica t-shirt he’s positive she stole from him. She kicks off her booties and displays her light blue fuzzy socks he adores.

Jason knew Y/N had to have been in bed when he called, but she came anyway. She always comes to him because she’s always there for him.

She’s always been here for me, hasn’t she? Why haven’t I seen it before? He thinks to himself.

Y/N smiles softly and reaches a hand out to Jason. He takes it, almost hypnotized by how he does anything she wants. She leads them to the couch, but not before she sees the pizza box and DVD on the entryway table. She raises an eyebrow at him.

“That...was my failed attempt at romance tonight,” Jason admits sheepishly.

Y/N shakes her head, but still smiles. “It doesn’t have to go to waste. We can eat the pizza and watch the movie, right? I mean...only if you want to, of course,” she says.

“Only with you, sweetheart.”

Y/N releases his hand and quickly grabs the pizza and movie. She meets him in the living room where Jason’s already sitting down. She smiles and puts the DVD on. But before she sits beside him, she heads over to the kitchen. She returns with two cans of soda and napkins.

Jason looks down when her soft, small hand reaches out to him...only to take away the unopened bottle of whiskey. “No more tonight...please.”

He can’t help but nod his head. She’s right, he’s had enough to drink. He can’t numb his feelings and thoughts anymore. That’s why when Jason starts crying, he doesn’t feel embarrassment or anything. Y/N’s seen him at his best and worst; and she’s still here no matter what.

The movie is playing, but they’re not watching it. Jason can’t even hear it. When he looks up to see why, he can only see Y/N looking at him.

She doesn’t ask why he’s crying. Jason knows Y/N’s caring nature is all about comfort and understanding. That’s why he doesn’t move or say anything when she scoots closer to hug him. The second she wraps her arms around his neck, he cries freely. He embraces her; allows her scent of cinnamon and sandalwood calm him down.

Jesus Christ...has she always smelled so good? Fuck...this perfume is making me hard right now. Jason shamelessly thinks to himself.

“It’s okay, Jay. What you’re feeling right now, it’s not forever. You won’t feel like this again anytime soon. I promise,” Y/N whispers. She runs her hand through his hair. “I’ll always be here for you. Always and forever.”

Jason opens his eyes and pulls back to see Y/N. Clarity finally hits him. His heart beats faster when he looks down to her soft lips and back up to those puppy dog eyes, that he loves so much. She looks back at him with the same intensity, he wonders if she recognizes what he’s just realized.

“You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?” Jason whispers.

Y/N smiles as she runs both her hands up and down Jason’s chest. “It took you long enough to see it,” she answers.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” he says, nodding his head in agreement.

“No, no you just made a mistake and now you’re going to give me what we both deserve,” Y/N says softly.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jason finally kisses Y/N. He wanted to slam his lips against hers, but he knew she deserved better than that. He takes his time and allows their mouths to move together, so they can really feel each other. But the second Y/N opens her mouth for more, Jason can’t say no and deny her that.

He tastes her as thoroughly as he can, but he wants more. He pulls away and asks her with his eyes. When she nods her head, he gently pushes her back onto the couch and climbs on top of her so their pelvis’ touch appropriately.

“I would take you to my bed, but I have to burn it because it’s seriously fucked up, doll,” Jason says in between his kisses. “Another man’s cum is stained all over my blankets...in case that’s not clear enough, Dani cheated on me.”

Y/N caresses Jason’s cheek and gently smiles at him. He was expecting her to cuss about Dani or get uncomfortable about talking about what happened, but Y/N did neither of those things. Her eyes said it all.

“It’s okay,” Y/N whispers. She leans up a bit to kiss him. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jason closes his eyes and sighs. Y/N was here, and she’s not going anywhere. And that’s all his heart needs to move forward.

When he opens his eyes, Y/N sits up a bit to take off her t-shirt. She’s braless. Jason’s sharp intake of breath is evident when he can’t take his emerald, green eyes off her perfect tits. Jason helps her remove her pajama pants, along with her panties and socks.

His cock is painfully hard in his underwear. Seeing Y/N’s naked body underneath his is giving him all sorts of naughty ideas, but he knows what he really needs right now.

Y/N knows, too. She bites her bottom lip and pushes down Jason’s underwear, revealing his hard cock. She briefly takes in how thick his dick is and how delicious the precum is smeared across the head.

“I promise I’ll take my time learning what you taste like and what makes you cum. I just...I just need to feel...” Jason struggles out, but when Y/N touches his chest, he inhales deeply. “I need to feel warm. I need to feel...you.”

Y/N nods and looks deep into Jason’s eyes. “Feel me, Jay. I want you to feel all of me.”

Jason bravely pushes his cock inside Y/N’s pussy. He closes his eyes and breathes hard. She was everything he was hoping for. He loved the way her walls were tight, warm, and wet. He lowers his forehead to hers and he bathes in the way she moans. Jason pulls back a bit to look down at her; he smiles at the way she bites her bottom lip and throws her head back.

“Fuck...Jay move, please,” Y/N moans.

He’s more than thrilled to do her request, especially when she moans out his nickname only she can call him.

Jason moves his hips. His cock shifts in and out of her steadily before he thrusts deeper. Y/N wraps her arms around him and meets his thrusts so his cock can hit her g-spot. Jason was proud at that moment for having a cock shaped well enough to hit Y/N’s g-spot; he desperately wants to make her cum so hard.

“Oh, fuck...you feel so good, princess. Do you like taking my cock like this?” Jason moans out.

Y/N moans and wraps her legs around Jason’s waist. “Y-yes! Your cock is so big. Please go harder. I-I want to cum!” Y/N cries out.

“Fuck yeah, I’ll fuck you harder! I want you to cum with me! I want to feel you cum on this big cock!” he’s panting, he’s giving her everything she wants.

Jason fucks her harder, slams his hips against Y/N’s body. He’s already on the verge of cumming, but he can’t help it. Y/N’s moans are affecting him. Her tight heat is hitting him harder than ever. He knows this’ll be over any second, but he promised her he’ll take his time when they do it again...maybe for round two tonight.

He lowers a hand to rub her engorged clit as he thrusts faster. He’s so close. He’s so close to a hot release and he wants her to cum with him.

“Cum with me, princess. I want to feel you cum so hard,” Jason pants out, his thrusts are crazy and uneven.

Y/N raises her hips so Jason thrusts five times to make her orgasm. She cries out his name. She cums hard and all over his cock. Her walls tighten around him, and she’s sure her body goes into shock. When Y/N looks up with lustful, hazy eyes, she sees Jason’s face contorted in amazement at her.

More than satisfied, Y/N pinches her own nipples and bites her bottom lip. She wants Jason to cum now.

“Cum in me, Jay. Fill me up with your hot, delicious cum. Mmm...I can’t wait to taste it. I want to suck your big, hard cock next,” Y/N says seductively.

Jason’s face adorably scrunches up as his release hits him. He thrusts a few more times, cumming hard like she did, spurting every drop of his cum inside her. His moans drive her wild. He breathes heavily and continues to ride out his orgasm until he has nothing left to spill inside.

He pulls out and drops beside her, but quickly holds her so she doesn’t fall off the couch.

Because just imagine getting a concussion after having an orgasm.

Y/N hums in the afterglow of sex with Jason. She rests her head on his chest as he rubs her back. He kisses her forehead softly. He feels more than okay now but knows there will be plenty to talk about after the sexy haze fades.

Thoughts of living in the countryside flash into his mind. Watching that sunrise, with Y/N’s in his arms, and she’s carrying their child in her womb.

That perfect life appears real now. His dream doesn’t seem impossible to achieve. With Y/N there, everything seems possible.

“Are you okay now?” Y/N asks softly.

Jason grins and looks down at her. He doesn’t quite know what to say but figures he should try.

“With you in my arms, I’m fucking perfect, princess.”

#dc comics #batman #red hood #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x y/n smut

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

always hate me

pairing: endings, beginnings! frank x reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, sex, drugs, cheating, creative liberties with endings, beginnings plot, time jumps, angst

based off “always hate me” by james blunt and “we don’t belong together” from sunday in the park with george

I never meant to hurt you, it’s just something I do, I guess it’s not a good excuse. And she will always hate me, no matter what I say and there is no mistaking the love is gone.

- Y/N! - Frank rushed out of his loft, trousers still not completely buttoned as he rushed after his friend. For someone wearing skinny heels, she sure seemed to walk fast enough, or at least faster than he could manage to run. - Y/N, wait up! C’mon!

- I cannot believe you. - she stopped, turning around to look at him yet still maintaining quite a distance from him as if they were standing on a frozen lake with a ridge between them. Her eyebrows were furrowed, regularly calm and soft eyes wide open with trembling lips as she tried to hold in the tears that wanted to escape out of anger. - I cannot believe you did this to Jack. You’re fucking disgusting, Frank!

- Y/N, c’mon. Let me explain. - she gave him no time to recover as she started to walk again away from her, heels clicking away at the run down asphalt. She was disgusted at him, mad even.

Frank had always been a wild card, ever since they had meet back in university and Y/N had learned to accept it. He could do some bad things but they never harmed anyone, Y/N always believed he couldn’t harm anyone or at least do something with the intention of harm anyone but here she was. The last thing she had expected to see once she came into Frank’s loft to drop Jack’s new manuscript was him with his face between Jack’s new girlfriend, Daphne. After all, it seemed like Frank was indeed capable of hurting someone and suddenly all the apologies, all the protection she had gave him looked hypocritical and she felt like the stupidest girl alive. With that in mind, the last thing she wanted to hear were Frank’s apologies and explaining of why he was sleeping around with Daphne.

- Y/N! - Frank managed to catch up to her, grabbing her forearm before she could walk away once more. - Y/N, stop. Let me explain, okay?

- What is there to explain, Frank? I found your with your face between Jack’s girlfriend’s legs, the same girlfriend he told us he’s in love with. - she sighed, hitting his chest. - Are you in love with her, Frank?

- Y/N, listen ...

- Are you in love with her, Frank? - she punctuated every single word, not allowing him to say another word. If he spoke, she would give him and allow him to gaslight her even more. The man, however, merely stared at the ground, almost feeling the burning sensation of her eyes on him. - Answer me!

- No, I’m not. - the words came as a cold hurting truth.

- You’re sickening. You are so fucking sickening.

- You promised me you would be my side through good and bad, this is bad, Y/N, this is bad, this is the worse I can do. Now what, are you just gonna quit being my friend? - he pointed at her, hurt at her words.

- I never thought the worse thing you could do would be to Jack. - she shook her arm out of his grip. - Goodbye, Frank.

- Y/N, wait up. C’mon, you’re getting all fired up for no reason, I met her first.

- What is this? Fucking kindergarten? You’ve never loved or been interested in a woman other than to fuck her and when Jack finally fucking finds someone who he’s instantly interested and in love with, you ruin it. - she pointed her finger accusingly at him. - Oh and you better tell Jack about it or I will.

With the threat left in the air she entered her car, locking the door as Frank called her name once again. This time Y/N wasn’t gonna be soft, no, she was angry, she was angry at him. Heartbroken even as she thought of all the times she had covered from him, how she had lied to the people in her life and defended him to those close to her. She had done so much for him ever since they were stupid teenagers finally out and about in the world of adults and for what? For him to betray him like that just stung.

5 YEARS AGO

- Y/N, where are you going? It’s 5 AM. - William got up from his bed. finding his fiancée going through their dresser, getting dressed in a frenzy.

- I have to go for a few minutes. A friend needs help. - she pushed some yoga pants in, pushing her hair out of the way to try and look presentable.

- You mean Frank needs your help. - Y/N shut her eyes forcefully, letting out a tired breathe as she turned to see her husband to be sat on his bed, all knowing look on his face. - Didn’t you do the same thing a few days ago?

- I know Will but he needs me. - her fiancé merely let out a sigh, climbing out of bed to walk up to her, a tightened expression on his complexion. - I’ll be back in just a few, I promise.

- It’s not that, darling. You’re always going off to help Frank and that was ok when we were kids in university but now? He’s not a kid anymore and he doesn’t need to have you constantly bail him out of sleazy bars when he’s high off his boat.

- He’s my friend, Will. - she raised her hand to cup his cheek but he merely pushed her hand away. - Not everyone matures at the same time.

- I can’t spend my life competing with Frank for my wife’s attention. Whenever he calls you drop everything to go meet him, you never tell him no and I don’t think you ever will.

- Will, c’mon, it’s just a few tim ... - before she could finish her sentence her phone rang again, Frank’s photo for the very first frat party the two had met lighting up the room. - We’ll have this discussion later.

- No, we won’t, Y/N. If you walk out that door, we’re done.

- What?

- You walk out that door and you might as well never return, Y/N. I will not compete with Frank over my wife’s attentions.

- You are being ridiculous! He’s my friend, I have to help him! - she gestured, her heart picking up a pace as the ring on her finger suddenly seemed to burn as if it no longer belonged there. As if she wasn’t worth it anymore. - Will, please.

- Just go, Y/N, I know you want to.

PRESENT DAY

Looking back, I guess I’m holding on to the good we had but I know that it’s wrong to ‘cause in the end she’s never gonna hold my heart. And now she knows, she doesn’t wanna know me, I’m not supposed to be the one who’s lonely. I never thought I drown in my shallow heart.

"Sorry, the number you have dialled isn’t available. Please leave a message after the tone” was the only thing to come out through his phone after what felt like hours and hours of being on hold. Two months. Two months ever since Y/N had spoken to him and Jack had pretty much thrown him aside after he told him about Daphne.

For hours, every single day of every single week of every month he would call her and try and get through but it never did. Despite countless messages left on voice mail, they never got a reply and every time he tried writing to her, it would return to him unopened. At this point, Frank was just waiting for her to say something. She always did, she never got mad at him for too long yet this time, this time he didn’t even see her around. He’d tried to get hold of her at her job only to be escorted out and he had even tried to get Jack to deliver a message yet between Jack and Y/N, he wasn’t sure which one hated him more. He was sure of what hurt him more and that was Y/N’s loss.

He missed her. He missed meeting her at the very old coffee shop where the waitress constantly complained about the kettle giving her electric shocks whenever she turned it on but what made her miss more was the season. Christmas. Christmas was always Y/N’s favourite and she would drag Frank down the streets to look at the lights and buy roaster salted and sweetened nuts in those little paper bags which always left a grease stain in the bottom and constantly broke loose.

He sighed, dropping his phone on the table as Jack made his way to the table. Jack had agreed to meet him, mostly due to Frank telling him he could punch him in the face but mostly because in the heat of the moment, he had never actually gotten to apologise to him.

- This better be quick. - the Irishman sat in front of him, a look of pure disdain on his face.

- How are you? - he didn’t know how to start or what to say so Frank guessed following rules of etiquette sounded the best.

- How do you think I am? All I keep thinking is I could’ve stopped, I could’ve dropped you when you fucked up the first time but no, I kept you around and for what? For you to sleep with my girlfriend?!

- I ... I didn’t know it was that serious and we had slept together before you two ev ...

- Oh fucking save it, Frank. - he rolled his eyes. - At least admit you fucked up. You never admit your wrong doings and to be honest I don’t know what I was expecting from this, you never admit to doing anything wrong. You didn’t admit to breaking Y/N’s engagement and you won’t admit any wrongdoing in sleeping with Daphne.

- Don’t fucking say I broke her engagement. - his pupils dilated as he rose up from his seat, hands gripping the table so hard his knuckles turned white. - I would have never done that to her!

- You fucking did! You destroyed her engagement just so she could pick your high off drunk ass from the curb and you refuse to admit it just like you refuse to admit you screwed me over. No matter how many times you tell yourself you didn’t do it, you still did it. - Jack, on the other hand, was calm, merely drinking from his pint as if the man in front of him was as calm as him. - Why did you do it? Why did you sleep with Daphne after you knew we were seeing each other? I don’t fucking care if you had slept with her before we started going out but you still did it after you knew we were dating.

- You know what you did.

- What I did? Frank I’ve spent the last years cleaning up after you and being supportive to you. Why did you do it? Be honest for the first time in your life, man up.

- You told Y/N to go on a date with William. - the words came out coated in shame. Sometimes you forget how small something can be until it spirals into spite and anger towards someone and that, that Frank could never ever forget. He could still hear it in the back of his mind, smell the scent of the room as he walked in at the wrong time to see his best friend tell her to accept William’s date offer. He still remember her wariness of it, questioning him if it was the right choice while Jack reassured her it would only be of good to her. - You told her to go out with William after I told you I was in love with her.

- Is this about Y/N? After all this time?

- You were supposed to be my friend and you told the woman I loved to go and date another man. You went behind my back.

- Oh please, Frank you’re delusional. You weren’t in love with her, you just wanted to sleep with her and you’re mistaking that for affection.

- Do you know how fucking painful it was when she got that fucking cheap ring on her finger? To know it was because you told her to go on a date with him?

- Did you actually slept with my girlfriend because I told Y/N to go on a date 7 years ago? How childish are you? You wanna know why I told Y/N to go on a date with William? Because you were not and you will never be ready to be in a relationship. You’ve never cared about anyone but yourself and you certainly never cared about Y/N.

The truth hurts. Truth has always been hurtful even if one seeks it but when one isn’t looking for truth, it just ... hurts. In this case, it particularly made Frank go back to that night 5 years ago. He didn’t remember it much, he was too drunk and in all honesty too high to remember it but flashes came back to him. The blue Fiat 500 Y/N still drove to this day parking in front of him, opening the door and finding her sat in the driver’s seat, tear stained cheeks, hands furiously gripping the wheel as if it stopped her from crying and ringless finger. He remembered asking if she was okay and her turning to face him, forced smile on her lips before she said yes. He should’ve asked more. Y/N was not one to easily open, a scar of past relationships which was already there when they met so he never forced her to do so despite her screaming silently for help. She was always there, somehow smiling and saying she was okay.

He never not asked anything of her. Since his very first year of university she was there but he couldn’t honestly find five moments where he had been there for her. After she had taken Jack’s advice, he almost secretly resented her for not seeing his affections but now, now it just looked clear why she hadn’t seen them. He hadn’t shown it to her. He hadn’t called every night to ask how her day was, he hadn’t brought her flowers during Valentine’s day when no one cared to do so, he hadn’t told her he loved her. That’s where it laid. William, despite his own narcissistic manner, was very much ready to shower her in affection. Maybe William wasn’t good for her but Frank definitely wasn’t too.

He left the table without much word to Jack, getting in his car and driving room, memories haunting him. Jack wasn’t fully right, Frank cared about Y/N but until now he had cared more about himself than her. Survival’s instinct, think about yourself first not to get hurt yet here he was.

In other situations, Frank would’ve just driven all night, probably found a bar and a beautiful lady to forget that although Jack wasn’t 100% right, he was right in believing Frank didn’t deserve Y/N. In all honesty, nobody did. She was too good in a world that punished kindness more than evil.

Someone once had told him that nothing good happened 2 AM, that if you’re up past 2 AM to just go to sleep and as 1:59 flashed on his phone, Frank decided that, for the very first time in his life, he was gonna go home. Nothing good was gonna happen now and as he stepped inside his house, he started doubting it. In front of him was the same girl who now hated him, holding a box, both of them seemingly not expecting each other.

- I ... I came to pick some of my stuff. Jack said he was meeting you. - ever the calculative and smart woman, she started the conversation while walking towards the door.

- I’m sorry. - he blurted out, years and years of regret weighting his words. She stopped in her step, almost unsure of what he had said, turning around to stare at him as if he had said the weirdest thing. - I’m so sorry for fucking up, for sleeping with Jack’s girlfriend, for breaking your engagement, for not being the friend you were to me. I’m sorry and I know I screwed up and never actually apologising for it.

- You didn’t break up my engagement, Frank. You’re not that good at screwing up my life.

- Jack told me, Y/N. You don’t need to spare me.

- I’m not sparing you, I’m telling you the truth. You didn’t break off my engagement, I did. I realised that if I’d rather be with you and reply to all your calls than being with my fiancé, it was not gonna be a very happy marriage. What hurts is that I believed you were actually redeemable and that it was a phase but it’s been years and you’re still a teenager.

- I know, Y/N. Trust me, I know and I don’t have anything to tell you other than I’m sorry.

- Why did you do it, Frank? You’re not in love with her, you didn’t go with her once Jack broke up with her. Why did you do it? Why would you destroy someone’s relationship? For what lust? I’m pretty sure you can get every single woman you set your eyes in.

- Childish reasons. - he had no right in telling her that he loved her. Frank had no place in confessing his feelings, at least not now, not as the person he was. She, however, took no pity in his answer. - I know you need your time.

- No, Frank. No, I’m done with your terrible excuses so please tell me the the truth. Tell me why did you sleep with Daphne. - she was almost begging, trying to have some faith int he man she always believed to be somehow redeemable but yet again Y/N always expected him to somehow get better. He never did.

- It was Jack who told you to go out with William, wasn’t he?

- What does that have to do with anything?

- I was in love with you and he knew it, he fucking knew it. I know I should’ve told you but I cannot divide my feelings up as neatly as you, and I know I should’ve ... I don’t know what else to tell you or what I should’ve said when you told me you were going out with William.

- You could’ve told me not to go. You could’ve told me you were hurt, relieved, bored ... anything. You could’ve told me, you could’ve told me what you felt back then and you didn’t. You always hide behind this smooth facade and I’m ...

- Would you have cared back then? If I had told you anything? There was nothing to say so I didn’t tell you. You wouldn’t accept the mess I was, what I did which you always knew which I thought you were a part of.

- No, you are complete, Frank. You are complete, Frank, you all alone but I’m left unfinished and diminished with or without you. We do not belong together and we’ll never belong together. What would made it so right together would just made it all wrong. We do not belong together and we will never belong together.

- I know but if ... if you could just ... just find it somewhere to forgive me. I will apologise to Jack how many times you want, I’ll go celibate.

- There’s nothing you can do, Frank. I’m done. - she opened his front door leaving him in his living room alone with his thoughts and the sound of the door closing harshly

She said “you lost me baby”, no matter what I say the love is gone ...

everything taglist: @connie326 @lookiamtrying

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x Y/N #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #eb!frank #eb!frank x reader imagine #sebastian stan drabble

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sohotthateveryonedied · 4 years

Text

Always By Your Side

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

The kid looks horrible, full offense. Tim is wearing one of Dick’s old Hudson University sweatshirts which just about swallows him, hanging a full inch over where his fingertips end. His hair is tied up in the messiest bun Jason has ever seen, and there’s a purple welt on his chin big enough that a helicopter could use it for a landing pad. His lip is swollen, blood still crusted over where Tim’s teeth must have torn it open on impact. Big yikes.

“If you’re here to raid my fridge, then you already know it’s bad pickings. I haven’t been shopping in weeks.”

“That’s not why I’m here, actually.” Not the only reason, at least. Multitasking is key when you’re a semi-contract killer who needs Sundays free for tea time with Alfred.

(Disclaimer: THIS IS THE ONLY BAD PARENT!BRUCE FIC I WILL EVER WRITE OKAY I SWEAR I ALWAYS AVOID THOSE KINDS OF FICS BUT I’M SALTY THAT THEY NEVER ADDRESSED BRUCE PUNCHING TIM IN COMICS SO I HAD TO DO IT MYSELF.)

It doesn’t take long to break into Tim’s apartment. Record time, actually. In less than ten minutes Jason is sliding up the window to Tim’s kitchen and climbing over the sill, easy peasy. He should really talk to the replacement about his lack of security against fellow batkids. “Timbo?” he calls, closing the window and re-locking it. “You here?” He’d better have the right place. It’s so hard keeping track of everyone’s safehouses these days, and Jason is not eager for a repeat of what happened the last time he got it wrong. That old lady looked scared to death when Jason crawled in through the air duct, covered in blood that was only thirty percent his own. (The lady was super understanding when he explained the situation. She even fixed up his stab wound with her sewing kit and made him some freshly squeezed lemonade. Jason drops by every couple of weeks to check in on her and her cats.) But Tim is the priority now. “Come out, come out, you little shit.” Jason crosses the kitchen toward the living room, then stops and backtracks. He opens the fridge for a beer, momentarily forgetting that the kid is a hopeless health nut. Jason resigns himself to a package of deli ham only two days past the expiration date. It smells fine, so it must be safe to eat, right? Of all Tim’s apartments, this one is by and far the nicest, barring the expired deli meats and un-Jason-proof security system. The living room is pristine with white sofas and a glass coffee table, making the whole setup vibe more like a hotel suite than an actual home. Definitely not Jason-proof. He sits right in the middle of the fancy sofa, kicking off his boots. “If you get mud on my carpet, you’re cleaning it up.”

Jason looks up at Tim in the doorway and grins. “Don’t I always?” The kid looks horrible, full offense. Tim is wearing one of Dick’s old Hudson University sweatshirts which just about swallows him, hanging a full inch over where his fingertips end. His hair is tied up in the messiest bun Jason has ever seen, and there’s a purple welt on his chin big enough that a helicopter could use it for a landing pad. His lip is swollen, blood still crusted over where Tim’s teeth must have torn it open on impact. Big yikes. “If you’re here to raid my fridge, then you already know it’s bad pickings. I haven’t been shopping in weeks.” “That’s not why I’m here, actually.” Not the only reason, at least. Multitasking is key when you’re a contract killer who needs Sundays free for tea time with Alfred. “Just leave whatever data you have here and I’ll look it over in the morning.” “Again, not why I’m here.” “Then can you just tell me whatever it is so I can go back to bed?” It’s five in the afternoon. “Well, jeez, kid. You don’t have to rush me out the door.” Tim’s eyes flit to the ground and stay there, giving the impression of a puppy put in his place. “Sorry.” Jason eyes Tim carefully. He takes in the timid stance, the way Tim wrings and twists the sleeve of his sweatshirt until it’s stretched beyond saving. He clearly hasn’t showered or even bothered tending to his face, like keeping the wound fresh is his way of punishing himself. “You doing okay?” “Fine, why?” “Because you look like shit, that’s why.” “It’s been a hectic few days. I’ve been meaning to crash for hours.” “How about that bruise you got there? Looks nasty.” Tim touches the bruise as if he forgot it was there, biting back a wince. “It’s fine. I got it on patrol and haven’t gotten around to icing it yet.” “Must have been a big guy to do that kind of damage.” Tim’s eyes narrow. Jason eats his ham, a picture of innocence. “If you’re trying to get me to circle around and ask you about your problems, then I’m sorry, but I’m really not in the mood to play therapist tonight. You can stay here as long as you want, but I’m going to bed.” He turns and starts toward his bedroom. “You’re really not going to tell me who gave you that bruise?” Tim stops, a shudder running down his spine. He doesn’t turn, not yet. “Did Barbara tell you?” “I can’t believe you didn’t. What, did you think this would all go away if you just kept quiet about it?” “There’s nothing to talk about. Nothing happened.” “My ass nothing happened. Bruce hit you last night. He hit you over nothing.” Tim whirls around, fists clenched. “So? I get hit all the time. Am I supposed to have a breakdown every time someone punches me?” “Getting hit by a criminal and getting hit by your dad are not the same thing, and you know it.” “I’m a big boy, Jason. I can handle it.” Jason leans forward, forgetting all about his rancid ham. “You realize how fucked up this is, right?” “Oh, give me a break—” “Hey. The adult is talking now. Our father nearly shattered your jaw a few hours ago and here you are, hiding from him like it was your fault.” Not that Jason blames him for not wanting to be near the manor after what happened; he wouldn’t either if he were in Tim’s place. Hell, he was in Tim’s place. “You weren’t there, Jay. You have no idea what happened.” “Oh, yeah? Enlighten me, then. What gives that asshole the right to put his hands on you?” “The fact that I shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place! Bruce was dealing with enough as it was without me making it worse.” “Only if you call trying to help someone ‘making things worse.’ From what Babs told me, you didn’t do Jack shit to deserve what he did.” “I don’t care what Barbara told you. I was there, I know what I did wrong, and I’ve accepted that.” “Except you did nothing wrong.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Tim’s voice is raised, his eyes narrowed. “You didn’t see how upset Bruce was. He wasn’t himself. I should have seen that and backed off, but I didn’t. He was hurting and angry, and...I provoked him. It was my own fault.” “Do you have any idea how insane you sound? You tried to help him, and he punched you in the face for it. I know you’ve dealt with this exact situation a million times, you know the protocol.” Tim rolls his eyes. “This is completely different.” “Why? Because you’re not a minor? Because Bruce isn’t your father? Or maybe because you threw the first punch? Oh, wait. None of those are fucking true.” “What do you want from me? Do you want me to start crying, call up child services and tell them that my adoptive father gave me a little bruise because I was being insubordinate while we were all dressed as vigilantes? Will that magically ease your conscience?” “I want you to stop fucking covering for him,” Jason says. “You know that there’s no excuse for a parent hurting their child.” “I’m not a child!” “Sorry to break it to you, pal, but you fucking are! And Bruce? He’s your father. It doesn’t matter if you’re twelve or seventeen or thirty—his job is to be a fucking parent to you. And instead he punched you so hard Babs said you were unconscious for a good thirty seconds.” Tim crosses his arms and leans on the wall. He doesn’t try to come closer or sit on any of the furniture, keeping his distance from Jason. “You’re blowing this way out of proportion. Maybe those rules apply to normal people, but we’re different. Violence and anger, that’s how this family communicates. Hell, Bruce and I spar all the time and you’ve never lectured me about it being abuse until now.” Jason runs a hand over his face, thoroughly done with this shit. “I can’t believe you’re still trying to rationalize this.” “Because it’s a rational thing!” “Is it?” “Yes.” “Would you ever hit him?” “It wouldn’t be the first time.” “No, I’m not talking sparring or some stupid teenage angst-fueled outburst. I’m asking if you, Tim Drake, would ever intentionally hurt Bruce in a way that would do damage. Even if he did something shitty to deserve it. Would you hurt him?” Tim hesitates. He bites his swollen lip. “I might. If I were really angry.” “We both know that’s bullshit. The guy’s got a hundred pounds on you and your hand would probably shatter if you tried to sock him in the face, but you still wouldn’t hurt him.” “So?” “So, he knows you’re a twig and he beat the shit out of you anyway. That’s not fucking okay.” “It wasn’t on purpose,” Tim says, but he’s losing momentum by the second. He looks years too tired for this conversation as it is. “It was...instinct. A spur-of-the-moment reaction. It’s not—I mean, he’s Bruce. He would never hurt us intentionally.” “He already did.” “And I’m perfectly fine. It’s not like he punched Damian or Cass, just me. He knew I could take it, and he was right. I’m fine. This bruise will heal up in a couple days, and then we can all forget it ever happened.” “I won’t.” “Why not? Why are you being so goddamn uptight about this? It has nothing to do with you, anyway.” Jason can feel his eyes smolder Lazarus green as he surges forward and hisses, “It has everything to do with me.” Tim flinches. It’s not major, barely even counts as a real flinch, but it happens. Tim flinches away from Jason, and the anger dissipates as quickly as it came. Jesus, what did Bruce do to this kid? Jason sits back, takes a breath, tries to make his voice gentler. “Bruce hurt me too, okay?” Tim’s expression doesn’t change but for a twinge of his eyebrows. “It was a misunderstanding, but...he hurt me. Badly. I was out of commission for two fucking months. Probably would have died if it hadn’t been for Roy.” That gets a reaction. Tim’s mouth drops open and he flounders for a moment, like he can’t put the two things together. Bruce attacking Jason? No results. Does not compute. “What—why would he do that?” “It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that, as irritating as you are, you don’t deserve to be treated like that.” Like he has any right to be saying this. Tim still has the scar on his neck from when Jason’s brains were made of gruel. “Not by a parent. Not by someone you’re supposed to trust. So this is me looking out for you, alright?” Jason reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out a crumpled paper. “I know you’ve got your own setup for when you need time away from the manor, but these are all of my addresses and phone numbers. If something like this happens again, I want you to call me.” Tim takes the paper but protests, “It’s okay, really. I don’t need—” “Yeah, yeah, you don’t need to be coddled. I get it. But keep it anyway. And if you start feeling unsafe at the manor, you call me and I’ll take care of it. I already gave Damian, Cass, and Duke copies too. Just...look out for yourself, alright? All of you. Look out for each other.” Tim folds up the paper and slips it into his back pocket. “What about you?” “The old man and I are…” That’s a whole other can of worms Jason really isn’t in the mood to unpack right now. “It’s still rocky between us. I’m keeping my distance. But for you guys, I don’t care. If one of you needs help, I’ll be there. Got it?” Tim blinks, and lucky for him, Jason is courteous enough not to make fun of the tears he is clearly holding back. “Thanks, Jay.”

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ethelphantom · 4 years

Text

Into the... Wait, we’re all what now?

As it turns out, I’m horrible at keeping things as one-shots, so now you’re getting a continuation of the fic in which Mari falls into the DC verse. Using Maribat March is definitely a wonderful way to continue these things. Also, yes, this means you can ask to be tagged to the story from now on. There is at least one more thing to write about this if not more.

Ao3 || first part

This is Maribat -- don’t like; don’t read

______________________________

It was way too late to be up and awake but apparently, that was precisely what Marinette was anyway. Sighing, she pushed the covers aside, slipped on a pair of fluffy socks and made her way to the kitchen through the seemingly endless halls of the Wayne Manor.

As she got into the kitchen, she checked the clock from the microwave oven. It was only 3.29 am. Damn it. She hated the fact she couldn’t sleep. She also hated the fact they hadn’t yet figured out a way back to her own world. The Amazons didn’t know anything about the miraculous — her own world was a cartoon in their world, it turned out, and she kind of knew her partner’s identity, as well as Papillon’s and Mayura’s identities, which, poor Chaton. Hopefully, the Parisians were doing fine without her there to capture and purify the Akuma —, though Wonder Woman had said she could still try to look further into it.

She was glad that Diana had promised to do that because Marinette really would have preferred to be home, especially since speaking English all the time got very tiring. There weren't many people she could speak French with, not really. Dick knew some French, Bruce could speak French, and Tim was able to hold up a simple conversation for a while, but it... It wasn't really enough.

It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy being with the Wayne family, no. She loved the family and kind of considered them her other family aside from her Maman and Papa. She’d even been officially adopted to the family in their world’s eyes so it wouldn’t confuse anyone as to why a random girl suddenly hung out with them without dating any of them. It had been Tim’s idea, Bruce had decided it was a good one, and then they’d asked Marinette if that was something she was okay with. She was. It wasn’t like her family was in this world or universe anyway, and it was nice to know she belonged somewhere. Besides, she fit the pattern — black hair, blue eyes. The only ones who didn't have both but had black hair anyway were Cass and Damian, really.

It was a little amusing that the only one who was actually related to Bruce looked like him the least if they ignored his facial structure.

Quietly, she tiptoed around the kitchen, having already given up on the idea of sleep at this point. She made night snacks for herself and poured herself a cup of coffee, sighing happily as she inhaled the bitter smell of it. The coffee was scalding hot as she took a sip — just how she liked it. The drink warmed her hands as she held the cup which was nice, seeing as the Manor was rather cold at night.

Marinette settled herself at the small table in the kitchen that was mostly meant for anyone who really, really didn’t want to eat with the rest of the family and opened her phone, meaning to go through her Tumblr feed and maybe watch Netflix. She'd even been ready to just start watching a new show when she was interrupted.

What caused the interruption was someone trying to get a mug out of the cupboard quietly and instead dropping one on the ground. Thank god it was the sole plastic mug in the entire manor, so nothing broke.

Marinette turned to look at the source of the voice and found Tim staring at the ground with what looked like grief in the dim light of her phone. She would’ve understood if there was coffee or if it had been Tim’s favourite mug (as that one could be broken — Jay had threatened to do it once or twice by now, actually), but no. Nothing was broken, nothing had spilt on the ground, nothing needed to be cleaned up.

So what was it?

When Marinette raised her eyebrow at Tim as he finally looked at her, Tim just sighed and shook his head. “‘S nothing, Nette, don’t worry ‘bout it,” he told her, crouching to pick up the mug. “Haven’t slept much, nothing more than that. I thought there had been coffee for a second.”

Marinette nodded, understanding what he was on about, and continued reading. It was only when Tim dropped down on the chair in front of her that she paid attention to him again. He had his laptop out and was frowning at his screen.

“A case?”

“Yeah. A series of murders, three robbed stores, riddles and a string of witnesses that refuse to say anything kind of scream multiple of our villains, and I’m not sure who to investigate first, or if it was a collective effort of theirs, or if someone is impersonating them and trying to frame all of them. None of them has claimed the crimes either, which is a little unusual and a lot disturbing,” he told her and turned the screen around for her to see. Indeed, there was a list of possible culprits and the chance of an unknown and the details of the crime.

“I can see why this is troubling you,” Marinette sighed and turned her eyes from the screen back to Tim again. “I cannot believe I’m suggesting this, but what if you slept and then looked at it again? I know you tend to try solving problems even in your dreams, so there’s that as well, but also your brain might want to brain better after sleeping.”

It took her a moment before she realised what she said, but when she did, she groaned and rubbed her hand on her face. “I can’t believe I just used a noun as a verb. Please kill me or knock me out so I could sleep.”

Tim just laughed at her. That asshole.

“What are you two doin’, drinkin’ coffee at this hour?”

Marinette jumped, startled that someone had managed to sneak up on them even in the silence of the night. She turned around to see the slightly glowing eyes of Jason and let out a sigh of relief, bringing a hand to her hear. “God, Jay, you scared me. A guy your size shouldn’t be allowed to move so quietly,” she whined and let her forehead hit the table. Jason only barely managed to snatch her cup away from her way so it wouldn’t fall down and that all her coffee wouldn’t end up on the floor.

She murmured her thanks into the table as Jason patted her head, laughing at her quietly. She would kick his ass in the morning for that. Maybe. After all, he had just saved her coffee.

This time, Marinette noticed when someone entered. She couldn’t bother to turn her head to look at them, though. They would make themselves known to the rest of them soon enough.

No, actually. There were two people. One of them had a very soft walk, barely audible, but now that Marinette was listening, she was able to find it. A hand touched her hair, gently pushing it away from her eyes and tucking it behind her ear. When Marinette looked up, just a little, she found the dark eyes of Cass staring at her. Marinette gave her a weak smile in return.

They don’t talk, not really. The time passed by as Cass just sat on the floor next to Marinette, Tim tried to solve his case, and Jason and Dick were talking (or fighting) about something in hushed voices again. None of the others, except for Cass, obviously, because she noticed everything, paid attention to the small frame that appeared in the doorway. Marinette did. She stood up, stretched and walked to Damian.

She didn’t touch him. She wasn’t sure if it was okay right now. Instead, she watched for any signs of what had happened, or reactions to anyone in the kitchen. Nothing. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Damian shook his head. “No. It was merely an unfortunately timed nightmare, I can survive.”

“I know you can. You’re strong like that. It just doesn’t mean you have to survive on your own, alone. It’s also a strength to recognise when you—,” Marinette yawned. She hadn’t slept in a too long time. “—When you need others for support.”

When Damian lingered in the doorway a little too long, his eyes going between the floor and Marinette. Marinette just opened her arms and let Damian walk into them before embracing him. “Do you want a hug? I can tell none of them you wanted a hug if that helps. We can also go to the living room if that sounds better?”

Damian nodded. Marinette shot Cass a text to drag the rest of them to the living room in about half an hour with pillows, blankets and mattresses. They all needed sleep, or at least rest, and maybe they could get that in a pillow fort?

The two of them went on ahead, and once they were there, Marinette sat on the couch and waited for Damian to come there with her. He, a little reluctantly and hesitating a lot, took careful steps towards her before he too was sitting on the couch and curling up against Marinette. She smiled and pulled him closer, securing them under a blanket.

Maybe he’d feel safer from the nightmares this way.

About half an hour later (though both Damian and Marinette had dosed off already), the rest of the family made their way to the living room, everything Marinette had asked from Cass with them. They built a pillow fort for them as quietly as possible, one of them always watching over Damian and Marinette so to make sure they didn’t wake up. Heavens knew both of them needed the sleep, and they didn’t want to try their luck and see if they would fall asleep again.

After it was done, Jason picked Marinette up in his arms as Dick carried Damian in his, and carefully laid them down on the mattresses before tucking both in. Tim and Cass curled up the closest to the two, Jason and Dick surrounding the smallest four of them the last. It was comfortable and much warmer than it usually was in the house, six bodies all huddled close.

Aside from how none of them knew how to not sprawl over everyone else, it was the most peaceful and well slept night any of them had had in years.

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@kris-pines04 @thethirdwheelfriend @maribat-is-lifeblood @abrx2002 @persephonebutkore @rebecarojas07 @corabeth11 @kadmeread @silverwhiteraven @marinettepotterandplagg @freshbark @maribat-march2020 @catsandfanfic @fertileleaf @eat0crow @cutechip

#Into the DC verse #Maribat #ml x dc #dc x mlb #dc #miraculous ladybug #ml #fanfic #fanfiction #ethel's writing

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lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean · 3 years

Text

La Pomme ~ Chapter Eight

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 3,900

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

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Collapsing into one of the comfier library chairs set between some stacks, George took a sip of the small glass of whiskey she figured she'd earned. She'd just scolded a fucking demon from hell. What was she thinking?! It had been pretty cool, but pissing off an evil, powerful being was maybe not the smartest. She could have gotten herself killed!

It had been unavoidable though; upon realizing that Demon Tim must have been the reason they suspected her of being involved in Jack's disappearance, she had been furious. Not only was it not true, it was insulting, humiliating, and just plain rude. It was also simply a bad plan. So, she took it upon herself to enlighten him and to correct his offensive insinuations. Hopefully, it wouldn't come back to bite her in the ass.

Her focus shifted then to Jack. Reflecting over her time there, there were things she remembered having happened on the show. The refugees in the bunker, AU Michael attacking, Jack losing his powers, Lucifer dude being just a regular human dude now; all of it was familiar, even when it terrified her (see: AU Michael attack). But, when they told her Jack was missing, she was thrown off at first. It wasn't something she remembered seeing on the show. Then again, she'd only just finished binging from season 10 to the end of 13 a couple weeks ago and hadn't started 14 yet. So, maybe she was past the point of being able to tell when things were part of their prescribed timeline or not? Therefore, even if Jack had been kidnapped on the show, she wouldn't have any info for them, right?

The problem was, the more she thought about it the more she began to believe she had seen something about this storyline. Jack being missing, the three of them going to save him-

Was it Ryan telling you about some episode where they rescued Jack in the redwoods? They had filmed it on location at some tourist spot you went to as a kid all the time and she thought you'd think it was cool… where was that?

She couldn't remember, and it frustrated her. She was also worried that she was making this all up just to be helpful.

Taking another sip, she allowed her thoughts to wander between episode scenes like an internal microfiche as she tried to nail down her recollection, No, I can definitely picture all four of them in the woods and fighting. Someone had kidnapped Jack, wanting his powers for something… was it the angels?

"Well, that was interesting," Dean stated, startling her out of her thoughts. The three of them were walking into the library a surprisingly short while after she left them with Tim.

Looking up at them, she set the glass down on a nearby shelf and stood up. Dean didn't elaborate further while he poured his own glass. The expressions each one wore were indiscernible and she grew nervous.

"Oh?" George raised a brow and looked between them, "Did he talk? Because you know, I've actually been sitting here thinking about this whole situation and something about Jack going missing is very familiar. Now, unfortunately, I am a few seasons behind, and-""

Dean took a sip, looking at her with curious amusement, and interrupted, "I was talking about you."

George looked surprised and then grimaced, "No, no. I'm not interesting, not at all. I'm the exact opposite of interesting. I'm-I'm… I'm…"

"Uninteresting?" Castiel offered helpfully as she struggled to find the words. Sam and Dean rolled their eyes in unison.

"Right! Thank you, Castiel. I'm highly uninteresting." She gulped a bit and wrung her hands as the three of them kept watching her. In the silence, she nervously looked in Castiels direction and blurted quickly, "I'm also George! Hi! Really nice to meet you! Big fan!"

"Nice to meet you," Castiel smiled awkwardly and nodded a greeting, looking at the other two with a confused expression, "...fan of what?"

"Right, positively boring," Sam interjected sarcastically before he could stop himself. He definitely thought she was interesting. First she's just a beautiful woman, then she's a beautiful woman he may or may not have had a life altering dream about ten years ago, and now she was a beautiful woman from an alternate reality where his life was a prime time television show… who he may or may not have had a life altering dream about ten years ago. 'Uninteresting' was definitely not an adjective he'd use for her.

Dean snorted, "Yea, boring is the last word I would use to describe that scene earlier. You caused Tim to sing like a canary, by the way."

Her jaw dropped in disbelief, "Say what?"

"I almost say we hire her to be our monster torture hypeman," He joked, looking at Sam with a raised eyebrow.

Sam ignored him and addressed Geroge's question, "After you left, Tim-"

"Cleetus," Dean interjected sarcastically.

"Cleetus… well, he sort of... started crying? He said he'd tell us everything we wanted to know if we promised to keep you away from him." Sam looked strangely apologetic and she let a few nervous chuckles escape, unsure whether to believe what they were saying.

"We think you hurt his feelings," Castiel explained further. "Which fortunately seemed to motivate him to talk, so thank you."

"I guess his demon mommy didn't teach him about sticks and stones," Dean cracked, taking another swig.

"Huh. OK. Neat!" George didn't know what to say; she was confused and strangely proud of herself. But she didn't want them to think she wasn't chill, so she shrugged nonchalantly, "You're welcome, I guess. Anyway, as I was saying, I'm not caught up to the current season of my timeline but I think I remember this whole Jack-gone-missing thing a little bit. I want to say you all track him down somewhere in… Oregon? Washington? I'm getting a Northwest-ish feeling." She began unconsciously pacing around the room, gesturing energetically with her hands. "I can picture a battle taking place in the woods...Jack being in danger, you all being in danger, too...some fighting...maybe someone losing the fight? Or getting really hurt," She glanced worriedly at Castiel. He'd be the only actor they'd axe of the three of them, so it stood to reason he'd be the most likely to die if she was right.

Dean and Sam shared a look before Dean asked, "Fine, I'll bite. Do you know a city? A time-frame? Who we're fighting? Anything specific?"

George paused and then slumped a bit in defeat, "No. I've only really watched up through, like, literally now. Other than random things I've heard or seen in passing, I don't know anything that's happened since ya'll got back from the apocalypse world. Been purposefully trying to avoid spoilers, too, which is a decision I now regret, obviously."

"OK, well look, sweetheart, it's OK," Dean began, in an embarrassingly condescending, douchey tone, "We don't expect you to help us. I mean, we're grateful about the assist with Cleetus, obviously but this-" Dean vaguely motioned in her direction and she raised an offended eyebrow, "-was obviously just a weird magical mess that Rowena left for us to clean up yet again. So, you just sit back and relax, and once we find Jack we'll figure out how to get you back home in a jiff, OK?" He winked and finger gunned at her, adding, "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it." In his way, Dean was trying to convey to her a sense of ease and comfort that they would take care of things. But, unsurprisingly, he came off incredibly dismissive and patronizing. Her cheeks flushed an angry red; she'd had it up to here with him by now.

Sam and Castiel exchanged nervous glances at the look on her face and Sam tried to stop it before the inevitable happened, "Uh, Dean, mayb-"

Cutting him off, George slowly walked toward Dean, eyes blazing, "Listen sweet cheeks." She had a polite smile on her face as she tried her hardest to muster up the same condescending, silky, sweet Dean-tone, "I'm sympathetic to the fact that you can't help but be an insufferably arrogant ass most of the time-that's just how you were written," for a split second she saw Dean's cool-guy-smug-face falter and she relished it. She could tell she landed a blow, even if it was a small one, "but maybe you could do us all a favor and try to ignore your cro-magnon dated natural urges and attempt to be open minded for once in your life? Just try to consider the fact that, like it or not, I might not be a total useless red-shirt? That maybe I-once again the lone female in the entire world according to Supernatural-might actually be useful? Hmm? Might actually have useful-albeit vague-information for you? Or would taking your lead from a woman be too threatening to you overbearing, uber-macho, 'we-get-it-you're-totally-straight' masculinity?"

Dean's head jerked back in offense, "Now, wait a minute! What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it," She mocked him in a deep, goofy tone, high-fiving herself internally. Nailed it! She'd always hated how damn smug his character was. Yes, fine, he was hot and charming and smart as fuck and right at least like 75% of the time, but he didn't have to be so fucking arrogant about it all the time. She preferred a man with some humility.

Sam was smirking at the look on Dean's face and muttered teasingly, "How does it feel, Cleetus?"

"Except, you actually don't." Cas interjected begrudgingly, as he thoroughly enjoyed watching Dean get verbally bitch-slapped. In fact, he could watch it all day, but they needed to focus on Jack.

"Scuse me?" She said, maintaining her sweet tone while staring daggers at Dean. "Don't what?"

"Have useful information for us," the angel said begrudgingly matter-of-fact.

"Er," Sam interjected seeing the look on her face, "Uh, well, it's just according to Tim-Cleetus-whatever, Jack is being held captive inside an old church in a small ghost town outside Butte."

Dean slapped his hands over his mouth in mock surprise and then, taking a few steps toward George, he mimed a balloon being popped by an impractically large needle. He had an impossibly large grin spread across his face.

"She still has a point, Dean," Sam sighed in an annoyed, if not slightly embarrassed, tone at his brother's display.

Cas nodded in agreement, "Yes, you were incredibly condescending and unfriendly in your attempt at being friendly earlier. Even though she's wrong about Jack, she's right about your inability to relinquish control-to anyone, though, not specifically women."

"You all suck." Dean said flatly.

George ignored him and shook her head. She was more and more sure about her information by the second; despite her doubts she could feel she was right. "Listen, I'm telling you, Jack is not in some bullshit church in Montana. He's…" She struggled to remember. "Erg, somewhere rainy and wooded!"

"Rainy and wooded, you say?" She cringed angrily at the sound of Dean's voice. "That's really great, very helpful. Say, maybe we should look up your little murder buddy-OwnsHisOwnAxe69, was it?-and ask if he's got Jack stashed in the Marin Headlands?" Dean's voice dripped with sarcasm.

George shook her head at him and closed her eyes tight in an effort to block out his negativity. Walking slowly away from him and into the map room, she started talking to herself, in a pointedly loud voice. Her focus bounced between episodes from the show and conversations with her friend, Ryan, a Supernatural Encyclopedia. She was hoping she could piece together something useful.

"OK, hang on, Jack is born, gets sucked into Apocalypse World, comes back, has his grace stolen but he's safely with you guys, he's happy, he's great-albeit, moody and not the best at video games. Then he disappears and you can't find him, yadda yadda."

While she rambled, her mind's eye began conjuring images of what she assumed were scenes from the episode she was trying to think of. While helpful, it was also disconcerting since she'd never actually seen it. She thought perhaps she'd seen clips on youtube while watching bloopers? She never could stay away from them, even if she hadn't seen the episode yet; they were just too funny. Maybe her overactive imagination was just creating scenes around what little knowledge she did have, "...and there's an epic-potentially deadly-fight scene at the end of one of the last episodes of the season. An episode that was, oh so noteworthily filmed on location iiiiinnn…" She tried to demand that her memories behave for her but it was challenging, considering she shouldn't have any memories of having watched the damn thing at all. "...where? Fuck me!" She snarled, chasing desperately after her murky visions as they swirled too abstractly for her to discern.

In a sudden moment of unusual clarity she could see the words displayed behind her eyelids. '...False Klamath? Where the fuck… why does that sound familiar? She flashed to the location in her memories and saw big wooden statues towering outside the scenic little tourist trap

Her eyes popped open with a gasp, "Johnny Appleseed!"

"Johnny Appleseed?" Dean teased, mock exasperatedly, "We're trying to find JACK."

"The Johnny Appleseed statue at The Trees of Enigma! Just outside False Klamath, Oregon!" She slammed both her hands down on the table in front of her in uncontrollably jubilant victory. "HA! Take THAT!" She jumped up excitedly and punched her fist in the air. "I did it! I remembered!"

"Sam, can you translate any of this?" Dean asked, annoyed.

"On the show," She started smugly, before Sam could say anything, "the battle that you two get into when you find Jack, takes place at a tourist spot called The Trees of Enigma. The episode was filmed on location at said tourist spot, in-say it with me now-False Klamath, Oregon. Oregon, Dean. A place that is known for being both rainy and wooded." Her finger was placed on the map table in the general area of Oregon, "that's where you'll find Jack. I'm sure of it." Her adrenaline was pumping and she was so stoked. It felt really good to be useful; like she was part of the show!

"Yea, that's great, sounds fun," Dean started dismissively, though toned down a bit, "but we're not risking Jack's life to follow your hunch."

"Excuse me. Why is my so-called hunch less believable than a demon's word? Especially a demon named Cleetus. Rude," George looked particularly offended now.

"Tim gave us real, solid intel and we've never had a problem when we've relied on our trusted resources in the past," He answered confidently. George's head jerked toward him like she hadn't heard correctly and she gave Sam and Castiel some crazy eyebrows.

"Sorry, you understand that I do watch the show, right?" She asked rhetorically, with a doubtful expression. When he rolled his eyes, she let out a frustrated huff. "Dean, think about this! He's a demon! He lies! Look, I know you have no reason in the world to trust me but you've got to; just think about it. Even IF it is demons that have Jack, don't you think it's possible that the prisoner demon you're threatening to torture might give you a false lead? Especially if he's naive enough to think he'll be able to escape and doesn't want to get in trouble with his bosses? C'mon, this is not-the-sharpest-tack-Tim we're talking about!"

Sam and Castiel had agreeably expressions but Dean's was stubbornly disagreeable, though she could tell he knew she was right. The thought of them going to Montana gave her a dreadful, suffocating feeling, like death.

So, she tried one more tactic and held her hands up in prayer, "Dean please, I don't know what and I don't know how I know, but I know in my gut that if you go to Montana, something terrible will happen. And Jack's not there, I promise you." She dropped all the bullshit and gave him her best seriously-just-listen-to-me face but Dean still wasn't budging.

"Christ, I knew you were stubborn but this is ridiculous, ugh. OK, fine!" She threw her hands up and turned on her heel, heading toward the dungeon.

"Wait, where are you going?" Sam asked quickly.

"Obviously I didn't hurt his feelings badly enough the first time, so I'm going to go have another chat with Cleetus and get him to admit that he's a liar, liar, pant-"

"Er-you... can't do that," Sam cut her off apologetically.

"Sam, he's handcuffed to a chair. I appreciate the concern but-"

"He means you really can't," Dean added. George looked toward him annoyed and Dean continued, "After he gave us everything we needed we pretty much, chk," he finished, slicing a finger across his throat in demonstration. When she looked like she wanted to strangle him, he shrugged and offered, "RIP Cleetus."

George rolled her eyes in exasperation, "But he was lying! Don't you confirm the information before you cut off the source?! Oh my god, why am I even asking? You're the Winchesters, of course you don't." The three of men looked between each other guiltily and she placed her hand on her hip, "What if that was just an act and Tim saw an opportunity. Feeding you some bullshit so that you couldn't actually find Jack? Or, maybe Tim has nothing to do with Jack at all, and sending you to Montana is just a good old fashioned ambush?!" She paused for a moment and gave a surprised, appreciative nod, "Hmm, maybe I underestimated ole' Cleetus a bit. Could have been smarter than I thought."

"She does have a point, Dean. The chances that he was lying are incredibly high," Cas conceded slightly, giving Dean a questioning look. "We have no proof that his lead is any better than hers. Demon's lie."

"Damnit, alright, fine," Dean said, sighing angrily. "Sam and I will go to Oregon to look for Jack; Cas, check out Butte-carefully, strictly recon, do not engage-and call us if you find any trace of him." He shot a quick warning look at George. "We'll turn around and come right to you. Sound like a plan? Great, let's go."

"Wait, no! Don't send him to Butte! Didn't you hear me? If it's an ambush, he'll get his ass kicked!"

"Hey." Cas looked hurt and George softened her face at him.

"Oh, I'm sorry Castiel. You're a total badass when the plot calls for it, otherwise, getting beat up is just kind of your MO." Ignoring the confused look on the angel's face, She turned back to Dean, "and besides you need Castiel in Oregon, Dean. I've seen it!"

"Oh? I thought you hadn't 'seen this episode yet'?" Dean said sarcastically.

"I-I… Well, OK, I haven't, but I've seen the three of you and Jack all together for this fight. Just trust me, you need him there. What if Jack is hurt when you find him? Cas can heal him, right?" She made a questioning face to Castiel; at the moment she couldn't remember the extent of his powers on the show and he was always losing one or another for whatever reason, anyway. But if she was right, she figured that even if Dean wouldn't trust her gut, he might trust that having a healing angel on their journey would be a benefit. "Is that a power you have? I feel like I've seen you do that."

"She's right, Dean. I can heal him if we find him injured," Cas offered her helpfully and she shot him a grateful expression, actually looking him in the eyes for the first time, albeit fleetingly.

"Have you seen Jack get hurt?" Sam asked her, trying to help, too. He remained a neutral party at this point, but if he was honest with himself, he believed her. Maybe a little too much, which is why he was trying to stay impartial. If he was being blinded by his confusing memories and the undeniable-yet-currently-being-denied feelings he was developing for her and ended up wrong, Jack could be killed.

"Uh… I mean, no… not definitively, but it's pretty standard for the show. You're all constantly getting hurt during fights and when it's close to a season finale the danger factor is skyhigh for anyone who isn't you two…" After motioning to the brothers, she trailed off, afraid that this reasoning was going to hurt her more than help her.

Sam gave her a long, contemplative look before finally offering, "I can have a small team go check out Butte. Maybe Garth can join? Last time I talked to him he was near there."

Dean's teeth and fists were clenched as he took a deep, exaggerated breath, "Fine. We'll send a group to Butte and call Garth from the road-No arguments!" He held up his hand to her as she opened her mouth to speak. "The three of us are going to Oregon, just as you demand, but I'm not leaving anything to chance on some alien's hunch. Garth can handle himself."

She made an indignant face at him-she wasn't an alien, she was from an alternate reality! Get it right. But, while she was afraid of someone getting hurt in the obvious trap that had been set for them in Montana, the thought of Garth going instead didn't give her the same full-body fear shudder. So, she figured she'd take what she could get and not push the issue further. Besides, she knew Dean wasn't going to be happy about her next move and she had to pick her battles.

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester x original character #sam winchester x original female character #swearing #humor #eventual smut #eventual relationship #slow burn #eventual dean winchester x oc #eventual dean winchester x castiel #bi dean

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dickbaggins · 4 years

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hey hey the amazing @gollyderek tagged me to share some of a wip and since it’s technically now wednesday, let’s call it wip wednesday! I’m working on two things, my low/urban fantasy series (and I do mean low, it’s set in jersey city) and a very impulsive frank/billy/deadpool that I started last night that everyone’s already sick of! So here’s some garbage!

so my main project for nano is a fantasy series about a very traumatized incubus (who doesn’t know he’s an incubus and who happens to look exactly like ben barnes) working as a private investigator in a supernaturally-populated jersey city. he’s really awkward, and here, his new sidekicks, an angel and an immortal warrior who may or may not be diarmuid and the mute from pilgrimage, help him get ready for a date:

“How have you never been on a date?” Tim says at the apartment door, blustering in with Laz following behind him. “You’re like, the dreamiest thing in the whole city. The whole eastern seaboard. There should be a line out this door for dates with you. How do you even fill your time if you’re not dating?”

And he goes on and on, walking straight ahead to Gem’s bedroom, to the closet and the dresser.

Gem shoots a nervous look at Laz, who smiles with his mouth closed and pats Gem on the back. It’s comforting even if there’s no words, but Gem’s stomach is still flipping.

“I’ve had bad experiences,” is all Gem says, sitting down heavily on the edge of his bed while Tim combs through his closet.

“Do you even know the place he wants to meet you at? That place is expensive as hell. It has a michelin star!”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Oh my god. Gemini. This might be a fake date but do not go into it thinking that.”

“What should I be thinking, then?”

“A companionable night with a new flame,” Tim rattles off with a bit of a lecherous grin. “Do you not have a suit? What forty year old man doesn’t have a suit?”

“Me, I guess. What would I need a suit for?”

“Men need suits, Gem,” Tim sighs, exasperated as he continues through the closet, setting out a few things still on hangers on top of the dresser. “Especially when they’re going to one of the most expensive restaurants in the city with one of the most eligible bachelors in the state!”

“Well...date’s not until tomorrow,” Gem points out, glancing from Laz in the doorway as ever, to Tim still pawing through his clothes. “That’s enough time for a suit, right?”

Tim turns around with his eyes narrowed, hands on his hips, puffing a sigh and shaking his head. “You’ve got a lot to learn about suits, Gemini Royle.”

and last night I started writing based on a slew of terrible deadpool fourth wall jokes about frank and billy and, well, I had a lot of fun writing it but I doubt it’s ever going to see the light of day after this post. Here’s all of it so far, because why the fuck not! It’s set in an alternate s2 where Frank saves Bill at the end and then has to figure out what the fuck to do with him.

It’s tense in here, in Frank’s shithole studio apartment. Seems too small for him to be standing here on his own, let alone with Billy Russo across from him. There’s absolutely nowhere to hide. And there's a lot of things Frank, for once, wants to hide from. Namely, the ruin of Billy’s face and the wan, pale tone of his skin, the sharp, watery glint of his eyes.

He’s almost died twice now, at Frank’s hands, and the only difference this time was Frank calling in favours. He still doesn’t know why he did it. So he can’t answer Billy’s sole question of why why why. He can just look. And wonder at his own foolish actions. Again.

They’re locked like that, staring at each other, wondering, waiting for who’s gonna be the first one up to incite violence. Judging from the flop sweat on Billy’s brow, it’s not likely to be him, this time. Frank doesn’t have any answers for him, doesn’t even have an impulse to finish the job. It’s gone beyond sad, at this point.

At this point, it’s just stupid.

There’s a tap on the window, rattling it in it’s delicate prewar frame and Frank’s stomach drops out.

Things are about to get even stupider, somehow.

The tap precedes the awkward scrabbling and the window opens to the cold city air rushing in for a few seconds until the lanky, red and black clad figure thumps inelegantly into the room, landing hard on his hip, immediately reaching up to slam the window back shut, one-handed.

This is just about the worst timing Frank can imagine. He winces, glancing at Billy but it’s too late; the other man’s already crossed the few steps towards the window, hauling the intruder up by his neck and pushing him up against the wall.

“Whoa, Frank, i didn’t know you had company, like, ever,” Wade Wilson starts, rapid-fire, his voice a little higher than usual for Billy’s long fingers squeezing at his neck. “Let alone a freaking Disney prince, holy hell. I mean, a very specific Disney prince, except it kinda looks like Aslan finally went rogue and did some damage. God, when will people learn? Wild animals cannot be tamed, even if they are Jesus or whatever.”

“Wilson, shut up,” Frank mutters, feeling a headache growing, slamming him like a dart right between the eyes.

“Friend of yours?” Billy hisses, his black eyes fixed wild on Wade Wilson, wide and dangerous.

“I could ask the same question,” Wade says, voice even tighter, his long body starting to slump a little, “But I'm starting to see all kindsa fun stars and black holes here, so I don’t think I’m gonna get it out. Hi, I’m Deadpool, I’m Frank’s new best friend and gosh, you’ve got big hands.”

Frank watches Billy’s hand tighten for a second before he finally lets go, and Wilson sinks to the floor with his legs outstretched.

“Frank?” Billy looks to him, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Yeah, yeah, he’s fine. I know him.”

“He’s being modest,” Wade coughs, absently waving his hands around like they’re half-limp, half-useless, and Frank can never tell when he’s joking. “We’re embarking on a really juicy enemies-with-benefits-to-friends-with-benefits-to-lovers-with-guns arc. Fifteen chapters minimum, probably well over 500k words. Slow burn, I’m assuming, since we haven’t even kissed yet. Maybe tonight’s the night, huh, Frank?”

“I camped out on a rooftop with him once, a few months back,” Frank offers by way of easier to understand explanations. “Staking out the same warehouse. Wouldn’t shut up.”

“Is this...the red pajamas guy?” Billy starts slowly, squinting down at Wade.

“I don’t even wear pajamas to bed but oh my god, you’ve been talking about me? I’m blushing.”

“Yeah, from the papers,” Billy continues, “The devil of hell’s kitchen. Your buddy from a while back.”

“Ooooh, easy mistake. The main difference is the catholic repression. If you thought Frank was bad, you should see that guy! I bet those two had some real snoozer conversations, huh? Dithering over rosaries and the nuances of communion wafers. No, see, I’m Deadpool.”

“Right,” Billy huffs out of his nose, looking at Frank again. He looks lost; he looks, a little, like how Frank found him in that basement after Curtis called him, like things are moving too fast and even he can’t keep up. “Frankie? Everything cool?”

“Yeah, Bill. we’re good.”

“Bill! You’re that guy!” Wade says, scrambling to his feet, his boots squeaking on the floor. He rushes to tug his mask up out of his suit and off, presenting his mottled, scarred face with a big grin at Billy. “We’re like, face twins! Or we would be, if the producers had the balls to even try and make you look ugly. See, that’s a main facet of my personality, so they couldn’t skip over it with me. Same vibe, though!”

Frank’s seen it all, as far as injuries go; hell, he designed the lines and craters on Billy’s face with his own two hands, watched him gush blood over meat and bone. Maybe that was why, the first time Wilson took his mask off (with a warning of ‘hold on to your balls, baby’), Frank hadn’t done much more than survey the damage and nod once. He still can’t figure out if Wilson was offended or impressed, that night, although judging from the way he can’t shake the merc, he figures it’s the latter.

Billy has nearly the same reaction, a detached curiosity, a slight purse of his lips as he looks Wilson’s face over. “Didn’t think anyone could look worse than me.”

“Oh please, you’re still such a panty-drencher. And those big black eyes, gosh, I’m swooning,” Wilson says, clutching at his chest through his suit. “Oh, are you my romantic rival? For Frank’s affection? Cause I mean, from how he talks about you, it really sounds like there was some - “ he makes a circle with his thumb and the fingers of one hand, poking his other index finger through it multiple times, slow and then fast, and then there’s two fingers, and then three, and Frank’s just about to tell him to jump his ass back out the window when Billy actually laughs.

Frank hasn’t heard that noise in so long, not in any kind of genuine way, and there’s something about it that eases up the hard clutch of his chest, the ice in his guts. “Don’t encourage him,” Frank grumbles nonetheless, throwing himself into making coffee in the kitchen, the usual first activity he does when Wade’s just tumbled in through his window.

“I think I like this guy,” Billy says, and Frank hears the distinct muffled sound of Wilson clapping his gloved hands behind him.

“We should do a team-up! It’ll make the romantic tension even better, when Frank and I finally do start putting things in very tight places. Very tight, Frank. In case you’re wondering.”

“I’m not,” he shoots back over his shoulder, glad his back is turned for that particular phrase. It’s not like he’s been impervious to Wilson’s flirtations; it’s hard to be made of stone when he’s fawning after you, something so sweet and clingy in his affection.

“I guess we could do a whole-ass threeway relationship,” Wilson considers thoughtfully, and the thumping noise now is him sailing onto the loveseat; Frank’s been getting to know that one a little too well in recent weeks. “It’s been done before, more or less, by way better. And you’re supposed to be a bad guy, right? Frank saving you from the icy clutches of death really boned up your canon, huh? Someone’s blindly sentimental with a bullish villain boner and I don’t mean him. Come, sit, let’s chat.”

Wade’s the only person Frank’s ever met that talks as much as Bill, and having them on the same couch, let alone in the same room is something he’s never even considered. The chatter is nice though, in a way, filling up the space where there’s usually silence, where he’d been worried, actually, about this thing now, with Billy. Where he’s back to something like fighting fit and got nowhere else to go, so he’s crashing here before Curtis nuts up and calls the cops. Somehow, having Wade Wilson with the worst timing ever, has taken a good deal of pressure off the whole situation.

“And you’re both snipers! That’s really romantic. So much time in foxholes together, huh? All those long nights with nothing else to do but mutual handies and some high school style necking, gosh, it almost makes me nostalgic.”

Frank’s never heard Wilson talk about his own special forces record before, but he’s at least wrist-deep into it with Billy listening, perched on the arm of the couch. The apartment’s small enough that Frank can lean on the kitchen counter and still take part, although he doesn’t have much to add. He crosses his arms and waits for the water to boil, waits for either of them to run out of conversation but it’s not happening.

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twinkledadwa · 4 years

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Home is Where (a ghost nest #1)

november 7th, 4:47 am pst.

in all sincerity;

this interview was birthed from the innate fear of death. for what it is to ‘be a ghost’, beyond having the ability to slam doors after your passing, isn’t truly defined. a trait consistent throughout the many interpretations of angels, spirits, paranormal and such is the presence felt being an essence lost in time. ‘who’ a person is stops at their death. all human aspects stripped, ghosts work as an echo of a fading past; something more akin to a message in a bottle than an entity still living.

so, in our lives, do we strive to create essences that continue to build after our deaths? or do we attempt to capture our essences well enough at the moment to make our ghosts stronger? the latter has been adopted for ‘a ghost nest’. i hope, for everybody’s sake, that it isn't explained again. context felt necessary to clear up why these interviews are in a hybrid, ‘Dear Sally’-esque format. what this should be considered, at most, is an exercise in essence on a minuscule scale.

and on november 7th, at approximately 5:10 am pst, brandon macdonald expressed a similar sentiment. ‘tantrum provider’ for Palm Coast-based emo band Home is Where, they noted the name’s function as a subliminal advertisement; so that whenever the proverb it takes from is used, listeners at any moment in time will harken back to sound bleeding with vibrancy. ‘the scientific classification of stingrays’ (topical cover art) carries an urgency somehow familiar, symptomatic of the band stretching their foundations into their own monument. for ninety minutes, unknowingly breaths away from a new president-elect, we had a conversation.

this is Home is Where’s ghost nest.

youtube

So, how long is too long for us not to have a presidential assassination?

Brandon: Um, that’s a good question. I was on a local podcast recently and, funny enough, I didn’t know going into it that they’re sponsored by a financial magazine? I lost my shit finding that out. I was laughing my ass off. I was like, “your financial magazine, right now, is supporting an artist who is a dedicated Marxist. A communist who sees these people on the street and knows that I represent exactly what they’re against”. The song isn’t meant to be about an actual assassination or about Orange Man himself. I wanted it to be a comment on the structure itself, you know, how long living within it does it take before everything builds up and we eventually bite the hand that feeds us?

Protest music that names specific presidents does not age well. Look at 80s punk, besides Dead Kennedys, mentioning Reagan. You know, what was the name of that compilation against Bush? The intention was to write a protest song that lasts longer than a presidency. Also, it was easier from a lyric-writing perspective, although there are plenty of words that rhyme with Trump. I don’t know about McConnell [laughs].

Videos of ‘stingrays’ live date back to January. Was all the material off the next record written pre-quarantine?

All of it. We were sitting on this material for a while, and we went into the studio in early April. We wanted to pump something out before, you know, the end of the world happened. So we got those done, it was mastered around May, and now we are waiting for a few more parts to be sent in. That’s no worries, it’s been a difficult time for all of us. The original plan wasn’t even to drop a single for ‘i became birds’. 2021 was coming up and we hadn’t released anything this year, so ‘stingrays’ felt like the most direct and obvious choice.

In the world, how do you see both your personal presence & Home is Where’s presence?

You know, I don’t leave the house much. If I do, I wear a mask. I go to work. I spend time with my cat. I hang out with my girlfriend when I can, as we’re pretty much on opposite schedules. The band hasn’t been up to much. We haven’t met since May and we’ve all faced changes in our individual lives, but at some point, when or if the chaos comes to an end, we’ll be playing together again. In terms of Home is Where? We’re an emo band from Florida. There’s plenty of those. This might be a pretty trash take, but a lot of the bands in the scene comment on liberalism, and you can only gain so much by listening to it. You should spend your time reading theory, doing something actually important, so you’d be able to make a change in the world. So, in the grand scheme of things, Home is Where is not important. However, it is something I love and am fortunate enough to do.

Dear Brandon, of Home is Where. I’m having trouble finding my own space when stuck home with my family. What should I do?

Charley, in Pennsylvania.

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Brandon: Is this referring to COVID?

I’m pretty sure it is.

. Okay, I think I have an answer for this.

In terms of finding your own space, just find something you’re passionate about and, fucking, dive headfirst into it. A few years back, around the time we started to get serious with the band, I was in a position where I didn’t have a job but I had enough saved up so that it was a few months until I had to worry about rent. With all the time I had, I wanted to buckle down and get really into something I wanted to learn everything about emo. You know, I knew Rites of Spring were the ones who started the genre and some of the stuff about the 90s, but I wanted to know all of it. There were 2000 emo albums that I downloaded and I listened through all of them. Everyone inspired me. Not all of them were good, no. Some were bad, but by listening to them, I knew exactly what I didn’t want to do. It helped clarify what I wanted Home is Where to sound like.

Find something you’re passionate about. You know, reading theory, making art, do something that makes at home in your home. You can do so many great things.

Do you have any song recommendations for this situation?

I have two! The first is, well, you can never go wrong with Cap’n Jazz. Pioneers, truly some of the greats. Tim Kinsella is a genius; I do my best to take what I can from him. It’s him and Bob Dylan. The song is We Are Scientists! (by Cap’n Jazz). I believe some of the lyrics do touch upon that feeling of being stuck around other people. Like, “starchy product scripted people I never asked to care about”? “you can’t look at the sky without looking right through it”? Those lines are, mwah, chef’s kiss!

The second is H.S. by Plunger. Let me pull up the lyrics to this. It’s another one that comments directly on feeling isolated from those around you. Here it is; “All these old faces/Smiling and laughing/But you’ll never leave fourteen”. Yeah, that seems to sum up the emotion this person expressed.

Dear Brandon, of Home is Where. Things recently ended with a person I had been seeing. I hurt them, didn’t communicate my feelings properly, and I feel like garbage for it. I leave the continent for 5 months in a few weeks, and I want to reach out before I leave, but also I want to give her space? Should I wait and see if she reaches out? I’m a dumb stupid idiot. Dumb stupid idiot, in Maine.

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‘Dumb stupid idiot’ [laughs]. That truly is an emo question. I am sorry to hear that you’re going through that. That sucks, man. Heartbreak sucks. I wish you the best in leaving the country during COVID times, seeing as that might be difficult, and hopefully, it opens your eyes to new things.

My one piece of advice is to give it time. I know a few years seems like a lot of time, but it really isn’t. There are moments where I, too, indulge in being derogatory towards myself. Home is Where has lyrics about feeling alienated, being hard on yourself. A few years ago, I moved back to the town I grew up in, and even though it was considered ‘home’, I didn’t feel that. It was tough. Eventually, over time, everything came together. You just gotta wait and look back when you’re in a better headspace,

You’re going overseas, you have so many new experiences ahead of you. Who knows, maybe you two will end up working out, we’ll see. You got this. I’m rooting for ya.

Do you have any song recommendations?

I came up with three, actually. One isn’t emo or anything close to adjacent, so I added another to compensate.

I Love You Too by Rainer Maria is the first one. It’s hard to find emo that deals straight up with a break-up, there isn’t much out there, but Rainer Maria stuck out. This song is killer. That entire EP is killer. One of the best emo bands ever.

Idiot Wind by Bob Dylan is my second recommendation. Which is not emo, but in terms of break-up songs, it doesn’t get much better than this. Blood on the Tracks is fucking brutal; Dylan puts blame on pretty much everything.

The other emo song is from, I want to say, around 2000 or 2001? Near the end of that 90s, ‘second wave’ emo, whatever it is considered. The song is For Meg by On the Might of Princes. It’s about Meg Griffin from Family Guy. No, it’s not. Actually, I am not sure, but this track has just about everything; it’s lo-fi, has some screams, and the lyrics seem to discuss a heartbreak;

”This is for you. to hold you close, to keep you Close to my heart. I'll scream it til your ears bleed You'll always have a friend in me”

Great, great emo that gets heavy. They’re the only emo band that Brave Little Abacus cited as an influence on their sound. You should definitely check them out.

Home is Where’s visual ghost nest (collages & mixtape visualizer) consists of: Modern Times//Halloween: Resurrection (”Busta Rhymes beating the shit out of Michael Myers is a 10/10 for me”)//Blood Diner//Simpsons: Hit & Run//City Lights//Woody Guthrie: Hard Travelin’//The Horror of Party Beach//Peanuts//Zippy the Pinhead//Fritz the Cat//The Enfield Haunting//Twin Peaks//Wayne’s World 2//Synecdoche, New York//Japanese Woodblock Prints

Home is Where can be found on twitter, facebook, and bandcamp. ‘i became birds’ out 2021 on Knifepunch Records.

their ghost nest is on spotify. questions for future ‘episodes’ can be asked under the advice tab.

this now exists. bless to brandon, Home is Where, and you all.

#what would be a good hashtag #interview #Home is Where #diy #emo #college #ghosts #ghost nest #florida is in stage 4. isn't that concerning?#bob dylan #tacoma

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ragingbookdragon · 4 years

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In The Moments Of Our Weakness

A/N: Aye did anyone order any Tim angst??? No? Oh well, I’m posting some anyways! I hope you cry big tears :) -Thorne <3

The entire day had seemed to be one clusterfuck after the other to Tim.

First, that morning, accidently running into Alfred as he made his way down the hallway.

Hands gripped the textbooks tight to his chest, keeping them from falling to the floor as he sprinted from his room. How he’d managed to oversleep, he had no idea. Well…he had some idea; staying up until the ass-crack of dawn would deprive even the best of them of energy. He glanced down at his wrist, checking the time, but in those seconds, he failed to see the man coming his way, and the next thing he knew, he was falling, books flying one direction, silverware clattering in another. He grunted as he hit the ground, immediately glancing over to see what he’d hit. When he saw it, he blanched, apologies tumbling from his lips like water down cascades. “Oh shi-Alfred I’m sorry. I didn’t see you coming down the hallway. I’m really sorry.” The older man sighed, pulling his handkerchief from his pocket to dab at the oatmeal plastered against his chest.

“It’s alright Master Tim. Though I do hope this is a reminder of why we don’t run in the manor.” Tim winced, hands shifting to gather the fallen dishes.

“Yeah…it is…” He held the tray in one hand, offering the other to Alfred; he took it, pulling himself up before he took the tray. “I’m really sorry about this Alfred.” The man gave a smile, resting a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“It’s alright Master Tim.” He removed his hand, nodding at Tim’s books still scattered along the floor. “But if you don’t hurry, you’ll be late for literature.” Tim’s eyes widened and he scrambled for his things, throwing out,

“Thanks Alfred. And again, sorry!” He took off, leaving the older man to shout,

“No running!”

Then, when he’d managed to get to class, he almost cried as the teacher began collecting their research essays…something he’d forgotten to do.

He sighed as he picked up his bag, mind already shifting around what to do his essay on and made his way to the door. He was about five feet away when he heard, “Mr. Drake, a moment please.” Tim grimaced as he turned, walking to the desk his professor sat at; he stopped in front, looking at her.

“Yes, Professor Nina?” She shifted around the essays on the desk then mused,

“I don’t believe you handed a paper forward when I asked for them.” She looked at him. “May I ask where yours is?” Tim opened his mouth, but quickly shut it, then let out a groan and admitted,

“…I don’t have one Professor.” Her expression didn’t change, still showing no amusement as she said,

“You’re usually on top of all your work Tim.” He nodded mutely, keeping quiet as she let out a sigh, pulling her role-book from the side. “I’ll extend the due date two days until next class period. Get it to me either then or before and I’ll still give you credit.” Tim nodded, replying,

“Thank you, Professor Nina, I really-” She held up a hand, her voice firm as she stated,

“Don’t thank me Tim. I’m still docking you fifteen points for it being late.” She frowned at him. “You’ve had over two months to write this and you haven’t even started. I should just give you a zero.” She gathered her things, picking up her purse. “Have a good day Tim. Best start writing now.” Tim watched her leave, exhaling,

“You too Professor.” Despite Bruce being the biggest contributor Gotham University had, the teachers still seemed to rail him just as much as any other student.

The biggest clusterfuck of all seemed to happen that night during patrol.

He stood quietly in front of the three body bags, eyes trained on the flashing blue lights around him. Footsteps sounded beside him, but he didn’t look at whoever was now standing next to him; Tim’s voice was soft as he whispered, “I’m sorry Commissioner.” The man hummed, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not your fault son.” Tim tipped his head to the side, almost as if the words stung him, and he countered,

“But it was…I wasn’t fast enough to stop Two-Face…and these officers paid the price for it.” Gordon frowned, shifting so his body was facing Tim’s.

“Son…it wasn’t your-” Tim cut him off, pointing to the first bag, his voice monotone as he said,

“Officer Martinez has eight-month-old twins at home.” He pointed to the second. “Officer Olivia and her wife just got married last year.” Tim’s hand shifted to the last one. “Officer Nick and his wife just welcomed their first grandchild.” He turned his head to stare at Gordon, his voice full of loathing as he spit, “I may have not pulled the trigger that killed them, but my incompetence might as well have.” Tim swallowed thickly, the emotion rising in his throat, and he shook his head, muttering, “I need to report back to Batman, Commissioner…I’ll leave them to you.” He shook the hand off his shoulder, feet heavy as lead as he took each step away from the crime scene.

Everything boiled down to the moment in the cave as he stood at the Batcomputer, watching the information roll across the screen, the voices of his siblings in the background.

“Hey Timberly, are you coming?” He grunted at Jason’s voice and replied,

“You guys go ahead…I’m gonna stay and do some more reports.” A sigh sounded from behind, and Dick rested his hand on Tim’s back.

“Timmy…what happened to those officers wasn’t your fault.” He shook his head, stepping away from Dick’s hand.

“I’m fine Dick…don’t worry about me.” Before Dick could respond, a scoff echoed through the cave.

“Well no one does anyway. Honestly it’s surprising that you couldn’t stop Two-Face.”

“Damian, stop.” Bruce’s voice was firm, but Tim paid it no mind, agreeing,

“Yeah Damian, I know.”

“I almost wonder why Grandfather thinks you are such a good detective, but you couldn’t even save three officers from a simple trap.”

“Hey Short-Stack, can it, would you?” Damian grunted, glancing at Jason.

“What, I’m just reminding Drake what happens when you fail. Isn’t that right Drake?” Tim’s lips curled, but he bit his cheek, muttering,

“I know.”

“Really, how did you not save them? It couldn’t have been that hard. You are obviously-” Something inside Tim snapped and he whirled around, baby-blue eyes wide with anger as he exploded,

“I KNOW DAMIAN! I KNOW I FUCKED UP TONIGHT! I KNOW THEY DIED BECAUSE I WASN’T FAST ENOUGH! I KNOW!” He took a step towards the boy, placing a hand against his chest. “DO YOU HONESTLY THINK I LIKE MAKING GIANT FUCK-UPS THAT END UP WITH THREE DEAD OFFICERS WHOSE FAMILIES HAVE NO ONE TO BLAME BUT ME?! I KNOW THEIR DEATHS ARE ON MY HANDS! I’M GONNA CARRY IT WITH ME FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE THAT I WASN’T QUICK ENOUGH TO SAVE THEM!” He didn’t even realize that the tears were falling down his cheeks until he heard,

“…Timmy…” His eyes darted to Dick’s, who’s were full of sympathy. Tim reached up, wiping furiously at the wet warmth, taking a step backwards; his foot twisted behind him, and he went to his knees, hands covering his face as he sobbed,

“I’m so tired…I’m just so…tired…” He wept into his hands, the tears streaming down his face through his fingers, and sucked in a breath, lamenting, “I’m so tired of fighting, when all I want to do is breakdown…” A hand rested on his shoulder, and a voice followed quietly,

“Dick, take the others upstairs.” Bruce’s arms wound around Tim, pulling him to his chest, one hand rubbing his back, the other holding his head as he rested his chin on it. “It’s okay Tim…Let it out.” The boy seemed to curl in on himself as he gripped his father’s shirt, bawling like a child who’d lost his favorite toy. Bruce simply held him, whispering kind and understanding words, his thumb gently rubbing against Tim’s head; Tim sniffled, choking out,

“…I’m…sorry…Bruce…” His father hummed, tucking Tim’s head under his chin.

“It wasn’t your fault Tim.”

“But…I…” Bruce shook his head, holding Tim tighter to him, his voice comforting, yet firm as he stated,

“It wasn’t your fault son.” More tears welled in Tim’s eyes, and he clenched them shut, burying his face in Bruce’s shirt, weeping quietly. An hour or so later, the two still sat on the floor, Tim’s head still tucked safely beneath Bruce’s chin, his arms still wound around him; Tim inhaled through his nose as he shifted, murmuring,

“…Sorry…” Bruce shook his head, letting Tim leave his embrace; the boy settled a couple inches away, and Bruce assured,

“It’s alright Tim.” He reached up, rubbing his thumb under Tim’s eye, his voice solemn as he said, “Tim, what happened to those officers isn’t on you. You understand that, don’t you?” It took Tim a moment, but he nodded mutely, then admitted,

“…If I’d just been faster, I could’ve saved them though…” Bruce nodded, moving his hand to Tim’s shoulder.

“Tim. Look at me.” When he didn’t, Bruce squeezed his shoulder, and he drew his gaze to his fathers; Bruce stared at him, affirming, “One of the worst downsides to this job is the knowledge that sometimes we can’t save them all.” His son dropped his gaze, but Bruce shifted, gently raising his chin, and declared, “But what you’ve got inside you is what is gonna keep you going…you’ve gotta believe in that son.” Tim tipped his head to the side, eyes shutting tight as he fought the tears away, whispering,

“…But how? How do I do that when I stand before three twenty-one-gun salutes knowing what I know? Knowing that if I’d-” Bruce cut him off, pressing his finger against his chest.

“You vow to do better. To keep their memory alive and make sure their deaths weren’t in vain.” Bruce pulled his hand away, placing it on Tim’s head. “You make sure that what happened to them doesn’t repeat itself with anyone else. That’s how you do it.” Tim stared at his father, then exhaled and nodded.

“…I understand.” Bruce lowered his hand, rising from the floor.

“I’d ask if you want to come upstairs, but I think you’d rather stay in here for a while.” Tim huffed a laugh and nodded, watching as Bruce started to walk off; he called out to him.

“Bruce?” He spun around, looking at Tim.

“Yes?” Tim swallowed and stood up, deciding,

“I want to open a charity for the families of the fallen officers…I know it won’t bring them back…but their service won’t be forgotten.” Bruce observed Tim for a moment, then gave a satisfied smile.

“That sounds like a good plan Tim.” He nodded at him. “Don’t stay down here all night, okay?” Tim nodded, watching as he walked off, murmuring,

“Thanks dad.”

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mochegato · 3 years

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Nannyette

Chapter 5 – Fairies Don’t Just Fly

Chapter 1 Chapter 4

“Just a quick in and out, right Tim?” Kon looked pointedly at Tim. “Because I have plans with Cassie.”

“Right, just in and out. I just need to grab the files from his room and we can leave.” Tim assured him quickly.

Kon stared at him, disbelief radiating from his entire being, because he knew Tim was lying. To himself or to Kon, maybe both, but if Marinette was there, Tim was not going to leave quickly. Something would come up. Something needing his immediate attention and then naturally, he couldn’t just leave. She might need help reaching something or she might need a break or she might have some valuable insights on… it didn’t really matter, Tim would come up with something. “I’m holding you to that.” He pointed at him threateningly.

Tim gave him a reassuring smile as he unlocked the door, calling out to them as they walked through to give Marinette and Mar’i a warning before they walked in on them. He turned toward the living room and froze in his tracks, Kon running into him, almost bowling him over.

Marinette was kneeling in the middle of the room pulling warm clothes over Mar’i’s swimsuit. Marinette meanwhile clearly hadn’t gotten the chance to pull all her clothes on before helping Mar’i with hers. She was in just an unbuttoned oxford shirt over her bikini. It wasn’t a particularly revealing bikini but it didn’t have to be for Tim. He had a hard time forming coherent thoughts when she was wrapped in a blanket. But in a bikini? Thank God breathing was an involuntary act because if it wasn’t, he would be dead now.

Marinette looked up at him in mild surprise before giving him a blinding smile. “Hey guys, Kori said you guys were stopping by.” Tim could feel his face turning purple as Marinette sauntered over to them, her open Oxford shirt swaying as she walked. She held out her hand and looked at Kon with a strained smile. “It’s nice to meet you Kon.”

Kon smiled back at her, shaking her hand. “And you too. Tim’s mentioned you… a lot.”

Tim fought the urge to punch him for the comment but Marinette didn’t seem to notice. “That’s nice. He’s mentioned you as well. It’s nice to put a face to the name. Dick said the stuff is in their room.” She turned back to Mar’i, expecting Tim and Kon to move on, but Tim was still frozen in his tracks gaping at her, struggling to breathe.

When she didn’t hear any movement behind her she looked back at them with concern. “You okay, Tim?”

Kon bumped into him as casually as he could to knock him out of his daze. “Yeah,” he started louder than he meant to. Regulating volume was definitely a voluntary act and definitely required more brain power than he was capable of right now. “Yeah,” he said again at a closer to normal volume this time. “What a coincidence. We were going to the pool too.”

Kon looked over at him in barely hidden shock, “We were?” he whispered. Tim jabbed an elbow into his side and gave Marinette a strained smile.

“Oh, that’ll be fun. Did you guys want to walk with us?” She asked kindly. Spending the day with Tim in a swimsuit, with his boyfriend, wasn’t exactly her idea of a great afternoon, but she knew Mar’i would love it.

Mar’i was jumping up and down next to her. “Yes, yes, yes. Come with us!”

Tim’s smile turned a bit more strained, “Uh, sure. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” He turned to Kon and whispered as quietly as he could, “You need to go through Dick’s window and get our trunks as quickly as possible.”

Kon glowered at him, “No, no I don’t. You promised.”

“Bikini, Kon. She’s wearing a bikini.”

Kon gave him an unimpressed look. “We’ve both seen hundreds of women in bikinis and never cared.”

Tim gave him a pleading look, “But it’s Marinette. Please, please do this for me. Please.” His eyes turned desperate.

Kon sighed in defeat and rolled his eyes. “You’re paying for my and Cassie’s next date. And it won’t be cheap.” He turned away from Tim’s triumphant eyes. “I’ll just grab our trunks from Dick’s room. That’s what we were here for anyway.”

<><><><><>

“I can't breathe.” Tim whispered to Kon as they walked toward the indoor pool a short distance behind Marinette and Mar’i after having removed and stored everything but their swimsuits and towels. He now had an unobstructed view of Marinette in her bikini and his lungs were starting to rebel.

“You can breathe.” Kon rolled his eyes at Tim.

“No, no, I can't breathe.” Tim repeated, panic clear in his eyes.

“Tim, you can breathe. You're fine. Stop it.”

“No, really I can't. Look at her. I can't. I can't breathe. I'm going to pass out.” Tim stopped and bent over trying to gasp for breath.

“Well, that'll be sexy. I'm sure she'll go for that.” Kon responded calmly, continuing to walk forward without looking back.

Tim glared at him, focusing on his annoyance instead of Marinette until his breathing slowed down. It wasn’t enough that she was sweet and smart and strong and skilled, she had to be sexy too? It was just playing dirty, really.

He was finally brought out of his thoughts when he heard Mar’i, Marinette, and Kon laughing as they splashed Kon. He smiled at the scene. Marinette looked over at him with a brilliant smile, “You coming in?”

He smiled back at her, an edge of nervousness still present. He jumped into the pool, creating as big a splash as he could in the shallow water. Mar’i and Marinette giggled at the movement. Mar’i ran over to the kiddie slide to hide. Tim walked up behind Kon, keeping his eyes on Marinette, “Make sure I don't drown.”

Kon rolled his eyes but bumped his shoulder with his own. “I got your dork ass.”

“That’s all I ask.” Tim nodded at him solemnly, making his way over to Mar’i and Marinette.

“Since when,” Kon scoffed quietly, following him over.

“Look at the mermaids, Marinette! They’re like the mermaids from Peter Pan.” Mar’i grinned up at her, before her eyes grew wide. “We should play Peter Pan! Kon can be Peter and I can be Tinker Bell because we can fly.”

Kon’s eyes grew wide and he looked over to Tim in a panic, trying to catch his eye. Mar’i was revealing their secret to Marinette, but Tim wasn’t concerned at all. He understood Tim’s interest in her, but he knew better than to throw away their secret identities. Why wasn’t he reacting? Surely he wasn’t that far gone.

Marinette smiled at her and crouched down next to her, “but we don’t fly at the pool silly, we swim.” Kon stared at her and back to Tim. Did she… did she know? “But you can still be a fairy. Fairies don’t just fly, you know.” She leaned in as if to pass on an extremely important secret. “I should know, I’m best friends with a few.”

Mar’i considered her explanation and finally nodded in agreement. “I can be a swimming fairy!” She exclaimed excitedly. “And Marinette can be Wendy and Tim can be… Captain Hook!”

“Why am I the villain?” Tim asked with a mock pout.

“Because you’re important and all the other main people are taken.” She looked at him and cocked her head to the side, studying him carefully. “I guess you could be Michael…” she mused quietly. “He liked to pout a lot too.”

Tim’s mouth dropped in mock offense. Marinette tried to stifle her giggles but Kon flat out laughed hard enough he had doubled over. Tim collapsed on Marinette’s shoulder, needing the support after that blow to his ego. Well, he didn’t need to lean on her, but he did it anyway. With his head buried in his arm, he missed the way Marinette flushed deeply at the contact. Kon however, was front and center for it. He smirked at the reaction.

“How about we let Tim choose.” Marinette suggested instead, moving reluctantly away from Tim and his outrageously, unfairly toned, almost naked body. “He can be Hook, or Michael, or another fairy, or a mermaid, or… oooohhhh he could be the Tick Tock Croc and try to get us!”

Tim grinned maliciously “Tick” he said quietly crouching down low. “Tock” he moved closer to Mar’i who squealed in delight.

“Marinette save me! Save me!” She giggled trying to run to Marinette but falling in the water. She turned toward Tim, still in scrambling in the water, a smile on her face.

Marinette rushed over to her and grabbed her out of the water trying to back away from Tim who was still moving slowly toward them to the tune of “Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock”.

“He’s getting close!” Mar’i called loudly with a smile.

“Oh no!” Marinette grinned back at her before shifting her expression to mock seriousness. “Time for plan B. Kon, come take care of your man while I save the fairy.”

“Nuh uh,” Kon shook his head. “He’s not my man. I take no responsibilities for him outside of… uh… cases.” Kon quickly looked for a replacement for missions. “He’s totally up for grabs.” He winked at Marinette.

Marinette stared at him for a few seconds unsure of what he meant, trying to process what he said. Did he… did he mean they weren’t dating? Did Tim think they were but Kon didn’t? Oh God, poor Tim! She was shaken out of her thoughts by Mar’i shifting in her arms, “He’s almost got us!” she squealed.

Marinette turned back to Tim who was just a few feet away now and had dark pink dusting his cheeks for some reason, probably Kon saying they weren’t together. Her heart tightened in sympathy for him. But she wasn’t going to let Tim suffer. She was going to make this fun for him and distract him from what Kon had said. She gave Mar’i a determined look. “I’ll hold him off, Kon can save you. Kon, catch in 3, 2, 1.” She called to him before tossing Mar’i to him. Mar’i landed in the water just in front of Kon, whose arms were around her before her arms reached the water and pulling her up, her face set with an overjoyed expression.

“I’ve got you fairy princess,” Kon grinned at her. They both looked back to see Marinette trying to hold off Tim. He jumped at her, grabbing her around the waist as they fell into the water. She popped up out of the water and wiped the water out of her eyes. She looked around quickly to gain her bearings before seeing Tim who just emerged with a devious grin. She narrowed her eyes playfully and jumped toward him, putting her hands on his shoulders to push him down. Tim went under the water but pushed back up quickly, grabbing her around the waist again, lifting her out of the water and holding her so she couldn’t get him again. She giggled and squirmed in his arms before shifting her weight and twisting so she fell to the side, taking him with her. She pushed back up to the surface and turned to Kon and Mar’i, “Go! I don’t know how much longer I can distract h...” Tim grabbed her again before she could finish her sentence, swinging her around with a laugh she matched.

Kon leaned over to Mar’i’s ear. “I bet she could distract him for the rest of the day without even trying.”

Mar’i nodded at him completely missing the implication, “Yeah, she’s pretty entertaining and he always seems to get distracted by her. Not as much as her though. She’s always falling for him.” She shook her head at the memories. Her eyes suddenly lit up and she straightened up in Kon’s arms. “Oh, they should go on a date.”

Kon smiled conspiratorially at her, “We should work on that. We can come up with some ideas, but it will be a secret.” He held a finger to his lips.

Mar’i smiled back and nodded at him. “I won’t tell.”

They looked back over to Marinette and Tim in time to see Marinette slip on a slick patch of pool floor. Tim reached out to pull her back up, wiping the hair out of her eyes with a concerned look. Marinette flushed deeply at the contact. “I don’t think we’ll have to work that hard at all,” Kon commented with a smile.

Chapter 6

Tags:

@timari-month-event, @ichigorose @stainedglassm @better-toast @theymakeupfairies @trippingovermyfeet

#maribat #timari #timinette #timari january #Nannyette #prompt - Peter Pan/Neverland AU

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sirsapling · 4 years

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