#and then we cut to tim screaming in his sleep

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here friend, back to (continue to) bitch in your inbox. Just read @outrunningthedark's excellent comments on the sperm donor arc on my lunch break and felt the need to continue my tirade. I would add to her observations that, while we did see Buck break up with TayKay, it was over "drama" not a choice on Buck's part after really considering if he was happy (and why it fell so flat next to the eddieana breakup). Anyway when I left off I was bitching about how illogical the whole premise

of this arc was, and would have probably dropped my whinging over how nonsensical everything about it was if not for last episode. How the hell did we get from Buck saying "donor, not dad" to Hen in episode 3 to "I'm going to be a father" in the finale?? Is there some conversation that happened in KR's head she forgot to mention?? Because Buck seems pretty clear on what his role is in this whole process when talking to Hen, but now has done a 180 and is calling himself a dad. That's a pretty big leap, and while I agree Buck can get pretty enthusiastic or go overboard as part of his personality, he's not fucking naïve!! He knew then, and if he didn't, as you pointed out once, the mountain of paperwork he would have to sign to be a donor, that makes clear he's giving up all rights to that, sure as hell would!! So what changed, why is Buck suddenly convinced he's going to be playing a role in this kids life? More importantly, Eddie's snarky comment aside, why aren't his friends calling him out on this?? Again, this seems so contrived as a way to put Buck through the wringer at the expense of making him ignorant (what's that?? Oh, its the echoes of Michael Guerin's s4 plot). Anyway that wraps up both lunch and my bitching on this particular aspect of this dumb arc, next up we can talk about how there is no good way to wrap up this storyline or accomplish what KR supposedly wants (Buck's growth). Till later!!

Okay so first of all, I could have saved both of us some panic if I actually READ your ask thread instead of just the heading that comes across my notification because you clearly ended your last part saying it was the last part! 🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️ My B!

I’m glad we’re going to have another ask thread to talk about where this arc goes from here because the more I think about it and the more I read other people’s comments about it, more I become incandescently furious about the whole thing, especially in regards to what Buck is supposed to be getting out of this arc now that there is a baby. So it’s probably better that we haven’t gotten that far yet because right now my response would just be 

ANYWAY, at least on this point I have somewhat of an answer I think! It seems like KR misinterpreted the line in her interview because what I and may others heard (and I believe saw on their captions as well) was “I guess it’s easier when you can just say “I’m going to be a father”.” Meaning, Buck’s trying to figure out how to say “I got this lady pregnant” without implying he did anything with her or is actually the father.

Here’s the thing though. That....kinda makes it worse? If he’s already moved past his concerns and is accepting the “donor not dad” thing then....why is the arc not closed? If he’s already gotten to the acceptance part, why didn’t we see any of that happening? (Again, I have...MANY THOUGHTS about that possibly being the closure of the arc but that’s not the point right now.) More importantly, since this clearly ISN’T the closure of the arc, WHEN is Buck going to start questioning things? Because up until now, he’s been super chill about the whole thing and quite frankly, now that there is a baby it is TOO FUCKING LATE to say “actually, I don’t think I can do this”. So where can this even go? I’m interested to hear your thoughts and if they’ll help make mine any more coherent but I’m just baffled at what they think they are doing here. This arc has had ZERO tension once he said yes. No on has pulled him aside to have A Talk and tell him they have concerns, which would allow him to get defensive and maybe give us a peek at what’s going on in his head (a mystery for quite some time now), the couple came to yell at him at work, but we saw he wasn’t trying to back out or even having concerns so it wasn’t anything, we haven’t seen him struggling or having second thoughts, just totally on board with the whole thing. So....what? The baby dies? Hard pass. The couple ghosts him? Buck gets left behind again. Shocker. He suddenly realizes he can’t have a baby and not be involved? Tough fucking luck, it’s happening and you can’t back out now. What is he gonna do, sue for custody/visitation rights? 

I know I said we were gonna talk about it later and we WILL, but just a thought to percolate on here, what is Buck supposed to learn from this storyline? Because the options are...limited.

a) It’s okay for people to use you for parts and you need to be more accepting of that and just be happy you were able to help them. Yeah, that’s the OPPOSITE of the less Buck as a character needs to learn.

b) That he’s just better off as “fun Uncle” and is totally cool knowing there’s a kid out there that’s his and he doesn’t need to be involved/is okay just getting cards and maybe sending a few gifts over the years/maybe kids aren’t for him? Again, NOTHING that fits with the character OR what the character needs to grow. His whole story has been about finding love and building a family and having people who will stay. Does he HAVE to have a biological child to make that happen? No, but HAVING a biological child and walking away because he’s “learned” he doesn’t need one to be happy doesn’t fit for him either. If he struggled and walked away BEFORE donating, they could go that route, but even still, for what we know of his character, I think having a child that’s his could be something important for him (one of the reasons I love a “Buck is asked if he wants to formally adopt Chris” arc in fics, because Buck really needs to know that he is tied to people), and brushing it off AFTER a baby is already on the way doesn’t really work.

c) That he isn’t ready to be a dad yet, and needs tp practice being on the sidelines of a child’s life? Not only does he have a niece for that, we have literally seen him “practicing” with Chris since season 2! 

Please, tell me where else this story could go? Because you know those two random side character completely divorced from the first responder world aren’t going to just be major fixtures in Buck’s life, hanging around. We didn’t even get to hear about Bobby’s sponsor who has been instrumental in his recovery and is besties with the whole Grant-Nash family, until two minutes before he was killed off. 

Anyway, gotta stop now and go watch some other show for a bit before I start eating drywall about this. Can’t wait to hear more of your thoughts my friend! This hiatus is going to be rough I think....

[deadsetobsessions]

“Did this place pick up a ghost when I was dead or something?”

Tim whipped his head towards Jason, who looked mildly perturbed.

“You too?!” Tim demanded.

“What?”

“The ghost! I kept thinking it was a hallucination, you know? But even when I laid off of the caffeine, there’d be a fucking shadow at the edge of my vision! At night! You saw it too, right?” Tim rambled, increasingly agitated. “It even moves the fucking coffee mugs! I know where I left my favorite mug, and it sure as hell wasn’t in the sink!”

Jason blinked at him, face morphing into concern.

“Replacement, when was the last time you got some sleep?”

Tim inhaled. “Jason, I swear to god I will replace all of the shampoo in your twenty six safe houses with glitter glue if you don’t tell me whether you saw it or not.”

Jason nodded immediately. In his defense, Tim grew up to be a scary motherfucker. Diabolical little shit would have been a fucking terrifying villain.

“I knew it.”

——

Danny hummed. Tim was going to freak when he found his cowl three inches to the left.

He merrily avoided all of the set up cameras by simply going invisible and intangible, save for his arms that he uses to sweep the cowl to the side.

He could hear the static on the cameras. Danny grinned. Operation Gaslight, Ghostkeep, Girlboss is on.

——

“Tim-” Dick started, only to be cut short by Tim whirling around and jabbing a painful finger into his chest.

“You owe me this, for that Arkham comment when B went missing.”

Dick raised his hands in surrender, guilt flaring.

“Drake, what kind of pointless scheme are you getting us in, now?”

“Not now, demon brat.” Jason elbows the kid. “Just go along with it.”

“Look.”

“Well. I guess we were right, yeah, Tim?” Duke muttered, eyeing the moved cowl. “My ghost-sight isn’t seeing anything. Not even wind movement.”

“What’s going on, boys?”

“B, there’s a ghost in the manor.”

“He’s freaking out because it moved his coffee mug like three times.” Steph chimed in.

——

“Danny?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you seen anything weird, lately?”

Danny tilted his head. “No…?”

“Not even in the house?” Jason asked.

“Shadows? Anything?” Dick asked, eye bags prominent on the normally exuberant man. Danny snickered inwardly. They’ve been up for three days trying to “catch” the ghost.

“Uh. I mean the floorboards creak sometimes? But in terms of shadows… I think I saw them outside? Kind of looked like Batman, actually. But my eyesight gets bad at night. Why?”

Danny could see in the dark just fine.

“Nothing! Let me know if you see anything, okay?”

“Uh. Sure? Maybe you guys should… get some sleep?”

“Uh-huh.”

The bats file out of his room.

——

Danny locked glowing green eyes with Tim and Dick. He did some quick thinking and contorted his ectoplasm into something more grotesque.

“Kkkhggggghkkkkeeee!!!” He screeched.

“AHHHHHHHHHH!” The two of them screamed, both bolting and throwing things at him. It was impressive how fast they backpedaled.

“That was close,” Danny muttered. He quickly scribbled on Damian’s whiteboard with conspiracy theories and dipped before the rest of the bats came thundering.

He fell into a light sleep just as Stephanie checked up on him, work done.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny's Grill Part 2

Special thanks to @mkarchin713 for letting me use their idea.

Tim's night had been hectic.

Not only have things at WE taken a turn for the worst due to some random influencer that decided Wayne Enterprises was the cause of global warming and convinced all his fans of the same- despite the fact they were the nation's leading company in green energy- sales have been down.

The board was breathing down his neck to fix the stocks while being no help at all to get the youth back on their side. He's already pulled twelve hours of overtime this week and it was only Wednesday.

He's been dealing with the PR nightmare while trying to get to the bottom of data theft across multiple big-name technology companies. Reports of scams and total funds lost were reported all through Gotham and only his city.

Tim suspects someone had been planting screen recording devices in one of Gotham's shipping factories before they left the buildings, stealing all the information from new buyers.

Since his theory is so hard to trace, he's been having difficulty pinpointing the base of operations, never mind having enough proof for his thesis. After Bruce's lost-in-time fiasco, Tim learns to have evidence before going to the family with anything.

So that means he's been trying to fight his way on his own, which usually isn't too much to handle, but stress and lack of sleep have really been slowing him down.

Thankfully, a specific food truck appears in his line of sight, and his mood improves drastically. He finds a safe roof to quickly change into his civilians, already fantasizing about what delicious food he would eat.

Dressed in his typical Alvin Draper disguise- black, almost second-skin tights and an oversized sweater- he all but skips to Danny's Grill.

"Night, Danny," He says, smiling at the back of the chef. He leans on the little extended table outside the truck's small window. He takes a sniff of the air, mouth watering at the scent.

Looks like tonight is cheeseburgers, as Danny carefully flips some patties. Danny whirls around with a smile of his own, only to drop the spatula in horror.

"Alvin! What happened!?" Danny shouts, nearly flinging himself through the tiny opening. The vigilante blinks in confusion before catching his reflection in the napkin dispenser.

In his haste to have some of Danny's food, he forgot to cover up a black eye, swollen right cheekbone, and busted lip from his last faulty lead. A goon had gotten him by surprise and had nearly rearranged his face before he was able to get his wits about him.

"Nothing, really; it comes with the job, you know?" Tim tries to play off, laughing nervously when Danny's expression crumbles into pure rage. "Look, it's no big deal-"

"How can it not be a big deal!? Half your face is swollen!"

That happens when someone hits you with a metal pipe in the face. He thinks hysterically. "I've had worse."

"That's not comforting!" Danny screams, throwing off his apron. "Let me close down, and I'll take you to a doctor-"

"No hospitals. They'll ask where I got this, and I can't answer that." Tim cuts in, voice hard. There is a tense moment where he thinks Danny will force him to go anyway, but after a moment the other man growls slamming his hands on the counter.

"Fine. Fine. No hospitals. At least let me ice it." It takes everything in Tim not to shrink back from the hateful tone. He barely has the mind to nod as Danny quickly unlocks the little door that leads into his truck, ushering the Bat inside with barely controlled rage.

He knows it's not aimed at him, but being around someone so upset makes his skin crawl. Tim has problems with offending people; his parents had been masters in drilling into him from a young age.

That's why Tim always sought the approval of everyone around him, even if he couldn't stand the person.

He has been working on it, but old habits died hard.

"Sorry." He mumbles as Danny quickly gets a zippy bag full of ice.

"Don't. Apologize." Danny bites before taking a large breath, clearly trying to calm down. He gently places the ice against Tim's cheek, staring at him with such tender worry Tim can't help but feel butterflies. "You don't have to apologize for getting roughed up. Never. Okay?"

Tim nods, shyly looking away as his stomach is rapidly overrun by even more butterflies. "Okay."

"Come home with me." Danny suddenly blurts as if the words were forced out of him. He looked just as surprised by them as Tim was.

"What?"

"Just for tonight. Just so I know you're safe." Danny all but pleas, and Tim- well, Tim has never been known to be strong enough to resist his impulses. Sure, the family might worry, but he can send them a message claiming to be undercover, and frankly- it's been so long since Tim's had a break.

He's always wanted to know more about Danny outside his food truck. He hadn't been able to find much on him. Tim is a detective by heart. He wants to know everything there is to know about Danny Fenton.

"I can leave when I want." He says, as Danny carefully places a warm hand on his other cheek. "And I sleep in my own space. No bed sharing. I also want to take a shower but I don't have anything to sleep in."

"You can borrow something of mine/ Whatever you need." The words are practically a warm hug, and Tim feels relaxed. Already the shitty week feels less terrible, and he finds himself growing bold enough to take an obvious sniff of the air.

"Can I have a burger?"

There is a hint of an amused smile, but it does not cover up the worry. "Of course you can."

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

The shower is running in Danny's house.

It's a bit out of the way, about a forty-minute drive outside of Gotham limits, but it's spacious and private, just the way Danny liked it.

Ever since he inherited his title, he's found this house on the list of properties, and that was why he chose to take Gotham by storm in his little truck.

Danny isn't really sure what the story of the property was- the suspects the place was built around the same time Gotham got its curse; seeing as it was overseeing the city and had enough natural ectoplasm in the air, he would suspect the curse affecting the town lead to here. He never cared to check.

No, rather Danny had some ghosts remodel the old building to include wiring and functioning plumbing but asked that the general overall of the mansion stay the same.

He sort of like pretending to be a Lord of the Oldden days. If anyone asked if he walked around acting out old romances of the Victorian era, that was not else business but his own.

Alvin was undoubtedly impressed when they pulled up to his house. Maybe it shouldn't have felt so prideful to have the handsome man be impressed with his mansion given the circumstances.

He seemed to accept the excuse of having been willed the house by his late grandfather. He just hoped Alvin didn't think him the same as his wealthy clients.

Speaking of, he better make the call before Alvin finished.

Stepping to his balcony, he pulled out his burner phone and pressed the speed dial five. There are four rings before the call connects.

He gets no greeting, but he's not expecting one. Danny looks over his shoulder to ensure the bathroom door is connected to the master room- his bedroom, where Alvin will be staying, seeing as it has a bigger fireplace. He needs to have them install a heating system. Danny never bothered, what with his ice core and all- before he spoke.

"Hey, Red Hood, it's Danny. I'm calling in that favor."

There is a long pause before the other man grunts. "What is it?"

"My friend is a pro whose pimp or johns have been abusing lately. Can you help me....take care of the issue? I don't want to overstep in his life, but I'm pretty sure they broke his check bone tonight, and he claimed to have had worse before." Danny sighs, his stomach overturning at what that could mean. He hasn't gone out as Ghost King to show those assholes a thing or two because this isn't his haunt.

It's Red Hood's.

Danny had met the other man when a rouge attack had busted up all the main highways he usually worked in and had no choice but to try to sell in Crime Alley. He was right off the territory's edge, freaking out about entering without the main ghost's permission, until Red Hood confronted him.

Danny's frantic fretting had been suspicious enough that the main honcho had gone to find out why he was so nervous.

They worked a deal where Danny would sell his ware in peace, and as long as he let kids eat for free, Red Hood had no quarrels with him. He even got a favor from the crime lord after Danny provided free meals to some of his men's families struggling to get food a few months back.

He also allowed Hood to use his house as a safe house to hide a few people who needed to be out of the city. Is he part of Red Hood's gang? No.

Is he an alley? Yes.

Danny had been saving the favor for such an occasion.

There is silence on Hood's side, so Danny goes in for the kill. "My friend is seventeen; in a few months, he'll be eighteen, but he said he has been doing this since he was younger."

The silence is now laced with malice. If there was one thing they both agreed on it was that kids were never meant to be hurt by the scum of the city. "Give me his name and the area he usually works in."

"Alvin Draper. He changes per night, but I've often seen him on the east side of Crime Alley."

"I'll look into it. Is Alvin safe?"

"Yeah, he's going to be staying with me tonight. Don't come by until I convince him to extend his stay." Danny knows Hood will understand. This is one of many pros to see the Zone- his mansion's name- as a sanctuary.

"That's fine. Can you get me a picture of Alvin?"

"No, he's too skimmish."

Hood grunts again, his voice coming out tired despite the voice monitor. "Kids always are. I'll have my boys find Alvin's primp and johns. Ensure there aren't any other younglings before they make them swim with the fish."

Danny almost falls over in relief. "Thank you. Alvin...Alvin means a lot to me."

" Don't mention it. Stay well, Victorian."

Victorian is the code name Hood has given him to ensure Danny isn't tired of his gang. Yes, it's because his house is a Victorian mansion, but Danny also likes to think it's cause the other man appreciates the aesthetics of his house a little too much.

He once caught Hood admiring his Pride and Prejudice hardcover book displayed in his green sitting room.

"You too Hood. And thank you."

How would he convince Alvin that his house was a better place to call home than the orphanage and street corners without coming off as a wannabe savior or hopelessly in love creep?

Danny pauses at his own train of thought.

Hopelessly in love? He thinks in shock as the bathroom door swings open, and out comes Alvin, dressed in Danny's extra pajama set. He offers Danny a shy smile; even with the injuries, it is the loveliest sight he's ever seen, and- oh no, Danny is in love with him.

"You up for a late-night snack?" He asks, trying to not show the world-shattering realization on his face, and Alvin's smile grows wider.

"You're going to make me fat." The other laughs. Danny's heart skips a beat.

Danny Fenton loves Alvin Draper and will do everything he can to protect him. Even if Alvin will hate him for it.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

I'm obsessive over my Constantine Jr Au (which still needs a fic name for, I'm open to suggestions) because

this is a cranky danny. he's spent years fighting with no end in sight, with parents who he can't trust and his only companions never truly understanding what he's going through.

he vapes CBD for the pain he's constantly in. he drank alco/hol once to help him sleep, but his parents smelt it on his breath and, just like with their research, took that to believe EVERYTHING they'd ever suspected about danny to be true: that he drinks, he does dru/gs, he's in a gang. the only thing they've never suspected their son of--being a ghost--is the one thing he actually does.

then, right on the cusp of eighteen and freedom, he gets outed. AND transformed into a seven-year-old.

this is not a danny who is willing to play at being a child. and if anyone tries to, they're in for a foul time.

Danny was 17, transformed into a 7 year old and hides in Bludhaven, and is 8 when the police finally figure out that, hey, this weird kid who keeps altering us to crime scenes is usually right on the money about who the killer is, we should investigate that. Officer Grayson is on the case!

And discovers that he absolutely can't STAND this kid.

He thought he liked kids! Everyone thought he liked kids! but this kid...

This isn't called the Constantine Jr AU because Danny is a supernatural detective, or because Danny might be Constantine's kid. Its because Danny is an unrepentant little bas/tard and he makes it everyone's problem.

Danny vapes and blows bubblegum smoke in Grayson's face.

He takes out a flask and Grayson's grabs it, learning its full of orange juice. Danny then takes out a second flask, this one with vod/ka.

He wears a trenchcoat he found in the trash (the same trenchcoat Nightwing wears in DC vs Vampires, if you know you know) but the end and the sleeves are cut off for his hands and legs. the pockets are roughly around his knees.

Grayson is desperate to figure out more about this kid, but he doesn't go to batman because, time-line wise, this is right before red hood starts running around. Jason is dead/alive-in-hiding, Tim is Robin, and Dick is mad about it. (ages-- Bruce: ? Nightwing: 24 Jason: 19 Tim: 15 Danny: 8 Damien: 7-8)

he doesn't really bond with the kid until they're both kidnapped by a gang for hostages, and Danny's big kid emotions get a hold of him (he thought he could escape them bc he's an adult, he's gone through worse, but nope! child brain chemistry). Grayson is worried that he's hurt and in pain, but Danny confesses that he's always in pain. he has nerve damage all over his body, and the only thing he really trusts is CBD. He feels like shit for taking his juul away, but more importantly, because he's been treating Danny like a irritant and just a little kid.

they get rescued and Grayson tries to take him back to his home, but Danny reveals he's homeless, saying something like "I sleep where it suits me, just drop me off whereever."

Absolutely not, Grayson is taking kid back to his place for a bed, food, and a shower, in whatever order the kid wants.

Danny stays semi-perminantly at his apartment, but Nightwing tries not to push it, because this kid practically screams flight risk. unfortunately, the paparazzi have nothing better to do and snap a pick of Grayson and Danny getting dinner together, speculating that Dick's taken after Bruce

Danny doesn't care too much; I think his ghost form is the same, if glitchy, so his parents don't know about the deaging. Grayson is mildly panicking, but its not like he HASN'T been considering adopting the evil troglodyte. Even Bruce, Tim, and Alfred aren't the problem.

No, the problem is the Red Hood, a crime boss who just cut 8 people's heads off, seeing what looks like Nightwing pulling an innocent kid into the neverending fight against crime and Seeing Green.

Edit: Had to censor sh!t because ths wasn't showing up in the tags

[selfloverrrrrr]

Yours' ~

Warning: smut, heavy smut, noncon, unprotected sex, age gap, drugging, beating, kidnapping.....

Masterlist

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Me and satoru were married from one month now. We loved each other so much. He was a man who fullfill every wishes of mine. He proposed me....we were in a relationship. After a year of relationship we finally got married.

It was a normal day. Gojo wasn't home. He went to koyto for three days for some mission related things. I was missing him so much. Then got an idea. I smirked at myself and got up from my bed.

I went to the closet and took out the sexy black lingerie I wore some days ago and wore it. Went towards the mirror and took a mirror selfie. Send it to Gojo saying miss you. As expected he started drooling over text. I was smiling at those texts from him when the doorbell rang.

I threw the phone on the bed and quickly wore my house coat and went to the door. I opened the door. There was a man standing there. Black long hair, sharp eyes and that noticeable bang. "Yes...?" I spoke. "Hello" he said with a close eyed smile.

"umm... hello.... you want something?" I asked. " You don't know me?" He asked. "...no? Who are you?" I asked. " So Satoru didn't mentioned me to you.... I see" he spoke and smirked. I felt something uncomfortable. "If you are here for him...he isn't here" I said and closed the door on his face but grabbed the door and pushed it. " Oh I know that " he said.

He get inside and closed the door. I panicked. "What the fuck... what do you want???!!!" I said. "You'll know soon" he replied. I run towards the bed grabbed my phone, called gojo and run to the bathroom. I heard that he was coming towards me. I didn't even realise when he grabbed me from behind. "Satoru please pick up the phone!!?!" I scremed. That guy grabbed my phone cut the call and threw it on the floor. I panicked. " Now..... sleep well" he said with a smile and put a piece of cloth on my nose. And I fainted.

*Some time later*

*knock knock* "y/n-saan?" Yuji called "Gojo sensei told me to give you these flowers". No response. "Y/n-saan?.... open the door" Yuji said and grabbed the door knob. The door was open. "Y/n-saan?" Again...no response. He went inside and saw I wasn't there. He called Gojo and explained everything and that he found my broken phone on the bathroom floor.

*After some time Gojo return*

He saw everything there and that I also called him. He cursed himself for not picking up the call. Suddenly something Caught his attention. A paper? He opened the paper and his heart skipped a beat.

*On the other side*

I woke up slowly. Couldn't recognise the place. I was laying on a bed. My house coat was...gone? I looked at my body I was just wearing that lingerie. Suddenly heard a voice "what?... shoked?" I spinned my head and saw that long haired guy again. He smirked and climbed the bed. He was so close to me. "W-who....who are you!!??" I asked. He was about to answer when his phone rang.

He smirked looking at the phone screen. " You husband is calling me ~" he said, picked up the call and put it on speaker. "Ah ~ Satoru....long time no see..." He said.

Gojo: shut up those bullshit....where is she?

Geto: oh... infront of me...

Gojo: don't do any-

Geto: on the bed.... wearing the sexy lingerie which she wore for you....

Gojo: Suguru don't...

Geto: what?... I respect your choice Satoru.... Your choices are still gorgeous.... and soft *Geto rubbed his hand on one of my breast and I moaned "s-stop"*

Gojo: Suguru!

Geto: WHAT??? DIDN'T WE SHARED EVERYTHING IN BACK THOSE DAYS??? NOW WHAT'S THE PROBLEM FOR SHARING THIS????

Gojo: Suguru I said don't!

Geto: tsk...I don't care. You know what? When I was at your house to kidnap her.... She was screaming you name for help.... Unlucky girl...you weren't there...

Gojo: *his heart almost stopped* Suguru don't

Geto: please Satoru... you are wasting my time... Now end the call and let me enjoy YOUR toy.... I'll be gentle if she's a sorcerer but...if she's like those other monkeys *smirked* you know....

*End the call*

Gojo: NO! NOOOOO!.... HELLO??? SUGURU???? DON'T DO ANYTHING WITH HER!!!!!!!

SHITTTT!!!!! *Gojo screamed with frustration*

Geto end the call and threw his phone. " So... where were we?" He spoke "ah yeah... you were asking me who am I....my name is Geto. Suguru Geto. Your husband's one time bestfriend." He said stroking my hair. "Please.... please let me go" I said with teary eyes. "Tsk... That's not what I planned... Now tell me can you see anything behind me?" He asked. He bring there a curse which I couldn't see. "Answer" he said. "N-no" I said. He smirked. " As I thought.... You are like those monkeys...but a gorgeous one" he said, bring his face to mine and kissed me.

I tried to push him away but his grip was too strong. I can't even move myself. He was kissing me too roughly. I couldn't breathe. He grabbed my lingerie and tore it. His eyes traveled my whole body." You know... Satoru is selfish... He kept you all by himself" He said and looked at those with lust in his eyes and didn't waste any time, crashed his mouth on my breast licking, sucking and teasing the nipple and squeezing the other one with his hand. I moaned in the sensetion. I grabbed his hair and tried to stop him by pulling it but it didn't even effect on him. "P-please stopppp" I scremed but he didn't stop.

He looked at my pussy. He rubbed his finger on my clit and whispered " so wet. You naughty little slut, dripping like a whore~". Then he licked my pussy. I couldn't help but moan loudly. He smirked at my reaction and undo his pant.

His dick sprang out. It was too big and too thick. Fear grabbed me by my neck. " no no no... P-please no... s-stop" I begged but didn't even listen to me and slammed his whole dick inside me in one slide. I scremed. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thursting in and out roughly. I was throughig my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he was licking it so much. His thurst became harder and harder. I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight ..... Oh god a perfect whore" he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thurst I came. He was still thursting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength. I was screaming for him to stop. He grabbed my throat and chocked me down to the bed. " Shhh.... shut up and just fucking take it like a fucking slut you are!!!" He screamed. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out.

He got up wore his clothes then looked at me. " When your husband come here don't forget to tell him how much I make you feel good" he said and get out from there. I was sobbing there on the bed. After an hour finally Gojo came there. He rushed into the room. "I knew it...he was going to be here!" He whispered and run towards me. His heart stopped seeing me fully naked on the bed sobbing. That happened what he was sceared about. He came close and hugged me. "I'm sorry.... I'm so sorry .... It's my fault...all my fault" he cried. I hugged him back still crying. "I-It's... it's not your fault" I whispered. " No it is! I should have picked up your call... If I was with you this won't happened... please please.... please forgive me... I'll.... I'll find him... and let him pay for this!!!!...." He hugged me tightly. I returned the hug still tears in my eyes.

Masterlist

Give me your requests guys...

I love when you give me your requests<3

[bullet-prooflove]

The Deepest Cut: John Nolan x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @ravennaortiz @anime-weeb-4-life @trublu2u @hellostickerdoodle

Companion piece to Scars - John loves you and all your scars.

The night John intends to break up with Grace is the night that Rosalind Dyer takes you. John discovers this when he comes home from his shift to find a parcel containing an encrypted cell phone on his doorstep and the necklace you always wear around your throat.  

I’ve taken the person you love John, and we both know I’m not talking about the woman you sleep next to, reads the note she left him.

His heart stops as he reads the note, the paper crumpling in his fist. The thought of you at Rosalind’s mercy turns his stomach because that woman…

She doesn’t have a shred of it.

It’s a couple of hours later that the video call comes through to cell phone she’d left for him. At first the only thing he can see is you. You’re wearing a black dress that leaves little to the imagination, your hair falling across your face in loose waves. In any other circumstance he’s be blown away but there’s silver duct tape slapped over your mouth and your wrists are bound behind your back to the chair you’re situated in.

It's the look in your eyes that gives him hope because Christ, you’re furious.

“She was going on a date John.” Rosalind tells him as she brushes a strand of hair back behind your ear. You flinch at her touch and she tuts, gripping your chin in her hand before she holds up the knife for you both to see. It glints wickedly in the light overhead. “She was trying to forget you. I’m going to make sure she never will.”

The first cut is down your cheek, she presses the point just underneath the socket of your eye before she drags the blade down. The skin splits open underneath the metal and blood runs down the apple of your cheek like a tear.

John will never forget the sound you make, that violent, muffled scream, the ragged breathing that follows as Rosalind chases away the droplet with her thumb. It doesn’t stop there, Rosalind spends the next few hours taking you apart right before his eyes.

“Tell her the truth John.” Rosalind goads him as she inflicts another cut, another slash. You’re a bloody mess by now, your skin stained with burgundy, the dress soaked in it. “She’ll die not knowing John, do you want that?”

No, he doesn’t. If this is the end he wants you to know exactly how he feels. He hopes that it will bring you comfort, that it will give you strength to keep fighting because Grey and Tim, they’re coming for you, all you need to do is hold on.

“I love you Becca.” John chokes out, his voice breaking. “I always have.”

Love John? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[solar-wing]

⚣ BatBro Incorrect Quotes: TikTok 🤳🏻

⚣⏰ A/N → Literally in the middle of brainstorming and writing the 100-follower Conner Kent fic, and this came to mind. If it's good or not, I'm sorry, I just had to get it out. Thank you for understanding.

⚣⏰ Summary → BatBro has introduced TikTok to the Wayne Family...

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🤳🏻

BatBro: And if you let that motherfucker Shanon once, best believe they gonna Shenanigan.

Source: Mya Monaco

Cass: Is Being Gay An Illness?

Cass: Yes, it is. How come every time I kiss a girl, my stomach hurts?

Dick: Those are butterflies.

Cass: Well, they're gay too.

Source: Farha Khalidi

Stephanie: He is not the love of your life!

Stephanie: He is literally just a guy!!

Stephanie: HIT HIM WITH YOUR CAR!

Source: chrissy

Damian: Why do you hoes act like if yeen ain't in no relationship, you gon die? Y'all be weak in the knees. Stand up! STAND UP!

Source: Leezy V

*BatBro with Jason in his weekly therapy session*

Jason: I was silent, ummm...

BatBro👓: Were you silent, or were you silencedSST?

Jason: ...

Jason: The latter.

Source: Beni2.0

Dick: I'm sorry. Not everybody fits in the bad bitch JAN-RAH. IT'S A JAN-RAH. Not everybody fits on the RAS-STA.

Source: Ms.PressureCooker

White people chillen in their house:

*Silence*

Black people chillen in their house:

*Silence*

*Beep*

Duke: I don't know why, but I am offended.

*Beep*

Duke:😯

Source: shaelovve

*Damian chastises his siblings*

Damian: Stop acting like a fucking hooligan! I know your momma raised you in a barn, but around these parts, we have some decorum, okay.

Source: KHAENOTBAE

Jason: No! Hear me out!

Jason: Why would I write the two essays that I had due 38 minutes ago rather than catch up on my fanfiction?

Jason: A bitch can not be academically sound AND lonely!

Jason: I can't where–I can't wear both of those hats. I'm gonna read a fanfiction in 20,000 words or less by a 15-year-old named Sarah who likes Supernatural. I'm gonna do that.

Source: anania

*Tim hanging out with BatBro and Conner*

Tim: And I ain't never seen three pretty best friends.

Tim: It's always two of them motherfuckers gotta be gay.

BatBro:*screams*

Conner: cUt ThE cAMeRaS!

Source: reganladd

*Bruce tells Tim he needs to get more sleep*

Tim: Duh! DUUUUHHH!!! Okay, duuuuuhhh!

Tim: You. Stupid! FUCK!!!

Source: HRH Memes

Jason: Therapy isn't enough. I need to punch that bitch today. Tomorrow is never promised.

*Walks aggressively towards Bruce's office with Wii Sports fencing music playing*

Source: B. Lee

*BatBro threatening Conner forgetting the Kryptonian is bigger and stronger than him*

BatBro: How you gon snap my neck off? Bitch, you weigh 95 pounds. I'm 5'8 almost 200 pounds. You can't snap my muthafuckin neck off, bitch. You'll be dead by the time you think about snapping my neck off, bitch.

Source: KB AND KARLA

BatBro: It is OTOM🍂. *pose✨*

🐦:*squeak*

BatBro: ¡Callate!

BatBro: My husband is cutting the backyard. So I decided to bless him with my company, even though he DOES NOT deserve me.

*walks in Spanish*

BatBro: I HAVE ARRIVED! 👑

*Conner used to these antics but still looking confused*

*BatBro stands in glam while Conner continues mowing the lawn*

BatBro: Good job!

*glam*

BatBro: Yeah, that's enough.

Source: SHIADANNI

*arguing with BatBro*

Damian: Next time you fucking put your hands on me, I'ma fucking rip off your face, bitch!

Dick: What did he do?

Damian: CAUSE HE FUCKING PUSHED ME...

Source: Nikkibussy084

☀️ | Bat Family | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[0bticeo]

j. sims, e. bouchard | knowledge is a double-edged sword

part two of four. (part one.) (part 3.) (part four.)

summary:

a low hum. there’s something sharp in elias' smile. his gaze feels like it’s cutting you open. you hold your ground, unblinking, watching him and his annoyingly handsome face. 

“you’re wearing a mask, dear.”

“aren’t we all?”

wc. 3k

tw. reader's creeping paranoia, shockinlgy nothing smutty happens in this chapter, manipulation, graphic description of eyes, mild ptsd, nightmares, elias bouchard being a creep.

working in the archives has always been… a little off, for a lack of a better word. you are supposed to research and archive statements regarding “supernatural happenings” in a world where said supernatural has been swiped under the carpet, dismissed with a haughty scoff. still, it pays well. which is why you find yourself clocking in day after day. 

your colleagues… you don’t know what to make of them. not really. sasha’s been… off. you think there’s a void in the shape of her roaming about the place. she’s calm and focused. formal. has trouble logging in her computer - that’s… not right.

martin seems to be taking it well enough for someone who’s spent the past two months sleeping in the archives and then getting attacked by worms. sounds silly. definitely wasn’t. you think there’s much, much more to him than meets the eye and and accept the cups of coffee he hands you with a warm smile. you mean them. you like martin. his poetry a bit less. 

tim… is silent. he’s lost his smile. you haven’t fallen victim to one of his pranks in ages and fear you won’t ever have to worry about a sketchy statement being one of his little jokes. you feel anger bubbling inside of him at the mere mention of having to work in the archives. yet…

yet he’s helping you. 

the library is a quiet affair, the muted sort of silence that hangs like a comforting blanket over your shoulders. dust flutters away in the air, drawn by your steps. tim’s sigh cuts through the silence like a knife.

“why are we doing this again?”

you tuck back a book in its shelf. thankfully, not a leitner. still, nothing to do with architecture.

“because it is our job, tim.”

he scoffs.

“yeah, right. i wasn’t aware it involved risking my life.”

“look, you’re not forced to help me. if it makes you feel better to slack off, then i’m not stopping you.”

he laughs, mocking, almost cruel. the pressure at the back of your neck is near unbearable. you want to scream. you want to tear something apart.

“look at you! acting like everything’s normal! three months ago, you were bleeding out on my lap! how can you-”

“it’s either i focus on something else or i go mad.” you snap a book shut with a sharp intake of air. “you won’t like me mad, tim. now shut up and help me find robert smirke’s books, will you? i’m pretty sure they were there, but-”

his hand clasps around your wrist. 

“hold on. why are you looking for smirke’s books?”

“follow up on a statement involving urbex in the former church of saint james in west hackney. built by, you guessed it, robert smirke himself.”

you watch a flash of… something in his eyes. it looks like guilt in mourning, and you’re itching to pry, pry him open and unearth whatever secrets he keeps buried under a thick layer of good humour turned bitter. 

“it should be around here.”

you end up with three heavy volumes in hand, none of which feel like they’ll help with erin gallagher-nelson’s statement. then, something catches your attention. a small leather volume, tucked away behind the books you’re currently holding. tim’s already on his way out, much to your chagrin. you don’t feel too guilty when you reach for the small little book and tuck away those he’s helped you find, neatly ordered in their rightful place.

the little book in your hand is… not a leitner, which is a relief as you are not wearing gloves. no, it’s bound leather, with no title in sight. you open it, carefully, cradling it against your breast like something fragile, and cast your gaze upon its first page. the juts out in ink far too dark for its age.

the fears that bind us.

turn another page and see the summary. fourteen entries, neatly labelled. the Web. the Dark. the Spiral. the Buried. you pause.

the pinprick pain at your neck sharpens. you’re Watched. there’s nobody but you in the library, but there’s something, watching, always watching, and you can make eyes in the corners of the shelves and they’re peering down at you and they Know you’re starting to suspect something’s terribly wrong with this place and-

thud.

the book falls from your trembling hands. dust rises up, clings to the hem of your trousers. you stare at the dull, unassuming little leather cover and feel its magnetic pull. you Know there’s more to it than it lets on. you pick it up.

(somewhere, the chittering mass of the many-legged mother of puppets spins a chain of events into motion, weaving a pretty plan.)

*

these days, stepping in the institute feels like being strapped down to a vivisection table and having your brain prodded at. it’s oppressive. you become aware of just how many eyes there are in the institute. coworkers from other departments glancing disinterestedly at you. strange motives in the nooks and crannies of the wooden doors and shelves and corridors and floors, eyes half-lidded. pictures and their faded edges, you, tim, martin, jon and sasha (?) huddling close, smiling. portraits - jonah magnus, high and mighty, immortalised in his seat of power. you think his painted lips are curled up a little more than they normally are. you’ve seen that floating smile before.

you take to having your lunch outside of the institute. you find you can breathe easier through the sharp cold of london’s winter air. needle-sharp, it pierces your lungs, scrapes your throat with every mouthful of curry you swallow. you don’t mind. you have jon to huddle close to, no matter how much he rolls his eyes and tells you to take a warmer coat with you. still, he wraps his arm around you and intertwine his fingers with yours.

tim and martin make no comment - you do feel the weight of their gaze on your shoulders as you make your way back to your desk ten minutes sharp after jon comes back to his office. doesn’t matter. by now, you’re used to being watched.

you’re growing tired of it.

going home is no relief - that damned gaze is there, too. you clench your teeth and turn all the mirrors around and tuck away what little pictures you have. your breathing stutters in your throat. there’s a cork board on your wall, now, and you think of the one that lies in jon’s office, red strings stretching and stretching and it still doesn’t make sense. not yet. 

gertrude’s dead - somebody’s murdered her, three bullets, bang, the body falls, bang, bang just to make sure the old bat is dead, a waste of an Archivist. 

jon wants to know who. he tells you, fingers threading through his hair, tape recorder still running, that it could be anyone at that’s been working at the institute since five years. you’ve been hired two years ago, so you’re good, but tim? martin? sasha? elias?

(you’ve pressed your lips to jon’s and sworn to help him, forehead pressed against him in the sweetest oath.)

there are scraps of hastily jotted down notes, pictures faded at the edges. recurring people from statements - gerry keay, michael shelley, simon fairchild, prentiss, salesa. hilltop road. recurring themes, artefacts you took pain to research, asking sasha for help - she did work in artefact storage before, right?

(her smile was sharp when she nodded. too sharp. she laughed as she led you to the basement floor, something like a deadly private joke. you didn’t ask for her help again.)

you take a step back and stare at the board. the strings make no sense, red over red over red, and you have an eye staring back at you, unblinking, thread burned in your retina. 

smirke’s book lies open on your couch. your cat wisely stays away from it. you’ve named him socrates for a reason. you wish you could be blessed with the sage’s foresight.

fears bind you. there’s a classification, Entities that sometimes bleed in the corners of this world, out-of-sight-but-there. you’ll only notice when they strike. when they show themselves, when you realise there’s something terribly wrong with the stranger’s edges peering out of an alleyway, anglerfish luring its prey. poor smoker’s fate. 

a classification. fourteen primal fears straight out of the lovecraftian mythos. the stranger. the Spiral - think of michael, smile curling endlessly in all his sharp edges, laugh like an alarm bell ringing long after he’s gone. the Corruption - jane prentiss and her loving smile and worms burrowing in her flesh and in yours. 

the Eye.

you take in a sharp intake of air and read. 

IT KNOWS YOU.

*

you cannot move. you’re crushed by the sheer magnitude of the structure spreading around you in concentric circles of power. panopticon. he who stands in the centre watches and knows all. is there anyone at all in its centre?

you. you’re kneeling, skin bare and bruised and scraped, the stone harsh and unforgiving, scraping the tender skin of your knee. humidity seeps in through the open pores of your skin. 

you can’t see. it’s too dark, the penumbra stretching and stretching for miles, near corporeal with how thick it is. you think it might be reaching out for your eyes with too long fingers, chipped claws sinking below your eyelid to rip them off. 

you startle.

eyes.

so many eyes, staring at you from the darkness encasing you, with no eyelids so they do not blink. there’s the dreadful suspicion that their optic nerves join, mingle into something you do not want to see. ocular globes, little gelatinous spheres surrounding you, Watching you, Knowing you. you, on your bloody knees, heart stammering under your ribcage like a chased rabbit, your bare flesh cold, cold, cold. 

it’s cutting you open, scalpel gazes making careful, careful incisions in the marrow of your psyche. they’re carving open your head, your skull a neat, organic little box housing the grey matter of your brain. cerebrospinal fluid drips down your cheeks.

you shudder. you can feel them, Watching, Knowing, the mere thought of it a burning streak in your consciousness, they’re picking you apart, they Know what you’ve done, how you break-

you only start screaming when you look up and See.

you startle awake with a shuddering gasp, trembling so badly you can’t even make out the familiarity of your bedroom. breathe in. the darkness isn’t cloying, the street lights worming their way beneath your shutters. breathe out. you can hear the cars running, the nocturnal hustle and bustle of london’s night life. the chatter, the laughter. 

you let out a trembling sigh and run your hand over your face. you find it damp with sweat and tears. a beat of silence. you rest your forehead on your palms, hands gliding down until the heel of your palm is over your socket and you push there until you feel the bone, the gelatinous fragility of your eye. it is not the first time you have these dreams. you wish you could sleep.

you trace the edges of your temples, those you know were left gaping, those you know had been wrenched open- closed. no scar. only those on your thighs, on your forearms, on your hands from these wretched worms.

you close your fingers, nails digging in your bandaged palm and feel a pinprick of pain. the other side of the bed is cold and empty. you glance at the analog clock on your bedside table. the time blares, angry red flashing 5:32 in your retina. three hours left before going to work. 

you get up from the bed and set about changing your sweat-soaked sheets. you’re not going to fall back asleep. might as well get ready for work. you do, body set in autopilot. breakfast. shower. lather hydrating cream over the expanse of you. disinfect the many, many patches of scarred tissues left by the flesh-hive. get dressed - black tailored pants, cream crispy ironed shirt. a spritz of perfume. white flats. a quick glance in the mirror - there you are, the epitome of professional perfection, little miss trust-me-i-have-everything-under-control. 

you don’t.

you’re tired. so, so very tired. exhaustion settles like a heavy weight in your bone marrow, anchors you down until your whole world is clouded. foggy. you don’t remember the last time you’ve pushed the door to the archives without a thin veil clouding your eyes. 

you think of the Narrator, unnamed, bone-deep tired, staring emptily in the camera in a film you can’t say the name of. first rule: you do not talk about it. second rule: you do not, talk about it. everything’s a copy of a copy of a copy.

as it goes, you push the door to the archives, step inside the quiet room, shrug off your coat at your designated desk, and go about making yourself some coffee. nobody’s there to plot your bloody murder as you blankly explain that, to you, tea is nothing but bland leaf juice. not that tim or martin would bother these days.

it’s quiet. nobody’s here to see you climb the stairs to the break room on the second floor. the one used by the human resources department. lucky bastards. bastards, period. refusing to hand over the necessary funds to buy another coffee machine for the archives after the first one broke during prentiss’ infestation. and they say their mission is to foster a safe work environment. such a shame your morning murderous urges are only quelled by your second cup of the day.

you grab a mug and press the button. whirring rises in the dry silence of the room. slowly, slowly, the mug is filled up. you inhale and feel your shoulders relax by half a fraction. the heavenly scent of grounded coffee beans percolating feels the room and you find yourself smiling. it doesn’t ease the fogginess clouding your mind. it will do.

large window panes offer a wide overview of the streets below, the early morning fog clinging to humid asphalt, the rare cars passing by. you let out a slow exhale, your breath clouding the window.

your mug is ready.

“is that one for me?”

you startle.

elias bouchard stands behind you, hands clasped behind his back, picture perfect manager in a crisp suit - too stiff, too out of place in his employee’s break room. he’s wearing a phthalo green suit, the one that brings out the green-grey of his eyes. your favourite. and he’s waiting for your answer, you realise after an embarrassingly long amount of time.

there are two mugs in front of you. you blink.

“oh. oh, yes.”

you hand him the first mug and reach for your own. he thanks you with a floating smile and takes a sip. a low hum. 

“so you do have taste.”

you blink.

he’s reclining on a table, watching you. you and your impeccably ironed shirt, cradling your mug like one would something precious. you and the bags under your eyes, so dark they might be embedded in the preciously thin skin below your eyelids.

you snort. 

“just because i have a massive sweet tooth doesn’t mean i’d put sugar in coffee. i’m french, not a complete barbarian.”

you earn a quiet chuckle. something like satisfaction purrs inside of you - you made him laugh, the sound low and rich and deep.

“one might argue that you are, in the literal sense of the term, a barbarian.”

“one might argue that the etymological definition of a barbarian doesn’t apply to me, as i speak your language.”

you watch him, from over the steaming rim of your mug. something like… elation flashes in his eyes. the thrill of debate, maybe.

“do you, now?”

you tilt your head to the side, eyes narrowing by a fraction as you assess him. the perfect curl of his lips in that damning razor sharp half-smile. the relaxed slope of his shoulders. the soft stillness of his long, gloved fingers on the table. the glint in his green-grey eyes, daring you to take the bait.

you do, crossing your legs at the ankles, leaning back against the window.

“at first glance, yes.” you point an accusatory finger towards him. “but you, monsieur bouchard, don’t like sticking to first glances and faux-semblants, you’re sharper than that.”

a low hum. there’s something sharp in his smile. his gaze feels like it’s cutting you open. you hold your ground, unblinking, watching him and his annoyingly handsome face. 

“you’re wearing a mask, dear.”

“aren’t we all?”

he shakes his head.

“it’s convenient, isn’t it? not to have to bear the weight of your mother tongue.”

your shoulders tense. there’s that pinprick pressure at the back of your neck, standing poised and sharp against your vertebrae. he’s watching you, needle-gaze pinning you like a butterfly to a wall. 

“it’s a pain. english and french bleed into one another too much and it messes up my syntax.”

“you’re deflecting.”

“wasn’t your question rhetorical?”

silence. it feels like a loss. one beat, two beat, unsteady, hammering wildly like your heart, beneath layers of flesh and fabric, all perfectly controlled thank you very much.

he’s before you before you know it, close, close enough for you to smell his cologne - something sharp and cold with a faint hint of ink. you raise your eyes and meet his gaze. you think there’s a faint glow to it, irises flashing green for the briefest moments. 

“you’re hard to pin down, my dear.”

you can feel the heat of him, creeping closer and closer as he leans down ever so slightly, one gloved finger curling under your chin, tilting your head up, up, up until the angle makes you wince.

“coming from you, i’ll take that as a compliment.”

a low hum. the building pressure at your nape has you clenching your teeth. then, finally, he lets go, apparently satisfied with whatever it is he’s found in you.

“thank you for the coffee. it has been most… insightful.”

with that, he leaves, and you stand alone in the break room, coffee mug now cold. even without the unbearable weight of his gaze on you, you feel watched. the only thing remaining in the room with you is the portrait of jonah magnus, peering down at you with storm-grey eyes. somehow, it feels familiar.

you want to scream. you gulp down your coffee and leave an empty mug behind.

[random-writing-panda]

||•~Late night love~•||

Bruce Wayne (Batman) x reader

*not my gif

First post kinda exited also kinda terrified. Sorry for any grammar/spelling or just general mistakes. Hope you like it?

Warnings: mentions of blood ( its like a few words i think)

Word count: 800

====================================

Being Bruce Wayne’s wife wasn’t easy, its stressful and upsetting. Due to Bruce's extracurricular activities you are often left alone in a bed that feels too large and lonely it’s a good thing he always ends up next to you eventually. 

====================================

Flipping over into your side you glance at the clock on your nightstand the big red numbers read 4am and you hadn't slept at all. It was always impossible for you to sleep without the warmth Bruce provided. 

Bruce was currently on patrol with the boys and you were left alone in an obnoxiously large bed that was cold and empty, you knew what Bruce did was important and how many people he helped, how many people that depended on him. 

But you couldn’t help but feel lonely at times like these, late at night, cold and missing your husband.

You waiting up for Bruce to return from patrol wasn’t unusual, you always worried when he was out and wanted to make sure he was safe and unharmed, the many sleepless nights took the form of prominent dark circles under your eyes and no matter what you did you could never fully hide them. This of course made Bruce feel guilty, you were only up because of him.

∞∞

You were woken to the sound of yelling and something smashing on the floor. You jolt up from bed and rush out into the hallway and as you step out Alfred runs right into you.

“I’m so sorry Miss y/n.” Alfred hastily apologies but continues to rush to the halls with his arms full of medical supplies.

“It’s okay Alfred what happened, who got hurt??” you followed Alfred through the manor taking a few items from him,

“Master Bruce was injured…” the grim look on his face said more than any words could, Bruce had been hurt before, it was in the job description, but this was different, this was worse than his other injuries, at this realization you grab more of the medical supplies from Alfred and run into the bat cave.

Once you enter the Batcave you see Jason and Tim trying to hold up an almost unconscious Bruce between them, you hurl yourself towards them and pull up a medical table that was kept in the Cave for these exact situations, Alfred was quickly helping the boys move Bruce.

“Quick get him down!” you are almost screaming at the boys, you glance at the floor, small puddles of the deep red blood scatter along the floor with small drips from someone else, your heart drops.

With a thud Jason and Tim manage to get Bruce on the table and Alfred retrieves the medical supplies he left close by.

“What happened?” trying to stay calm as you start cutting Bruce’s suit,

“It was a trap…” Tim grasped his own forearm where blood was rushing out.

“We need to get Master Bruce to a hospital I can’t fix all of this.” Alfred says in the calmest voice he could muster.

∞∞

That night was the last time you slept before your boys got back home, Bruce had ended up in the hospital because of a ‘car accident’ and you didn’t leave his side for two days until he woke up, you barley slept and only ate when one of the boys brought food in. Only once Bruce was awake did the boys manage to convince you to get some real sleep, another three days in the hospital and Bruce was released. That had been a few months ago.

Your eyes slowly close as sleep becomes harder and harder to fight, every one of your muscles feel like stone dragging you closer to sleep.

Just as your mind is about to slip into an unconscious state the door to your bedroom opened and you crack your eyes open and let out a silent yawn.

“Bruce?” you whisper.

You husband takes long strides towards you,

“Why are you still awake?” he moves towards the closet,

“You know I can’t sleep alone…” you whisper it was hard being Bruce’s wife sometimes, but he didn’t let anyone in, not even you so when something was wrong, he became closed off and more brooding until eventually he was just back to being your loving and kind husband.

Bruce walked out of the large closet with his pajamas in hand. You sit up in bed and pull the blanket to your chest.

“Did something happen tonight?” you ask silently,

“No.” As he changed you took in his figure and your eyes slowly rose to meet his and he cracks a small smile only just noticeable.

“Nothing really happened, its just been a long night and I missed my lovely wife.” lifting the blankets over his body he settles into the bed beside you,

“I miss you a lot when you are out…” another yawn escapes your mouth, moving closer to him you rest your head on his chest.

“I know sweetheart I’m sorry…but I’m here now okay? So go to sleep alright? I hate it when you stay up so late for me y/n it’s not good for your health.” Bruce gently whispers as he leaves kisses all over your forehead. Unable to stop the giggles you curl up against him.

“You’re just lucky I love you Mr. Wayne.” slowly drifting off to sleep.

“I agree, my love, I am very lucky.”

====================================

Tag list:

[phantom-dc]

Dad Hood - part 7

It’s been a few days since Jason brought Tim some of Danny’s hair. He’d checked on Tim’s coffee stash and agreed with Alfred.

‘Goddamn, Tim! I said you could hide your coffee in that safehouse, not fill it!’

Oh well, it would be worth it. In those few days he’d been waiting, Danny’s list of powers had only grown. He took another look at his notebook:

Invisibility

Cryokinesis

Flight

Soul-pulling-out-powers???

Destructive scream

Lasers

Super strength

(Flying) Superspeed

Photokineses

Shields

Jason was getting worried. Thank god Tim was done with his research. He was confused as to why Tim insisted on meeting him instead of just sending him the list of people Danny was made up off. Jason did NOT want to think that the list was so big Tim wanted to give it himself.

Thank goodness Tim landed on the roof. Jason didn’t think he could wait any longer. Before Jason could say anything, Tim cut him off.

‘You have some explaining to do.’

Jason rolled his eyes. ‘I already told you, RR. I’m investigating a possible Respawn clone. Do you have the list I asked for? I need to kno-‘

‘Oh, don’t start with that bullshit. I know you’re lying!’

Jason was confused. ‘What? Why do you think I’m lying? Do you have the results or not?’

Tim looks angry. ‘Hood, you know full well there’s only 2 people on that list.’

Jason gets annoyed at Tim’s attitude: ‘Fine, so it’s Slade and who? Killer Frost? Superman? Give me details, man!’

‘It’s not Slade. It matches partially with Talia and you.’

Jason’s blood goes cold. ‘Tim, what do you mean?’

Tim rolls his eyes. ‘Look man, if you have a kid that’s one thing. But if you needed a paternity test you could’ve-‘

Jason grabs Tim by the arms. ‘TIM, WHAT DO YOU MEAN: MY KID!?!’

Tim finally realizes Jason honestly has no clue. ‘Wait, you didn’t know?’

‘NO, TIM! I DIDN’T! WTF YOU MEAN HE’S MY KID!?!’

Tim shakes Jason off. ‘Ok, easy man! Calm down! Deep breaths!’

Jason slumps down. Tim takes pity on him.

‘Ok, let’s take a step back, J. I need to know where you got this sample.’

Jason looks at him, and motions for Tim to follow him. As he climbs through Jason’s window, he wonders why they’re there.

‘So, did you have some files you wanted to show me, or-‘

‘INTRUDER ALERT!’

Tim is tackled from the side, sending him into the couch.

‘OH MY GOD!’

Tim tries to wrangle the kid off, but he can’t get a grip.

‘Get off me!’

Jason comes over and picks Danny up.

‘Jason! There’s a stranger here!’

Jason ruffles Danny’s hair.

‘Good job, kiddo. Never trust strangers that climb through your windows. But you can calm down. This is my brother, Red Robin.’

Danny tilts his head sideways. ‘Yum?’

Jason laughs. ‘No, not that Red Robin!’

Pulling Tim up, he introduced him.

‘RR, this is Danny, my… kid.’

Tim sees Jason having some more panic, and takes over. Kneeling down he talks to Danny.

‘Hi Danny! You’re a friend of Jason, right? You can call me Tim!’

Danny is hiding behind Jason’s leg. Tim says Jason asked him some help in figuring out where Danny came from. Danny becomes curious.

‘Did you find out?’

Jason picks Danny of the ground, so he’s on eye level with Tim.

‘Well, no. But I did find out something interesting? Turns out, Jason’s your daddy! Did you know that?’

Danny looks at Jason, and he looks amazed.

‘You are? That’s awesome! I always wanted to meet you!’

This surprises Jason. ‘Wait, you knew that I was your dad?’

Danny shakes his head.

‘No, not that. But mom and dad always said I wasn’t their bo…bia…’

Tim helps out: ‘Their biological child?’

Danny nods. ‘Yeah! So I was wondering who my mommy and daddy are!’

Jason is very tired and needs sleep, so he decides to cut this short.

‘It’s great to find out, but it’s very late. How about we go to sleep now, and tomorrow we’ll celebrate with cake?’

Danny cheers. ‘YAY, CAKE! Goodnight Daddy!’

He climbs out of Jason’s arms and goes to bed, wanting to sleep so he can get cake quicker. Jason head is spinning from being called daddy so quickly. Tim just looks at Jason.

‘You need to tell me everything. NOW.’

First - Previous - Next - AO3

[robintherobiner]

You guys know how Alfred is like, the one person who can get Bruce to eat, sleep, and all that jazz?

Well, when it comes to superhero stuff, everyone turns to Tim 'became a vigilante just so Batman wouldn't break the no kill rule' Drake.

"we should *insert plan that will end with Bruce majorly injured*"

Tim just looks at him. It's not even a glare, just a simple look.

"okay, change of plans-"

*beating the shit out of a criminal because they haven't given up information yet*

"BATMAN GET YOUR WRINKLY, NO GOOD HANDS OFF THAT CRIMINAL BEFORE I HAVE TO GET INVOLVED."

*silently puts them down*

"Now, apologise."

*silence*

"APOLOGISE YOU OLD CUNT."

"... sorry."

The league is freaking out because Batman is refusing to explain why he's mad at them so (as a joke) they check the files to see who they should call for when he's being an insufferable bitch but there actually turns out to be a number.

"wtf is this tiny ass traffic light gonna do"

"DUDE. I WAS TRYNNA HANG OUT WITH SPOILER AND I HAD TO BE DRAGGED OVER HERE JUST BECAUSE YOUR PATHETIC ASS CAN'T HANDLE YOUR FEELINGS?"

"shit batsy is gonna flip his lid, someone protect the kid-"

"BE A BIG BOY AND USE YOUR WORDS. WHY ARE YOU MAD AT YOUR FRIENDS?"

"... It's a test."

*cut to Tim screaming at Bruce for five hours*

[fryingpan1234567]

Batboys ships feat. the morning after New Years (happy 2023 everyone!!)

~ ”Ughhh…” Dick Grayson took half the covers with him when he fell out of the bed, sore and completely hungover.

Because of this, Wally was forced to actually move and look over the edge at him.

“What the shit was that for?” he grumped. His condition wasn’t much better. He yanked the covers back, but Dick didn’t move.

He groaned. “M’ skull has a heartbeat…” he mumbled into the carpet.

Wally huffed in solidarity. “That speedster alcohol works. Remind me to thank and then punch Cisco later.”

“What, you’re leaving the house today?” Dick joked, finally managing to crawl back up into bed. Thankfully, the windows were closed, and they could probably go back to sleep. He faceplanted into Wally’s chest. “Shtay.”

“Yeah, yeah.” There was a serene pause. Not even the dog was up. “If you puke on me, I’m breaking up with you.”

“I would nev- maybe we should go to the bathroom.”

“GET OFF!”

~ Lian knew her dads were going to be hungover the morning after. She did not count on taking care of and reverse-parenting the shit out of them, though. It was sort of validating.

“Li, I’m buying you the fucking Wonka factory after this,” Roy groaned, half hanging out of the bed.

“You’re my favorite child,” Jason agreed, (barely) catching the water bottle she tossed him.

Lian grinned, leaning against the bed. “Don’t repay me in chocolate, repay me in solo patrol time!”

“Don’t push your luck,” Roy grumbled, taking the bottle Jay passed over.

“I’ll make you Nutella sandwiches for lunch.”

“I hate that you know my weakness.”

~

When Tim woke up, the house was quiet.

Normally he’s not the first one up anyways. The Manor always had the sound of training, yelling, busy hallways. Unless it was early enough, anyways.

Kon’s arm was draped over his chest, and he was still snoring peacefully.

“Kon,” Tim whispered, poking at his bicep. “Conner, we’re up first.”

Conner mumbled something like, “You’re up first. I’m asleep.”

Tim sighed, tracing patterns on his boyfriend’s arm. More sleep didn’t sound too bad, although late nights weren’t an excuse. Late nights were every night.

Still. It was New Years last night. He figured no one would be up until at least nine, which was the latest anyone usually slept in the Manor.

“Turn your brain off,” Kon hummed. “I can feel you thinking. It’s distracting.”

“I thought you were asleep,” Tim teased, lolling his head over to check the actual time.

Oh. Oh, no.

Tim sat bolt upright in bed, startling Kon off of him.

“What-?” he started to say in a panic, but Tim cut him off.

“FUCK,” he yelped. “It’s one in the afternoon!”

~

Despite Drake’s shouting, Damian had managed to sleep in- and that never happened.

He lay staring at the door, a blush spreading across his face as memories from the night before replayed.

“Dami!” Admittedly, the Kryptonian had only found him because he’d paused to watch the countdown in Gotham’s city square. He couldn’t say he was mad, although he was maybe a bit ashamed someone had caught him lacking.

“Kent,” Damian greeted. He hated the butterflies that swarmed his stomach. He hoped it didn’t show in his voice.

“Can I sit?” Jon said obliviously. Damian gestured to the ledge beside him, where they could see the big billboard. Thirty seconds.

Dami glanced at him after a few moments of silence. “Why are you in Gotham?”

Jon shrugged. “Conner’s here. And maybe I wanted to see you.”

Twenty seconds. “Me?”

“Yeah… unless- if you don’t-“

“Jon.” Damian was startled into using his first name. He hesitantly laid a gloved hand on Jon’s. “I like to see you too, if it comforts you.”

Jon smiled. “Well, then- the countdown’s starting!”

10.

9.

8.

Jon hopped up to his feet, pulling Dami with him by the hand. When they were standing, he didn’t let go.

7.

6.

Damian tried to ignore the short distance between them. He could feel the heat radiating from him.

5.

4.

When Jon leaned in, he may or may not have given Dami a heart attack.

3.

2.

1.

He kissed him, right as the first fireworks went off and the crowd screamed.

Movement in the bed next to him scared him so bad he fell out of it.

There was a knife in Damian’s hand before he recognized the person there.

Jon was looking at him, pretty eyes half-lidded, with a sleepy smile. Dami tried not to melt.

“Tryna kill me already, Sunshine?” he mumbled, still buried in the covers. “After one date, too. Am I that bad at kissing?”

“I-“ Dami dropped the knife, mostly in shock. “No. No, of course not. To both questions.”

Jon hummed. “Well maybe you should stop trying to stab me and do it again.”

He did. For a long time. Father didn’t need to know why he never left his room that day.

~ can you tell who my favorite is lol

[the-coffeeaddict-tim-drake]

Just A Kid Next Door - Chapter 5

Bruce is finally back from being stuck in the time stream. Tim managed to save Batman and his loved ones. Now it is time for Tim to go home and rest. But the problem is that, Tim has no home. Or that's what he thinks so.

This will be a multichapter fic on how did Tim reconcile with his family. It will be full of angst, family feels and family shenanigans.

Masterlist

Here in the link to read the story in ao3.

-------------------------------CHAPTER 5---------------------------------

Dick couldn’t help but let his thought wander as he drove through the streets of Gotham, to the Manor. He glanced at Damian who was sitting in the passenger seat of the BatMobile, lost in his own thoughts while sporting a scowl.

Richard Grayson was Seven years old when he had his first nightmare.

That night, he dreamt about gross-looking, purple colored alien, using its power to set Zitka on fire. He screamed and screamed, screamed for help, but the alien only laughed.

When he woke up, all sweaty and tired, his mother was there, hugging him tightly and whispering sweet nothings. She was running her finger through his tangled hair while the other hand was holding his head closely to her chest. Her actions were soothing him.

Then his father came, holding out to him a glass of milk, with an encouraging smile.

That night, he slept peacefully, clinging to his mother and father.

The BatMobile came to a stop having come to the BatCave. Dick got out of the vehicle as fast as he could and made his way to the Med Bay. He saw Alfred standing in near the entrance, his expression a mixture of surprise and relief.

Relief.

Dick is relived too.

The next morning when he woke up, he was still scared about the previous night's dream. Hence after practicing his first routine for that day, his mother took him to a park and they both sat under a tree.

After few minutes of comfortable silence, his mother took out two colored papers out from her purse and handed one to Dick and kept one for herself.

“Dragă, when I was a child, just like you, I used have many bad dreams too. Then my Papi taught me how to make these beautiful paper crafts as a distraction. My Papi was great at it.

She let out a long sigh, thinking about Dick’s late grandfather.

“So whenever I used to have those dreams, we both would make many beautiful crafts like this together. It helped me to focus on other things and forget about those awful dreams.”

She turned and looked at him, her eyes shining, just like the sequins on their Leotards that they wear for the shows.

“I think it’s time for me to pass on that tradition to you, my copil.

That day, he made his first ever origami with his mother, a ‘Robin’.

From that day, every time Dick had nightmares, he and his mother would make various colourful origami which would ease all of his worries.

“Dr. Leslie Thompkins is checking upon Master Bruce, Master Dick. She forbade anyone from entering. I suggest you to be at ease, until then.” Alfred commented.

Dick couldn’t do anything but nod.

He removed his cowl, letting out a huge sigh as he took a seat in one of the chairs. Damian was carefully noting all of the young Batman’s moves.

Richard Grayson was eight years old when he lost his parents due to a fatal accident, which he later discovered to be a murder.

Richard Grayson was eight years old when he became an orphan.

Richard Grayson was eight years old, when his whole world was ripped away from him.

But Dick was also eight years old, when he was adopted by Bruce Wayne as his legal ward.

Dick’s thoughts were interrupted when Dr. Leslie exiting from the medical room.

“Just some mild cuts and bruises here and there. But all in all, I’d say he is doing great. And I’ve put him under mild pain medication, so it would probably take some time for him to wake up.”  Dr, Leslie said, packing her equipment.

“And by the way, you could see him now.”

Dick slowly made his way to the medical room, and was greeted by the sight of Bruce’s sleeping form. He saw Damian make his way to one side of the bed, taking one of Bruce’s hand in his. Even having spent quite some time with Damian now, he was still unable to read the young boy’s expression.

The room was completely silent.

Dick took small steps towards the other side of the bed, while eyeing Bruce carefully. Bruce looked sickly pale, his body had lost some muscles which made him look gaunt.

But dick also noticed that Bruce’s face was calm. His face looked unusually calm.

Dick took his seat on a small chair next to Bruce and took his other hand in his. He vaguely noticed Alfred wiping his tears.

It took him a minute to realize that he was crying too.

Dick was nine years old when he had his first nightmare in the Manor. He had dreamt about his parents falling off their trapeze, he saw the rope breaking, saw his parent’s smile turning into a scared expression, saw his parents fall. And he wasn’t able to do anything but cry.

It had just been few days since his adoption. But this time, his mother was not there to provide him comfort or his father, to give him a glass of milk. His mother was not there to help him make his origami figurines.

He got up from his bed and made his way to where he kept his school bag. He took out a few colored sheets and made his way to the kitchen.

He switched on the lights and took his seat in the dining area.

He tried to make a Robin origami this time, but all he did was cry and cry, cry until the coloured paper was wet due to his tears.

But he failed to notice a shadowy figure make its way towards him.

Bruce took a seat next to Dick, who was shaking, seemingly have not noticed the older man’s presence.

Bruce took one of his hands in his, which made Dick turn towards the older man, his eyes bloodshot and wide.

Then Dick crashed onto Bruce that night. He cried and cried, cried until he fell to a deep slumber. Bruce did nothing other that hold the shaking kid in his arms, praying that this would pass. Praying that his kid could recover from the trauma. Praying that he would not turn out to be like him.

The next morning when Dick woke up, he was surprised to see himself on his bed.

He did not fail to notice a Bat shaped origami on his night stand.

“Bruce” he called out, his voice trembling.

“Br-Bruce, wake up.”

He took his mentor's hand and brought it to his forehead, bending his head, and he cried.

Ever since that night, it became an unspoken tradition for both to leave origami figures for each other when the other was stressed or feeling down. It became even more frequent when Dick became Robin because of his increasing nightmares.

But every time, Bruce was there for him, providing comfort.

But as Dick grew and entered his teenage years, it became less frequent.

Dick and Bruce started having more and more disagreements and fights. In the beginning, they would use origami to converse with each other, mostly for apologizing. But as days passed, their fights grew more and more frequent, until one day when Dick altogether decided to put an end to it.

Their bonding activity came to an abrupt end, when dick moved out of the Manor.

Dick was silently shedding tears, when he heard a rough voice.

“Chum” Bruce called out, he eyes squinting, trying to adjust to the lights.

“Bruce, you’re back. God, I missed you so much, B”

Dick immediately hugged the old man, his head to Bruce’s chest hearing his heart beat, and cried.

These few months had been one of the hardest days of his entire life. Losing Bruce, he was forced to take up the Mantle of Batman and make the right choices as the next responsible adult.

Becoming Batman, leaving Nightwing, making Damian Robin, letting Tim go was the hardest decisions he’d ever had to take.

But he had to do it. Do it for the sake of his family, do it for the sake of Gotham.

Gotham needs Batman, so he had to make the right choice.

He was hurting. Hell, he was grieving. But he had no one to turn to. Despite having awful nightmares, he had no origami figures on his nightstand anymore. He had no one to provide him comfort.

He had lost his Dad once again.

He hugged Bruce tightly, fearing that he would disappear into thin air if he doesn’t do so.

Bruce closed his eyes and relished the feeling of his firstborn hugging him. He then glanced at Damian, who was watching them closely.

Bruce smiled and motioned him to join the hug. When Damian made no move, Bruce pulled the young boy towards him and hugged him.

Damian went rigid for few seconds, before closing his eyes and returning the hug. The three of them spent the next few moments huddled together, peacefully.

[maitaiwiththecorpses]

Taylor Swift Albums As Aru Shah Characters (or vice-versa) (???)

Debut: Hira. She's young, seemingly innocent, but she's definitely experienced more than her fair share of heartbreaks and sadness. While singing along to Tim McGraw, Our Song, or Picture To Burn, she draws on those first few moments when she met Brynne. The country style and easy patterns soothe her- she definitely loves Shania Twain, too.

Fearless TV: Kara. Needless to say, most everything she's done to get to this point has required her to be fearless. She is all forbidden destinies and regrets, crying and hoping and crying some more. She'd definitely scream along to Fearless, and You Belong With Me, and sometimes with the Sleeper she'd hum Fifteen and Love Story- just for the feeling of a normal childhood.

Speak Now TV: Rudy. He only picked this because he saw the fabulous purple album cover and thought of dark benevolent queen. He thinks of the first time he met Mini when he listens to Enchanted, because he's sure the whole world is in love with death's daughter. He recreates the intricate sounds of Better Than Revenge, Speak Now, and Sparks Fly with his stones, soon getting his own recording studio to record his instrumental covers of them. And of course, Mean empowers him to brush past all the idiots who made fun of him being colorblind and a failure- cause they're pathetic and alone in life and mean.

Red TV: Malini. Do I even need to explain? Throughout the separation and divorce with Aiden's dad, she definitely listened to All To Well (Ten Minute Version) on repeat, nostalgically played 22 for Aiden, and finally, when she got a girl's night out, played We Are Never Getting Back Together. The heartbreak and cheating in Red highlights all her relationship troubles and how she comes out of them stronger in the end.

1989: Brynne. It's her workout music all the way. And life music too. She does HIIT sessions to Shake It Off and New Romantics, and dances to Out Of The Woods with Hira when it's late and they can't sleep. The feeling of reinvention and starting anew really draws her to the album- and who can blame her? (Plus, she was totally jamming to Rudy's TSwift battle music in SoD)

Reputation: Aru. She struggles with her legacy, her reputation, throughout the series. The thrumming beats and quick mood shifts of ...Ready For It? stimulate her ever-speeding mind and she loves making fun of Aiden with Gorgeous, the entire song a huge excuse to outright flirt with him. Getaway Car is her and Rudy's go-to car song when they drive alone, and there are days when Aiden finds her crying to Dress and Delicate in the shower. During and after the final battle, Don't Blame Me and I Did Something Bad were the only things she could hear in her ears- they were deafening, and a way of her brain guilting and processing all the events.

Lover: Aiden. I immediately knew this was his. He's surrounded by love, constantly, despite being afraid of it, calling upon Death By A Thousand Cuts. With his mom he softly sings Soon You'll Get Better and with Brynne and Mini they karaoke It's Nice To Have A Friend. His dad gets a very blurry video of Aiden and Bee one year in Father's Day in pink cowboy boots singing I Forgot That You Existed and his father never texts back. Ever the feminist and bisexual icon, he's out here bopping to The Man and You Need To Calm Down. He makes fun of Aru liking I Think He Knows, but that's nothing compared to his 2 am serenades of Lover. His favorites, though, are Paper Rings and ME!

Folklore: Mini. The med student of Epiphany. The calm, the quiet, the casual anxious spirals. Yearning at desperate when she hears Invisible String, Rudy cries when she sings it. Her mom hates Exile, but Mini hears it and thinks of all the ways she could fail and cries to it some nights. Seven reminds her of running around in a field of sunflowers as a little kid, not a care in the world, forgetting allergies, grades, or Pandava stuff. August is her back to school calling, a reminder of responsibilities and how they're not always bad. Cardigan is her pick me up when she's missing Rudy- not that he's ever too far.

Evermore: Suyodhana. Willow. He can't love the way he wants to, he can't say yes without worrying about everything- he is Champagne Problems. Forbidden, murderous, No Body, No Crime was made for him.

Midnights: Krithika. The definition of Anti-Hero. A lot of the series wouldn't exist without her causing more and more problems, despite being well-intentioned, she keeps messing up, and finally in NoI she starts owning up. Her glittering confidence in the early books beckon to Bejeweled and her ever-sermonizing self would scream Karma at the top of her lungs. Question...? would remind her of everything she left in the lamp, Suyodhana, Aru's chance at a father- the love of her life.

[centralperkchenford]

Part 2 of Chenford + Heatwave and someone finding out about them.

I didn’t want to drag this on too long, so I just added some people finding out. Also I think Smitty leaving the report open on a desk is something he would 100% do. Anyway! I hope you enjoy the conclusion of this one!

I'm so in love that I might stop breathing (Drew a map on your bedroom ceiling)

Tim is dreading going into work, it’s not like he’s embarrassed (okay he is embarrassed- but Smitty came to his house on a noise complaint. Brought on by Lucy screaming in pleasure which was his fault). He glances over at Lucy who is sleeping soundly and then at his clock. 6:00am. Two more hours and they would have to be at work. He sighs and gets out of bed. Maybe Smitty was so horrified by what he saw and realized that he wouldn’t tell anyone. Tim drops his head between his legs because who is he kidding? Smitty would tell everybody. The man wasn’t the smartest, but he sure liked to talk.

Tim gets up and gets ready quietly, and then he nudges Lucy out of bed.

“Luce. You have to get ready for work.” He whispers and then he kisses her on the cheek gently. She stirs and opens her eyes blearily. “Why? I’m comfy.” She mumbles and tries to turn away from him but he stops her.

“Come on babe time to face the day!” He says a little too brightly and she glares at him but rolls out of bed. As she does the shirt rides up and he catches a glimpse of her thighs which still bear his marks. He grins at that. He loves knowing she walks around with little reminders that he was worshipping her body the night before.

Lucy gets ready quickly and Tim makes them coffee, he’s pouring hers into a thermos when he realizes they need to talk about what happened last night.

“So about last night..” he says a little awkwardly (he really doesn’t know how to bring up Smitty and sex in the same sentence). “Um so everyone probably knows.. what do you want to do?”

Lucy freezes and turns to look at him, she has a deer in the headlights look.

“You think Smitty ran back to the station and told everyone?” She asks. He gives her an incredulous look.

“Luce it’s Smitty of course he did.”

But Lucy shakes her head. “I don’t think so Tim. You really think he ran back to the station and told everyone that he got a noise complaint at his sergeant’s house. And what would he say? That the noise complaint was because said sergeant was making his girlfriend scream dur-”

Tim holds up his hands to stop her. “I’m going to stop you right there. I don’t ever want Smitty, you and sex in the same sentence. Ever.”

Lucy looks at him in amusement. “Baby. I wouldn’t worry about it. I’m sure nobody knows.” She says shrugging her shoulders and she reaches up to kiss him.

Tim stares at her in fond exasperation. “You are too trusting Luce. What if he did-?”

Lucy places her hands on his chest, and plays with his shirt. “Then we will deal with it Tim.”

Tim nods but he still feels uneasy about this (and still slightly mortified).

Tim avoids Smitty at work or he tries to avoid Smitty at work. But the man is like a parasite that just won’t leave.

“Bradford!” Tim turns in his chair to see Smitty hurrying towards him. He has a wide grin on his face and he’s holding a piece of paper.

“What do you want Smitty?” Tim growls at him. Smitty isn’t deterred though in fact Tim’s tone just makes him grin even bigger.

“I’m filling out the report from last night at your house-” he begins but Tim cuts him off quickly.

“Why? It was just a noise complaint? And it turned out to be nothing.”

“I thought you were by the book.” Smitty says. “I need to file this.”

Tim rolls his eyes because when has Smitty ever cared about filling paperwork?

“Okay and what’s your question Officer Smitty.” He asks and he crosses his arms across his chest.

“What do I say it’s for? I mean maybe it was screams of pleasure?”

Tim closes his eyes and he really wishes the ground would open up and swallow him up.

Just .. I don’t know Smitty.” He says dryly. “Just don’t let it get out.”

Smitty grins at him, and writes something down on the piece of paper.

“Don’t worry Sergeant Bradford your secret is safe with me.” He taps his head with the pen and Tim relaxes a little. Maybe Lucy is right maybe there is no need to worry.

The relief Tim was feeling doesn’t last long, Angela finds out because Smitty left the report open on his desk. And of course she just had to read it. She comes over to Tim and she’s grinning so big that Tim thinks her face must hurt.

“So you got the police called on you last night? She asks and he looks at her and then goes back to work.

“What?” He says acting like he doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

“Smitty left one of his reports open on his desk and well..” She says gleefully. And he drops his pen and turns to look at her again. Damnit Smitty

“So you got a noise complaint hmm? I didn’t know you were dating anyone. Let alone Lucy. Angela says and Tim knows she’s enjoying this. He’s also silently cursing Smitty for naming names in his report.

He sighs loudly and runs his hands down his face before saying. “Look it was hot and I opened the window and then I forgot it was open. And then-”

Angela holds up her hands. “No. I don’t want to know about the sex part.” She shudders briefly. “I want to know why you didn’t tell me you were dating Lucy.”

Tim’s mouth hung open a little. He closes it quickly. “It wasn’t anything personal Angela. We just wanted to make sure it was serious before we started telling everyone.”

“And is it serious?” She asks. Tim can’t help the smile that breaks across his face.

“Yes it is.” He says simply. He wouldn’t tell Angela this yet but Lucy was it for him. She was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

“Good.” Angela says and she starts to walk away to leave. “Just try not to leave your windows open anymore.”

Tim groans and he hears Angela cackling as she walks away.

Nyla found out because of course Angela told her. She just mumbled something about never needing to anything about Tim’s sex life. Tim is going to kill Smitty and then teach him how to file a police report.

Grey calls both Lucy and Tim into his office. Lucy follows Tim in nervously. And then stands next to him while Grey stares them down for a minute.

“Why do I have to find out from Smitty’s police report that he was called to your house last night Bradford?”

“Sir.” Begins Tim. “It was just a noise complaint. No big deal and it turned out it was just because-”

“Nope!” Grey says loudly. “I read the report. I am trying to scrub it from my memory.” He pauses and looks at them both. “I’m happy you are both happy with each other. But we don’t need that life coming into work. Especially that kind of stuff.” And he shudders like Angela did. Tim lets out a loud sigh.

Both Tim and Lucy nod in agreement. “Yes sir.” Says Lucy. “It was just really unfortunate that Smitty was the one to come.”

Tim agrees with that wholeheartedly. If it had been some other officer that knew how to be discreet they wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

“Okay I think that is all.” Says Grey. “I don’t want another one of these reports coming across my desk so you understand?”

They nod and then leave quickly. Lucy turns to Tim her face bright red. “So everyone knows because Smitty doesn’t know how to not leave things closed on his desk?”

“Yes.” Says Tim. “But it’s not horrible Luce. Angela and Nyla know. And Grey of course but so far that’s it.” He hopes that’s it because he really doesn’t want to explain it again. Or have yet another person know about his and Lucy’s sex life.

Lucy nods and then reaches out to squeeze his arm a little. “I’ll see you later.” She winks as she turns around. He watches her leave and then he goes back to his desk. Just as he’s about to make it there Aaron steps in front of him.

“Before you say anything. Yes I got a noise complaint to my house. Yes it was Smitty who took the call. No I don’t want to talk about it.” He says quickly. Aaron stared at him as if he’s grown two heads.

“What are you talking about?” He asks. “I just wanted to see if you had the papers because I’m-”

Tim blanches and then moves past Aaron to get to his desk. “Right right. Um.” He searches through the piles of papers on the desk. He finds Aaron’s papers and then hands them to him. Aaron doesn’t take them though.

“So about this noise complaint. What was it for?” He ask. “Because damn Sarge I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Tim musters up the best glare he can and shoots it at Aaron. “I’m not talking about this with you.” He shakes the folder at Aaron. “Do you want this or not?”

Aaron takes it but he’s grinning. “I’m glad you are finally happy Sir.”

Tim waits until Aaron walks away and then he grins. Because he is very happy.

Later at Lucy’s apartment, she tells him Nolan questioned her because he heard it through the grapevine.

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought.” Tim admits. “I still wish Smitty could learn to actually file stuff.”

Lucy props her chin on his chest and looks up at him. “As embarrassing as it was.. do you regret it? I mean last night.”

Tim shakes his head fervently because he doesn’t think he will ever regret a night with Lucy. Even if that’s how all their friends found out they were dating. It was worth it, they were worth it. “Nope.”

She grins at him. “Me neither.”

He flips her over so she’s underneath him and he hovers over her. “In fact I think I could go for a repeat performance.” Lucy’s reply is cut of because he surges down to kiss her hard.

And it turns out that each time he’s with Lucy it gets better and better. And every time she looks at him with that adoring look, his heart grows about 10 times bigger.

(And he wouldn’t have it any other way).

[saralayne]

What I Needed (It Will Always Be You) 🩵💜

Chapter 1: Best Friend Magic

After Vegas, Ashley gives Tim a ultimatum. Angela steps up to the plate and gives Tim the tough love he needs to come to a long awaited realization.

“I don’t want you seeing her anymore” screamed Ashley. Ashley Mcgrady, a tall, thin blonde that had been Tim’s girlfriend for a while now . “WHAT!?! - Ashley what the hell are you talking about?” answering Tim. Tim had never been so confused in this very moment. They had a nice dinner. Having their first date night since he returned from the UC op in Vegas. Sure, he had gotten an innocent text from Lucy. She was just replying to him after he had checked in with Lucy. Tim knew all too well what the aftermath of an op can entail. It hadn’t been a long, deep undercover mission. It had been a lot of planning, portraying their doppelgängers Dim and Juicy. He knew Lucy was probably fine. But he had gone through this many times with his ex wife Isabel. Tim knew Lucy was not Isabel. He still felt he needed to check in with her just to make sure she was ok. Lucy had broken up with Chris before they left for Vegas. She hadn’t seen a future after she returned from UC school and they were in a standstill after Rosalyn had Chris attacked. They couldn’t bounce back from what happened. Lucy, if she was being truthful didn’t want to. Chris wasn’t the man she wanted. Lucy had Tamara. Her roommate was extremely busy with school and working and was rarely home. So, Tim just wanted to check in with his aide. His friend. His former boot. Lucy had replied she was good and she would see him at work. Very innocent. Ashley’s reaction to her text, shook Tim. “No matter what we are doing. Lucy texts and you drop everything to answer her” muttered Ashley. “Ash, you are being ridiculous. Lucy is my aide and my friend. We went through an intense op. I’m just making sure she’s good” exclaimed Tim. “That’s crap Tim and you know it. I see the way you look at her when you think no one is looking. I see the way you literally drop everything if she texts or calls. I can only imagine what happened in Vegas. I realize you had to pretend being a couple. I’m sure you loved every minute of it” shouting the blonde lifeguard. “Yes, that is true. We had to be a couple in a very dangerous situation and bring down some very bad men. It meant nothing. It’s over now. I’m here with you now. So just drop it” answering Tim and his girlfriends possessive remarks. “No, Tim that’s not good enough. I want to be with you and only you. As long as Lucy’s in your life. She is going to be this wall in between us. If you care about us, you will not continue a personal relationship with her. I understand you have to have a professional relationship but when your off the clock, there is no need to speak with her. She has many people she can go to. It doesn’t need to be you” as Ashley gasped, not prepared for what came next.

“Ashley, WE ARE DONE”

“WHAT?!”

“You heard me. I said we are done. I will not be given an ultimatum. EVER. Lucy is not just my aide, my former rookie. She is one of my best friends. She has been through hell in past few years. I will not walk away from her. I will never choose between her and anyone”

“That’s what I thought. It’ always been Lucy hasn’t it?”

“I’m leaving, Ash. I’m not continuing with this. It’s become crystal clear to me that we aren’t right for each other. Goodbye”

Tim angrily stomping out the door. Jumping into the driver side of his truck. He knew he had completely deflected that last question from his now ex girlfriend. ‘It’s always been Lucy hasn’t it?’ Truth is she wasn’t wrong. He knew deep down he was in love with Lucy. No one would ever give him an ultimatum, especially cutting the most important person out of his life. Even if she was only his friend for the rest of his life, Lucy Chen would always be a part of his life, one of the biggest part. As he drove home, he didn’t know what to do. Hopefully a good night sleep would give him some clarity.

Tim had tossed and turned all night. He needed some advice from his other best friend. Bringing out his text thread to Angela Lopez. He could always count on Angela to give it to him straight.

From: Bradford

To: Ang

“I need to talk to you”

From: Ang

To: Bradford

“Uh oh. Where’s the body? Let’s get our stories straight”

From: Bradford

To: Ang

“Very funny. I’m serious. I really need some tough love from my best friend”

From: Ang

To: Bradford

“OK. Meet you at the station?”

From: Bradford

To: Ang

“No. Not at the station. Food truck?”

From: Ang

To: Bradford

“See you in 20”

Angela walked up to her anxious best friend. “Alright Bradford. What did you do? Just talk to Lucy and work it out” sputtered the detective. “WHAT!?? How do you even know this is about Lucy? stuttering Tim. “Oh please, Tim. It’s always about Lucy. She’s the only one that gets you this nervous. I am a detective. This isn’t rocket science” smugly answering his best friend.

“I broke up with Ashley”

“Thank god for that” snipping Angela

“Seriously. Lopez. Your not helping”

“Oh I think I am definitely helping. How long did you really think you could go on dating her? I won’t go into the long list of reasons but how about I mention the reason that matters”

“And what’s that, Ang?”

“Your such an idiot Bradford!”

“So touching of you, Lopez”

“TIM. For the love of god. Ok, I’m gonna spell it out for you. YOUR IN LOVE WITH LUCY. You have been for years”

“I-IM NOT. I can’t be”

“Keep telling yourself that. Who are you trying to convince. You seem to be the only one to believe that. Well maybe Lucy too. Because she is in as much denial as you. But the rest of us see right through this charade. However, I will play. Why did you break up with Malibu Barbie?”

“Ang. Stop. Sh-She gave me an ultimatum. She demanded I not have a personal relationship with Chen anymore. Apparently everything revolves around Lucy. All I did was look at a text. She was just replying back after I checked in to make sure she was ok after we got back from Vegas.

“Uh huh”

“Ang. Come on”

“Ok. Ok. So how did it end? I’m sure you told her there was no way you would cut Lucy out of your life”

“As I was leaving she said and I quote ‘It’s always been Lucy, hasn’t it?’

“Wow. For the first time. She is onto something”

“Really Ang?”

“Yes really. Come on Tim. Be brutally honest with yourself. Can you please just dig deep and confront your feelings. When you see yourself in a year, five years, ten years. What do you see? Or better yet who do you see?”

“LUCY”

“By George I think he’s got it”

“What the fuck do I do now?

“Oh my gosh. I swear Jack could figure this out. Go and talk to her? Why do you think Lucy abruptly ended things with Chris? You honestly think it has nothing to do with you? Because IT DOES”

Tim drove to Wilshire. Knowing he needed to talk to Lucy. He could no longer avoid what was right in front of him. It was a risk. So many complications but he wanted a chance to have a life with Lucy Chen. He was in love with her. There was no doubt about it. Could he finally have his happy ending?

Up next: Tim talks to Lucy