#but today Timmy decided he could try to nap with me

[hafwen]

Today was the first day since we lost Pumpkin someone had a nap with me

Timmy stayed with me all day and only left when I woke up from my nap!

[much-obliged-timothy]

Heirs

I almost didn’t post this because I really just wrote it on a whim after my Dad Tim & Uncle Rhys shorts made me wonder what it’d be like for Tim if Jack had another kid. So, here’s a snapshot take on that idea! 

Tim wondered when the bizarre life he was living had become normal to him.

There was the whole being a doppelganger working for the world’s biggest psychopath part of it, of course. But if you’d told him years ago he was going to be, essentially, a nanny for the psychopath he was a doppelganger of, he would’ve laughed in your face.

Now, he just scooped the beer he’d been drinking off the coffee table and tossed it up on the counter where kids couldn’t reach. He kicked his dirty laundry under his bed and took a quick look around to make sure nothing of imminent danger was left lying about. 

He’d been horrified when Jack accidentally got Nisha pregnant. Even more horrified when Nisha decided to keep the kid. The last thing the galaxy needed was a mini Jack/Nisha running around.

The horror had grown to an overwhelming amount when Jack decided to use Tim to look after the kid when he was too busy to do it himself. 

Tim had absolutely dreaded it, waiting for the kid to get old enough to use him as a punching bag or torment him the way Jack did. No way the offspring of Handsome Jack and Nisha Kadam would ever have a kind bone in their body. 

There was a knock on the door and Tim called out a lazy, “Come in.”

The door opened and in bound a small boy who was a disturbing mix of Jack and Nisha. His tutor followed behind him.

“His homework,” the tutor said, handing a folder to Tim. “I had permission to take him on a bit of a field trip today, so he never napped. I’d either let him sleep an hour now, or else start that homework early and let him go to bed earlier than usual.”

“Jack’s got him for bedtime,” Tim said, taking the folder. “If he’s cranky by then, it’s not my problem.”

The tutor shrugged and left Tim’s apartment. Tim tossed the folder down.

“Liam!” he called as the boy took off for the kitchen. “Come start your homework.”

It was a minute before Liam reappeared with a juice box and a small bag of chips. He shook his head at Tim, thick black hair tumbling across his forehead.

“Nu-uh, Uncle Timmy! I gotta see Angel! I gotta!” He shot Tim his wide-eyed look, which seemed to work on every adult except Tim. “Please. I gotta.”

Tim pointed. “Homework. Or it’s my ass your dad will beat.”

He abandoned the wide-eyed look and instead settled for an imitation of Jack’s stern look. “I gotta see Angel.”

“Nah, kid,” Tim said. “You gotta do your homework.”

“I’ll bring it,” he tried. “Please, Uncle Timmy!”

Tim sighed heavily. But Liam didn’t get to see his sister often, and he knew Angel was probably his only sane family member.

“Fine. But you don’t get to throw a fit later when you’re tired and you have to finish your work,” Tim said, snatching the folder up, knowing full well that Liam wouldn’t touch it while they were visiting Angel but needing to try anyways. “Let’s go.”

A bright smile broke out on Liam’s face, so happy and pure. Tim hated that he still held out hope that the kid would be better than his parents someday. 

But Liam launched forward, throwing his little arms as far around Tim’s waist as he could. “You’re the best, Uncle Timmy!” 

“Yea, yea,” Tim said, taking his hand and leading him out of the apartment.

They went to the nearest fast travel station. Tim set it for the Bunker, being one of the only people authorized to fast travel there now that he was so often in charge of Liam.

It had been horrifying to learn Jack was going to have a child. Even more so to learn that his baby with Nisha wouldn’t be his first. 

But Tim had adjusted slowly to Angel. As they flashed inside her chamber, he was heartbroken but used to the sight of her and the Eridium injectors hooked into her body.

This poor girl. Tim tightened his hold on Liam’s hand, wondering if he could secure a better fate for Jack’s second child.

“Timothy,” she said in surprise. “Liam.”

“Angel!” Liam released Tim’s hand to run forward. “Angel, I went on a field trip today!”

“Did you?” she said, so easily able to hide the jealousy she no doubt felt. She was trapped here, doomed to die without Eridium, while her little brother got to experience the world. 

Liam nodded eagerly. “Uh-huh. We went to see skags! But they were, um, they were...d...d...d-something.”

“Domesticated?” Tim offered.

“Yea!” Liam was nodding eagerly again. “I got to see all kinds’a skags and stuff. And- And there was this one guy and one of the skags bit him.” He laughed at the thought, Tim and Angel sharing a look. The signs that Jack and Nisha were getting to him were glaringly obvious at times. “He started cryin’, like a baby.”

“Well, it probably hurt,” Angel said. “You shouldn’t laugh at people when they get hurt. It’s mean.”

He ignored that, still laughing. “I petted one! They felt all weird and gross.”

“You pet one,” Tim said. “‘Petted’ isn’t a word, kid. This is why you need to do your homework.”

Liam ignored that, too. “And there were baby skags! Mr. Wilson let me name one!”

“What’d you call it?” Angel said.

He was basically vibrating with excitement. “Angel! I named her Angel!” 

Tim and Angel shared another look. He could tell she still held out hope for him, too.

“That was really nice of you, Liam,” she said softly. Tim couldn’t quite read the expression on her face; it might’ve been pain, or sadness, or love. Maybe it was all of them. He looked away rather than suffer trying to interpret it.

“They made her a collar with her name on it!” Liam said. “I’m gonna ask daddy to give her a bodyguard so she’s always safe.”

Tim closed his eyes, clenching his fists. He hated his own hope. He hated it so much, because he knew this boy’s kindness would never survive.

Angel had to take a moment before speaking again. “I hope she gets to grow up strong and see the whole world.”

“I’m gonna take a picture next time we see her. Mr. Wilson said I can see her again!” he said. “I’ll show you the picture.” He hesitated, looking anxious. “And maybe daddy will let you come see her. I’m gonna tell him she’s named after you. So maybe he’ll let you come with me next time.”

“I would love that,” Angel said, because it was honest and it was kinder than the reality of telling him why she couldn’t. “I really would, Liam.” 

He pressed his hand to the chamber enclosing her. She pressed hers to it as well, so little separating them, so much separating them. His hand was so tiny, swallowed up by the image of hers against it. His bright blue eyes met hers, their most striking shared feature they’d inherited from the man who kept them apart. 

“Tell me more about your trip,” she said, only the faintest tremor to her words. “I want to hear everything.”

His smile was huge. He went on and on about his trip and everything he saw, sometimes getting so excited that he’d repeat himself. But Angel never pointed it out, and neither did Tim. They let him carry on, swooping in with questions when he seemed ready to stop talking.

Finally, though, his lack of a nap caught up with him. Tim was sitting on the ground, and Liam went over, crawling into Tim’s lap as his yawns grew more frequent. It wasn’t long before he fell asleep.

“Please, Timothy,” Angel said quietly, her eyes fixed on her brother. “I have no chance. But he does. Look out for him.”

“I’m trying,” Tim said, looking down at the small child in his lap. 

“When dad told me Nisha had a boy, I was so happy. It meant he would never share my fate,” Angel said, looking away from them both. “But he can use Liam in other ways.”

“Angel,” Tim said. “Did you pick his name?”

Angel nodded. “Yes. Dad let me pick his name.” She gave a weak smile. “He hated what I chose. But I just...It means ‘protector’. I want...I want him to be a force of good in the world, Timothy.”

She could’ve been, too. But Jack had locked her away and used her for his own selfish gain.

“I’ll do everything I can to keep him from being the fucking nightmare his parents are,” Tim promised.

That earned a surprised laugh from Angel. “Thank you. I wish I could take care of him myself. I’m glad Jack chose to trust you with him. You’re a good man.”

“That’s debatable these days, but I’m at least a better man than Jack,” Tim said. He bit his lip. “I can, uh, bring him here more often. If you want.”

That look in her eyes he couldn’t read again. “Yes. Thank you, Timothy. I would like that a lot.” 

They fell silent after that. Angel watched her brother sleep. Tim thought about how unfair the world was.

He’d seen Jack interact with both his children. Tim believed Jack did love both of them. But Tim also believed that when Jack loved something, he felt compelled to break its will so he could control it. After all, a thing could never leave him if he shackled it to him.

Tim and Angel did not wake Liam, even when Tim’s legs fell asleep from the position the little boy was in, and even when Jack called to see where they were. Waking him meant bringing him back to Helios, back to everyone who had a plan for him, who wanted to chip away at his kindness to make way for cunning and cruelty. 

Angel wanted to tell Tim everything, but she refused to put him at risk. She knew it would all be over soon; she would betray her father and help the Crimson Raiders defeat him. Jack would die, and so would she. She only hoped Tim fled with Liam and raised him.

Handsome Jack had stolen freedom and any hope of a normal life from Angel. She would not let him do the same to her brother.

So they sat in silence. It was the calm before the storm, and they knew it. But there was nothing to do now, so Tim stayed beside Angel’s prison and let Liam sleep, the only comfort he could offer the children Jack had damned. 

[nessiesspeakeasy]

Rhys' Secret

Rhys huffed.

Finally, Jack looked into the camera. “I’m sorry to break whatever precious rules ya got, but this is important.”

“It’s always important.”

-----

Jack is suspicious of what Rhys isn't telling him.

You can also read this on my AO3!!!

Rhys hadn’t told Jack about his child. It wasn’t anything personal, just that he preferred his home life to stay private. Being an omega was already a stigma in the workplace. He’d had to fight his previous boss’ prejudice to get his job back after giving birth and now that he worked with the CEO himself, Rhys did not want any repeats.

Being Jack’s PA was demanding and Rhys had had to be firm with keeping work and home separated. When he was off the clock, he was off the clock and he had a set time. Jack had only merely quirked an eyebrow at this in the beginning, but over time, he began to question it.

“I can live with that,” Rhys would answer blandly.

The alpha would frown. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say your first loyalty is not to Hyperion. Where do your loyalties really lie, cupcake?”

Rhys never gave an answer, he’d just shrug and go back to work. Jack could think whatever he wanted of Rhys. He was not a sell out, he just had Tim, and Tim meant more to him than anything else.

So, when Jack called an emergency meeting on his day off, Rhys was not thrilled. He’d been looking forward to concentrated time with Tim. He was thankful it was nap time, he did not want the six month old to hear him swearing.

As he entered the call, he found it was just him and Jack. “What the hell, Jack? What’s the emergency?”

“I needed to hear your voice, cupcake.” Though a flirt, Jack seemed preoccupied. Rhys could see him glance at the monitor and frown. “Why aren’t you on your cam?”

“Cause I don’t want to,” Rhys snapped. He picked up the small toys of Tim’s and put them in a basket. “If there isn’t a real emergency, I’m leaving.”

“It’s real pumpkin. I’ll explain when everyone else gets on.”

Rhys huffed.

Finally, Jack looked into the camera. “I’m sorry to break whatever precious rules ya got, but this is important.”

“It’s always important.”

He ignored the furrow on the alpha’s brow and curled onto the couch, holding the tablet in his hand while he wrapped a blanket around him.

One by one, everyone showed up, curious and cautious.

Jack, sitting in his office chair at home, sipped his seventh cup of coffee that day. Frustration boiled inside him. He’d thought he’d found a diamond in a haystack with Rhys, but as the man got more rigid with his schedule and suddenly cut out early for unknown reason, Jack was starting to suspect the worst. Jack couldn’t shake the thought that Rhys was hiding something. He’d searched for Rhys at other companies and although he’d come up short, that didn’t mean that Rhys hadn’t been bought. He was sure it was Maliwan.

Did he really need Rhys here at the meeting? Probably not, but he’d hoped it would catch the possible traitor off guard and expose him. And being the only one who didn’t show his face in the conference call did not look good.

“Dahl has copied the blueprints of one of our guns in R&D. We caught the traitor, but not before part of the plans were transferred. We need to speed up production and get something ready before they can.”

As he leaned in his chair, he noticed Rhys had muted himself. He clenched his jaw at the omega. Was he contacting the manufacturer he worked for? He answered some questions and began the discussion for how to speed up production. And still, Rhys remained silent. Damn the man. Jack had really liked him, he did not want to have to airlock the cute, hardworking omega.

Tim had woken up. Rhys changed his diaper and got his bottle ready, sitting back on the couch with him. “Sorry, sweetie, your Dad’s mean ol’ boss is making him work today.

Tim cooed around the nipple. His arms moved aimlessly, whacking Rhys in the face and almost hitting the tablet. Rhys smiled and kissed Tim.

“-Finally decided to fully join us-”

The words Jack spoke was white noise as he held Tim’s hands so they wouldn’t thrash around as much. Tim’s fist closed and loosened around his finger. He kissed Tim’s temple, his mind wandering as he listened to the voices. They blended together as Tim let go of Rhys’ finger to flail around, hitting Rhys several times in the face. He laughed, wincing with each hit.

“What is going on?”

Rhys held Tim’s hand again, smiling at him. Tim, who had turned to look at Rhys, smiled back around the nipple.

“Rhys!”

Blinking, Rhys finally looked at the tablet to find that his camera was on. He swore and quickly ended the call. His heart began to race. How much had they seen? How much could any of them make out? Had they heard Tim? Had they seen him?

“Well, Timmy, this is going to be interesting.” His mind wandered to arguments he would have to say to Jack to keep his position. He sighed heavily. He’d began to think Jack was different from the alphas he’d dealt with before, but what if he wasn’t?

Tim was playing on their living room floor an hour and a half later when their doorbell rang. Sighing heavily, Rhys went to the door and opened it.

Handsome Jack shoved past him, arms full of bags and baby toys. “Well, no wonder you would never agree Hyperion was your first loyalty! You had someone who rightfully outranked it!” He set everything on the couch and gestured dramatically to Tim who cooed and rolled around.

Rhys stared cautiously. “Yes…”

Exasperated, Jack sighed loudly and heavily. “Rhysie! I thought you were a spy!” He laughed, his eyes wide and dilated. “That’s why I kept poking about your loyalties and the curfews! It was suspicious when you wouldn’t talk about it!”

Rhys’ brows rose. “You thought I was a spy?”

Jack shrugged. “You were so cagey, I didn’t know what else to think! But now I know you were just-” He stopped suddenly, brows furrowing. “Why didn’t you tell me about this cute little guy?” Jack crouched down next to Tim, extending a finger for Tim to grab. Tim took it and put it to his mouth. Jack chuckled. “I thought you’d do that, ‘s why I washed my hands before coming over, just in case. What’s your name little cupcake?”

The large, gentle grin Jack had mixed with his words and melted any resistance Rhys still had. “Tim.” Rhys sighed. “And if you hadn’t hired me, I’d be out of a job. My boss didn’t want me to come back to work because I was a single omega with a baby.”

“You were in middle management?” Jack asked, moving his finger so it moved Tim’s arm around in the air.

Rhys watched him. “Yeah.”

Jack nodded. “And you were scared I’d be the same way.”

Rhys winced. “No, not really… I just didn’t want to give anyone a chance to do that ever again.” He smiled at his small child and sat on the floor next to him. “He’s everything to me.”

“I get it, sweetheart and not just cause he is beyond cute, but because I have a daughter.”

Rhys blinked. “You do?”

“Mhmm, she’s away at some arts college. Her name is Angel.”

“That’s a beautiful name.”

Jack looked at Rhys now. “She’s a beautiful person. I was, admittedly, too protective of her sometimes, but that was for her safety from anyone trying to use her to get to me, not to keep my job. I do not tolerate that stupidity on my space station.”

Rhys smiled. He’d been almost positive he could have trusted Jack, and now he was extremely grateful for the man. His eyes fell on the piles of bags on the couch. “What is all that?”

“Ah!” Jack laughed. “Presents!”

“What?” Rhys frowned.

“Yeah! I stopped at my favorite children’s store and got toys and other things for this little guy.” Jack’s eyes flicked back to Rhys. “And his pretty mommy of course.”

His cheeks turned hot and he laughed nervously. “Well!” He stood and went over to it. “There is a lot here!”

“Yeah, I just kinda grabbed everything that caught my eye. Some are ones that I would stand by. They were amazing with Angel.”

“Like takeout?” Rhys asked, smirking.

Jack grinned. “That’s one of the things for his hot mom. I had hoped I could stay to share it with you.”

Rhys picked up the takeout and looked into the bag. “You going to keep saying those things about me?”

“What things? ” Jack asked, his eyes bright and playful. He went to Rhys, taking the food from him.

Rhys fumbled, staring intently at the takeout. “Calling… Saying I’m hot… Flirting…”

“Ah, yeah, I don’t plan on stopping that anytime soon unless it bothers you. I just found out you weren’t a spy and quite honestly, Rhysie, I have a lot of flirting to make up for.”

That surprised Rhys enough that he looked at Jack. “What? Why?”

Jack laughed, eyes soft. “Can ya take a guess, sweetheart?”

[elareine]

Snow comes down in June (TimKon)

“I don’t know if this was a good idea.”

Tim flinched, and Kon cursed himself and his big mouth. “Not like that! The sex was awesome. Obviously.”

“But?” Tim raised an eyebrow, visibly trying not to look pleased with the compliment.

“What now? Not going to lie, I’m pretty into you. It’s just…”

“We’re friends,” Tim finished for him, understanding blooming on his face. “And we live together.”

“Yeah. Dating would be difficult, and you’re, like, important, dude.” It was true. As amazing as last night had been—as much as Kon wanted nothing more right now than to add to the hickey already blooming on Tim’s pale throat—the idea of losing Tim made something in his stomach clench and scream.

Tim considered the problem for a minute. Kon waited him out patiently. His friend always needed his time with this kinda stuff.

“Yeah, I can see where you come from,” Tim finally agreed. “Friends?” He reached out a hand.

Kon grinned, relieved, and took it. “Best friends.”

In the spirit of everything being completely normal and fine, Kon decided to go and get laid with someone else. And he was lucky: The second girl he struck up a conversation with at the student bar seemed to be down. Kon liked the humor in her intelligent blue eyes; the way she gave back as good as it got, and didn’t beat around the bush when she asked: “So, your place?”

“I live at the dorms, so… How about yours?”

“I got three roommates, so no way.” She smiled, putting her hand on his shoulders. “Surely, you can arrange something at your dorm?”

Something in him squirmed at the idea of texting Tim and asking if he could scram for an hour or so. “Uh. My roommate—he’s sick. Don’t wanna kick the poor guy out when’s already feeling like shit, y’know?”

“Uhuh.” Her eyes had turned skeptical. “Sure. Maybe another time, then?”

“Yeah, that—that’d be nice.”  

But she didn’t give him her number, and by the end of the night, Kon headed back to the dorm alone.

Tim looked up from his laptop in surprise. “Oh, hey. Thought you were heading out tonight?”

Kon knew his outfit (tight black shirt, even tighter jeans) gave him away. He also knew that Tim would be kind enough to let him get away with it if he lied, so he shrugged. “Changed my mind. Wanna watch some Star Trek instead of working on that essay?”

“Yes, please.”

Okay, so that hadn’t been ideal, but whatever. He just had to get used to the idea of Tim as just his buddy again. Next time.

When Kon tried again, it wasn’t at a bar, but the Cockpit, their local queer club. As a group, they came here often. Sometimes one or two of them decided to streak out on their own if someone caught their eye, and today Kon was determined that it would be him.

It didn’t take long before some caught his eye. Pietro, his name was, and he was slim and athletic, just how Kon liked them. He seemed amenable to the idea, too, chatting with him for a while and agreeing to being bought a drink.

When he stepped up to the bar, though, Kon got a surprise. “Tim? What’re you doing here alone?”

Tim shrugged. “The others wanted to dance. I’m just not in the mood.”

From the corner of his eyes, Kon could see Pietro turn around and smile at him, clearly expecting him to walk over any second now.

“Go on,” Tim gently shoved his shoulder, though he wasn’t smiling. “Someone’s getting impatient.”

Kon looked helplessly between Pietro and Tim. It was no contest, really. “Actually… I’m starving. Wanna see if the caf still has some of those pancakes?”

Tim’s face lit up. “Sure.”

Pietro turned away, disappointment evident on his face.

Urgh. Kon was destined to not get laid again ever. Problem was: When he looked at Tim’s smile, he didn’t even mind all that much.

Maybe, Kon thought, the issue was that he’d been focusing on himself instead of Tim. Perhaps he just needed to see Tim be happy (or at least smexy) with someone else to get over this entire thing.

So the next time they went to the Cockpit, he made a point of nudging Tim toward every guy that looked even remotely interested, even going so far as ditching him when one was finally coming over to them.

The next time he checked, Tim and the dude were getting it on on the dancefloor. That was some foreplay right there, Kon thought, watching in fascination. Plan flawlessly executed, then. A+, well done.

It felt good. Really.

“What’s got you looking like old sour grapes himself?” Cassie slapped his back, making him almost choke on his drink.

“Just watching Timmy get some.”

She followed his line of sight and whistled. “Not that’s a catch.”

Kon frowned. “Ya think so? I’d have said he’s not pretty enough for Tim.”

“Pretty.” Cassie stared at him. “You think Tim’s into pretty boys. Pretty.”

“Yeah, you know, like those boys in his judo magazines. Dude looks more like a jock.” A thought struck Kon. “If he’s doing this to make fun of Tim—”

“You know what.” Cassie took a deep breath. “I wash my hands off you two. Go fuck in an alley for all I care, I’m gonna get another drink.”

Hurt, Kon looked after. Why would she say something like that? He was just trying to look out for his friend!

…was he?

The bus ride back to campus was way too quiet. None of the others had wanted to leave yet, but Tim had been busy with Jock Guy, and Kon hadn’t trusted himself not to interfere if he stayed. So. The first bus home it was.

At least this gave him plenty of space to be mad at himself. What the fuck did he think he was doing? He had no right to be jealous of whoever Tim was fucking. It had been Kon who’d suggested they stay friends, after all.

Worse, Tim had been unbothered by Kon’s earlier attempts to hook up with other people, so it was just Kon who was stuck on that night.

Images played in his mind of Tim grinding against the other guy at the club, shaking that tight butt of his in the adorable way he had when he was trying to be sexy. His mouth must've tasted so sweet, just like when Kon had been the one kissing him—

Kon banged his head against the window and cursed.

“Why in the world are you reading your English assignment at one in the morning?”

“Why the hell are you back already?” Kon asked in return, blinking. He’d only been home for half an hour. Tim must’ve taken the bus right after Kon’s. “What happened to what’s-his-name?”

Tim made a dismissive noise as he took off his shoes and coat. “Not really my type.”

“I knew it,” Kon whispered under his breath in triumph. Louder, he asked: “What did you end up doing?”

“Ditched him while he was in the men’s room.”

“…that’s cold,” Kon laughed. He wasn’t proud of it, but man, that felt good to hear.

Tim shrugged again, letting himself collapse on the bed next to Kon in a graceless heap. “Don’t really care. He’s not important.”

“Aww, c’mere.” Kon pulled Tim into his lap, knowing how cuddly the other got when drunk. Tim made a contend noise in reply, settling down into a nap while Kon kept reading.  

It was comfortable, Kon realized. Despite their claims to the contrary, they had been keeping a careful distance between ever since that night; only now, drunk and tired, did they seem to be able to cross it.

He wanted to spend forever like this.

Well, then.

“Hey, Tim?” Kon asked.

“Hmm?” Tim’s eyes opened slowly.

“I’m. Not great at getting over you.”

Tim was silent for a moment. “It’s only been a month.”

“Yeah, but.” Kon made to gesture at his himself, only to realize that Tim’s face was angled away from him, his hair hiding him from view. “It’s kinda getting worse.”

“Worse?”

“The, you know.” Kon really wished he was better at this. Hadn’t he considered himself smooth just last week? “Being in love with you thing.”

Those blue eyes still weren’t looking at him. “I thought we agreed it’s too difficult. That I’m too difficult.”

Ah. There lay the rub. Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes at his friend’s self-deprecating dramatics, Kon gently took him by the shoulder. “Turns out, I don’t want easy. I want you.”

Finally, Tim looked at him, his eyes big and hopeful in the lamplight. “Are you sure? Because. You gotta be sure. I’m not doing this again.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Kon smiled.

“…and you couldn’t have figured that out about a month ago?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Make me.”

Turned out, Kon hadn’t lost his ability to get laid, after all.

[goddessnemain]

The Guy From The Party- Part 4

Wouldn’t you know it, it’s 5 days after the Friday night he drove all the way down here just to see me and he came down again. It was Wednesday, my pool league night, which is fine. He picked me up. He took me for dinner. He went to pool league with me. I play pool on the same team as his buddy who’s bday we met at, so we were on a date/I was doing a scheduled activity/hanging out with his/my friend(s). We had fun! When pool was over more friends showed up. I have a woman I’ve known for 18 years. She spent almost 20 years in a very abusive relationship, and this woman can spot a red flag in a man before anyone else does. She’s pretty protective of me. She LIKES Party Guy. Likes him so much in fact, she hugged him before she left the pub. LIKES him so much in fact, she whispered in my ear as she hugged me goodbye “I like him, he’s a good one”. That’s pretty high praise. 

I decided that since Party Guy had put so much effort into driving 90 minutes each way- twice- that the following day, the Thursday, I would drive into the city and make him dinner. He couldn’t believe that I would be willing to drive to the city to see him, and he was even more shocked that I’d be willing to cook him dinner. He was as shocked that I would come and cook him dinner as I was that he would drive down to see me twice. It was February 13. I walked into his cute little basement suite with a backpack of clothes, a cooler full of food, and there he was with a single red rose in his hand and a little box of chocolates. He looked at me with a big smile on his face “Happy early Valentine's Day”. I was stunned. Embarrassed. Blushed. He handed me the rose and gave me a sweet little kiss. 

Melt!

It turned out he’d also gone to 3 different liquor stores looking for a hard to find bottle of Jack Daniels that I liked. He didn’t find it, bought a regular bottle in a nice box, but the fact that he went to 3 different stores to try and find this whisky for me!

Melt!

I made dinner, and we talked about our families, he told me about his sisters, his parents, his very normal childhood, a childhood of stability, loving parents, no moving around all the time. Just a very normal childhood. It made me feel insufficient because I couldn’t relate to the things he was saying.              

Making dinner was an experience. He doesn’t have an actual stove, just an element (we thought he had two but it turned out one didn’t work), a convection oven and a microwave. I made it work. He just watched me cook and kept talking. We laughed when we tripped the breaker trying to run too many appliances in the kitchen. We laughed when he had to go find an extension cord so we could use the microwave. And he slowly ate that damn dinner like it was his last meal. Turned out, he doesn’t really cook, doesn’t really know how to cook- with a devoted mom and 3 older sisters, he didn’t really have a reason to learn and just never has, but apparently, he can operate a BBQ like a wizard- and it had been 7 months since he’d had a home-cooked meal. He was over the moon about this damn dinner. 

We spent the rest of the night watching a movie on the couch. We watch a couple of stand up comedians. We just laughed and laughed and laughed.         I wound up staying at his place for a total of 10 nights.                                        

We went to the dog park every day- he’s got a huge black lab he takes to a dog park 20 minutes from his place every day. We’d walk through the park, he’d reach for my hand. If he had to let go for some reason, he reached for my hand as soon as he was back beside me. Even held my hand IN HIS POCKET one of the chillier days. We went grocery shopping- he’d been holding my hand as we walked through the parking lot, but I let go once we got in the doors, saying it felt too “relationshipy”, and he replied that he’s “not big on PDA”. Coulda fooled me. There were way more people at the dog park than the grocery store. He brought me breakfast and coffee every day from Timmy’s. On the days he would have to work that night we would cuddle and nap on the couch for a couple hours. I found myself feeling very comfortable and content in his space quite quickly, and I shocked myself when I realized it.                                          

After 10 nights, he came home with me. The first Friday he’d come to see me, he’d gotten 3 minutes out of my town when his car broke down. So coming home with me that Sunday made sense, so he could pick up his now fixed car the following morning. I had to be home that Sunday because it was my kiddo’s 19th birthday and I wasn’t about to miss it. We brought his black lab with us to my place to see if he would get along with my female chocolate lab. And they did. Aside from trying to hump her a lot, they did better than I expected.             We were lying in bed the Monday morning, I was half awake, half asleep, still groggy from my sleeping pills (I’d only packed enough meds for 2 nights when I went to see him the day before V-Day, so the first night back on my meds kicked my ass) when he says “Come back to the city with me today in my car, bring your dog, and I’ll bring you back tomorrow night”. I realized afterward what he had said, but at the moment, it was kind of a Charlie Brown “whah whah whah” situation in my head and I found myself agreeing just to make him stop talking. So, I packed a night's worth of meds, a change of clothes, everything I needed for my doggo, and away we went in his car back to the city. I was afraid. I didn’t have an escape plan. I didn’t have my own vehicle. If he refused to take me home, I didn’t know what I would do or where I would go. So when Tuesday evening rolled around and he was hesitant to take me home, I started to panic a little. As it got later into the night, he insisted we stay that night and he would take me home in the morning. What choice did I have?None. So we stayed, and he did take me home the next morning.                                   

He’s teaching me some pretty serious lessons in trusting people. Let’s face it, if you’ve gone ahead and read any of my other posts, you’ll know that I often find myself in situations where I get screwed over. And those are just the situations I write about. That’s not including the $200 I lent ‘You’re Safe In My Arms Now’ guy when he was broke and needed to buy firewood to heat his house when it was -40 outside, on the promise he would pay me back, and then refused to pay me back because he’s convinced I lost a $30 tool he’d left at my house (he never left a tool at my house). Or the $200 I lost on my birthday after the person that was supposed to be throwing me a bday party brought a new girl he was seeing, didn’t say 2 words to me all night because he didn’t want to make her jealous, didn’t pay me for what I picked up for him, and still won’t pay me. All the times I’ve had friends promise to show up and they don’t. The examples are countless. But Party Guy is teaching me that it’s okay to trust people, I just have to be more selective about it. 

I give him a hard time about his “other girlfriends” (that don’t actually exist) and say things like “your other girlfriends will be happy I’m finally going home” or “better warn your other girlfriends I’m coming to the city Friday night” or “I won’t just show up at your place out of the blue, I don’t want to catch you with your pants down and a naked chick on top of you”. He gets frustrated and says he’s “not a cheater” and that he’d “never ever do something like that”. Sure, all humans say that, but I actually believe him that he wouldn’t cheat. I understand why he gets frustrated, he’s a good guy, he’s a genuinely good person. He interrupts me all the time when I talk and I often can’t finish a story because he’s interrupted and talking about something else and it drives me kinda crazy, but he really is a genuinely good, kind, honest, respectful person.                                                                                                  

So here I am, right this minute, sitting at his place, chilling with his doggo while Party Guy is at work. I did have plans to go out with a friend tonight but plans changed last minute and I don’t care to make new ones at this point. However, tomorrow we’re doing all his running around and then we’re crawling in his car and going to my town where I just came from today, to spend tomorrow night drinking and hanging out with my friends/our mutual friends at the pub. We’ll spend Saturday night at my place and then back to his place early Sunday morning. It worked better for me to come into the city today, 1 so I could see my friend, 2 we get to spend more time together and 3 we can drive his car back and forth, it’s way cheaper to fill than my truck, and I won’t be trapped here, I can leave on Wednesday afternoon without an issue.                                          

I found out the other day that he and I are dating. So I suppose I’m in a relationship now. And I haven’t been in a functional relationship in over 5 years, let alone had a boyfriend. A normal, kind, caring, sweet, honest, will bend over backward to see me, boyfriend. The weight of those words are hitting me like a Kenworth truck and I am realizing I’m scared. He’s trying so hard to wiggle his way in and I’m trying so hard to keep him at arm's length. I’m going to have to give him some of the room he wants, and that’s scary too.

[miss-choco-chips]

Miraculous Ladybug Au part 1

For @iphoenixrising who I think might like the idea. Thanks for always giving me confidence hon. I hope this cheers you up a lil bit.

Where Dick is guilty for wanting what he wants, Jason is confused about who he wants, and Tim just wants to sleep.

<<-Hey, Tim, check this out! You missed big time! That’ll show you not to go on vacation without me to keep you in touch with the real, exciting world.

-Uh?

-Someone on Instagram just posted a twenty seconds clip of Robin doing something.

-People are always posting about the bats. How is this news, Steph?

-Shh, I’m getting there. Look at this. This Robin is waaay too short. It’s not the one we’ve had for the last three years.

-... and? There were two different Robins before him, maybe he just outgrew it or something.

-But, where is he? The others came back, with new names and powers, they… they didn’t left us.

-Maybe it’s just taking him some time, to decide who is he going to be now.

-...Yeah, maybe. He saved me and my daughter once, you know. Took one hell of a blow for us. Wherever he is, I hope he’s doing okay, and gets himself on track quickly. The city needs him.

-I’m sure he’ll appreciate the sentiment. And… I hope that, too.>>

Now...

He tumbled through the open window, face planting into his bed, the transformation letting up even before his forehead was properly buried in the pillow. His muscles practically melting against his Nightwing comforter (birthday present from Dick, oh the irony), the scent of smoke still clinging to it from the last time the boys dropped in for a impromptu visit (nearly scaring the bejesus out of him when he heard their voices and footsteps climbing up the stairs to his bedroom while he still was in the suit, holy fuck-!).

He wanted to sleep so badly. But he had maybe (it was around five a.m, right?) two hours until he needed to leave for work, and if he took a nap now, he might not be able to wake up on time.

-Are you alright, Timmy?

Gathering whatever leftover strength he had in him, he turned his head to the side, his almost closed eyes finding the worried ones of his kwami.

-Yeah. Only tired.

-I’d bet -the little bird-like creature huffed, his tiny black and red chest puffing like an offended peacock-. You are running yourself too ragged.

-Well, lots of things to do. Work stuff, Red Robin stuff, Tim Drake stuff... Not to mention, college.

-Speaking of… -trailed off the kwami, his big blue eyes signaling towards the desk, where his Advanced Economic’s paper awaited for attention.

Tim followed Rouge’s line of sight and promptly groaned when he got the hint, dropping his head once again in the mattress.

-Fuuuuuck. When was that due for?

-Tomorrow. And you’re supposed to met up with Jason today, and dinner with Dick after that. If you cancel on any of them again...

-...Well, it’s not like I actually expected to get any sleep today.

-Two all nighters in a row?

-It’s like you read my mind.

----.----.----

Then...

He met Richard at the circus, when he was four, but since the other boy didn’t remember (his parent’s death probably overwrote anything else in his memory of that night), their official meeting happened two months later, when Dick was formally introduced to high society as Bruce Wayne’s ward.

-Mister Wayne -his father shook Bruce's hand, fake smile firmly in place- and this must be young Richard. Hi, champ, I'm Jack Drake, and this is my lovely Janet.

Behind his mother, Tim couldn't repress a giggle. Champ, dad? Really?

-Good evening, gentleman -his mother, the perfect picture of a lady, smiled delicately behind her gloved hand. It didn't reach her glacial blue irises, but it was enough to fool most businessmen in lowering their defenses.

Tim himself had eyes only for the boy clutching the taciturn billionaire's sleeve. He wondered how was he feeling, if he had tried to fly at all since his parents deaths. He hoped so.

Dick had looked so happy while flying.

—I'm Tim —he butted in, when it was obvious his father intended to speak business and leave the introductions behind them— A pleshure.

He winced internally when the last word was mispronounced, and externally when his mother's nails sank into his shoulder in consequence.

-You'll have to forgive him, he's a baby still -laughed his mother, her hand letting him go and reaching for his father’s elbow-. Go explore, Tim. Your dad has people he needs to talk to, all boring stuff. I’m sure it’s the same with Mister Wayne.

Said man seemed to agree, though how Tim knew, he couldn’t tell, as the man’s expression barely changed.

Dick, on the other side, seemed absolutely crestfallen.

And he knows, he knows he's going to get into trouble for this the moment they are home, but the expression in the boy’s face is just… He wants to wipe it clean, like his nanny does for him when he gets tomato sauce on his cheek.

(It's so different from how he looked that night, soaring the skies besides his parents. Had been so… free)

«Was it then, when he started to put Dick's happiness before his own?»

—Mister Wayne -he finally gathered enough courage to talk, going as far as to interrumput his father’s speech about current politics- can Richard come play with me? Please? We’ll behave.

Dick's small, thankful smile was enough to warrant Bruce's permission, and seal Tim's destiny away.

----.----.----

Now...

-Tiiiiiiimmmyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!

He regrets picking up without double checking the caller id. So strongly.

In defense of his sleep deprived brain, it was an unknown number. So either Dick had a new phone, was burrowing someone’s for any reason, or he had caught on on Tim’s attempt at taking distance, decided to try and catch him when he knew he had his defenses low (before eight a.m) and bought a burner to accomplish it.

-It’s six in the morning. You better have a damn good reason to be calling me so… chirpily, at this ungodly hour.  You don’t even have to work till nine, why are you awake?

Because Nightwing, along with Red Robin, had been fighting an akumatized nurse  not two hours ago. But, since Dick didn’t know Tim knew, his obvious response at such a close corner was to deflect with a practiced, not awkward-totally-but-still-noticeably laugh.

-Come on, honey, where’s my happy Timmers? Who spat in your cereal?

Rouge passed by his bathroom mirror, where Tim was inspecting his reflection in search of his will to live, and like the god-like tiny thing he was, he rubbed comfortingly against his partner’s cheek, as if lending him strength.

Tim sighed and put the phone in speaker, dropping it on the marble countertop. He wasn’t getting out of this conversation anytime soon, so might as well continue with his morning routine.

Tam once compared it to watching a snake changing skins. From the tired, more-than- slightly-murderous teen, to the wow-lookit-a-respectable-young-man.

-First, you ever call me that again, I’ll rearrange your face a la Picasso. Second, no one uses that expression. And lastly, only you eat that crap anyway.

-That’s a lie, I know for a fact you have at least two different brands in your kitchen, even though one is an insult to the cereal industry. Fiber, blegh.

-Because one is for you when you visit, and the other I bought on an impulse of spite to punish you for… I don’t remember now, but I’m sure it was horrible and deserving of drastic measures.

He could hear Dick’s laugh over the line. Once upon a time, the sound would make Tim’s mood  lighten, like an echo of the other.

Now it hurt a little.

-You’re spending too much time with Jason and not nearly enough with me. You used to be such a sweet, eager to please angel. What happened?

-I asked your dad to let you play with me, and here I am, fourteen, fifteen years later, looking at my life, looking at my choices -and looking for his damn tie, which he swore he left by the toothbrush yesterday, where the fuck… - Asking myself where I went wrong.

-Yeah, now I remember why I never call you this early.

-About that, was there a reason, or you just wanted to take Jason’s place of honour in my hit-list?

Dick choked on a laugh, and Tim took the chance to quickly brush his teeth. His hair was a lost cause and he had learned to ignore it or risk spending too much time in a battle he wouldn't win. Easier to just ask Tam to brush it for him at the office, because that woman was a magician and Tim would fire the whole board of investor from D.I  before letting her go.

-Just checking in. We are still on for movie night, right? Because I might just use my power as a law enforcer and arrest you if you cancel on me again.

With one last look at his reflection (making damn sure his concealer hid both the black and blue spot by his jaw and his ever-growing eye bags), he picked up his phone and started for the kitchen. Rouge, bless his little soul, had plugged in the coffee maker, and the smell called to him like light to a moth.

And there was his tie, by the pot. Score.

-Movie night? -he asked, dubiously, glancing at his kwami. Rouge’s brow furrowed and he shook his head- No, we were going out for dinner. I’m sure.

-It’s Tuesday. Tuesdays were always movie night days. I thought it was implied, Timmy, for God’s sake.

Tuesday were movie night days back when they were five and eleven respectively, even before Jason was adopted, up until Dick started getting busier and calling it quits more often than not. It had been a while since they followed the tradition.

-Uhm, no, sorry. I have a paper due tomorrow, and was going to work on it after dinner with you. Can’t stay the night at your place. Rain check?

-...Yeah. Okay, sure. But you aren’t getting out of dinner.

He could hear Dick’s disappointment over the line. Once upon a time, the sound would ruin Tim’s mood, like an echo of the other.

Now, it still hurt a little.

(More than a little. Fuck)

It’d be easier if he could just cut ties with them all as Tim Drake. If he could get up and leave them, betray their trust, their love.

Like Nightwing had done with Red Robin. Or, to be fair, Robin.

----.----.----

Then…

Tim had known of the Akumas since… forever, really. They had been haunting Gotham long before he was born, hurting people, destroying things, breaking everything in their reach apart.

And then, when he was but a baby, the Batman appeared. Mrs Mac, the housekeeper, told him about it once. How, when the city was going through it’s darkest times, a knight of shadows and justice had risen, taking upon himself the responsibility of protecting the city.

Protecting everyone, really.

He, as any gothamite born and raised, had watched in wonder at whatever recordings the News Channels could provide, talked theories with his friends, stayed up at night wondering who the magic hero might be…

Until said magic hero recruited a sidekick, and Tim stayed up at night for totally new reasons.

(He’d recognize those moves, those tricks, but above all else, that laugh, anywhere)

He wanted so badly to knock at Wayne Manor’s doors, hunt down Bruce and fucking scream at him. Akumas were dangerous, whoever sent them was dangerous, fucking Gotham was dangerous, and Dick was his friend. His thirteen year old friend, who had been a hero for years before the lucky camera man had caught him on frame, revealing the mysterious partner to the world. And while Tim was a kid himself, barely seven, he was smarter than tons of adults he knows. Smarter than Bruce, at least, since he, unlike the other, understood the dangers of the night. Of Gotham herself.

He got as far as the inner gym, where Dick was practicing by the trapezius, flying from end of the room to the other, spinning, twisting mid air, laughing when the roof got too close to his face in one of the highest jumps. And then (maybe because he caught sight of Tim watching by the door, maybe he wanted to show off just a little, maybe he wanted to tell him something and this was the only way to properly express it...), a quadruple somersault, the one he performed for Tim that first night -even if he doesn’t remember that-, the one Robin was caught on camera doing, the one that gave him away.

And Tim, caught in his amazement of the boy, unable to take away this if it was what gave him his wings back, could only clap and yell ‘again!’.

----.----.----

Now...

-You look like death warmed over -greeted Tam when he passed by her desk in his way to his office. Like the well trained boy he was, he detoured, dropping in the empty chair by her side she always had ready for him. Within a second, his assistant took a hairbrush from her purse and started to work her magic in his head.

-Didn’t sleep and had to deal with a morning person before seven. You’d look just as bad, thank you very much.

-Dick called?

He huffed. Rouge, in the inner pocket of his jacket, pressed closer to him for the movement. He stilled immediately, knowing the kwami needed all the sleep he could get.

-That obvious?

-You don’t associate with a lot of morning people.

-There’s something inherently wrong with them, if they are happy that early.

-One of your best friends is like that -Tam tutted, working on a specially difficult knot. Tim didn’t dare complain, even when the tug to his scalp made him wince.

-Bart is a special case, he lives in a perpetual state of high. I still believe he takes cocaine and redbull with his breakfast.

She hummed, hairbrush now discarded in favour of her fingers. They passed through his hair without resistance, his bedhead (could it be called that, when he hadn’t actually slept?) all but gone, the movements soothing. There weren’t a lot of things capable to relax him, these days.

-Well, you have an eleven o’clock appointment with a possible investor, but between that and the board meeting at three, you are a free man. I can make sure no one bothers you while you cat nap.

-I’d love to, but Jason will come and drag me out of here kicking and screaming if I miss lunch with him. Or worse, he might find me asleep and princess carry me all the way to the restaurant in plain view of as many cameras as he can as punishment.

Tam shook her head in amusement and fondness, releasing his hair and straightening on her chair, her ‘back to business’ pose- I’ll never understand your relationship with those boys, I swear.

A sigh, roll of shoulders and he was ready to face the day too.

-Neither will I.

-But you’ll miss them, if they leave.

A flash of something passes through his eyes.

----.----.----

Then...

-I miss you. Don’t you miss me?

Dick, sixteen in body but about five in soul pouted at the screen of his computer, trying to convey the ‘mean, little brother!’ expression as perfectly as possible.

Tim snorted through his nose, getting comfortable on the bed; the notebook on his lap, back to the headboard of the too-big matres, pillows everywhere.

-I can use your bed whenever you go away, so I’ll go with a tentative ‘maybe’. ‘sides, you’ve been gone for two months, Dick. The exchange program goes for seven to eight. Give me another one or so, and I’ll be crying for you to come back.

-That’s an ugly lie, but I appreciate the effort -a change of stance, then the voice turned utterly blank- How are things over there?

Tim bites his lip, wondering, but what would he gain hiding it? If Dick already knew, he would expect Tim, as a young kid, to mention it. If he didn’t, he would find out soon enough and wonder why he didn’t tell him.

-You know how for the last few months Robin just… stopped appearing?

-...yeah?

-Well, he came back a few days ago, and either he shrunk, or it’s someone else.

Dick’s expression doesn’t change, so Tim knows he made the right call telling him; he was already aware.

-Oh? Another kid, putting his life in danger? I wonder what those child activists think about it.

-Keep asking for Batman’s head on a platter, like usual. I think it helps that this one isn’t as small as the previous one was when he first appeared, but, you know. Still setting on fire Batman merchandise in the streets.

-The original Robin wasn’t small. You are small.

-Reaaally mature, Dick. Since when are you in Robin’s protection squad?

-Always been my favorite hero.

Self centered, much?

-Hm… And what about the new one?

-...Let’s wait and see if he can fill the shoes.

-Lucky for him, they’re just kid shoes, no clown ones.

A small, real smile steals his way into Dick’s face, and Tim wants to throw a happy fist to the air.

He lives for that smile.

-You are a dork. Anything else new?

Again, uncertainty, but this one was easier to explain if detected. After all, Dick was aware of how uncomfortable was Tim in his new position as the mediator.

-Jason’s adapting. His grades went up and…

-Oh, look at that. Sorry, Timmers, I gotta go. My roommate is texting me that he wants to hang out.

-Oh… okay. Are we… are we face timing for movie night later? right?

-Yeah, yeah, sure -he waved a hand, as if discarding Tim, and he just knew Dick was going to forget about it… again-. Go have fun. Your parents are still traveling, right? Give Bruce a few white hairs while you’re at the Manor for me. I think he might get bored, without me there to spice things and kickstart his nervous system once an hour. The life of a businessman is soooooo dull.

(Except when said business man is practically a magical girl. God, once Stpeh had made that comparison, Tim just couldn’t unsee it)

He tries to laugh, but it’s empty. He won’t push the issue, and Dick won’t talk about it willingly, but they are both aware of the elephant in the room.

-Wouldn't dream of taking your place as the ever-evolving ulcer in his stomach. Take care. Bye.

He closed the computer lid and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. The situation made him uneasy. It was hard, being Dick’s loyal, loving little brother, Bruce’s unproblematic charge (since his parents decided that letting Tim stay with Wayne during their trips was cheaper than the nanny and housekeeper), and Jason’s-

-Hey, Baby Bird, you done talking to the jackass?

He nearly jumped out of his skin, neck almost breaking with how quickly he turned to face the door.

-Jason! -the automatic smile, brought to fore by the mere sight of his friend in workout clothes (he must have been training) melt into a frown when the words sank in- Don’t be a jerk.

-He’s a dick, pun unintended.

-Cut him some slack, it’s the ‘no more single child’ symptom. He’s just jealous to have to share Bruce’s attention.

-Ain’t he a little too old for that?

-I don’t think ‘old’ is a word you could ever use to describe Dick. Ever. I mean, he’ll be retired and have like twenty grandchildren, and still give off the ‘young, single and ready to mingle’ vibe.

The laugh is so sudden, so surprising, Jason chokes on his own spit.

-You’re a riot. Why do I like you, again?

-Because if not for me, you’ll be alone in this big, scary house, with only Alfred and Bruce for company.

-Alf’s cool.

-Yeah, but he’ll put you to do chores if he thought you’re bored enough to get up to some mischief.

-Sometimes you talk like an 90’s British book.

-Shut up, Harry Potter is my Bible. Besides, not like you can talk about british literature.

Another laugh, and the last of Jason’s tension faded away like a charm. Tim left the computer on the bedside table and stretched, getting up.

-Come on, let’s go find some way to make your Dad rethink his life choices.

-Fuck French, you speak the language of love.

----.----.----

Now...

It was on his way to that new Barbeque on Cameron Street, northwest from Diamond district, when the ground beneath his feet shifted and he and another fifteen passers-by were caught in what seemed like an asphalt cage.

In the middle of the street. With no corner to hide and transform.

Great.

There wasn’t any villian in sight, so the akumatized person probably had just wanted some back up hostages. Most likely, they weren’t the only ones trapped.

And that in the corner was a street cam. Fuck.

He needs to get out and help catch the bad guy of the day, but can’t exactly break asphalt with his bare hands, and transforming in front of fifteen eyewitnesses and a camera isn’t exactly an option.

So, he takes out his phone.

-What’ll you do? -comes the whisper from within his jacket, and he looks down just enough to look at his kwami without drawing attention at himself.

-Well, at this rate I’m going to be late for lunch. It’d be rude of me if I don’t tell Jay about it -he types quickly while he talks, making sure the annoyed (and it always stuns Conner, his friend from metropolis, how Gothamites consider freaks and monsters running around a minor inconvenience; how used to crazy they are) people around him aren’t paying his actions enough attention-. There. Sent.

-Hope he’s not  mad at you.

-He can't be, I didn't postpone anything. Just told him I'll be held up here until Red Hood gets his ass on gear and does his job.

-Should you text Dick as well?

-Nah, that'd be too much of an overkill.

-...

-...

-...How long until he comes guns blazing to the rescue?

-Two, three minutes tops.

It was the basis of his and Jason's relationship, the knowledge that, if in peril, they could always count on the other to come running to either save them or hold their hands while everything went to shit.

----.----.----

Elsewhere…

-Hm… the little shit is taking his time. Think I should go get him?

The kwami popped her head out of the bike helmet Jason had left in the extra chair he requested for the table. She seemed deeply unimpressed.

-okay, okay, I'll give him five more minutes. Then, it's fair game.

A sudden ping called his attention to the cell phone carelessly left above the tablecloth. It was the most obnoxious sound he could think of, and was as such his ringtone for the young man he was actually waiting for. It was a sound he couldn't ignore, or sleep over it.

BabyBird:

^Hey Jay, might be a little late for lunch

-That little…

Another ping.

BabyBird:

^Got held up on my way there, some akuma caged me and other fifteen people. Don’t know how long until one of the masks comes to the rescue

^Lol, some woman doesn't give a DUCK and just keeps fighting with someone over the phone about someone named Jerry

Ping.

BabyBird:

^update; Apparently Jerry is her son and she's fighting her ex.

Another ping, quickly following the former.

BabyBird:

^...I'm going to kill either you or Dick. Who programmed my phone to replace all swear words? You motherHUGGERS.

He was out of the door before the last text actually sank in and, by the time he ducked behind a corner, was already laughing.

-Tireur, arm me up!

----.----.----

Then…

He didn’t care who he pushed or tripped on his way to Jason’s room. He wasn’t hearing their screams and complaints. The sound he heard when turning left on the next corner might have been a paparazzi’s camera, or an IV stand he knocked down in his haste, but, again, it wasn’t important at the moment.

The only thing in his head right now, was the echo of that psychotic laughter, of Batman’s screams, of his own gasp when the news coverage showed footage of Robin, bloodied and hurt, trying to get away from a building about to blow up… and failing.

The full blown panic attack that followed made him hyperventilate so bad he actually lost consciousness, only to wake up to the sound of his phone going off and Alfred’s voice on the line telling him how Master Jason, along some other victims, had been caught in the same explosion the Joker, the clown that got akumatized every other week, caused. The same that took Robin out.

He refrained from yelling at Alfred to not lie to him, he already knows who Robin is and who he was before. He knows everything, so don't lie to him, not about something as serious as this…! But only because it was Alfred, and no one yelled at him.

Instead, he asked for updates, still on his phone while running to Wayne Manor, where the butler was ready to give him a lift to the hospital.

Jason was just asleep, they told him, like he was too young and naive to hear the truth. His body needed time to get better, so his head had taken a little vacay.

He was just asleep, the doctors said. All the while Tim kept running numbers in his head, statistics on how likely it was for comatose patients to wake up.

But Jason wasn’t another statistic. He was his friend, his brother, his hero.

Robin. His Robin. The one he watched from the very beginning, the one he discretely helped easing into the hero life by being always there, to unwind after a fight or hang out when the dangers of the life he lead hounded up on him.

The sobs he tried so hard to reign in were now freely bursting out of his dry lips.

When Tim cried, it usually was a quiet thing, tears rolling down marble cheeks, not a sound escaping his mouth. A cry for help from a child who knew no one would come running at the sound of his pain. A resigned thing.

There, at Jason’s bedside, clasping the boy’s hand on his own, what came out of his chest through his mouth was a full out, loud, broken wail.

The next couple of days were kind of a blur to him. He was aware that, at some point, Mister Wayne had tried to coax him away from the room and to his home. He knows, too, that had his parents been there to witness his hysterical tantrum, he would have been grounded until it was time for him to leave for college. Every few hours, Alfred would came and feed him small bits of food. Sometimes he threw up, sometimes he didn't. It was like tossing a coin on that one.

He thinks it’s a week later, but it could very well be a month, when he weaseled his way into Jay’s bed, careful of the IVs attached to his arms, and spoke out loud for probably the first time since the explosion.

-You don’t have to keep hiding. I know about you. About how… you gave Dick, and then Jay, their powers. I… I know I’m not the only one grieving, so if you want, we could… keep each other company.

A few moments passed by. It was okay. Tim wasn’t going anywhere.

Then, a small green and yellow head poked out of Jason’s pillowcase, big blue eyes staring at  Tim in wonder and wariness.

-...how?

-Dick’s not nearly as inconspicuous as he believes he is. I already knew he was Robin, but couldn’t figure out how exactly did he get his powers… Until one day, he thought I was asleep, and transformed in the bathroom attached to the room I was in. Doofus didn’t even completely close the door.

The little thing laughed, like a bell. Tim borrowed deeper into Jay’s side.

-My name is Merle, Robin’s kwami.

-I’m Tim.  Robin’s friend.

----.----.----

Now…

Red Hood arrived at the scene in record time. He was almost impressed.

Once there, the masked hero drew his guns, loading each of them with a brown and gold magazine. As far as Tim understood, Hood’s powers derived from his firearms, and he had different kind of bullets for specific situations.

He shot at strategic points in the asphalt cage, crumbling it to the ground. Coincidently, none of those points were near the corner were Tim was crouched. Typical.

-Is everyone alright? -asked the hero, once the dust had settled and they were free.

A few nods, some ‘thanks for the save’ then and there, the occasional ‘any clue where the Akuma is? I’d like to avoid it today’, and then the people scattered. A woman strode past Red Hood, phone at hand, yelling something about child support.

Tim took his time getting up, straightening his tie and running his fingers through his hair in an attempt at controlling the strands again.

-Hey -the masked man approached him, concern palpable in his tone- you alright, Tim?

It said something about his life as Tim Drake, that he was on first name basis with Gotham’s heroes.

-Yep, just hungry. I was on my way to have lunch with my friend, so I’ll be leaving now.

He saw the anxiety flash through Hood’s expression at the mention, remembering that Tim was expecting to see his alter ego at the restaurant, but he still had an Akuma to catch.

-Ah, wait! You mean, that Jason dude, right?

-Yeah?

Tim wondered if it made him a sadist, the satisfaction he got from making Jason, Dick or Damian squirm like this, putting them on the fence with his ‘innocent’ worry about their alter egos.

-I saw him on m’way here, actually. Said somethin’ came up, and he’s gonna take a raincheck on lunch.

He let the tiniest bit of disbelief slip into his facade, before seemingly deciding to trust the masked man.

-Oh, what a shame. I’ll be very busy the next couple of weeks, it’s going to be a while before we can meet up again.

-That.. that sucks. But, ah, ‘m sure he’ll get it. I gotta go now, kid. See ya around.

He watched Hood’s retreating back as he shot a line at the nearest rooftop. Perfect, since now he’d have the time to transform and catch up with him to help with the Akuma as Red Robin. If Tim Drake got the chance at skipping bonding time with Jason? Even better.

He wasn’t mad at Jason, the way he was at Dick’s alter ego, Nightwing. Jay never hurt him, never casted either him nor Red Robin out (exception made for the very first encounters they had as heroes, back when he still used the Robin miraculous).

But, since his alter ego had slept with Jason’s, he figured he had every reason to feel a little shy.

----.----.----

Then…

-You never tried to get to know him -he said, and it wasn’t a reproach, just a fact. Nevertheless, Dick still cringed in place, bending in on himself like a kid sent to time out.

-I… I know.

-He is just a kid Bruce saw something in. Like you, a kid who needed someone to see his brightest parts, and take him in to give him a chance at a better future.

-I know.

-He’s… he’s a very good person. Really smart, loyal and caring.

-I… know. You told me.

-You are/ Dick, you are one of the best people I know, if not THE best. Why would you treat an innocent kid like the gum stuck in your shoe?

Dick squirms in his place by the door, not daring to get closer to the bed where both Tim and Jason laid, but obviously wanting. Not that it mattered. Jason wouldn’t want him so close by, specially at his most vulnerable, and Tim was nothing if not the ferocious dragon protecting the sleeping Prince’s will, his surname all too fitting.

-Just… It’s just stupid, okay? And it doesn’t matter now. All that matters, is that he gets better. And if… when, he wakes up, I’ll explain it to him.

Dick wouldn’t be able to see him, because of the angle, but Tim catched the yearning and sad look Merle, hiding between Jason’s covers, sent his oldest partner. The little fairy (kwami, Tim reminded himself), his companion this last weeks in guarding Jason’s room, seemed as troubled as Tim had been when he was expected to mediate between the two adopted brothers.

-But not me.

There was something a little dark, a little sad and a little empty in Dick’s eyes. For the first time ever, he didn’t feel the compulsion to fill that void with happiness.

-I don’t think I can stomach telling you, BabyBird.

----.----.----

Now…

He intercepts Red Hood two blocks away from Newtown, still in Crime Alley territory but close enough to the other neighborhood. Since D.I was by Moench Row, just between the Fashion and Diamond districts, it took some time to catch up on the hero.

The fight is well in its final course when he arrives. The Bat is here, which means Red Hood is content on just sharpshooting from a close by rooftop. N and R are missing, but Tim already knew they would be: it’s not Dick’s patrol time, and R must be at school.

As the independent vigilantes, neither Red Robin nor Red Hood follow Batman’s patrol routes nor schedules. For the later, it means he can choose to stay close to the Bowery, Crime Alle and Chinatown, where he feels he’s more useful. For himself, it means he doesn’t have someone putting a hand to his shoulder and mandating down time after a few  consecutive hard patrols.

When he was Robin, he wasn’t allowed to fight during school hours, nor after three a.m. If there was some kind of emergency that required all hands on dock, it meant almost a week of taking things slow, because even if B didn’t know his nightlife protege was also his daylife charge, he would never leave a kid under his protection unsupervised enough to hurt themselves. Now, he can choose whenever the fuck he wants to help, and when he feels like leaving the others to deal with it (watching from afar how Dick and Jason dealt with a akuma with the powers of body switching people, and how the heroes had to improvise working with bodies and powers that didn’t suit them, had been too funny to actually put any effort to stop).

Shaking his head to clear it from the memories, he landed softly by Hood’s side, careful to not startle the hero laying on his stomach by the edge of the roof, with a long-distance rifle ready to go on his hands.

-Ya came all t’way here for nothin, Pretty Bird. The old man has it all in hand.

Letting himself fall at the edge, legs dangling and resting his weight on his arms behind him, he allows his gaze to travel through the skyline of buildings. It was a nice view, for those used to the air pollution and angry drivers yelling a few stories bellow.

-Had lunch cancelled, thought I might as well.

Hood grunts, shifting his stance to a less alert one. B clearly didn’t need their help.

-I had fucking plans, man. If B wasn’t in the fucking way, I’d put a bullet through the bastard, see if he lets himself get akumatized again.

Tim crooked his head to the side, analyzing the crazy of the hour.

-It’s a new one, though. I don’t recognize him. Probably his first time getting transformed?

-It’s already one too many. Our lives are just as shitty as anyone’s in the city, and you don’t see us fucking shit up.

-To be fair, we get our chances at therapeutic skull smashing when we keep those guys in check.

A few feet under them, Batman’s batarang was already boomeranging past the former akumatized transit police woman, slicing through the black and green butterfly and setting free the white and pink one trapped inside it.

And he hadn’t needed to move a single muscle. Sighing in defeat (he sooo could have used this time to power nap before his next meeting at work), he climbed to his feet.

-Seems like you were right, we shouldn’t have bothered to come. See ya, Hoo/

-Hey -interrupted the other, suddenly standing, rifle out of sight and way too deep into Tim’s personal bubble-, since we r' both here… no energy lost… n' we didn’t use our miraculous, so no chance of us de-transformin' suddenly…

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Hood, please don’t say it.

-One of my safe spot’s near. Want ta come for a cup of tea?

Don’t play along. Don’t play along. Goddammit, Tim, Don’t play along.

He takes that last step separating them, hands carefully delineating the outline of Hood’s suit of armor.

-You know I don’t drink your dirty leaf-water.

The other hero’s hands were big enough, they could almost completely envelope his waist, something never failed to arouse him.

-Good. Then we can go straight to the cake.

All the way to Hood’s (Jason’s) secret apartment, Tim berated himself, again and again, about how bad of an idea this was. How fucked up (in both senses, oh my god) was he going to be by the end of it. How uncomfortable was it going to be for him to actually talk to the man when the masks came out and Jay was looking at his best friend, not knowing he had had his tongue on his mouth, his neck, deep inside his ass. Not knowing why Tim was suddenly avoiding him.

Why he felt so goddamned guilty.

But, once they arrived to the place, and his back was to the wall not two seconds later, Hood’s strong body pressed tight against his, hands grabbing anything they could, mouth hot and dirty and doting…

He could only throw his head back and moan.

----.----.----

Then...

The city was in absolute chaos. From his place by Jason’s windowsill, Tim winced at the fiery remnants of the last explosion (by the library? It could have also been the post office), the hospital one of the few places untouched by the madness that was Gotham right now.

In his hands, his smartphone kept him up to speed about what was taking place on the streets. Apparently, the patients at Arkham Asylum had been akumatized again, only at the same fucking time. The Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy and Two Faces so far. Apparently, the first two had already been apprehended and de transformed, and the third was calm and unobtrusive at Robinson Park, but since they had kept the Bat focused on them until now, that meant the last of the lot had enough time to completely cover the city in bombs.

Which exploded two at a time, every two hours and twenty two minutes. There was a serious OCD there.

Perched on Tim’s propped up knee, Merle’s sky blue eyes danced from one burning spot to the other, shining like little red and yellow dots on the map that was Gotham from such a height.

-The library -quietly commented the kwami.

-And the Museum -Tim added, fingers tapping the location on the screen of the phone, on the downloaded blueprints of the city.

-Before that, it was the park.

-And the Aquarium.

-And the first two where the Zoo…

-...and planetarium.

-Why those places?

Minutes were ticking by. Bombs kept going off, unpredictable locations being blown up with everyone inside with them. Batman and Nightwing, Gotham’s newest hero, were running themselves ragged, trying to contain the damage and stop the villain. Batgirl worked with the authorities to keep buildings standing, her Eye of Insight (which, Tim was now aware, was her Miraculous) determining the most flimsy spots in the structures, the ones they needed to reinforce before the entire thing crumbled down.

And Tim was here, at the hospital, hearing the nurses and doctors doing their best to save everyone from being a casualty of the akuma’s violence, useless to both his family and the innocents from Gotham that were most likely going to die today.

(Everything because Bruce couldn’t think straight)

-Kids, Merle -he answered, his phone going, once again, to the billionaire's voicemail-. Those are all places where kids like to go, or have to. If he keeps the timeline, the next attack would be at two twenty two a.m, and it’s going to be…

-Gotham’s kindergarten? -the little creature tried to guess. It wasn’t too far off, since, judging by how many witnesses on twitter swore to have spotted the bat at Gotham’s primary school, B thought the same.

But it was wrong.

(Everything because, since Jason died, Bruce stopped thinking about the akumatized people as… people. People with minds of their own. With feelings)

-The orphanage.

(Horrible and twisted feelings, but feelings after all)

-We have to stop him!

-How? B isn’t picking up. Neither is Alf. Dick’s phone is at my house where he left it yesterday. I have no other way to contact them. And Bruce is so deep in his rage because of Jason’s accident, he’s so desperate to hurt something, he’s being impulsive. Reckless. He’s not going to think about orphans until it’s too late.

-We can’t just stay here! -Merle cried out, desperate at the sight of his city in flames, of one of his boys out there risking his life, and the other fighting for it in the bed behind their backs.

-Well, what would you have me do? -Tim finally snapped, standing from the windowsill and turning to face the kwami- I can’t just take a bus to Gotham’s school and yell at B to move his ass!

-Yes you can! You have to!

-I’ll never make it in time! There’s no vehicle that could dodge the shitstorm that must be the streets now, and unless you have some way for me to travel via rooftops, I would never make it there! I can’t help anyone! I’m not Robin!

When no reply came, Tim’s eyes, that had strayed to the window again, looked for the kwami.

Merle floated right in front of him, face determined, eyes pleading. He held a too familiar necklace, that almost every boy and girl wore as an ode to their hero. A green ‘R’, encircled in red, on a golden chain.

Robin’s necklace.

-But you could be. If you take this and fly with me, you could be. Gotham needs a hero. Batman needs a Robin. Your family needs you.

On the little screen, the reporters said something about Nightwing being hurt by a burning beam falling on him.

He made the decision before he could even think about it.

-Merle, help me fly.

Robin soared the skies again.

[thefalconwarrior]

Poisonous

Okay so...I’m doing tumbler now. Excuse me while i try to figure out how it works.

******************************************************************************************

Timothy Drake sighed as yet another argument broke out between Jonathan Phillips and Matthew Kramer. Across the table, Lucius Fox sent him an amused look and raised an eyebrow. Tim just shook his head and, grumbling to himself (internally, because it was unbecoming of the teenage CEO of Wayne Enterprises to be muttering during a board meeting) reached for his cup of coffee.

Tim was not actually a coffee addict. He only drank the normal amount of coffee that any college student who had an 8 a.m. morning class and no time for a nap between school and driving to Wayne Tower “to CEO” (as Jason and Dick insisted on calling it) whilst also spending at least 4 hours a night running around rooftops beating up criminals, and also hanging around the city as a “normal” teenager should be seen doing whilst also doing brain-grueling detective work and dealing with four nosy, wild siblings and an (almost) equally crazy extended “family”, would be drinking.

Which is a lot.

This would be Tim’s fifth cup of the day, but Tim felt he deserved it. The first had been immediately after five hours on the streets, on the way to Gotham University. The second two hours later, after a midterm exam. The third before another midterm, one of the harder ones. Fourth right after. And now, just an hour or so after.

To be honest, Tim would rather drown his exhaustion in a nice, long nap, the kind he only seemed able to afford while either benched or down with some life-threatening disease. For now, coffee would have to do.

Idly wondering who had the brilliant idea that the only available physics class in the whole university should be held so early in the morning (and wondering if there was some way he could pull some weight to get that changed—and, as an afterthought, the ethics of that), Tim brought the cup of coffee to his lips—and stopped.

Something...wasn’t right. Deciding to take the risk, he took in a quick breath of coffee through his nose.

Bitter, earthy, roasted coffee.

But it wasn’t right.

Tim sighed to himself again and, thinking that this better not just be sleep paranoia talking, set the cup down without taking a sip. Lucius coughed politely from his end of the table and Tim steeled himself before turning towards Kramer and Phillips.

“Well, gentlemen,” he said brightly, smiling against the exhausted pull of his lips, “You both have raised quite a few important points...”

***

“Yo, Replacement!” Jason kicked his legs over the sill and hopped in through the window.

This wasn’t the first time Jason had decided to disable the many alarms systems on Tim’s 12th-story office window and invite himself inside. (Hey, Tim did have one of the Bat Family’s biggest databases after Oracle and Batman themselves, they were all always “busy” in one way or another, and Jason was never the most patient guy) But it was the first time that Tim (who had been sitting at his desk, head rested on his folded arms) responded with a startled yelp while falling off his chair.

Jason stopped and did a double take, before he doubled over laughing.

“Oh, shut up, Jason,” Tim snapped, pulling himself up. (He left the chair on its side on the floor.)

“Aw, is the little Replacement feeling grumpy today?” Jason guffawed. “Timmy woke up on the wrong side of the desk? Didn’t get your coffee this morning?”

“Yes, actually,” Tim grumbled, rubbing his eyes, and when Jason laughed harder, he blinked, trying to remember what else Jason may have said that he had just agreed to. His head was too sleep-stuffed to remember, though, so he shook it off and looked glumly at the coffee cup sitting on his desk, a chem kit beside it. “Shut up, Jason. You don’t have people trying to poison you in your civilian life.”

Jason finally straightened up and shot him a smirk. “Replacement, I don’t have a civilian life. Now, kid, I know you’ve got some info on the Browne case...”

Tim pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed deeply. Of all things, did they have to poison his coffee?

[write-my-dreams]

JayTim Day 2: Sunburn

Title: Sunburns 

Author: write-my-dreams

Pairing: JayTim

Warning: None

Rating: PG

Summary: Jason decides that he and Tim need to get away from Gotham and go to the beach. Whether he has to kidnap his lover to get him away from work or not.

Read at Ao3

Tim frowned down at his case notes. He’d spent hours collecting information, hacking, and analyzing everything. What did that leave him with? A fat lot of nothing. He only had rumors still about the kidnapping ring tied up with genetic experimentation. What was he missing? Why couldn’t he find anything concrete? Tim groped for his coffee mug without looking away from the notes. There had to be some detail he hadn’t seen yet. He found the mug, raising it to his lips. Yuck, nothing but ice cold grounds.

“I wondered when you’d notice your coffee had gone cold.” 

Tim glanced back to see Jason leaning against the living room wall. He blinked slowly then did a second scan of his boyfriend. “Jay, what… what are you wearing?” 

“Beach outfit.” Jason wore red swim shorts, a tank top proclaiming “Losers Only Live Once” and then an obnoxious “I <3 RR” baseball cap. He grinned, holding up an oversized beach bag and umbrella. “Forget the coffee, baby bird. Brush your teeth and get changed. I’m taking you to the beach before you turn into Quasimodo. You’ve spent at least four hours hunched over your desk.” 

Tim put the mug down. “Jason, this is an important case. I can’t just leave my work so I can spend the day at the beach. I have to figure this out!”

“You expect to find a breakthrough in your next pot of coffee? Tim, I’ve been watching you. All you’ve done is scowl, go through far too much coffee, and work on those eye bags. Now get your pretty little ass up out of the chair and into some swim trunks. We’re going to a nice, sandy beach because we need a break from all the shit going on around here. You have three minutes to get ready or I’m kidnapping you and taking you to the beach.” 

Tim’s eyes narrowed. Jason was serious about this. He glanced down at the case file again, still reluctant to up and leave his work behind. Bruce wouldn’t do it. He would persevere until he found the clues he needed no matter how much coffee he had to go through or how exhausted he was. Then he would act. Tim knew he and Bruce shared the same obsession about their cases, but he was trying to be less of a workaholic for Jason’s sake. “I’ll come with you if that hat stays here.” Where had Jason gotten such a hat and what possessed him to put it on willingly? Had he lost a bet with Roy? 

Jason laughed. “I wanted to see the look on your face. Now up. Your three minute countdown starts now.” 

Tim got out of the chair and stretched. “Just us at the beach?”

“Just us.”

“Good.” Tim kissed his cheek. Jason’s smile made his agreement worthwhile. He’d have to set him straight in the car though. Worse people than the Red Hood had tried to kidnap him before, either as Tim Drake or Red Robin. Just because they were a couple didn’t mean that Jason had an advantage over him. 

Tim stirred as a warm hand shook his shoulder. “Tim? We’re here. I can set up the umbrella and the beach blanket if you want to sleep more.” 

It took a few moments for Tim’s mind to catch up. He must have fallen asleep during their debate about if it was possible for Jason to kidnap him. It’d evolved into a discussion of Red Hood versus Red Robin, and then Tim remembered laying his head against the window… “Red Robin would,” he yawned, “still win.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and rubbed his eyes.

Jason snorted. “You’re still thinking about that?”

“I am.”

“Fine, it’s a challenge then. I’m going to kidnap you one day.” Jason got out of the car and opened the trunk to pull out the beach bag. Tim followed him. “Take the umbrella. And put on some sunblock so you don’t turn into a lobster. Fuck, the glare off your legs is going to blind me. You’ve got the pale, pasty nerd look going on.” He laughed and dodged Tim’s playful strike with the umbrella. 

Tim rolled his eyes. “Please. You’re not much darker than I am.” He could push the kidnapping topic further, but decided to let it drop. For now. They kicked off their shoes once they reached the sand. Couples and groups were clustered around the beach space closest to the parking lot or food vendors. Go a little further away in either direction and it was easy to find a peaceful spot. Tim picked a direction and soon found a good place. Close to the water, no shrieking children nearby. Just some teenage girls a few feet away who looked at Jason like he was the Messiah. Tim would have to show them who Jason belonged to. “How about here?”

“Looks good.” Jason dropped the beach bag onto the sand. Tim set up the umbrella while Jason rolled out the blanket, putting their towels on it. “Shirt off. I’ll help you with sunblock.”

Tim tugged off his shirt and sat down with his back to Jason. The girls were whispering to each other and being none too subtle in their blatant admiration. He lifted up his hair so Jason could get the back of his neck then took over to apply sunblock to his chest, arms, and legs. “What’s the worst sunburn you’ve ever gotten before?”

“Glove burn. My fingertips and forearms burned while the part of my hand covered by the glove stayed white. Yours?” 

Tim snorted as he pictured it. “Mine’s the classic ‘farmer’ tan. I fell asleep in the backyard reading. Everything covered by my shirt was white but the rest was red.” He twisted around to face Jason. “Your turn. Try not to make the girls behind us faint when you take off your shirt.” 

Jason grinned. “I am pretty sexy aren’t I?” He waved at the girls, who blushed, but didn’t look away for too long when the shirt came off. 

Tim couldn’t resist kissing him. “You are.” He moved to stand behind Jason. He was sorely tempted to write “Mine” in sunblock on his back, but imagined it wouldn’t go over too well.

Once both were thoroughly protected against the sun Jason tugged him towards the water. “Join me for a swim?”

Tim smoothed Jason’s hair down. As promised, the offensive hat hadn’t come to the beach with them. “Sure. Promise you’ll never wear an I <3 RR hat again though.”

Jason laughed. “Deal.” Without warning he grabbed Tim by the waist and flung him over his shoulder. 

“Jason!” Tim shrieked. The girls were now giggling at them. “Don’t you dare throw me in the water!” He pounded on his back, swearing viciously when Jason ran towards the waves instead of listening. “I’ll—!” A thorough dunking cut him off. Spluttering, Tim surfaced to glare at his boyfriend. “You,” he hissed.  “You are in so much trouble.”

“Only if you catch me.” Jason tripped him back into the water. Laughing, he danced out of reach when Tim lunged at him. “Come get me, Timmy!” He splashed away so Tim could chase after him. Jason relied on strength and intimidation to get his way. Smaller than his elder brothers, Tim used speed and skill. So while Jason was stronger it didn’t stop Tim from tackling him off a sandbar and into an oncoming wave. Jason snagged him by the waist and rolled them under the water, playfully pinning Tim to the sand and kissing him before bringing them up to the surface. “I’ve caught you now.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Or do I have you?” He playfully pinched Jason’s nipple then shoved him back into the water. 

After swimming and walking the beach they returned to their spot for a drink. Jason rummaged in the bag to pull out his wallet. “I’m going to get us some ice cream. You want some?”

“Sure.” Tim scrubbed his body with his towel. “I’ll sit here and wait for you.” He flopped back on the blanket. He hadn’t wanted to admit it but he was feeling tired. The impromptu nap in the car hadn’t been enough for him. He’d close his eyes for a couple minutes while Jason waited in line… 

That Evening

“I’m glad you suggested we go to the beach today.” Tim squeezed Jason’s hand. “It was a lot of fun. I guess I needed something like that. Even though I did get a pretty awful sunburn.” He made a face as he looked at his sunburnt right hand and wrist. He’d shifted in his sleep and thrown his arm out from under the cover of the umbrella. “Also sorry for falling asleep on our beach date.”

Jason shook his head. “Don’t. You needed the rest.” He opened the trunk to put the beach bag back in, taking the umbrella from Tim. “So… back home? I imagine you’re ready to get back to your case.”

Honestly, Tim wasn’t quite ready to end this day yet. “Why don’t we go out for dinner first? Then we can head back to Gotham and I can work on the case again.” He had, at least, sent his information over to Bruce before leaving with Jason. He didn’t know if Bruce had gotten the breakthrough Tim hadn’t. Jason had confiscated his phone as soon as they got in the car.

“Sounds good. Wait, turn around.”

“Huh?”

“Turn around.”

Tim shrugged and obeyed. He glanced back when Jason whistled. “I just suggested we go on a dinner date and you’re whistling over my ass like some pervert?”

“I’m your boyfriend. I have a right to admire your ass. Which, for the record, I was not doing. Look at your legs. The backs of them are bright red. Think Red Robin red.” 

Tim frowned and twisted to see what Jason was talking about. Shit. It was his own stupid fault for only putting sunblock on once rather than reapplying after being in the water. While his brothers tanned, Tim always burned. “Great. Now I have two burns while you don’t have anything.” He huffed and turned to give Jason an accusing onceover. 

Jason patted Tim’s back. “I’ll rub aloe on you. And tease you about your lame burns,” he added as he slapped Tim’s ass.

“You’re a jerk.”

“Your jerk.”

Tim couldn’t deny that.      

Note:

Jason and Tim’s sunburns are based off of personal experiences. I did have a very unfortunate glove tan after biking and when I was younger, I fell asleep at the beach and had my arm out on the sand. My sister and I are masters at getting really awkward/ridiculous sunburns.

[thewordonmainstreet]

It Doesn’t Always Get Better And I’m Proof

It’s Bell Let’s Talk time again and with that comes the messaging that some mental health PSA’s say that “it gets better”.  Well don’t I have news for them, it doesn’t and the world needs to know that it’s okay to not get better.  I’m living proof.  My depression has never been this bad since I was diagnosed at age 18.  Now at 43, my body has checked out on me and I’m left picking up the pieces and I’m not really doing that great a job at that.  I’m exhausted all the time and even after a seemingly restful 8 hours of sleep, I could use 8 more.  When I try to nap, I just can’t sleep.  Sarah (McLachlan) said it right when she sang “I’m so tired, I can’t sleep”.  That’s me.  I’m barely awake and nothing, not coffee, not water, not energy drinks wakes me up.  I have no appetite at all, cept for fast food which only seems to fill the void but I can’t afford a steady diet of that on my income.  I only cook because I have to and I feel that I’ve failed as a woman because of that.  I’m eating like a bird, picking at my food and wanting nothing to do with most of my fridge’s contents.  I want it all in a hurry or not at all.  It’s a hell of a thing to have depression/exhaustion take over your life.  My GP said that she doesn’t know what to do with me.  She’s at a total loss.  I am too.  And then I saw her, a woman whose depression or sheer exhaustion had become her.  Wearing a housecoat and earbuds at 11:58 a.m. on Tuesday morning, coming from getting a coffee at Timmie’s.  I wasn’t the only person that just stared at her and wondered if this was early onset Alzheimer’s causing wandering of just depression turned total exhaustion.  That was me, walking home in a housecoat at almost noon on a weekday.  My body has failed me and I’m failing at life.  I don’t want to be this way anymore.  I’ve got hardly any fight left within me but I’ve got to fight this tired harder than ever because it’s taking my life away.  It’s sapping my ability to blog, to read (yes, I can’t even concentrate to read a book), to cook properly.  It’s going to cost me in the long run.  I’ve decided that I’m going to fight this fatigue aggressively and just push past it. I’m going to shower when I don’t feel like it, cook when I don’t feel like it and just push myself to do everything else that my body says no to.  I just got a job today and I start next week.  I know this is depression and I need to fall in love with life again and find the right job fit for me but until then, I’ve got to not let this become me so much anymore.  I’ve got to do well at this job because my boss seems amazing and amazing and boss together are just so hard to find now.  He pretty much hired me on the spot.  I need to work because ODSP isn’t enough to get by and I want to eat and live better.  But for those that firmly believe in the rhetoric that “it gets better”, this is part of the positivity agenda and to hell with your positivity agenda because not all of us can snap back to reality because sometimes life falls to pieces and not into place. People get so disappointed when they see you’re not doing better, they lose patience so quickly with those that never seem to be on the up and up.  Well those people aren’t my kind of people, they need to get some understanding.  Some understanding that some of us have depression that lasts a lifetime.  Some of us never find our place in this world.  But until then, I vow not to be like that woman, housecoat-wearing and getting a coffee at almost noon.  I’m fighting depression with all that I have within me and there sure isn’t much left lately hence my blog title and I’ll be darned if it’s going to sideline me to the point where I’m fucking up this much.  I’m so far down but it’s not over.  I’m in the 11th hour but it’s not over.  I’ll look into getting help from herbs.  Herbal supplements, not pot.  My life has gone to pot but I won’t turn to it as I don’t like the smell on people, but bless them though.  No way in hell is this going to put me in a worse place than I am now.  So back off depression, this woman is down but I’ll never, ever be out.  Because I’m stubborn like that.  And stubborn is a damn good personality trait because stubborn gets shit done and doesn’t peace out in the middle of the fight.

EDIT:  Just as quickly as a job was offered to me and new hope sprang forward, it just as quickly died.  I’m used to things being given and taken away just moments after.  Everything ends just after beginning.  As a major mid-winter storm weathers against my home, so has life once again dealt me a blow.  I’ve spent the day in bed, unable to shower and get dressed because of the disappointment.  I’ve hardly eaten a thing today and am drowning in despair.  I don’t think I’ve got any strength left in me to rise against the storm that once against has come in to ravage me.  I’ll just take each day as it comes and rest in the assurance that what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.