#one day I'll remember the patterning on the boots.... that was not today :))) maybe one day

[jamiethebeeart]

3/4 of the photos are just me laughing at the absurd posing but !!!! Updated Spinner cosplay!

And the back :)

[94badbye]

Gotham mourns the day of Jason's death, and Tim Drake should too, but he can't.

It's a day of pain and sorrow in many, many ways. Bruce wakes up earlier and leaves earlier, and Alfred speaks softly and quietly, as if there's real grief in the air.

(There is. Tim knows. He remembers finding out about Robin, about Jason Todd, and then realizing the bitter truth behind it all. Robin is dead.)

In the beginning, people used to call Jason a street kid, a rat. Tim's memory has always been fantastic, and he remembers people's harsh words about that young, young boy, and how Bruce Wayne was fraternizing with poverty, while others were kinder, gentle and sweet, because if even a rich man like Bruce can do such a thing, then there's still hope. It was stupid, and Tim still can't understand how people can be so shallow.

Such a young boy, and Mr. Wayne was a hero by adopting him, by taking him under his wing, by treating him like his son.

It's been months, and yesterday Wayne Enterprises made a big donation to some shelters of homeless kids that is definitely going to be in the news, something about Bruce Wayne remembering his dead son's life.

Bruce took the day off.

It's weird. Every year, Bruce will mourn like Jason was just killed again.

Maybe. Maybe the Jason Todd he knows really is dead forever, and this version of him is what was left, something different and twisted.

If Tim tries hard enough, he can feel the scar on his scalp, the ugly pattern on his skin, close to his nape. And he can hear the shouts. And the screams. And the sound of broken glass being stepped on. Everywhere. And blood blood blood, a red mask standing over him, fists clenched and hoarse voice.

He feels like throwing up when he thinks about it. It's kind of hidden in his mind, but not exactly—a blurry memory.

Sometimes, he closes his eyes and has a flashback of a bloody uniform. A memoir. The uniform of a young soldier.

For some reason, the second Robin was known for being ruthless. Sometimes, in the past but not that long ago, Bruce would call Tim by Jason's name, and wouldn't even notice his mistake. Tim wouldn't correct him either.

Today, on day of Jason's death, Red Hood is nowhere to be found.

Big boots, strong arms, a gun. Sticky blood.

Replacement, Replacement, Replacement.

Now, they're in the Batcave, high-tech equipment everywhere around them. Tim is standing but Bruce is sitting down, typing something in one of the computers, because a day off as Gotham's bachelor doesn't mean a day off as Batman.

"B," Tim says. Soft but not too soft, because Tim isn't supposed to talk about today, not like that, not like it's easy.

Robin was created to save and to smile, never to suffer or to die.

"Hm."

"Are you okay with patrolling on your own?"

Say no, so I'll stay. Please. I'll sleep here, in my room, and we'll wake up tomorrow like this day never happened.

Please.

"Of course. You should go, Tim. It's late."

Never too late. He wants to stay. Bruce is big and tall and Tim wants to hug him and tell him about the scar that is never going to fade away and the blood and the glass.

Look what he did to me. I mourned too, but look what he did.

Anger is something no Robin should feel, and yet—

Tim's cheeks are suddenly warm and he looks away from Bruce.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Alfred can give you some food so you can eat when you get home."

"I'm not hungry. And I can cook, you know?"

Blue eyes, just like Tim's and Jason's, but Jason's are also kind of green. Tim wonders how much of a father figure Bruce used to be—did he buy Jason books and toys and watch movies with him? Did Jason have nightmares just like Bruce still has? If so, did Bruce hold him through it?

Tim's parents are traveling. They're coming back next month.

Bruce isn't there to hold him when he wakes up in the middle of the night, but why would he be anyway?

And Tim knows Bruce asks his next question more because he needs to than because he wants to, "You know you can stay the night whenever you want, right?"

Even tonight?

"Yeah. Yeah, I know, B. But I have school tomorrow, so… I should—I should go. See you tomorrow, kay?"

Tim doesn't even talk to Alfred about the food. He just leaves.

[kalee60]

@larkboyd Larissa! I'm sorry you're having a really crappy, awful day! I get you, I honestly do, the last few weeks have been really... Well... trying is probably a polite way of putting it.

So therefore in response to your cry for a distraction and a little care and love - I present you with this little one-shot - I quickly threw it together in the last hour so apologies for any mistakes.

I hope your day gets better and that when you get home tonight you can relax, put your feet up and remember that even though we are all on opposite sides of the world @darter-blue @iamsherlockedondoctorwho and me (plus so many more) are always there for you 😘

Enjoy this Merthur fic made just for you!

*~*~*~*~*~*

Merlin sighed heavily as he hung his coat over the back of his chair, seeing that he was the only one in the lab's office once again. Frustration didn't even begin to cover it, especially when his phone started to ring almost immediately. 

Eyeing the most hated piece of technology on his desk critically, Merlin tried to work out telepathically if he could figure out who was calling.

A rap on the partition window between his office and the next made him jump. Gaius was staring directly at him, giving him the Eyebrow of Contempt, a phone to his ear and pointing towards Merlin's, which hadn't ceased it's relentless mating call.

"Welcome to Camelot Labs, this is -"

"- Merlin you fool, it's me."

Merlin looked up to see Gaius run a hand over his face tightly, oh right. Maybe he shouldn't have gone out the evening before.

"Were you at the tavern again last night, are you still drunk?"

Looking heavenward, Merlin finally sat down, booting his computer up and wedging the phone between his ear and shoulder.

"It's called a pub, Gaius, and what do you need, I'm extremely busy." He proceeded to place each of his three coloured pens (blue, black and red) neatly next to his blank notepad, adjusted his takeaway coffee so the pattern on the cup faced him, then picked up the red pen and wrote his name with a flourish on top of the page. The heart over the I, probably the best one he'd ever drawn.

"You're on your own today."

"What?" Merlin yelled, dropping the phone to glare at his boss who just shrugged in return, the Eyebrow suddenly looking a little more friendly in the presence of Merlin's plight. He picked up the god awful device to exclaim hotly, "You can't do that to me! I can't hold the fort down by myself, take all these calls, I'm not a wizard that can magically conjure a second Merlin."

Gaius did not look impressed at his sarcasm, Merlin grumbled some more and took a long pull off his coffee. It ceased to satisfy.

"I'm trying to get one of the boys from marketing down here to help."

"Oh no, no you don't. This is why you're calling me through the window? Isn't it? You're too scared to stand before me and tell me - I'm telling you, you can't send me one of those lunk-heads, those clotpoles who wouldn't know their arse from their -"

"- their what Merlin?"

"Gaius no!" But Merlin was speaking to nothing, Gaius had hung up and was suddenly nowhere to be seen. Gritting his teeth, Merlin spun around to watch Arthur fucking Pendragon walk over and put his bag down at the desk… the desk right. Next. To. Merlin.

He wasn't having it. Arthur was the biggest douche to walk the hallways of Camelot, always pushing Merlin's buttons in meetings, and generally acting like a Prince holding court. It didn't help that his father Uther ran the company.

"And what brings you down to the bowels of the Camelot Labs?" Merlin snarked, then opened up his emails only to see a hundred new ones. Oh god, his day was over and it hasn't even begun.

"Gaius said you needed help, so here I am. I can go if you like."

Merlin gave Arthur the side eye, "can you read reporting figures to let departments know their results?"

Arthur nodded and sat his coffee cup down, seeing that it was from the same place Merlin bought his. Huh, maybe his taste wasn't that awful.

"Can you use the online filing system for collections and batch records?"

The nod came again, while Merlin watched Arthur place two pens either side of his notepad. Rookie. He wouldn't be lending his red pen out, even if Arthur begged. And that was not an image Merlin needed to see in his mind. Arthur on his knees, walking towards him… begging and naked.

"Fuck," Merlin exclaimed, noting how Arthur raised a brow sardonically at him. "Can you use a phone?"

"Can I use a… really? Look, just tell me what you need me to do and I'll do it. And don't be a dick about it."

Scowling, Merlin quickly showed Arthur the phone, the programs and what he needed done. He ignored the crisp, woodsy scent that clung to Arthur's skin as he leant over him, and he most definitely ignored when Arthur's arm brushed against his then left it pressed there, for almost a minute. Not that Merlin was counting.

Yes, Arthur was helping, and it was much better than being there alone, but Merlin, although very vocally did not like Arthur, had always found him unfairly attractive. And that set him on edge, made him feel itchy under his skin, knowing that Arthur, who was basically royalty on the London scene wouldn't even look twice at someone like him. So it was much easier to be an arse.

Four hours into their forced working conditions, Merlin had to admit that Arthur was actually more of a help than a hindrance. And it grated his nerves.

"Maybe next time, you should write the batch into the system before you give out the results."

Arthur's brows were in his hairline as he turned to face Merlin, and he felt a flush rise up his cheeks, it honestly didn't matter the order you did it in, but he had to say something.

"You really don't like me do you?"

The retort died on his tongue when he realised Arthur was serious.

"Err, well, it's not exactly that, I actually think you're -" his phone rang, thankfully halting anything else he might blurt out unintended. 

A few minutes later he was off the phone and typing again, lost in calculations and figures when he heard the chair next to him roll over the floor, and it didn't stop.

Startled he looked up into bright blue eyes, eyes that were only a few inches away.

"You were saying?"

Merlin's cheeks filled once more and he couldn't help the small gulp, audible in the quiet lab. Oh god.

"I was saying that I think you're a complete arse, " Arthur's eyes narrowed at his words, "but if you had a red pen, and stopped taking mine, I'd actually admit you've been a huge help today."

Arthur's face transformed into a grin and Merlin couldn't help mirror it, having never been on the receiving end of it before, or had he, and he'd just blocked it out? But Arthur was still too close, within touching distance and as if realising it for the first time as well, Arthur ducked his head, before looking up again.

"Can I buy you a drink after work, Merlin?"

Startled, Merlin floundered for a moment, uncertain what was happening and why Arthur Pendragon was asking a lab tech out.

"With you?"

Arthur's laugh was deep and fond, another anomaly, "yes with me. I thought you were smart?"

"I am, thank you very much, ask anyone and they'll tell you that I can -"

"- no Merlin, I meant I've been flirting with you for months and you've completely missed it, haven't you?"

Merlin's mouth was agape, he knew it, Arthur knew it, and he snapped it shut. Arthur thought he was...? He wanted to go for drinks and...?

"I'm taking that as a yes on both counts."

"My god you're arrogant..." Merlin started but faltered when Arthur grinned broadly at him.

And feeling off balance wasn't something Merlin relished and as Arthur started to wheel his way back to his desk, he reached out, fingers tangling in the collar of Arthur's shirt and yanked him back. The wheels squealing on the floor.

Falling forward he pressed his lips against Arthur's, feeling the shock run through the other man's body, and Merlin smirked until Arthur's hand came up to cup his cheek, thumb running over the skin softly, reverently then pushed forward into the kiss. Oh. He'd not expected the feel of tongue against his, the slip of their lips as they deepened the kiss, nor hear the small unbidden moan falling from Merlin's throat.

It was the sweetest and most perfect first kiss he'd ever received.

"Well that shut you up for a minute." 

Well it was until Arthur spoke. "One drink, that's all you get Pendragon."

And with a conceited smirk that hit Merlin directly in the guts, and a push of his chair, Arthur put his headset back on and looked Merlin directly in the eye.

"Perfect, I like my coffee black in the morning, preferably before I get out of bed."

And Merlin could do nothing but snort and shake his head fondly as he answered his phone, greeting the person on the other end brightly, holding Arthur's blue sparkling eyes in his gaze. Maybe it wasn't going to be such a terrible day after all.

[physcoticfrog]

Part 16, Boba shop; take 2

Small thing (a/n): I know, right now it seems more written than social media, but I feel like it's really necessary in order for me to get all the details in. Social media makes it really difficult to set a storyline and to get in essential details. (Also the little circle thing means it didn't send, idk why it looks like that tho)

[The text message is seen through Daichi's pov]

(y/n's pov)

As you walked into the boba shop, all the nerves came rushing in. What if she didn't come today? What if she didn't recognize you? What if she hated you because you never came back? All of these questions were haunting you, but your thoughts were interrupted when a voice spoke.

"Hello, how may I help you today?" The cashier lady asked. You thought for a moment. Do you want a regular strawberry, or do you want a chocolate banana smoothie with the boba?

You made up your mind, and quickly ordered, "May I please get a strawberry yogurt boba?" You asked, as polite as you could.

"Of course, will that be all?" She asked, and the usual process of ordering and receiving the drink.

When you made your way to your seat, you made sure to sit at the nearest table to the door, and chose the chair that was facing the door.

And you waited, maybe 30 minutes. And that's when you saw her walk up to the window. She was still beautiful as ever, wearing a black halter-top crop top. Her jeans were black and ripped, while she wore black combat boots. It was all black, but for some reason it looked bright on her. She had chains all around her neck, but they were silver and gold, having all different kinds of patterns and charms. She had tattoos too, ranging from a tiny star, to big black wings on her back. Her hair was probably the only not black thing on her, it was a subtle dirty blonde, with some parts being brighter than the other.

You knew it was natural, because she said she hated hair dye, and that was how it was when you were a kid.

It was after she ordered and got her drink that she saw you. You could tell she recognized you because of the look that crossed her eyes. It was a mix of longing, sadness, happiness, a huge mix of emotions.

She stared. Soon, she muttered out a "Y-y/n... No way." You could hear how her voice broke.

All you could do was nod your head, and you hugged her. You both held on so tight, like you were afraid it would be the last time, because when you were kids, you never thought of it.

"God, I missed you so much. I saw you the other day, but I couldn't bring myself to talk to you." You felt like you were gonna cry, because it felt so good to be able to have someone you trusted so much hold you again.

"Why did you have to go? I missed you so goddamn much y/n." She sounded sad, but stern.

"I know, I missed you too Aiko. I didn't want to leave, but I had to." You hated that. She was someone you could confide in, and it felt like home, but it hurt so much to say.

She pulled away from the hug, and asked "Can I sit down? I want to be able to talk for a bit longer." Of course you nodded your head in a agreement.

"Has life treated you well? How far have you managed to get?" She sounded genuinely curious, a smile gracing her features.

"Yeah actually. I managed to get pretty good at volleyball, I met some really amazing people. A family, a real family, adopted me." You laughed, finding it crazy how much your life had truly changed. But quickly frowned when you looked at your wrist. You would be able to get your cast off next week, but it still sucked that it even happened.

"Y/n.. what happened to your wrist?" She now sounded concerned. You had almost forgotten how much emotion seeps into her voice when she talks.

"I.. I broke my wrist. Shattered it. I messed up a receive from a crazy good spiker." But, you smiled, remembering the ones you successfully received. "But, luckily I get it off next week and I can get cleared to practice again."

"That's good. How'd your team react to it?"

"Well.. funny story actually.. I got kicked off the team. Which made no sense, since I was number one for first year's girls and could bring up their reputation. BUT, their loss." You shrugged it off. You had gotten over it, and figured out it truly is their own loss.

"Damn. How are you playing or practicing then?" She asked. You could hear how she was utterly confused.

"I've been practicing with the boys team. My adoptive brother actually plays for them." You stated. You were kinda proud, being able to be a girl on a team that was slowly starting to climb it's way to being a powerhouse school.

"That's really cool. Have you made any good friends?"

"Yeah actually. Two boys I went to middle school with, and went to highschool with last year. They've kinda become my best friends." Aiko's face seemed to morph, but she quickly tried to hide it. "What?"

"Nothing.. It's just that I hate that I'm not really your best friend anymore and I can't be there for you."

"You act like that's your fault?"

She stayed silent. Aiko didn't know how to answer you. You were right, and she didn't know why she was so angry.

"Here, I should probably get going, so I'll give you my number. I want to know more about how you're doing now too, but my brother is waiting for me at home." So, you did. You gave her your phone number, said your goodbyes, hugged one last time, and left to go home.

You turned your phone back on, and pulled up your messages. You cringed at what your eyes were met with.

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