#source: tim key

[guardianreadersofthegalaxy]

Charlie: Can't you sort this out? You are a 'doctor' after all. Eight: Can you not do air quotes when you say "doctor"? Charlie: Why not? It's audio, no one can tell. [from 'Tim Key's Late Night Poetry Programme']

[kim-tey]

choirs of angels singing

[horneboy]

a pair of losers and their matching tshirts

[suigenerisisadiva]

Crazy Shit Y/N Wayne Has Done: PART 2!!!!

a definitive but not exhaustive list

Pairings: Batfam x Batsis!reader batsis!reader centred fic!

Content: Swearing, crack yet again

A/N: Lots of people wanted part 2 to this! I'm so glad so many divas like my work omfg!! Link to Part 1: Crazy Shit Y/N Wayne Has Done

Fine Shyt I need to tag: @inejinn , @softieekayy & @ilona2nerrie

1 - Took the BatMobile into a StarBucks drive thru with Damian and Titus in the passenger and backseat.

(Claimed it was an "eco-friendly carpool" was supported by Cass & Steph)

2 - Created a fake cult around Juice Cleanses to see which Gotham Moms would join in.

(Called it "Blessed and Pressed")

3 - Tried to crowd-surf at a Gotham Charity Event

(Key Word: Tried Nobody caught her and Tim made a TikTok out of it)

4 - Replaced every official Wayne Family Portrait with her face photoshopped into them, then made it her LinkedIn banner.

(Including ones prior to her birth, confused Damian for a looong time)

5 - Got kicked out of Gotham Prep School for starting a betting pool on which teacher would snap first (She won the pool, making Jason very proud) ("Mr. Callahan German suplexed a lit student, even though he teaches French.")

6 - Changed the BatComputer's voice to say "Slay Queens" every time a case gets solved. (Drove Bruce up the wall)

7 - Made fake love letters “from Nightwing” and left them in the manor to make Dick paranoid.

(They were written in glitter pen). (“Your arms are so strong. So emotionally unavailable. Marry me?”) (Dick started sleeping with his door locked.)

8 - Made a bingo board titled “Things Bruce Wayne Ignores” and crossed off squares in the middle of a press conference.

(Squares included: “Personal boundaries”, “Any child under 25” &“The concept of rest”)

9 - Ran a lemonade stand in front of Wayne Enterprises and charged $50 a cup.

(People paid for it.) (“I called it ‘Traumaade™ – tastes like spite and unresolved issues”)

And finally

10 - Texted the family group chat “He’s gone 😔” and went offline for like 5 hours.

(Came back with: “Turns out Alfred just went to Costco.”)(Everyone cried a little.)

LMFAO I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED THISSSS!!!! Likes, comments, reblogs and requests are highly appreciated! Requests are open!

Sources! -

Header - Pinterest

Bat dividers - @sister-lucifer

Grey dividers - @cursed-carmine

Bow Divider - @dollywons

This post is property of suigenerisisadiva

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Oooh! A great Gavin Finney (Good Omens Director of Photography) interview with Helen Parkinson for the British Cinematographer! :)

HEAVEN SENT

Gifted a vast creative landscape from two of fantasy’s foremost authors to play with, Gavin Finney BSC reveals how he crafted the otherworldly visuals for Good Omens 2.  

It started with a letter from beyond the grave. Following fantasy maestro Sir Terry Pratchett’s untimely death in 2015, Neil Gaiman decided he wouldn’t adapt their co-authored 1990 novel, Good Omens, without his collaborator. That was, until he was presented with a posthumous missive from Pratchett asking him to do just that.  

For Gaiman, it was a request that proved impossible to decline: he brought Good Omens season one to the screen in 2019, a careful homage to its source material. His writing, complemented by some inspired casting – David Tennant plays the irrepressible demon Crowley, alongside Michael Sheen as angel-slash-bookseller Aziraphale – and award-nominated visuals from Gavin Finney BSC, proved a potent combination for Prime Video viewers.  

Aziraphale’s bookshop was a set design triumph.

Season two departs from the faithful literary adaptation of its predecessor, instead imagining what comes next for Crowley and Aziraphale. Its storyline is built off a conversation that Pratchett and Gaiman shared during a jetlagged stay in Seattle for the 1989 World Fantasy Convention. Gaiman remembers: “The idea was always that we would tell the story that Terry and I came up with in 1989 in Seattle, but that we would do that in our own time and in our own way. So, once Good Omens (S1) was done, all I knew was that I really, really wanted to tell the rest of the story.” 

Telling that story visually may sound daunting, but cinematographer Finney is no stranger to the wonderfully idiosyncratic world of Pratchett and co. As well as lensing Good Omens’ first outing, he’s also shot three other Pratchett stories – TV mini series  Hogfather  (2006), and TV mini-series The Colour of Magic (2008) and Going Postal (2010). 

He relishes how the authors provide a vast creative landscape for him to riff off. “The great thing about Pratchett and Gaiman is that there’s no limit to what you can do creatively – everything is up for grabs,” he muses. “When we did the first Pratchett films and the first Good Omens, you couldn’t start by saying, ‘Okay, what should this look like?’, because nothing looks like Pratchett’s world. So, you’re starting from scratch, with no references, and that starting point can be anything you want it to be.”  

Season two saw the introduction of inside-outside sets for key locations including Aziraphale’s bookshop. 

From start to finish 

The sole DP on the six-episode season, Finney was pleased to team up again with returning director Douglas Mackinnon for the “immensely complicated” shoot, and the pair began eight weeks of prep in summer 2021. A big change was the production shifting the main soho set from Bovington airfield, near London, up to Edinburgh’s Pyramids Studio. Much of the action in Good Omens takes place on the Soho street that’s home to Aziraphale’s bookshop, which was built as an exterior set on the former airfield for season one. Season two, however, saw the introduction of inside-outside sets for key locations including the bookshop, record store and pub, to minimise reliance on green screen.  

Finney brought over many elements of his season one lensing, especially Mackinnon’s emphasis on keeping the camera moving, which involved lots of prep and testing. “We had a full-time Scorpio 45’ for the whole shoot (run by key grip Tim Critchell and his team), two Steadicam operators (A camera – Ed Clark and B camera Martin Newstead) all the way through, and in any one day we’d often go from Steadicam, to crane, to dolly and back again,” he says. “The camera is moving all the time, but it’s always driven by the story.” 

One key difference for season two, however, was the move to large-format visuals. Finney tested three large-format cameras and the winner was the Alexa LF (assisted by the Mini LF where conditions required), thanks to its look and flexibility.  

The minisodes were shot on Cooke anamorphics, giving Finney the ideal balance of anamorphic-style glares and characteristics without too much veiling flare.

A more complex decision was finding the right lenses for the job. “You hear about all these whizzy new lenses that are re-barrelled ancient Russian glass, but I needed at least two full sets for the main unit, then another set for the second unit, then maybe another set again for the VFX unit,” Finney explains. “If you only have one set of this exotic glass, it’s no good for the show.” 

He tested a vast array of lenses before settling on Zeiss Supremes, supplied by rental house Media Dog. These ticked all the boxes for the project: “They had a really nice look – they’re a modern design but not over sharp, which can look a bit electronic and a bit much, especially with faces. When you’re dealing with a lot of wigs and prosthetics, we didn’t want to go that sharp. The Supremes had a very nice colour palette and nice roll-off. They’re also much smaller than a lot of large-format glass, so that made it easy for Steadicam and remote cranes. They also provided additional metadata, which was very useful for the VFX department (VFX services were provided by Milk VFX).” 

The Supremes were paired with a selection of filters to characterise the show’s varied locations and characters. For example, Tiffen Bronze Glimmerglass were paired with bookshop scenes; Black Pro-Mist was used for Hell; and Black Diffusion FX for Crowley’s present-day storyline.  

Finney worked closely with the show’s DIT, Donald MacSween, and colourist, Gareth Spensley, to develop the look for the minisode.

Maximising minisodes 

Episodes two, three and four of season two each contain a ‘minisode’ – an extended flashback set in Biblical times, 1820s Edinburgh and wartime London respectively. “Douglas wanted the minisodes to have very strong identities and look as different from the present day as possible, so we’d instantly know we were in a minisode and not the present day,” Finney explains.  

One way to shape their distinctive look was through using Cooke anamorphic lenses. As Finney notes: “The Cookes had the right balance of controllable, anamorphic-style flares and characteristics without having so much veiling flare that they would be hard to use on green screens. They just struck the right balance of aesthetics, VFX requirements and availability.” The show adopted the anamorphic aspect ratio (2:39.1), an unusual move for a comedy, but one which offered them more interesting framing opportunities. 

Good Omens 2 was shot on the Alexa LF, paired with Zeiss Supremes for the present-day scenes.

The minisodes were also given various levels of film grain to set them apart from the present-day scenes. Finney first experimented with this with the show’s DIT Donald MacSween using the DaVinci Resolve plugin FilmConvert. Taking that as a starting point, the show’s colourist, Company 3’s Gareth Spensley, then crafted his own film emulation inspired by two-strip Technicolor. “There was a lot of testing in the grade to find the look for these minisodes, with different amounts of grain and different types of either Technicolor three-strip or two-strip,” Finney recalls. “Then we’d add grain and film weave on that, then on top we added film flares. In the Biblical scenes we added more dust and motes in the air.”  

Establishing the show’s lighting was a key part of Finney’s testing process, working closely with gaffer Scott Napier and drawing upon PKE Lighting’s inventory. Good Omens’ new Scottish location posed an initial challenge: as the studio was in an old warehouse rather than being purpose-built for filming, its ceilings weren’t as high as one would normally expect. This meant Finney and Napier had to work out a low-profile way of putting in a lot of fixtures. 

Inside Crowley’s treasured Bentley.

Their first task was to test various textiles, LED wash lights and different weight loadings, to establish what they were working with for the street exteriors. “We worked out that what was needed were 12 SkyPanels per 20’x20’ silk, so each one was a block of 20’x20’, then we scaled that up,” Finney recalls. “I wanted a very seamless sky, so I used full grid cloth which made it very, very smooth. That was important because we’ve got lots of cars constantly driving around the set and the sloped windscreens reflect the ceiling. So we had to have seamless textiles – PKE had to source around 12,000 feet of textiles so that we could put them together, so the reflections in the windscreens of the cars just showed white gridcloth rather than lots of stage lights. We then drove the car around the set to test it from different angles.”  

On the floor, they mostly worked with LEDs, providing huge energy and cost savings for the production. Astera’s Titan Tubes came in handy for a fun flashback scene with John Hamm’s character Gabriel. The DP remembers: “[Gabriel] was travelling down a 30-foot feather tunnel. We built a feather tunnel on the stage and wrapped it in a ring of Astera tubes, which were then programmed by dimmer op Jon Towler to animate, pulse and change different colours. Each part of Gabriel’s journey through his consciousness has a different colour to it.” 

Among the rigs built was a 20-strong Creamsource Vortex setup for the graveyard scene in the “Body Snatchers” minisode, shot in Stirling. “We took all the yokes off each light then put them on a custom-made aluminium rig so we could have them very close. We put them up on a big telehandler on a hill that gave me a soft mood light, which was very adjustable, windproof and rainproof.” 

Shooting on the VP stage for the birth of the universe scenes in episode one.

Sky’s the limit 

A lot of weather effects were done in camera – including lightning effects pulsed in that allowed both direct fork lightning and sheet lightning to spread down the streets. In the grade, colourist Spensley was also able to work his creative magic on the show’s skies. “Gareth is a very artistic colourist – he’s a genius at changing skies,” Finney says. “Often in the UK you get these very boring, flat skies, but he’s got a library of dramatic skies that you can drop in. That would usually be done by VFX, but he’s got the ability to do it in Baselight, so a flat sky suddenly becomes a glorious sunset.” 

Finney emphasises that the grade is a very involved process for a series like Good Omens, especially with its VFX-heavy nature. “This means VFX sequences often need extra work when it comes back into the timeline,” says the DP. “So, we often add camera movement or camera shake to crank the image up a bit. Having a colourist like Gareth is central to a big show like Good Omens, to bring all the different visual elements together and to make it seamless. It’s quite a long grade process but it’s worth its weight in gold.” 

Shooting in the VR cube for the blitz scenes .

Finney took advantage of virtual production (VP) technology for the driving scenes in Crowley’s classic Bentley. The volume was built on their Scottish set: a 4x7m cube with a roof that could go up and down on motorised winches as needed. “We pulled the cars in and out on skates – they went up on little jacks, which you could then rotate and move the car around within the volume,” he explains. “We had two floating screens that we could move around to fill in and use as additional source lighting. Then we had generated plates – either CGI or real location plates –projected 360º around the car. Sometimes we used the volume in-camera but if we needed to do more work downstream; we’d use a green screen frustum.” Universal Pixels collaborated with Finney to supply in-camera VFX expertise, crew and technical equipment for the in-vehicle driving sequences and rear projection for the crucial car shots. 

John Hamm was suspended in the middle of this lighting rig and superimposed into the feather tunnel.

Interestingly, while shooting at a VP stage in Leith, the team also used the volume as a huge, animated light source in its own right – a new technique for Finney. “We had the camera pointing away from [the volume] so the screen provided this massive, IMAX-sized light effect for the actors. We had a simple animation of the expanding universe projected onto the screen so the actors could actually see it, and it gave me the animated light back on the actors.”  

Bringing such esteemed authors’ imaginations to the screen is no small task, but Finney was proud to helped bring Crowley and Aziraphale’s adventures to life once again. He adds: “What’s nice about Good Omens, especially when there’s so much bad news in the world, is that it’s a good news show. It’s a very funny show. It’s also about good and evil, love and doing the right thing, people getting together irrespective of backgrounds. It’s a hopeful message, and I think that that’s what we all need.” 

Finney is no stranger to the idiosyncratic world of Sir Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.

[suzukiblu]

Day seventeen of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Fuck yeah,” Kon says with a grin as he accepts the source of all delicious chocolatey-sugary caramel smells in the room. “Thanks, man.” 

“My bad for not paying enough attention to your specs, just picked myself a whole bouquet of whoopsy-daisies there,” Bernard says, and Tim laughs again, and Kon buries a snigger of his own in the hot chocolate and narrowly avoids getting caramel on his nose. He still feels a little–disconnected, maybe, like his TTK’s maybe a little off-center or something. Like his equilibrium or his sense of balance or whatever isn’t exactly fitting right, maybe. 

Bernard is still just fucking funny, though. 

Kon takes a swallow of the hot chocolate, since again he does not need to worry about burning his tastebuds off or even a light scalding, and–oh Jesus, the caramel is actually in the hot chocolate, isn’t it. Jesus. 

Ma is never gonna forgive him for the amount of recipes he is apparently gonna be asking Tim’s boyfriend for, yeah. 

“Actually maybe I am the marrying kind,” he mutters under his breath, then takes a long sip of hot chocolate. Jesus. Just–Jeeeeesus. “What the fuck does Gotham put in the hot chocolate?” 

“Well, this time I did cocoa powder, milk, powdered sugar, and caramel sauce,” Bernard says. Kon stops mid-sip just to stare blankly at him. “But like, Batburger for example has a recipe that’s a bit more questionable and has occasionally been compromised by Condiment King, so that’s a whole other thing.” 

“Tim,” Kon says, turning his head just enough to eye Tim instead, because he really just needs a minute here. Like, just for his stupid weird brain’s sake, if nothing else. “Where the fuck did you find this dude and what the fuck did you do to earn him? Like, karmically-speaking or whatever. I just need to know what’s better than literally fucking dying to save the world, because I am not pulling chicks who make hot chocolate from fucking scratch. I didn’t know you fucking could make hot chocolate from scratch.” 

“I mean, it’s just better that way, y’know?” Bernard says with a shrug. “Though in retrospect I could’ve just made hot caramel milk, I dunno if that’d be your thing though.” 

Kon is possibly eyeing Tim accusingly now. Tim grins slyly at him in return and picks up his latte to blow gently on it. Bernard literally drew a heart in the foam, because Tim’s a terrible person who stole all the good karma in the world, apparently. Though seriously, Kon doesn’t even know how the dude made a latte, Tim doesn’t even have an espresso machine or whatever. Like, the limited counter space thing was not an exaggeration in any way, shape, or form. 

Tim is literally terrible, yeah, Kon decides. Absolute worst best friend a guy could have. 

Like, aside from the part where he’s saved his life a few thousand times and also just fucked him so good that he low-key had a nervous breakdown about it, anyway. The dick really is just that good, apparently. 

Kon might actually sulk a little when Clark locks up the pink K. Like hello, no one else is using it for anything; why can’t he just keep it? 

“So like do you have a sister? Maybe a super-close cousin or something?” he asks Bernard, giving him a speculative look. 

“Only child, and all my cousins are like fifteen years older than us and either in jail or married with kids,” Bernard replies with a laugh. 

“So what I’m hearing is conjugal visits and MILFs,” Kon says reasonably, flashing him a sharp grin before taking another sip of really fucking good hot chocolate, and Bernard laughs again. “More importantly, do any of them come in ‘cute blonde who knows how to cook’ too?” 

“I’ll tell you when you’re straight again and can properly appreciate them,” Bernard says, still snickering. “No offense to the Dowd family line or anything, just none of us are Starfire-level here. Eh, well, maybe Cousin Nina is bridging the gap a little, but that’s about it.” 

“Fair,” Kon allows, then takes another drink. He feels like there's something he should be thinking of, but he can’t quite–

“‘Nina’?” Tim repeats, tilting his head slowly to one side. “Uh . . . maternal or paternal cousin, Bernard?” 

“Paternal,” Bernard says. “Why?” 

“Bernard,” Tim says. “Did we get your cousin arrested?”

[pedgito]

well, january is finally over. i feel like this month has dragged, but the surplus of fics have kept me going. this one includes a few wildcards (and a lot of smut) that i'm blaming on friends. as always, i can't wait to see what everyone is cooking up as the year progresses!

this key will help you figure out which fics are more your vibe, or if you’re just curious of the contents before you dive in:

smut = 🌶️, fluff = ☁️ angst = ☄️

total fics listed below: 24

✎ — 𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑

↝ the warden by @arcanefox207 — 🌶️ (DDDNE, dubcon)

Your hike into the woods doesn’t go as planned when a depraved Game Warden catches you breaking the rules.

↝ hotline to heaven by @chaotic-mystery — 🌶️

An inquisitive man gets more than what he's used to when he pushes the wrong number on a phone sex hotline.

↝ me and the devil by @gracieheartspedro — 🌶️, ☄️ (dubcon)

Joel seeks out revenge on the man who stole from him. He finds you in the process. 

↝ cake by @/wannab-urs — ☄️

You make a cake for Joel on his birthday, but it doesn’t go well. 

↝ father figure by @gutsby — 🌶️

Parents’ Weekend looks a little different this year with Joel showing up in the place of your father.

✎ — 𝐉𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐀

↝ strangers by @joelmillerisapunk — 🌶️

You meet a sexy stripper at your bestie's bachelorette party and he tries his absolute hardest to get your number

↝ read it again by @almostfoxglove — ☁️

Your best-selling novel is being turned into a Hollywood blockbuster. Ordered to tweak some awkward lines with the lead actor, you've got no clue that the Javier Peña is a massive fan of the source material. He has no idea that the script doctor Stechner just sent to babysit him is the author of his favorite book.

✎ — 𝐓𝐈𝐌 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐃

↝ the impaler by @kiwisbell — 🌶️

Chief Detective Tim Rockford makes a breakthrough in New York City’s latest serial killer case. The mysterious culprit is in the mood to share more than information.

↝ cuffed to the grind by @whocaresstillthelouvre — 🌶️

You're working late 'cause you're a detective. Oh Tim looks so good handcuffed to a chair.

✎ — 𝐃𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐉𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍

↝ bedroom hymns by @saradika — 🌶️

mand'alor!sub!din x wife!dom!reader

↝ pas de deux (series) by @burntheedges — ☄️, ☁️, 🌶️ (finished)

When Din Djarin – principal dancer at Concordia Ballet Company and generational talent in the classical style – suddenly left CBC and joined the Nevarro Ballet Theater mid-season, it shocked the ballet world. You never would have guessed that he would change your life, too.

↝ the apostate (series) by @murder-wife

Din Djarin is the most beautiful Angel in existence. The only thing that matches his beauty is his pride. He just can't help but meddle in the affairs of the Mortals. This time, he's gone too far and must be taught a lesson.

↝ beg by @amanitacowboy — 🌶️

Din tortures and edges you with a remote control vibrator.

↝ your king & lionheart (+ marcus acacius) by @kedsandtubesocks

Trouble grows & you’re in need of a personal guard, thankfully Rome’s grand general seems to be perfect - not just for you (but maybe for your husband as well)

✎ — 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐎

↝ never have i ever by @wannab-urs — 🌶️

You and Dieter play never have I ever and it gets spicy.

↝ chaos angel by @always-andromeda — 🌶️, ☄️

It's Emmy night. And your infamous ex-boyfriend is stirring up all kinds of trouble for you.

✎ — 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒

↝ she keeps me up by @iamasaddie — 🌶️

After having sex with you, Lucien is losing his mind over it, unable to let you go from his m

✎ — 𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊

↝ the man whose hands are stained by @jolapeno — 🌶️

This week, a man (single) recounts an intimate encounter with his neighbour—a woman who’s lingered in his thoughts far longer than he cares to admit.

↝ pretty in pink by @/gracieheartspedro — 🌶️

You don't stay awake for Dave's arrival. He finds you in bed in a compromising position.

↝ yes, ma'am by @sizzlingcloudmentality — 🌶️

Life goes sideways and Dave is close to snapping. He needs professional help aka let himself be dominated and be at the receiving end for once. Good thing he has your number.

↝ ice cold by @punkshort — 🌶️, ☄️

Dave ghosts you, so you get even by dating someone else in the office. That doesn't sit well with Dave.

✎ — 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄

↝ just once by @eupheme — 🌶️

You know you shouldn’t look for the handsome stranger that shows up, night after night. Should lock your window, forget you saw him. That’s the smart thing to do, after all. But you think you might like that he needs you. That you can’t stop thinking about him. That you can’t stop wanting more.

✎ — 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

↝ cotton mouth by @/gracieheartspedro — 🌶️, ☁️

You need a new dealer and you know a guy through the unfortunate grapevine you used to be wrapped up in. But I mean... the banter is great, and you cannot help but fall for him. But don't fret, he feels the same way.

↝ my, my those eyes like fire by @the-unforgivenn — 🌶️

You’ve heard of the classic Same Bed Trope? Well, what would you call it when all you expect to do is fall asleep in luxury after a missed flight, only to find the room already occupied? Same Hotel Room Trope?

likes, reblogs, and comments keep the motivation alive, so if you’re taking a look at these for the first time, please leave a kind word for these writers or just reblog, even. support your writers <3

[palmanatomy]

Something that really annoys me in this fandom is when people immediately push Bruce's characteristics onto the rest of the Batfam. The whole 'contingency plans for my team' thing is all Bruce's paranoia based off of his personal trust issues. It's a key part of Batmans character that he is always prepared and the Tower of Babel arc is supposed to show that this paranoia and trust issues can manifest into something harmful. Also, Bruce's paranoia is a character flaw of Bruce, not of Dick, not of Jason, not of Damian, and certainly not of Tim. Yes, Tim has been described as the most like Bruce, but that is reflective of his detective skills and intuition. That doesn't mean his personality is like Bruce or that he has the same opinions. In fact, theres a whole arc in YJ where the team accuses Tim of having these contingencies like Bruce and he dismisses this entirely, saying that Bruce has colleagues but Tim has friends.

It's Young Justice issue #36 if anyone wanted to know. But Tim is trusting of his friends and he's not some depressed, neglected kid who stalks Batman and is addicted to coffee. He only got out and took photos to collect evidence to give to Dick in a Lonely Place of Dying where he is, correct me if I'm wrong, 13 or 14, because he is a detective. He knows he needs to present evidence of Batmans unhealthy behaviour to get Dick to listen. And his parents aren't abusive. Sure they're a little neglectful, but they love him. Its literally in the character description on wikipedia that they love him but have a lot of buisness trips they have to go on. Another assumption is that Tim is antisocial, which makes no sense because he makes friends literally everywhere he goes. He's a likeable guy. And Jason didn't try to kill him, he just wanted to rough him up a little and Tim landed some hits too. Jason actually comes out with newfound respect for him and goes on to say he's his favourite brother. Tim is only really depressed in Red Robin 2009 but thats only after everyone that he loves has died or left him. Tim is social, loyal, nerdy, and a little bit of a player like Bruce. But he isn't some broody guy with trust issues that everyone makes him out to be. He's his own character. Sure, he's a little similar to Bruce but he isn't a carbon copy. Some people need to understand this. And don't get me started on those 'DC stands for disregard canon' people because you have to actually read the source material to disregard it. Most people saying this haven't picked up a comic and have their knowledge of DC from Tumblr Batfam posts. Which is a pity, because some of the comics are so fucking good.

This turned into a rant about the character assassination of Tim Drake, but my point still stands. Each member of the Batfamily has their own personalities and character flaws. Bruce is prepared and cunning, but he's also paranoid and tends to push people away. Dick is funny, but he also overworks himself and has a fear of failure. Jason is reckless, but he's also loyal and passionate. Tim is smart, but he's also a perfectionist and a control freak. Damian is self assured, but he is also arrogant. Cass has strong morals but she can also be stubborn. They all show traits of Bruce, but they are their own characters beyond that with their own flaws and strengths that people need to acknowledge. They're all unique, incredible characters that deserve to be represented as what they are instead of being lumped with the same annoying traits of Bruce Wayne.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Edward Scissorhands x Reader

On her quest to make at least one sale for the day, Avon lady Peg cautiously steps into the eerie mansion of a known inventor. She soon learns that it has long been devoid of life, with the exception of Edward, a synthetic human creation left unfinished. She returns to the bright suburbs accompanied by the poor young man, earning the curious stares of the bystanders. Among the colorful houses, however, Edward spots a gloomy dwelling that the neighbors seem to avoid. Who is the mysterious occupant?

Winner of the Halloween Poll! A short gothic romance in the style of Tim Burton, where two outsiders find solace in each other.

[Horror Masterlist]

The light yellow car slows down as it reaches the driveway and the engine stops. Peg makes her way out and hurries over to the passenger side, keys dangling between her fingers. She helps Edward out once she sees him awkwardly shuffling in the seat, unsure of his next step.

"You'll love it here. I just know it."

The woman hastily closes the door behind the tall, peculiar visitor. She places a gentle hand on his back and guides him down the asphalted path. 

Edward's gaze briefly wanders further into the street. The houses are slithering along neatly, their vivid colors somewhat tiring to his unaccustomed eyes. Yet one of them sticks out. Strangely enough, it reminds him of home. A rusty iron fence surrounds the property, and patches of lush, unkempt vegetation creep through the bars. The walls are dark and crooked and the black tiled roof casts a shadow over the entire abode.  

"Who lives there?" The question escapes his lips almost unconsciously. 

Peg follows his gaze, eager to introduce the area to him. Once she settles on the source of his inquiry, her smile falters for a second.

"Oh, my. That's, well..." she lets out a forced laugh and encourages him to continue walking. "I'm glad you're already so curious, Edward dear. You'll get to know everyone soon, don't worry about it."

One more push and the guest has securely entered the house. As she prepares to twist the knob into a lock, she peeks out for the last time, surveying the surroundings with mild worry. A neighbor is walking their dog, whistling in the distance. As they approach the mysterious building, the animal begins to bark and the owner scurries to the other side of the street. 

"He's so...strange!" one housewife exclaims, sipping on her lemonade.

Joyce is biting the temple tips of her sunglasses as she carefully inspects the dark haired man, currently using his sharp, spear fingers as barbecue skewers. She's batting her long eyelashes, entranced. She does like her men on the enigmatic side. In fact, she might just have a word with him. She folds the sunglasses and hangs them by the collar of her low-cut blouse. Of course, she doesn't forget her famous ambrosia salad as she departs from the rest of the fidgeting women. 

"Ed, darling. You must try out my signature dish!" she daintily holds up a spoon and attempts to feed the pale newcomer. 

He cautiously opens his mouth, unsure of how else to respond to the gesture. He tries to find Peg within the crowd, hoping she'll give him a new task away from this uncomfortably touchy person. And as luck would have it, his savior has come to the rescue. Peg doesn't hesitate to pull Edward away, cheerfully mumbling a domestic excuse. 

Once freed from the shackles of awkward social interactions, the man tiptoes his way out of the yard and down the street. He doesn't like the constant murmur of people talking. He doesn't understand the jokes, the loud laughs, the complicit slaps on the back. He feels as if he's on the other side of a glass window, separated from an audience demanding cooperation despite him only being able to discern muffled, discontinued meaning. 

None of this was mentioned in the Etiquette book. Or perhaps it has always been there, and the Inventor never got to the specific chapter. Died lamentably before he could explain how one navigates neighborhood BBQ parties.

Edward's step is clumsy and he doesn't have a particular direction in mind. In his scattered daze he nearly trips over something and turns around apologetically. You're sitting on the ground, resting against the fence. The book you were reading is now thrown aside, as you're too busy massaging the ankle that just got kicked by the sudden intruder. You look up, ready to scold the responsible airhead, but your eyes stop on an eccentric feature that catches your attention. 

"What happened to your hands?"

You're a little embarrassed by your unexpected, tactless curiosity. The man seems entirely unfazed, however.

"They weren't finished. I'm incomplete."

"Hmm. Isn't everyone?" 

Edward considers the question and recalls the people he's met so far. Peg and her husband. Joyce. The children. 

"But they don't look unfinished. They have all the body parts."

You chuckle slightly at the literal observation. 

"Well, you can't check them on the inside, can you? Most people have missing parts. Or broken ones."

"Where would you get it fixed, then?" Edward is startled by this new discovery. 

"You learn to fix it yourself. Otherwise it just stays like that, maybe forever."

He lifts his hands and stares at them. Is he going to be like this forever, too? He hasn't pondered the concept of time much before Peg had found him. Yet now, 'forever' feels unsettling. 

"Do your hands bother you that much?"

Edward doesn't know how to reply. He wishes he could resemble everyone else, that much is true. Then people wouldn't stare. And they wouldn't be afraid. As he mulls over the right words, he suddenly becomes aware of his surroundings. It's the house he noticed earlier, when he first arrived here. Which means...

He examines the person before him. They, too, look complete. So why?

"Why does everyone avoid this place?" He remembers the gathering he just left. "You weren't at the neighborhood party either. I thought all neighbors will show up."

"I was never invited."

"Why?"

You shrug.

"You're also not currently attending, are you? Otherwise you wouldn't be here."

"I took a break. It's too loud. Can I sit here?"

Before you can answer, he drops himself next to you with a thud. His fingers swish together as he adjusts his posture. 

"Oh, sorry, I forgot. What is your name? I'm Edward."

"Uhh... (Y/N)." You mutter, taken aback by his direct approach. What an odd fellow, you think to yourself.

"Nice to meet you, (Y/N)." As he scans your features again, he feels compelled to add, "You look rather pretty."

A faint blush takes over your face and you twirl your hair in an attempt to hide it. Is he mocking you? You genuinely can't read his intentions. 

"You don't look too bad yourself, Edward. I think the hands add to your charm." You eventually find the confidence to blurt it out, quickly following up with a laugh.

His heart tightens and he almost forgets about his hazardous extremities, having to stop himself from touching his now throbbing chest. He's never malfunctioned before. It doesn't feel like anything is wrong, either. Your comment, for some reason, made him very happy. 

(Y/N). Looking back to everything that happened, he's glad. Maybe he should thank Joyce next time he sees her. He wouldn't have met you otherwise. 

As the sun begins to set, you remind Edward that it's impolite to leave a party for too long. He protests, stating he prefers your company. As flattered as you are, you rephrase it as Peg being worried about his sudden disappearance and he feels bad enough to agree on his early retirement. On the condition he can hang out with you again. Once you guarantee a reunion, he makes his way back home. 

As he lays on Kim's bizarrely fluid mattress, tucked into the layered pastel sheets, Edward is overwhelmed by a strange, unfamiliar warmth. A wide, childish smile is plastered on his face and won't go away. Each time he closes his eyes to fall asleep, he pictures the encounter. (Y/N). It's a nice name, isn't it? He finds it particularly charming. He whispers it out loud in the dark room, as if making sure it's real. Reminding himself you're real. 

He can't properly explain it. It's the same thick window that stands between him and the world, but you're next to him. An outsider. A rejection. The idea that someone else out there shares his struggle has cleansed him of any longing for acceptance. Why bother with a sea of foreign, smudged faces? Peg becomes Joyce, and Joyce fades into Marge, and they all become a generic crowd of smiling pleasantries. It's a funny thing, being among humans. Once he left his old mansion behind, he realized how truly alone he had been. Still, being surrounded by people he could not comprehend made him feel even more lonely. That is the tragedy; sitting at the grand table, empty handed, unseen, unheard. Misunderstood. No one's fault, really. It just happens. But every now and then, if fate so allows, one might just find another starved attendant. With the same glint in their eyes, of someone not belonging. 

Oh, he can't wait to see you again.

It's unusually noisy outside for a late evening and you can't help but glance out the window. That's when you notice the roaring crowd, trampling in a hysterical march of unknown purpose. You have a bad feeling about it. The horned moon leers down at you like a bad omen and you quickly throw a jacket on, sprinting into the street. 

"What's this all about?" you shyly ask the nearest group. 

"Witch!" Esmeralda scowls at you with a pointing finger. 

Peg notices the commotion and runs towards you, completely disregarding the prophetic warnings of the woman. 

"Oh, (Y/N). It's Edward. They..." she sighs, frustrated. "I know I don't have the right to ask you this, but you're his friend. Could you please make sure he's alright?" Her voice is pleading and regretful. 

You nod without saying anything else. Before you turn to leave, you swiftly gesture to Esmeralda, raising your index fingers up and mimicking a devilish look. She gasps and throws her hands together in prayer.

It had to be done. 

Meanwhile, Edward has reached his old mansion and just now stopped in the entrance hall, panting anxiously. He feels nauseous and helpless. It's not that he's being chased by the enraged members of the neighborhood that alarms him. He cannot stand the possibility of not being in your presence ever again. How frightful, how agonizing! He claws at a nearby column in turmoil. 

It can't be, it won't happen. He'll tear his way through the masses if he has to. Oh, what a terrible thought. His Inventor would roll in the grave if he knew the violent ruminations that plague him right now. But if he has no other choice...Would he go as far as taking someone's life if it was for your sake? Well, technically speaking, his sake, really. He wants to see you. He needs to.

Panic slowly creeps through his body. The thoughts are piling up in an erratic hum and he can't find his focus again. He paces back and forth, attempting to recollect himself, but there's an urgency that drowns him in cold sweat. 

"Edward?"

The ringing stops. A switch has been flipped and he snaps his head in the direction of the voice. It's you. Completely spellbound, he extends his hand to touch your face, verifying whether you might be an illusion of his feverish desires instead. The blade pierces your skin, leaving a bright red trail behind. 

"I'm so sorry-" he cries out, realizing his act. 

You softly lower his hand with a reassuring smile. 

"It's just a small cut. Don't worry about it. I think we have more important matters at hand, won't you agree?" you joke as you nudge your head towards the window. 

"I spoke to the police officer on the way here, so we shouldn't have any surprise guests." 

You remove your jacket and throw it over some dusty furniture before climbing up the stairs. Halfway through you briefly stop and urge Edward to join you. He simply nods.

When the issue is settled and everything has been said and done, will you return to your miserable exile? Won't the neighbors become suspicious if you're frequently seen sneaking up the hill? Perhaps even the utmost secrecy won't prolong the visits much. 

And then what?

As he considers the potential scenarios, he becomes increasingly impatient. The joy of your return has been tainted by the impending doom of abandonment. He wishes you'd just stay with him here, forever. 

Once the conclusion has been reached, he lets out a quiet apology. Maybe to you, maybe to the beloved Inventor, maybe even to himself. He inserts a finger into the entrance lock and silently twists it. 

You must forgive him. Or at least try to understand him. He just loves you too much, (Y/N). Is it truly such a hideous crime? To want to keep you safe? If so, he will live with the guilt. But not without you. 

You're home. 

[bunnyhugs77]

Honey I'm Home

୨୧- Just a little slice of life of a hard working dad, his tired wife and their twin girls.

୨୧ WC: 900

Jungkook pushes open the door to your small two-bedroom flat, his keys jingling in the door which attracted the two little girls on the other side to come running instantly.

The soft patter of their socked feet hitting the wooden floors as they rushed to his as fast as they could. "Daddy!" The girls squealed. Jungkook crouched down, his once drained expression replaced with one full of delight.

"Girls!" He exclaims, taking the both of them in each of his arms, listening to their adorable laughter as he engulfed them into his tight embrace. "Daddy! Can't breathe!" Aria squeaks from where her head rested against his chest. Always the dramatic one of the two.

Jungkook laughs, apologizing and letting them go. Aria runs back to the kitchen where he could only assume the source of that flavourful scent was coming from. Meanwhile Hye-Ji stayed back to show him the flowers she'd picked just for him.

"Are these for me?" Bending at the waist to collect the crushed dandelions that were once in the grip of her fist. She nods with the brightest smile he's ever seen.

Picking her up as well, letting her rest on his side with one hand, careful not to ruffle the very elaborate princess dress she was wearing as he finally begins to make his way to the kitchen. "Thank you so much princess, I'll make sure to add this to my collection." He places a kiss to the crown of her head.

There you were. His eyes seemed to soften once they landed on you. In a button up and your favourite pair of mom jeans." Hi baby," He gets the chance to peck your lips briefly before Hye-Ji was asking to be put down.

She quickly ran off to her sister in the living room where there were colouring pages ripped out, building blocks all over the place, a box of crayons in the laundry bin full of clothes that were waiting to be folded.

"Hi." You manage a smile before resuming your blank stare into the pot of tomato sauce for the spaghetti that you'd been stirring for god knows how long. "Is everything okay?" Disregarding your mundane 'yeah' he know something is up.

"Honey, what's wrong? Talk to me." You sigh, dropping your shoulders, finally looking at him. He was in his typical work-wear for his day job as a private banker meanwhile he works part-time nights as a mail courier.

"Today was a bad day." Letting your head fall into your husband's firm chest in defeat. His hands raised to hold you in his arms the same way the have been for the last 5 years.

The shiny silver band of his wedding ring catching the light for a moment as he gently rubbed your back. "You wanna talk about it?"

You pout softly, "There's nothing to say, look at the state of the house. Hye-Ji turned the house upside down looking for her dress this morning. Then I took them to the grocery store and Aria got lost." Jungkook's eyebrows raise, but you weren't done.

"I finally got them to sleep for an hour while I did some laundry, and then I ended up falling asleep myself, waking up to crayons and toys everywhere, and Hye-Ji was crying because she missed you and then I started crying because I missed you too and-"

You couldn't believe this was making you tear up. The day was hectic and the fact you'd have to do it all over again tomorrow. Jungkook hushes you in a comforting manner, practically swaddling you in his arms. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here," you sniffle, stepping back.

"It's not your fault. You work two jobs. it's just hard sometimes." You admit and Jungkook gets an idea. "Go." He says and your brow arches, "I'll finish dinner, and take care of the girls. Go rest, or read that Jasper Wilde book you've been wanting to read. Please. Let me help, you deserve it." He pecks your forehead and you weren't going to fight him on it.

Leaving the kitchen and the responsibilities to him. Telling yourself that it would only be a thirty minute nap but it turned into 2 hours. By the time you walked back into the kitchen, it looked like you'd walked into a whole new house.

Everything was neat and tidy, the girls were sitting on the ground with a bowl of abandoned grapes shared between them as they watched Moana with an entranced gaze.

The laundry basket was gone, the floors were clean and the air smelled of soft fresh linens and cinnamon. Looking back to the kitchen where Jungkook quietly tidied up, humming softly to himself. You stood hidden from where you were admiring your little family.

You may not have had much but you had everything you needed right here. "You're amazing you know that?" Jungkook says as you approached him. "I should be saying that to you." You counter.

"No. I mean it, Y/n. Having two jobs is easy, but doing what you do everyday is a job for a saint. I appreciate everything you do for us, I love you so much." His lips pressing against your forehead while your heart felt so full of love. "I love you." You say.

"I have to potty!" Aria declares and the both of you look at each other.

"Not it."

"Not it."

[guardianreadersofthegalaxy]

Three: It's good to be in space once again!

Brigadier: We're not, we're in a space simulator... in St. Albans. It's not the same as being in space.

Three: Not with that attitude it's not.

Three: We're not a minute into the episode and you're already being a sourpuss...

[from 'Tim Key's Late Night Poetry Programme']

[toa-archive]

The making of a Trollhunters intro

Thanks for the responses on the recent poll. This was one of the affected posts that wouldn't allow video to be added in because ~tumblr~. Here's everything we have at the moment for the Trollhunters intro!

Since being posted originally, it was discovered that Hyunjoo Song had the netflix logo storyboard sequence on her twitter. Here's the screenshot of the tweet:

Unfortunately due to the upload having a flashing gif image putting a cut right here as it's on auto play. I've added a second bold marker below the gif so if you're potentially affected, scroll straight to that to avoid it.

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The above gif is the flashing image. If you scroll down to this point there will be nothing further to worry about.

After this Andy Erekson rough boarded the main bulk of the title sequence which is on his instagram. Still has the old orange logo even!

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Still need a good idea what sort of colours will be used and what sort of atmosphere you need though and that's where colour keys come in! This one is by Rustam Hasanov and it's quite horizontal so might pop out weird.

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We’re lucky enough to have two early development shots by Jonatan Catalan Navarrete thanks to his Artstation account as well! He worked on lighting/shading of visual development and while it is a bit eerie seeing bald Blinky, these are still gorgeous images.

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This is of course a mere fraction of the process but it’s always a joy to see and a reminder if there ever were one that it’s a team effort to make what we come to love. Netflix even put it on youtube so you can watch/compare whenever you feel like too.

Also since posting the Tales of Arcadia soundtrack came out and it included the full extended version by Alexandre Desplat. Due to other time commitments this was the only part he did for the franchise with Tim Davies taking over for the rest of Trollhunters.

Try and stop me now tumblr.

[moonsceptre]

Why so much foreshadowing between Charlie and Alastor?

It's important to explain the significance of visual cues in media. These cues serve as storytelling tools, subtly conveying emotions, themes, and foreshadowing key events that will eventually take place later in the story. For example, as discussed in this post, I talk about how Tim Burton frequently uses visual symbolism to enhance the romantic and psychological depth of his narratives. Foreshadowing through imagery is particularly crucial, as it allows artists to hint at future developments, creating a sense of deeper engagement with the story.

Here are a couple of examples of heart symbolism in shows like South Park and Fallout. These hints can serve as a hidden narrative, and usually shippers tend to notice these key visuals because they add an unspoken layer of meaning to the characters they're most interested in. To clarify, Cartman and Kyle [first image] are a very popular ship, often mistaken as a couple, and speculated to be in love by many fans. Having full hearts indirectly on display between the two works as a silent visual cue; a letter from the artist to the audience; yes, you are noticing the unspoken chemistry between them. While the Ghoul [second image] sews Lucy's finger onto his own hand, creating a heart shape from the threads, which hints to fans that their hostile relationship will eventually soften. Both connect the two through a simple shape, and yet it's such a powerful storytelling device.

Similarly, Vivziepop is no stranger to the use of visual imagery in order to convey romance between certain characters. Often, you will notice couples like Stolas & Blitzo and Moxxie & Millie rely on symbolic motifs, body language, and colour schemes to enhance their onscreen attraction. Brandon Rogers confirms this here. "Everything is drawn intentionally."

Apology Tour is a great source of these sorts. A giant broken heart to represent the pain Blitzo caused Verosika? An arrow through the heart to represent Blitzo and Stolas' heart-piercing emotional pain they're going through? Three pierced hearts to foreshadow a love triangle?

This type of imagery carries over into Hazbin Hotel, where several unexpected characters have been marked as potential subjects of romantic foreshadowing. Vox lights Valentino's cigarette with his power, forming a heart of electricity. Knowing the nature of StaticMoth's relationship, this one isn't too surprising, but a nice confirmation that they do have love for each other.

You might recall the recurring gag involving the hotel wall being repeatedly broken. In the pilot, Sir Pentious blasted a hole in the wall, and in the series, he did it again—this time joined by Cherri Bomb, who also left her mark. Notably, both of the holes they created were heart-shaped, subtly foreshadowing their eventual relationship.

I find it even more impactful when you notice these details in an animated show compared to live action. In live action, actors may not always have complete control over their facial expressions, and small framing mistakes can occur. While framing errors can happen in animation as well, every scene is intentionally drawn and carefully reviewed with the specific question in mind: "What does this convey?"

With that being said, is it intentional or coincidence these two characters have an abundance of interestingly framed scenes and romantic cues between them?

Not just the famous heart pillow scene, either. Albeit, this scene was riping with symbolism. What do snakes and apples symbolise other than Temptation? How convenient it takes place on Charlie's bed.

In the first image below, Vox warns of the dangers if Alastor strikes a deal with Charlie, and how the two are becoming closer. He says this while looking down at three images: two hearts connecting the photo of Charlie and the photo of Alastor. In the second image, Angel Dust's heart is almost perfectly aligned to Alastor's neck, with Charlie next to him in full view. This short frame occurs just as Sir Pentious says "sex before marriage".

Whether it's on the nose or indirect, there's always hearts somewhere between these two. I find 'unnecessary' hearts like the first image below are especially interesting. From no angle whatsoever do Alastor's tears in his coat look this way, at all. Nevertheless, it was drawn to look like a heart just as he leans over Charlie, to which she reacts shyly and places her hands between her legs. To double check, I traced both shapes in a separate layer.

This one is a little sneakier. When Charlie and Alastor first enter Rosie's place, the framing is deliberately set up so that the crook of Rosie's arm is directly opposite the pointed dip by the side of the door. Due to the semi-rounded shapes of the doorframe, this creates a heartshape. Which two of the main characters are placed within the heart? I traced the shape in a separate layer to outline the heart.

Reader, I implore you. Should you think I am pulling your leg, take a closer look at Sir Pentious and Cherri's heart explosions. They're subtle clues for those willing to look for them.

With that being said, I encourage you to investigate yourself. Maybe posts like this were not so coincidental after all.

"But Viv hates Charlastor!"

Whatever the outcome may be, I can guarantee you that no creator is under any obligation to reveal their characters' true intentions to you directly. If you truly love those characters, and if you truly love the work of the artist, then look for the clues she lays out for you within the final product. What you see on screen is what's canon.

[604to647]

Paperwork

2.8K / Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Summary: You keep Detective Tim Rockford company while he finishes up his paperwork.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please), established relationship, petnames (Shutterbug, baby), semi public sex, unprotected PiV, cockwarming but make it fluffy.

A/N: Another one-shot for The Rockford Portfolio series; as always, all the one-shots can be read as standalones. Is this another procrastination fic? 🤷🏻‍♀️(Sorree.)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics as always 😘

The background noise of Tim's police precinct can be simultaneously soothing and jarring. The hum of phones ringing, multiple simultaneous conversations, the clicking of keyboards keys, even papers rustling -  when played together it's almost melodic. All these moving parts of routine police work, each emitting their own hypnotic notes, harmonizing together in a lively tune.

Periodically, without warning, something loud and chaotic will cut through the symphonic cacophony and jolt everyone out of their complacency.

Sometimes it’s a perp objecting to being brought in, denying all charges and spitting accusations of injustice.  Other times, it’s the clatter of synchronized movements from multiple officers, roused by an order from command. Since you’ve been here, you’ve witnessed the first one twice and the second one once. And there was also that loud fight between two perps that had been calm when brought in separately, but upon seeing each other in the bullpen had reignited a years old feud with fists and teeth. It had taken seven officers to pull them apart (you had counted).

This time, the interruption comes from the very man whose office you’ve been waiting in for the better part of the last hour.  Tim comes storming into the bullpen, face hard set in a half grimace, half snarl.  He’s breathing heavily; broad shoulders straining against his leather holster straps, rising and falling with each laboured breath.  You knew that he was interrogating a suspect tonight, but when dinner time came and went without him coming home, you knew it was either going very well or very badly.  Making the assessment that he should at least have food waiting for him when he was done, you packed up his dinner and went to the precinct, settling into Tim’s office to wait with a good book.

“Fuck!” Tim angrily kicks a garbage can and it skids towards another officer’s desk before tipping over and spilling its contents.  Tim mutters as he crouches and picks up the mess he made.

His fellow detective who came in with him, tries to lay a reassuring hand on Tim’s shoulder which he shrugs off, “I know it’s not the information we wanted, but it’s still information.”

You know Tim still hasn’t seen you; heart breaking, you see the way your strong, gruff boyfriend’s face falls as he leans on the hands he’s placed atop the nearest desk, closing his eyes and sighing, “That’s not information I ever want to hear.”

“No one does, Rockford.  Why don’t you go take a breather.”

Tim nods, defeated, and you watch him stalk off to the locker room, shoulders hunched - scowl so fearsome several beat cops jump out of his way.

You hate it when the stress of Tim’s job gets to him; usually you only see the tail end of it when he come home, weary and beaten, ready to be comforted.  Tonight is the first time you’ve seen the frustration brimming fresh at its source.  Your poor Tim.

Without a second thought, you seek him out in the locker room.  Entering, you hear water running from one of the sinks and you round a bank of lockers to see Tim splashing water on his face.  Not wanting to startle him, you call his name softly and hold out a few paper towels for him to dry his face.

After a brief flash of surprise at your unexpected presence in the precinct (never mind the officers’ locker room), Tim’s countenance softens when he sees your pretty face laced with concern, “Shutterbug?  What are you doing here?”

You go to him immediately, arms thrown around those shoulders so strong and steady, and press gentle but passionate kisses over and over into his neck, by his ear, down his jaw, as you explain what brought you to him tonight.  Tim’s hands splay across you back to pull you flush against his chest before one arm encircles your waist, the other traveling up your spine and finding its home at the nape of your neck.  He breathes in your soft perfume and melts into your tender embrace.  It’s hard for Tim to believe you’re not a figment of his imagination sometimes.  Your sweetness at having thought enough about him to come tonight is nearly enough to wash away the farce of the last four hours in the interrogation room.

As it always does, your gentle touch and sweet melodic whisper of ‘Baby’ in his ear are enough to remind Tim that whatever gives him grief at work is but temporary, you’re forever.  Any unwanted agitation that had clawed its way into his being tonight simply walks out of his body as you hold him and rub his back – police work induced tension and strain no match for your loving touch and considerate nature. 

Pulling away only a little, as much as Tim’s strong hold will allow, you search his exhaustion laden eyes, “Are you done now? Can you come home?”

Tim sags his head into the crook of your neck and mumbles, “Paperwork.”

Determined to right what you can of tonight’s wrongs, you run your fingers through Tim’s hair, tracing a circular pattern that has his shoulders relaxing and a soft groan escaping his throat, “Let me keep you company, Detective Rockford.”

Tim lets you guide him back to his office, trying not let his decidedly improved mood appear too evident lest he wants a ribbing from his fellow officers.  He’s not sure he succeeds, but finds that he doesn’t care too much – let them make fun, he thinks, they should all be so lucky to their own personal sunlight.

After Tim settles in at his desk, you lay out his dinner and close the door - folding yourself onto the couch opposite him and opening your book.  Admittedly, without the hum of the bullpen, Tim’s staccato rhythmed typing causes you to look up from your reading quite often, and you can’t help but admire the way his handsome face furrows in a look of concentration.  Goodness, he’s handsome, you muse, especially when he’s deeply embroiled in his police work.

But you start to frown when you notice that in his focus, Tim has barely touched his dinner.  And that’s how you find yourself sliding into his lap and sitting on one of Tim’s solid thighs; one arm resting over his shoulder with your book held up behind his head so you can read, the other arm hovering over Tim’s desk - fork in hand, periodically spearing food to feed your boyfriend.  Tim never objects, just opens up obediently when you hold forkful after forkful up to his mouth.  He wonders what his colleagues would think if they walked in to find big, bad Detective Rockford with a pretty thing in his lap, spoon feeding him his meal.  Again, he smiles to himself, he can’t find it in himself to worry what they may think or what damage it might do to his rough and tumble reputation – he has the attention and care of the most perfect woman all to himself.  He really couldn’t ask for anything more.

After dinner is done, you make to get up and clear the empty containers, but Tim wordlessly commands you to stay put with a firm squeeze of your waist and so you stay, continuing to read over his shoulder as Tim plugs away at his reports.

Eventually, your upper thighs burn from your position and when you shift your weight a little, you brush your knee against Tim’s crotch and find him already semi-hard.  Giggling, you decide since you’re staying for a while, you might as well make yourself comfortable.  Swinging your legs over Tim’s so that you straddle him, you wrap yourself around Tim like a koala and carry on reading your book with your chin hooked over the detective’s steady shoulder.

Tim continues to type, filling out his administrative forms – willfully ignoring the way your entire body shifts lightly every time you turn a page and ever so imperceptibly brushes your core over his growing bulge.  Except it’s not quite as imperceptible as it should be and soon Tim is rock hard from your movements.  That is very much perceptible to you.

“How’s the paperwork coming, Detective?” you tease.

“It’s coming,” Tim grits, “How’s the book going?”

“It’s going,” you grin.  In truth, you want him to finish his work sooner rather than later so you can go home; you’re starting to get tired.

“Tim, do you think I could take a little nap?” you ask, voice small.

Immediately, Tim’s attention turns to you, “Of course, baby.  You know, you don’t have to stay.  It’s already late and I don’t know when I’ll be done.”

“It’s okay, I want to stay and keep you company,” you sigh as you do a big stretch, arching your back so that you lift your chest towards Tim’s face, causing him to groan when presented with your luscious breasts so close to his mouth.  Continuing to stretch out your tired limbs, you place your closed book on Tim’s desk and move like you’re about to climb off his lap, making sure to grind down on his hard cock before shimmying back towards Tim’s knees.

Then, to Tim’s surprise, instead of standing, you hold his eye with a mischievous glint in yours and undo his belt buckle and the front of his pants, “Shutterbug, what are you doing?”

Taking out Tim’s impressive length, you swirl the already seeping precum around the swollen head with your thumb before giving him a few ginger strokes with your delicate hands.  Tim closes his eyes and hums, thinking that your actions are meant to answer his question.

They’re not.

Never breaking eye contact, you climb back up Tim’s thighs and hover over his cock; reaching beneath your skirt to pull aside the gusset of your panties, you line him up with your entrance and silently sink down slowly on Tim’s dick.  All this you do without so much as looking down, so familiar with every inch of this man’s body and how it fits with yours.  Your pussy flutters as she stretches to accommodate him, thankfully already wet due to Tim’s mere presence for the last hour or so.  Much of it was from being pressed up against his hard muscles and breathing in his manly musk, but what never fails to turn you on is watching your brilliant detective boyfriend diligently and competently completing his work, executing his tasks with precision and care.  You take your time, partially because you’re relishing in this look of wonder on Tim’s face, but also, your tight walls burn slightly from accommodating him without much notice – though you’ve taken Tim’s cock more times than you can count, his size always manages to overwhelm you.

When you’re finally seated, you rewrap yourself around the detective, positioning yourself the way you were before but this time with his hard cock in your slick cunt, “I’m providing you with some motivation while I nap, Detective Rockford.” 

You kiss him slow and passionate but closed lipped, not wanting to rile him up too much, “Wake me when you’re done, Detective.”

Tim chuckles as you rest you head against his shoulder, and with the feel of your breath soft against his neck, he goes back to his paperwork.

You do manage to slip in and out of consciousness; never fully sleeping but lightly dozing. You can’t help it - you’re just so full and sated with Tim inside you. Here you feel so warm, small, and safe - so satisfied just being filled by this man whose goodness and devotion you can feel radiating under your skin. His dedication to his work and his oath to protect makes you cling to him even more, wanting to give yourself to him for his service.

Every so often, even through his consistent typing, Tim will twitch inside you, unleashing a fresh wave of arousal that drowns his cock.  Occasionally, you will shift a little as you snooze, causing his length to jump and your needy cunt will instinctively clench.  You moan softly in your semi-conscious state, wanting more but knowing at the same time that what you have is more than enough. You’re stretched and content, the solid wall of muscle that props you up and cradles you so delicately is filling you with so much awe and love that the coil beneath your belly starts to slowly tighten all on its own.

Very gradually, progress immeasurable, it bands around itself, twisting and spooling so insistently that you can no longer slip back in to sleep mode.  Softly you call to him, “Tim?”

“Mmhhmmm?”

“I’m going to come. May I come, baby?”

Tim smiles at you indulgently when he looks down to see your soft, pleading look, “As if I could ever deny you anything, Shutterbug. Go ahead now.”

He presses his lips to yours to muffle your mewling cry as you come at his permission; a low rumble of an orgasm that radiates to your fingertips and recoils back through your veins to its source in your core - over and over, wave after wave.  Mouth never leaving yours, Detective Tim Rockford greedily consumes your involuntary whimpers and swallows every moan that escapes your throat.  He strokes the back of your neck as you come down, entire body now limp and weak - pulling you closer still, Tim resumes his work.

Tim’s never enjoyed doing paperwork more.  And although there is a part of him, big and hard, that finds this arrangement to be untenable, there is another part of him that loves the closeness of holding you like this, tucked against him, safe; nothing outside of his office doors can touch you, cocooned here with the most mundane part of his unpredictable job.

And so, he happily types away, completing his reports and admin obligations at record breaking speed – you’re right, the warmth of you and the trickling mess where the two of you are connected make a great motivator. 

When he presses his final ‘Submit’ on his computer, Tim presses a soft kiss to your ear and you hum in contentment, “I’m done, Shutterbug.”

He feels your smile against his neck, “Good work, Detective.”

“Can I fuck you now, baby?”

Your smile widens against his skin and you nod.

Tim would have thought that having been buried deep in your cunt for the last hour, he would be bursting to fuck up into you, hard and fast – a release after this long stretch of stasis and even longer day of work.  But instead, he discovers that he only wants to extend this intimacy.  He rocks slowly against your wet pussy, hearing the squelch of your release as he moves.  You pull away from Tim’s neck to face him, rewarding him for a job well done with your soft smile and eyes filled with adoration; the sight nearly skyrockets Tim to the moon. 

His hands on your waist guide you where he needs you and you match his intention and pace; your small, downward bounces rhythmically meet every one of Tim’s thrusts with a well deserved pussy clench - slap, slap, slap.  Tim’s low growls vibrate his entire chest, and you feel it where your hands are splayed, absorbing them through your fingertips and muting them – these are your sounds, you assert possessively, no one can have them but you.

Though the pace doesn’t change, the intensity of your lovemaking does – every new drive into your cunt a little deeper, a little more hungry.  Tim’s mouth captures yours in a heady, passionate kiss – all tongue and suction; whining when Tim’s teeth bite down lovingly on your swollen bottom lip, you feel that burning heat that’s been simmering since you last came rise to a sudden boil.

“Tim, I’m going to come again,” you purr, your words and dreamy tone sending Tim right to the edge.

“Come with me, Shutterbug.”

Mouths clashing together a final time, you each drink from other as you fall over the cliff together: you, Tim’s deep basstone groans. Tim, your soprano aria of ecstasy. 

“I love you, baby,” he murmurs against your lips as his breathing starts to even.

“I love you more, Detective,” you grin as you push back Tim’s soft curls from his forehead with your still tingling fingers.

Packing up to head home, you giggle when you see the wet spot on the front of Tim’s pants, evidence of the pleasure you gave each other.  Pointing out that the two of you still have to cross the bullpen, you tease, “What you are going to say we were doing if someone notices?”

Again, Tim realizes he doesn’t much care if his colleagues are privy to just how in deep he is for you; pulling you close by the waist and fitting you against his side as you walk out of his office, he chuckles into your hair and answers honestly, “Paperwork.”

[alittlebitofloveliness]

In defence of Steve Randle

Listen guys, Steve Randle gets a lot of hate in this fandom and as much as it pains me, it's valid. Everyone has their own interpretation of the source material, and fandom is supposed to be fun, so it is absolutely valid and ok to hate or love any character you want. You can hate Steve for many reasons or for no reason at all! This is fandom! That's ok! The story is for you interpret and love and play with and hate on to your hearts content. HOWEVER, to say that Steve Randle isn't an important character to the novel is simply not true, and to say that he hates Ponyboy requires ignoring or downplaying some pretty key moments of the book. This is especially true for those of you who love Dally but hate Steve, because Steve gets a lot of hate for being kind of a dickhead (which lbr, a lot of seventeen years old are, especially to their friend's little siblings) while Dally gets less for doing a lot worse (harassing Cherry, jumping kids, etc). This isn't to say that either character is better- they're both great, nuanced characters who have done bad things, but the fandoms attitudes towards them when they share a lot of characteristics is really telling. Even Ponyboy's narration about them is pretty similar- Pony doesn't particularly like Steve, and he was canonically scared of Dally, but they're both members of his gang and he doesn't hate either of them. You don't have to like Steve as a character, just like you don't have to like Dally or Darry or Tim Shepard or even Ponyboy, but he is important- and he doesn't hate Ponyboy, nor does Ponyboy hate him.

A really important moment in the book is when Ponyboy and Johnny defend Dally after he harasses Cherry and Marcia.

"Dally's okay," Johnny said defensively, and I nodded. You take up for your buddies, no matter what they do. When you're a gang, you stick up for the members. If you don't stickup for them, stick together, make like brothers, it isn't a gang any more. It's a pack. A snarling, distrustful, bickering pack like the Socs in their social clubs or the street gangs in New York or the wolves in the timber."

This line here is super important. Pony and Johnny were willing to defend Dally after he sexually harrassed Cherry and Marcia- soc girls who they clearly liked and were intimidated by- in the name of being a good friend, because that is what's important to them and their gang. If they're willing to do it in this context for Dally, you'd best believe they'd do the same for Steve, and him for them. Steve can and will rag on Ponyboy within the gang, but he'd never dream of bad mouthing him to anyone else. Dependability is important to the gang, and Steve would never publicly shit talk Pony, and vice verca. Regardless of their squabbles within the gang, at the end of the day they've got each others backs. They're buddies. We see evidence of this at the end of the book, when Pony grabs the bottle and threatens the socs with it.

"You really would have used that bottle, wouldn't you?" Two-Bit had been watching from the storedoorway. "Steve and me were backing you, but I guess we didn't need to. You'd have really cut them up, huh?"

The important thing here is that along with Two-bit, Steve was backing Ponyboy, no questions asked. Sure most of it boils down to Pony being a member of the gang and that deep rooted loyalty to one another, but the context for this scene is that Ponyboy was sitting on Steve's car waiting for Steve and Two to stop flirting with some girls. The three of them were hanging out- without Darry, without Sodapop. It's their school lunch break. We know Ponyboy has middle class friend's at school, or that he could've spent time in the school library. It was a deliberate choice to hang out with Two and Steve. He wasn't forced into it. Canonically, Steve and Ponyboy hang out. Never alone, but they're decent enough friends to hang out together in a group. Doesn't everyone have friends like that? I do. This isn't the only textual instance either where they hang out without the entire gang being present. Early on, Pony offhandedly mentions that sometimes Steve and Soda will buy him pop and teach him about cars if he hangs around the DX.

"I had walked down to the DX station to get a bottle of pop and to see Steve and Soda, because they'll always buy me a couple of bottles and let me help work on the cars."

He could've just said Soda's name here but he didn't. Steve buys Pony pepsi and teaches him about cars, even though he gets annoyed with him when Soda invites him to hang around with them too often. And honestly, who wouldn't? I'd be annoyed if my best friend always invited her little brother along with us, even if I liked the kid. Wouldn't you?

Now, we do need to address the elephant in the room. I'm talking of course, about this quote;

"I'd never tell Soda, because he really likes Steve a lot, but sometimes I can't stand Steve Randle. I mean it. Sometimes I hate him."

I feel like very often people forget the context this quote comes from, and so it's magnitude is blown way out of proportion. Ponyboy has just been jumped and then immediately scolded by his brother who constantly makes him feel foolish and unwanted. He's already scared, embarassed, and defensive and then Steve goes and makes him feel even more unwanted. Of course he wants to lash out. Of COURSE he feels like he hates Steve in that moment. I did even reading it. But Ponyboy doesn't truly hate Steve. This moment is PEAK fourteen year old having a rough night energy, it's not truly representative of Steve as a character or of Ponyboy's feelings towards him. In truth, Steve actually kind of likes Ponyboy and is at very least protective over him. This is evidence by the previous quotes, but also when Ponyboy comes back from Windrixville, and is worried about the state placing him in foster care;

"'No, [Ponyboy said] 'they ain't goin' to put us in a boys' home.' 'Don't worry about it,' Steve said, cocksure that he and Sodapop could handle anything that came up. 'They don't do things like that to heroes.'"

It's subtle, and not immediately obvious to the traumatized fourteen year old who is used to Steve's cocky nature, but this is both a reassurance and a very bold claim. Not only is Steve trying to look out for Ponyboy the way the rest of the gang models- by treating him like a kid, letting the 'adults' worry about grown up issues in a misguided attempt to protect Pony- he is also throwing in his lot to make sure nothing does happen. Based on this quote and the rest of Steve's characterization throughout the book its not hard to infer that Steve would fight tooth and nail to make sure Ponyboy stays safe with his family. Sure, part of it is gang loyalty, part of it is his devotion to soda, but part of it is because he and Ponyboy are buddies in their own right, no matter how much they fight. They are friends- and Steve is an incredibly important character for many reasons, but particularly to add depth to Pony's character, to the bond between the Curtis gang, and to highlight how the Curtis gang differs from the other gangs in Tulsa. Steve is just as much an outsider as the rest of the gang, and it's disingenuous to say otherwise no matter how much you may hate him as a character.

[magic-crazy-as-this]

I'd just like us all to appreciate how Jason needed to emphasise this with a DRAMATIC key press just to capitalise the IMPORTANCE of this information

(thanks to @spoilerjpeg for sourcing)

EDIT: I've been informed that I've messed this one up and that's actually Tim who might be even more of a diva. Enjoy the added tags.

(thanks to @kindlingkeen for pointing out my silly mistakes)