#why is roy so silly in this you may ask

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Roy wakes, fully hard and – two seconds later, when the details of the dream return to him – fully panicked.

Fuck.

---

It’s not like he’s never had sex dreams before. Come on. But none of them had featured men (except that weird one about Lee Pace in a banana costume and that hadn’t left him so much turned on as thoroughly confused) and abso-fucking-lutely not a single one of them had starred Jamie Tartt.

Jamie Tartt, who is now standing right in front of him in the dressing room, saying something about football something something, right Coach, something free kicks, and all Roy can think about is how he now has a very vivid idea of what those lips would look like when wrapped around his cock.

Jamie pushes a strand of hair of out of his eyes. They look grey now; in Roy’s dream they were green-tinting-towards-brown and heavy-lidded with lust as Roy had pushed him back on the bed— 

Roy can’t stand it. Except one very specific part of him apparently can and no, no, fuck no, he’s not doing this. Without a word he turns on his heel and walks away, ignoring Jamie’s surprised objection.

Fuck.

---

Training is a nightmare.

The only way Roy can get through it at all is by not sparing Jamie a single glance. (Jamie running, dribbling, shooting; Jamie turning and twisting, as graceful as water; Jamie with hair damp with sweat and calling out to the others with that eager voice that had called out Roy’s name last night.) It’s really fucking difficult, though, because he’s used to always keeping at least half an eye on Jamie these days, no matter what else is going on. Besides, the prick’s everywhere, rushing around the pitch like the fucking Duracell Bunny on speed. Roy clearly made a huge mistake ever pushing him towards the heights of endurance because the little shit just. won’t. stop. 

Roy’s attempts at avoidance don’t go unnoticed, either. He can feel the eyes of Beard and Nate on him; can see the way the other players look from him to Jamie and mutter among themselves. 

He makes them run suicides until they collapse just to shut them up and when Jamie is the only one still on his feet Roy tells Beard that oh fuck, he has a really important meeting he needs to go to right now, he fucking forgot about it and now he’s running late, could Beard and Nate finish this up please, and of course Roy doesn’t flee from the pitch because Roy Kent doesn’t fucking flee from anything. He walks off rather hurriedly, sure, but that’s just to properly sell the lie of the meeting he’s in a rush to. 

“Yeah, something is definitively up with him and Jamie,” he hears Beard mutter to Nate as he walks off.

Fuck.

---

He withdraws to the supply cupboard where he’s not likely to be disturbed, or found. He’s not hiding, obviously; he just needs a few moments to himself, to gather his wits. He’d drive home, except he actually does have a meeting with Rebecca in a couple of hours, and she is the one person he daren’t piss off. Not because she’s terrifying – although she can be, a fact that Roy respects immensely – but because she’ll know that something is off if he doesn’t show and unlike everyone else she has both the guts and the capacity to force it out of him.

In a farcical turn of events, which he entirely blames on Dr. Sharon (and maybe also on Keeley and Jamie a little, for their absurd and sometimes infectious tendency towards emotional honesty), Roy thinks that maybe he wouldn’t mind talking to someone about this. Maybe it would… help? Give him some perspective on things? 

Problems is, there’s no one he can talk to, is there? Jamie is right out, for obvious reasons, and while this would probably be right up the Diamond Dogs’ alley, there’s no fucking way Roy is telling his fellow coaches and the club’s director of football operations about having a wet dream about the team’s star player. Apart from the utter mortification of it, it’s hardly fair on Jamie, having almost all his bosses discuss him like that. Even if it’s not the real Jamie they’d be discussing, really, just the very bendable and delightfully masochistic Jamie that’s taken shameless residence in Roy’s battered mind. 

He can’t talk to Rebecca, for the same reason, even though he’s pretty sure she’d be able to say something clever enough and cutting enough that he’d snap right out of whatever the hell this is. Maybe she’d declare him clinically insane and unfit for duty and have him carted off to an asylum or some shit, and as much as that would suck it’d be a bit of a relief, honestly. At least he wouldn’t near twist his neck off his shoulders trying to avoid looking at Jamie. 

Jamie would probably come and visit him, the fucking arsehole.

And Roy can’t talk to Keeley, either, because even though she’s probably the best person to bring this to and the person he’d most like to talk to, she’s been clear about having no interest in sorting Roy and Jamie’s shit out for them. Besides, he doesn’t want to somehow give her the idea that he’s over her. He’s not. He had a pretty wild dream about her just the other week, and—

For a brief moment, he’s assailed by the image of Keeley and Jamie tangled on Roy’s mattress, looking up at him with twin smiles and—

In spite of the cupboard being rather chilly, Roy starts to sweat. Desperately, he crosses his legs and forces his mind back to the time when he took a chug of orange juice only for it to be egg yolk and he nearly threw up. 

It doesn’t really help. He’s still turned on, only now he’s feeling sick too. 

He could talk to Dr. Sharon, he guesses, but Dr. Sharon is travelling southern France for the rest of the week.

Roy won’t last that long.

Fuck. 

--- 

The door to the cupboard is pulled open with enough force to almost startle Roy off of the bucket he’s sat on. 

“All right, what the fuck’s going on, man?” Jamie demands, without even having the decency to look surprised at finding Roy hiding hanging out among the mops and micro fibre cloths. “Did you hit your head and forget the last two years or something?”

“Of course not,” Roy mutters, determinedly not looking up from the computer precariously balanced on his lap.

“Then why the fuck are you ignoring me? The lads all think I did something really bad!” There’s a plaintive note in Jamie’s voice, reminding Roy of the noises dream-Jamie had made when Roy— 

Roy closes his eyes. He can’t go on like this. He’s pretty sure that if he could just get a day or two – three or four tops, absolutely no more than five – away from Jamie, away from these constant reminders, the details of the dream would fade away, and his desire with it – but they have a game the day after tomorrow, so that’s not going to happen, and he can’t keep avoiding Jamie until then. It’d be bad for the team – not to mention that he can’t really stomach the hurt he hears in Jamie’s voice.

Nothing for it, then. Fuck it all to hell.

“I had a sex dream,” he grits out, carefully looking to the doorframe right next to Jamie’s face, so that he can catch Jamie’s reactions without having to look him in the eye.

Jamie doesn’t react much, just cocks his head to the side. “You had a sex dream about me?”

“Did I say it was about you, you muppet?!” Conceited prick.

“Uh, no, but it was? You wouldn’t be all weird about it if wasn’t.” Trust Jamie to always choose the worst moments to be insightful and reasonable. He’s doing it just to be contrary, Roy’s sure of it. 

Jamie’s watching him expectantly, as if believing Roy will elaborate or explain further. Roy doesn’t say a word. Roy is busy stonily inspecting a small speck of dirt on the wall next to Jamie’s face.

Eventually, Jamie lets out a long sigh and rolls his eyes. “Fine. What’s the big deal then?” 

Now Roy’s eyes snap to Jamie’s face, because what the hell? “What do you mean, what’s the big deal? You don’t think it’s a little weird and really fucking uncomfortable that I, Roy Kent, had a sex dream about you, Jamie Tartt? I’m your fucking coach! We’re friends!”

Jamie makes a face, like Roy’s being the insane one. “Roy, mate, you’ve seen the wall in my old bedroom. Bunch of half-naked girls and you, right? You never did the math on that?” 

Roy has, in fact, never done the math on that. Hasn’t realize there as math to do. “You were impressed by my prowess as a football player,” he tries feebly.

Jamie rolls his eyes. “Um, yeah. Which is hot.”

“… oh.”

Roy doesn’t know what else to say to that. Doesn’t know how to feel about that. Hasn’t the faintest idea about how to even begin to process it.

Jamie is watching him with a small frown. He looks concerned, pitying almost, which makes Roy want to go throw himself in the Thames more than anything else in this discussion has.

“So,” Jamie says eventually, speaking slowly, like he’s trying very hard to find the right words, “all these years and you never once figured that this whole thing we’ve got going, all this fucking tension, that it was… you know… just a little bit sexual?”

“No.”

“What, never?”

“No.” 

“That’s fucking mental, man.” Jamie looks like he doesn’t know whether to be incredulous or impressed. Then his eyes widen. “Ooh, is this because men getting with other men was illegal when you were a kid back in the dark ages? They burned people alive and shit, so you’re, like, repressed and stuff?”

Roy is about to bite his head off for pulling out fucking stupid ha ha you’re so old jokes now, except there’s something in Jamie’s eyes giving him the distinct impression that maybe Jamie is deliberatedly being a prick, doing it for Roy’s sake, trying to offer him a sense of normalcy or something, and that’s actually quite sweet, isn’t it? Only that thought has Roy’s heart doing something weird and stupid, so actually no, back to Jamie just being a prick.

“We’re in love with Keeley,” he says, and he means for it to be gruff, but it comes out pleading more than anything else.

“Yeah, I know.” Jamie sounds exasperated. “None of this means we ain’t. Fucking hell, mate, tension’s just tension, yeah, no need to fucking act on it if you don’t want to. And dreams are just dreams. I’m mad fit, you see me running around doing impressive shit all day, course you’re gonna dream about me, be weirder if you didn’t. Bet half the team do the same, anyway. It doesn’t have to mean anything.” Jamie crosses his arms, and looks as serious and decisive as Jamie ever does. “Listen, Coach, we’re playing West Ham this Saturday, and you need to stop being weird about this and start coaching me and not freak everyone out.”

Roy doesn’t ask him what Jamie think he’s been trying to do all day. Not his fault Jamie’s been right there, all pretty eyes and strong thighs and distracting lips and shit. But he doesn’t say that; instead, he sighs, because Jamie, infuriatingly, has a point. “Yeah. Okay. But… just give me a fucking minute. Go get changed and I’ll be there in fifteen, all professional and shit.”

“Great. See you then, Coach.”

Jamie turns and as he walks away Roy can’t help his gaze sliding down to Jamie’s arse, noticing the way the blue shorts cling to the round buttocks, leaving little enough to the imagination, only Roy is imagining what they’d look like sans shorts and red from Roy’s fingers and palm, wondering if the reality would match the dream.

Fuck. 

---

Dreams are just dreams. Roy tells Dr. Sharon as much during their next appointment, because even though talking to Jamie helped him pull himself together just enough to muddle through the rest of the week with his sanity mostly intact, he’s still feeling rather rattled by the whole mess. Untethered. 

Jamie’s been brilliant, carrying on as if nothing’s changed between them. Somehow, that hasn’t helped as much as Roy would’ve thought it would. 

Dr. Sharon listens carefully and without judgement, as she always does. “You’ve had dreams before,” she notes once Roy’s fallen silent. “I’m sure some of them have been strange or unsettling. Has any of them ever affected you like this?” 

“No. Like I said, it’s just dreams, right? It’s not real. Shouldn’t affect me. Never fucking does, not even the sexy ones, usually.”

“Right. So why do you think this one was different?”

Roy stares at her. She returns his stare calmly, patiently. Waits, watching him, until he can’t help but catch the shape of it reflected back at him in her kind eyes.

Fuck. 

---

“What if I don’t want it to be just a dream?” 

“Eh?” 

Jamie’s peering at him through the open door, looking like he’s wondering what Roy is doing showing up unannounced and spouting nonsense on his doorstep at half past three on a rest day. 

Which, okay, fair enough. 

“What if I don’t want it to be just a dream?” Roy repeats, a little slower this time. 

For another moment, Jamie just stares at him. Then his eyes widen, lightening up with delight. “Oh! You mean… ?” He gestures between them.

“Yeah,” Roy says and then he’s being pulled into the hallway by his jacket and he has time to think that that they really need to figure out how Keeley fits into all of this and then he has his arms around a body that is firm and solid and there and Jamie Tartt is kissing him and it’s not a dream at all. 

Fuck. Oh, fuck… !

[feyburner]

This is part of a longer thing I may post on ao3 at some point but here’s some silly little Jaytim texting AU. I use this format as a writing warmup.

EDIT: This has been posted on AO3.

[Unknown] »

Hey. This is Jason. 

I have a favor to ask. You can say no.

« tim

uh

1. i’m aware of how favors work  

2. what is it?

« tim

?

« tim

hey are you like. good

J »

Yeah fine 

Sry. Rethinking this maybe

« tim

what, do you need a kidney or something?

i can’t give you a kidney.

i don’t have any organs to spare.

J »

What ? 

« tim

what’s the favor?

J »

I wouldn’t ask if it wasnt important

I’d ask Roy but hes in star city 

or Kori but shes off world

I tried dickhead but hes in haven. Cant get away tonight

« tim

yeah jason i get it lol

J »

So Im currently in the cargo hold of a private yacht

« tim

what >?

J »

We’re caught in the storm thats hitting the city its a whole thing. 

« tim

are you in the cargo hold of your own volition or did someone put you there

J »

So I dont think I can get back t

No its on purpose

« tim

hang on. you’re in gotham bay right now? in a boat?  

jason this storm is really bad.

it’s already sunk a houseboat and a fishing boat at the marina

J »

I dont think I can get back totown toni

Christ you type fast 

Shut up for a sec. Clam down

Clam*

*Calm fuck me

Thought I was gnna be back tonight but bc of storm its not looking great.

Can you feed my sourdough starter 

« tim

what

J »

4511 overhill apt 6D 

Key under the neighbors mat. 6H

« tim

hey to clarify. “its not looking great” ← what does that mean

J »

Starter is on counter. in glass jar 

Should just need one feeindg. Maybe 2. depending 

« tim

on???

J »

On wwhen I get back?

« tim

so you do plan on coming back

J »

Yeah timothy I’m in a boat not the heart of Mount Doom

« tim

yeah? vaders not there? so that means everything’s fine? 

J »

Did you

jst say Vader

As in Darth

« tim

??? 

J »

Oh my god

« tim

jason are you in peril or what.

J »

No im not in “peril” lol.

Did you see the thing I said about my sourddough starter

It needs to be fed

« tim

wtf is a sourdough starter

nvm i googled it

J »

Its a live bacteria colony you use to m 

Oh ok

Yeah so it just needs 50g lukewarm water + 50g flour

Theres a scale next to the jar

Stir until it looks like hummus

Put lid back on

The end

« tim

the internet says if you put it in the fridge it doesn’t need daily feedings

J »

Sure. But that would mess up my bread schedule

« tim

your bread schedule 

J »

Man are gyou gonna fuckin feed Breadie Mercury or should I find someone else

« tim

im already en route. 

J »

Oh

Ok

Thank you.

Wtf dont text and motorbike  

« tim

how about you dont text and Sinking Boat

J »

Hey its not like I’m gonna cause a boat crash

« tim

i was stopped at a red light 😐

anwyay i’m at your place.

1. why do you not have a security system. when you said key under the neighbor’s mat i thought you were joking. 

2. how warm is lukewarm

J »

1. I’m the security system

« tim

just rolled my eyes so hard it actually physically hurt

J »

God youre annoying

2. ? Its lukewarm

« tim

ohhhhh thanks! that’s so helpful :) here i am trying not to murder your incredibly important bacteria colony that i just drove across town for but no thats great jason very descriptive thanks :) 

J »

Like warm but not too wram, nothing you’d want to take a bath in

Can you fucking

I TYPE SLOW.

« tim

ok.

[Image Attached]

he is fed

J »

Thanks man.

Sincerely.

« tim

so hows the cargo hold going

still intact i assume? 

J »

Mostly ya

« tim

pardon? 

J »

Slight leakage. Nothing major

« tim

oh? are you a boatologist now? 

i dont think you’re qualified to judge that?

J »

Moving right past “boatologist” out of the goodness of my heart.

Chill lol. If it was rly bad thered probably be some sort of alar

Hm.

« tim

did an alarm just start going off

J »

Dont worry about it

« tim

im not. 

did it though

also which yacht? im in the marinas scheduling dtabase

blue miracle, serendipity, carp-e diem? which one

« tim

jason?

« tim

if this is a joke it’s not funny

oh cool you’re not on comms either. great.

hey if youre dead again and i just fed your stupid starter for nothing im gonna be soooo mad just fyi

« tim

ugh.

*

J »

Hey

Thanks again for the

I’m not gonna say “save” bc I was doinf just fine on my own.

But thanks for the backup.

Lmk when youre home

Nope sorry lol you dont have to do that.

Night.

« tim

home

J »

Also I just saw your messaages from

Ah. 👍

From earlier. 

« tim

you mean from when you said “huh, this boat seems to be filling with water” and then disappeared? those messages? 

J »

Those were not my exact words.

« tim

right. your exact words contained somehow even less information 

J »

Shut up

I just wanted to 

You know. Youre the only one who jokes about it

The only one in the family I mean

your family, I mean

The bats.

« tim

? 

the only one who jokes about what

J »

Me being dead

« tim

oh. 

ok. well

its not like. actually funny to me. i was just annoyed. sorry i guess

J »

No thats not 

Tim. Shut up.

I dont mind. I like that one of you does. 

Its better than people talking around it. Like its this big shameful thing I did.

One of many

If I mention it in front of dickhead he does the face

the :~{ face

« tim

wow its uncanny

uh. for the record. 

i don’t think that’s the reason people talk around it

if im correct in thinking that by “people” you mean “one specific person whose name rhymes with Rat Can” 

 

J »

Yeah well

I just

Christ never mind. Im sorry. You are not the person to be sayign this to.

Im gonna shut the fuck up I think. 

Goodnight.

« tim

oh what, you can’t talk to me about being dead bc of that one time you tried to kill me? 

and failed btw :/ 

J »

Tim

Not to be so unchill

But you know how me being dead isnt actaully funny to you

« tim

…got it. sorry

J »

No. don’t apologize to me

Ever

I’m serious 

« tim

like for anything? 

what if i killed breadie mercury 

J »

You didnt. He is thriving

« tim

he is?

wait. really?

you can tell?

J »

[Image Attached]

Hes doubled in size since you fed him.

« tim

whoa

J »

Yup. Thanks again for thattoo.

*that too

Its stupid but hes kinda my son.

« tim

wouldn’t he technically be like, 10 billion sons

J »

He is my 10 billion sons.

« tim

lolol

wow. why am i so pleased hes thriving lol 

J »

Right

« tim

jeez

i was so worried about the water temp

google said lukewarm is 98-105 so i did 98 to be safe

J »

You used a thermometer? 

« tim

your instructions were vague!

i didnt want to kill your bacteria colony!

J »

Thanks Tim.

« tim

? you already said that lol

i gotta pass out btw

glad you didnt die: the sequel in a yacht

that would have been so cringe

night jason

J »

Night

*

J »

You up?

« tim

obviously

why

J »

Could use your eyes on something.

[Image Attached]

« tim

morse code but the dots and dashes are reversed and its spelling backwards in russian, ASTITP AYALEB AVD RTSIRP → PRISTR DVA BELAYA PTITSA → PIER TWO WHITE BIRD

J »

Bc it looks like morse but its not, its kind of scrambl 

Ok jesus christ . 

30 seconds? Seriously? Fuck me

Can I hire you? Jesus lol

« tim

that depends. do you pay more than batman?

J »

The fuck? Does he pay you guys now?

« tim

no.

J »

Then yes. I do pay more than batman.

« tim

how much more

J »

One coffee per codebreak? 

« tim

:\

J »

Two coffees per codebreak

Two and a loaf of sourdough

« tim

sourdough from breadie mercury?

J »

Ya

« tim

done

J »

Damn. I feel like you should have higher standards

« tim

i mean i was already gonna do it for free

now i have successfully negotiated coffee & sustenance 

im on a roll. nothing but Ws 

J »

Ws?

« tim

its young people slang you wouldn’t get it ❤️

J »

I am barely 3 years older htan you.

It could be argued, considering certain events, that we’re basically the same age.

« tim

and yet you text like an old, old man

J »

I do not

Would you rather I texted like “idk brb lmao roflcopter”

« tim

ROFLCOPTER?

oh my god. ohhhhhh jason. oh my god

that is absolutely not what the kids are saying these days. oh my god

J »

Ok you know what. At least I know Mount Doom isnt a Star Wars thing

« tim

? 

oh, is it star trek? 

J »

I’m 99% sure youre antagonizing me on purpose

But have you seriously not read or watched Lord of the Rings

« tim

no i have not.

J »

Hm.

« tim

what

J »

Nothing.

« tim

……….what

*

« tim

did you NARC on me

to BRUCE

about LORD OF THE RINGS?????

J »

I don’t know what you’re talking about.

« tim

WHY DO I NOW HAVE 3 SEPARATE SUNDAY AFTERNOON “HOUSE MEETINGS” BLOCKED OFF IN MY CALENDAR, JASON? 

WHY ARE THEY EACH 4 HOURS LONG?

WHY ARE THEY LABELED “CULTURAL EDUCATION (MANDATORY)”? 

J »

I can’t pretend to know what goes on in B’s mind.

That said, I have reason to believe he and Alfred take lotr pretty seriously.

« tim

its a TWELVE HOUR MOVIE

about GOBLINS

J »

I’m not gonna respond to that bc I know youre just lashing out.

« tim

if youve sentenced me to 12 hours of a movie i hate i’m gonna hack everything you own. 

im gonna mass text the entire cape wearers community the footage of that time condiment king kicked your ass so bad he felt guilty and offered to personally help you out of the mustard pool 

J »

What the fuck

How do you fuckig know about ?????? that???????? 

Not that ithahpened 

What hefuckk ??

« tim

ooooooooo you better hope i love these goblins!

J »

Why are you?? evil??

« tim

you should have killed me when you had the chance!!

sorry.

J »

Its ok. That one was pretty funny tbh.

Oh hm shouldnt have laughed just then. Bad timing on my part

Brb

« tim

uh

« tim

ok…….. getting reports of a “disturbance” at pier two…….. 

« tim

sorry were you texting me *mid-standoff* with the russian mafia

« tim

ugh.

*

« tim

you know tracking your location would be so much easier if i didn’t have to hack into your comm sys every time

luckily your encryption is garbage but still. its 2 minutes of my life i wont get back.

J »

Not sure I recall giving you permission to track my location?

« tim

oh i’m sorry. next time i will simply leave you to go down with a texas oil magnate’s incredibly tacky yacht, or get swiss cheesified by mobsters 

J »

Hey I wrapped up the russians myself 

« tim

yeah? 

J »

…

Yeah….

« tim

so you thought the 12-minute universal signal jam was the act of a benevolent god? 

J »

:-|

« tim

im just saying it would be significantly more efficient if you agreed to a tracker

just one little tracker. you wouldn’t even notice it’s there.

think of all the time and energy you’d save me

J »

I feel the need to point out that you don’t have to repeatedly hack my comms system.

« tim

i mean it’s that or monitor sightings on the gocitizen app

i have an algo that texts relevant pings to me, which is super helpful for when i want an inbox full of random people talking about how hot you are. less helpful for literally every other circumstance 

J »

Uh

What

« tim

how hot *red hood is. to clarify

in their opinion

the people’s opinion

J »

?

« tim

the people of gotham city

J »

The people of Gotham city do not think Red Hood is hot lol

« tim

wait 

i cant tell if you’re being serious

J »

Uh? Yeah Im being serious? Lol tf

Why would they think hes hot 

They dont think Batman is hot 

« tim

o…kay…

huh.

how to… hmm

J »

Like nightwing sure

And the girls. Bc of objectification of women

« tim

oh wow

J »

Red Robin. If i had to guess

But when people see Hood its definitely not… that kind of response lol

« tim

what kind of response, exactly

J »

You know like saying “Hey Hood youre hot” 

« tim

oh, wow. 

okay. ummm

hmm. one sec.

J »

?

« tim

check your email 

J »

Ok…? 

J »

Oh my fucking god.

« tim

yeah

J »

Oh my god?

« tim

yeah

J »

This document is fucking 45 pages long?

« tim

its everything from the past 30 days yeah

J »

The past

Whaht the fuck

Ok some of these people definitely got hit by Poison Ivy.

This is . Tim wtf. I havent even heard of some of this stuff. 

« tim

oof are you on page 14

J »

Im on page 3???

« tim

oh my god

J »

What the fuck

Please please tell me its not like this for Batman too

Tim

« tim

its not like this for batman :)

J »

Ok. Jesus. I would genuinely have to move cities.

« tim

its worse :)

J »

Oh what the fuck

Oh my fucking god page 14.

You get this shit TEXTED to you?????

Ohm ygod. You read this?????

« tim

i mean

no

i glance at it

for security purposes.

i dont like, read it read it

anyway did you seriously not know? haha

J »

No??? Again its not like people tell me

« tim

yeah but

like

theres a certain level of objectivity involved, here

yknow

sorry im trying to find a non awkward way to be like “have you looked in a mirror lately” 

« tim

sorry

that was in fact awkward!

nvm

just let me know if you’d be ok with the tracker. its fine if not

i was mostly joking about the hacking

J (From Work) »

No you weren’t.

« tim

no i wasnt

i dont mind though. its like a brain teaser

anyway im going dark for patrol, later

*

J (From Work) »

[Screenshot Attached]

[Screenshot Attached]

[Screenshot Attached]

[Screenshot Attached]

[Screenshot Attached]

Question. why is the average Gotham citizen a raging horndog 

« tim

oh my god

you know i can tell you searched “red robin hot” right

J (From Work) »

Figured it was only fair

[Screenshot Attached]

This persons got some mad zoom lens skills

I’d think it was you, if it wasnt, yknow, you

« tim

wow. that is certainly a photo of my ass

…a stellar photo of my ass. wow. 

do you have a direct link? i gotta send this to steph

J (From Work) »

goctz.app/user/3824973/post/29348230df3

Haha

I kinda thought you and blondie broke up

back on again?

« tim

no lol we are very much just friends

she has a thing going with someone who shall remain nameless but suffice to say it’s Going

anyway we just send each other gocitizen vigilante ass shots 

its a whole genre

they’re like trading cards

J (From Work) »

Guess everyone’s got a hobby?

« tim

the only rule is no nightwing

J (From Work) »

Do I want to know why

« tim

he accounts for a frankly overwhelming percentage of vigilante ass shots

so its too easy

you’d THINK we’d have a no-batman rule, because ew, but due to the cape and his sixth sense for cameras pointed at him, a qualifying shot is actually extremely rare. 

← only guy who ever managed to take quality photos of batman 

anyway, we put it to a vote. i lost.

J (From Work) »

A vote between you and Steph? 

You lost a 50/50 vote?

« tim

i dont wanna talk about it.

J (From Work) »

Right. 

So what I’m getting from this is you have Red Hood ass shots in your phone.

« tim

no

J (From Work) »

No?

« tim

well

J (From Work) »

Yeah?

« tim

we don’t like, save them

that would be weird

we just notify each other. professionally, as colleagues 

and keep an ongoing points tally

thats all

so i do not currently have photos of your ass in my phone. thank you

J (From Work) »

How many points is my ass worth

« tim

i hate everything about this conversation

J (From Work) »

Its 100% your own fault, answer the question

« tim

if you must know. 

points are awarded based on a series of objective scoring criteria.

J (From Work) »

Uh huh. Like what

« tim

technical excellence

composition. lighting and color balance. 

dynamism 

J (From Work) »

Dynamism…

« tim

creativity

umm

emotional impact

and 

subject matter

J (From Work) »

I see.

« tim

ok i know it sounds bad

J (From Work) »

It sounds fucking hysterical Im near tears 

« tim

but if you think abou

oh

okay, well, great

J (From Work) »

I’ll let you know if I stumble on any more. 

Or is that cheating

« tim

its totally cheating

please do

J (From Work) »

You got it red. 👍

« tim

:)

[its-time-to-write]

hello i have a request for an idea i literally cannot get out of my head: jamie and a partner who is really into knitting/crocheting and they knit him something as a gift and the fluffiness that ensues xxx

this was a v cute ask!! Here you go!

glitter on the floor

Knitting is a luxury, something you only do when you have a good chunk of time set aside. You’ll pull out a project while watching a movie and each time without fail, Jamie Tartt will give you puppy dog eyes and ask, “Is that for me?”

It never is.

That’s because you’ve been working on something for him for Christmas, and you’re pretty sure it’s your best work yet. 

You and Jamie are planning on having a tiny Christmas celebration, just the two of you, before he’s off to Manchester and you’re on a plane to your parents. You’re going to put on matching pajamas and sit by the Christmas tree and eat a shit-ton of snacks, because you’re both adults who can do what you want, and what you want to do is gorge yourselves on everything you definitely shouldn’t have.

So here you are, a week before Christmas, all cozy at home exchanging gifts and giggling about what comes after presents, which may may not be a variation of sexy Christmas that you stole from Keeley. 

“Open this one next,” you say, handing Jamie a particularly interesting package. 

You’re grinning, but there’s something sinister in your eyes. Jamie’s not sure what to make of it because it’s Christmas, or at least it almost is, so why are you looking at him like a cat that just ate the family goldfish?

He hesitantly takes the proffered package, perfectly wrapped in forest green with a bright white bow. He unwraps it carefully, sets the ribbon aside, and opens a box to reveal- 

A sweater. 

He exhales a little. Oh good, it’s just a sweater. But your eyes are still gleaming so he’s sure there’s more to it, especially because you’re practically vibrating from the effort of keeping yourself from laughing. 

Jamie pulls the sweater from the box and it unfolds, revealing the fact that it is a couple sizes too large for him. But you’ve obviously made it so he’s going to like it anyway. 

“Turn it around,” you say before he can give you his appreciation. Jamie complies, to reveal words stitched to the front in flowing script. 

this is our Get Along sweater

“Ask me what it’s for,” you command gleefully and Jamie’s pretty sure he’s never seen you this silly, so he bites. 

“Alright, what the fuck is this for?” he asks, matching your grin. 

You have to bite back a laugh. “Ok so remember how we talked about you being an only child? But I had siblings and our parents had to figure out creative ways to discipline us? One of the ways was a ‘get-along’ shirt. The two of us who were fighting had to wear the same shirt until we got over it. Sometimes it took like three or four hours. And one time, my mom managed to get three of us in one. It was hilarious.”

“Sounds like,” says Jamie. “Doubt you were in it very often. So is this for you and me, then?”

You sniff. “As if. Putting on clothes never solves our arguments. It’s for you and Roy.”

The words are barely out of your mouth before Jamie’s saying, “Fucking hell,” and you’re in stitches. 

“I already told Ted about it,” you manage to gasp out. “I’m really only showing it to you right now, because I’m dropping it off at Nelson Road as soon as the holiday is over.”

“Christ,” is all Jamie can come up with. His only consolation is that he can’t imagine how Ted could force him and Roy into this sweater. He might be more susceptible to caving, but Roy? No way. 

(In this moment, Jamie overlooks Roy’s fondness for you, as well as Ted’s extreme stubbornness when it comes to enforcing new policies he just made up.)

Ted sends you a photo of the sweater in action a week after they return.

[reginalusus]

I don't know if this has been asked before but what are your headcanons for Harvey and two-face? Wholesome and not so wholesome 🔞 lol

Anything they have in common, for example are they both super organized/need things a certain way? Different love languages?

🩷

Oh, boy, do I...

By the way, I ramble a lot...

So this is gonna be long post.

It's just a thing with me. Only super-cool people relate. /j

I also tend to base *some* headcanons on what is already canon, or blend them in some way, so some of this might be old news.

Oh, and I'll put a cut before the suggestive ones just so people who don't want to see that sort of stuff can safely scroll by.

EDIT: The cut does not seem to be working because Tumblr hates me so, um, WARNING FOR SUGGESTIVE STUFF.

He's 6'5". His height has fluctuated in his appearances, but I much prefer when he's taller than Bruce, such as in Telltale and BTAS. BuT a DisTRIct AtTornEY dOesN't NeE- lalalalalala, I don't careeeeeee. I like the image of him being physically imposing, not just for villainous purposes, but also to juxtapose how much of a sweetheart he is, or was. There is also another reason.

He stims with his coin. Months back I talked in length about how I think Harvey might view his coin as a way to reclaim his abuse against his father, but I also see him using it as a comfort item, as sick as it may be (considering its past), and that the constant twirling and flipping is a way for him to stim.

He loves 50s/60s music. Namely the likes of Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra, Sam Cooke, Lesley Gore, Dean Martin, Roy Orbinson...

He sings! I know this is kind of canon, but that MF can sing. His Harvey voice is smooth and articulate, very vintage, meanwhile Two-Face's is, of course, raspier and almost more of a rocker's voice.

Two-Face names his guns. I've drawn some of these before, but Harvey doesn't bother with such nonsense. Harvey views weapons as a last resort; their mere existence throws justice into question. Why can someone wield such a thing that sets the odds in their favour immediately? But Two-Face knows they get the job done quickly. They're like the broom of Gotham; a quick way to be rid of the scum. So he names them, for they are beloved, much like how legendary weapons have been named in the past for what they have slain.

He dissociates/has derealization episodes. Yes, he has DID, and dissociation is in the name, but during really intense symptoms, such as his depression, paranoia and personalities all practically screaming in his head, he ends up having a bad derealization episode, much like how you would see someone have after they suffer a panic attack. His coin helps ground him.

He has definitely done that fucking pottery scene from Ghost with Gilda while she's sculpting. You know the one.

He's an elegant shooter but a brutish fighter. Not only is he a God with guns, he's also precise and elegant. But with physical combat? Brutal, much like a street fighter. I suppose both Batman and Deathstroke's training gets muddled in some ways...

His henchmen give him gifts now and then. They just do, and he doesn't understand it. Silly stuff, like bi-coloured mugs or shirts. Perhaps to keep his short-temperedness at some sort of bay. Doesn't work half the time, however.

He takes depression naps. Because of course he does. Having mental health issues is also physically taxing. I imagine he sleeps a lot, but also struggles to sleep at the same time because everything is so damn loud in his head.

He's bisexual. Gotta love both. Harvey has a preference for women, Two-Face has a preference for men.

Fussy with his suits and clothes. In The Judas Coin, we see Harvey's kind of a suit-nerd. Enough said. That MF loves to look good. Harvey loves stuff that's timeless and classic, very reminiscent of 40s/50s mafia wear, while Two-Face loves gaudy, striking stuff. They have to compromise, hence the split suits in the first place.

He doesn't like himself very much but just puts up with it. He's a walking contradiction, a hypocrite to himself. He claims to uphold the law but also bastardizes it. Also, he avoids mirrors and reflections if possible (that was something that was mentioned in his older issues, but they never brought it back, I don't think). He's smashed a mirror before, or two, or three.

He's a hopeless romantic. I've talked a little about this before, but he crushes hard, falls harder, and ever since being widowed, he pines for validation but seldom receives such because of his reputation.

He's a vintage lighter collector. He's got those S.T. Duponts and those 1970 electric Ronson's, I just know it.

Harvey constantly makes courtroom puns. Nobody laughs except Gilda.

He's an embarrassing dancer. He loves singing older tunes, but when it comes to dancing, he loves those cheesy 80 tunes. Get him drunk enough and he'll kill the dancefloor... with second-hand embarrassment.

So, I also have a lot of thoughts about The Judge too, but they're very scattershot and I'd rather compile them at another time, plus this post doesn't need to be any longer than what it is, lmao.

I also have more HCs around what he'd be like with the Batkids and Bruce, but again, this post is already long.

Ok, suggestive stuff now, and I'm going to kick it off with a hot take:

Harvey and Two-Face are monogamous. A really popular HC I've seen for Harvey is that he loves having multiple partners - two partners, of course, for each side of him. Well... I DISAGREE. /lh Personally, I think he prefers the one. He likes to purely focus on that one person and treat them like they're the only person that exists, in hope they'll do the same for him. To make him feel like he's whole; that, for once, he's not split.

Two-Face is protective and jealous. If you're out with him and he sees someone eyeing you up, out come the knuckle dusters.

He's dominant. And rough. But he'll always ask what you want; do you want to be praised or degraded while he's using you?

The coin can be fun. Sometimes he gets extremely impassioned and heated, and he just doesn't know what to do with his partner next. Good thing he has an item that helps him decide. The ambiguity of which side will turn up can add to the excitement!

Scar worship makes him melt. It just does. He hates that side of him, but seeing someone stroke or caress his scars, telling him how handsome he looks, that's a sure-fire way to send him over the edge. He'll probably fall in love.

Harvey shows love through words and actions, Two-Face shows it through gifts. Harvey will reassure his partner through words and keeping those words upheld. Meanwhile, Two-Face will corrupt his partners with gifts.

Two-Face is a bit clingy. He'll text a lot, call a lot, ask where his partner is, how they are, if they're ok. Harvey is more relaxed.

Aftercare King. He knows how strong he is and how violent (for lack of a better word) he can be. So he'll always check in with his partner to make sure they're fine.

Harvey is vocal and sappy, Two-Face isn't. Not just during the act, but afterwards. Harvey will want to cuddle, he'll want to talk over a cigarette, he wants to get to know his partner on a deeper level. Two-Face generally needs some room first. He might be a bit cold, but he'll come around.

Again, I have more in this regard, but that's what AO3 is for!

Oh, also, I saw your ask about Gerard Butler and his doggo... I agree, hehe, maybe Harvey can walk Dick's dog at some point, lol.

[stupidloafofbread]

I feel like you need more rcp on your blog so I’m going to ask the forrrr….silly headcannons! (any character in rcp btw) :3

Yeah I've uh, been lacking on that-

ANYWAYS UHH

Hcs you say? Bout time I redo these!

Starting with least to possibly most:

Jin!

- was raised in a house that would tend to broken vehicles, yet her mother was a bit of a...✨bitch✨ who always had planned for Jin to be exactly like her: running the broomstown rescue team. Well she got what she wanted, yet jin was MUCH nicer than her mother. But that's a story for another time ;3

- she had a brother. Keyword "had". Her little brother whose name was Hendrix died due to neglect from her mother. How did he die exactly? Poison.

- Anyways happy hc now: even if she bickers with helly, she sees him as a sorta little brother. ( =>)

Alr, now Amber

- As I've mentioned before, she can throw syringes at someone pretty easily. She's done it before (by accident!) to helly-

Now, this one may be triggering but I'm sorry :(

- orphan. Why? Basically her family had her put in a "special" school. She had two sisters but that now is only a memory. Why? Well that school had smth bad happen to it: a uh, school shooting.

Anyways happy hc now-

- Loves baking for her and her friends or people she cares about!-

Okay stopping with amber.

Onto Poli!

- Siren go weewoo/j I didn't know what to put here lmao

- Sometimes, he looks after the more "younger" residents if there's anything that comes up with their guardian(s) and takes them for a tour around the rescue station!

- Still, scared of caterpillars :3 (hey, I don't like them either, so he ain't alone/j)

- gets dragged into chaos with Helly sometimes (either willingly because boredom or forcibly-)

- like some people, I hc him to be able to speak korean mostly because I think he was raised in Korea✨

And now Roy (who I actually don't have that much for but screw it✨)

- got taught korean by poli just to mess with the others because why not. (I'll let y'all decide what they talk about✨)

- knows other languages but prefers to stick with English :3

- if a STH show exists in their world, his favorite character would be knuckles (polis favorite would be sonic, helly's favorite is tails and Amy✨)

- Now, if you don't specify a thing your giving him isn't edible, he will immediately eat it. Don't ask why, he just does.

Okay helly time✨

- Asexual son of a bitch/j

- oh and trans :> (FtM?)

- he has a whole bunch of scars from falling and running into things

- honestly, he doesn't care if you use they/them or he/him when referring to him

- as stated before, favorite sonic characters are: Tails, Amy, Silver and Charmy

- surprisingly, likes horror books! And no, they actually don't cause him nightmares-

- surprisingly good at playing Pac-Man and has beat poli's high score multiple times (thats the only thing they can't stand about each other/j)

And that's all of them for now!

Thanks dust :3

- Bread

[cato616]

NEGOTIATING OVER US (part eight)

roman roy x fem! reader

notee: I can't believe I only started to write here last week and im already writing part eight (I know tho that they're not pretty long, but :')))

summary: roman takes you back to your place, and since you're pretty drunk, you let out some truth that may unite you more, or even less. We'll have to see

content/warning: hungover?, still a lot of fluff and angst but no +18 in this episode,, be patient :'(

Roman opens the door of your flat for you, while you rest your body hanging your arm over his shoulder. You had sleepy eyes from all the alcohol, everything was still pretty blurry, meaning, you were most likely to bump into everything in your way, but that's where roman was to help you. "Okay careful, sit just right here." He quietly directs your path all the way to the couch, very gently. You were sitting on the couch, definitely not feeling good, it was not a good look. Eyes closed and head down, pretty normal you would think when drinking, but doesn't make it better. Roman was standing in front of you, looking down at you, analysis the whole situation. Your body starts slowly falling down to the right, by then rapidly getting yourself laying on the couch, with both feet still standing on the floor, not very comfortable.

Roman quickly acts and grabs your head and shoulder to lift you up on a slow motion. He knows it was better for you to get some sleep, but he'd thought it would be more comfortable if you were on your bed. So that's when he decides to make you stand up and walk you to your bedroom, he would have your arm hang over his shoulder once again, by then guiding you over your bed, sitting you down. You had never see him like this before, more like you would never thought he would be like this with anyone. Gently puts your head over the pillow and lifts up both your legs on top of the bed. He did also stood right next by your bed, analysis you one more time, so he could leave you alone at last. He squats next to you, "Okay uhh... I won't bother any longer, hope you sleep well by the way." He whispers into near you; you hear him, although it looked like you were sleeping since you had your eyes closed, but you did hear him.

He then get up to make his way to the door; right at the second he put a foot in front of the other, you stopped him from walking any further, by grabbing his arm very strongly. "You can stay." You replied softly, still on hold of his arms as strong as you could, knowing that the alcohol you've drank, had made you weaker, obviously, but you grabbed that arm like life depended on it, however, for you, it kind of did.

Roman froze for a second after your suggestion. "are you sure?... I don't think you actually want me here, it's best if I go." He would let go of you, and when almost getting out of the room, with much effort you tried to lift yourself up from the bed, tho you stayed sat, to make him stop him from leaving again and again. You felt like you couldn't be in your room alone like that ever again. "don't you dare roman." You spoke as hard as you could. "I want you here, I always wanted you here." You stated. "Even that day, when I was in the shower..." You both went silent. "Okay maybe that was a bit of much information." immediately regretted speaking about that. "but if you want the truth, that's that." Roman stayed put, he didn't leave just yet, but was having doubts, he definitely wanted to stay tho, that's for sure, but you needed to give him something more, to convince him. "why on earth do you think I went to the party?." You asked on a loud note, tired he haven't decided to stay just yet, and it's making you uneasy. "um because you felt pity." He smirked feeling bold about his answer. "oh no I have to go to the dipshit's party but I don't know how cope with that idiot, I have an idea, let's drink!" He tried to mimic you with a silly voice. The feeling of rage was what came out of you after his mock. You were so pissed off that you didn't even notice you didn't fall to the ground out of dizziness when you got up from the bed to talk to him up close. "oh my god, do you really think that?."

"All I wanted was to talk, if you could imagine that, but of course you can't, I'm just a half hearted that doesn't have any feelings, and obviously you drank the whole bar to make the night easy for you, and avoid the dumbass, me." You couldn't even try to believe what he deduced. You didn't know if you should feel sad how he would picture himself like that, or be more frustrated with his stubborn ass. "you're making my head hurt, you really are." Unnerved as you were, massaging your front head with both of your hands, trying to think straight. You sat back on the bed, going easy on yourself. "Roman, I may understand why you can't trust me, but I am saying the truth, I was stupid when I got mean like that the other night, but even after you left my apartment that day, I got so, so miserable, you have no idea." You had enough of speaking for yourself, putting your hands over your whole face, out of exhaustion. "so, if I say that I want you here, it's because I do, I need you to." You affirmed, still covering up your face.

After that, roman was more than convinced, he slowly came down to you. You take your hands off your face to then look up at him, he was standing very dominant; however, he sat right next to you, and started gazing at your eyes. "yeah I think so too, I should stay." He spoke without taking his eyes off of you; you laugh a bit. "I don't think you said you wanted to stay." You corrected him of what you think it was just a response in the heat of the moment. "I did think about it, but didn't say it." took advantage of now correcting your saying.

Your faces weren't far from each other, you wanted him whole. Although, there was something weird about him, at first he was looking into your eyes, but slowly started to drift off, he was smirking but in a despairing way. "what... what's going on?" Didn't expect he would react like again, in a middle of an act. "This is, um, not very... should- should we maybe see each other another time? it's late and you're definitely still drunk." As he says that, he stood up from the bed, wanting to leave the place once more. You didn't move, completely mystified by his behavior. "what? hold on, what happened? why the sudden change of moods? and I'm fine thank you... I think it's actually wearing off." You stared at him, waiting for an answer. "uuh okay, um well." He was accommodating himself back on the bed, seems like he wants to reveal something, as you stayed on your place, still staring at him, while confusion grew wilder; you smirked at him, thinking he might confess something stupid, one of his shows; 'your mother and I had lovely sex' or something disgusting like that, the usual roman stuff, but, he had more of an sombre expression on his face, maybe no jokey this time.

"what, roman what is it?" You felt nervous what he might say. "so, perhaps this matter won't be a huge deal, and im making myself anxious in vain, but, maybe it will, I don't know, there's just some details I wanted to share, that possibly you would want to know?" oh he's serious; you think for yourself, while you stand back a little bit and full on look at his eyes, trying to see whether he's about to joke or not, you deducted that he wasn't, and so that smile faded. "oh... so, do tell?" Very curious to hear what he was about to announce. "this is about your coffee shop?" You instantly replied back, very worried what he might tell. "wha-what happened to my shop?" The whole vibe was changed in the room, from melodrama to business, you supposed. "I want to talk about something of the deal you- we know about, and some info that you might wanna know... that I didn't tell you before, but because I couldn't, however I do want to, now" He scratched his head and pinched his right ear, very much anxious, making his way to find the words. "the café it wasn't the only deal we had to take, well of course we didn't end it with yours, but the others... they are from the same block as your café" He slows down trying to collect himself, thinking what to say. "I mean, maybe you were hoping what would happen if you were happen to sell it" He kept on making pauses "And the whole thing is, we are taking a few buildings down, to make just the one, a new building for a new product deal you could say..." He doesn't looks at you yet, but not because he was worried for a response, he was hiding something else. "I mean, I suppose I thought they would've taken down my shop, that's why I don't want and won't sell it rome-" He interrupts. "that's the thing, that yeah I suppose that it may not play out like that?" He shrugged. "what do you mean it won't play out like that, wha-what's that." You started to get defensive. "The other owners had already agreed as I told you, and that kind of construction, as it's already planned... it might have no other option but to destroy your shop too, since it's the only way to do it... I don't know you'd have to ask some engineer or architect guy here to explain it, but that's all I know."

The tears that were building up, were boiling with rage. but no action was coming out of you, if you could hit, punch or even slap the hell out of roman, you would, but you couldn't. Mind blank, body moveless.

The only thing that could go through your mind, was memories, of the shop, nothing more, you could only think about her.

[flashback] (only dialogue)

There's a younger version of you, from a few years back, right outside of your coffee shop, not even open, yet to be inaugurated. And right next to you, Kate. Your dear best friend.

kate: "look how far we've come y/n, our dreams have come true."

you: "opening day is tomorrow but oh, how much I would like to grab those scissors now and barge right in"

kate: (she chuckles) "I know, me too." "but we did it, let's appreciate that today, since, tomorrow we start working"

(you both laugh)

kate: but seriously, this is big y/n, our new piece of the world and it will be ours and ours only, we'll make people happy here, I just know this one, will be special, and no one can stop it from make it happen."

kate: "we made it."

[end of flashback]

You stood up, didn't even look over roman; walked towards your window in front of you, you were feeling sorrow. Out the window, you looked up to the sky, wondering where she might be; made you even more vulnerable, your legs felt weak, making you fall on your knees, closed your eyes, and slowly shaking your head. "I couldn't do it, I couldn't." you whisper to yourself, as you grab your stomach firmly, and bent your head down, not opening your eyes. "hey hey, talk to me, y/n I'm really sorry, but hey look at-" You didn't think twice and suddenly decided to hug Roman; you didn't care whatever doing he had with your shop, you knew that you didn't want to be lonely anymore, and roman was the only one you needed unfortunately given the circumstances.

"I don't, understand... I thought you'd hate my guts." seemed utterly surprised. "I don't know if I do anymore." You wipe out the tears running down your cheeks. "is that why... you came to the shop so many times to convince me to sell it?." You were starting to connect some dots, clearing your head a little bit. "I did, yes, and if you were never to sell it, soon enough you were going to get kicked out, with a warrant, but without you knowing about it obviously..." You were both sitting on the ground viewing the city from your window. "so you knew, I did get that, but wow." Roman had already mentioned about it, but you had to still process it, even if you didn't hate him. Roman was still ashamed, looking only to the ground when talking. "at first, it was nothing but business, and shit I know I was the 'roman piece of shit' back on those days, and I guess I didn't, or even, don't care that much about some other people, but... well, I got to know you, and thought, 'she deserves to know' and stuff..." He doesn't know how to react when speaking truthfully about his feelings, but at the moment, you didn't need truth, you needed, peace.

You looked at him, straight in the eyes, he didn't want to look at yours; however, by just placing your hand over his arm was sufficient to seek his attention, even if he was already regretting it. Your eyes met, and you wanted him to see you, you were helpless, needing much his help, thinking it may not be too late. "If you, roman roy, thought I deserved to know that kind of information, then I know you are the one who can help me on this." You turned your body over to him, both knees on the ground, almost pleading to him. "And honestly, I don't know if I can fully trust you, because again, you're roman roy, and you're a piece of shit." You were still on your knees but lifted your upper body, seemingly more taller than him, as he was sitting on the ground. "So I wouldn't be surprised if I lose this, that means I gotta give this a try, you can help me."

Roman doesn't answer, feeling a little bit remorseful for his actions in the past. You made him looked at yourself, lowering your body onto him, gripping on his arms, and then grabbing his face slowly leading to meet your eyes. "it's not business, not money, you know there's just personal value I have on it, nothing more than that, I'm not using you, and you know that." You desperately try to get him to answer to you. You've taken a grip of him by his face and made him listen to you. "I get it, you feel like you're going to screw this up, because you don't trust yourself, that's the problem isn't it? that I can't fix, but I do see you rome, you have to believe me, I don't hate you, but I already told that before haven't I?" You grabbed him by his shirt, tightly. "Then you know it's all in good faith, and oh I know how you find those words together disgusting, but... if you wish to know, I actually need you roman, I need you, always."

You waisted no time, and took action. When having already been on hold of his shirt, you took him over your direction, and kissed him. Something you've been waiting to do for a while, and so did he.

The first surprise kiss was short and tender, but then roman decided to get another significant one, longer, passionate, and playful. You both stood up, and your hands were all over touching each other's body, the neck, the hair, the back; he loved grabbing your face with both hands when kissing you tho. As you were gasping for air, breathing heavier, heart pounding, everything was warmer, and wetter. But roman took the time to make that playful little intimate moment to last for a while.

Until he slightly tries to stop, to talk, while giving soft kisses when still speaking. "I know what you want right now, but not today, but I can stay here just like you wanted, sleep with you, and I will... I will help you." As he kept on kissing you with desire, and you were honestly impressed he was controlling himself like that.

After a long session of a kissing show, starring the very talented roman roy, you decided to finally go to bed, you were feeling very, very much tired, even you. You were laying down inside the bed, facing each other, contemplating your true selves. You have never seen him this relaxed before, he's loosen up, with you.

"thank you, for, seeing me, as you said." His words melted into your heart, your lower lip protruded in a sulky pout, you couldn't help it, you were feeling so overwhelmed he was confessing his gratitude. "thank you, for helping me" You said back.

You kissed on the cheek, and the on the mouth, a long one; both feeling it for a few seconds. Then went to sleep, but facing each other still.

The other night you didn't have no one at all, and so for a lot of other few nights; but now you do, and tomorrow you'll start a new journey with him, helping you keep what you got, and from now, preserve what you've acquired, what you've been needing for a while, so you'll try not to lose him again. Tomorrow will be different.

continue.

[canonfatbisexualenby]

Word Count: 2k+

Rating: T (13+)

A/N: Takes place after S3E4 and before S3E5!!

Sara looked into the office’s bathroom mirror and adjusted her headband. She sighed, lightly, brushing off her skirt. Today had been a full one.

With Michael learning about the death of his former boss, she had been on Scott Emotional Duty with full force . She loved her uncle, but sometimes he could be quite the handful. But she knew the same could be said about her.

Of course, she was as professional as possible when on the clock. Not speaking unless spoken to, trying not to get involved in office politics, minding her business every second she could. But outside of work she felt like she was completely different.

Saying too much, saying not enough, overreacting, under reacting. She felt like a total mess, if she was being honest with herself.

She sighed quietly and exited the bathroom.

Quickly, she looked over at reception, knowing she had a small window to ask what she wanted to. Pam was locked into her computer currently, probably trying to catch up with the faxes she had promised to send for Stanley. Sara mildly chewed at her bottom lip, nervous.

She had recently been noticing changes in herself, at least regarding the inner mechanics of her work life. She was now excited. She was eager to get there early, she’d been having casual conversations more with coworkers, she was actually enjoying her days there. And she knew what it was but feared to admit it.

When she first started it was just a way to make money. But then she met her. Pam Beesly.

She knew it was foolish and silly, since she when she first met her she was engaged. It was never gonna happen, and she certainly wasn’t going to try to break a years long relationship for a woman she figured was straight. But Pam was just, so kind. Nice, considerate, funny. And today had especially proved that. Michael had consistently made Pam uncomfortable and crossed the line, but despite all that, she did something super sweet for him. And it did give her a slight boost of confidence she didn’t have to worry about Roy saying no to Pam going out anymore.

Sara walked up to the reception desk and placed her hands on the counter.

“Hi.” she said quietly. Pam looked up from her screen and smiled. “Hey.”

“I know this may be kind of sudden, and it’s totally cool if you can’t, but I was just wondering if you’d like to go out for a drink or something tonight?”

Pam seemed to ponder the question, her eyes looking up for a few seconds. She paused briefly before replying “Sure, why not? After today I could use a couple of beers, honestly.”

Sara felt her face almost flush at Pam answering so quickly. She prayed it barely showed and smiled back.

“Poor Richard’s?” Sara asked. Pam nodded and gave her a thumbs up.

They both managed to arrive around 5:30-ish, due to traffic. Sara got inside before Pam, grabbing them a couple of seats at the bar.

She sat down and placed her handbag on the stool next to her, saving Pam’s spot. She peered up and caught her reflection in the bar’s mirrored back wall.

Sara sighed, adjusting her headband and glasses. She felt nervous about being around Pam outside of work. What if she said something dumb? What is she somehow embarrassed herself? What if Pam had a bad time and decided just to remain work acquaintances at best? It pained her to admit it, but in and outside of work Sara didn’t have many friends.

Before she could really get into thinking more about it she saw Pam walk in. She waved her over and smiled.

Pam sat down and removed her coat. “You sure you wanna sit up here?” she asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Sara chuckled nervously. “I’m weird about sitting with my back completely to the door and the bar’s a good compromise for a table or booth.” she answered.

Pam nodded and smiled sweetly in response. “Also maybe we’ll get our beers in a timely manner.” She quipped. Sara smiled back, giggling.

About half a beer into the evening, Pam turned to Sara.

“You know, and, I mean this in the nicest way possible, you’re super quiet.” Pam pondered while taking a sip “Even more so than Toby, and I get about three sentences tops from him on a daily basis.”

Sara nodded politely, considering her answer for a second. “Well, I’m just sort of shy I suppose. I get nervous in crowds sometimes, even if I know everybody.” She sipped from her bottle and tried desperately not to peel at the label. “And I mostly just try to keep to myself. No use in the risk of mixing work with pleasure, you know? I think that usually ends with people getting hurt.” She took another sip and looked over at Pam.

She smirked and nodded, replying “Well what would you call what we’re doing right now?” and took a quick sip from her own bottle, eyebrows raised playfully.

Sara felt her face flush slightly. She figured the bar was dim enough to hide any trace of blush on her cheeks. She pushed up her glasses, looking away briefly.

“Well, I’d call this a ‘thank you for putting up with my Uncle Mike’ celebratory drink. A drink in honor of the bird, if you will.”

“I see.” the other woman retorted and chuckled.

Pam took a moment to check her lipstick in her compact mirror. As she did, Sara took an opportunistic glance at her.

It was something she did often, but felt embarrassed doing nonetheless. It used to feel wrong to do because Pam was engaged and now just felt silly because Sara knew it wouldn’t lead to anything. That’s what she told herself whenever her stomach dropped taking in Pam’s beautiful bright green eyes. The ones she begged to look at her all day, foolishly.

Sara cleared her throat slightly and turned away, looking down at her shoes.

Towards the end of the night, Sara gathered the courage to tell Pam what she’d wanted to all day.

“Hey, Pam.” She said, feeling her stomach turn. She looked at Sara, seemingly curious. “Mm-hm.”

“I know...” Sara started, trailing off as she tried to keep her nerve. Her heart was beating a mile a minute and she just barely had enough beer in her for some ‘liquid courage’. She bit her lip and gulped “This might be silly, but I really wanted to thank you for what you did for Michael today.” she finally got out the words, albeit a little mumbled and fast.

“Oh, the whole funeral thing?” She chuckled and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear “It’s no big deal.” she shrugged in an exaggerated manner “I try to help out when and where I can and, hey, at least we got a small break from all the chaos of the morning.” Sara nodded.

“Well, maybe to you it’s not a big deal but it really meant a lot to me that you went through any kind of trouble to help my Uncle Mike feel better. I know he’s not always been the best to you and, all that considered, it was a really kind thing you did.”

Pam grinned widely, her eyes glinting slightly in the low light as they creased. “And-“ Sara pursed her lips for a moment “I know we’re just barely friends or whatever, but I’d really regret it if I never let you know you’re one of the kindest co-workers in the building. And that I think the office would be a lot less tolerable if you weren’t there.”

Sara looked at the bar, worried she had socially misstepped and overshared because of the alcohol in her system as what she had just said repeated in her head.

“That’s really sweet of you, thanks.” Pam replied. “And hey,” she continued, placing her hand on Sara’s shoulder lightly “You’re a really good co-worker too. Definitely one of the coolest girls in the office.”

Sara looked up at Pam, scrambling to find the right words to say back. Her cheeks felt like they’d burn up into the atmosphere and she suddenly noticed how dry her mouth was.

“Thank you.” she replied simply, deciding not to overthink it. Pam gave her shoulder a small squeeze before letting go and turning to wave the bartender over.

Sara followed Pam along to her car at the end of the night, making sure she was safe before the ride home.

“Well...” she pushed up her glasses, placing her hand against Pam’s car gingerly “Please drive home carefully in this thing.” Pam giggled “Oh, I’ll try my best.” she stepped forward slowly and Sara suddenly felt Pam hug her, a tad awkwardly at first, before Sara could adjust her position so they’d intertwine properly. Pam’s cheeks felt warm against the cool night breeze and the air filled with the smell of her perfume and soap. Sara quickly pulled back, happy but overwhelmed by her touch. She didn’t completely let go, but pulled back enough they were now facing each other, their faces only inches apart.

The wind whipped around again as Pam closed her eyes, laughing and smiling widely, her golden brown hair moving wildly around her face. Sara felt her heart flutter and beat at this small moment in time, feeling the touch of Pam’s hands on her upper back and arm.

Before she could stop and analyze her next move, Sara felt her own arm raise up. Pam’s eyes opened as Sara tucked a small lock of hair behind her ear, giving a small smile back.

Pam parted her lips, as if to speak, but just paused and said nothing. Sara felt her breath against her own, their faces so close. She tried not to as best as she could, but to no avail, looked down at Pam’s parted mouth.

Pam leaned forward and kissed her. Sara felt all the worries of the day melt away, her shoulders and arms relaxing as she leaned into the kiss.

She inhaled deeply as Pam moved her lips and suddenly pulled back, cursing at herself for letting her guard down this much. As much as she enjoyed the kiss, it was against her ‘code’ to get this close to a co-worker. Literally and metaphorically.

“Pam...” Sara exhaled, catching her breath in the cool evening air “Don’t...” she stepped back, Pam’s arms falling as she looked on, confused “Don’t do something you’ll regret with me.” She stared at the gravel beneath her feet and chewed at her bottom lip.

“What do you mean?” she asked, flustered.

“I...I’m not trying to be presumptuous but I figure it’s been pretty tough since your breakup with Roy, and-“ Sara looked up, Pam staring back with widened eyes “And perhaps you’re just feeling lonely. I promise I’m not trying to be cruel, I just don’t think this is the best idea considering we work together.”

Pam took a couple of steps back and nodded. Her face flushed from the previous kiss and her lips turned down into a slight grimace.

“Yea, maybe you’re right. We’ve both been drinking a little and I’m in a big transitional period in my life and we’re co-workers...” she fixed the smudges of lipstick around her mouth as she trailed off.

“It’s nothing personal I promise.” Sara said, fumbling with a loose button on her coat. “There’s just...some things I don’t do with the people I work with” she sighed. Her stomach felt tight with regret.

“Please get home safe, okay?” she muttered quickly, looking down again to avoid Pam’s gaze. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” she glanced at Pam briefly and walked towards her own car.

Sara turned the key and sighed deeply. Her heart was beating rapidly and her hands trembled slightly.

She pushed the power button to the radio and tried to distract herself with whatever garbage was on the top 40 stations.

Work would definitely be more interesting in the near future.

Taglist (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed!): @deadlock @gideongrovel

[seiya-starsniper]

10 fandoms/10 characters/10 tags

FUCK YEAH LET'S GO BLORBO LOVING HOURS

Tagged by the amazing @sans--seraph and @verminetroglodyte

Loki from MCU He is single-handedly responsible for my descent into madness with the MCU. None of my friends could get me to watch a single movie until the bestie one day said, "Hey you should come watch Thor with us, there's a character we think you'd like" and it was OVER after that.

The Corinthian from Sandman A lot of people probably think my favorite character must be Dream or Hob because of my ship but nope, it's The Corinthian. My beloved serial killing, eyeball eating, just needs a hug and some validation baby, I love you so. Also, it helps that he'd played by Boyd Holbrook, who I was OBSESSED with as a teen when he was a twinky model lmao.

Hawks from My Hero Academia I know Hawks is a pretty polarizing character in the fandom, and I think that's part of the reason why I love him so so much. He's technically one of the "good guys" as a hero yes, but he has done so many questionably things in the name of corrupt hero society. He's the type of character I'm not sure I'd like if he were a real person, but I think that's part of what makes him so interesting. Absolute sweetheart on the outside, but will gut you like a fish if he thinks it's for the greater good.

Seto Kaiba from Yu-Gi-Oh MY OG BLORBO I LOVE YOU SO 💖💖💖 What else is there to say about this iconic boy? He's a dick. He's rich, screw the rules he has money. He's a meme. He is absolutely over the top and tries to insist he has no friends but he's been adopted by the heroes as a bestie. Love him forever.

Sara Lance from DCTV/Arrowverse I've GOTTA include my White Canary queen because she was my bisexual awakening. I had always known I had some attraction to women, and even had gone by pan for a little bit, but lord my attraction to women came alive with Sara. I may not longer care for Arrowverse, but Sara Lance will always have a special place in my heart.

Hiccup Haddock from How to Train Your Dragon Hiccup holds a special place in my heart for bucking the trend on traditional protagonists. He's a little weakling. People underestimate him. He doesn't always get things right! But he loves fiercely, he's determined, he's smart, and he believes the best in everyone. One of my favorite blorbos ever.

Roy Mustang from Fullmetal Alchemist Smarmy bastard with a heart of gold. He will go the distance to protect those he loves, and he's not afraid to burn people to a crisp to do it. He knows his weaknesses and tries to push past them anyways if he needs to protect someone he loves. Best boy, I love him so.

Harley Quinn from DC Comics Another important character in my bisexual development ahahha. I know Harley's kind of over saturated the market as a Strong Female Character but she's still so important to me for so many reasons. She came out on the other side of an abusive relationship. She's funny, she's silly, she loves life, no matter how many wrenches get thrown at her, literally and figuratively. And her relationship with Pam is SO IMPORTANT to me ahhhhhhhhh.

Jyn Erso from Rogue One Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeee. I love her. She's a grump. She's a survivor. She's a tragic figure drawn into a war she never asked to be a part of and she dies for a cause that never knowing how important her impact truly was. I have read a million fix-it fics and AUs of her and the whole Rogue One crew and still love her to this day.

Q from James Bond (Daniel Craig Movies) My nerdy baby. He's so smart and so awkward and so endearing it hurts. I love him so. He has two cats and a mortgage. Bond takes too much advantage of his goodwill and Q lets him because he's in love a good friend.

Tagging: @rooftopwreck @virgo-dream @nygmobblepot-trash @lyriclorelei @gil212 @valeriianz @valiantstarlights @writing-for-life @two-hands-toward-the-sun @bazzybelle

[abubblingcandle]

Tagged by the wonderful @nativestarwrites

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

278

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

736,445

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently Ted Lasso and Strike Back. In the past ... so much shit but mostly Les Miserables, Avengers, Daredevil, Star Wars

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

All from my Avengers/Harry Potter crossover days apart from 5 which is The Sandman

Not One For Moonlit Skies (3162)

Hiding in the Closet (2315)

Don't They Teach You Interrogation Skills Here (2184)

Still the Wealthiest Man in the Room (2046)

Our Little Life Is Rounded With A Sleep (1466)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! Always. I just appreciate every comment so much and want the commenters to know it has been read and it has been appreciated.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Like a Black Hole for sure! I usually write Hurt/Comfort and thrive on a happy ending but this one would have been ruined with one. It's angst from start to finish.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Accidental Father Figure Acquisition. It ends with Jamie and Henry just having a nice time and having fun with each other!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I've only had a couple of shitty comments in my time but just a quick delete and then moved on with my life.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No. I'm ace and it is not the most fun for me but I am trying to branch out and have been working with some people on some more kinky potentially smutty stuff to try and challenge myself but it is incredibly slow going because guess what, I keep on getting derailed with whump.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I used to but less so now. It's probably Recruitment which was my short and silly Assassins Creed Black Flag / Black Sails crossover fic

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes! An Atlantis BBC fic of mine was taken and sold on amazon and places during that run when a bot was doing that!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! I can't remember which one off the top of my head but it happened and it was a beautiful moment

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No but it sounds fun!

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

So I love Roy and Jamie but like in whatever way. Like their relationship is so important to me but mostly not really for it's romantic bits. I just want them both to be with each other and happy. I'm just as happy with a platonic relationship as I am a romantic one.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I do want to finish all the Ted Lasso stuff I've started but I do think anything for any earlier fandoms I probably won't

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think character voice. Like I like to think I'm good at the characters being true to what they should be and being able to get them to operate and emote how people are expecting

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I am really bad at writing a satisfying ending. I just never know what to do to stick the landing

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I am incredibly bad at languages so am skeptical of doing it right and doing it justice but I may try at some point

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Eragon. It was a super bad fic about Murtagh during the series. It was so bad.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Oooo this is like asking me to pick between my children but it has to be Where the Hell is the Karma?

It swelled into something I never thought it would be and I'm so proud to have got it finished and to have a final product I am proud of

I don't know who has already been tagged so just going to guess at some people I don't think have. No pressure and also if you want to do it then just go for it!! @oldfashionedmorphine @sighonaraa @asteria-argo

[beantothemax]

“ROI! WATCH YOUR LEFT!”

A knife soared through the air, piercing a looming Shadow in the neck, disintegrating it. Roi stepped back, closing his eyes and summoning an inner strength. Warmth spread through his fingers as he summoned a beam of light, targeting all of the surrounding Shadows and sending them running, stumbling around blindly.

“Am I going crazy, or are they getting stronger? The Shadows, I mean,” Ritsu leaned on his sword, chest heaving. There was a thin line of blood on his cheek, which he seemed to be ignoring.

Kaldena glanced around them, checking for more Shadows. “You’re not crazy. They have been growing in power. ...I fear soon we won’t be able to hold them back. We have to return the dawn soon, whatever it takes.”

Pirro shot her a look. “When the one who wanted the eternal night says we need to bring back the dawn, you know it’s bad,” he commented, and recieved a kick to the shin. “Ow-! Watch it, you’re wearing armoured boots!”

Roi looked around. “...Where’s Tanzy and Trousseau?”

Kaldena straightened, ignoring Pirro’s scathing remarks. “They went to search for food. ...They should be back by now...”

As if on cue, the two appeared beside the group. Trousseau’s apothecary bag was full of different plants, while Tanzy was using her top skirt as a makeshift basket to hold berries and other fruits. “We found food!” She declared, a bright smile on her face. Trousseau grinned. “And I made sure they were all safe to eat beforehand.”

Everyone said a word of thanks to the duo as they made their way back to their little campsite on the Eastern Cropdale Trail. Soon they would head into the village (if the Shadows didn’t attack again before then) to try and restock on provisions and sleep on real beds before tracking down the travellers.

“If push comes to shove,” said Ritsu after swallowing his food, “we can just relight the Flames ourselves. Tanzy counts as a scholar, right?”

Tanzy nodded. “I have been professionally taught the ways of magic, yes. By all accounts, I would be a scholar.”

“We’d need Ori’s help,” Kaldena added. “But she’s in Cropdale as we speak, so we may be able to recruit her before she leaves if we hurry.”

“Wait, wouldn’t Tanzy count as the dancer?” Roi asked.

Trousseau shrugged. “Maybe both will count. If not, then...”

“...I would count for the dancer,” Kaldena said quietly. “I made a living for a while as a dancer, before I joined the Sacred Guard. Ritsu would be the warrior. Roi would obviously be the cleric, as Pirro would be the thief.”

“So then, why would we even waste time with the travellers when we could just relight the Flames ourselves?” Trousseau asked.

“Wait. We’d need Petrichore’s help, too. We need a hunter,” Roi interjected.

“Shit, you’re right... Do we know where she is?” Ritsu asked, and Tanzy nodded. “Yes. She’s in Wellgrove, helping tend to the Shadow problem there. First, though, let’s focus on Ori. Then we can get Petrichore, and go relight the Flames.”

With that happy plan in mind, they all retired for the night, Ritsu and Kaldena staying up to take the first watch.

MAV IM RUNNING LAPS AROUND YOU AND SHAKING YOU VIOLENTLY AND THROWING MYSELF INTO A TAR PIT AND

I LOVE THIS!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE THESE SILLIES INTERACTING!!!!!!!!!!! I LOCE THE LIL BANTER AS THEY FIND OUT THEY PRACTICALLY MEET THE OCTOPATH CLASS REQUIREMENTS!!!!!!!!! I LOVE THIS AU SOSOSO MUCH ALREADY AAAAAAAAAAAAAA THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS I WANT TO SAY ABOUT THIS

[gothamnewsnetwork-official]

BREAKING NEWS: Not One, but Two secret marriages within the Wayne household?

Elusive screenshots prove two secret affairs between Gotham and Star City

Monday afternoon a twitter thread was started, less than an hour later it was deleted from the face of the earth. What could be in this elusive twitter thread? The proof of two secret weddings, over two decades apart, between the Elites of Gotham city and Star City. Thankfully Tumblr user @batfamhastwitter was able to chronicle the ordeal and repost it for the world to see.

The thread was started by twitter user silly lily bobily (@lilypoplilypop on twitter) who stated

“honestly if you haven’t had a drunken vegan wedding what are you doing with your life”

To which infamous Star City billionaire, Oliver Queen (@queenofstarcity), replied with

“true that”

This sparked a heated exchange between Mr. Queen, Dick Grayson-Wayne (@not_a_dick_joke), and Roy Harper (@_roy_harper). Mr. Harper is a known associate of Mr. Queen (some may speculate the two to be father and son, but this has never been confirmed), as well as a friend of the Wayne’s two eldest sons (though it may be more than just friendship with one of the two).

Mr. Wayne himself ended up replying to the initial thread, hinting to his involvement in this alleged shotgun wedding, though this is not where the story takes an odd turn. Not only had the marriage between Mr. Queen and Mr. Wayne not been annulled (as the two had previously believed) and therefore had made them legally married for more than two decades at this point, but this also legally makes their children step-siblings (though this may be debated given that nearly all of the Wayne children are adopted and there is no direct proof of Mr. Queen and Mr. Harper being related).

We bring this up to highlight the sheer absurdity of the second half of this situation.

Mr Todd (or Todd-Harper as we will later find) when asked why he was so disconcerted over the idea of his long-term best friend being his stepbrother replied that he didn’t like the idea of being married to his stepbrother. This shocked both Mr. Grayson and later the rest of the extended Wayne family as, according to the thread, the couple had not only eloped but nobody aside from the family buttler, Alfred Pennyworth, had known the two were in any form of romantic relationship.

When asked about it, Mr. Todd-Harper adamantly denied that the two were married and were simply fiancées. Though this would still be a shock to the family, an anonymous source has let us know that there is indeed a marriage license filed for Mr. Jason Todd-Harper and Mr. Roy Todd-Harper (the names stated on the document).

The only potential witness, Mr. Pennyworth, has not been available for comment, therefore the validity of both claims is unknown, however it seems to be leaning towards the fact that yes, the two are married. This publication simply wonders what the next Wayne family scandal will be as they just can’t seem to stay out of the headlines for long.

What are your thoughts on the topic? Let us know (here)

For more posts on this topic click (here), (here), (here)

Gotham Reports is certified in unbiased, reliable, and fair reporting.

Part 7! Next part with more of Bruce, Ollie, and more's reactions will be out soon!

Prev ~ Beginning ~ Next

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Roy had, he realizes, half-expected this to happen. He must have suspected on some level that their trip up to Manchester to face off against City would see a repeat of last season’s illicit night-time outing, because when he catches sight of Jamie surreptitiously slinking away from the team movie night just as the film ends, he isn’t surprised.

Just rolls his eyes and huffs a fucking prick, before telling Nate that he’s going out and not to let any of those idiots cause any trouble.

He can feel Beard’s eyes following him as he follows Jamie, out of the impromptu movie hall and the hotel, and into the chilly evening.  

Roy lets Jamie amble on for a couple of streets. Let the little muppet think he got away with it; it’ll make his realisation to the contrary all the more satisfying. Then, as Jamie idles on the pavement while waiting for a lull in traffic, Roy sneaks up to him and grabs his shoulder.

”Oi! Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Jamie startles, which is pleasing. He doesn’t look particularly concerned at catching sight of his fearsomely scowling coach, however, which is less pleasing.

“Fucking hell, Roy,” he says, having the gall to sound mildly reproachful. “How’s giving your best player a heart attack the night before you take on the champions a good idea, eh?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Roy drawls. “Is it a worse idea than letting one of my players sneak off and break curfew the night before we take on the champions?”

Jamie snorts, unimpressed at his coach’s careful omission of the best. Shrugging out of Roy’s grip, he starts walking again. “Weren’t going to get into any trouble or nothing,” he says airily. “Just wanted to see me mum.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Not exactly a leap. (And if there’s a part of Roy that had been concerned that Jamie might slink away to see someone else, well… No need to bring that up. There’s been enough heated discussions on that topic between them ever since Roy learned of Jamie actually going up to see his fucking piece of shit father in rehab.)

For a few moments, they walk in silence, through the chill October air and the increasingly distant rush of Manchester traffic.

“Are you… okay?” Roy asks eventually. It comes out hesitant and it takes all of his willpower not to smash his own stupid face in for how silly he sounds. He’s getting better at this, he thinks – the emotional shit – but he’s still not good at it.

Jamie cuts him a surprised look. “Uh, yeah? Awesome. Why?” Then his face softens into understanding, his soft lips curling into a silent oh. “I’m good, Coach,” he says earnestly, pushing a strand of his carefully styled hair out of his eyes. “Swear down. Just wanted to say hi to mummy, yeah?”

Roy nods. He’d thought as much, but… he’d needed to make sure. “You could have just asked.”

Jamie gives him a sidelong glance. “Yeah, well, but. You’re not Ted. Might have said no.”

Roy’s eyes snap to Jamie’s face, narrowing in incredulity. “And if I had I told you, specifically, that no, Jamie, you may not fucking run off to see your mum the night before a game, then you wouldn’t have tried to slip away?”

“Yeah, man, ‘course.” Off Roy’s sceptical look, Jamie makes a face. “Come on, Coach. I do everything you tell me to, don’t I? Even when it’s stupid,” he adds, not quite under his breath.

And Roy doesn’t know what to say to that because… Jamie is right, isn’t he. He does everything Roy tells him to, and while that’s… good, obviously, hearing it stated so baldly leaves Roy feeling. Well. Something. Not bad, exactly, but slightly like he’s on a roller-coaster and suddenly he’s weightless and breathless and with that sucking sensation in his gut. Or like when he held Phoebe for the first time, awed and terrified of all that frail softness in his rough hands.

He clears his throat, pushing that weird feeling right back down into the dark recesses of his mind where it belongs. “Sneaking out of the fucking hotel when I told everyone to stay in and hit bed before eleven is a weird fucking way of doing what I tell you.”

“Yeah, but that was like, general,” Jamie says, waving away Roy’s fully legitimate argument like an errant fly. “It’s different, yeah?”

“It really fucking isn’t,” Roy snaps, even as there’s small, strange part of him that feels that Jamie – inexplicably – has a point.

Jamie grins at him, then, “And yet you haven’t hauled me back yet,” he notes, exaggeratedly looking around them to indicated the more and more run-down surroundings, and sure enough, if memory serves Roy right they’re already halfway back to the council estate where Jamie grew up.

Fucking hell.

But he’d suspected this, too, hadn’t he. Known that he wasn’t really going after Jamie just to read him the riot act and bring him back in.

“Half an hour,” Roy growls. “Then I am hauling you back to the hotel, and if I hear one complaint about it, I’m making you run the whole fucking way and then we’re doing burpees until you drop and I don’t care if you’re too stiff to play tomorrow.”

Like hell you don’t, Jamie’s laughing eyes tell him, but all he says is, “Yes, Coach. Mint.”

Roy gives a curt nod. Mint. Yeah. Maybe that’s what this is.

At least it could be hell of a lot worse.

At least until Jamie asks, much, much too innocently, “So, Coach, are you coming with me ‘cause you wanna keep an eye on me or because you wanna see me mum too?”

Roy is grateful that there’s no telling if his cheeks redden in the autumn dark, and that his voice is as gruff as ever when he growls, “All right, you are definitively running back to the hotel, Tartt.”

Jamie sighs. It’s a happy sound. “Yes, Coach.”

[casspurrjoybell-26]

The Contract - Chapter 36

*Warning: Adult Content*

- Evan -

The photographer lowers his camera and then smiles widely at me.

"I think we got it, thanks Evan," Christopher says, making the model next to me and I, move out of our positions.

"I should thank you," I laugh, accepting a shirt from one of Chris's team. "You managed to get this done under an hour."

Grinning, he waves me over to him.

"You're easy to photograph, you practically did all the work for me."

Coming over to him, I see the photos on the large monitor for a perfume ad with the famous model Caira Delaware next to me and I'll even admit, she's the easiest person to speak to and to model with.

"These are great Chris," Caira says, her clothes changed from the lingerie she was wearing, to a summer dress.

"We look smoking hot Evan," she says, touching my back. "I'm definitely framing one of these for my office, if it's okay with you Evan?" she asks and I shrug.

"Sure," I say as the sound of my phone ringing from the table interrupts me from saying more. Shit, I forgot to silence my phone. "I'm sorry, I thought I silenced it," I apologize.

Christopher and Caira wave me off.

"Rookie mistake, besides we're done, good work Evan," Christopher says as we shake hands.

I smile at Caira as she grins and walks off with someone she came with, I rush over to answer my phone.

Seeing who's calling, I hesitate to answer but I know the more I avoid these calls, the more she'll keep trying to ring me or worse, show up in front of me.

Answering, I sigh.

"Mom, I can't talk right now, I'm at work."

"Evan.. baby," she slurs, as I hear people in the background. "I miss you, baby, where are you?" she asks, barely forming a sentence.

I walk away so no one can hear our conversation as I head into one of the changing rooms where my stuff is, I don't want anyone hearing anything from what I'm most likely about to say.

"Are you drunk?" I hiss out into the phone as I glance at the clock on the wall. "It's ten AM and you're drunk, how could you be this stupid mom, after everything I've done to get you sober."

I start feeling like answering the call might've been a mistake, whenever she calls it's nothing good and now she's drunk, again.

After all, I've done... the money... everything and she's still doing the same shit she always done.

"I don't want you to call me anymore, I can't keep doing this mom."

Her hoarse laugh invades my ears as the sound of a glass smashing hits the floor from her side of the call.

"Oh come off it Evan, I'm celebrating."

Rubbing my temple, I sit down on the sofa.

"What are you celebrating?" I ask, despite wanting to hang up.

"Well, the girls of course," she said as if that meant something to me. "They said you were nice and even invited them to stay. But of course, you did. My baby is so kind," she added with a chuckle.

I have no idea what the hell she's talking about.

"I don't know what you're talking about mom, listen just stop drinking and get sober, until then..."

"What are you talking about, silly boy," she huffs out. "Lilly and May, Roy's girls, your new sisters."

Roy's what?

I now have absolutely no idea what she's talking about, I never met any of his daughters, I'm sure if I did I'd run in the opposite direction just from knowing and seeing Roy for a few minutes.

I don't want anything to do with him or his fucking family, nor my 'mom', not after the shit she's been hiding from me.

"I never met any of his daughters," I say dryly. "Is that all you called to say... after the hell I've been through, is that all you wanted to tell me?" I snap, my voice raising.

"Evan, don't use that tone..."

"I use whatever tone I want," I raise my voice, standing up and clenching my hair with my hand.

"My place was broken into, you and a few others only knew my address, mom," I tell her, my voice harsh. "His daughters were probably the ones who stole my shit. So do yourself a fucking favor and lose my number and don't call me again, unless you want to explain why the fuck you lied about dad's death to me."

I'm breathing heavily at the point and I want nothing more than to make her feel exactly how I feel but I'm done with her and her bullshit.

"You're supposed to be my mom and not act like a fucking teenager," I swallow hard, as she stays silent and listens. "You lied to me, used me for money, threw your life away and now you're trying to play me, again but for what? Does this make you happy mom?"

Tears fill my eyes as someone knocks on the door, calling my name, I rub the tears from my eyes and then rub my face, taking a deep sigh out, as I catch myself in the reflection of the mirror.

"Don't contact me again mom, I can't do this again, whatever shitty excuse you have I don't need to hear it anymore," I tell her. "We're done."

I hang up and then just as I was going to throw my phone against a wall, my phone buzzed with a text message and I stop myself completely when I see who it is. Donovan.

"Evan, you alright in there? Your ride just arrived," Chris says, behind the door.

Jesus, I look like a fucking mess when I see myself up close in the mirror, if I open the door now before calming down, there will be questions or a fucking pity party, either way, I'm not opening that door until I'm dressed.

"Y-Yeah, thanks Chris," I call out, getting myself changed quickly. "I'll be right out in a minute, just getting ready."

Chris yells out 'okay' and I hear him walk away as I get dressed, opening Donovan's text in the process as I slip my shoes on.

ᴅᴏɴᴏᴠᴀɴ: I'm downstairs waiting for you.

I blink- wait what? Confused, I text him back.

Evan: What do you mean? I'm on the other side of town for a photoshoot.

Donovan texts me back almost right away, just as I put my shoes on and put my arms in my jacket, making me laugh and blush once I read what he says.

ᴅᴏɴᴏᴠᴀɴ: I can't just come and see my boyfriend, the serious model and serious actor?

Evan: No, in fact, you should be at work playing CEO, not playing hooky.

ᴅᴏɴᴏᴠᴀɴ: I do what I want, perks of being the BOSS.

I laugh and he sends another message before I could reply, making a sinking feeling in my gut start to appear.

ᴅᴏɴᴏᴠᴀɴ: I need to take you somewhere, hurry down and I'll tell you everything.

The sinking feeling in my gut just worsened and now I definitely don't want to leave the room but the thought of seeing Donovan during the day brings a smile to my face and after the call with my mom, I don't want to be alone right now.

[scarletttries]

Roman Roy x Age-Gap! Reader Headcanons:

Pairing: Roman Roy (Succession) x Reader

Word Count: 2k (warning: mention of Logany child abuse)

Author’s Note: Oh Roman Roy, you're really making me fall in love with your sad little face and your slightly softening heart this season. Thank you for this request, please enjoy these thoughts about Roman Roy with a younger, but still very much legal adult, reader. Also please fill my inbox with Kendall and Roman requests because I am thinking about little else! 😊

Update! Part two here 😀

- Roman Roy has always felt simultaneously like he's never really grown up, and that he was never allowed to be a child. Growing up as the youngest son of Logan Roy he wasn't allowed the chance to make the silly mistakes of childhood folly. Logan had been through that before and frankly he needed Roman to be a serious adult from the moment he could comprehend his father's disapproving glare. Naturally this was an impossible ask of a small, sensitive boy, and led to blows to back of the head when tears threatened to stain the silk shirt he'd been so uncomfortably forced into for another endless press event where he stood like a prop, just desperate not to get in any more trouble or let his dad down worse than he already had.

- As Roman entered adulthood he began to be left out of all the rooms where serious people met and talked about things he could never quite get right; he's wasn't self-interested enough, he didn't have those killer instincts, he couldn't rid his head of the thoughts of how many people would be affected by the company's every move. As Logan and Kendall started to tire of his quippy comments, relegating him to waiting outside for busy work, he could feel himself struggling to meet the thresholds of adulthood that Ken seemed to have carried with him for as long as Roman could remember. This dichotomy of boy and man left Roman feeling like he was never quite comfortable with his age, unsure what lense to see that number through. And then he met you.

- Getting a job at Waystar may have left you feeling a little morally uncomfortable, but you reminded yourself that ten years experience there and you'd be able to get any job in any industry you like, while also being able to pay for your own place. So you pushed that feeling down each day as you entered that office full of rich old white men. Given you'd actually had to earn your place there, rather than just knowing someone, it wasn't long until your work ethic, intelligence and ingenuity had you climbing the corporate ladder in your department and getting you noticed by some of the much higher-ups. Naturally they tried to just take credit for your work, but when the day came that Logan actually asked for an explanation of a report you'd produced, Frank had no choice but to put you in a room with the big boss face-to-face.

- You'd heard nothing but bad things about Logan Roy and as he stared at you in pure contempt while you answered his questions, wondering why his time was being wasted with this young thing from the bullpen, it took all your resolve to hold your nerve, giving short answers and trying not to give him anything to hold over you. Every so often you'd let your eyes flick over his shoulder to the man standing behind him, ten years older than you but pulling at the sleeves of his shirt like a little kid as he watched you face the interrogation, outwardly seeming far more nervous about the situation than you did. After fifteen minutes of watching you hold your head high and speak so confidently about your work, Roman was staring at you unashamedly in a mix of awe, intrigue and disbelief. Despite the age gap you seemed to have all the facets of a self-assured adult that he felt he'd never quite unlocked, while exuding the joyful exuberance of youth he'd never been allowed. He needed to know more about you, so when Logan shouted at Gerri to 'throw you in a dress and bring to this week's investor mixers' he could feel his heart pounding in his chest at the sheer hope and possibility of the answers you might hold.

- You weren't thrilled to spend your evenings surrounded by colleagues, stood to attention in case anyone needed a question answering, but you didn't hate the full railing of designer evening wear that had been sent to your apartment for the occasion. You found yourself trying to blend into the shadows of a corner, unsure of your place in this room and this crowd, wondering if any of the food on display was actually for eating, or if that would be seen as a massive faux pas. Luckily Roman had been keeping an interested eye on you all evening; who you'd spoken to, what you'd been dressed in, the frankly adorable face you'd pulled when Frank handed you a Whiskey twice your age and you took a very unwilling sip, feigning appreciation before slinking away to stick your tongue out at the burning taste. And finally he built up the nerve to approach you now that you were alone, trying to approach casually by picking up a grape from the ornate platter beside you, only to take a bite, realise it was plastic and having to hand it mortified to a waiter that had watched the whole thing from your side. He could feel the blood burning in his cheeks as he watched you try and stifle a laugh, both mortified that you already knew he was a fool and pleased that he'd been able to bring a smile to your face this evening.

"Yeah yeah fuck you." He laughed as he stopped just in front of you, all the words he'd planned to share failing him now that he was close enough to see the beauty in your sincere smile as you shook your head,

"Really I should thank you, now I'm one step closer to figuring out what's actually edible here." You replied with a warmth that almost made Roman recoil, so used to the icy chill he usually received from those around him.

"Well certainly not that whiskey." He nodded to the short crystal glass you'd been trying to put down since Frank handed it to you, tone sarcastic but without the cutting edge he was usually one to deliver. "Why is that the one thing these old fucks actually like to be their own age?" As you laughed again Roman felt a little victorious, he had set himself a pretty low bar but he was confident he was going to be the highlight of your evening.

- As you spent the next week being dragged to different events, you'd always find Roman slinking to your side before the night was through, as if you'd always been old friends, just counting down the hours of everyone else's company. You'd counter his one-liners and then ask him where he'd rather be on a Friday night and make him realise he didn't really know any other kind of night. So when you'd list off your weekend plans, and hobbies and interests, and tell him stories about your friends that had his hyena laugh echoing across the otherwise solemn room, he'd start to realise just how much he was missing out on, and how much he wanted to explore that with you as his guide.

- It stopped being enough, just finding you on odd evenings. Roman would start finding your desk at Waystar, pretending to just be wandering through a junior office coincidentally. He'd glance at his wrist, ignoring the fact he'd forgotten to put on a watch this morning, and comment that as 'technically kind of your boss' he needed to make sure his best employees were actually taking a lunch break, and also were you hungry? Sometimes during the day he'd just melt onto the floor beside your desk, chatting about nothing as you tried your best to type and pay him the attention he so desperately craved. He'd start having all of his meetings in the rooms on your floor so he could wave at you as he walked past the huge glass windows keeping your team contained, an apt metaphor for the walls up inside him he was worried you'd never cross.

- Poor insecure Roman, he'd really try and force himself to ask you out, but ultimately he'd be so afraid of the potential backlash of rejection, that it would be up to you to finally ask if he wanted to grab a drink after work, one Friday when he'd been particularly clingy. You'd take him to a fun, casual bar and watch his eye's light up at people playing darts or ordering fried food and generally the nice, relaxed atmosphere where he didn't feel he had to be the smartest person in the room. Occasionally a friend of yours would walk in a wave and ask how you were doing, and you'd introduce Roman as your friend with no shame or regret and he'd say something funny and get the same rush of pride at making you laugh that he did the first time, and he'd feel like maybe the more time he spent getting to know you, the better he could see himself, still young at heart but not the kid he once was. His lost childhood and misspent youth given a second chance as you offered to see him again next weekend.

- Once you open the affectionate floodgates Roman would be the clingiest koala you can imagine. He'd rarely be as direct as holding your hand, especially not in public, conscious of looking just like his father with a younger woman on his arm. But in the privacy of your little apartment, the one Roman fell in love with the moment he saw it, he'd take a slightly threadbare throw and toss it over the both of you as he all but crumbled into your lap when he wanted to talk about something he thought would make you run. Opening up about his father's wrath and his warped view of himself, glancing up periodically to check you hadn't ran away and left him behind, finding softness in your eyes instead of disappointment and sinking even more deeply into you.

- Roman would think you are an absolute fucking genius for everything you've done for yourself. Worked hard to be the best at your job? Genius. Manage your own bills and do your own laundry? Genius. Carry a water bottle around and make him drink some when he has a headache and somehow he feels better than he has in years? Genius.

- Roman would follow you to hell and back, but you'll have to forcibly remove him from your apartment when you want to go outside. He's never been somewhere that actually felt like home, every soft furnishing and mismatched bowl making him want to haunt your halls forever. If you ever make him a home cooked meal, he'll act like it's not a big deal, but honestly he's crying inside that anyone would go through the effort for him, and that he was the person they chose to be around. Cut to him going thrifting with you to buy five new dishes for you to cook in next time, plus anything else you like.

- Occasionally you'll successfully get him outside for a hike, or a walk, or even a day at a museum or arcade; and Roman will go full toddler on you. Pointing at everything excitedly, running around and shrieking, making sure he was your undivided attention and dragging you by the hand to look at everything. By the time you're home you're ready to collapse, only to notice Roman surreptitiously placing a little souvenir somewhere on your shelf, sneakily bought from a gift shop while you were in the bathroom, before pretending he has no idea how it got there.

- Roman is so enraptured by the incredible, rounded human-being that you are, that eventually some of your self-belief would start to rub off on him, making him feel more sure of himself than he ever has before. Thinking less about the approval of others (except you, he still desperately wants that), feeling confident in his ideas, and no longer feeling like he's stuck in Peter Pan mode - despite falling for someone ten years his junior, Roman would finally feel like he was becoming the man he was always supposed to be, thanks to you.

Let me know if you want a part two of this!

[tartt9]

Jamie's head draws back in surprise and confusion when Roy swallows the key. "Is that really the most effective way of doing things?" he asks. His tone harkens back to Amsterdam, to teaching Roy to ride a bike. How's that gonna help anyone? Ridiculous fucking old man. Jamie loves him. "Coffee. She likes coffee," he agrees. The same day, the same memory, Keeley pouring coffee from both of the cups they'd brought her into one. There's symbolism there, but Jamie's not quite smart enough to see it. He sees the amusement on Roy's lips, barely a smile, there and then gone, but it's enough to send butterflies through him anyways as the coffee begins to drip. The smell of it is amazing, enough to wake Jamie up into a semi-normal 4 AM state.

"Do I look like I've got baking bowls?" he asks, suddenly realising that that would be why Roy was asking him about his bowls. "I mean, I'm flattered that y'think I know how t'bake anything, especially considering y'know my cooking skills, but. No, I don't have fucking baking bowls." If he thinks back to his childhood, blurry as his memories may be, Jamie knows there's solutions to his lack of proper equipment. "Definitely don't have a sieve, whatever that is. But y'can use, like, a pot, 'cause that's just a big bowl. And a fork for a whisk. Can't you?" He'll buy baking bowls after training. Can't let Roy come here searching for anything that he lacks again. He wants this birthday cake to come out good. He wants to make Keeley happy, wants to see her smile, wants to hear that silly little squeaking noise she makes when she's pleasantly surprised. And, yes, fine, he wants Roy to be proud of him, too. He pours one mug of coffee, offering the plain black mug out to Roy. Black mug, black coffee, man who exclusively wears black, black curls, black beard, black chest hair... he's so emotionally fucked.

ROY CATCHES THE KEY IN HIS TEETH,            and swallows it. obviously, that is the more effective way of disposing the imaginary key. if he dodges it à la tartt, it'll be picked back up. despite this, he responds in turn, roy can only shake his head ( a flicker of inward amusement plays on his lips ).   "oh. coffee. for keeley. we'll buy it on the way."   that's one more gift, straight from roy's brain... he's useless. the lock-and-key memory triggers the same thought in his brain: pyjamas and coffee. perhaps he should switch up the recipe, make scones. harking back to when tartt was still insufferable is unusual, roy never thought he would end up willingly in this situation. he's less insufferable these days. a lot less so. sometimes. his expression falls as quick as it changed.

"i mean, fucking, baking bowls. whisk. spatula. siv."   he turns to look at jamie, suddenly alarmed. he knew he wasn't going to have baking ingredients lying around, no room for cake in his meal plan, but who doesn't have basic baking equipment? it's not like he's lacking the money for it. roy turns, starts opening cupboards,   "do you want me to bake a cake in a fucking soup bowl?"

[dhmis-autism]

Also I want to show you my favourite parts of the interview because of my mental illness

Red guy I love you please know this. Duck you are so silly come here let me hug you

So Base Jumping is basically sky diving but off of tall buildings. Zorbing is going into a big clear inflatable ball and rolling down a hill. And he also likes killing whales. Good to know

And Duck WEAVES!

Red likes smash mouth because of course he does. Why wouldn’t he? And Duck likes Douglas the silly train.

Awww yellow my poor little guy! I want to hug him, no matter how scared he may be.

And lastly. Red.. are you ok? Do you need help?

And I will fight Roy. Please let me fight him. How dare you hurt my son. My little guy. I bet he is ableist.

OKAY THIS IS SO FUNNY AND ALSO THIS ASK MADE ME THINK SO HARD ABOUT THESE ANSWERS THAT I DREW A LOT SKDHJKSHJ

First one, the idea that Yellow has brown hair means that shit definitely gets dyed and theres no way he's doing that himself. Anyways, got carried away with that one.

Also oh my god the concept of Red having that many insane hobbies is really fucking funny. I like to think that he is not. good. at any of them. He's a very sedentary guy a very sit all day at home type of guy.

ALSO WHAT THE FUCK IS DUCK WEAVING? I WAS LOOKING IT UP AND WEAVING LOOMS ARE HUGE. WHAT ARE YOU MAKING LITTLE FREAK

Anyways also oh my god the contrast between the fucking answers to the dream question? That shit is so funny. That is so hilarious I had to draw it.

Anyways and lastly, thanks for sending me this! :D I liked readin thru and drawing the ones I thought was funny, but I will be thinking about all the answers here and putting that shit on my conspiracy theory boards/character analysis google docs/ect.