#because he's still hung up about the Tim problem
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I'm obsessive over my Constantine Jr Au (which still needs a fic name for, I'm open to suggestions) because
this is a cranky danny. he's spent years fighting with no end in sight, with parents who he can't trust and his only companions never truly understanding what he's going through.
he vapes CBD for the pain he's constantly in. he drank alco/hol once to help him sleep, but his parents smelt it on his breath and, just like with their research, took that to believe EVERYTHING they'd ever suspected about danny to be true: that he drinks, he does dru/gs, he's in a gang. the only thing they've never suspected their son of--being a ghost--is the one thing he actually does.
then, right on the cusp of eighteen and freedom, he gets outed. AND transformed into a seven-year-old.
this is not a danny who is willing to play at being a child. and if anyone tries to, they're in for a foul time.
Danny was 17, transformed into a 7 year old and hides in Bludhaven, and is 8 when the police finally figure out that, hey, this weird kid who keeps altering us to crime scenes is usually right on the money about who the killer is, we should investigate that. Officer Grayson is on the case!
And discovers that he absolutely can't STAND this kid.
He thought he liked kids! Everyone thought he liked kids! but this kid...
This isn't called the Constantine Jr AU because Danny is a supernatural detective, or because Danny might be Constantine's kid. Its because Danny is an unrepentant little bas/tard and he makes it everyone's problem.
Danny vapes and blows bubblegum smoke in Grayson's face.
He takes out a flask and Grayson's grabs it, learning its full of orange juice. Danny then takes out a second flask, this one with vod/ka.
He wears a trenchcoat he found in the trash (the same trenchcoat Nightwing wears in DC vs Vampires, if you know you know) but the end and the sleeves are cut off for his hands and legs. the pockets are roughly around his knees.
Grayson is desperate to figure out more about this kid, but he doesn't go to batman because, time-line wise, this is right before red hood starts running around. Jason is dead/alive-in-hiding, Tim is Robin, and Dick is mad about it. (ages-- Bruce: ? Nightwing: 24 Jason: 19 Tim: 15 Danny: 8 Damien: 7-8)
he doesn't really bond with the kid until they're both kidnapped by a gang for hostages, and Danny's big kid emotions get a hold of him (he thought he could escape them bc he's an adult, he's gone through worse, but nope! child brain chemistry). Grayson is worried that he's hurt and in pain, but Danny confesses that he's always in pain. he has nerve damage all over his body, and the only thing he really trusts is CBD. He feels like shit for taking his juul away, but more importantly, because he's been treating Danny like a irritant and just a little kid.
they get rescued and Grayson tries to take him back to his home, but Danny reveals he's homeless, saying something like "I sleep where it suits me, just drop me off whereever."
Absolutely not, Grayson is taking kid back to his place for a bed, food, and a shower, in whatever order the kid wants.
Danny stays semi-perminantly at his apartment, but Nightwing tries not to push it, because this kid practically screams flight risk. unfortunately, the paparazzi have nothing better to do and snap a pick of Grayson and Danny getting dinner together, speculating that Dick's taken after Bruce
Danny doesn't care too much; I think his ghost form is the same, if glitchy, so his parents don't know about the deaging. Grayson is mildly panicking, but its not like he HASN'T been considering adopting the evil troglodyte. Even Bruce, Tim, and Alfred aren't the problem.
No, the problem is the Red Hood, a crime boss who just cut 8 people's heads off, seeing what looks like Nightwing pulling an innocent kid into the neverending fight against crime and Seeing Green.
Edit: Had to censor sh!t because ths wasn't showing up in the tags
#constantine jr au#dp x dc#dc x dp prompt#deaged danny fenton#c: danny fenton#c: dick grayson#c: jason todd#dp crossover#dc crossover#i love the idea of nightwing just HATING danny before getting to know him#because he's still hung up about the Tim problem#but also because danny is just a little sh!t#I really want Jazz to be involved in this story somehow#as nightwing's eventual love interest#but the main point of this story is for dick to break past danny defenses to give him a loving parent again#damien's going to HATE danny in the future#bc danny's smart and grayson HIS batman adopted him and takes him out on cases as civilians#damien clearly is going to try to compete with danny for nightwing's attention and love#despite it not being necessary
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Another excerpt from the one where Tim is trans and Kon is not the father, plus a read-more for length.
“Bart’s really back too?” Tim asks, his voice not quite cracking.
“Back and also . . . okay, not the right age, but the age he was the last time I saw him,” Kon says. “Which apparently he was not for you guys for a while, what the fuck.”
“Long story,” Tim says, smiling helplessly.
“Yeah, I know, it took Bart a whole thirty seconds to explain it to me,” Kon says wryly.
“Have you seen . . . Cassie, yet?” Tim asks hesitantly, because he’s a fucking glutton for punishment, apparently. Because otherwise he’s just ignoring the elephant he coaxed into the room himself.
“No,” Kon says, shaking his head. “Bart went to go drop in on the Titans, but Clark brought me straight here. He figured I’d wanna see you and Kyra first. We had a very confusing thirty-first century conversation while he was trying to ease me into the ‘everyone knows you’re gay for your best friend’ thing and gently break the news about me being a dad, and then Bart just started talking his ear off demanding baby updates. It was, uh, interesting. I guess he died before she was born, but Clark didn’t realize he’d known you were pregnant?”
“Yeah,” Tim says, trying not to wince. “I mean–I didn’t know what to do at first, so I just took medical leave from the Titans for an ‘injury’, but I told Bart and Cassie, and then . . . well, then Bart died before I told the Kents. It was only a couple months or so–I didn’t want to make them feel worse, in case anything went wrong–but . . .”
But that’s how it is, in their line of work. A couple months or so is more than enough time for another one of your best friends to die.
“Please tell me you weren’t patrolling Gotham knocked up,” Kon says with a grimace.
“. . . technically, yes, but not after I realized I was knocked up,” Tim says, smiling weakly. “Not for . . . more than a week or two, anyway.”
Kon groans, dragging a hand back over his scalp. He looks pained. Tim pretends it’s because Kon thinks he’s an obsessed workaholic, and not because Kon knows him well enough to know how messed up he’d been to actually do that.
“I was in the middle of a case,” he says like it’s any kind of a defense. “And it was investigative work, not . . . I called Dick in to handle the violent parts, okay?”
“Small favors,” Kon says, then glances towards Kyra’s crib. “So you’re . . . retired? You hung up the cape?”
“I’m not Robin anymore,” Tim says. “And I’m not patrolling or running missions. But I can’t–if he ever finds out, if he ever finds her, I can’t be retired. I need to be–ready.”
Kon’s jaw tightens. Tim wishes he’d never had to say that. Wishes the lie had been true. Wishes–
Wishes a lot of things, some for Kon’s sake but most for Kyra’s.
And one or two for his own.
“What’s the new codename, then?” Kon asks, still looking at the crib. Tim’s grateful that he’s not . . . Tim’s just grateful. Grateful that this is Kon, and he’s alive, and he’s here, and . . . and that he’s going to let him lie.
He’s so fucking grateful for that.
“I haven’t exactly bothered rebranding,” he says with forced levity. “I’m not going out with anyone else and I don’t need a rep. I’m not a vigilante anymore. I just need to be able to handle any problems that might come up.”
“You know how Jimmy Olsen has a watch with a distress signal custom-tuned for Clark’s superhearing?” Kon says, glancing back at him with a slightly disgruntled expression on his face. “I’m getting you one. I’m getting you five. And think up a name, man. Get yourself a color scheme and a bunch of weirdly-themed gadgets going. There’s a lot of other birds in the world.”
Kon does have opinions about names, Tim supposes. For obvious reasons.
That was why naming Kyra after him was the only thing he could’ve done, but also a terrible thing for him to have done.
He really couldn’t have done anything else, though. He’d had to name her what he would’ve named her, if Kon had really been . . . if she’d really been . . .
He’d had to.
That’s the best way to lie, after all: use the truth.
“Okay,” Tim says. He might’ve been annoyed by the watch idea when they were younger. Felt like Kon didn’t think he could handle himself or was overestimating himself. He’s not annoyed now. Now it’s just one more contingency plan.
He’d do anything for Kyra. Wearing a panic button that Kon would recognize the frequency of is the least of what he’d do for her.
“Clark’ll help me get something around,” Kon says. “If, uh–especially if he thinks we’re, you know . . . together.”
“I could make it,” Tim points out. “You don’t need to bother him with it.”
“Clark knows the best frequencies to use. Plus then we can make sure it’s not gonna sound too much like Jimmy’s too,” Kon says, then flashes him a grin. “Besides, it’s more romantic if I’m the one giving it to you, right?”
“Fuck you,” Tim snorts, rolling his eyes as he shoves him, and Kon laughs and goes with it. Tim doesn’t know how to tell him he’s the best friend he’s ever had; the best friend he ever could have. He doesn’t know how to apologize enough for this. He doesn’t . . .
Kyra makes a squeaky crooning sound from her crib, and Kon blinks, and–
Oh, Tim thinks, watching Kon’s pupils visibly dilate into pinpricks. Right. He . . . forgot.
“What the fuck?” Kon says.
“Some of her vocalizations are . . . like that,” Tim says carefully as Kon stares fixatedly at Kyra’s crib. She squeaks again. “Um–Clark reacted a little weirdly to some of them too, he said they were–”
Kyra starts her usual melodic babbling, and Kon makes a low rumbling noise in response. Tim–blinks. Kon looks startled too, putting a hand to his chest.
“Uh,” he says. “That was . . .”
Kyra starts babbling louder, squealing for attention, and Tim rolls to his feet and heads over to her. She’s already reaching up before he gets to her, and squeaking excitedly for attention. She sounds like a little baby dolphin or something. Clark said there were resonances and undertones to her voice that human ears couldn’t pick up on, too.
But of course Kon’s not human, is he.
“Can I . . . hold her?” Kon asks awkwardly, stepping up beside Tim as he plucks Kyra up and staring intently at her. She dolphin-squeaks again. He bites his lip, clearly holding back whatever sound he wants to make in response; clearly holding back from reaching out for her.
“Let me change her first,” Tim says. Her diaper’s definitely wet, and he doesn’t want her to get uncomfortable.
“Can you show me how?” Kon asks, still looking a little awkward. “I haven’t been around too many babies, and I kinda just had to, like . . . improvise, the last time I was taking care of one.”
“Uh–sure?” Tim blinks at him in confusion. “Why do you care, though?”
“Dude, I’m not gonna be the kind of asshole co-parent who makes the one who got pregnant do all the diaper changes,” Kon says, looking dubious. “You should show me how to feed her, too. She’s on formula, right? It smells kinda like formula in here. And the kitchen did too.”
“. . . um, okay,” Tim says, and almost bursts into tears on him again. Of course Kon would be like this, the bastard. “She–is, yeah. Clark synthesizes a mix for her in the Fortress. The AI says it’s better for her system than the store-bought stuff, and I had trouble producing enough milk to keep up with her appetite. Plus I kind of needed to get back on my meds as soon as I could anyway, so . . . I mean, they’re supposed to be safe, but I didn’t want to risk it with her physiology.”
“Good, then I can help feed her,” Kon says. Tim blinks at him again, then just . . . takes Kyra to the changing table. She squeaks louder, clearly offended, and tries to reach for Kon. He trails after them, looking fascinated by her.
Well . . . Kon’s never seen a Kryptonian baby before, much less heard one, so . . . of course he would be, Tim thinks. Kyra’s only a quarter-Kryptonian, obviously, but genetically . . . genetically, she might as well be half-Kon, and . . .
And he’s never seen a Kryptonian baby.
So it makes sense that he’d react strongly, yes. It’d make sense that he’d be a little bit fascinated. Clark had reacted to her too. He’d looked just as startled as Kon had, the first time he’d heard her chirp and squeak for attention, and then just as fascinated.
Tim still wonders if Kyra’s the first time Clark’s ever fully felt any of the kind of instincts people normally feel, seeing a baby. Like–genetically speaking, he means. Instinctually. She’s seen more of him than Kon ever did, so . . . well, that might just be because they’ve been staying with the Kents, but Martha had mentioned how nice it was to have Clark around so often a few weeks ago, so . . .
Well. Tim has some suspicions, that’s all.
He wonders, very briefly–he wonders if he would respond to her like Kon and Clark do, if he ever–if he found out about–
He crushes that thought down into gravel and grinds it into his mental pavement. He doesn’t think about it again. Not at all.
(Would it be worse if he did or didn’t, though? If he saw her, and was FASCINATED–
Tim stops thinking about it.)
He changes Kyra’s diaper, taking his time a bit so Kon can better observe the process, and Kyra fusses and chirps and screeches through it. Kon stays in a little bit inconveniently close, but Tim doesn’t say anything about it. Kon can do a lot more than just be a little bit inconvenient, after telling him he’d let him lie about this. He’ll deal with having to work around him.
Kyra screeches louder. Kon makes a thrumming noise low in his throat, and she stops mid-screech and stares up at him intently. Her eyes are a human shade of blue–she got Tim’s eyes and hair, thank fuck, considering there’s no way he ever could’ve sold the alternative as being inherited from Kon–but Clark said there were . . . fractals, he’d described them as. He’d tried to explain, and then tried to draw the pattern, but it’s nothing Tim can see in her eyes for himself.
But it’s a Kryptonian trait, apparently, so he is very, very grateful he’d chosen the lie he had. Even if the squeaking and chirping hadn’t clued Clark in, if he’d ever met her . . .
Tim is very, very grateful he chose the lie he had.
And even more grateful that Kon is willing to help him keep it.
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I hc Damian sees dick as more of a father then Bruce, my reasoning is that when Bruce was dead, dick was there for him and Damian already mourned that father and accepted dick as his dad.
and since in my brain Bruce causes most of the issues between the brothers, in a au where Bruce wasn’t rescued all the bats are happy and friendly to each other, dick is the older brother who’s basically their dad, Jason who’s very caring yet also insists he’s not (he has anger issues as well), Tim who can’t seem to fully grasp how much everyone cares for him but it’s getting better, and Damian who actually acts his age and not like a 20 year old man with murder problems (he still has murder issues but dicks made him realize that’s wrong)
There was probably quite a bit of an adjustment period in the beginning. When siblings are faced with a change in dynamics so that they need to rely upon each other instead of being pitted against one another, there tend to be big blowups and fights until they get the hang of things.
In this AU, it would be a bit hard to wrangle all the batkids into getting along. Does Tim never find that portrait that starts his search? Did Bruce actually die? Does Alfred find the portrait first and burn it so his family can finally be free (very ooc, but a cool concept)?
Tim finding out Bruce is alive is like a match near gasoline for him. He destroys all of his current relationships (justified or not) to save his dad.
There's also the grief aspect. The Battle of the Cowl could be seen as just the kids trying to find footing with the changes and the grief of loosing their dad.
It doesn't matter how much of a bastard Bruce is in this AU, the kids will still grieve his loss. If he was just unredeemable, they wouldn't have hung on so much. It doesn't matter how much Bruce hits them, verbally abuses them, manipulates, or abandons them when he turns around and acts like a good dad. He has good moments. That's the confusing and complicated aspect of it.
Bruce is the type of man to remember a fact his kids mentioned once off-handedly and distracted. He'd remember when they mentioned a childhood toy they loved but could never find again. He would spend months tracking down that company and hiring them to make they toy again if they didn't have any on hand. There's so much time, effort, and money he would put into such a notion, and he wouldn't make a big deal about it. The kid would probably just find it in their room one day and know it was Bruce.
Then he would turn around and try to convince the kid that all of their friends are out to get them and they can't trust anyone.
This AU would be hard to manage because only Dick is at the stage where he would be willing to give up on his dad. With the fallout of Robin, Dick moved on from unconditional love and belief in Bruce. He went to anger and hurt. He slowly healed those pains, but they were changed. Dick couldn't go back to how they were, but ultimately still loved his dad. Jason's death shattered their relationship. Even after Tim interfered, Dick would never be able to forgive Bruce for that. In the comics, he confronted Bruce about not being told about Jason's death. Bruce's response? He screamed at Dick, hit him, told him he shoulf have never had a partner, told Dick that he would've fired Jason in a few years like he did Dick, and then told Dick to hand his keys to the Manor to Alfred on his way out.
Bruce and Dick can go to therapy for years to work on their relationship, but Dick will never trust Bruce with his siblings again. He can trust the man on a battlefield, but he can't trust him at home.
Dick's love to Bruce, I hc, would turn to apathy, longing, and bitterness intermingled with spurts of reluctant fondness.
Jason, on the other hand, is pissed at Bruce, but he has too much passion to just let him go. It's a transition stage from love to anger to indifference. Through his reactions and actions during the Battle of the Cowl, it's obvious he still cares about Bruce somewhat. The opposite of love isn't hate. It's indifference. If he didn't somewhat care about Bruce, his death wouldn't impact him so much. I personally feel that the incident with Penguin and Gotham Wars is where Jason starts to become indifferent instead. To hate Bruce is to want to change him. It's to want him to be better because you know he can be. To be indifferent to him (outside of horrible actions the man commits) is to know he won't change. It's to give up on him.
Jason still remembers getting ice cream on patrol, sharing popcorn on the couch, reassuring promises of protection, and the laughter he could startle out of his dad. His anger and aggression against Bruce is because he believes that his dad could kill the Joker. He had believed that Bruce would have. Regardless on whether it was the right thing to do or whether a younger version would have wanted that, Jason had faith in Bruce. He ultimately considers his father to be a good guy. Perhaps someone that hurts Jason, but still a good guy.
Dick doesn't regard his father as such. He knows better.
The other kids are still at the love stage, where they rely on Batman and Bruce to be decent and a hero.
Tim may have complicated feelings about Bruce being his dad (how credible that is especially given their history), but he trusts Bruce to make the right decisions. That gospel has been shaken a few times, but it still holds.
Damian is still a child. Capable, kind, fierce, and strong, but still a child.
Cass was given the mission of the Bat by Bruce. He has shown her love and kindness others have not. She can see what he feels and intends to do even as he hurts others. He does not kill.
Barbara has Dick's back before she has Bruce's. Barbara is independent. She does not have the confidence in Bruce that the others do.
I hope Duke is enjoying his time with his parents free from bat drama.
Anyways, I do think the Bats would be better off if Tim hadn't found proof of Bruce's continued existence (it is not his fault that Bruce returned to do horrible shit. He is not to blame). Without it, there might not have been as big of a fallout between Tim and everyone else. There would have been lots of drama and fights between the remaining Bats, but they would eventually settle into a healthier unit.
If anyone wants more about any of this, feel free to send me another ask with what parts you'd like elaborated.
#dc comics#dc universe#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#bruce wayne#batfam#thank you for the ask!!!!
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Okay so I’m well aware that this is probably my own fault, but a lot of people seem to have gotten the idea that Bruce is in any way important to this story
This is not a story about Batman
This is a story about the many and varied disaster gays he has trained to commit bigger and more epic disasters than any other gay in history
So let’s fix it and get back to the second most important thing in the story! Timker (and bonus Connor)
——————
Field Trips Without Permission Slips part 1
Tucker was still firmly in his happy bubble, floating along after Tim Drake-Wayne even as they left the Bat Cave.
Connor, Kon, Superboy, he’d be there soon. Tucker wanted to make a good impression; this was Tim’s boyfriend, Tucker really wanted the guy to like him.
That way they could all be friends, and he wouldn’t worry if Tucker and Tim hung out, and talked tech, and maybe got to have a hackathon…
Because of course, even notorious ladies’ man Too Fine Foley would never make a move on a taken man. That’d just be low.
He was just trying to work out what to say when Tim got a buzz on his phone. The excitement dropped off the younger man’s face in an instant, his expression immediately shifting to worry and determination.
“Something’s come up,” he said tersely, and Tucker frowned, wondering if he was about to hear about a second rogue attack in almost as many days.
Gotham… Gotham was kinda exhausting. No offence, obviously, even he could feel the Curse lingering on the back of his tongue.
But trying to keep this city safe was like bailing a sinking boat with a sieve. No wonder they needed the best of the best.
“How can I help?” Was all he offered, trying to make himself look ready and eager.
Tim’s eyes widened as he looked up, like he was only just remembering that Tucker was actually even there at all. That yeah, he definitely could help.
Actually, it turned out he was their subject matter expert when Tim explained the problem.
“Superman just told B he can’t hear Jason’s heart anymore. I don’t suppose there’s a reason you’d know of?” He asked hopefully, and Tucker’s jaw clicked shut.
Because… yeah, he could guess exactly why Jason was now out of range of super hearing. But the bats weren’t cleared to know about Jason’s halfa nature yet, and Tucker was pretty sure Jason couldn’t transform.
It’d be a wild time for him to give it a first try if Superman was listening in. He’d have to warn Danny and Jason, though that might have to wait if they’d… gone… to the Ghost Zone.
And yeah, okay, Tucker maybe shoulda thought of that first, but in his defence Danny died on a regular basis and occasionally just to show off.
Shoulders sagging as he relaxed, Tucker blew out a long breath and grinned at Tim, relief making him lax. And yeah, sure, he didn’t know why they’d gone, but he could bullshit something if they asked.
“Oh, yeah actually… they’re probably in the Ghost Zone,” he explained with a slight shrug, because really? It wasn’t a big deal.
Some of the tension leached out of Tim’s shoulders with the presence of an immediate answer.
“The Ghost Zone? That’s the Infinite Realms, right?” Tim asked and Tucker nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets.
It was always nice to be the guy with all the answers, but having all the answers for someone like Tim Drake-Wayne? Yeah, that felt extra good.
“Yeah, same place. It’s mostly only the Ancients that call it the Infinite Realms, and Danny and Jason probably won’t bother them.”
Not unless Clockwork chose to make another visit, but that would be an Ancient going to bother Danny and Jason.
Tim nodded thoughtfully, making some quick notes on his phone.
“Any idea why, or how long they’ll be? Bruce has probably convinced himself Jason’s dead again by now,” he added dryly, sounding neither impressed nor concerned.
Well, maybe a little concerned. Tucker had kinda gotten the stage door tickets to Batman’s opinion of Danny.
Tucker shrugged again, thinking back quickly over what Jason had told him he’d told his family. He was gonna make himself a cheatsheet if (hope of hopes) hanging out with Tim became a regular thing.
Frostbite? Yeah, they probably mentioned Frostbite. No need to mention he was an Ancient, the yeti certainly never brought it up.
“They’re probably going to see Danny’s doctor. Check Jason’s ecto contamination, see how Danny’s doing away from his haunt; that’s Amity Park,” he added as Tim’s brows furrowed momentarily. “Technically halfas don’t need need one, but Danny claimed it so we dunno what leaving will do to him.”
Which made it sound way more dramatic than it actually was; even full ghosts could leave their haunt if they wanted to. Not all of them even kept haunts in the Zone.
They’d asked last year, before Danny finally took the plunge (and yeah maybe coming out of puberty was why he’d waited a couple extra years - not that he’d gotten the promised Fenton Growth Spurt).
Frostbite had just asked if they even knew where Ember’s haunt was.
News to Tucker and the gang that she’d even had one, with how much she wanted to go on tour.
Danny’s haunt would always be his place of power, but with the power Danny wielded? He never needed it anymore. Tucker was pretty sure that when he actually became king the whole Ghost Zone was gonna be Danny’s haunt.
Not cuz anyone had explicitly said so. Just interpreting a lot of the flowery bullshit around Pariah. And no one had told him no yet either.
Tim just nodded, typing a moment more before sending off a quick reply to Bruce.
He did feel a little bad tattling on Danny and Jason like that. If they’d wanted anyone to know where they were going, they coulda just said.
But they also probably hadn’t known Superman would be listening, or notice Jason’s heart disappearing. Really Tucker was doing everyone a favour; making sure no one came back to Batman in a panic attack.
He just hoped Jason would see it the same way.
And then the single hottest person Tucker had ever seen in his entire life popped his head around the door, perfectly windswept black curls pushed back with one hand.
A smile of perfectly white, perfectly even teeth flashed as gorgeous blue eyes like the heart of the ocean landed on him and Tim.
On Tim.
Tim was smiling back even before the other entered the room.
Tim’s boyfriend.
Tucker raised Ida to cover his face without even thinking, cheeks burning and really really really hoping neither white boy knew enough about dark skin to tell.
Tim’s brother Duke was Black too.
Tucker was going to fucking die.
He could not go weak kneed at just the sight of Tim’s boyfriend!
He was only vaguely aware when the walking Adonis spoke, striding quickly into the room.
“Hey, any reason I should be worried that Jason and Danny just disappeared from Gotham’s airspace?”
Ancients even his voice was perfect, rich and smooth like dark chocolate, with just a little bass that made Tucker’s heart flutter. If that voice said his name Tucker was going to fucking die.
Tucker strangled most of the whimper in his throat because he was a fucking adult goddamn it. Jumped and almost smacked himself in the face when Tim called his name from right next to him.
Loudly.
Like he’d said it a couple times already.
And the World’s Hottest Man was looking at him too, the absolute cutest worried little frown marring his perfect brows, and oh ancients just the littlest pout on soft, full lips…
Yeah, no, someone get the headstone, Tucker would just bury himself out back.
———————
Note: I’m genuinely still turning over which name our dear Superboy Prime is going by as his regular name, since it’s… about 1000% going to depend on his relationship with Clark
I cannot fucking imagine anyone but Clark gave Kon El his Kryptonian name. Just. No fucking way. (Kara could but then we’re back to Too Many Characters and tbh she has more tact than that)
So their relationship has to be good enough that Clark offered this very personal piece of himself, and Connor’s accepted it
But Connor is the name his first friends gave him
And his civilian name, so it’s not like he can whole hog the switch
Atm the Bats call him Kon in uniform as the world’s shittiest cover but we’re getting his POV next chapter and I need to know what he calls himself, so… poll!
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For anyone wondering, the reason the tag list looks like it’s having seizures is my phone has decided that letting me scroll around is far too convenient and it’s just going to randomly jump around if I try and move the cursor
You cannot tag a bitch on tumblr mobile without scrolling to the end of their name and selecting them on the search
If you are not at the end it will autocomplete what’s left and thus *gestures vaguely* happy WIP Wednesday
#dp x dc#danny fenton dead and loving it#wip wednesday#chapter 16#ghost zone ghost zone ghost zone#danny phantom#Dead on main ship#danny x jason#tucker quick be less gay you’re drooling on ida#Ever see someone so hot your brain just short circuits#Tucker did#Tim gets it tho
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Barbara worrying over Tim overworking himself:
She’s right but Tim will never admit that he’s about to burn out so he tells her to check on someone else instead. And she checks on Jason:
She shows her concern by suggesting to send him a support time but he rudely hangs up on her.
I love how Babs truly cares for those two Robin/ex Robin boys! If everyone listened more to her, the would face less problems in their missions. It’s interesting how she approaches the subject with each boy. She’s more direct when she speaks to Tim and more subtle when she speaks to Jason. To be fair to her, their reactions prove her right because Tim will still listen to her opinion even when he disagrees with her telling him to take a break. Meanwhile, when Jason suspects that she’s trying to give him an advice he simply hungs up.
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for the first time (whats past is past)
✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Lucy Chen & Tim Bradford
✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Tim calls Lucy in the middle of the night, hoping to every god that exists that her number hadn’t changed, and to every angel that she would pick up despite how he had hurt her.
✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: canon divergence, angst with a happy ending obviously, Chenford. tagging @natashasera. Title is from Begin Again by my mothaaaaa
don’t forget to read and reblog, and i do not give permission for my works to be posted anywhere other than tumblr. thank you.
“Please pick up,” Tim whispered to himself. He sniffed, trying blink back the tears that were gathering in his eyes. He knew he was stupid for doing this, for calling her; if he were her, he wouldn’t pick up the phone, especially after he had done what he did. She had needed him, and he had left her, and he wouldn’t blame her for doing the same to him.
But, whatever gods that he had prayed to before hitting her contact must have heard his prayers, because just as he was about to give up, the ringing stopped, and he heard static for a brief second, before hearing a sound he thought he’d never hear again - Lucy saying his name in her beautiful, melodic voice.
“Tim?” She said quietly, and Tim choked back a sob.
“H-Hi,” he whispered. There was rustling on the other end for a brief moment before Lucy responded.
“What happened?” She asked, her previously neutral tone shifting to concerned.
Tim chuckled quietly. “Why do you assume that something happened?”
“Because you wouldn’t be calling me in the middle of the night if it hadn’t.”
Tim hung his head, sighing. “Y-You’re right.” He suddenly regretted calling her, he didn’t want her to think he’d only called her because he needed something, because that was far from the truth. He did need something, but she was the only one he wanted to call. Everyone else would look at him with pity - which he understood, because how sad is it that him, a nearly 40 year old man was broken up with and humiliated at a party? But still, he knew that if he had called Angela or Genny, they would have pitied him, but Lucy wouldn’t do that. She would feel bad for him, but he knew that she knew (better than anyone) that these things happened, and it was important to move on and not be stuck in the past. “I uhm..” He began, but stopped, unsure how to explain it without sounding like he was in high school.
“Tim?” Lucy asked again, and this time, Tim cleared his throat before speaking.
“I uh - I was at a party, with my girlfriend, and we got into a fight. It was stupid, but it caused her to freak out, and basically start bashing me in front of all of her friends.” He explained.
“Im so sorry Tim,” Lucy said. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘bashing’ you?” She asked, and Tim chuckled sadly.
“Well,” he began. “She thought it was appropriate to bring up everything from my past, more specifically the things I had told her in confidence, like what happened with Isabel and my dad, and things I was ashamed about, like how I treated you.” He confessed.
Lucy sighed on the other end, and the rustling could be heard again. “Tim, I’m so sorry that happened to you, you didn’t deserve that.”
Tim shrugged, even though he knew she couldn’t see it. “Kinda feels like I did, but right now I just want to get away from her and her friends, but I’m stranded. You were the only person I could think of to call who wouldn’t pity me.”
Lucy laughed quietly. “Of course im not going to pity you, I learned my lesson with that when I was your rookie.” Tim laughed in response. “Send me the address, and I’ll come and get you.”
Tim sighed in relief. “Thank you.” He said, and sent her a text with the location of the party.
“Okay,” Lucy said, looking at the address. “It’ll take me about 20 minutes to get to you, but I’m leaving pretty much right now,” she said. “I’ll see you when I get there, okay?”
“Yeah.” Tim replied. “Thank you again.”
“It’s no problem, Tim. I’m glad you called me.”
——
27 minutes later, Tim saw Lucy’s Gray Acura RDX pull into the driveway, and he was finally able to move off of the rock he had been sitting on. He walked over to her car, and opened the passenger door, sliding into the seat, and shut the door behind him. Lucy smiled at him, before reaching out and pausing the music she had been playing.
Tim glanced at the screen, and his brows furrowed when he saw the song “I See The Light.”
“Why are you playing Disney music?”
Lucy pointed behind her, and when Tim tuned his head around, he was shocked to see a car seat facing the back of the back seat, and a mirror on the headrest, allowing him to see the sleeping infant, no more than 6 or 7 months old, in the carseat.
“Tangled is her favourite.” She said, putting the car in reverse, and backing out of the driveway. “And she was not too happy to be taken out of her sleep sack before she was ready.” Lucy said, a smile on her face.
“Im sorry,” Tim apologized immediately. Not only did he wake her up in the middle of the night, he had her wake her sleeping baby up, to come and get him from a party in the middle of nowhere, when he could have just called an Uber.
Lucy shook her head. “Don’t be,” she said, reading his mind. “She was going to wake up soon for a feed anyways, so it’s all good.”
Tim nodded, his head turning back to face the road. “I uh,” he said, glancing down at his hands before speaking. “I didn’t know you were a mom.”
Lucy nodded with a smile. “Yeah, I am.” She said. “I love it more than I thought I would.” She explained. “I mean, I always knew I wanted to be a mom, but the second she entered the world, I knew I’d love it more than anything in this world.”
Tim smiled. “I’m happy for you, I know how much you’d wanted the whole marriage and kids thing.”
Lucy nodded, eyes on the road. “Actually, just the kids. I’m not married.” She said. She looked sideways at Tim briefly, and answered his unasked question. “I’m single.”
“Oh,” Tim responded, unsure what else to say.
“Yeah,” Lucy nodded, glancing back at her baby. “Chris wasn’t too keen on being a father.” She explained, and Tim shook his head.
“What an idi- I mean dummy head.” He said, glancing back at the baby briefly, making Lucy laugh.
“Its okay, you can swear.” She said. “I don’t care, and It helps her development, so swear it up.” She said, making Tim laugh.
“What an idiot.” Tim continued, before shaking his head. “Nope, can’t swear. Feels too weird.”
Lucy laughed, and Tim smiled looking over at her. He had missed that sound more than anything, and he knew it was all his fault that he hadn’t heard it in nearly two years.
“Anyways, Sanford is a dummy head for doing that to you.” Tim continued.
“I know, but it’s not the first time someone has left me when things have gotten hard.” She said, and Tim nodded sadly, knowing that she was referring to him now.
“I know, and I’m-“ Tim began, before Lucy cut him off.
“if you say ‘I’m sorry’ one more time, I’m pulling over and you can walk.”
They both laughed, and Tim opened his mouth once more. “Okay, okay I’m-“ he began, before him and Lucy glanced at each other, and immediately looked away as they both burst into laughter.
Their laughs were cut short by a cry from the backseat. Lucy reached out, tapping the ‘AirPlay’ button on her car display, and bringing up the Tangled soundtrack again.
“I’m sorry, Mae Mae,” Lucy said, looking into her rearview mirror, where she could see the reflection of her daughter. “Look, Mama’s playing your music.” As soon as Mandy Moore’s singing voice began to float from the car speakers, the infant calmed down, and looked out the window.
The car was quiet for a few minutes, and Tim wouldn’t admit it, but he actually enjoyed the Tangled soundtrack. He then decided to break the silence, wanting to know more about what he’d missed in the Lucyverse the past almost two years.
“What’s her name?” He asked, referring to the baby in the backseat.
Lucy swallowed nervously before she responded. “Her name is Maple.”
Tim’s heart pounded in his chest, a wave of gruelling grief, the same wave that had washed over him for months when he left Lucy that had stolen his ability to take care of himself, crashed over him once more.
Maple was the name that they’d chosen together. Tim hadn’t liked it at first, but the more he’d thought about it, the name Maple Bradford definitely had a ring to it. When they’d broken up, he knew he was still going to use the name if he ever had kids, but he didn’t think that she would, especially after he left her the way he did.
“Y-You used the name.” Tim said quietly, and Lucy nodded. She looked over at him, and his heart broke even more when he saw that she had tears in her eyes.
“Yeah,” She admitted. “It was the only name that made sense to me.” She said, and upon seeing Tim’s confused look, she elaborated. “When I was in labor, I was all alone. It was the middle of the night, and I was woken up by the worst pain I had ever felt. I knew I was in labor, and was so scared of giving birth alone that I drove myself to the hospital. Once I got there, I was so scared, and didn’t want to disturb anyone, so I gave birth alone. The entire time, the only person I wanted beside me, I knew I couldn’t call.” She said, sniffling as she spoke.
“Who?” Tim asked, a little afraid of the answer.
“You.” She said, glancing at Tim. “I wanted you by my side. I wanted you to be there, holding my hand, and encouraging me. I wanted it to be you to be her father, not someone who never wanted her in the first place. But I couldn’t call you.”
Tim turned his body to face her. “Luce, I would have absolutely came and been there for you had you called me, you know that right?”
Lucy looked at him, a serious look on her face. “Do I, though?” She asked. “How was I supposed to know if you’d come and support me, after you left me when I needed you the most after I made P2?” She asked, and Tim looked down in shame.
He had done that. She had been struggling with him not being by her side on patrol, and was having separation anxiety and jealousy with him and his new rookie, and he, instead of supporting her and understanding, got mad at her and ended things. Which he immediately regretted, but regretted even more the next day when Grey told him that she had transferred, and hated himself when he went to her apartment, only to find that she was gone.
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” He said. “I hate that I did that to you. I shouldn’t have just given up on you, on us like that. I should have supported and understood you, not walked away. I regret ending things.”
“Well, its in the past now.” Lucy said. And Tim sighed sadly.
“So theres no hope for us, is there?” He asked, and Lucy looked over at him.
“Of course theres hope,” She said, pulling her car into his driveway. “I’ve always had hope that we’d find each other again.” She put the car into park and turned towards him. “I’m glad that you called me.”
“I’m glad you answered.” He said. He then glanced at his front door, then at Maple, before his eyes landed on Lucy.
“Do you want to come in?” He asked, his voice shaking at the implications of what he was asking.
Lucy smiled at him. “Of course we do.”
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You deserve someone worth the effort
Prompt: Tim and Ashley broke up after his spinal surgery yet Chris and Lucy are still dating. 5x08 where Chris is looking for houses and Tim decides it’s time to have a conversation with his colleague…
Please feel free to leave some feedback! you can also send me ideas :)
—
Today seemed like another day at the station. Tim arrived early as usual and got into his uniform, preparing himself for yet another busy day in Los Angeles. He met with Sergeant Grey for their daily briefing before heading to the roll call room to brief the other patrol officers. Everything is normal until now.
Well… that’s what he thought until he walked to the shop and met a rather distant Lucy. She seemed far away, lost in her thoughts which made him a bit suspicious. It caused him to now overthink too about the reason for Lucy's spiral. He walked closer to her and cleared his throat to signal his presence, seeing her snap out of her thoughts immediately.
“Ready to roll?” He asked after seeing that she had set the shop for them, watching her give him a small nod.
They both got into the car and began their patrol, doing some small talk before Lucy’s phone rang. Chris was FaceTiming her to show her a house for sale. He could not help but feel confusion as he heard the two talk. They both seemed on two very different pages. On one hand, Chris seemed excited about visiting potential houses to buy, and on the other, Lucy seemed much more reserved about the whole thing. Once they hung up, Tim glanced quickly over at Lucy, unable to shake away his confusion.
“Are you and Chris moving together?” He asked after a few seconds of silence, feeling his heart tighten in his chest.
“No, uh… It’s not…” Lucy mumbled, unable to get her words together. “Yet, he seems to think you are.” Tim said, almost cutting her off. He quickly looked over at her again, noticing how tense Lucy looked. That sight caused his heart to break a little. He hated to see Lucy upset.
“Yeah, I mean, he kinda sprang it on me this morning…” Lucy added, playing with her fingers as an attempt to control the anxiety she felt in the moment. Tim nodded and after some silence, he let out a sigh. “You two are happy right? Those are the obvious next steps for you.” He asked but before Lucy could answer, they received a call about a few bombs placed around people’s necks and immediately went to deal with the situation. Tim realized they needed to have a conversation about her and Chris’ relationship but knew that now was not the moment. They had to focus on their jobs.
—
They controlled the situation along with other officers and were now headed back to the station. It felt rather tense in the car as they silently sat together in the shop until Lucy’s phone rang again. Chris called to check on Lucy as well as to let her know about a property he had heard off. Sensing Lucy’s discomfort, he intervened in order for her to get off the phone, receiving a kind smile from her as a thank you.
“Lucy, look, if you don’t want to move, just tell Chris that.” Tim broke the silence between them, sensing that Lucy needed some help processing everything happening. “That's... The question is, why don't I want to move in? I don't get what the problem is. I mean, Chris is great. We're great together. We never fight.” Lucy said as she looked out the window, trying to clear her mind and put her thoughts all together.
Tim found a place to park and stopped the car, looking over at Lucy. She looked surprised at his action but he knew that they both needed that conversation in the moment.
“Lucy, maybe that’s the problem. But do you guys not fight because you don’t disagree on things or because you don’t think it’s worth the bother?” Tim asked and Lucy felt speechless, unable to answer his question in the moment — something that actually answered it perfectly. “Lucy, you deserve someone that’s worth the effort.” He added, a soft smile forming on his face. He meant every word. Lucy had been through hell and back ever since she became a police officer and he needed her to realize her worth.
Lucy nodded at his words but stayed silent, trying to collect herself. But deep down, she knew that she had made her decision. She was scared. Of course she was. A relationship with Tim meant taking a risk that could change her life forever — for better or for worse depending on the outcome. Yet, he was worth the risk.
—
The next morning, Lucy found Tim in the Watch Commander’s office. He was replacing Sergeant Grey who was on vacation in New York with his wife to visit their daughter. She knocked on the door softly before walking in, still wearing her casual clothes as she was early for her shift.
“Lucy?” Tim asked as he looked up at her, gesturing at her to close the door behind herself. He stood up and smiled at her, glad that the station was still empty at this hour.
Lucy walked closer to him and took a deep breath. “You were right yesterday about Chris and I. I was too scared to admit that we weren’t working out and felt guilty about what Rosalind did to him.” She began, looking up into Tim’s blue eyes, giving him a soft smile. “I broke up with him last night. You helped me realize that I needed better than Chris, someone who treats me right and makes me feel like the most important person on Earth.”
Tim searched Lucy’s face as she spoke, feeling speechless. He could feel tension between the two, like electricity. He wanted to kiss her but knew that it wasn’t the right time. Before Lucy could add anything else, he smiled a bit wider. “Lucy, would you like to go get dinner tonight with me?” He asked.
“Yes, Tim, I do.” Lucy answered and let out a giggle, feeling like a teenager all over again. She glanced out of the office’s windows to make sure no one was watching before she kissed Tim’s cheek. “I guess I’ll see you tonight in the parking lot.” She said before walking out, leaving a blushing Tim behind.
—
Years later, at their wedding, she would conclude her vows by saying: “Tim Bradford, you are worth the effort.”
#chenford story#the rookie#chenford#chen x bradford#lucy x tim#lucy chen#tim bradford#the rookie abc#the rookie fic#chenford fic#tucy#tim x lucy
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ok i posted a lil snippet of this fic last night but then decided i didn't like it out of context and deleted the post, but i do think i like this snippet well enough!!! current wip: kon versus the existential loneliness of being alive again.
warnings for internalized homophobia and suicidal ideation!
And then, just as a T-rex goes to fight the Nazi robot in the movie, Tim taps his long fingers against Kon’s knee. A jolt of lightning zaps through Kon’s body, but he ignores it.
“Hey,” Tim murmurs. “How’ve you been doing, big guy?”
“What?” Kon blinks. “I’m good. Why?”
Tim tips his head back and pins him with a piercing look. It’s not as piercing as Lois’s staring-daggers-through-your-soul looks can get, but it’s still up there.
“You’ve been avoiding everyone,” Tim says. “Cassie I get, ‘cuz, like, breakups are never fun. But Bart? Kory and Gar? Cass? And… me?”
“I saw Bart just the other day!” Kon objects. “We played video games and hung out for a while.”
“He said that only happened ‘cuz he invited himself over to see you.” Tim pauses. “Not that I mean we’ve been, like, talking about you behind your back or anything, uh—that’s not what I meant. I just asked because I haven’t seen you around much lately, and I didn’t know if that was a me thing, or…”
Oh. Kon could smack himself.
“No no no—it’s not you, I swear!” He groans, squeezing his eyes shut, and turns his head to hide his face in Tim’s hair. He smells of generic basic bitch men’s shampoo. “I’ve just, uh… I’ve been staying in Smallville mostly. Just… you know.”
Tim hums softly, his hand still resting on Kon’s knee. “Something on your mind?”
I keep wondering if I should have stayed dead. Also, something has been wrong with me since I came back, because I should be devastated about breaking up with Cassie, but all I feel is relief. Something is wrong with me, and I think I didn’t come back right, and I don’t know if I should’ve come back at all.
He can’t say any of that. Not to Tim, who was so shattered by his grief that he tried to clone him. Just to have a little piece of him back. Even if he knew it wouldn’t truly be Kon.
How could he possibly say any of this to Tim?
“Nothing, really,” he says. The lie tastes like ashes on his tongue. “Just… adjusting, I guess. Lost a year. That’s weird. Pa’s dead. That’s… I don’t even know what to say.”
For a moment, Tim is quiet. Then he shifts against Kon’s side, dislodging him. He turns to look Kon dead in the eyes; one hand reaches up and tips Kon’s chin up, resting against his cheek to prevent him from turning away. Kon resists the urge to squirm under his gaze.
“Dude,” Tim says. “You and I both know if it was just adjustment and grief, you wouldn’t be avoiding us.” Another pause. He scrunches up his face a little. “I mean—adjustment and grief both are real and suck and they’re totally valid reasons to be out of it, but that’s—you’re not…”
He trails off. Kon swallows hard and bites the inside of his lip. He can’t tell Tim what’s really eating at him, but his ability to read Tim is a two-way street. Tim knows how to read him, too.
Tim takes a breath. “You used to tell me just about everything.”
Fuck.
“Tim, I’m not…” Kon scrubs a hand over his face. His heart pounds hard in his chest. He can’t put this on Tim’s shoulders. He can’t. It would be so, so cruel to put that kind of fear in Tim’s head, the idea that Kon might want to die again—he doesn’t, he doesn’t want to die again. He just—he just thinks maybe he should’ve stayed dead.
But he can’t say that to Tim. He can’t be that cruel. Not to Tim, who’s already been through so much grief.
“There is something else bothering me,” he admits, unable to meet Tim’s gaze. “But I can’t tell you. And that’s—it’s not your fault I can’t tell you, it’s me, I just—I can’t, okay?”
Tim is quiet for a moment. Something explodes on the TV screen; the white light washes over his face as Kon peers at him through his fingers, heart racing with anxiety. He doesn’t want Tim to think he’s the problem—he just can’t… he can’t say it.
“Are you sure?” Tim asks, after a beat. “I know I’m… different. Not really the same guy I was when you died. If that’s… if you need space to process that, and that’s why—”
“It’s not!”
That’s—that’s too much. Tim can’t think that, Kon can’t let him think that, that would never in a million years be the reason Kon can’t tell him something and he needs to know!
Kon shoves the bowl of popcorn out of the way; his TTK is the only reason it doesn’t go flying across the room, and instead settles neatly onto the coffee table. He throws his arms around Tim’s waist and hauls him into a hug, mindful of the gauze on his upper back as he clutches at him. He can hear the beating of Tim’s heart, can feel it against his own chest; Tim’s bare skin and his own are separated only by the thin layer of Kon’s shirt, and he can feel the warmth of his body radiating through the fabric.
For an agonizing second, Tim is still, frozen in his arms. Then, like a spell has broken, he melts, slotting himself into Kon’s chest like he was made to fit there; his cheek comes to rest against Kon’s shoulder, nose brushing his neck, and his arms slip around Kon’s waist in turn.
“I swear, Rob, it’s not that,” Kon manages. “I swear it’s not. It’s—it’s something in my head. It’s not you at all. You’re—you’re perfect, okay?” He can’t fuck this up. He can’t fuck this up and make Tim think he’s the problem. He just—
He just can’t tell him.
“Kon…” Tim takes a slow breath, blows it out as a deep, heavy sigh against his shoulder. Kon holds him a little tighter, helpless. After a moment, Tim nods slowly against him. “Okay. I believe you.”
The relief is so poignant that Kon’s stomach churns. Thank god. His shoulders slump with the weight of it; gratitude settles like snowfall on top.
Then Tim draws back, looks at him with those same piercing eyes. Like Kon is a puzzle that he needs to turn over and over in his hands until he figures out what makes him tick. “But you still can’t tell me?”
Kon looks away. He misses Tim’s warmth in his arms already. He doesn’t want to think about what that might mean. “…No.”
#rimi talks#the movie with a t-rex fighting a nazi robot is real btw. its called kung fury and it is a cinematic masterpiece.#theres a cop who knows kung fu after he got struck by lightning and also vikings with guns. there is a LOT going on in this movie.#anyways. the point is. um. kon existential crisis wooooo!!!#timkon#tim#kon#rimi writes
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You Brought Your Worst and I'm Right Here - Chapter One: Prologue
Pairing: Gale of Waterdeep x female Tav
Work Summary:
After an explosive falling out between Gale and his academic adviser, Mystra, Tav is left to pick up the pieces.
Modern/College AU.
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Epilogue
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 790
Read on AO3.
Masterlists.
Taglist: @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye
Taglist info
Notes:
Hi guys, I can't stop playing BG3, please send help.
I'm planning on updating this fic every Monday <3
Major major warnings for grooming, suicidal ideation/suicide attempt, mental health problems
---
In retrospect, Tav should’ve seen it coming. As it was, she was woefully unprepared for what was about to become to worst day of her life.
She had spent most of her day at the university library trying to finish up a lab report, and she felt like her brain was about to drip out of her ears.
What she really needed was a pizza and a stiff drink. As soon as she’d submitted her report, she was planning on eating herself into a food coma and then sleeping for eighteen hours.
She had re-read her report three times, and every single time she’d caught more typos. Normally, she’d get Gale to check it for her before submitting but she hadn’t seen him today and she didn’t want to have to wait around for him to respond.
She really should read it over one more time. That was precisely what she was thinking as she pressed the button to upload the report to her uni portal. As soon as that was done, she relished the feeling of closing down all of the tabs that had been bothering her for hours and then logging out of the library computer.
She checked her phone to see if anyone else had responded to her message from earlier where she’d suggested they get a takeaway.
Gale still hadn’t responded, although all the rest of her flatmates had. That wasn’t all that surprising. He could be a bit of a hermit, particularly recently. He was never one to say no to pizza though. She was sure she could tempt him when she got home.
Astarion was out this evening, but her other two flatmates had seemed keen as well.
The bus home was predictably crowded. Tav squeezed herself into a corner against the wall and willed her eyes to stay open for the duration of the journey. It was raining when she stepped off the bus.
By the time she’d made it to her street, cold rivulets of water were running down from her hairline to her chin. She shivered, glad that she had opted to leave her laptop at home today because her rucksack was getting worryingly damp.
It took her three tries to get her key to turn. The lock was stiff. Their landlord had advised them to put Vaseline on it to prevent this problem. Tav thought that if the lock was stiff enough to need Vaseline, then the landlord should’ve replaced it. He didn’t agree.
Finally, mercifully, the door opened, and she stepped inside.
A movie that Tav didn’t recognise was playing on the TV. Jenevelle, affectionately nicknamed Shadowheart because of her emo tendencies, was stretched out on the sofa, fast asleep.
Shadowheart was a medical student. Tav considered her workload to be slightly insane, and it wasn’t the first time she’d come home to find her passed out on the couch. Luckily, Tav knew her order off by heart, so she didn’t have to wake her until the food arrived.
Wyll was nowhere to be seen. She supposed that maybe he wasn’t home yet. Her stomach gave a loud grumble as she hung up her coat and deposited her rucksack on the radiator to dry. She shook out her hair and made for the stairs.
Gale’s bedroom door was closed. She knocked on it gently, and when she got no response, more forcefully.
“Gale?”
She had the strangest sinking feeling in her gut. Something was wrong. There was no light coming through the crack under his door. If Gale wasn’t home, why would his door be closed? None of them ever left their door shut when they went out (except for Astarion).
Maybe he was sleeping?
“Gale?” she called, louder this time. There was still no response. She rattled the door handle, and was relieved to find that it wasn’t locked. The door opened. She hoped he wouldn’t mind her intrusion, but she could handle him being annoyed if it meant quelling her anxiety.
It was very dark. She could just about make out the shape of him on his bed.
“Gale?” Even to herself, her voice sounded strange, too loud in the quiet of his room. “Gale?”
She took a tentative step towards him. Her eyes were adjusting to the light, and that’s when she saw the empty bottle of pills, lying discarded beside his bed.
She rushed to his side, grabbing his arm, but he didn’t react at all. She shook him, but his body was limp. Even in the dark, she could see the traces of vomit around his mouth. An inhuman scream ripped through her as she continued to shake him.
Somewhere far behind her, she heard the front door close.
“SHADOWHEART!” she screamed. “JEN? JEN!”
Next Chapter
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Hi! Can you write and imagine where reader and timmy meet again for the first time since he cheated on her ,and he wants her back ? 💖
Hi anon ! Thank you for your sad request, I hope you’ll like it 🤎
my masterlist
*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅**⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾
genre: angst
words: 1k
warning: cheating, timothée is the asshole, smoking
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“Do I really have to come?” You annoyedly asked throughout the phone, not wanting to come to the little party she was organizing at her home to catch up with all your friends.
“Y/n you have to come, it’s been so long since we last saw you, it will be fun I promise.” She gushed and you sighed. It was true, you hadn't seen your friends since a long time, since your breakup with Timothée. He was their friend too and since you didn’t want to see him you simply decided to not see them, not ready to face the boy. “It’s because of Tim, right?” You heard your friend say with a serious tone and you sighed. You always acted like the breakup didn’t affect you in front of your friends but you knew that deep down they knew how crushed you were.
“I don’t care about Timothée,” you announced, trying to be as convincing as possible, “Look, I’ll be here but I don’t guarantee you that I’ll stay long.” You immediately explained, trying to cover you up in case seeing the boy was too much for you.
“Thank you Y/n, see you tomorrow.” She almost screamed in your ear before you hung up, feeling anxious. You knew you had to face him sooner or later, having to finally move on.
When the day finally came, you dressed well, too well, and felt silly, knowing that you were doing that for Timothée. You wanted to make him regret it. Make him regret the way he made you feel when you learned the news. The way you thought for weeks that YOU were the problem, that you weren’t attractive enough for him. He made you feel so insecure, so ugly. You left the house scared, angry, and apprehensive of what was yet to come.
Like you thought, you weren’t ready to face the boy. When your eyes met his green orbits you could feel all the destroying feelings that you felt a month before. However, you quickly fighted against it, and went to greet all your friends. You could feel his eyes on you, his look almost begging you to look at him, knowing damn well the power he still had on you. You sat with your friends, talking and drinking, trying to ignore the curly haired boy still looking desperately at you.
Eventually, it all felt too much, you felt like you would break down right now in front of everyone. Seeing the boy you once loved, you still loved deep down. You excused yourself to your friends and went to the balcony to smoke a cigarette, to cool down. When you pushed the glass door of your friend’s balcony before filling your lungs with a deep breath of fresh night air. You watched the city lights, almost nostalgically. While you were getting ready to take a cigarette out of your pack, you saw a hand holding out one for you. You looked up, meeting Timothée’s soft glaze. You took the cigarette with an almost inaudible “thanks”, Timothée simply smiled before lighting his.
The first minutes were awkwardly silent. The two of you just inhaled and exhaled the smoke without talking or even looking at each other. You could still feel his eyes on you and you wondered if the goosebumps were from the fresh air or him.
“I’m sorry.” You heard him say as he was now leaning against the balcony, the city lights reflected on him, the slight breeze in his hair. You were shocked by his nonchalance, like he was apologizing for something you should have already accepted.
“You’re sorry?” you asked a little bit irritated. “Is it really the only thing you can tell me right now?”
Timothée slightly sighed. “Y/n, I apologized so much. What I did was noy okay, it was awful and I know it. It… I hurted you and I’m deeply sorry. I know it’s not something you can forgive and forget but please, please give me another chance.”
You were smoking your cigarette like it was the only thing that would stop you from crying in front of his watchful eyes.
“You destroyed me Timothée. Do you know how many hours, days and nights, I spent hating on myself, wondering why I haven’t been enough, what was wrong with me? Do you know the humiliation I felt Timothée ? Knowing that everyone saw you cheating on me. I always did so much for you, accepted so much: your fame, your frustration from work, your work schedule, the fact that you had to leave me for month to shoot movies, seeing you being with all these pretty actresses and models, being compared to your exes, insulted on social media. I bore all of that for you, because I love you and you weren’t even able to do the bare minimum, you weren’t even able to respect me.” Tears were coating your eyes and your efforts to not let them fall were useless as you felt your cheeks wetenning. Timothée quickly wiped your tears with his free hand before cupping your face.
“I love you so much Y/n, I couldn’t stop thinking about you all this time, I need you. Without you everything is so difficult, it’s awful. I’m begging you, my love, please.” Timothée was looking at you and you could see the pain in his eyes but you could also feel the pain of his betrayal in your heart.
“I’m sorry Timothée, I can’t, I’m still here for you but I can’t trust you anymore.” You took his hand in your, feeling the touch of his skin against yours before crushing your cigarette and throwing it.
Your heart broke when you left him on the balcony, a fake smile on your face to say goodbye to your friends before going back to your home, thinking about timothée, thinking about the good memories and dreaming about your life, your love with him, the love you will never have anymore.
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a/n: like, reblogs and comments are always appreciated :)
I hope you liked this story!
I created this blog to allow black girls to feel more comfortable with reading x reader, as a black person I saw how much we weren’t really represented in the fanfic community
* ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° * ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °
This is my work, please don’t repost it, translate it or take it without my permission.
published the 10/08/2022
taglist: @/timotheel0ver @track0526
#black reader#timothee chalamet x black reader#timothee chalamet x you#timothee imagine#timothee fanfic#timothée chalamet x reader#timothee chamalet#timothée chalamet angst
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Idea Ranting or something about y/n’s friend.
First Post — Second Post
Warning: Has not been proofread and you can probably tell.
I'm thinking that y/n would have one friend. They're so close and hanging out together all the time that her friend's parents basically see y/n as their second child. Girl needs normal love and affection and there's no way she's getting that from the batfamily.
Thinking of a name and personality for y/n's friend is kinda difficult. Just ended up going with Eleanor. It sounds strong, elegant, and Victorian. For the last name, maybe Spencer. Idk. For Eleanor's personality I'm thinking of something bold and caring. I just like the mental image of y/n hiding behind her bestie for help. It would also be a good contrast between y/n's meekness.
Eleanor's nickname is Norah. Yes, I'm bringing this up now because Norah is shorter to write.
y/n and Norah probably meet at school. Since y/n goes to Gotham Academy which is a private school, Norah's parents are probably lawyers, doctors, or something. There wasn't anything in particular that brought them together, they just hung out. Seeing how Norah wasn't intimidated or enamored by the fact that y/n was a Wayne was also a plus.
They were friends, but not best friends until y/n quit vigilantism. Of course Norah knew nothing of that part of y/n's life. y/n suddenly had more time to hangout and had sleepovers. Everything was fine until Norah started noticing how much y/n was at her house and never at her own.
It wasn't like y/n living in her house was a problem. Norah liked y/n, she was an only child and didn't mind. Her parents enjoyed her company as well. It just worried Norah.
She was half debating on going to y/n's adopted brother, Tim, to ask if y/n got into a fight with her family but quickly shut down that idea. It would have been weird to ask and it wasn't like it was her place to know. Plus she rarely sees Tim at school considering he skipped a grade, so they rarely interacted.
Since y/n was basically sleeping at Norah's house every 3 to 5 nights, Norah and her family basically got a bunk bed. That way y/n wouldn't have to sleep on the couch anymore.
—————
"Oh, when did you get a bunk bed?" y/n asked as she entered the room. "Just last weekend. Me and my dad were struggling to put it together for a few hours." Norah chuckled while y/n was still perplexed.
It seemed like y/n was struggling to ask something. The sudden change in the room reminded her that she didn't need an answer to the question of why. It wasn't her home. That reminder made her reflect on her time here. How much time she spent here, how she was too comfortable here. The idea of her getting comfortable in a house that was not hers made her feel selfish and ashamed. She hoped that she wasn't too much of a nuisance to her friend and her parents. She'd probably try to back off and make sure not to cross this line again.
Yet Norah and her parents felt that there was no line crossed. As Norah turned on the TV she explained to y/n, "Since you sleepover so often I thought it'd be better if you know, sleep on a bed and not the couch. Now what do you feel like watching tonight? I know you like horror movies, but I was thinking of an action movie."
The [hair color] haired girl tuned out what Norah was saying. She felt, well she wasn't sure what she was feeling. All she knew was she didn't want to be an inconvenience or anything to the people that were so kind to her. She'd speak up completely disregarding the one sided conversation about what movie they were going to watch. "You, um…You didn't have to do that, you know."
Seeing how y/n's [eye color] eyes shifted away from Norah and her lips slightly moving to the right, Norah knew there was something bothering her. And she had an idea of what it was. In her opinion, y/n kneeled down to everyone, even to those who don't deserve it. y/n always kneeled down without expecting or asking for anything in return. Well maybe not expecting anything positive.
Norah shrugged her shoulders. Acting like this wasn't a big deal would ease y/n. "Eh, whatnot. I like having you over and I don't want you to not enjoy your time staying over." Hearing the little reassurance made y/n feel light. The weighted idea of being a nuisance slipped off her shoulders for a moment and would be forgotten for the time being as Norah distracted her.
The girl wanted to say that y/n shouldn't feel bad for having someone going out of their way to do something for her. But that would have ruined the mood for the rest of the night.
—————
When Damian came around y/n was noticeably more down than usual. Norah asked what was wrong and y/n's bottled up emotions and exploded. Maybe not exploding more like ranting and hugging a pillow to hide any tears just happened.
Not everything was revealed, but Norah never knew how low her self esteem was. How much she felt like an outsider in what was supposed to be her home. How her father told her to brush off any cruel things the youngest Wayne said because he went through some things. How lonely it was living there.
Learning all of this made Norah pissed. She was seething in the bean bag chair while learning this information. This lil cinnamon roll was now adopted by the Spencer family Norah mentally declared. This was her sister and no one was going to stop her. At least not yet.
After that night Norah suggested having a journal to write everything down. Of course y/n took that suggestion to heart and wrote in her journal almost daily. If only they knew how that backfire on them.
y/n dating Xander Jeremiah, Norah didn't think too much about it. It did get annoying hearing her gush about him if his name came up. But she was happy that her social circle got bigger and that she was happy with someone.
When learning he was dating her because she was a Wayne, Norah was loading up her metaphorical gun. Would have hunted him down to scream at him if y/n wasn't in need of support. Kinda pissed that y/n still ran back to him.
Doesn't trust him after that and will poke fun at him. Calling him a golddigger no matter how much y/n protests against the name. He needed some payback, y/n wasn't going to deliver, and Norah wasn't one to let justice go unserved.
When Xander revealed himself to Jeremiah. The twin brother of the newest Gotham psycho, Norah lost her shit. Why was y/n so calm about this!? She shouldn't be this calm about this!
After Jeremiah got sprayed and slowly began changing, Norah wanted y/n to just break up with him already. Sending him to Arkham wasn't helping and who knows how long it will take to find a cure. It also wasn't helping that his physical appearance was making look like the Joker.
y/n was too fucking loyal in her opinion. Not willing to let go until innocent people died. Until he was just another psycho that walked Gotham.
Though Norah could understand where y/n was coming from. There weren't a lot of people that care about her or that she trusted. It just hurt Norah to see her best friend struggling. Grasping at straws.
Of courses she felt bad for Jeremiah. Sure she wanted to punch his face in for hurting y/n the first time, but no one deserved to lose their sanity. It was hard for everyone to watch everything spiral down.
Then his obsessive behavior toward y/n was beyond disturbing to Norah. His little cult and the things he was willing to do to get to y/n naturally put stress on both of them. She was determined to stay by y/n because she needed support more than ever.
Things couldn’t get worse, Norah thought.
Then there was this other little rat named Jerome that would just not leave y/n alone. Norah was constantly fearing for y/n's safety because these two fuckers just had to torment y/n.
Guys, just fuck off. Leave y/n alone she's been through enough. If not then go get hit by a bus. - Norah
Then the batfam just swoops in taking y/n. Norah is confused and conflicted. One hand she was confused as to why y/n's family is caring about her now. On the other she knows that they'd probably be able to provide more security than her.
Gets weird vibes when visiting y/n at the manor since she's been restricted from going out too much. y/n's brothers were interesting- no they were weird and they pissed Norah off.
They had the gall to interrogate her like she wasn't y/n's best friend and real support unlike them. Her own family. Will go off on them on y/n's behavior if she just asked.
I would love the idea of Norah being a meta human, but idk. Norah wants to be a hero since she has a power that could help and y/n just sweating in the background. She doesn't want to lose or drift apart from Norah because of vigilantism like with the family. But I'm still on the fence about that.
I would have put tags on this but it wouldn't feel right I guess. It's more of writing out some ideas.
Also debating on how big of a role she'll play in the story. I know some people don't particularly like OCs in whatever reader-insert and it depends on how prevalent they are. I don't want to just throw y/n out to fend for herself. I do plan on having multiple endings and one being a good ending that has Norah helping or leaving Gotham with y/n. I don't know, I just fear that readers wouldn't like her. But for now I plan on having her be y/n's confidant.
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mousey times pt. 2!
@randomlifeunit
My first comment! Oh, you're lovely. Thank you! All right, yes, to answer.
Until I recently moved into a 'no pets' home, I had hamsters so I can entirely understand your boys' desire to keep small rodents captive for the mutual amusements of both sides. The first time I saw one of the NIMH mice in a cage instead of streaking across the floor like an oversized cockroach I too entertained the 'but what if we keep him?' thought. I'm proud to say I was just as sensible about it as you were...
but only just barely.
all right - story time! Here, have a cup of something nice and settle in
So, to recap, this winter I had several mice decide the inside of my place was good winter lodgings. I disagreed. I managed to catch three of them and then my brother in law was kind enough to come over and help me. Mice activity seemed to be centered in the kitchen despite the fact I'd locked all the food up like Fort Knox and so he helped me move the stove and the fridge out of the way. Sure enough, the floor behind the fridge had sunk, probably due to water damage from the last tenant, and the gap it left was big enough for a mouse to saunter through and not even have to remove his feather cap for. My BIL did some magic with spray foam and steel wool. He sealed some holes under the cabinets as well. Then he checked the rest of my place and went on his merry way, secure in a job well done. I cleaned up the layers of mouse pee behind the fridge that told me this wasn't their first Christmas there.
So I think all's well. Things are sealed up. I know my other rooms are secure. I've caught everyone I was aware of already and anyone that shows up tonight will just have to realize the hotel has hung out the No Vacancy sign.
Except.
Because you already knew there was an 'except' coming. Except, that night, while I was at my desk working on the computer I heard a squeak. A squeak from under the cabinets. And it wasn't a small squeak, no. It was the kind of squeak that held all the indignite surprise and mousy curse words something that small could possibly pack into it. The way the cabinets are set up, the 'floor' of the cabinet is actually raised off the floor of the kitchen an inch or so and apparently someone had been napping under them while my BIL had been busy sealing up all the exits. Waking up and ready for a night of mischief (and waving at me as they ran past on the counter) they'd instead found themselves sealed in!
So I've got a mouse trapped underneath my cabinets. No problem. I get the trap out, put some peanut butter in it and pull out the lowest drawer in the cabinets drawers to put the trap there. I know rodents can crawl up the backs of drawers though (because that's how the hamsters would often come to visit me when I was writing at my desk) so I seal it up with my good old standby of duct tape and go back to work. There's a bit of foamy gnawing, a few more squeaky curse words but nobody emerges into the kitchen and I figure it should only take a day or two for the peanut butter to work.
Wrong.
By day four the trap is still safely guarding its peanut butter and I'm starting to worry that the little mouse might be starving in there. Now, its probably a very small mouse and I should probably let it starve despite the smell because its only going to be a small smell for a little while but -
yeah. I can't let him starve. A hoard of previous hamsters rises up inside my heart. I pull up the duct tape and put down a little jelly lid with water in it and some of the birdseed I've been feeding the local chickens.
The next day the food is gone. The cage remains empty.
I clean the peanut butter out of the trap and put the seed in there instead. Two days go by. No mouse. I cave again and put some of the seeds on top of the cage. They're gone the next day.
So yeah. Basically what I'm saying is I provided bed and board to a mouse all winter long.
I tried the trap various times. I tried a different trap. I baited it with everything I thought a mouse could want. No go. Finally I just kind of gave in, bought real mouse food instead of bird seed and just made it a routine to replenish and rewater every other day. The mouse never came out. I never found a single poop or nibble anywhere in the kitchen, though from time to time I would hear little gnawing sounds or the unmistakable sound of a tiny mouse body doing tiny mouse things in one of the now empty, lower cabinets. I did find all the little holes in the cabinet though because the mouse smell did leak out of them and there's now decorative painter's tape in several areas. Everything that had been in the cabinets now found new homes in my bookcase. The Underneath was Mousey Territory now and we both stayed on our sides of that demarcation.
And then, one day, early this spring, I went to change the food and no one had eaten it. I kept an eye on things for almost two weeks but whoever my little surprise house elf friend had been, they didn't need my mouse food anymore. I keep a suspicious and sharp eye out but no mousey poop or chewed bags showed up anywhere else in the house. Maybe he died somewhere under the counter, asleep in a little curled ball in its nest of dandelion down I'd left for it but I never smelled anything whenever I opened the cabinets. I like to think he found a gap between the cabinets and the wall and is now running free, living his best mousey life in the newly planted corn fields with a wild story to tell all his mousey friends.
The cabinets remain empty and will continue to do so for the rest of my time here. If he did find a way out, I see no reason to encourage anyone else to move back in.
Did you ever find out how they were getting into your house? Was it seasonal for you as well?
#mouse#mice#rodents#mouse problems#storytelling#mouse story#story#ask answering#randomlifeunit#cottagecore#cause hey#cottagecore ain't all pretty pictures and white dresses
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You're Just Like Quicksand
Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Batman Beyond
Summary: Jason Todd is ready to go into semi-retirement after fifteen years working with troubled youth, but one case in particular forces him to confront the sins of his youth and painful memories from his past.
Chapters: 6/?
Characters: Jason Todd, Terry McGinnis, Warren McGinnis, Mary McGinnis, Matt McGinnis, Bruce Wayne, Original Character(s)
Relationship(s): TBA
Additional Tags: Protective Jason Todd, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Retired Jason Todd, Multiple POV, Hurt/Comfort, Parent-Child Relationships, Canon Divergent AU, Angst, Mourning Jason Todd
Chapter Six: Family Portrait (Terry McGinnis' POV)
I showered and changed into the pajamas Jason gave me. They were baggy, but they fit well enough. He sat in the living room, reading a book by the fireplace. I sat at the top of the stairs, watching him. “Terry, you can come downstairs whenever you’re through watching me,” Jason whispered. I stood up and looked over the stair rail.
“How’d you know I was here?” I questioned. Jason grinned upward at me.
“I heard you breathing,” Jason chuckled, “What’s the matter, Terry?”
“Jason, you don’t get a little messed up during these riots?” I asked. I had to admit that I was scared. I hated the riots in Gotham because there was no way to see if it was a meta-problem or a gang problem. A meta problem sometimes meant we were shut in the house for days. He shook his head.
“It gives me an excuse to sit up all night. I’ll put a good dent in this series,” Jason replied, “Wanna borrow the first issue?”
I nodded, and Jason pulled the first book from a stack on his living room table. I curled up on his couch and started reading. “Jason, thanks for letting me help with dinner. I had fun,” I replied. Jason grinned.
“I had fun too, Terry… You know you can do this with your father at home too?” Jason suggested. I know he meant well, but things were still weird with my dad. He didn’t get me like Jason did. I nodded, but I didn’t answer him. “It helps… Common ground between parents and their kids has to start somewhere, Terry.”
Jason returned to his book, and I read until I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. I woke up, tucked into bed with the book on the bedside table. I could hear Jason’s voice in the hallway. “Hi—. No, it's not like that. I'm safe. The generator's fine… Do they feed you enough? Of course, I love you and miss you… Yeah, I know. I'm glad you called… No, I'm not mad that you called. I was shocked… Hey, no… Don't do that. I understand," Jason's voice bride, "Don't worry about it. I'll see you as soon as I'm freed up… No, I—. I wanted you to call. I love you too. A million times more… A billion. Night night."
Once he hung up, I stepped into the hall, where I witnessed Jason crying with his forehead against the wall. "Jason, I didn't mean to listen, but I couldn't sleep," I whimpered. Something about seeing him cry twisted my stomach in knots. "Jason, I—. Please don't cry." I tugged at his sleeve and pulled him into a hug.
"I shouldn't—. Sorry that I woke you up," Jason sniffed as he collected himself.
"What happened?" I asked.
"I got a call from someone I love dearly. It's hard when you haven't seen someone in a long time. Sometimes it hurts to hear the kids’ voices," Jason confessed. “Want some cocoa?”
I nodded and followed him to the kitchen. Jason took a serving platter out of the pantry and filled a small pot with all his ingredients faster than I could sit down. “Is Tim your little brother?” I asked.
Jason chuckled and nodded. “I’m the third of six kids. But if we were talking order of when we were adopted-slash-acquired… I was his second child. He never completely figured out the whole parenting thing, but I was close to him when I was young,” Jason replied.
“You were adopted?” I asked. “Did you—? Sorry, that’s rude.”
“No, it’s fine. I am adopted. Technically twice adopted, but I didn’t know that until I was fifteen. I lived with my biological father and the woman I knew as my mother until they both passed, then I was adopted, and three and a half years later, I found out my mom wasn’t my biological mom… My biological mom left the country,” Jason answered honestly, “I met my biological mom once… and it took me over twenty-five years to process that. And that’s why I stress the importance of you trying to bridge the gap between yourself and your pop. He loves you so much, and he wants to see you. Warren wants to understand you. Some kids never get that in their parents… Trust me.” Jason turned away from the pot and smiled at me.
“What was your bio mom like?” I asked.
Jason turned his back. “I don’t speak ill of the dead, but I can speak to how our meeting affected me. Out of all the neglect, verbal abuse, and exploitation I experienced as a kid… The day I met my biological mother left me scarred physically and mentally in ways that my wife —God rest her soul— couldn’t even understand. Speaking of that, have you ever thought of therapy?” Jason asked.
“There’s nothing wrong with—.”
“I’m not saying that. Everyone tends to need therapy from time to time… I didn’t think I needed it, but I started going because my kids went… and it changed me. Made me more gentle, kind, and patient. I had to stop a few years back because I hit a wall… But it helped a lot,” Jason replied, “It’s not always fun, but it’s worth it if you put in the work.”
“Like going to the gym?” I half-joked. Jason nodded.
“Exactly like that,” Jason replied.
“Well, I’ll try it whenever you go back,” I joked. I didn’t mean to be hurtful, but he winced. “Jason, I didn’t—.”
“No, you’re right. It’s hypocritical of me to think that you’d give therapy a go when I’m actively avoiding it,” Jason replied, “But you can’t go contingent on my successes or failures. I’m your mentor, but I won’t allow you to make decisions based on what I do. You’re not a follower, Terry.” He was stern but sincere.
I didn’t argue with him, and I wasn’t angry with him. “Terry, I don’t mean to be hard on you. I like you. You remind me of someone… And I don’t wanna see you follow somebody right into an early grave. You’re a good kid, and I know you can be great if you put your mind to it,” Jason explained as he poured my cocoa into a mug before messing up my hair.
“You really do care, don’t you?” I asked. Jason nodded.
“So much,” Jason replied, “I hate to say it, but you remind me of how much fun I used to have with my kids… Even when they were getting in trouble.” That made me even more curious about his family. How could I be anything like his kids or his family? “Mostly, you remind me of myself when I was a kid… But you know that already. That’s how I know you’ll be alright if you learn to make your own decisions. You don’t have to follow in anyone’s footsteps. You understand me?”
“Yeah,” I replied as I sipped the cocoa he made. It was rich and warm, and it filled me with comfort. It was the feeling I used to get when I had fever chills as a kid, and my dad wrapped me in blankets fresh from the dryer. It made me want my dad. I wanted him so badly I thought I'd cry.
#fic#batfam#batman beyond au#yjlq fic#Jason Todd#Terry McGinnis#Warren McGinnis#Mary McGinnis#Matt McGinnis#Bruce Wayne#Original Character(s)#Protective Jason Todd#Good Sibling Jason Todd#Retired Jason Todd#Multiple POV#Hurt/Comfort#Parent-Child Relationships#Canon Divergent AU#Angst#Mourning Jason Todd
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a very good idea - chapter 11
summary: After your boyfriend cheats on you at a party, you break up with him, who tells you nobody else is willing to be with you like him. You decide to prove him wrong, with a little help from a new friend.
ship: miguel o'hara x f!reader
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Chapter 11
It was Miguel’s last middle school dance. It was also the last time he would see several of his classmates, who would be going to different high schools next year. It was the ending of a chapter and the beginning of a new one. He should’ve been having fun, like he had so many times before, but that night was unlike any other.
Miguel fucked up. Big time. The truth is he didn’t even realize what he was doing until it was too late. He felt terrible for hurting people he cared about, especially because, for the first time in his life, just apologizing wasn’t enough to fix things. They never wanted to see his face again — which Miguel didn’t blame them for. There was a part of him, one he was sort of ashamed of, that struggled with the idea of not being liked by everyone. That had never been a problem for him. But life was changing. Quickly. He felt like he had gone through several phases just that week. He had a hard time recognizing himself those days.
Instead of being at the gym, which had been transformed with decorations regarding the theme “A night to remember”, dancing with his friends and flirting with girls, Miguel was outside, sitting on a bench in front of school. The palms of his hands were covering his knees and he hung his head low, trying to recover from the sensory overload the celebration had brought him. It would have been better for everyone if he had stayed at home. Maybe it would’ve been easier to move on that way.
“Oof!”, Miguel heard someone sitting on the bench next to him. He didn’t move, not having it in him to interact with anyone else that night.
“Good thing I found you, I wanted to thank you for making this night less boring to me.”
Miguel’s curiosity won and he jerked his head to the side. It was you. And you were smiling at him. And just like that, all the work he had been doing to not fall apart disappeared, his body going into its severe nervous mode. Usually he would do his best to avoid this, you weren’t in his friendship circle and mostly kept it to yourself so, at school, you ignored each other’s presence.
It wasn’t easy, though. You and Miguel had several classes together and, every now and then, he couldn’t help but stare at you. You always sat in the third chair of the last row, close enough to the board to pay attention to the teachers, but not so much where you would stand out. With your several pens — as time went by, you would select a few to use each day, but still kept your full pencil case inside your backpack —, you were always taking notes, looking up very few times because you were so focused on the lesson. He loved how you always fooled yourself going to school with your hair down, just to put it up in a bun or a braid a few minutes into the first class of the day.
Sometimes Miguel would catch himself wondering how he could start a conversation with you. He knew you were nice and so shy, your face and neck would always get red when you received any type of attention you weren’t used to, which already wasn’t much. But he also knew that the people he hung out with didn’t like you very much. Miguel didn’t understand why, but with time he learned that it was easier if he didn’t question it, so he did his best to ignore you instead.
The only exception, the one excuse he had to talk to you without creating a fuss, was when he would tell you he forgot or lost his pen, could he maybe borrow one of yours? You always said yes. It made his heart ache of pain and happiness. He was always extra careful with your pens, he couldn’t risk the only opportunity he had to interact with you guilt free.
In seventh grade, there was this one time where Dana, his then girlfriend, got the pen from Miguel’s table when he was outside filling his water bottle. When he came back and didn’t find the pen, the boy lost his mind, acting like he had just lost a crown jewel. Dana ended up giving the pen back to him and they had a huge fight — he was mad because she took the pen and she was furious with the way he reacted to losing an object that belonged to you.
Seeing you at the dance was surprising, you never went to those things. Yet there you were, with half of your hair up and a few dots of glitter sparkling on your face. Looking at him.
“Sorry…?”
“I don’t know what you did to make those girls so angry, but hell, it was very entertaining anyways”, you chuckled, opening your purse in search of something.
Miguel wasn’t surprised the gossip had reached you, but it did bother him. He didn’t want you to think ill of him.
“Well, you know, I was in one of the stalls inside the girl’s bathroom when Dana and Xina started arguing”, you undid your hairdo and started working on a side braid. Your boldness was strange to Miguel — as was your slurred speech.
“Shit”, he looked away when your eyes found his. “We already argued about it earlier.”
“Is that why you are here?”
“Sort of, yeah.”
“I always get so bored out here. I’ve tried bringing crosswords and books with me, but my mom won’t let me.” You turned to him and said: “The awful vodka O’Reilly thinks no one notices him pouring on the punch is usually my only source of entertainment”.
“Are you drunk?”, Miguel couldn’t decide whether he was angry or amused.
“I don’t know, Miguel. Did you date those two girls at the same time?” Your eyes widened as soon as the words left your mouth. “Shit, I didn’t mean…”, you grabbed Miguel’s arm. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, I get it”, is what he said, but all he could think about was the heat left from your touch on his skin. After a few moments of silence, Miguel said: “There was some overlap between my time with Dana and Xina. Dana and I hadn’t gotten back officially and then things with Xina…just happened.”
He looked at you, you were playing with the tulle of your lilac dress. It wasn’t right, he knew it, but seeing the serious expression on your face was the most painful thing to come out of that whole story.
“It’s not an excuse or anything, I know I was wrong”, Miguel was quick to say. “I thought apologizing to them would make things better, but looks like it just made them worse. I’m not sure what else I can do.”
“They seemed angrier with each other than with you”, you said, still looking down. “It was like they were trying to argue who was more worthy of you.” You were lost in your own thoughts for a second, then you looked up at him: “What does that feel like?”
“What?”
“To be wanted.”
Miguel wasn’t expecting a question like that. He wasn’t exactly surprised either, your sensitivity had been one of the many qualities you possessed.
“I’m not sure how to answer that.”
“Try me.”
“I mean, you probably already experienced it, right?”
You scoffed.
“Of course not. Isn’t it obvious?”
“What does that mean?”
You rolled your eyes, like you couldn’t believe him.
“You know that everyone here thinks I’m the worst.”
“I don’t.” Saying that out loud made Miguel feel free. He wasn’t pretending for anyone’s sake, he really meant it.
You, however, gave him a disgusted look.
“So why is this the first time you said more than a few words to me in the four years we have studied together?”
It hurt to admit, but you were right. He knew it and he hated it. Four years of following other people and acting like that to fit in. What good did that do to him? Miguel ended up alone outside at what was supposed to be the most important night of middle school, anyway.
His silence emboldened you.
“So, yeah, people won’t even look at me, how would anyone want me?”, your voice was louder than usual, a result of the amount of punch you drank and the frustration you felt.
He wanted to tell you that he had always wanted to hang out with you, that he would make up all these scenarios in his head and that he looked at you, he saw you, just not when you were looking. The words escaped him.
“But you know, next year we are going to high school and what happened in middle school won’t matter anymore. The rules will be different.” You chuckled to yourself. “Who knows, if we end up at the same school, I might be the one ignoring you.”
“That’s fair, I guess.”
His eyes met hers and he felt like his chest was going to explode. That was another reminder that his actions had consequences. Miguel’s thoughts were that he was the worst and ruined everything.
You started laughing. Hard. As sad as Miguel was, a smile appeared on his face.
“What?”, he asked, his smile widening.
You were laughing so hard that your eyes became glassy.
“Tell me, come on”, Miguel started laughing with you.
Tears of laughter poured on your face.
“Do you remember that time we were in the middle of a biology test and Mr. Watanabe’s phone started ringing”, you tried to catch your breath, your voice uneven with so much laughter. “And all of sudden he looked like a ghost, we thought someone had died, but his wife had lost his pet turtle inside their own house.”
“How could I ever forget Moony Turtle?”
“Such a perfect name, she was really old too.”
“I don’t remember what happened to her after, though.”
“Mr. Watanabe ran home and searched everywhere at his place. His wife was convinced Moony had run away, but in the end she was just chilling inside the pantry.”
They kept looking at each other until all the laughter went away.
“But what about you? What do you think high school will be like for you?”
“Shit, I don’t know. Haven’t given it much thought.”
“Is there at least something you really want to do? Like…joining the mathletes or something.”
“The mathletes?”, he raised an eyebrow at her.
“What? You are really good with numbers, formulas and equations”, you sounded genuine. “It’s not that crazy.”
“Uh, thanks? But definitely not that…”
“Are you afraid it’s going to ruin your reputation?”, you mocked. “You’re a very handsome guy, if anything, it will make people go crazier for you.”
His heart skipped a beat.
“Do you think I’m handsome?”
You blushed, which made Miguel feel even better.
“It’s not really a matter of opinion, it’s more of a fact.”
Of course you would try to get away with it. Miguel didn’t want to ruin it by pushing you, so he just gave you a cocky smile and went back to the subject.
“I want to make new friends in high school. That’s it, that’s what I want.”
He swore your eyes sparkled at that.
“That sounds like a good plan.”
They were lost in the moment, until a car horn came from the street. A very pregnant woman came out of the passenger seat.
“Sorry to ruin the moment, Bubbles, but your niece is kicking the hell out of my belly, I really want pickles with doritos and tuna and I swear if you take another second, I might pee in my pants.”
“Who is that?”, Miguel asked, amused.
“My sister, never been very patient, but I swear the pregnancy is making it worse”, you got up from the bench, so did he.
“Bubbles, do you want your goddaughter to be born looking like a mix of pickles, doritos and tuna?”, your sister screamed.
“Bubbles, your sister will pee in the car seat. This is the company car, we can’t have that happen again”, the driver shouted.
“Again?”, Miguel asked, quietly.
“Coming!”, you shouted back. You considered him for a second, then said: “Have a nice summer, Miguel”.
Miguel wasn’t sure if he had ever felt wanted or understood what it meant. But at that moment, he realized he did know that it was like wanting somebody. Miguel felt it with every fiber in his being: he desperately wanted you.
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a very good idea playlist
#a very good idea#oscar isaac fic#miguel o'hara fanfic#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#fake relationship#fake dating#friends to lovers#unrequited crush#Spotify
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Wherever You Are, There I Am - 3/? | westallen fanfiction
A/N: The last of my promised Christmas fic updates is here. Enjoy!
...
Chapter 3 -
After the second night in a row of nightmares plaguing her, a mixture of memory and fantasy, Iris made probably the bravest decision she could’ve in a while, and called up the therapist she hadn’t seen in 10 years.
She was booked for months, as probably should’ve been expected, and for the briefest of moments Iris wondered if maybe she shouldn’t have been so quick to throw away CSI Allen’s phone number.
She could easily get a message to him if she called the station, but she didn’t want gossip to spread, and it most assuredly would if the message implied a getting together of any nature. Perplexed as what to do, especially since she didn’t have any friends she could recall, having become a workaholic several years prior up until the present and foreseeable future, Iris saw only one name fall into place before her eyes.
Wally.
Sighing deeply, she scrolled through the contacts on her phone until she landed on his name.
She’d been sixteen when their parents were killed in an accident, and she’d practically raised him by herself when they were shuffled into an extended relatives’ home the same evening, being minors and all. They were close because of it, or had been until she’d buried herself in her work as soon as she became a detective.
Wally was okay. He worked in an auto shop and was dating a girl he planned on marrying. Life was working out well for him. At least it had been three years ago when she’d last heard from him.
She pressed his name and waited for him to pick up.
After three rings, she almost hung up herself, assuming he was either busy or didn’t hear from him, but just as her thumb hovered over the red phone symbol…
“Hello?”
She was silent, in disbelief. He’d actually picked up.
Now what?
“Hello?” he asked again. “Iris?”
He still had her in his contacts.
“H-h-hi,” she stammered, forcing a hesitant smile on her face.
“Hi,” he said, but he didn’t sound happy. “What do you want?”
She slumped over in her chair, twisting her feet around the wooden legs of it.
“To talk,” she said, a slight irritation she knew she had no right feeling creeping up in her. “Isn’t that why people call each other?”
Silence, then, “After three years?”
She swallowed. She really had abandoned every little thing that meant anything to her, hadn’t she?
“I’ve started having the nightmares again,” she admitted softly, hoping that would persuade him. She’d never told him about the nightmares. Ever. But he’d walked in on her screaming from them a time or two as a teen, so she knew he knew about them…once.
“So, see a therapist,” he barked back.
She sighed, aggravated now.
“I tried. She’s booked for months.”
“So, what? You want me to play therapist to solve your problems? After you didn’t so much as send me a Christmas card in three years?”
She winced.
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sorry too. Sorry you weren’t here when my girlfriend rejected my proposal or I lost my job. Or when I got evicted from my apartment and had to move back in with Uncle Tim and Aunt Gina, who passed away last fall, or didn’t you know about that either?”
Her jaw dropped, stunned.
“Nobody told me,” she said, and he had to hear how shocked she was. There were no pretenses now. Her aunt was gone?
“Well, I know people tried. Maybe you didn’t pick up because you didn’t want to be bothered by anyone that wasn’t related to your work. You wanted to pretend we didn’t exist, so you didn’t have to confront all your issues. And now your nightmares are back.” He scoffed. “Well, find someone else to help you work through them, sis, because it isn’t going to be me.”
“Wally-”
Click.
She pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it for a good minute before trying to call back. He didn’t pick up. She tried again. No such luck. She tried one more time, and she thought she heard the soft telltale sign of someone picking up, but then there was another click and a dial tone.
She stopped trying.
Setting her phone down, she crossed into the living room and plopped onto the couch, wrapping the blanket around her.
She’d burned the last bridge that meant anything to her. What was she going to do now? Sulk for the entirety of the weekend until Monday came back around, and she went back to work? Maybe she should go back into work tomorrow. It was apparently what she was best at.
She covered her face with a pillow and screamed into it before abandoning it to get up and shower.
She’d wait till Monday to go back to work. Until then maybe she’d work to find another therapist. There had to be a way to talk to someone besides the fidgety, suddenly forward CSI Allen.
…
The day Detective West came back to work, Barry Allen was a mess.
He tried his best not to show it, to just do as he was told and not even make eye contact with her if possible, but it was incredibly difficult. He was still so worried about her state of mind, even if she acted and sounded completely normal, like nothing had ever been wrong in the first place. He didn’t know why he was surprised. It was her M.O. to act like she was incapable of being vulnerable and scared and afraid, and honestly just sad.
One thing he was not going to do was offer her his phone number again though.
Maybe in a few days, he could be back to his old self, making corny jokes and trying to make her laugh as they went about their business. But today was not that day.
Which was why when the other CSIs left for the day, and he was just about to leave himself, she surprised him completely by doing the one thing he would not have expected in a million years.
“Drinks?” he repeated, the word a foreign concept to his muddled brain.
“I understand if you don’t want to, of course,” she continued, and he watched her as she spoke, completely dazed. “But I don’t think this is crossing any lines. Co-workers go out and have drinks all the time, I’ve heard.”
“Are others coming?” He frowned.
“Well, no, but I think that’s alright. It’s not like we’re going to go home with each other, is it?”
His eyes bulged, and she seemed to be aware of what had just tumbled out of her mouth as well, but for whatever reason, she didn’t take it back.
“No.”
“No, you don’t want to come or no-”
“No, we won’t be going home with each other,” he finished, blushing fiercely.
“Oh. Right. So…you’ll come?”
He swung his briefcase over his shoulder as he stood up.
“I’ll come.”
“Jimmy’s? I heard he’s the best.”
Barry winced.
“What?”
“Well, he’s good, no doubt. But it’s also where everyone goes, and I’m guessing you don’t want this looking like a…”
“A what?”
“A…” He wrapped his hand around the back of his head.
“Spit it out, Allen.”
“A date.”
“Oh.” She flushed. “Right. Of course not. Where would you like to go then?”
“There’s a place close to my house. Not that that matters of course. I didn’t mean anything by the location. You should understand that right off the-”
“Allen?”
“Yes?”
“What’s it called?”
“Tommy’s Pub. And it’s good. It’s really good.”
“Alright. Tommy’s Pub, it is. Shoot me the address, and I’ll meet you there.”
She turned to leave, and he reached for her elbow.
“Uh, before you go…I’m going to need your phone number first.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“To send you the address?”
“Oh.” Her face smoothed over. “Of course.”
He pulled out his phone and waited for her to recite the number to him, which she did.
“Delete it after tonight, Allen.”
She poked his chest hard, and if he wasn’t mistaken, gave a tiny smirk before turning away.
“I don’t want any surprise calls asking me how I’m doing.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, and she sent him what could almost be described as a flirtatious look over her shoulder before heading out of his lab.
But that was impossible.
She was his closed-off co-worker, and she had no interest in him in anything but a professional sense.
Right?
…
He found her in the back booth that ironically he usually occupied when he came for a visit. He worried of course that he would be so much later than her, and by the look on her face, he was. She even already had a drink in front of her. Hopefully it was only her first.
“Sorry,” he muttered, sliding into the booth.
“No worries,” she said, but her smile, if you could call it that, was a flat line.
“I’ll get the next one,” he said, signaling for a waiter to come bring him a drink.
“You planning on getting me drunk, Allen?”
“What?” His mouth ran dry. “No, I, uh…of course not!”
“Good. So you won’t be buying that next drink then.”
He licked his lips.
“I suppose I won’t.”
He sank into his seat, taking a short sip of his beer after it was delivered, and waiting. This had already gotten off to an awkward start. He would not mess it up further by speaking again too soon.
“Sorry,” Iris blurted.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’m being too…stern. I need to work on that.”
He blinked.
“The truth is you were right about me last week.”
“I was?”
She nodded.
“I needed someone to talk to, because one of the cases did trigger me, and because I’m stubborn I didn’t want to admit that to someone I barely know.”
“We’ve worked together for a long time now, Detective West.”
“And yet you still call me Detective West. Even off the job.”
He blushed.
“I didn’t want to cross any lines. I…” He took a deep breath, preparing to risk it all. “Like you.”
She looked at him quizzically, so he decided to rein it back in.
“As a person, a colleague. I like lots of people actually. Most people in the office. My best friend, Kara… My dad…”
“Allen.”
“Yes?”
She raised her eyebrows.
“Right. I’m rambling.”
She attempted a smile.
“I’ve put up a lot of walls because of what happened to my parents, to me, to my brother.” She licked her lips. “And what I’ve learned in the last week is that when you put up that many walls, you sometimes burn some bridges along the way, and then you’re left alone with no one. Nothing but what you surround yourself with. And in my case, that’s work.” She paused, mulling over what she was trying to say. “Work doesn’t give you pep talks or a warm hug or talk to you late at night when you’re feeling lonely and depressed.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “People do that.” She flicked her glance up to his. “You tried to do that.”
He held her gaze.
“I’m sorry I turned you down.”
He brushed it off.
“It’s okay, Detecti-”
She gave him a pointed look.
“Iris,” he finished, smiling a little sappily. “We barely know each other, as you said. I shouldn’t have expected you to jump up and down with excitement at my offer.”
She raised her eyebrows, amused.
“I hardly do that period.”
“To a fresh start?” he asked, lifting his glass.
“To new beginnings.”
She smiled and lifted her glass, clinking it against his. They each took a sip and set their glasses down.
“So, do you want to talk now or…do you need a distraction?”
She licked her lips.
“You know, I came in tonight wanting to spill all my guts out to you, to burden someone else with everything I’ve been holding inside for years, to talk about the nightmares, the screams…”
Barry frowned, overcome by what she was spilling already.
Iris fixed her gaze on him.
“But I think I’m still a little afraid of saying it out loud.”
He nodded knowingly.
“I understand.”
“So, what do we do instead?” she asked helplessly, wondering if this had been a total waste of time for both of them.
“We could play a game,” he suggested.
Iris tilted her head, intrigued.
“Such as?”
He gestured behind her to the pair of guys that had just finished up their round of darts.
“I haven’t played that in years,” she confessed, and he grinned, scooting out of the booth and then standing to his feet.
“Luckily for you, I am an excellent teacher.”
He extended his hand, and to his surprise she took it.
“Let’s go play some darts.”
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[14] What About After High School? (Tim Riggins x OFC)
MASTERLIST | DWHI MASTERLIST
Warnings: none
Words: 1.6k
I woke up to Tim stretching his arm over me. His cheek rubbed against my head after he settled again. I blinked my eyes open but refused to move. I wasn't quite ready to get up and out of Tim's embrace.
I nuzzled my nose against his collarbone, taking a deep breath. He groaned and laid on his back. I pressed against his side and watched his chest rise and fall. I traced figures on his torso, loving how smooth his skin felt under my fingertips. I heard him breathe out my full name in response, but he seemed to be asleep still.
It was my phone that stirred him. His head jerked up and he rubbed his eyes. He drank a lot the night before, so he fell back as I crawled over him to get my phone. It was Jason Street.
"Hey, Street," I said, letting my body rest across Tim. Even in sleep, his hand found my butt.
"Is Tim with you?"
I looked back at the sleeping football player. "Yeah."
Jason sighed. "Can you tell him he's supposed to be over here helpin' with the house? Billy and Herc aren't here and I can't do this alone."
"I'll do my best to get him over there."
"Thanks, Catherine."
I hung up and got off of Tim. I slipped on his flannel shirt from the day before and climbed back onto Tim. I brushed his hair back and kissed his forehead. He stirred, blinked a few times, and relaxed again. I frowned and shook his shoulder. He still didn't wake up.
"Tim." His head moved. "Tim, wake up. Jason is askin' for ya to get over to the house. You have to get it finished."
"Mmm."
"If you don't get up, Riggins, I won't let you touch me for a long time." He sleepily reached out, but I leaped off of the bed. "Come on. Get up. My threat still stands. If you're not out of my bed by the time I get back with water and some aspirin, you're gonna be out of luck."
My threat worked because he was sitting on the edge of my bed when I came back. He rubbed his face and smiled at me. I gave him the water and pain meds that he promptly ingested before pulling me close. Tim caressed my stomach with his face while I brushed his hair with my fingers.
"You gotta get to the house today, Tim. You're almost done, so you might finish today."
"Wanna help us?" Tim looked up at me. "You're pretty good with paint, ya know."
"Wow, I never would have guessed." I bent over to kiss him. "Sure. I'll come help."
"And wear that, please," he said, tugging at his shirt. "You look real nice in it."
"I'm gonna wear pants, Tim."
His fingers trailed along my legs. "You'll still wear it though?"
I looked at it. "If you don't care about paint gettin' on it..."
"I don't care. I'll be too busy rememberin' this mornin' to care."
"What happened this morning?"
Tim wasted little time getting me back on my bed and showing me exactly what he'd be thinking about. He didn't even remove his shirt from my body.
*****
Jason calmed down by lunch when Billy and Herc finally showed up. I was sitting between Tim's legs eating a sandwich when they walked in. Jason put them to work immediately while we finished our food.
I jumped when Tim's hand slid around to my stomach, a finger slipping between the buttons of the shirt. He ran his finger along the skin he could reach, giving me goosebumps. I looked over my shoulder at him when I could clearly tell he was getting turned on. He pulled my hair away from my neck and pressed his lips there. I couldn't resist leaning into him and letting my eyes shut.
"Really, Riggins?"
I jumped again from Jason's tone, refusing to meet his stare.
"We're on break, Six."
"Feeling up your girlfriend probably isn't the best thing to be doin' on your break."
I sat up straighter to put a little space between us. "If it's a problem, I'll go. I'm not here to distract Tim. I'll work in a different room."
Jason sighed. "No, don't go. Keep your hands to yourself, Riggins."
"We'll see," Tim said. He wrapped both arms around my middle and pulled me back against him.
*****
The sun was long gone by the time we finished painting. All of us sat in a circle in the living room, drinking the case of beer Billy went out to grab when they finished the case from the morning.
I took a sip from Tim's beer, not wanting to drink much. He watched me as I handed it back. He surprised me with a soft kiss on my lips. My face warmed along with my heart.
"Get a room," Herc said. "I've been watchin' you two horny teenagers all day and I'm about ready to turn to God."
The guys laughed. Tim grinned and I stuck my tongue out at Herc.
"You're just jealous." I wrapped my arms around Tim's shoulders.
"Yeah, I'm jealous of a couple of high school sweethearts who will be over by graduation."
My face fell and I hid it against the side of Tim's head. I didn't want to think about it with graduation so close. College was on the horizon and I didn't know where'd we go or what we'd do.
"Herc," Jason warned.
Tim rubbed my arm. I barely felt it, barely heard the guys start talking about selling the house. Herc placed the thought back in my head and I couldn't think of anything else.
I kissed the spot beside Tim's ear and told him I needed a few minutes away. He watched me as I stood. All of them did. I glanced back at Tim as I started upstairs to give him a small smile. I heard Billy hound Herc on his comment before I shut myself in a room.
I sat in the center of the room, staring at the white walls for a while. I laid back and closed my eyes.
Herc was right. What would happen to us come graduation? Where was I going to go? Where would Tim go? Would he even go to college? We could be in separate states and I wasn't so sure I wanted that. Tim was a huge part of my life and I didn't want him absent during the most difficult part.
I felt tears forming and my chin tremble. I laid my arm across my eyes and tried to calm down. I didn't want Tim to worry about me or our future with his last chance to go State nearing. The Panthers were playing great. Tim was playing great. Worrying about us was the last thing he needed.
I didn't move with the door opened and then closed. The way his boots shuffled across the floor told me it was Tim.
He took a seat next to me, placing his hand on my stomach. "I'm sorry about Herc, Cat. He says a lot of things without thinkin'."
"Do you think he's right?" I uncovered my face and stared at the ceiling. "Do you think graduation is the end for us?"
Tim said my name as he hovered over me. He kissed my lips and wiped away the drying tears on my face. "I don't know."
It made my heart stop and breath come short. Tim saw the panic in my eyes and held me close.
"I don't know because I can't see the future. I promised you back in Mexico that we'd stay together until we couldn't. I'm not seein' an end for us anytime soon, Barton. If you go off to college, I'll visit every chance I get. I'll still be here when you come back. Hell, I'll move into a place with you wherever you go if you want."
My laugh was more like a sob.
"We're gonna be fine, Catherine."
I brushed his hair back. "What about college for you? Don't you want to go?"
He chuckled. "I'm not lookin' around for anything."
"You're doing great with football, so you could get a scholarship."
"I don't care either way." Tim kissed my forehead.
"Why can't I stay here with you then? I don't have to go to college. I'll be 18 before this year is over, so my parents can't force me to go if I don't want to."
"No. You should go to college. You want to go to college. You'd hate it here if you stayed for me."
"No, I wouldn't." I sighed and kissed him. "Would you really come with me though?"
"Yeah."
"Even if I go somewhere cold?"
"We'll just have skin to skin contact to stay warm."
"What about if it's hotter than Texas?" I started unbuttoning Tim's shirt.
"We'll be naked all the time."
I giggled and kissed his chest. "I love you, Tim."
Tim's lips were on mine again. "I love you, too, Catherine."
#fnl#fridaynightlights#friendship#highschool#love#ofc#originalcharacter#originalfemalecharacter#romance#timriggins#timrigginsxoc#tvshow#fnl fanfiction#Friday night lights fanfiction#Tim riggins fanfiction
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