#and like i said before i think i prefer the winning the league situation instead of the playoff setup | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

viola-stars · 2 years

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Future of Johto League

Continuation of the post here

Realized if we go further into the future, things in Johto League is bound to change such as gym leaders and Elite Four!

So here is my take!! I’m always down to hear opinions!

As I said in the previous link, Silver is now the champion of Johto [see link above if you want to know more details!]

In terms of Elite Four, I believe Koga transfers to Kanto [once Agatha ends up retiring!] and Bruno stays with Kanto only, not being a part of Johto anymore.

Now, you may ask— what about the other spots for the Elite Four members? So, I gave it a few thinking.

My first choice was Claire tbh, she is perfect for being an Elite Four member and people have told her that she's as strong as as Elite Four member but I realized that leaves Blackthorn City without a gym leader. I believe that Claire would have prefer staying in Blackthorn, so that is what she does instead of being part of the Wlite Four. [Don't worry, she matured as a gym leader as well— If you win, you win! She gives the badge but also informs you about the Dragon's Den, noting this is where you can catch a Dratiny].

So my second choice I had was Whitney— I'd actually believe it if it were to get down to it. She's talented, she has been chosen by the league before and I won't be surprised if she were chosen again. She's be the Elite Four member wit a second job— [Like how Shauntel had one in Unova!] She will be a Pokeathlete! She also matured as she got older, she does feel really bad about her Pokemon getting injured but she makes people proceed to the area anyway, probably crying only once the person leaves. She still has her heart worn on her sleeve, but she can control it better.

I was sincerely hoping I can use Morty— he was my third choice. However, I think he had a similarity with Claire. I feel like Morty would prefer being in Ecruteak gym because he would want to be there for the place, especially because he dedicated his life towards Ho-Oh and he finds the place too memorable just to leave it and also I feel like being a Future Seer and all that, Ecruteak is well known for its tradition and its gym leader too.

You see, my other choice was Jasmine— but same problem with Claire and Morty, she would probably prefer to stay. Hear me out— she is a lighthouse keeper inside her city and she takes care of a sickly Ampharos. I feel like she would stay in case of an emergency or the like.

So this makes me with only the following: Falkner, Bugsy, Pryce and Chuck.

I fully believe Pryce would retire from then, just like Agatha, but it is because of age. Meanwhile Chuck is still a gym leader in his location because he wants to be in the place where he is used to training and he wants to be close to his family, much more now that he is getting older.

I fully believe Bugsy would have taken the spot [have you seen how strong he is with his strongest team in those YouTube videos???? Yeah.] But I actually think be retire to follow his dreams which is to be a Professor/Assistant Professor. Which he ends up doing after Professor Oak retires from old age.

So yes, this ends up in this kind of situation where I think Falkner ends up as an Elite Four member with his own Pokemon, not his father's. I was thinking for a long time if he had a connection to Violet City, but as far as I know, he doesn't have a certain connection unlike the rest besides him replacing the gym for his father's absence and there was no hints that he loved Violet as much as Claire cares for Blackthorn or how important Ecruteak is to Morty, or even how Jasmine needs to stay in Olivine.

So yeah, Falkner is the next Elite Four member, exceeding expectations of everyone after taking a break from gym leaders for a while just to get stronger at times while catching as much Bird Pokemon he can and he ends up being a great gym leader. Before any argument of his Flying specialist— Consider, Kahili from Alola is a Flying Type Specialist and an Elite Four member. So I believe Falkner can do it too. His Mud-Slap and Roost thing already shows that he has some kind of possibility, as some people do find that troublesome- imagine if he had a better strategy and a better team. That would have made him perfect for the job.

Now my problem is— there are missing spots for gym leaders. There is Violet, Azalea, Goldernrod and Mahogany.

I do not have any noteworthy trainers in the top of my head besides Eusine and the Kimono Girls which are all from Ecruteak City. HOWEVER. I think someone from the Kimono girls can replace one of them if and ONLY if they find a successor. As of now I am torn between Flareon, Vaporeon or Jolteon because they wouldn't have matching types. Depending on who it is doesn't change the fact that I think they would be in Violet— first off, I think it is the most traditional city besides Ecruteak and secondly, it is also the closest city to it if I am not mistaken.

The other three gyms honestly, I have no idea. However, I do have types in mind.

Grass, Water, Ice, Electric and Poison.

Goldenrod contains Electric because it fits the booming of Goldenrod and the vibe of it, Water/Ice for Mahogany because it is depicted as a small town— added to that, it did have an ice gym leader before. And for Azalea, Poison because of it having so much Slowbros, I was thinking of how in future generations it is poison instead of Psychic, and I think the possibility is neat.

Now that I eliminate it, it leaves me making the Violet gym, the one with the kimono girl, stick with Flareon. I just realized that. That's neat!

However, I feel like the gym placements would also change, not too much, but maybe a few things.

First would be Azalea only because I feel like a Kimono Girl is experienced in pokemon battling. I think they deserve a higher spot. So first gym being a poison specialist? That's actually really neat.

Second would be Goldenrod. That's also neat because Electric type is second, and you get to experience a wild ride. Seems promising so far!

Third would be Violet! I really believe the gym leader would deserve this spot, given that they were a kimono girl.

Fourth, you would get to travel to Ecruteak but you cannot fight the gym leader yet, probably have to go to Mahogany First perhaps? This is my only problem but it is for map reasons. But hey, Ice/Water specialist! Dont know yet but they're there. I feel like you may get the TM Fly somewhere in Mahogany to help fix this problem.

Fifth would be Ecruteak, then Cianwood AND Olivine will still be interchangeable! And then you can try and go to Blackthorn.

Now, on the topic of League— Elite Four placements would be

Falkner

Whitney

Will

Karen

There you go! A complete set of League and its positions!

But yes, these are my thoughts!

#johto #johto elite four #johto gym leaders #gym leader falkner #gym leader bugsy #gym leader whitney #gym leader morty #gym leader jasmine #gym leader pryce #gym leader chuck #gym leader claire #elite four will #elite four koga #elite four bruno #elite four karen #these are just my thoughts and hcs bc brainrot but yes #idk how accurate these are but hm #i actually thought of Janine for it but then I think she wants to stay in the gym her father used to be in until she exceeds him??#my concern was double typing and then I remembered Chuck and Bruno Double Typing so i cant really complain #but I feel also Janine would stay until she exceeds her father??#and Koga is right there still being an Elite Four in Kanto so #oh and fifth to first???#that's not gonna be nice to look at :')))#unless i change the things but personally #yeah #in my kanto brainrot she moves higher but still below Sabrina tho

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koutarousangel · 3 years

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━ safety net.

prompt : “You can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen, cause guess what? It did!” + “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me” ( with some creative liberties hehe )

genre : angst + fluff

warnings : couple o’ swears, mentions of pillowtalk

music suggestion : safety net - ariana grande ft. ty dolla $ign

author’s note : requested by myself cause i want to write angst and tumblr’s mean enough to not be putting my stuff in the tags :(((

going to argentina was a chance to start over, a fresh start in a new country, a new job with potential to meet new people ; breaking away from the chains that came with living in your home country.

your love for sports as you were growing up paved the way for you to become a sports reporter and while in argentina, you’d been assigned to the serie a1 of the volleyball league for the season.

a lot of people praise you for your warm nature and making people feel comfortable even though an interview after a stressful game wasn’t really something that was appreciated by much.

except for one player, oikawa tōru.

he was always enthusiastic to come and speak to you, charm oozing out of him, paired with the gorgeous smile that practically stole the hearts of whoever saw it.

you interacted a couple of times before he asked you on an actual date, and you were quick to oblige, excited to be spending time with the charming man outside of a professional setting.

the chemistry between you was so strong that you ended up in bed together ........ a couple of times ......

but when you start to catch feelings, and interviewing him always brought a blush to your cheeks, you decide to cut ties.

or ... try to at least.

you were a professional, in fact you’d always been praised for the way you held yourself, made the people you were interviewing completely at ease, so much so that you always got the most interesting answers which in turn helped you in writing the best articles. most of your co-workers gazed upon you with jealousy whenever your boss sung praises of your beautifully researched and written work. the jealous gazes were usually brushed off, ignored, but when rumours that you were sleeping around with the people you were interviewing started swirling around, the gazes started to burn and the words stung.

especially since you knew that they weren’t rumours at all.

your relationship with oikawa tōru was a partial reason as to why you’d asked a colleague you trusted to take up your spot to interview him, choosing to speak to anyone else other than him. The colleague in question had raised his eyebrow in confusion, since the articles and interviews with ca san juan’s number 17 were some of your best works, but you’d waved it off, offering no explanation.

because how were you going to explain that the reason that you felt so comfortable speaking to the athlete was because the two of you had formed a connection, went on some of the best dates you’d ever been on and fell into bed with him on numerous occasions ... sometimes not even making it to either of your beds at all.

those were only some of the reasons why, but the biggest reason was definitely because now, whenever you were in his presence, you could feel your heart swell with adoration and you practically melted whenever he said your name. your heart became an olympic gymnast in your chest with the amount of backflips it performed whenever he glanced over at you during a match, sending a wink your way before serving the ball so hard and quick, his opponents didn’t even realise what’d happened.

you were scared that your feelings were clouding your judgement, and you were no longer impartial and unbiased, and you needed to put your work first because that was what was keeping you happy in argentina.

there weren’t really set regulations in your contract against being with people that you were interviewing, in fact you knew numerous people in the very company that you worked at who were either dating or married to people that they’d interviewed before, but the fact that the others looked at you with such disdain and disgust, you couldn’t help but let it get to your head.

that meant purposefully missing his calls, sitting out of interview opportunities where he was involved and ditching the date that the two of you had planned. the guilt was eating you alive, but being upfront and confronting the issue wasn’t something that was your strong suit. running away, that was more of the preferred approach.

the game was almost finished and you’d made sure to sit away from his line of sight, keeping your gaze on your notebook and only looking up to pick up on what was happening so that you’d be able to gauge your questions appropriately. you’d caught oikawa trying to look for you multiple times and you swore you could feel your heart drop to your feet whenever he frowned and turned his focus back to the game. doing this felt horrible, but ultimately it was better for the both of you.

when the final whistle sounded, the game ending in a close win for ca san juan, your feet made a direct beeline towards their coach, and you were greeted with a bright smile from the man as you were known to ask respectful and intelligent questions and people were genuinely excited to speak with you, the coach being no exception.

as the short interview went on, you asking about team rotations and what the mindset throughout the game was, you could feel a pair of eyes burning into the back of your skull, unrelenting and persistent and as you dared to glance back, you were met with a pair of sad, brown eyes, swimming with questions. it seemed like he’d opted out of the interview, letting one of his other teammates take over and was instead sitting on a bench, recovery drink in hand, towel around his neck. you’d thought that he’d seem more angry about how everything had transpired, but overall, he looked more disappointed than anything and that stung even more.

“thank you for the interview, it was lovely speaking with you,” smiles and handshakes were exchanged, finalizing the interview with the coach and only letting the nervous puff of air blow past your lips after he’d walked away. you turned to look at your colleague, offering him a small smile and a thumbs up when you saw that he was carrying on with his interview.

you were preoccupied with packing up your stuff when you felt a hand encircling your forearm, and a slight tug on it almost made you lose your footing. the protests that were on the tip of your tongue never even left your mouth as you instantly recognized the back of oikawa’s head, pursing your lips and putting your free hand against your face, trying to shield it from any onlookers as you let him tug you along to wherever he wanted to take you. you felt like you owed him as much after treating him like you had.

even though his grip was unrelenting, you could tell that he obviously had no intention to hurt you, because his fingers weren’t even gripped around your arm, so you could tug it free at any point but you’d secretly wanted to talk to him, you just didn’t have the guts to do it.

the moment that you were in a deserted gym hallway, you backed yourself against the wall, trying your hardest to make yourself small and looking away from his face, biting so hard on your bottom lip, you were scared that it was going to split.

“i’m sorry,” the apology made you furrow your eyebrows and you finally looked up at the man. he had an almost panicked look in his eyes, like he had no idea how to approach the situation and he’d just let his impulsivity take over, “i’m sorry if i said or did something to hurt you … i definitely didn’t mean it and you definitely deserve better.”

as the brunet continued to speak, blurting out apology after apology, it was as if a hand was clamping itself around your heart, making it ache even more than it already had been. “tōru …” the soft whisper of his name hadn’t been enough to stop him from ranting any further, “tōru!” a more firm uttering of his name did, mouth left ajar and chest practically heaving up and down, “it’s not your fault ...” you were finally looking up at the man.

this didn’t soothe him, and instead he scoffed and threw his arms up, eyes shining with unfallen tears, “then what the fuck is going on?” desperation laced his voice as he kept his eyes on you, and you almost looked away again, but for his sake, you didn’t, “you’re not returning my calls or texts, you stood me up at the bar, you’ve refused to interview me on three separate occasions,” every fact that he pointed out felt like another knife plunged into your chest, guilt and disappointment in yourself settling among the blades, “if it is something i did, please tell me … but you can’t pretend that nothing happened, because guess what? a lot happened and i’m not about to let it go.”

the work ethics and rumours weren’t the elephant in the room, they were all an excuse to hide the real reason as to why you’d try to push the man in front of you away.

it was your feelings that were making you want to run away because you were terrified that he didn’t feel the same, that you would look like a fool in front of this man who’s smile and laugh you’d fallen in love with. the man who everyone knew as the ca san juan setter with a cocky attitude and a killer serve but you had found out that there was so much more than that.

“i love your smile,” your voice was a gentle whisper as you ran your finger over his lips, free fingers grabbing at the sheet that slipped down your arm as you moved. pillowtalk wasn’t something that you sought, because more often than not, it turned out to be awkward and forced, but with oikawa, it was different, like a second nature.

he grabbed your wrist and held your hand against his face, lips placing a quick kiss on your palm before turning into a mischievous smirk, “i love your everything,” his flirty comment made you roll your eyes and take your hand back to flick his forehead, listening to him start to whine before you silenced him with a kiss, hands going to either side of his face. you were smitten, hopelessly so, and it was then when doubts started to leak through into your thoughts.

when you pulled away and tried to formulate a plan on how to get out of it all, he started to speak again, “you know, i almost quit volleyball,” he picked up your hand again and started to toy with your fingers, eyes avoiding yours as you gazed up at him with a furrowed brow, “there were so many doors slammed in my face that at one point i was like ‘maybe this isn’t for me’, can you believe that?” his voice was filled with raw emotion, like it was the first time in a long while that he was pouring his feelings out like this to someone, “but i’m glad i didn’t stop and take up some other job, otherwise i wouldn’t have met you.”

“i think i’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me!” you finally blurted out, hands slapping over your mouth as your eyes widened in panic. the statement that’d escaped hung in the air, looming over both of your heads. your mouth suddenly felt dry as you looked at him, praying that he’d say something, but his eyebrows were knit together in confusion and you felt your heart sinking to your stomach, “i’m sorry … i should go.”

you didn’t even make it two steps past the man before he grabbed your wrist again, halting you from moving. “is that all?” came his voice, confusing the everliving fuck out of you.

“is that… is that all?” you questioned, absolutely dumbfounded as you let a mix between a scoff and a chuckle escape your lips, a clear sign of nervousness at how this all was going to transpire. on one hand, you didn’t want to cut ties with him, because of the way he made you feel, but you understood if the feelings weren’t mutual and you weren’t one to pine after anyone “what’s that supposed to mean?” you dared to look at him...

and oikawa had the biggest, stupidest grin on his face, eyes swimming with endearment, “i’ve known i loved you since the moment you decided it was a good idea to try and impress me with all those tequila shots on our first night out, all because i called you ‘serious’,” you felt the bridge of your nose burn at the memory, how he’d carried you home because you were practically swaying on your feet.

“or that time i woke up in the morning and i found you in one of my shirts, making coffee and singing along with the radio,” a chuckle left his lips as he pulled you closer, and you allowed him, letting your hands rest on his chest as you looked up at him with a small, embarrassed smile on your face, “it was never a fling to me …” he shrugged, “after-game interviews became significantly better when you were doing them.”

all the self-doubt and worry melted away as soon as you pulled his face down to meet yours in a sweet kiss, fingers raking through his hair and settling on the back of his head, while his own tugged you closer from your hips. you didn’t care that there was a lingering taste of sweat thanks to the game that he’d just finished, or that you could hear the voices of his teammates growing louder and louder in the corridor. it was just you and him.

“hey, the car's leaving and we have to head … back...” your colleague’s voice made you abruptly pull away from the kiss, causing tōru to chase your lips with his eyes closed, almost as if he were caught in a trance and hadn’t realised that you’d been ‘caught’. you placed your hand against his lips to stop him from moving forward, and it was at that point that his eyes shot open and he pulled away, scratching the back of his head.

your cheeks burned a bright pink as your colleague looked at you with the biggest smirk on his face, “i could ask them to wait …” your eyes fluttered shut at the teasing and you shook your head.

“i’ll be right there,” you spoke, giving him a small smile and him returning it with a look that said you have to tell me everything, before he nodded his head and spun on his heel, giving you another teasing wave as he walked out of the building.

you felt a kiss being pressed to the palm of your hand before it was nudged out of the way, and you turned to look at oikawa, who’s mischievous grin had settled on his face, “i better go … bet coach wants to talk to us about the highs and lows of the game, plus i need a shower,” he grimaced, the bridge of his nose scrunching slightly, causing you to let out a small giggle, “i have something to ask you though,” he spoke, before pressing another quick kiss to your lips, “please answer the damned phone … i hate getting ghosted.”

#oikawa x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #oikawa tooru #tooru oikawa #hq x reader #oh gods of tumblr pls allow this into the tags

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nepenthendline · 4 years

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Could you write a oneshot where reader is with Kagayama (either established relationship or not yet) and Oikawa keeps flirting with her to rile up his cute kouhai (just for jokes or seriously pursuing reader like an ass idk you choose) and Kags gets jealous and a little bit possessive? thank u! (i asked a couple others for this request as well so please don’t feel pressured if you’re not feeling the prompt!) (um also could we get some slight nsfw up in here??🥵)

Oikawa is written to be an asshole in this so please be warned I don’t think he is that much of a dick lol I hope you enjoy! Warning for a tiny bit of nsfw if you squint, like a nandos lemon and herb on the spice level

Requests are open!

Oikawa flirting with Kageyama’s S/O

You were at the Sendai City Gymnasium to support your boyfriend, Kageyama, is his first round of premlims. He had played amazingly; he kept calm and tossed with precision, keeping everyone’s preferred tosses in mind and got on well (as well as he could) with the rest of the team. They had won by a landslide so you headed out into the gym hallway to greet and praise him.

Seijoh had finished their match earlier in the day than Karasuno, so the team sat in the stands, eyeing up their future opponents. All their eyes were trained on the players, picking apart their skills and plays to add to their rival log.

“That’s it, I’m bored now, let’s leave Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whined, standing up and shuffling Iwaizumi out of the gym, into the hallway. As much as he didn’t like to admit, he hated watching his underclassman play well, not to mention win matches. His mind was running was thoughts of how he could crush Kageyama, preferably in a match but breaking his spirit wouldn’t hurt either. As he walked through the hallway, he noticed a familar face leaning against the wall.

Now, Kageyama himself had never told him about his girlfriend himself, but he likes to keep up with the gossip around the King, in the hopes that he was performing poorly to boost Oikawa’s ego. Also, he had seen a post on instagram of the two of you together, you kissing his cheek, so he knew for sure you were the rumoured girlfriend.

“Hey Iwa-chan, mind getting me a drink from the vending machine? All the playing has made me thirsty,” his eyes were trained on you as he spoke. Iwaizumi grumbled about how he could get it himself but left anyway. When he was gone, Oikawa waltzed up to you and leaned on the wall next to you.

“What’s a cutie like you doing out here? Did you come to see my match, hmm?” Oikawa teased, bending down to your level

“Uhh...n-no I just watched the Karasuno match...” Kageyama had warned you about this guy. You didn’t know much about him but, from what your boyfriend had told you, he meant bad news.

“Karasuno? You should come watch my match tomorrow instead. Trust me, you’ll like what you see way better than their playground activities. You need to see a team with actual talent, not some brainless crows.” He spoke with disgust.

You were pissed, how dare he talk about your schools team like that? As much as you wanted to knock him down a peg, you were intimidated as he towered over you,

“T-that’s ok thank you, I’m happy watching them,” your voice shook as you waved your hands in front of you. He lent over you with his arm against the wall, blocking you in and his face came closer to your ear,

“Hmm, are you sure about that? You know I can do way better things than that King. It won’t be long before he decides he doesn’t need you anymore and toss you aside anyway, so you might as well entertain me a little. I’ve got the perfect spot for you to sit, right on my lap-”

He was interrupted by a force pulling him away from you by his arm. He was half expecting Iwaizumi to be standing here, ready to give him a beating, but as he turned around, he saw dark, glaring eyes and a clenched jaw that belonged to his kouhai,

“Ah Tobio-chan, I’d say it’s nice to see you but it’s not. See, you just interrupted my chat with this cutie right here and I think we were getting along lovely,” Oikawa said with a smirk plastered on his face.

“Get away from her,”

“What?? Is the King jealous? She’s way out of your league anyway,” he continued with his teasing, as if they were widely known facts. Kageyama let out a deep growl from this throat and lunched forward to grab Oikawa by the collar of his team jacket. He probably would have punched the living daylights out of him if the rest of the Karasuno team hadn’t walked by. Iwaizumi had also chosen the best time to return, running over to tend to the situation. With Daichi pulling Kageyama back, and Iwaizumi smacking Oikawa upside the head, you took your chance move away, running back to safety by Sugawara. Iwaizumi dragged Oikawa away by his shirt and an onlaught of comments about how stupid he is.

“Bye cutie-chan! I’ll see you later!” Oikawa called out with a wave and a grin, proceeding to be hit by Iwaizumi again.

Daichi had released Kageyama from his grasp. He stood still in place, his fists clenched and his teeth grinding against each other. His body was shaking slightly with rage.

“I think you might need to go calm him down Y/N, maybe take him outside for some air,” Sugawara suggested. You agreed and slowly walked over to your boyfriend, grabbing his hand and uncurling it from his angered grip. You were about to ask if he was ok when he stormed off, pulling you behind him.

“Where are we going, Tobio?” you tried questioning but it fell on deaf ears. The two of you found yourself back at the locker-room Karasuno had used during their last match. It was still empty as the next lot of matched weren’t until later in the afternoon. Dragging you in, he shut the door and faced away from you, his nails going back to their places in his palms.

“Tobio...Baby...I’m ok, it’s ok. He didn’t mean it I’m sure, and his friend was angry too so-” your words got stuck in your throat as he turned and made his way to you. You had never seen someone look so intimidating before, not even with your recent run-in with the Seijoh player. You backed up as he came, but you soon hit the cold metal of the lockers behind you.

“Tobio, it’s ok, he’s gone now, you don’t need to worry. I’m all yours,” you tried soothing him, but his eyes widened at your last words.

“Say that again,”

“H-huh?”

“Tell me you’re all mine,” his hands were now resting on the lockers on each side of your waist. You expected yourself to be scared of him right now; the way he looked at you as if you were a piece of meat he was going to devour. The way his eyes darkened, and his slightly damp hair fell over his tense brow. You could feel electric sparks running through your body,

“I’m yours Tobio, I’m all yours,” as soon as you finished, he rammed his lips against yours in a heated, rushed kiss. His hands had grabbed hold of your hips, pulling them to hold with his own body as he continued to kiss you.

“All mine. You are all mine,” he chanted, before dipping his head to your neck. He licked and sucked harshly at your skin, making your head tilt back in pleasure.

“Oikawa can’t treat you like I can. He can’t make you feel good like I can. You are all mine, and I win this time.”

#its so easy to write oikawa as an asshole oops #ellie is never going to get the oikawa fluff she deserves #haikyuu #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu drabbles #haikyū!!#Kageyama tobio #Kageyama x reader #Kageyama tobio x reader #Oikawa tooru

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danny-chase · 3 years

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if you want, maybe you could do "severed artery" with Dick and have Roy (or one of the other Titans) take care of him? love your writing and I hope you're having a nice day!

AHH thank you so much! I hope you enjoy!

Severed Artery - read on AO3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Titans (Comics), Nightwing (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Roy Harper & Dick Grayson Characters: Roy Harper, Dick Grayson, Garth (DCU), Donna Troy (minor) Additional Tags: Can be read as pre-slash, POV Roy Harper, POV Dick Grayson, vomitting, Blood, Guns, Hospitals, Canon-Typical Violence, dick is a little shit, Roy is a Little Shit, Homophobia, Roy Harper Needs a Hug, Roy Harper gets/gives a hug, Dick Grayson Whump, Roy Harper emotional whump, Protective Roy Harper, Hurt Dick Grayson, Garth is the best, Titans as family, Confused Dick Grayson, Medical Inaccuracies Series: Part 6 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

Dick and Roy are little shits to each other, until the night takes a turn for the worse.

Full story under cut

“Aight, Donna, you ready to go?” Roy chirped, taking a second to look himself over in the mirror, running his fingers through his (surprisingly) soft hair (he’d be stealing Dick’s shampoo more often) – getting that perfect messy, but stylish look. He fired off finger guns at his reflection – he was killing it, somehow listening to Gar of people had worked out – he gave shockingly good fashion advice.

Feeling optimistic, he sauntered into the hall, only to be met with Donna’s confused expression.

“Roy, I’m going out with the girls tonight, I told you like four times.” She leaned against the wall, gesturing to Jesse and Toni, car keys dangling from her hand. Jesse stared at him, an eyebrow cocked judgmentally, as Toni smiled, offering a little wave. He waved back, watching Jesse’s expression morph into disapproval.

“Hey, I didn’t even do anything!” He complained, glaring at Jesse. She rolled her eyes, not deigning to verbally respond. Ice queen.

Reaching out, Donna patted his shoulder, waiting until he met her eyes. “I’m sorry, hun, but we’ve got tickets to a concert, could we go out next weekend?” She fluttered her eyelids slightly, sending chills up his spine. “Why don’t you take one of the boys with you?”

“Terrible company, but babe, have fun, I’ll figure something out.” He cupped her chin in his hand, leaning forward to peck a kiss to the top of her head, ignoring the fact she squatted down to make the moment work.

“Mm, thanks.” With that, the girls were off for the night, leaving him stranded in a deserted hallway.

Well. He could do what Donna suggested and take out one of the guys – he had the reservation, and Lian was already situated with the sitter. But which guy was the question… Wally was out with the league, Garth was visiting home, Vic was with Gar, and Grant had a date. Which left Dick – no - Dick was busy working – actually yes – he likely needed a break.

Actually – was he even here?

He started towards the central control room, poking a head in Dick’s room on the way and had to do a double take.

“You’re actually in your room?” Dick threw a pencil at him without looking up from his desk, child’s play to dodge – Dick speak for hmm, maybe something like ‘asshole’, but he took it as an invitation to enter. But if Dick was going to call him an asshole, he had expectations to live up to.

He took a standing leap, twisting and flopping across Dick’s immaculately made bed, sending blankets and pillows careening off the side. Dick ignored him, scribbling down some notes on a pad of paper. Roy waited for a few minutes, listening to the scratch of pen on paper. Quick and noisy – Dick was likely stressed – he was pushing down harder than normal; he gave it an eighty/twenty chance something was up.

Ripping paper proved him right, as Dick frustratedly crumpled up the page of notes, throwing them behind him, hitting the recycling bin with ease. Groaning, he dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his eyes.

“Showoff.” Dick startled, jumping out of his chair, Roy’s own reflexes were the only thing that saved him from taking a pen between the eyes.

“What the fuck, Richard?!” He yelled, yanking the little missile out of the air. A faint flush tinted the top of Dick’s ears.

“I forgot you were there.” The admission was almost too quiet to hear, but combined with the minute sign of embarrassment, it rang of truth. Roy could milk this, oh he totally could.

“What was that, why did you almost kill me?” If he played his cards right, he wouldn’t be dining alone tonight.

“I didn’t think you were…” Dick trailed off, glaring at him. “You heard what I said.” He retorted, catching on. Sucks to suck, Dickie – he was obviously tired if that spooked him – he was likely running on caffeine.

“Oh, you misunderstand.” Scooching off the edge of the bed, he hopped lightly onto the balls of his feet. “Why’d the batboy forget I was there, hmm?” He pulled a half-eaten energy bar off the desk, inspecting the wrapper. Dick casually rocked back in his chair.

“See, completely decaf, I told you I’d-” Roy yanked open a drawer, Dick darting to stop him. “This is my desk!” He slammed the drawer shut a moment too late – Roy had good eyes after all.

“Hmm, so how do you explain the-”

“Get out, I have stuff to do – aren’t you supposed to be on a date with-”

“-CAFFIENE PILLS IN YOUR DRAWER!” He shouted through Dick’s response, effectively shutting him up. There’d been an intervention years ago after too many days spent on one hour or less of sleep. “You know the deal.” Dick groaned as he ruffled his hair.

“I have to-”

“Eat, shower, and sleep. And I have reservations. For two. You’re coming with me.” Ah yes, a romantic dinner date with Dick Grayson. People would kill for this. Dick crossed his arms. Roy picked up his chair, staggering towards the door. Dick was going whether he liked it or not, a real meal (not protein shakes or energy bars) would do him good.

“No one’s even done this to me in like, a year.” He noted, gracefully leaping out of the seat. “Asshole.” Grumbling he lightly punching him in the arm before heading into his walk-in closet, stripping off his shirt as he went. Automatically, Roy scanned for any new injuries, his eyes lingering over a few of the old.

“Liar, Wally caught you two months ago. Besides, the restaurant is nice, Donna likes it and you two are basically the same person, so you’ll love it.” Dick scoffed, stepping out of view.

“Is that all I am to you? Your replacement for Donna?” He sounded mildly offended.

“Nah, you’re too ugly to replace her.” Dick hmphed. “And your personality sucks.” Roy added.

“Why the hell am I going with you?”

“It’s not like your night could get any worse.” Dinner was better than casework after all.

Dick’s head poked out the doorway, looking completely unamused. “Asshole.” He chirped a second time, ducking back away.

Roy sat across from him, speaking between mouthfuls of pasta, smacking his lips together. “So anyways this kid, Johnny is like, sitting next to Lian in class, and he keeps taking her crayons and won’t give them back.” Dick thought for a moment, watching Roy drum his fingers rhythmically on the table. “And the teacher is being ridiculous, she just believes Johnny over Lian. My Lian! Can you believe it?” He slammed his fork down, articulating the point.

And you’re sure Lian gave you the whole story? Was what Dick wondered, but he’d prefer not to die for questioning Lian’s integrity tonight. “Why don’t you mark her crayons with a sharpie and let the teacher know?” Roy’s fingers stopped.

“Huh, hadn’t thought of that.” He leaned back in his seat, distantly looking out the window. People trickled down the street, passing by the little café, kicking up crimson leaves from half empty trees. Streetlights flickered on; fairy lights crisscrossing the avenue, as the sun lazily sunk in the sky. It was a beautiful night – Roy was right, he did love it, the food was good – catching up with Roy was refreshing – and the location was stunning; as always, Roy always picked the perfect places for dates. Dick was past the point of being annoyed at the situation but was still determined to give Roy a hard time.

“Well, maybe if you thought about that instead of harassing me.” He leaned forward, resting his head on his hand, dramatically looking out the window – Babs was going to kill him for being late with his case reports. Again. Roy smirked as he rocked forward, reaching across the table to lay a hand on his forearm. He at least had the decency to look apologetic.

“Look, you know the deal.” Brushing his thumb against his skin placatingly, he waited until Dick met his eyes. “You’re working full time, and have your nightly duties, and you’re with us.” His voice dropped, his nostrils flaring in irritation. “It’s not like you’ll leave Bruce alone any time soon either. Dick.” His eyes crinkled around the edges – concern. “You’ve got to start taking care of yourself.” Dick rolled his eyes; he was doing fine.

“You’re working with Ollie, you have a daughter, and you’re working with us, look I had one breakdown-”

“More than one-”

“-Only one that wasn’t the result of external influences.” Fuck Brother Blood for the other ones. “We made the caffeine deal after,” he grimaced reflexively “I broke up with Kory but, Roy.” He clasped Roy’s hand with his other hand reassuringly. “I promise I’m doing better now.” Tilting his head to the side, he cracked his neck. “Plus, you only brought me along because Donna was busy, that’s not what the deal was for.”

“Okay, maybe that was shitty of me, but it’s nice seeing you without the tights.” Roy flashed a winning smile. “Not that I don’t like seeing you in them, the new stuff looks great.”

“Oh, so I don’t look great now?” He teased. He’d picked out his brightest shirt for the occasion – a polo patterned after bowling alley carpet paired with the tightest red jeans he could find, and of course, a pair of heels borrowed from Donna. A single giant hoop earring dangled off his left ear. If he was going out with Roy, he wanted people taking pictures. Payback. This would be in the news tomorrow.

“Babe,” Roy lifted up his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “You look stunning.” He grinned goofily, seemingly happy to play along. Welp. If that’s how they were going to play it. He booped Roy’s nose, watching his pupils dilate. Dick recoiled in surprise – Roy wasn’t -

“Wait, you’re not actually-”

A scream cut him off, whirling around in his seat he saw a large man storming into the café brandishing a gun, his face red beet red and angry. He turned back, squeezing Roy’s hand, nodding towards the silverware.

“No-no one else move!” The guests around them stayed frozen in place. Three older ladies on their right, a family of four on their left (he guessed it was the young girl who screamed), and a couple across from them. The staff ducked behind the counter as people outside the restaurant scrambled away.

Dick raised his hands slowly. “I said no one move!” The gun pointed directly at him. Perfect.

“Okay, I won’t move.” He said steadily, watching sweat bead on the man’s head – he was nervous, his hands twitched uneasily on the gun – possibly his first time, and he kept muttering to himself. He watched Roy’s hand carefully creep towards silverware in his peripheral. “Do you want money? My father is rich.” Watching the man jitter about, he slowly stood up. Roy’s hand closed around the fork.

“Okay? You-you can get me money?” The man mused to himself, shifting his weight back and forth. He started lowering his gun, taking a step forward, he reached out his other hand. Dick took a few steps to the right, away from his chair, shifting attention away from Roy. “Okay the-”

*BANG* The world sped up around him, he rushed forward as the man fell-

*BANG* The man hadn’t even hit the ground – he was already dead – already-

“DICK-”

*BANG* Blood and brain matter poured out of the man’s head, someone was screaming, it didn’t need to-

*BANG*

“STOP!” Someone slammed into his side, and he hurtled to the ground. “HOLD YOUR FIRE!”

Roy’s face hovered above him. “Dick! You’re going to be fine.” His hands clamped napkins to his left shoulder, one on his front the other on his back – and shit – that was a lot of blood. “Hey, look at me.” Pain radiated out for the spot as Roy doubled the weight on the wound, blood seeping out past his fingers, waves pulsating in time to his heartbeat.

Cops burst in through the door, rushing to swarm the dead body. One glanced their way. “Oh shit, you hit the fa-”

“Fucking call an ambulance you dipshits!” Roy’s voice sounded farther away. “Slow your heart, fuck, do your Jedi weirdo bat tricks.” He hissed. Too late, sometimes, things happen too fast. “They hit an artery.” The blood wasn’t stopping, the napkin was soaked through, Dick felt himself slipping into shock. “Dick, stay awake!”

“Lo-ve y-ou.” He stumbled over the words as the world exploded – a million things happening at once – his thoughts scattering as black tinged his vision, overcoming everything.

Roy scrubbed his hands, pausing over the sink, watching the pink water rush down the drain, gurgling as it went. He rubbed a hand further, tackling the blood crusted over his elbow. He made a mistake of catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror –Dick’s blood was everywhere, coating his shirt, arms, pants, even some on his face. His stomach flipped, clenching tightly as he started to gag - fuck.

Throwing himself over the toilet, dinner rising back up in his throat, he threw up the seat. Shaking, he held himself over the porcelain toilet, fingertips staining it red, as he heaved. Soap bubbles dripped from his hands over the edge of the bowl, spattering on the ground.

Each drop spurred a recollection of the night’s events.

*Plop* The man was dead before he hit the grown, brain matter spattering the wall.

*Plop* A bullet whistled through the air, missing Dick by millimeters, lodging six inches next to the little girl’s head. He ran, screaming “Dick!”

*Plop* Blood sprayed out, a bullet ripping through Dick’s shoulder, as he kept moving towards the man.

*Plop* “Stop!” Tackling Dick out of the way, he screamed for them to stop, ripping napkins off a table and desperately trying to stop Dick’s life from slipping through his fingers.

He fell to his knees, a pit growing in his stomach spreading to his chest, rooting him to the spot. He curled his knees to his chest. Fuck. Dick had been shot before. But this? It was different. They weren’t in costume, they hadn’t been ready – the man hadn’t even shot anyone, only the bastard cops had.

“Love you.”

What kind of final words were those! He sat on the tile floor, banging his head into the side of the wall. Dick couldn’t die. Not because he forced him on some dumb dinner date! It wasn’t fucking fair!

His vision blurred, but he couldn’t do anything to stop the tears, unless he wanted blood in his eyes. Just – fuck. “FUCK!” His shout reverberated around the room. This was all his fault – he should have stayed home with Lian, guilt pooled in the bottom of his stomach. Why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone? Why’d he always have to have the last word? What was wrong with him!? Normal people didn’t antagonize each other like that!

The door creaked open. “Roy?” Garth called, the door squealing as it slowly opened. “Donna’s here too, are you ohhhhhhhhh-kay?” His jaw dropped, though he quickly recovered. Roy looked away, in a failed attempt to hide the tear tracks on his cheeks.

Garth stared at his hands. “That’s a lot of blood.” He muttered, his eyes darting around the room. “I mean, I brought you clean clothes.” He placed pair of sweats and a ratty t-shirt he’d stolen from Dick years ago on the counter. Roy’s eyes lingered on the shirt, no doubt the choice had been intentional.

The sound of rushing water cut through the silence, seeming to grow louder with each passing moment. Garth leaned back against the counter, hopping up next to the sink. “He’ll be fine.”

“Yep.” Dick was always fine. Always fine until he wasn’t.

“It’s not your fault.” Wrong.

“Debatable.” Garth frowned at the response but held his tongue. Instead, he let his head fall back against the mirror, staring up at the ceiling.

Softly, barely above a whisper, he continued. “I left you all alone for one day and this is how it ends up.” Roy bit his lip. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” Guilt bubbled in the bottom of his stomach, and annoyance overcame him; they’d had these conversations before.

“Are you kidding me? I know what you want me to say. It’s not your fault – of course not. But then you’ll say ah but it’s not my fault either.” Angrily throwing his arms in the air, he continued, his voice growing louder. “And no – Garth – actually it is my fault!” He could feel the blood rushing to his face. “I’m the one who made him go to the restaurant. I’m the one was too late getting him out of the line of fire!” His voice resounded around the cramped room. He banged his head against the wall again. “Look, I know what you’re trying to do and thanks. But no thanks.”

Nonchalantly shrugging, Garth gestured to the water. “Wallowing here won’t make you feel less guilty. Apologizing when he wakes up will help, and I’m sure you’d prefer to be clean when the time comes.”

“Garth? Could you just…” He trailed off; anger quickly overcome by a wave of guilt. Shut up? Leave? Stop? He wasn’t sure, but he was sure he didn’t deserve whatever pity Garth was feeling. A wet paper towel smacked him in the face.

“Kick you in the rear so you’ll get off your sorry ass and clean yourself up?” Hopping off the counter, Garth strode over, lifting Roy by the elbow. “That’s not my style. But I’ll help you get cleaned up.” He let himself be dragged towards the running water, facing himself in the mirror once more, though this time he focused on Garth.

Sometimes Dick could swear he was actually a time traveler. Or maybe had latent teleportation abilities. Realistically, he’d probably just blacked out from blood loss or a concussion, but eh, that option wasn’t as fun. Blinking, he found himself in a familiar setting; a hospital room in a private wing, at – a clock ticked to his left, looking up – it was 4:19am.

He waited a minute, watching the clock turn to 4:20 - nice.

What was he doing again? How long was he out?

He struggled for a moment before remembering that he went out with Roy at 6pm last night, so he was out for… god math was hard. Six to twelve is six hours plus four, uh, ten hours and twenty minutes. Right. As long as it was the same day, he was set.

“Shit.” He promptly realized he couldn’t move his left arm. A sling. UGH. “Son of a-” he cut himself off, realizing he wasn’t alone in the room, Donna was gently snoring in a nearby chair, a little throw blanket covering her. The patterns had fish people… there was a word for that… mer-somethings-maids, mermaids. Mermaids – Garth – Garth was here, that was his blanket.

Dick scanned the room, checking for signs of life. Someone’s bag was on the floor, but he didn’t feel like expending the brain power to figure out who’s. Alright. He steeled himself. Now was the perfect time for escape.

The room spun as he sat up, turning around and round again before his eyes. Hah. Count Vertigo was way worse than this. Yep, head empty, room spinning, this was fine. Swinging his legs over the bed, an alarm blared next to his head.

“Fuck!” He jumped out of his skin, springing to his feet, in a defensive position. Well. He thought he did. The room was tilting on its side, the high-pitched noise shattering his thoughts. Instinctively, he tried to run.

“Woah there, shorty.” He found himself held by strong arms, the world turning once more. The familiar scent of Roy’s aftershave overpowered his senses. Distantly he was aware of the alarm turning off, his legs hitting the back of the bed. Roy’s face swam into view as he was guided back onto the bed, now propped up by soft pillows. So much for escape…

He closed his eyes, waiting for the rush of dizziness to pass. “Roy?” Warm arms wrapped around his torso, snaking tenderly around the sling. “What?” He mumbled - not that he was complaining, as he nestled his chin on Roy’s shoulder. He sighed contentedly, pressing his face into Roy’s stiff neck, closing his eyes and basking in the warmth.

For some reason, the wheels in his brain began turning. Roy. Dinner. Gunshots. His eyes shot open. “Fuck did you get hit, are you okay?” He pulled back, scanning Roy for injuries.

“I’m fine.” Roy facepalmed.

“What?”

“You got shot and you’re asking if I’m okay?” Roy shook his head, exhaustion clear in his voice. Dick looked at his sling again.

“I got shot?” It was like a piece of a puzzle clicking into place. “I got shot…” Wasn’t he supposed to be somewhere else? “How the fuck am I supposed to explain this to my boss?”

Sighing, Roy took a seat on the edge of the bed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why are you like this?” Turning, he looked Dick in the eyes. “Don’t answer that actually. Look, I’m sorry I made you go out to dinner.”

“Why? It was nice.” The food was good. Sputtering, Roy searched for words.

“Well. Don’t say I never apologized.” A little bit of a blush crept up his neck.

His mind abruptly recalled something he’d heard Roy saying to Lian. “Apologies come with hugs.” Roy rolled his eyes but moved closer anyways.

“You don’t even know why I’m apologizing.” He mumbled, brushing Dick’s bangs to the side. Dick grinned as Roy pecked his forehead, sweeping him into a second embrace. Two hugs in one day – that was a pretty good day. Roy’s fingers stroked through his hair, as Dick leaned into his muscular side, the world spinning slightly, though he’d found a solid rock to lean on.

#bad things happen bingo #titans #batfam #nightwing #arsenal #roy harper #dick grayson #my writing #i'm changing up how i post these a little bit - i'll just make one post responding to the ask #i think it makes it a bit neater #thanks so much for the request!#asks #fanfic

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rinkrats · 4 years

Text

Sidney Crosby was glued to his television for the duration of “The Last Dance.” A self-described “big fan” of the Chicago Bulls as a kid, Crosby was only 11 when Michael Jordan’s retirement swiftly, suddenly ended what had been the definitive dynasty for a generation of sports fans.

Thing is, “The Last Dance” didn’t transport Crosby to his childhood days spent barnstorming Canadian hockey towns. Instead, it reminded him of Pittsburgh, where he and Evgeni Malkin — the Scottie Pippen to Crosby’s Jordan with the Penguins — have been together for 14 NHL seasons and plan to keep dancing.

“Have to be able to work together,” Crosby said, referring to his Penguins partnership with Malkin. “We have had some pretty special times together.”

“We have to do it again.”

Jordan and Pippen and Gretzky and Messier eventually split up. Crosby and Malkin have stayed together through multiple contracts. Neither is thinking about a fourth contract with the Penguins.

Is it too soon to wonder about the future of arguably the greatest 1-2 punch Pittsburgh has produced? Probably not.

Malkin has two years remaining on his current contract. Crosby’s deal does not expire for another five seasons.

Still, neither of the Penguins’ co-franchise centers fancies a future playing hockey without the other. As Malkin told The Athletic last summer, “Sid good for Geno and Geno good for Sid; I hope we play always together, win more Cups.”

The Second Contract

Crosby and Malkin found themselves in similar situations when their rookie deals expired. Both could have negotiated for more than they ended up earning.

At the NHL Awards Show in 2008, a fresh-faced Malkin was a finalist for the Hart Trophy and coming off a superb second season in which he finished as the league’s No. 2 scorer and also helped the Penguins reach the Cup Final. Already one of the NHL’s best players, Malkin held a lot of leverage in upcoming talks with the Penguins, who wanted to keep him in the fold along with Crosby.

The prior summer, Crosby had agreed to a five-year contract worth $43.5 million. That deal, which would begin in the 2008-09 season, placed Crosby’s cap hit at $8.7 million.

He could have commanded more but traded a max-salary to help the Penguins maintain a Cup-contending core. That core had to include Malkin, who had been the second overall pick at the NHL Draft the year before the Penguins won a lottery to pick Crosby at No. 1 in 2005.

During a post-ceremony media session, Malkin was asked about his next contract. He shrugged, smiled and — in English, not his preferred Russian — said “same as Sid.”

Had there been the sound of a thud, presumably it would have been from agent J.P. Barry smacking his head off a nearby wall.

...Shero said that during talks with Brisson in 2007 for Crosby’s second contract that he had never presumed the deal would set a marker for Malkin. He had no idea what to expect from Brisson or Barry, and keeping Crosby was his only concern at that particular time.

“I’m coming off my first season as GM, and the best young player in hockey — and, c’mon, even at that point Sid’s the best fucking player in hockey — has a year left on his contract,” Shero said. “I remember people in the media asking me about Sid’s next contract. I’m, like, ‘What’s he going to get? Whatever the fuck he wants is what he’s going to get.’

“But I wasn’t thinking after Sid’s deal, ‘Oh, well, now Malkin gets that too.’ I had no idea what Evgeni wanted until his agent and I talked after that season.”

The Third Contract

...Two year prior, had Lemieux, Burkle, Morehouse or Shero been promised that Crosby would agree to a third contract with the Penguins — even one that pledged to pay him no less than a fifth of the franchise’s projected value — each of those club officials would have leaped at the opportunity. None would have harbored a second thought.

Burkle had one as Crosby set to put pen to paper in that conference room. A multi-billionaire who employed three pilots for his private jet, but who was rarely seen wearing anything other than black shoes, dark blue jeans and a charcoal-colored polo, Burkle cleared his throat and — loudly — insisted that Crosby “hold on.”

In that second, Crosby, as did everybody else in the conference room, cast a confused look toward Burkle, who had leaned forward from his chair and held his hand just above the table’s top.

“Before you sign,” Burkle said, “you’ve got to promise me that if you get hit in the head and hurt, you’ll grab your knee.”

He grinned. Crosby chuckled.

“Aww, man,” Crosby said. “You, too!”

A few seconds later, Crosby inked a contract without equal for any Penguin before or since — and back in Moscow, where he spends his summers, Malkin was thrilled for a couple of reasons

His captain was staying with the Penguins for a long, long time. That meant more good times were ahead if and when Malkin re-committed to the Penguins.

Also, “same as Sid” sounded even better when the term was a dozen years and the total money involved that many zeros. But unlike five years prior, Malkin couldn’t choose to take “same as Sid” from the Penguins. The new CBA, signed between Crosby’s deal and Malkin’s negotiations, capped players’ contracts at eight years if they re-signed with their current clubs.

Malkin agreed to an eight-year deal worth $76 million — a $9.5 million cap value that is the highest in Penguins history. He broke the so-called “Crosby cap” in Pittsburgh, if there was one.

“There wasn’t, and I would know,” Shero said. “But before we did Malkin’s deal, I called Sid and told him about the cap number we were looking at for Malkin. I felt I owed it to Sid. He’s our captain. He’s our best player. He’s our leader. He’s been through the concussions. He’s the face of the damn league. He deserved to know if we were going to have anybody above him, even Malkin.

“And, of course, he didn’t fucking care. I think he said, ‘I’m glad Geno’s getting taken care of and is happy and staying,’ or something like that. Which is so Sid, right? That was all I needed to hear.”

The Final Contract

Shero’s successor, Jim Rutherford, believes “Sid and Geno should be Penguins for life.” He made no promises but said every indication from Lemieux and Burkle is they also want that for Crosby and Malkin.

Brisson and Barry each said they have not broached the subject of a fourth NHL contract with their clients. Both offered that the history Crosby and Malkin share with the Penguins — plus their desire to add to their title total and become the greatest scoring tandem for any one franchise in NHL history — could play a factor when the time comes to do another deal for both players.

“Legacy is important,” Barry said. “There are other factors. With Evgeni, it’s always about winning. Will they still be a contender? He doesn’t want to rebuild. And there’s always going to be a compensation factor, but that’s true for any player.

“But he has something in Pittsburgh with Crosby that is very important to him. He doesn’t have a big circle of people who are close to him. Crosby is, and that’s part of a legacy, too.”

Added Brisson: “Mario is the Penguins. He’s everything to that franchise, in that city. But so is Sidney. He saved the Penguins as well. So, that’s important to him and everybody.”

-Snippets from Inside the talks that kept Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin in Pittsburgh by Rob Rossi, 17 June 2020

#sidney crosby #evgeni malkin #just two-headed monster things #THE MOST ROMANTIC #please read the full article #for the full extent of how devoted these two are to their team and each other #pittsburgh penguins #long post #text

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delusionland · 3 years

Note

STEPHCASS FOR THE MEME <3

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet?

here is my personal hc. tim told cass about a girl. he didn’t tell her anything about the girl, just that she was woefully unprepared to be a crimefighter... but also she was kinda cute, in a totally naive way (90s tim was kind of an asshole, never forget). cass couldn’t quite understand what he was saying while he showed her the batfile on her---the picture of the spoiler, etc. but she got his general tone and body language. cass then sought steph out. for nights. nights looking for the spoiler. when she found her---she tackled her, immediately engaged her in a fight. she went so, so easy on her. she just wanted to see what a cute girl was. and steph... was definitely a cute girl. at the time, cass couldn’t talk, couldn’t communicate with her. but she left her a gift. a nice knife that she had throw at her head---deliberately missing it, that was... especially ornate, and seemed shiny and valuable, and most of all purple to match her costume. pretty purple girls like pretty purple things, right?

What was their first impression of each other?

steph probably did not think well of cass, at first. after that first outing---the batfamily got involved. cass was to help steph with her fighting. steph was to help cass with her speech. without the mask on---steph could see how much cass enjoyed her company. it was hard not to realize she had a sense of humor about everything. the laughter she had exhibited on a still-baby-at-the-time spoiler screaming her head off about what she thought was some kind of demon-ninja batgirl was... genuine, and not malicious in the slightest. she seemed to want to be friends, and every time steph frowned at her, or was a sore loser, cass simply smiled and laughed harder, finding everything steph did perfectly amusing. as they got to know each other---cass got better at talking, and steph got better at fighting, and they kind of, met somewhere on the outer edges of the middle for a while. there was always something standing between them--though. a resentment, not between them, but a misunderstanding. that cass belonged to bruce and the bat. and steph belonged to tim.

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

i feel like conner kent at the very least shipped it. alfred really thought there was a spark between them, and during their brief frenemy stage---alfred made sure steph knew cass genuinely cared for her. bruce did NOT want them to get together at all, though. neither did tim, for obvious reasons.

Who felt romantic feelings first?

cass. it was love the first time steph managed to punch herin the face. did she win? no. but she GOT her. and through that tenacity, cass realized that her friend was so much more than a silly, pretty girl. she was a fighter. she was a champion. and more than anything, she was brave, and determined, and they had practiced a thousand times for just this moment. and afterwards, steph was just so proud of her overall failure instead of being herr typical loser.... cass couldnt help but know steph was always going to be the love of her life.

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

they both did! didn’t want to ruin the friendship!

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

cass would get a curious look, steph wouldn’t believe you!

What would their lives be like if they had never met?

they would be a lot worse, a lot lonelier. steph never would’ve become batgirl, that’s for sure, and cass would’ve learned to speak---but in a way entirely removed from her own personality and love of herself & life.

GENERAL

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

it was a mutual thing in ocean city, maryland. they were in a photo booth, sitting in eachother’s laps, leg over leg, they did a silly face, and then another silly face, and then their faces were so close---and then SMOOCH CITY, and they WOULD NOT LEAVE THE BOOTH lol.

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

they considered ocean city their first date. but they’re not really the ‘dating’ types. they both LOVE to fight. they both LOVE to crime fight. they both LOVE spending time together doing NOTHING. if anything, the first time cass had to go to a gala with her was the first time they realized---ugh, do we REALLY have to be WAYNES? do we really have to have REAL LIVES? why can’t we stay in our cuddle - asskicking bubble forever?

What was their first kiss like?

it was the most natural possible thing, and it was something they had both almost had so many times before that it was like drowning in sensation after you had subsisted off of gerbil-cage drips of water for years. they couldn’t stop! they were consumed with want, and they only stopped when they started to get a little TOO frisky and somebody moved the curtain of the booth because they wanted to get their own picture taken and they were like ‘fuck! okay lets get french fries!’ lol

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

steph is cass’s first gf, and vice versa.

What’s their height difference? Age difference?

cass is 5′7″ JUST tall enough to be taller than her gf >: )

What’s their relationship with each other’s families?

cass will kill the puzzler or whatever the fuck his name is. he sucks. steph’s mom loves her tho :’ ) and well. the less said about bruce and steph the better, but like. your whole blog is proof of how much the rest of the batfam loves steph!

Who takes the lead in social situations?

they both are the ‘HAHA! THE ECONOMY!’ gif tbh.

Who gets jealous easier?

cass. steph is special cargo, the first girl / person she ever loved romantically, the first friend she ever had. however, cass has made it very publically known she wants threesomes with other hotties of multiple genders.

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear?

CASS CASS CASS.

LOVE

Who said “I love you” first?

steph, and she agonized over it, only for cass to say it so easily in a way cass didn’t think it would ever be easy for her to say. like steph is some magical fairy tale princess that lifts the curse on cass to never be able to express love the way love is supposed to be expressed. steph just makes things easy. she makes everything easy.

What are their primary love languages?

TOUCH. GAMES. QUALITY TIME. GIFTS.

Who uses cheesy pick-up lines?

they both do they’re TERRIBLE.

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

batgirl and the black bat are forced on seperate patrols bc they do this so much and they HATE it and SNEAK OUT and kiss ANYWAY!

Who initiates kisses?

cass!

Who’s the big and little spoon?

cass is big spoon!

What are their favorite things to do together?

they really like watching wrestling and kung fu movies together i think. steph also likes girly movies, but cass gets bored after a while and just starts wrestling with her over the popcorn and then wrestling leads to hankypanky. most of all they love fighting and dancing AND PLAYING PRANKS on the bat boys.

Who’s better at comforting the other?

cass is.

Who’s more protective?

CASS IS.

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?

physical affection.

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?

jenny - studio killers

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

they both call each other batgirl affectionately, cass also learns new words to say girlfriend and sweetie all the time and uses those.

Who remembers the little things?

STEPH.

DOMESTIC LIFE

If they get married, who proposes?

they COMPETE to see who will do it first. they use the batcave to make sure the other isnt going to look for rings. and when they find the other one shopping for rings. its fucking GO-TIME BITCH. you’re not going to propose to me, i’m going to propose to you! when they pop out the boxes at the exact same time, cass steals the ring from steph’s hands and holds it up over her head and throws hers at steph’s head like ‘YOU HAVE TO MARRY ME FIRST. NO TAKEBACKSIES.’

What’s the wedding like? Who attends?

it’s a big wedding. cass loves, loves people. it’s a whos-who, especially since cass is gonna be batman and she has all the justice league contacts now. cass turns a bit into a bridezila, but like, as a joke, mostly, and she calms down when steph is like ‘i thought we could be more intimate...’ lol

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?

they adopt some bratty street kids that are tangentially related to joker / black mask / puzzler / lady shiva as a fuck you. they love their kids so much.

Do they have any pets?

so many cats. a million cats.

Who’s the stricter parent?

cass.

Who worries the most?

steph.

Who kills the bugs in the house?

cass.

How do they celebrate holidays?

they go to concerts!!!! big loud concerts where they can mosh!!!

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

cass! no school! just cuddles!

Who’s the better cook?

steph. cass doesn’t know how to, and also refuses to, fry an egg.

Who likes to dance?

cass most of all!

#ooc: hc #ooc: replies #chaoticblondes

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kevkesblog · 4 years

Text

Translation: Julian Brandt Interview for “11 Freunde” (June 18, 2020)

Attention: long post! Julian talks about overblown salaries in football, why he even stays at two-star hotels, why he thinks football should not be dramaticly reformed and why you won’t see him in Gucci clothing & more.

Julian Brandt, what do you miss the most at the moment?

Ju: Just going outside and sitting in a café with some friends. Enjoying a bit more freedom. But I think many people have the same wishes right now.

Yet, the break because of the Corona pandemic seem to have lifted you. You were involved in all four goals during the 4-0 win against Schalke.

Ju: I would still have preferred it, without the break. I mean it’s like this: sometimes you need just a few days to arrive at a place, sometimes it takes months. Feeling well in a city, a club and with my teammates is important. I’m a football player that needs a comfortable environment.

How was it for you at BVB in the beginning?

Ju: There were definitely no fireworks at the beginning. But honestly, I kind of expected to need more time. I think thats normal after five and a half years at Bayer Leverkusen. It was a great time there, but in the end it was a comfort zone for me. I switched to BVB because I wanted to do something new.

And because Marco Reus asked you.

Ju: Many people were in favour of me going to Dortmund. Even my mother wore yellow pullovers astonishingly often, during the time before my transfer happend. And Marco asked me at the national team, that’s true. I felt honored, but I saw a chance playing for a team which plays competitively for the title until the end of the season and is represented in the Champions League regularly, those were the main reasons for my transfer.

What else is different in Dortmund than in Leverkusen?

Ju: Dortmund is bigger in almost every regard. Even the stadium is enormous and it becomes even more imposing with people in it. Building such a stadium somewhere is one thing. Brining it to live however like in Dortmund – that’s an art in and of itself. You don’t get that very often in Europe. Leverkusen – and I have to be honest here – has never been on my radar for me as a boy. But it’s the perfect club if you want to develop as a young player. I already suspected this after I talked to Rudi Völler for the first time.

I was told, you said „Rudi Völler has honest eyes“ to your father afterwards.

Ju: He has a sincere attitude. I would have believed everything he said. And his promises became reality. We were playing attractive and successful football. And you don’t get so much pressure as a young player from the outside. The media landscape for example is much smaller in Leverkusen than elsewhere.

Do you miss the fans in the stadium in Dortmund?

Ju: I was never that guy who was aware of stuff that happend on the stands. But after the game against Inter Mailand, where we were behind 0-2 before the break and won 3-2 in the end – I recognized how important football is for the people here and how much they were willing to support us. It was so honest, authentic and direct. One of the best games thus far.

Before that Michael Rummenigge critized you as „C-youth player“. That was after the Inter game where you scored as well. Was that a key moment?

Ju: Everybody can voice their opinions that’s totally fine for me. I’m not a person who jumps on it. And I wasn’t really satisfied with my game as well. Perhaps the 2-1 win against Gladbach a few days before was a turning point. Not only, because I scored twice, but rather because I was able to play on the ten for the first time. After that my game became better.

You said in the beginning of your time at BVB „Peter Bosz liked the risk. We don’t really have that here in Dortmund“. Did the way you play now changed?

Ju: We play nice football under Lucien Favre. He likes an offensive tactic. Adding that, we score alot of goals. But Peter Bosz was a special coach in that regard because we played a modern version of football with a high amount of ball possesion – often over 80 percent. And we not only wanted to keep the ball all the time, while playing until our opponent gets tired like it’s the case with tiki-taka football. We were always on the attack. At BVB we put more emphasis on the defensive at the beginning. It was a change for me, since I wanted to have the ball and not running behind him all the time.

Is football an elegant game?

Ju: My room as child was full of „Bravo“-magazine posters with offensive players. Nedved, Robinho, Del Piero and the best among the best: Ronaldinho. I liked it whenever players carry their street football skills to the pitch. Whenever somebody is looking for something spectacular. I want to gamble and not just act in a rigid system.

Doesn’t modern tactics prevent something like this?

Ju: You are basically being funneled at youth football academies with: receive the ball, passing, receiving, passing. There a strict requirements you have to follow. But I think good teams need self-confident players, saying „No, I won’t fit in, but I rather go into a one-on-one situation“. We have such guys in our national team. Leroy Sané or Timo Werner. Kai Havertz is a player who has a street football mentality too. Often it looks very easy, but it’s not. It just passed over into blood.

You are wearing the jersey number 10 at the national team. Like you also wore at Leverkusen. Does that do something with you?

Ju: I feel lighter in some sense. Perhaps because I know that you have to earn the number ten. Not like in the past, but I do think it has a certain meaning yes.

We heard you don’t like to talk about your strengths. Why?

Ju: I think, it looks like I’m a show off. I have enough self-confidence already.

Yet you do know that you can shoot really good. Who taught you?

Ju: Many things happened because I just tried. I even knew as a ten-year old boy: if I want to become a great football player I have to be able to shoot well with both feet. So, for weeks I shoot with my left foot on our lawn. Shot, flank, pass. It helped a lot. I met Federico Palacios during my youth time in Wolfsburg. He taught me insane techniques. I had a phase were I was obsessively training my first contact: not trying to stop the ball between the lines, but rather take the ball without defender nor midfielder getting the ball instead.

What are your weaknesses?

Ju: My headers. But I’m currently working on it and I often score. At least without opponent (laughs). Some people say I can work more on my defensive work. And yes, there is some truth to it, even after I already worked on it for quite some time. The thing is: I’m not an aggressive person, its not who I am. But of course, I understand whenever coaches say I need to have a certain minimum amount of aggressive behavior on the pitch.

Do you have a career plan?

Ju: No, everything I do, I do spontaneously.

But everything you do looks so reasonable: youth football for your home club. Training at a football academy in Wolfsburg. Professional debut at Bayer Leverkusen, your transfer to BVB a year ago…

Ju: Honestly: I could not have imagined going to VfL Wolfsburg as well at the beginning. Why should a boy do this, when he basically grew up just a 20 minute bike ride away from the Weser stadium in Bremen and was standing in the fan curve in his youth?

Because Werder [Bremen] overlooked you?

Ju: That’s not true. I even got invited to a try-out training. But then I looked at some other academies. I wasn’t only looking at VfL Wolfsburg. For example I looked at FC St. Pauli as well. Yet, I had the best feeling with Wolfsburg.

Why?

Especially during the ages 15 to 18 a lot is happening: you grow, your muscle mass is increasing, you slowly get to play with the professionals. On the other hand, many doors are opening. Your friends go partying for example. I liked being on a football academy for two and a half years. You couldn’t leave the campus after 11 o’clock in the evening. Apart from that we were very successful and won the German a-youth championship. But I can still remember how perplexed my parents were at the breakfast table, back when I told them about my decision to join Wolfsburg.

You are being called the “Anti-Star” of the business quite often. Does that do something with you?

Ju: Many people seem to think it’s probably because I have no tattoos and my father is my agent. But to be honest: there are some football player clichées I fit in. I like fast cars. I like playing playstation and I have 40 pairs of shoes in my closet. I just try not to pretend to be someone else. I wouldn’t look good in a Gucci-pullover.

Others like to call you “premature”. You were allowed to train with the professionals at the age of 15 in Wolfsburg. How did you do that?

Ju: That was insane and unreal. I was riding my bike to the training ground one day and the assistant coach Bernd Hollerbach took me to his side and said: “Introduce yourself to the coach”. So, I went into his office. “Hello Mr. Magath, I’m Julian from the under-17 team.” Of course, I was suspecting he already knew me otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten an invitation. But he was just staring at the television. After a while – it felt like an eternity – he looked at me, didn’t say a word, total silence and then he turned away. And then I was sneaking out of the room.

Magath wanted to test you?

Ju: I was unsettled a bit, but I wasn’t thinking about it anymore on the pitch. It doesn’t matter who is on your side, or whether your opponent is twenty years older than you and who your father is.

Did you nutmeg someone?

Ju: I would have been beaten for that. On the other hand: the pain fades away, the nutmeg stays (laughs). I remember I unintentionally shoot a ball into Marvin Hitz’s face.

How many agents were lining up at your doorstep at the time?

Ju: I stopped counting it after a while. I don’t think all agents are bad but I don’t need one at the moment. I have my father. He may not be Mino Raiola with thousands of contacts all over the world. But he doesn’t need them.

Nevertheless: this son-father-constellation also has it’s potential conflicts…

Ju: Our family sticks together – we are very harmonic and strong. I can’t remember a time where we were had an argument. I lived together with my brother in Cologne. I also have a connection with my father because of football. He used to play for the first team at SC Borgfeld – which was also my first club. I still remember: we went into the clubhouse whenever the Champions League was on. It was the best day of the week.

Now it’s about big business. Do you know your own worth?

Ju: It was downgraded since the outbreak of the pandemic. I read that on so some sites.

But it’s still 40 million euros. What does such a number do with you?

Ju: I can handle that because I can manage those numbers quite well. There is a lot money floating around in football. And I know its not easy to comprehend it with normal standards anymore. We live in our own bubble in that regard. The salaries in football are in no relation to what normal people earn – even with football being the greatest sport on earth. But why is that the case? Because sponsors are flushing so unbelievable high amounts of money into football. I think it’s important not to make the sport a luxury item. It has to stay affordable. In the stadium as well as in front of the TV.

Explain to us: why does a professional football player negotiate whether he should get 10 or 11 million euros per year?

Ju: It shows how greedy people can be sometimes. But that’s not football specific. It’s as unfair as the richest one percent of the world’s population owning more than half of the world’s wealth, right?

Could this crisis perhaps be a chance in order for football to calm down?

Ju: Perhaps in the short term. For the next one or two years. If any. I can’t imagine a player like Mbappé being sold next year for 80 million euros. Someone will always pay those insane sums of money.

How do you ground yourself?

Ju: Through my family and friends. Many are studying or doing an apprenticeship. It’s never about money when we talk, I just like having a great time with them. We don’t need a luxury vacation. But one time: we went to Mallorca for four or five days just as we qualified for the Champions League with Bayer Leverkusen. We stayed at a normal two-star-hotel, one room with a bed and a bathroom – that was it. We went to the beach and relaxed.

Has there never been a situation where a friend or family member had to take you back to the ground?

Ju: No. I can’t remember that I ever reacted arrogant or snooty. Or a situation where I thought: “Wow. That’s not who you are”. I’m fully aware of my very privileged life. In short: my greatest worry is whether we will win or loose on the weekends. It’s important to be thankful and to remind yourself what you got every once in a while.

Why do you have to remind yourself stuff like that all the time?

Ju: In order for it never to become normal. I know cheese costs about 69 cents at the grocery store and a different one costs 1,29 euros. But if a tool or device breaks down I sometimes just buy myself a new one. Whereas in the past I would have repaired it by myself.

But is football still the same game you fell in love with as a kid?

Ju: Absolutely. The game itself hasn’t really changed much. Okay, we have the goal line technology – which I support. And we got the video assistant referee, were people can argue. I abstain in that question. Once in a while, new ideas are being floated: like reducing the playtime to 60 minutes, new tournaments, elite leagues – I think it’s all bullshit. Keep football like it is. The way we learned it. With all its faults and tricky aspects. Even if something goes wrong.

Like during the World Cup 2018. Did you know that you could be the first DFB-team leaving the tournament after the group stage?

Ju: At some point he heard of it. It doesn’t really look good on your vita but it happened. Perhaps we needed this in order for something new to emerge. You have to remember: other great football nations also failed in similar ways. Italy, Spain or France all crashed out of the group stage after they won the World Cup.

Did the photo with Mesut Özil and Erdogan brought some unrest into the team?

Ju: The fact that almost all reporting was revolving around that topic was irritating sometimes. Don’t get me wrong: I think its important for the media to cover political topics extensively and with background stories. But I remember after the game against Sweden – after we barely won because of Toni Kroos free kick: shortly after the game you get asked whether the poor performance during the first 75 minutes were due to the photo – and you thinking: why don’t we talk about the game? Mesut became the poster boy for the disappointing World Cup. That’s nonsense. We all played shitty.

During the Confed-Cup the year before, many young players were in the team. At the World Cup the established players came back. Did Löw put his trust into the wrong players in Russia?

Ju: You can come to that conclusion afterwards, but you don’t know it in advance. I could fully understand Low though. He was loyal and in some cases he felt some gratitude. He couldn’t and he didn’t want to replace a World Cup winner from 2014 with a young player. The way we were defeated at the World Cup was not foreseeable. Because we also played great football between 2014 and 2018.

The team made it to the semifinals at the EURO 2016 and you became second with the Olympic football team in Rio.

Ju: A great experience with a team that was just thrown together. A contribution of Horst Hrubesch.

What makes him special?

Ju: He is just great, the guy! He’s from a different generation which you can tell with a lot of things around him. Once he wanted to show me how to shot from the side. I almost tore my muscle fiber doing it. But he manages it very well forming a team with young players. He’s a very free coach and very direct. He always called me lazy (laughs). And he has a very nice and dry sense of humor.

An example?

Ju: Me and the Bender-twins were sitting together shortly before the semifinal against Nigeria. He came up and said: “Guys, losing today doesn’t make any sense anymore.” A funny sentence, but also true if you think about it.

Julian Brandt, you made over 200 Bundesliga games, played Champions League and participated in one World Cup. You just turned 24. Do you even still have time to suck it all in and enjoy it?

Ju: Football is quick. I can still remember coming to Leverkusen – as if it was yesterday: my first game for the under 23 team against Essen. My Bundesliga debut against Schalke a week later. That was a little more than six years ago already. Crazy. Veteran players always say: “Enjoy it, because quickly your career will be over.” But how should you enjoy it? A game every four or five days. New photos, new events. You don’t have an awful lot of time to let everything sink in for a moment. I usually do that on new years eve. On a friend’s balcony. I even get sentimental then.

#julianbrandt #julian brandt #bayerleverkusen #borussiadortmund #bundesliga #bvb #dfb #diemannschaft #german nt

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

i wanna know what love is - 15

Pairing: rockstar! sebastian stan x writer!reader

Warnings: none.

A/N: for me the most romantic scene of all time is the pas de deux dance scene seen in the “dance at the gym” scene. west side story is such an important romantic movie for me that i decided to include it. i hyperlinked the pas de deux so you guys can have a good idea of what’s happening. also sebastian has said in an old interview that he did west side story so here we are. 💕💕

Last Chapter // Next Chapter

Sebastian spent the whole night awake, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Mary’s words. He’d always found it hard to argue with Mary, after all she was a graduate Yale Law student and he, well, the only experience he had with the law was when he got pulled over by driving under the influence and even then Mary came to fix it. However, he also knew Mary preferred Y/N over him, so if she was telling him to do something about it, he was supposed to do it. Nevertheless, he couldn’t come up with the courage to do anything and it wasn’t like Melody would leave him easily.

- You alright, baby? - Melody asked as she got ready to go downstairs for a buffet breakfast. - You look awful, I’ll get you some sleeping pills tonight.

- Y/N knows why I’m leaving. - he just said it. Maybe she would see herself out if her blackmail disappeared from her arsenal. - She knows.

- Are you taunting me? - she turned on her heel, arms crossed across her chest. He was not taunting her because taunting her normally meant a fight and the amount of sleep he had gotten the two prior days did not gave him enough force to have an argument this early in the morning. - What do you think is gonna happen? You’re gonna go over her room, tell her you like her and she’ll fuck you and play happy couples? Girls like her marry prep school boys, not guys like you. You’re the guy she fucks before she marries a doctor.

- I think I’m gonna stay in. - he laid against his pillow, ignoring her mumbles as she got ready to go to breakfast. She eventually left, and by the noise he could hear from his bedroom, so did everyone else which meant he had the whole house for himself.

It wasn’t like he could sleep, not after what his mind had done to him when he felt asleep for a few minutes. Therefore, he decided to lift from the bed and grab his guitar. He’d had the same guitar ever since he signed his first contract, he remembered walking into a music store and picking the guitar he’d wanted to buy since he was a kid. He’d kept it all these years and sometimes would play it. Today was one of those days.

He sat on the couch by the wall, guitar on his leg as he started to play something. What he didn’t know however was that someone else was at the hotel room and that someone else woke up very annoyed to the song reverberating through the walls. Y/N raised her torso, sleep still in her mind as she heard what she thought was Every Rose has its torn. She groaned, climbing out of bed and getting into her slippers as she made a bee-line to where the noise was coming. Sebastian’s room. Sometimes, she wondered if he lived just to annoy her.

She was about to burst into his room asking him why he was destroying her beauty sleep but the softness of the guitar and his voice as he sang one of, in Y/N’s opinion, one of the saddest songs in rock. She slightly opened the door to see the scene, his head against the wall and guitar slightly leaning against his torso, eyes closed. She grabbed her phone behind her back, turning her voice memos on so she could get it on record, her head leaning against the door as she finally heard him sing something softly. However, nice things don’t last forever and the song was over pretty soon.

- That was lovely. - she said making him jump off his seat, heat shooting to look at the door where she stood. - I didn’t mean to frighten you.

- Aren’t you supposed to be at breakfast? - he asked, trying not to sound rude. It wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy her company, he did, but not when he could still envision her face in his dreams.

- I’m not feeling very well.

- Everything alright? - he almost bolted off the coach, going to meet her at the door until he realised he was acting stupid.

- I just forgot to bring my hot water bottle and I’m having very cramps. - Y/N on the other hand did not know why she was being so comfortable with him. She didn’t know him that well to be telling him her uterus was shedding but here she was. However, what she did not expect was for him to give her an understanding smile, putting his hand in her lower back and accompanying her to the living room. - What are we doing?

- I’ll get someone to get you a hot water bottle and some room service. Should make it better, right? - he said, a look of complete confusion in his face as he picked up the phone to call room service and the costumer service desk. Y/N couldn’t help it but smile at him. Mary couldn’t be right, he couldn’t have overdosed, she just didn’t see it. He put the phone down, noticing that she was staring at him more than usual. - Mary told me, Y/N.

- What did Mary told you? - her heart stopped. She wouldn’t dare tell him that without her express consent.

- I know you know why I’m leaving the band. - she felt herself calm down. It wasn’t as bad, I mean could be worse, Mary could’ve told him way personal stuff that she’d want to be locked in. - I can see you wanna ask about it, you’re a terrible pretender.

- Do you do drugs? - she asked as he took the spot in the coach next to her.

- No, Y/N. I don’t do drugs.

- Did you ever do drugs? - Sebastian laughed at her questions. She looked so much like a kid, asking something she shouldn’t be asking and he couldn’t help but look at her with a grin.

- No, bunny, I never did drugs. - he pointed at the bunny ears headband that she was wearing to keep her hair out of her face. He wanted to point out it looked ridiculous but considering she was in a situation that would make her win every argument, he decided not to. - Do you have any more questions?

- If you never did drugs and you don’t do drugs, how did you overdose?

- I was partying with some guys at the bar, took my eyes off my drink for a minute and they put something in my drink. Next thing, I know I’m awake in the hospital without the loose money I had on me.

- Why didn’t you tell the guys? - she wondered out loud, her head laying against the coach.

- I want out of this, Y/N. I never asked ... never wanted ... to be this. I wanted people to like and listen to my music, not me. But the limelights and the girls, the drinking ... they change you. I’m tired, Y/N. I destroyed my relationship with my family, with my friends ... I want out.

- You don’t destroy relationships with anyone. You just put a pause to it until you’re ready to restart it. - one employee came in holding a cart full of food and the hot water bottle. Sebastian thanked the employee as Y/N cuddled the hot water bottle against her stomach. He immediately left, leaving them alone again.

- My mother told me not to dare to speak to her after a magazine ran an article about me and my supposed groupies. - he took one of the trays with some pancakes. - My stepfather passed away mad at me and all my step siblings went to ivy leagues and have picture perfect marriages. I didn’t even finish college.

- Did you try talking to her? - she was soothing to speak with but Sebastian daren’t speak with his mother. She’d made it loud and clear, she didn’t want to speak with him and he’d made peace with it. - She’s your mum, she won’t hate you forever.

- Right ... what movie should we watch? - he turned the smart TV in front of them which was almost as big as the wall. The sound of Netflix, changing the subject as he scrolled through the movies. However, her eyes were set on the movie just below what he was looking at, West Side Story.

- West Side Story. - she said, an eyebrow raised at him. Y/N didn’t know if he would be into it but he just shrugged, putting the movie on. If there was a movie that made her go back to childhood, it was West Side Story. Whenever the whistle at the beginning of the movie started, it just brought back memories of her and her brother trying to do the dance routines around the living room table with her mother and father following them begging them to stop before someone got hurt.

Sebastian had also watched the movie quite several times. He enjoyed a classical well written score and West Side Story’s score seemed to talk for itself without the aid of lyrics.

They quickly reached the dance at the gym scene which was by far Y/N’s favourite scene, mostly because she could do the whole scene. She got up from the couch taking his hands with hers as she took her stance. He found it amusing as he took the same position she was in, moving from side to side with arms at shoulder length. He had to admit it he found it hard keeping up with her as she moved around, fingers snapping yet arms still perfectly up. Sebastian ended up by failing epically making her hit his chest, instead of the side.

His eyes locked with her, a light flush from the heat of the room settling on his cheeks.

- You value honesty above all, don’t you Y/N?

- In normal conditions, yes.

- My truth is that I really want to kiss you.

- Well, we have a problem then ... - she looked at her feet before raising her head to stare at him. - Because I want to kiss you too.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan AU #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine

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currentfandomkick · 4 years

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Marinette did Not sign up for this part 5

so, this happened. i would feel bad, but the characters hijacked this story after chapter 1 and i’m just along for the ride and checking that words makes sense.

First part here Previous Here ao3 Here

“Hey Alya, you haven’t been getting more hits on your blog from Gotham lately, have you?” Marinette asked.

Alya rolled her eyes as honestly, could her bestie be any less obvious? She could see the “new” necklace. The one that only shows up when Multimouse is on call. Honestly—why is it everyone keeps thinking she doesn’t know who’s who? She’s the Fox—Illusions and Truth are her bread and butter.

“Now that you mention it,” Alya pulled up her latest stats. “Yes. The whole site—jeez these guys must have just found out and want the scoop from the best source in Paris,” Alya preened.

Marinette acted… different after she got that answer. Moved in on herself. Alya could feel the attempt at a cover-up before she even asked.

“Hey, is something up?”

“Nothing! Nothing is up, why would something be up! Ha, that’s a good one Alya!”

Ah, the miraculous-related tic was in full swing then. Marinette isn’t exactly the most in-the-know miraculous user, and the Mouse is always taken back after its been used. She could be forgiven for assuming Alya, the expert in all things Miraculous second only to the Original duo and their boss, would not know that something was going on in a certain spotted heroine’s life, and it was all hands on deck.

“Okay,” Alya switched to her theory notes, “Any new names to add to the ‘would not be surprised if they were Hawkmoth’ list?” Marinette is a goldmine on this topic, and while miraculous adjacent, definitely able to ease the whole ‘not in control’ and helpless feelings this situation was probably stirring in her girl. She knew it was for herself atleast.

Marinette perked up with a familiar ‘I know what you will say, but lets do this anyway’ type of sly smile. “Okay, so we do agree that it has to be someone that knows Gabriel’s schedule and doesn’t want to interfere with it for the most part, right?”

“Well,” Alya wasn’t letting this hunch go anytime soon, no matter what LB and Chat said about evidence against. She knew she was onto something with it, and for all she knew, some miraculous magic could be interfering. “I still say it could be him and Natalie taking turns, but that doesn’t rule them both out.”

Marinette shot Alya a look, of the ‘I strongly disagree, but feel it is futile to remind you why’ variety.

“I’m kidding, your boss isn’t Hawkmoth, I know… He’d totally have better designs for akumas if he was.”

Marinette leaned forward conspiratorially. “You should have seen him tear into the Bubbler one when I brought it up as an example of horrible design. His face was perfect!”

Alya would love to imagine the many, many ways to torment Gabriel after what she and Nino have come to understand about the man from their friends. Ranging from negligent and uninvolved control freak at best to manipulative, victim-blaming, and abusive POS. If Adrien and Marinette were a little less attached (re: not pedestalling the man so much), then she could get them to see the truth and they could go over the pair’s options to get them both away from his BS and make the man pay for the all the crap he put Adrien through, and was starting to put Marinette through. Why else would the girl be running herself ragged—especially the past week—if the man wasn’t a demanding asshole boss?

“That’s great, next time, get a pic or vid and share the love.”

“I will, so I met another one of his suppliers and…” Alya began to take vicious notes, glad for Marinette’s attention to detail on these things. It made looking for possible Hawkmoths much easier on her and Max—yes she knows who Pegasus and Cowboy are, Markov in a hat is still Markov in a hat. It was a wonder that no one else noticed.

Alya grinned when she saw Trixx peek out of her hiding place, a wide smile that reminded her exactly why Alya could catch everyone’s identity while her friends still hadn’t put together she’s Rena; a Fox casts illusions. To do that well, you have to learn to seek and see the truth, and get your evidence. And Alya? Is a damn good fox.

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Tim hates his stupid insane list of designers. He managed to knock of half by using his own damn filters, thank you very much for dominant genes from the Wayne side that could be seen visually. It knocked out a good chunk (about two thousand out of five thousand) on hair alone. He decided he would let it keep running for those that linked their socials to their psueds and aliases.

The problem was the handful (about ten) that didn’t. He’d have to meet them in person, used his glasses to get pictures, and run those against social media posts in Paris to find out who these more private designers were—all to find out if they really are in the right age range, and if their natural features do put them in the ‘likely a Wayne’ category for Wayne dominant traits (and those possible given Bruce’s own DNA makeup, which he doesn’t know Tim has. Hey, he’s the Robin that Gets Shit Done, never said he was the polite one. That’s Dick’s job, not his.)

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Adrien hates not having Plagg with him. Not that Tikki isn’t great and all! Really! Just… he misses him and his stinky cheese, okay?

“Adrien,” Natalie knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

Natalie entered the doorway, but no further. “When is Marinette free for consultations next? we have a high end client who would like to commission her as soon as possible.”

“Give me a minute…” Adrien checked his ‘overseeing Marinette’ schedule on his phone. “Uh, she has walk-ins around four until five tomorrow.”

“Excellent. Will she be at her home or the studio Gabriel has provided for consultations?” By her tone, he could tell which Natalie and Father would prefer.

“Let me check with her.”

“See that you do.”

Adrien sent a lipstick, X arm lady, and house emoji to Marinette.

In a minute she sent back a thumbs up and apartment building emoji.

“Studio it is.”

Natalie nodded. “Excellent choice. I will let them know to be there at four ten, given Marinette’s… difficulty arriving on time.”

Adrien grimaced a bit on that as yeah… no longer having a Danger sense meant her punctuality was… not very good. “Are they speaking to Marinette or MDC?”

He’d need to know if he should just pick her up or not. MDC didn’t have to get picked up—designers to celebrities are allowed to be late and can blame it on getting caught up in a few details on a commission design for a walk-in consultation. Marinette was tied to the Gabriel Brand and needed to reflect that, therefore, be there on time and ready.

“Marinette for now, though they expressed an interest in MDC as a budding designer, and they are well within the MDC price range,” Natalie hinted.

Adrien kept the hiss growing in the back of throat quiet. Marinette chooses who MDC works with, not his Father.

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Stephanie is both delighted and upset when she sees Cass. As its Cass—she probably figured it out already damn it!—but its Cass and she missed her since she left a few months back for a mission and got caught up in the Chinese crime scene again.

“Hey Cass!”

Cass grinned when she saw Steph and made her way over.

“Found her!”

Stephanie was gutted. She really wanted to win, just this once, at a detective thing. You know, be the normal one that managed to out-do the prodigies and geniuses. Not to be again. “Oh, that’s great. Where is the baby bat?”

Cass shook her head. “Not her, Soup Girl.”

Stephanie opened and shut her mouth. Then lit up as she still has a chance! “Oh, right—right! You said you wanted to meet her a while back.”

Cass nodded. “Her family is nice.”

“Did you talk to her or…”

Cass shook her head. “Busy.”

“Ah.” That made sense. “Well, uh, still competing?”

Cass raised an eyebrow. That was a yes.

“Maybe we should work on helping her on the hero side of things together, you know, so we don’t freak her out when we all swarm her place. Make the whole thing a bit less…”

“Dramatic.”

Stephanie nodded. It would help ease the girl into the family, and keep Cass on that case instead of finding Baby Bat for a bit. Win-Win for Stephanie and Baby Bat.

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Chatte Noire really, really hates dealing with akumas. She's built for strategy, to see tricky parts and work out how to make them safer for the team and minimize risk. She is not made to be Chatte Noire. Yet here she is, in an akuma attack, trying to play the role of a Black Cat—identify and destroy threats to the team. Problem is, she lacks Chat Noir's heightened ability to sense danger. In fact, she lacks it completely--and she knows the team isn't happy.

The attack is taking longer than it would if she was Ladybug. This would be over if she had just managed to keep her big mouth shut and not talked to Aquaman. Then the Justice League wouldn’t be involved. Then the whole promise to Murder Robin would not be broken and Paris would already be saved for the day instead of dealing with another Sandboy attack going on well into the night, with a cure that won’t be able to handle fatigue, energy renewal or relax the body for sleep post ‘I’m scared out of my mind’ fear.

She made sure to avoid this Sandboy’s attacks and she would save whoever got caught. Her Cataclysms may not be as strong as Chat’s (his do make the whole thing go away) but she is just as quick on her feet and just as good at getting civilians out of danger.

“Chatte!”

“On it Buggaboy! And not yet!”

It was too off for the Lucky Charm. They’d need Viperion, and he was stuck underwater with Aquaman trying to get him out at the moment. Until then, she just had to minimize damage, keep civilians away from their nightmares hunting them down, and keep moving and planning and work everything out while playing bodyguard for the team at Cha—At Mr. Bug’s call.

She hopes things turn out okay.

Then she sees a bat symbol and the world vanishes.

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Red Hood blinked when he saw some girl running around on rooftops in… Isn’t Chat Noir supposed to be the cat one? Where the hell is Ladybug—and why is some guy in her place? Shit, did the baby bat lose her miraculous or was it stolen? Damnit, now he has to steal it back for her!

“Okay, how did LB get hit when she isn’t even here?” The fox girl groaned as she dodged another attack. “Aren’t these guys supposed to go after who’s scared of them?”

The bee girl rolled her eyes. “More than just Ladybug can be terrified of the bats. They’re the Ghosts, remember?”

“Hey, can we argue about fears and who has rights to them some other time?” fake ladybug asked, flinching and moving closer to the Turtle guy. “Uh, Chatte, that way!”

Cat girl—Chatte— said something he didn’t catch and grabbed a kid stuck in a mob and bounce out.

“I—” the boy threw his hands up. “We’re screwed. She really, really isn’t getting the whole Cat thing.”

Red Hood pulled out his guns, checking that the darts were loaded and aiming for Spots.

“Chatte---guy with a gun!”

This time cat girl managed to look over and froze. She started… hyperventilating? Shit—kid’s having an attack.

Red Hood lowered his gun and made sure to get closer to her---seeing as the other heroes—Dragon girl, Monkey boy and Snake Guy were busy with the bee and fox girls trying to circle some kid on a pillow. No clue where the other kid in black was, but the cat girl losing it? that was his current focus.

“Kid, come on, breathe.”

“Oh my—” the kid looked at him like he was the threat. “Fuck, no—I shouldn’t have talked back to---shit. Shit, now I’m gonna—”

“VOYAGE!”

Just like that, Red Hood was dropped into Gotham harbor. Jason didn’t even get to look around to see what happened. He did manage to tread water and work out which was to go to get to shore.

“Oracle!”

“Jesus Hood—sending Robin to your location. What happened?”

“Some kids stole baby bats’ jewels, some akuma attack, the actual cat thief was hyperventilating and then I end up here.”

“Oh, B is not going to like this.”

“I already don’t like it.” Batman growled out over comms. “Did someone say voyage?”

Red Hood wracked his somewhat waterlogged brain. “In French, yes.”

“One of the local heroes.” Jason could feel Bruce’s annoyance. “Why were you in Paris.”

“Well,” Red Hood kept swimming to shore. “When you find out a long lost bat is in life threatening danger, one must locate and meet this possible winner of the ‘avoided having crappy parents raise me’ lottery to give a well-earned ‘congrats, you’re a well-adjusted person in a family of crimefighter! Mazel tav.”

“Hood.” Robin began on a private channel. “We need to talk.”

“Gotta go B, life to live, baby bat to find.”

“Red Hood!”

“Bye!” Red Hood climbed out of the harbor, finding his baby brother on his motorcycle that was definitely not Bruce-Approved.

“What’s up buttercup, didja miss me?”

Robin scowled at him. “Of course not, the world is more peaceful without the drivel that falls out of your mouth.”

Red Hood snorted. “Yeah, and that’s why you hide in my room all the time.”

Robin refused to make eye contact, shoving Red Hood onto his bike. “Is it true, did my sister lose her miraculous?”

“Unless she’s B and Catwoman’s lovechild and she decided to embrace it.”

Robin was quiet on the way to the cave. “…how long would it take to get the pilot to return and take me to Paris?”

“…you’d make it there around their in time for dessert.”

Robin frowned. “that’s not soon enough.”

“Closest you’ll get. And don’t’ think you’re going alone.”

Robin frowned. “I am not exposing my sister to you.”

“She’s our sister first of all,” Red Hood corrected. “and second of all, I have a bet to win, and I’m behind thanks to this portal guy. So I’m coming.”

Robin rolled his eyes. “Only if you get past Father and Alfred.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Robin smirked as they pulled into the Batcave.

“Father, I believe Red Hood needs your full attention given he was in the harbor for so long, and we all know how cold they are this time of year.”

Jason decided Damian was by and far his least favorite sibling in that moment. “Wait, B, no, look—no signs of hypothermia, no shaking, just need to change and—”

“I will check and ensure you don’t develop it with Alfred on standby.”

Jason glared at Damian, already stripping from his Robin gear with that self-satisfied smirk. “Traitor!”

“I simply want what is best for my siblings, how is that wrong?”

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I hope this gave you all a good idea of what’s going to happen next… I do love the Batfam and all, but some of their approaches here… no good and need to have that hit over their head.

And if I’m screwing up ladybats characterization, feel free to let me know so I can fix it---going off what I could find from DC fans and lore but I also do not know these characters inside and out, and want to do them justice.

OH and for anytime i refrence princess Justice, got a refrence for you now! picture the one made by @tinymelonbug right here with the only (maybe?) change being that below the cut it is cut off as a romper: Here

TAGS:

@heldtogetherbysafetypins @laurcad123 @raisuke06 @chaosace @jeminiikrystal @toodaloo-kangaroo @kris-pines04

#maribat #bio!dad bruce #marinette did not sign up for this #part 5 #long post #ml au #my writing #how do i tag?

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erika---k · 4 years

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Translation of Pernille’s interview from Elfen Fußball-Magazin

Middle part translated by @nerdyduckprince, rest by me

Thanks to @fcb-sweden and her anon for providing the article.

In the article it sounds like they were not very publicly open about their relationship before the wc, which I am aware isn’t true! But that’s how the article goes...

Work hard, play harder

The best in the world?

Pernille Harder of Vfl Wolfsburg is the best player of the flyeralarm Women’s Bundesliga. Two years ago the British guardian even chose her as the top female footballer of the earth.

The Dane collects as many championships, cup wins and Torjägerkanonen (the Bundesliga’s award for the top scorer) as she wants and on the side she also became an ambassador for the LGBT-community. But all of that isn’t enough for her yet.

You have to see special athletes live to see the whole spectrum of their qualities. Usain Bolts incredible endspeed, LeBron James’ superhuman physique or Roger Federer’s unreached precision just unfold in front of an observer actually in attendance.

It’s similar with Pernille Harder. Sure, you know her name, her statistics, her career path paved with awards. For an impressive proof of her special class, though, you don’t need numbers nor trophies, but just fifteen minutes on a draughty february evening under the floodlights of Sinsheim. In this quarter of an hour the exceptional scorer from Denmark and her Wolfsburgers dismember the up to now second in the standings with every trick in the football book and showed her whole repertory.

Gala at the summit

After 30 seconds she takes the ball, lets the opponent get of and shoots with her left. Corner. Not a minute later she takes the ball and shoots with her right inside. Made from one piece, brilliant.

She prepares the 0:1 in minute with a well measured cross, just little later she fails scarcely with her heel. As the capstone of her gala performance a goal like a painting follows. She takes the ball with the outside of her boot, then she gets on the ball in the penalty box, Luana Bühler from Hoffenheim sails out of the picture and the blonde from the North casually plays the ball through the legs of TSV-goalkeeper Leitig. 0:2, the summit is decided, world class confirmed - all in the compact format for the Tagesschau (main evening news) and without a single misplaced pass.

Demonstrations like these aren’t a rarity for Pernille Harder. She works in the attack vertex of Wolfsburg as the “free radical”, as the one to show the room behind striker Ewa Pajor. Her equally excellent use of both feet, her excellent eye and her extraordinary technique allow her to make a difference almost everywhere on the pitch and to maraud between the opponents' defense lines.

“It’s very important to me that people can be true to whom they fall in love with.”

“I’m most comfortable in the creative role of the offensive midfield. Of course I want to score, but I also want to shape the game and put my teammates in the limelight”, Harder emphasizes, who downright studies other distinguished players, of both genders. “From Cristiano Ronaldo I mainly analyse his running in the box. But I also look at midfield strategists like Iniesta or Xavi, to learn more about game organisation.” If you need to find a comparison in the men’s football, you might think of Dennis Bergkamp. Harder shares more than the hair colour with the delicate Dutch, for example an enormous playing intelligence and a world class format with and without the ball.

Considering her more multifunctional position away from the classical front striker it’s all the more surprising, that Europe’s footballer of the year 2018 criticizes herself so often. In front of the opponents’ goal Harder stays nordic-cool and uses her chances. After she scored 92 times in 100 games

In 100 games for Wolfsburg she has scored 92 times, in an interview she says, I would rather have had 100 goals. A joke, of course, but with a bit of truth. “I am never satisfied, i am a perfectionist.” Already at 10 wrote the daughter of a soccer coach in an essay at school that she would want to become the best player in the world. From her point of view she has this goal is far from being achieved, even if the Guardian has named her as this in 2018. “more important than a one-time award is it, to hold this level over several years.”

For this Harder works very hard, since ten years with a mental coach. Even for her career she has a stringent plan, the plan fits for her preference for math and physics. In 2012 she went from her home country to Linköping in Sweden, four years later she goes to the top club VFL Wolfsburg. “After school I want to go to a Scandinavian country as an intermediate step. After that I was ready to go to a German top club, it was a dream of mine.”

In contrast, her private life did not develop according to plan. In Linköping she fell in love with her teammade Magdalena Eriksson. At the first time only family and friends knew about their relationship. Later with a picture of them kissing at the World Cup in 2019, where Magda represented Sweden and Harder was in the stands to support her, because Denmark did not qualify, the public coming out happend.

A kiss as coming-out

“The picture is from a spontaneous moment and we were surprised by the attention. The reaction was the mostly positive, many wrote to us that we give them hope to stand for what they are. And then we realized that we have a platform to speak.” Now we engage in Juan Mata's Common Goal, we give 1% of our salary. “For me it's important that all people can be open with their life and their love. I would love that this would be also by the men’s, that a active player would coming out, for sure it has gay players. The culture in men’s football is still outdated and the response would be different.”

Also in football Hader and Eriksson complete each other perfectly. “We both love to talk about Football. And it is perfect that I am a striker and she is a defender, she can tell me what is difficult for her about a striker and I can give her advice on what is suitable to keep attackers in check and annoy them.

To the question if she would like to play in the same club with her girlfriend again instead of discussing their achievements via Facetime Harder answers professionally evasively. “Sure it would be nice, but only if it makes sense for us football-wise. None of us wants to cut down or choose the second best situation just so we can be together.”

No million-dollar-baby for now

This diplomatic answer doesn’t surprise, since this wish might have come true sooner than Harder’s contract at Wolfsburg, that runs until summer 2021, provided for. Allegedly it contained a release clause that, that until the end of March would have made it possible for the FC Chelsae to lure Danmark’s record scorer to the Themse by paying a middle high six figure fee. And at the high end club from the west of London that regularly belongs to the candidates for the Champions League as well as the English league and with the signing of the Ex-Bayern captain Melanie Leupolz just poached in Germany again… Who is also employed there with a decent salary? Exactly, Magdalena Eriksson. Manchester United, that is said to also be interested and whose men’s team Harder admired already as a teenager, seems to just be an outsider in the fight for her services. It probably were the turmoils from the Corona virus that prevented one of the British big clubs from picking up the Dane now already and would have made her the most expensive female player of all times. The joined search of a new club by the power couple Harder/Eriksson is that way assumingly postponed to the summer 2021.

“I’m never content, a real perfectionist.”

So the fans of the Vfl Wolfsburg can probably look forward to a new season with their superstar. But also football enthusiasts, who don’t cheer for the Lower Saxons can just be advised to use the perhaps last chances to admire Pernille Harder at a German stadium. Because the best of the world have to be experienced live.

#pernille harder #vfl wolfsburg #magdalena eriksson

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missjosie27 · 4 years

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Year 3 Part 5- To Hogsmeade

Hey, guys! Another chapter is here! Hope you like it

True to her word, Professor McGonagall granted him access to Hogsmeade upon learning of his marks in charms.

“You have kept your end of the deal, Mr. Grant. With your permission slip, I will allow you to join your classmates this weekend in Hogsmeade.”

She said this with a limited smile, a rarity for the strict Transfiguration master though David privately thought she still didn’t look thrilled by the idea. He wondered if Dumbledore had been involved in this whole situation. Still, he wasn’t one to push his luck…most of the time.

“Thank you, Professor McGonagall,” he said.

“And Mr. Grant. Do try to enjoy yourself as opposed to finding more trouble.”

They had gone in a group- Rowan, Ben, Charlie, Penny, Chiara, Tonks, and himself. Some of the Ravenclaws were just in front of them while the Slytherins, predictably, were way behind.

“You did it,” Rowan told him excitedly. “You’re going to Hogsmeade and all the bells and whistles that come with it.”

“And you’re brother too,” Ben added.

“Perfect excuse. We need to take a visit to the Three Broomsticks anyway. You have got to try butterbeer, Ben. First one is on me.”

David was still a bit miffed at McGonagall’s parting remark, but it didn’t dampen his spirits too much. His immediate mission was accomplished and now he could spend a day goofing off and find out more about Jacob. It was a win-win.

“Personally, I can’t wait to check out Zonkos,” Tonks said with a rather mischievous smirk on her face.

“What’s Zonkos?” Chiara asked.

“Only the finest supplier of prank and gag items known to wizardkind,” she responded excitedly. “And exactly what I need to surprise a certain librarian and a certain caretaker.”

“There’s also Honeydukes!” Penny pipped up. “My mom took me once when I was little. I’ve always wanted to come back and try their strawberry chocolates.”

“What do you reckon we should do first, Dave?” Rowan asked. “I know you need to talk to Madam Rosmerta. Do you have a preference?”

Up until now, David hadn’t spoken as he was mulling over that same question. They had until sundown to return to the castle which was plenty of time to both explore and talk to Rosmerta. He didn’t have to meet Hagrid until just after lunch.

“Let’s go visit some of the shops,” he said at last. “I don’t have to go to the Three Broomsticks right away. It’s pretty packed in there right now anyway.”

“I like the way you think, Dave!” Tonks grinned. “Let’s go!”

For older students such as Bill (who was with a couple of friends in his year) the novelty had worn off a bit. For those making their first visitations or only been once before, it was a wonderland. Though the day was windy, it was also bright and sunny, and those days were going to be few and far between in the highlands of Scotland as the year went deeper into Autumn.

The village itself wasn’t all that different in appearance than a standard muggle one, however there was one key difference and that was magic. Only witches and wizards lived here and it livened up the atmosphere considerably. Colorful posters announcing deals or sales adorned the little shops and taverns. Children laughed and played in the street. There was a flurry of activity every which one looked and from everything the third years had heard, the first impression did not disappoint.

Tonks had a field day in Zonkos and stocked up on items such as biting tea cups, frog spawn soap, and dungbombs. Against his better judgment, David also bought a couple dungbombs to be used at his own discretion and entertainment. The discovery of Penny’s sweet tooth was quite evident as she could barely stop eating the honeydukes chocolate and Tonks had to calm her down from an enormous sugar high. Chiara and Penny were also very fixated on Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop, as it was a popular getaway for Hogwarts boys and girls looking to take each other on dates. The boys (and Tonks), however, weren’t as keen and simply allowed the girls to swoon over the potential romanticism before they moved onto a dress shop.

“I don’t get why they care so much,” Ben whispered nervously.

“It’s just girl stuff,” David muttered back. “Don’t try to understand it, just nod your head and change the subject as quickly as possible.”

“Bill says we’re going to be the ones on those dates in just a couple years,” Ben responded. “Is that true?”

“My brother is pretty popular with the ladies,” Charlie cut in. “He may tease sometimes but he doesn’t bullshit. He’s probably right. Speaking of, he told me to meet him over at the Shrieking Shack. Supposedly the most haunted building in Britain and he wants to show it to me. Anyone want to come?”

“I’m in!” Rowan said eagerly. He never turned down an opportunity to hang out with Bill. “How about you Ben?”

The blond boy fidgeted heavily with his hands.

“Haunted buildings really aren’t my cup of tea.”

“Come on, Ben. We’ll all be there,” Charlie encouraged. “Just us mates. Dave’s coming too right?”

“Actually, it’s almost past one. I can’t keep Hagrid waiting too much longer.”

Rowan nodded understandingly.

“Don’t wait another minute. We’ll rendezvous later at the Three Broomsticks later on.”

“You know where it is right?” Charlie asked.

Truthfully, David didn’t know where it was at all, but he figured he’d find his way. It was a village not the streets of London. It couldn’t be that hard.

“Yeah, I know where I’m going. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Good luck, Dave!”

The other three boys made their way north to the location of the shack while David went on his way. He figured he would come across a sign or some other landmark indicating the inn but the wind was picking up and it was taking a toll on his sight and movement. He looked up towards the sky; still sunny but clouds were rolling in and the little warmth received from the sun would soon be overcast. Zipping up his red hoodie jacket, he resolved to press forward.

Can’t be that far right?

Suddenly, a voice called out to him.

“First time in Hogsmeade?”

To his right he saw a tall, black boy regarding him with both friendliness and mild amusement. David vaguely recognized him as a Ravenclaw in his own year. He decided to approach him.

“How’d you guess?”

The Ravenclaw gave a grin.

“You have that look about you. Excited, cold, and not exactly sure where you’re going. I’m Andre Egwu, by the way.”

He offered out his hand, which David took.

“Oh yeah, I remember you from flying class. You’re also the keeper on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team if I recall correctly and pretty damn good at it. People talk about you as much as Charlie or Skye.”

“Charlie and Skye deserve the attention. Especially given that Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup pretty handily last year. But Quidditch is a passion of mine and I hope to play in the professional leagues someday. That’s why I wear my Pride of Portree scarf every chance I get to go to Hogsmeade. Best team in the league.”

David, knowing his Quidditch couldn’t deny that. Portree had won the British league for three years running.

“So they are. But you make it sound you’ve been here before.”

“It’s because I have. My parents take my sister and I to Hogsmeade even when we’re not in school. Gladrags Wizard Wear is one of my favorite places to shop for clothes.”

David resisted the urge to chuckle, instead choosing a tone of surprise.

“I didn’t think top Quidditch blokes were fashion aficionados.”

It was true. Glancing at Andre up and down it was clear that this was a person who cared a great deal about his appearance. In addition to his scarf, he wore a fleece jacket with the collars up, dress jeans, and a very nice pair of what looked like Italian shoes. In addition to that, his hair was expertly cut into a fade. To say he was stylish was an understatement.

“Clothes make the wizard,” Andre replied with gusto. “The better you look, the better you feel, the better you are at Quidditch. Or in your case, curse breaking.”

“I take it you heard about that, then?”

It was a stupid question. Almost everyone in Hogwarts had. But broad acknowledgement for the accomplishment as opposed to being seen as potentially mad still took some getting used to. But the emotion on Andre’s face wasn’t just admiration, it was gratitude.

“That cursed ice had me trapped in the Quidditch changing room until you broke that curse inside the vault. You saved my life.”

“Think nothing of it. I had plenty of help from my friends.”

Andre smiled and he reached into a bag by his side.

“Well as a token of my thanks, I’d like to offer you this scarf. It is quite blustery out here today and when I saw you shivering down the street, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”

David gladly took it. It was made of a very quality wool, patterned in dark gold and red, his house colors. Quite thoughtful, indeed.

“This is brilliant, Andre. Thank you.”

“A stylish gift for a worthy curse breaker such as yourself,” the black teen affirmed. “I’ll say this for sure: it won’t be hard for you to find a date or a girl to take to the next ball.”

He couldn’t resist laughing this time, thinking back to Penny and Chiara fawning over Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop.

“It’s a bit early to be thinking about, no? I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Never too early to start thinking about girls,” Andre replied with a wink. “It may seem ridiculous to you now, but you’ll start to notice sooner rather than later. And when that day comes, my door is wide open.”

David’s first impression of the Ravenclaw lad was certainly unique but he certainly sensed no ill will from him. Just that his interests seemed to be ahead of most people their age.

“I’ll take you up on that someday. Thanks, Andre.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They shook hands once more and he prepared to depart. But before he did, he turned around one last time.

“Uh, by the way, where’s-”

“The Three Broomsticks?” Andre smiled knowingly. “Fifty feet up the hill to your right.”

Interesting guy that Andre Egwu

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Three Broomsticks had a reputation that preceded it. It was a cozy, lively atmosphere filled with patrons of all sorts, a bustling tavern frequented by locals and tourists alike. Inside was a building largely made of fine wood, filled with various tables and booths. There was also a second floor for private parties but most people appeared content to mingle with the crowd. In fact, it was so packed David was fairly certain it would have taken him quite a bit of time to find any standard human being.

Fortunately, Hagrid was not a standard human being and spotting him was a simple matter. As soon as they caught sight of each other he waved a huge hand.

“David! Over here!”

Sifting through the crowd, he managed to squeeze through two rather portly men, one of which had a walrus-like mustache and a glass of fine wine in his hand. Ducking underneath the outstretched jovial arm, he finally made it to where Hagrid was standing.

“Welcome ter the Three Broomsticks!” he said in his usual cheerful tone. “What do ye think so far?”

“Seems like a lot of fun,” David remarked with a smile. “Is it always this packed?”

“Aye. It’s very popular. The students pack it even more on weekends such as this. Though ye get used ter it.”

Just then they were interrupted by an attractive, curvaceous woman with long, flowing blonde hair and a pretty face. She wore an ankle length dress and a plain apron but her cheeks were naturally rose and held a natural, festive glow.

“Hello, Hagrid! Good to see you again.”

“The same ter you, Rosmerta. Lookin as lovely as ever.”

“You’re sweet as always. Can I get you all anything?”

David couldn’t be sure but he thought Rosmerta’s eyes lingered over him for a half second longer than normal.

“A round of butterbeers, please.”

Sensing a chance to ask questions, the young Gryffindor tried to introduce himself.

“Madam Rosmerta I was wondering if-”

“Half a moment, dear,” she quickly interrupted. “I’ve got other tables to attend to. Be back soon.”

Visibly deflating at her departure, Hagrid noticed this and tried to cheer him up.

“Not ter worry, David. She’s a busy woman runnin’ this place. She knows who ye are and she’ll tell ye everything ye want ter know about yer brother.”

Realizing it would do no good to mope or complain, David supposed there was nothing more he could do until the bar matron returned.

“You’re right, Hagrid. Can’t wait to drink one of those butterbeers.”

The giant man looked down on him with a curious eyebrow.

“Never had one before? I thought ye were from a wizard family, Dave.”

“I did when I was little, but it’s been awhile. Mum won’t let me have anything in the way of sweets.”

He and Hagrid grabbed a table and talked like this for about fifteen minutes, sharing details of each other’s lives not previously known, though the latter was a tad more vague with his answers. David thought nothing of it, however and was content to laugh and share companionship with the gamekeeper, who was good company. He made a silent note to interact with him more often.

Soon enough, Rosmerta returned with a tray of butterbeers in hand.

“Cheers, Dave!” Hagrid said, clinking their glasses, almost toppling over the contents of his friend’s butterbeer. Taking a sip, a wave of sweet, warm, frothy goodness engulfed his senses. It was easily one of the tastiest concoctions ever invented in the history of wizard kind.

“Just as good as I remembered,” he said, giving a satisfied sigh.

“I’m glad you like it, dear,” Rosmerta said kindly. “I apologize for hurrying off earlier. Busy weekend. What would you like to know about your brother?”

David was slightly surprised.

“How did you know who I was?”

“It wasn’t hard to figure out,” the bar maiden said with a knowing twinkle in her blue eyes. “You and your brother look very much alike. That look of surprise you gave me just now was reminiscent of what he used to do. Plus, I must admit Hagrid filled me in a bit beforehand.”

Though siblings, David never came across many people who commented he and Jacob looked similar. His older brother was much broader, with a different shaped nose along with brown eyes as opposed to his own hazel-blue. Nevertheless, he supposed it would make sense Rosmerta might recognize him. Perhaps she saw something others did not.

“David wanted ter ask ye a question or two about Jacob,” Hagrid explained.

“I can spare just a few minutes,” Rosmerta smiled. “What would you like to know?”

Where to start? So much of Jacob was a mystery to him now and any information he could garner was a boon not merely in the quest to find the vaults but to satiate his own desire for that knowledge.

“Madam Rosmerta, I heard you knew him in his time at Hogwarts. What was he like? Did mention anything about the Cursed Vaults?”

A nostalgic look came across her pretty features.

“I remember Jacob quite well...quiet boy. Very sweet. He spent a lot of time at the bar scribbling in notebooks.”

That certainly perked his interest.

“Notebooks you say?”

“Aye. Then one day a pair of Ministry officials showed up, grabbed him by the hood of his robes and dragged him out the door. They demanded he hand over any information he held on the vaults, but they found nothing. Only thing he left behind was a black quill.”

Another black quill

“Madam Rosmerta do you still have that quill? I’ll do anything to have it, I swear.”

That emitted a chuckle from the curvy innkeeper.

“Settle down, Dave. I’ll go look in the back. I never throw anything anyway so it should be around somewhere.”

“Thank you so much!”

“Think nothing of it,” she replied kindly. “Though it may take awhile longer. There are still a lot of customers to service and it’s quite cluttered in my office.”

“I’ll wait as long as I need to, Madam Rosmerta.”

“Very well then. I’ll score up another round for your table while I’m at it. Be back soon, dear.”

David did his best to engage in further conversation with Hagrid to temper his impatience. It was best not to push his luck while he still retained some of it. If the gameskeeper suspected or believed he might be after the vaults again, it wouldn’t take long for Dumbledore to find out and that wouldn’t be good for anyone. Which also begged the question once more: was he still interested in the vaults themselves? Or just his brother? Perhaps the two were intertwined.

Before he could think about it more, Rosmerta returned about an hour later, black quill in hand.

“Here you are, hun. Sorry it took me a little while to find. But it’s yours now. Use it well.”

Ecstatic happiness surged through David and he took the quill a little too quickly.

“Er...sorry. Thank you Madam Rosmerta.”

But the blonde woman took it in stride with understanding.

“Any time, David. And next time you’re here I may need some help. Would you be okay waiting tables now and again?”

“Think nothing of it.”

She gave one last sweet smile and waved goodbye.

“It was very nice to meet you, David. When you find Jacob, tell him I said hello.”

He nodded while Hagrid beamed at him.

“Fine woman, Rosmerta is. Yeh can always trust her ter help people when they need it. Just promise me you won’t do anythin reckless with that quill.”

David nodded even if he had no idea what information the quill possessed, he was quite convinced in the moment nothing ill fated could come of knowing its contents.

“Of course, Hagrid.”

“You know, Dave, you should come by me hut some time. Fang’s gettin big now and we love havin guests over. I could bake a batch o’ me rock cakes.”

He had no idea what rock cakes were or even how good Hagrid was at cooking but he couldn’t help but appreciate the genuineness of the man. In the course of his Hogwarts career, he single handedly saved him from Devil’s Snare, alerted him to the spreading cursed ice, and helped him whenever he asked for it. The least he could do was return the favor.

“I’d love to, Hagrid. Just send me an owl and I’m there.”

The giant man clinked his glass once more, this time sending the contents all over his new scarf.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He reunited with his friends a short time later as the sun settled into the west, signaling that it was time to return to Hogwarts. Charlie, Bill, and Rowan were discussing their foray into the Shrieking Shack while Ben preferred not to talk about it. Penny and Chiara continued to giggle over Madam Puddifoot’s (and boys they’d take there which David didn’t really pay attention to). Tonks hung back with David, talking loudly over the wind about the black quill.

“So the Ministry found nothing on him?” the pink haired witch snickered. “That is the ultimate prank.”

“More so than that. It means they never knew what he was truly up to. He must have somehow hidden his notes within this quill.”

“You can do that?”

“Professor McGonagall’s been teaching me about all kinds of transfiguration this year, including switching spells in our advanced lessons. Definitely possible to turn a book into another unidentified object.”

“That’s some pretty advanced transfiguration,” Tonks said, clearly impressed.

David shrugged.

“Guess it runs in the family. McGonagall says I’m the best she’s seen in a decade.”

“Well I’m already a master at transfiguration,” the Hufflepuff said waggling her eyebrows, changing her appearance to that of a duck, to a koala bear, to that of Celestina Warback.

“You got original material left?” David yawned.

“Wanker. Anyway what do you think the quill contains? Can I see it?”

He obliged by pulling it out of his left jacket pocket.

“Nothing too out of the ordinary. All we have to do is use ‘repifarage’ to untransfigure it and…”

“You lot aren’t going to be untransfiguring anything.”

Out of the shadows in front of the entrance to the school stepped Argus Filch, the Hogwarts caretaker, looking as grouchy and unpleasant as ever. And judging by his expression he’d overheard everything they were talking about. Quick as a flash for someone who clearly suffered from rheumatism, he snatched the quill out of David’s outstretched hand.

“Hey! Give that back That belongs to me!”

“Not anymore it don’t,” Filch leered towards him. “I’ll be addin it to the collection of confiscated contraband to my office. Professor Snape’s orders of course…”

David highly doubted the cantankerous old man had any such orders and seizing one of his legitimate belongings was surely out his purview. Feeling himself becoming furious, he gripped his wand in blind rage before Tonks gripped his arm and shook her head in an effort to calm him.

“Now beat it ya nasty scallywags. On with ya!”

They ducked a swipe from Filch and ran off, but not before David cursed up a storm once they were far enough away.

“Language, David. I didn’t know you knew such colorful phrases.”

“You would too if you had an older sibling...and just had the one chance of finding said sibling robbed from you by a quivery old git.”

“Patience, my hot blooded Gryffindor friend,” Tonks told him. “All we have to do is simply get the quill back.”

“Yeah? And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

Tonks grinned at him with a smile that practically radiated mischief.

“Leave that to me. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s taking the mickey out of Filch.”

#hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm fanfiction #fanfiction #gryffindor #david grant #writing #penny haywood #nymphadora tonks #andre egwu #chiara lobosca #rowan khanna #ben copper #charlie weasley #jae kim #rubeus hagrid #minerva mcgonagall #madam rosmerta #mc

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yamithediaperdork · 4 years

Text

Ash’s new daddy (Pokemon)

Ash sighed softly as he looked at his mom leaning on the door frame of his room. He'd been back in town for all of a week and already he was remembering why he preferred to travel with his friends, even if Brock and misty had left him to do their own thing after coming back from the jotho league where Ash had not only lost, he'd been destroyed, coming in last place. His mom had been somewhat blunt about not being surprised, though she tried to cover it up saying she bet he was just suffering from diaper rash again. Diaper rash..like that was something he wanted to talk about when he was 18 now but his bed wetting had only gotten worse since he left and while back when he was 9 he'd been able to go several nights in a row without soaking the bed, as a trainer out in the big old world he was pissing himself nightly. (And when Brock and Misty had found out they insisted on making sure Ash was wearing, which had been humiliating enough.) Still having his best friend and on again off again girlfriend making sure he was diapered was nothing compared to his mom insisting on handling ash's night time diapering herself, which involved rash cream and baby powder and she'd gone as far as to shave his pubes off. "well, I'm waiting on a answer sweetie." His mom said, bringing him back to the here and now and he sighed, looking at the pack of diapers she was holding in one hand. She'd apparently while out with her new mystery friend (who she STILL refused to tell him who it was) gotten a new brand of diapers which instead of being the youth brand ones, were apparently for bigger boys like ash (he hated how she had phased that) who just couldn't seem to stay dry. and they looked huge, the pack was the size of his normal diapers but while they had 18 to a pack, this apparently just had 8! since it was going on 6 pm, she'd come up to his room where he'd been playing a video game and suggested that since neither of them were going out tonight, she could just put him in one of them now, and see how they fit. "I..I can just try one on now then take it off if you really want mom." Ash said finally and his mom clicked her touge and shook her head. "I don't think so little man. you wouldn't believe what mommy had to pay for these!" she said and moved into his room now, plopping the pack on his bed. "When you're the one buying all the diapers, then you can waste them or buy what you want, but -somebody- blew the last of his winnings on a silly video game console." She said. "S'not silly..it came with the latest games and-" he trailed off as she gave him THAT look. it was one he'd seen a lot since getting home and he knew by now it meant he could go along with what she wanted to do willingly, or he could huff and pout, but she was getting her way. "..Shouldn't I go for a bath first then if i can't take one before bed?" he asked meekly. "Heh, good point Ashy. you do smell a little ripe, but mommy was trying to be nice. She said and leaned in and kissed his forehead. with a pat on his butt he was sent on his way for his bath while she got his diapers preped.

Delia hummed to herself as she opened the pack, marveling at just how massive and thick these diapers were, and unlike the other ones her little Ashy had been wearing (the last he'd brought for himself) there was no pretending these were underwear. the crinkling plastic and the nursery print on them was suppose to help shame big boys into stopping their babyish accidents and for a second she regretted not getting the sissy option instead, thinking how adorable ashy would of looked in frills. Butttt her boyfriend had told her baby steps with this sorta thing and he knew best. Just thinking about her man made her smile and blush but she quickly banished the thoughts from her head, it would hardly send a good message to ashy if he came back and mommy was soaking his bed with her love juices after all.

Ash stayed in the tub as long as he could, trying to get it at least semi closer to his strict 10 pm bedtime before he got his butt put back in diapers. the whole thing was just stupid but no one in the area was battling for money anymore and while Gary was home too from the Jotho league, he was flushed with cash after winning the whole thing. Brock made it clear while he sympathized with ash's situation, he couldn't really put ash up, and Misty was too busy in Cerulan city to even think about that. (Plus she'd accidentally let her sisters know about his bed time attire and they had been all eager to see him in just his diapies, something that despite the heat of the bath water made him shiver.) So, unless ash wanted to sleep in the woods he had to do things mom's way and like it. there was a knock at the door and Delia opened it and gave ash a playful smile. "I think 30 minutes is enough..did you at least wash up before playing squirtle?" she asked. (squirtle being a game ash hadn't played since he was 4, where well, he'd pretend to be the pokemon while in the tub.) "Oh uh..Noooot yet." ash squeaked, though he didn't bother to cover himself up. His mom had made it clear if she was changing his wet diapers then there was no reason for him to be shy about her seeing him in the tub. "-sigh- Little boys..I think from now on Mommies gonna make sure to wash you before she leave you to play.. get your hair nice and wet ashy." She said, coming over and grabbing the shampoo bottle. "M-Mom what are you doing? I can wash myself." Ash whined. "Really? because I believe I just caught someone who was suppose to be getting clean just playing in the tub. now get your hair wet for mommy little man." praying she was going to at least let him wash his balls himself ash leaned back in the tub.

All cleaned up and smelling kinda girly (Mom had accidentally used her shampoo instead of his) Ash was wrapped up in a towel and paused to look at the diaper laying opened on his bed, and getting a better look at it. "Come on, we don't have all night to wait for you." His mom teased and with a playful pat on his butt he inched closer. "Moooom! they look big baby diapers!" he whined and pouted. She smirked and tugged the towel away from him and showing a surprising amount of power, slowly got him over to the bed and pushed him butt first onto the diaper. "I've heard just about all the whining I'm going to put up with tonight little man. one more whimper and you can forget about getting any ice cream after supper tonight!" she scolded him lightly. "....." ash sulked and huffed as he laid back, knowing the fight was all but over but had muttered something that if his mom knew he'd said, he'd of been over her knee. "I'm sorry, what was that?" she asked, working the rash cream in. "Yes mommy..sorry." ash said in a sulky tone. "That's what i thought."

The diaper looked massive on Ash's hip's and Delia had to fight to keep from laughing at how silly her so called big boy looked. the bulk pushed his legs apart and he couldn't bring them together and well, there was no two ways about it. he wasn't walking in that diaper he was flat out waddling. to go with the diaper she had picked out one of his 'super macho' shirts that still fit him, though he'd stopped following the series about a superhero machamp when he'd been 9. (then again the only real worried she had about it not fitting since ash was still her little shorty was that with all the sweets he'd been packing away recently and the lack of exercise he'd be a little too pudgy.) ash had of course whined for some pants to put over his diapers and Delia had agreed but was sercetly delighted as it turned out that not a single pair of pants or shorts would fit over her son's massive diaper butt. "We'll go shoping this weekend and get some bigger pj bottoms for you." She promised. "..great..now I have to waddle around like this all night.. can you go and make sure the curtains are closed downstairs? I don't want the whole block seeing this." Ash huffed. the pout, the arm's crossed pose and his attire just was too much, he looked like a super tall toddler and that was all there was too it and Delia laughed, then covered her mouth. "Moooom! S'not funny!" ash whined and stomped a foot. "Y-Your not making this easy to s-stop laughing sweetie! and don't worry about people seeing you." She said, desperately trying not to laugh more. "why?" "oh, Mommy didn't cover the diapers up in a bag when she came back and they were having a little get together at the johnsons, so they all saw. they invited us over but I kn-" she said. "YOU WHAT!? Mommy how could you!" ash whined and went to race out of the room. where he was planning on going or what he was gonna do she wasn't sure because the bulk of the diaper meant he made it all of five steps before he lost his balance and ended up plopping on his butt with a started look, then started to bawl. 'and they ask me why I never wanted a anther baby..' she thought dryly then moved over to comfort her big baby of a son.

Ash wished he could stop sobbing as his mom carried him down the stairs, holding him to her chest and her arm under his stupid big diaper butt. the fall hadn't of really hurt just, with the outfit and finding out everyone knew.. How would he even be able to go out and face the other kids on the block now? It was bad enough that GARY knew about his bed wetting and had seen him in the diapers when he'd- but even just the start of that thought started a fresh wave of tears and ash buried his face into his mom's shoulder. she was rubbing his back and coo'ing softly to him now and he didn't bother to look up till he felt himself sat on the floor and then something rubbery was pushed gently between his lips. it wasn't till some forgotten urge triggered and he started to nurse on it he realized he'd just been pacified, literally. As his mom smiled at him and used a face cloth to dry his cheeks, the most damning thing of all was while he was humiliated she'd actually gotten him a pacifier (and god, what if that had been part of her shopping spree today!?) Ash couldn't bring himself to spit it out AND it was calming him down.

Delia gave ash's forehead a kiss as she watched him nurse, confused but calming down and thought about just how smart it had been to have Mr.mime give him a nursing instinct. 'I'll have to thank lover boy for that thought when he gets over here.' She thought and then after getting some cartoons on the tv for ash (She'd actually gone and found a DVD of the old super macho cartoons) She gave his hair a ruffle. "Mommy needs to go and make dinner now sweetie. you watch this and if you need anything call for mommy ok?" she asked. ash squirmed like crazy but gave her a head nod back, blushing but clearly losing himself into his show. "Good boy~" she coo'ed and walked out.

At some point Ash just stopped caring, he knew the windows were open but was sure with his spot on the floor no one was gonna see him unless they came RIGHT up to the window, and then he'd call out for mom if that happened. he'd forgotten just how much he'd loved this show and grinned around his paci, trying to recall why he'd ever stopped watching it, then it came back to him. Gary had found out he still watched it and had called it a baby show, and ash had dropped it trying to be big and cool like Gary. 'Stupid Gary..can't believe I ever thought that girlfriend stealing ass hat was a friend!' he thought and for a second thought about how funny it would be to sit on Gary's face in his massive diaper and fart on him, giggling around the pacifier. 'not that i'd want him to see me like this though..thank god he's staying in virden city while they talk over him maybe becoming a gym leader.' It was anther sore point for ash. Gary had brought it up two days ago, claiming because of his dominating performance, the powers to be involved with the league wanted him to just be a gym leader, not a competitor to give other trainers a chance. he'd been in that stupid tight muscle shirt showing off his stupid big arms, and the shirts tightness did nothing to hide his abs and Ash had felt even chubbier then normal around him. (and it hadn't helped some girls had walked by and thought ash was Gary's LITTLE brother due to the height difference!) Just thinking about stupid Gary was getting Ash huffy again and he willed himself to be calm. 'it's just you and mom tonight. you're gonna have some nummy food, watch that new cop flick, and then off to bed.' he assured himself, then there was a knock at the door. "Ash, can you get that?" His mom called. "I'm busy getting these streaks right!" Pulling the pacifier out of his mouth, ash whined. "But mooom, I'm not wearing any pants!" "everyone already knows, remember sweetie? Please?" she called back. Huffing big time ash got to his feet and left the paci on the coffee table as he waddled to the front door and opened it, not looking out first to see who it was. he figured it was one of the neighbors trying to be nice, or someone preaching the word of celibi again. Instead dressed in a blue dress shirt and a pair of black dress pants, and holding a bottle of wine was Gary mother fucking Oak. "Hey little guy, you gonna stand there mouth open and letting the world see your cute outfit, or gonna invite your new daddy in?"

Gary smirked as he took in ash's outfit, it had been even easier then he'd expected or hoped to convince ash's mom that the loser should just be a big diaper baby. (then again when he made such arguments while plowing her stupid..welll) The big baby dork was STILL just standing there, struggling to think of what to say and Gary just sighed and gently pushed ash out of his way and walked in, shutting the door behind him. "Silly baby. do you want everyone on the block to see you in your diapies? I mean, if thats the case you can go outside and play buttt.." He laughed and patted ash on his fat diapered bottom then walked past him. he didn't need to look behind him to know that ash was waddling behind him like a toddler but didn't pay the loser any attention as he came into the kitchen. "Hey sweetie, I'm here for our date. I take it somebody forgot to tell little ashy it would be dinner for three?" he asked, setting the wine on the table and coming over and kissing Delia on the cheek, and groping her ass while she blushed. "O-Oh but I thought.." she started then giggled like a air haired bimbo. "I must of misunderstood, Sorry Honey." "it's ok. just means I get to have a talk with my new little man." Gary chuckled.

ash felt numb and just was trying desperately to process what it was he was seeing. there was no way his mom..and Gary.. the age difference alone! But there was no way his mom would of let Gary just manhandle her like that if it wasn't for the fact they were together. "I..I'm not your little man!" Ash finally squeaked out as Gary turned his attention back to him. "Uh-huh..Darling, how long is the wait on the food?" "Oh, about anther 10-15 minutes." Mom said. "Me and Junior here are gonna go have a talk in the living room and leave you to do that voodoo that you do so well." Gary said. with a slap to ash's mom ass Gary walked back out of the kitchen, taking the time to grab ash's hand and tug him along with him. and there was no way ash with his well, as his mom put it 'baby fat' was gonna be able to resist Gary's abs's of steel and he just let himself be lead. Gary took note of what was on TV, and then saw the pacifier on the coffee table and smirked at ash who found himself wishing he'd gone and turned the TV off, or tossed the pacifier. "still into your baby show huh? well I guess your dressed for it at least Loser." Gary said. his tone was friendly,though low even if the words weren't, and ash got the feeling that Gary was keeping his voice down to keep mom from hearing him. "I..what are..why are.."ash tried to ask, but kept fumbling over his words. Gary rolled his eyes and popped the paci in ash's mouth. "Shut up dumb ass. Just like when I stole your little girlfriend, just like when I bribed the joy NOT to heal your pokemon before your first match in the league..when I'd paid team rocket off to exhaust them before hand, and just like when I convinced your mother that your just a big fucking baby loser..I'm putting you in your fucking place. I mean fuck..you're 18 years old and you look almost younger then when we started out as trainers..and that's not just from your current attire. face the facts loser, you belong in diapers, sucking on a pacifier and sobbing while a REAL man comes into your mom's life and gives her a break from changing your shitty diapers." ash was blushing and tearing up as Gary spoke, and suckled hard on the paci but had to stand up for himself at that last bit, and went to tell Gary he didn't poop in his diapers. the only problem was his pacifier was STILL in his mouth as he went to do so and gibberish is the only thing that escaped. Gary laughed out loud at that and when ash moved a hand to pull the paci out, he poked his index finger on it keeping it pinned in place. "You pull that out and I'm replacing it with my cock." Gary said. Ash's eyes went wide at that. He didn't doubt Gary for a second since he'd turned ash's friend Richie against him, getting Richie to call him a loser and cut off all ties by letting the beta boy go to town on his cock. He'd even sent ash a picture of it, Richie balls deep, drool going down his chin and Gary and Richie flipping ash off. (Gary didn't consider it gay if he wasn't the one slobbering on the dick) "I already know what your gonna say anyways loser. that you don't shit your huggies. well you're gonna start. Don't expect any mercy from your mom either, unless you count her using extra lotion a mercy. she's my cock drunk slut and will do anything I say." Ash suckled hard on the paci now, and tears started to well up in his eyes and Gary smirked. "Awww is widdle ashy gonna cry in him's diapies while his new daddy knocks him's mommy up? Go ahead loser. your tears only make it hotter for me, and give me like, I dunno..1..2 hours, and your mommy is gonna think you sobbing in shame is hot too." right about then mom's voice rang out, telling them that supper was ready and she had her head poked around the corner. "oh, what's wrong?" "oh, Little ashy is just having his new life explained to him, and is a little upset. it's ok though. I know how much he loves being embarrassed." Gary said and then, as if in a mockery of a good dad, wiped ash's tears and kissed him on the cheek. "Come on lil guy, we'll go eat supper and me and your mommy will make sure your all super embarrassed so you can feel like a good stupid big baby ok?" he was holding Ash's hand as he said that and gave a painful squeeze and so ash nodded lots. his mom, his only ray of hope in all of this laughed. "I knew you loved being a dumb big baby more then you let on sweetie! come on er.." she paused and looked to Gary for help. "Loser." he supplied helpfully. "Loser. come eat din din with mommy and daddy." she finished. ash found himself wishing he'd never been turned back from stone as he waddled to the dinning room.

Coming into the dinning room Delia blushed a little as she had a couple of towels down on the floor with ash's plate and a baby bottle filled with grape juice setting on it. "Don't take this the wrong way sweetie but I don't think you'll be comfortable or safe trying to sit in a normal chair with your super thick diapie on." She said and giggled a little. "And i would hate to have my widdle baby loser fall and go boom." Ash suckled hard on his paci and turned around, as if huffing and Gary swatted his fat diapered ass. "Hey! you're mom is just thinking of you! take your paci out and say thank you!" Gary scolded. "I'll get him a high chair tomorrow, maybe take him with me so we can get one that'll fit his big diapered ass." Delia sighed, Gary was just SUCH a good daddy, as well as so sexy and she had little hearts in her eyes as she nodded. "S-Sorry mommy. Thank you." ash said and she gave him a bare nod, focusing on the love of her life. "yeah whatever sweetie. sit down already." she said. Ash did as she said and she took her seat next to Gary at the table, close enough she could play footsies with him and lean into him, while they could look over their shoulders as needed to check on the baby. "Uh..Mom?" Ash called and she frowned, then looked over. "Yes ash?" "I uh..I need to cut my steak but you didn't give me a knife..you want me to just g-" "Oh! silly me!" Delia said. "Gary, would you mind cutting up little ashy's din din for him?" she asked. "Of course not." he said and reached over. "Come on lil guy, give DADDY your plate so he can make sure this is all nice and small for you." Ash Pouted, but Delia gave her son a glare and he meekly handed his plate up to Gary. "Good boy! that's mommy's little loser~" Delia coo'ed and laughed. "you're really loving this huh? getting it off your chest just what you really think of him?" Gary asked as he started to cut up ash's veggies and meat nice and small."Have you had a few glasses of the wine already?" "W-well I er..yes. I hope that's ok." Delia said, suddenly worried about making Gary mad. "Not at all. I know you needed a little help to be honest with widdle ashy here." he said and paused to kiss her cheek. "Go ahead and have anther glass." he added. Delia gushed and nuzzled gary's arm and he smiled at her making her feel all warm inside. "you really are so good to me. and such a welcomed escape from pampers mcgee over there." she giggled and refilled her glass. "M-Mommy.." Ash whined. "Oh sweetie, i know it's tough to hear, but you really always were just a big baby. I only let you go out on your big silly pokemon adventure to try and air out your room and to save on diapers for awhile." She said and then blew a raspberry at the poor crushed boy, then took a drink. "You know Delia, I think little ashy has a big enough ASS as is, we don't want it to get too much bigger.. Maybe I should take his meat and just try him on some veggies." Gary suggested. "whatever you think is best. This is Ashy's favorite din din but I don't think cutting back on the meat, or the after dinner deserts for awhile would hurt him." she giggled. ash whimpered but took back his plate of veggies and didn't speak up as Gary took his fork from him. "Little boys eat with their hands..and thats what you are ash. a little boy." Gary said. Looking over and seeing ash just pouting and using his hands Delia laughed out loud. "God, your SUCH a loser!" she squealed and then moaned as Gary slid a hand over, between her legs even as he started to eat.

God, this horny bitch was too easy and even Gary was shocked at how quickly she was turning on ash..not that he minded. the meat was excellently cooked and knowing it was ash's favorite added that extra bit of flavor to it as he munched down, practically fingering the slut who was gasping and moaning while Ash tried to stare a hole in the floor. "Oh, are you trying to pretend your not here? Like that time I ruined Misty for you?" He asked ash and then pulled his hand away from Delia's soaked crotch, wiping it on the table cloth her grandmother had left her, and knowing ash had gotten in trouble for just spilling juice on it before, let alone love juice. and the stupid slut clearly didn't mind. "Did ash tell you about that?" Gary asked as Ash clearly lost his appetite and pushed his plate away. "Oh, he called me bawling and sobbing about it, but I was more shocked he and Misty were dating. I always pegged him as being Brock's little butt slut." Delia said then covered her mouth. "Heh, Nah, Little ashy here would of had to cross-dress to get Brock's dick. Or did you ashy?" Gary asked. ash glared but didn't answer so Gary cleared his throat and deepened his voice. "I asked you a question little man. Did you dress like a girl so you could finally lose your virginity? because I wouldn't count you humping Misty's gaping and ruined cunt after i fucked her as sex since she fell asleep." Delia laughed out loud at that and helped herself to more wine as the tears started to roll down ash's Cheek. "I..I never did anything with any boys." Ash said finally. "Or any girls." Gary added, finishing off his glass. "I..No. Misty was gonna be my first and..and..you ruined it." "well you know..I like to think of it as trying to help a friend out. you were gonna fail either way and at least this way your little girlfriend had fun. and then you got to go and put on your diapies after your failed attempt at sex and suck your thumb and go to sleep." Gary said. "Really ashy, it sounds like Gary saved you from making Misty mad at you. you should thank him." Delia scolded. they both waited and finally ash croaked out a small but still aubile 'thank you'. "Awww, you're welcome fat ass." Gary said and leaned back and ruffled ash's hair.

Dinner ran just a little bit longer but thankfully aside from the odd insult thrown ash's way they ignored him. he nibbled on a few carrots and tried to drink from the baby bottle while they were distracted but of course they noticed, and commented on just how natural ashy looked in diapers drinking from one. After supper the happy couple and little ashy started to head for the living room when Gary got a evil look in his eye. "You know, while I know little ashy here was looking forward to movie night, I'm kinda in the mood. you wanna say fuck it and just go upstairs?" he asked mom. "Oh god yes! But what about ash?" she asked, practically humping the younger man's leg. it made ash's tummy flip flop to see his mom degrading herself like this but he just took anther drink from his baby bottle instead. "well I would say we could let him watch his little baby show, but I dunno how awake we'll be after. and it's almost 8 anyways. we should just put the baby to bed." "your right. I have been meaning to lower his bed time anyways." Mom said and ash whined. "But I'm not even sleepy!" he huffed and they BOTH started to laugh at that. ash himself realized just how..utterly BABYISH that sounded after and popped his ba-ba back in his mouth. His next humiliation came as they got to the stairs and Gary took one look at them, then turned back to look at ash and shook his head. "I don't think fat ass should try and go up these himself, he'll fall and hurt himself and we'll have to spend the night at the ER." he said. "Do you want me to make a bed for him down here then?" Mom asked. "Nah, I got it." Ash figured out what Gary meant by got it as he effortlessly scooped ash up in his arms, and held him much like his mom had before. his baby bottle in one hand and the other out of instinct holding onto Gary, ash buried his face in Gary's shoulder to hide the fresh tears starting up and his new mommy and daddy started to laugh and coo.

Gary was pleasantly surprised how quick any and all fight was draining out of ash as he carried the boy to his soon to be nursery. he made a little show of it, mostly for his and Delia's amusement citing that Ash's fat ass was heavier then the rest of him. Setting ash down in his bed, he took in how childish ash's room looked already, but he had plans for it if he didn't get the gym leader job, and if he did he'd have a nursery made to size for little ashy in Virden. he patted and squeezed the back and front of ash's diapers and noted the look of pride on the big babies face that he was still dry, and decided to shut that shit down now. "Bad boy ash!" he scolded and rolled the fat ass onto his tummy, swatting said fat diapered butt. "You're just a big baby now and babies use their diapers!" with the thick diaper on the swats couldn't of possibly hurt but ash started to flail around and cry out again. "ah! Stop! No! I don't wanna!" "Little man, did I say if it so pleases prince ash, or did I tell you to use your diapers?" Gary scolded, slipping a swat onto ash's slightly chubby thigh. "ah! No! Stawp! I sowwy! I's be a good baby! STAWP!" Delia was laughing hard but Gary stopped right away and rubbed the small of ash's back as the baby tried to get his tears to stop. "there there..thats what i wanna hear.. now you be a good big baby..and in the morning your mommy better find a wet AND poopie diaper to change. or your going over my lap without the diaper on." Gary said. In between the panicked sobs Delia and Gary both heard what they wanted, the hiss of a scared little loser soaking his diapers. "Good fat ass."

Ash got out what had to be the last of his tears as he laid in bed. Mommy and new daddy where in the next room and he could HEAR what they were doing..and feel it as the head board kept banging against the wall. 'I..I just..wet myself like a helpless baby..and..why can't I stand up to them? I could go and get my pokemon back from professor oak and just head out..I'm sure i could find work somewhere..' he thought. the thick diaper had sucked in his tinkle without much fuss so at least he wasn't as cold and clammy as with the diapers he normally got, so he had to admit mommy had made a smart choice with these. And if she'd been right about the diapers..what if she was right about him being a loser? really it wasn't like they MADE him keep the diaper on, or forced him to stay there. it had just never occurred to him to take the diaper off or to get up and leave. Of course NOW he knew he would of been spanked silly but.. he hadn't known that then. 'M-Maybe their right..and i really AM a big baby..' Ash thought. he found himself wishing he'd brought his paci up to bed with him, and toyed with getting up and going down stairs for it but recalled how daddy had said the stairs were too dangerous for him, so instead he slipped his thumb into his mouth. It wasn't as soothing as his paci but it got the job done and Ash thought about a way to test if he really was just a big dumb baby or not, racking his brain. 'wait..daddy said I needa poopie..if I can go to sleep, without crying, after pooping my diaper like a baby does..then..yeah, that would prove it. and if i can't and cry for a diaper change, then I'm a big boy!' following his well, rather flawed logic Ash worked to get up on his knees on his bed, and started to grunt and stain, pushing himself and shaking his bed a little.

Gary was pounding away on Delia who was barley with it anymore, a combination of the wine and getting that dick had her eyes rolling in her head even as she barked like a bitch in heat. the thought of him keeping that loser up all night listening this this was fueling him even as one little thing stuck in Gary's mind and was keeping him from having his first orgasm. Carrying ash up the steps, and the big baby snuggling into him, it had felt..right. the baby stuff was just meant to torment ash and he'd never really had any intention of being the one to change his diapers, but Jesus. just carrying him like that, he'd only switched back to stern dom as fast as he had to save face in front of Delia. after all, if he'd been goading her to be mean to Ash it wouldn't make sense for him to be the nice one now would it? 'It's not like i like him. I set him up to fail!' Gary thought. as groans and other noises came from the other side of the wall, along with some thumps from ash's head board hitting the wall, Gary almost sighed in relief, having a reason to be mean to the loser who was clearly humping his diapers. he banged on the wall and almost snarled. "Stop making all that noise and go to sleep over there!" he called though the wall. the reply he got back though.. "S-Sowwy Daddy! trying ta make poopie like ou told me ta!" as ash finished saying it, Gary found himself spurting harder and more then he'd ever done before in his life, realizing that he'd totally broken ash in just a few hours and his little diaper boy was totally loading up his diapers. Gary had honestly expected to have to spank ash in the morning and he was now calling him daddy and- anther load shot out and Gary was crying out in pleasure, and crying out something else. "Good boy ashy! make poopies for daddy! show daddy you love him!" Normally Gary could of kept going, and would of but he found himself spent after the second load and flopped to the side of delia, who had already conked out herself. as he lay there panting and trying to catch his breath he could almost swear he was getting a whiff of the load little ash was making, and as his spent dick struggled to come to life again he instead fell asleep, his last thought before conking out however was a confession to himself. 'How the fuck did i go from wanting to dominate his fat ass to falling for it?!'

As the last of the poopie slid out and filled his diaper, ash made a face at the smell, but the warm mess felt good over his bum and daddy had praised him. with a big smile on his face ash snuggled down into his bed, and tugged a pikachu stuffie into one of his arms and popped his thumb back into his mouth. he had his answer he knew as he drifted off to sleep. he was a big baby

the end

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eusjason · 4 years

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ʷᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵒᶠ 𝓼𝓸𝓻𝓻𝓸𝔀, & 𝕛𝕠𝕪 ʷᵃˢ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢᵘʳᵉ ;

› 𝟎𝟎𝟏: 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘰𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵?

in the northern reaches of canada, playful outdoor hockey on frozen lakes known as shinny is as sure of a past time as huddling up by the fireplace. never one to be bothered by the cold, jason spent most of the young childhood skating out on some lake or another, usually with friends or teammates until they eventually called it quits when the sun started to sink lower and the even colder night chill began to roll in. he should’ve left with them, really, his mother was going to worry as she always did — though never as much as the other mothers, not out of any less concern, but perhaps she knew that water would not harm jason. all the times he’d gotten picked out of the frigid saguenay fjord and didn’t get so much as a cold were probably a dead giveaway.

so he’s alone when it happens, probably for the best : it means the mist doesn’t have to work overtime to alter the memories of his friends. winter is just starting to break into the warmer season of spring, the worst time of year if you ask jason. it just signals the end of outdoor hockey, soon to be moved to the confines of a temperature controlled rink. he’s stubborn, intent on getting every hour out of the frozen ice on the lake that he possibly can, even if that means avoiding certain spots of the lake. but he must miscalculate because he hears the telltale cracking of ice beneath his skates — and not the comforting deep cracking sounds that accompanies a freezing lake. this is the bad kind of cracking, the one that proceeds plunging into freezing water and possibly dying of hypothermia. tyler’s mother had showed them all a video of someone falling through thin ice when they were all old enough to want to skate on the lake, probably to shake fear and caution into them ( it’s worked, for the most part ). for the first time out on the lake, jason is terrified.

it’s probably this terror that unlocks what will become his specialty in the years to come. he never plunges into the icy depths of the lake ( even though if he had, he would’ve remained dry and unaffected ), because he freezes the whole thing solid. he then passes out because of it, the volume of water he just changed something he won’t have the stamina to repeat for quite a while. his mother and the father of one of his friends find him on the lake much later, burning up from fever, his eleven year old body trying to cope with the excess energy it just absorbed.

it’s a mystery what happened exactly, to everyone but his mother had known eventually the godly part of his blood would demand to manifest as more than an ease on ice or the way beluga whales always seemed to come to whatever boat he was on. it’s on a boat in the middle of the saint lawrence that she tells him the truth. jason takes it pretty well, for someone just told his father is the lord of the sea. if anything, he knows it to be true the moment his mother tells him, the final piece of a puzzle falling into place.

not long after his twelfth birthday that summer, instead of staying in saguenay, he’s shipped off to camp voreios even further north in canada.

› 𝟎𝟎𝟐: 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦’𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘰𝘥?

leila goldhirsch never had any doubts of the child she carried for nine months and then loved from the moment he was born. she always knew it was a bit of inevitability that his godly side would present itself, much like the ocean never deigns to be ignored. there was always more to that man she had a brief but momentous relationship with, more than just the kinda captain of the ship she used for that whole summer studying beluga whales in the saint lawrence. she didn’t know whether or not to believe him when he said he was the lord of the sea, but like the ocean, the truth is undeniable. and so she did her best to raise jason normally, worried like any good mother though his father had promised to keep him safe.

( he still doesn’t know this — but one of those fisherman who picked him out of the fjord had been him ).

— and she worried after the attack, wanting to protect her son but having no way of protecting him from the monsters that were inside his head. she’ll always worry, probably, though she’s happy that he seems to have found himself again at eonia.

jason’s stepfather is a whole other story, just for the simple fact that he doesn’t know about poseidon, still believing jason’s biological father was simply the boat captain of a ship many, many years ago. jason and his mother never figured out a way to too tell him and well... it feels a little too late for that now.

› 𝟎𝟎𝟑: 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵?

he’s just arrived at camp voreios, age twelve and fitting in even more easily than most despite his young age — sparking the rumor that he must be a son of hermes. he’d been aware of his godly parentage even for a few months now in an unofficial sense, though still officially “unclaimed,” not that it made a whole lot of difference at camp voreios who roomed attendees by age instead of godly parentage. he remains quiet to the fact though, appreciating the suspense of it all even at a young age.

it’s a few days later after the first campwide game that things get official. jason’s fresh off scoring a game-winning goal when the glowing sea-green trident appears over his head effectively hushing the previously rowdy arena.

camp voreios had never had a child of poseidon before : he was the first.

› 𝟎𝟎𝟒: 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘱?

camp voreios, the northern camp ( grammatically i think it should actually be voreios camp but to stick with pjo naming conventions... ), sits in some of the most remote reaches of quebec, far by pretty much all terms, and it is here that some of the most elite demigods are trained. obscured from mortal eyes as a longterm and extremely competitive program for only the most elite youth hockey players, there’s a bit of truth to that. most who attend that camp are between the ages of twelve and eighteen, the graduates commonly accepted into colleges with impressive hockey programs and a very select few like jason into the canadian hockey league. though almost all in attendance could easily fit in talentwise in the chl, most opt to not go through the additional testing and training into order to determine if they’re fit to go the professional route. their “recruitment” is a smattering of satyr scouts and coaches who scour youth hockey programs for demigods.

the camp sits on the edge of a lake, something jason found incredibly satisfying and it was on this lake this he truly honed his abilities of phase manipulation of water and water sensitivity. he did dabble in the other aspects of hydrokinesis ( specifically, the manipulation of actual water ) at least enough to be respectable at it, but he found it more dull and less useful, preferring to explore control of water in its ice state. you’d never see him try to create a tsunami wave or something.

a hockey centric demigod camp was as exciting as it came. though they would play against mortal teams to learn to exercise control over their abilities in the heat of a game ( and as a result, learn to control themselves in high emotion situations ), there were plenty of demigod hockey games that were almost a free for all. the only thing they didn’t allow jason to do was manipulate the actual ice of the rink, citing that was a bit of an unfair advantage even for them. camp voreios was also the home to the art of swordplay on ice, more for pure fun than any true necessity — though it was argued that the heightened speed of a fight on ice was good for developing reflexes and training the mind to analyze an opponent more quickly. there’s probably some truth to that.

camp voreios, unlike many demigod camps, was not a summer camp. instead it ran around the hockey season, meaning it took students for the duration of the school year and released them to do as they pleased in the summer though many stayed the duration. occupants are schooled with a mixture of online and at local schools. jason was in attendance at camp voreios from ages twelve to sixteen almost year round, save for the month of july when he returned home to saguenay. the intent of camp voreios was to rigorously train their attendees for the real world — practically the epitome of tough love.

at sixteen, jason knew he wanted to try to peruse hockey professionally if he could, the fourth of camp voreios attendees who expressed this intention. the camp only allowed the most elite on the ice and more apt at protecting themselves to enter professional leagues where there was a much higher profile and higher risk. jason passed their aptitude tests and so at sixteen, he was drafted to the rouyn-noranda huskies and left camp voreios, though he’d return in the summer occasionally as well as encounter and maybe help a little bit some on their yearly scavenger hunt.

› 𝟎𝟎𝟓: 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴?

camp voreios didn’t get sent on an awful lot of quests compared to much bigger camps, though the directors of the camp often sent campers out on their own in an unofficial capacity in order to gain “real world experience” tussling with real monsters and getting a taste of real danger — call it that tough love. most common was a massive scavenger hunt that took up nearly three weeks every spring after hockey season ended where the entire camp was split into groups of two or three and sent out across north america to retrieve increasingly rare items.

however, jason was sent on one official god-sanctioned quest at the tender age of thirteen. he’d been at camp for about a year and a half at that point and participated in one scavenger hunt and thus deemed ready. gotta start them young, right ?? besides, it was a quest for one of the missing prongs on the trident of poseidon, and as the only child of poseidon at camp voreios who else was supposed to go ?? he was dispatched with a daughter of aphrodite ( 15 ) and son of hermes ( 16 ), though jason’s leadership skills soon became evident even as young as he was. the quest took them two weeks to complete, and took them everywhere from the stiffling grand canyon ( not jason’s favorite place ) to niagara falls ( marginally better ), culminating with them on the coast of nova scotia, the first time jason had seen the real ocean. he’ll claim he jumped, witnesses claim he fell, but either way, he ended up deep in the atlantic ocean where he finally met his godly father for the first time.

› 𝟎𝟎𝟔: 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵?

jason met poseidon when he was thirteen and he was nothing like he expected. he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but much like the sea he supposes it depends. poseidon has never felt different than the sea on a calm day. he’d say his relationship with him is more the positive side of neutral then negative, despite the fact they’ve only spoken face to face a handful of times.

jason never was someone who needed words to know he was cared for and he recognizes the ways poseidon cares for him as his son in ways other than words : in the safe passages he grants him every fall and spring as he sails over the atlantic, the way he feels at home in the ocean, and the way he’d been soothed and in some ways healed by the ocean after the attack. he just takes their contact it as it is, seeing no reason to wish for things to be different than they are.

› 𝟎𝟎𝟕: 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦’𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘰𝘥?

the day jason learned about his water sensitivity was one of the best in his life. though it’s hardly as flashy as his hydrokinesis, the additional perspective is one his cherishes quite closely. there’s something to be said for feeling like you connect to the world, even in the oddest of ways. he can’t deny he loves freezing water though — there’s nothing like skating under and open sky and with a bit of work, his hydrokinesis ability made that possible.

there is, of course, his prowess on the ice, though he’s not sure if he wants to contribute that to being a demigod. he’d like to believe that even without godly blood in his veins that he still would’ve been good enough to be drafted into the chl.

› 𝟎𝟎𝟖: 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦’𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘰𝘥?

power comes with a cost, and sometimes jason thinks that price is too high. as much as he knows he can’t wring the godly blood out of him, there are days he wishes he could is only to save what he’d been building in rouyn-noranda. evan had been young, beautiful, talented, and very much mortal. there’s no reason he or any of the others of his team should have had to die because a pack of monsters were intent on slaying the son of poseidon. it’s an endless battle in jason’s head between what he knows to be true and the endless guilt he still feels constricted around his heart. because what’s the point of having power if it still wasn’t enough to protect the people he cared about ??

› 𝟎𝟎𝟗: 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦’𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘺?

it’s rare to see jason without osisko, his celestial bronze sword that also takes the convenient forms of a hockey stick or a bronze bracelet on his left wrist. it was a gift to him when he was drafted into the chl at sixteen ( visuals and more detailed information on osisko HERE ). it is without a doubt his main weapon, and the one he’s most trained at, though if he had to he could fight with a trident pretty well ( thanks dad ). given osisko’s ability to return to him even if lost in battle, he rarely has to default to other weapons, though at even closer hand-to-hand combat with daggers or knives, he’s proficient as well since the concept is quite similar. where he severely lacks is in any long range weapons like archery or spears — sadly his accuracy with a puck does not seem to translate to arrows or anything of the type.

jason isn’t absolute top tier elite at swordplay, though he holds his own quite respectively and probably comes in the top ten percent, aided in part by his sheer athleticism due to the strong, active life he’s lived since he was quite young, training both to be a demigod and a good hockey player. factor in his hydrokinesis when available, and you can probably get him to the top five percent. he can get quite competitive in matchups, which also informs his ability to hold his own out of sheer will. there’s also something to be said that he attended a demigod camp practically year round for four years, allowing him a much longer length of training in his formative years than just the typical three month summer camp.

he has extremely good endurance ( endurance and like... endurance 😉, y’know ?? alsdkfjlsks ) and often fights smarter, not harder, using his opponent’s weaknesses and the environment to his advantage. as a defenseman, he’s quick to analyze offensive players of the fastest paced sport in the world to hinder their plan by the time they get to the blueline — this ability transfers beautifully to battle proficiency and fights. he has to work quite hard to get as good as he has, the observing part he was always quite good at, it was getting his fighting ability up to the level where he could actually do something to hinder the offense he knew was coming. he obviously most easily gains the upper hand when on the beach, a boat, or if someone foolishly decides they do want to face him in one of camp voreios’ created past times : swordplay on ice.

#;; headcanon #euquestionnaire #( ayyy folks #we finally made it alsdkfj )#( there are probably typos in this bc i can't be bothered to read it over )#( questionnaire is such a weird word #why does it have two n's? )

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schweeeppess · 5 years

Note

mm what about nurse me?

I have a ton of these prompts to get through so thanks a ton to @acrobatgrayson for writing this one and especially writing it so quickly! please let me know if I can ever return the favor!

Damian didn’t say anything.

He knew he should’ve. He knew the rules were different here. Injured soldiers were protected and cared for, not looked down upon and left to fend for themselves. Mistakes on the field were not punished, but rather analyzed for future improvement. Father said that this was right, and the League’s methods had been cruel; in all likelihood that was true, but there were still days where Damian’s mind whispered to him that there simply weren’t enough of them here to be so expendable.

And he said nothing. A hot wave of pain went through Damian as he spun on his feet, dancing away from his opponents to access the situation. He said nothing because – well, it was Drake with him, and he already looked like he had his hands full. Damian would not embarrass himself by whining to Drake of all people, about a stab wound that neither of them could do anything about at the moment. He just had to avoid putting pressure on his leg, and take out his remaining enemies before he lost too much blood. He could do that.

They charged at him with angry shouts, and Damian ducked and swung forward. Everyone knew about Robin, but they were always angry, angry and confused that a ‘little kid’ could be so difficult to beat. Their superior height and weight and numbers meant nothing – Damian was in a whole other league. He knew it, and so did they, and their frustration made them sloppy. This would be an easy win. If only he wasn’t bleeding so much.

Damian’s leg was soaked in blood, going all the way down to and inside his boot. It was a stupid, insignificant thing, but the feeling of blood pooling inside his shoe, squishing with his every move, made that experience all that much more miserable. He felt lightheaded, but heavy; despite his best efforts his movements were becoming sluggish, lethargic. It was like watching himself in slow motion, like those dreams where you’re running and you’re so torturously slow but there’s nothing you can do to go faster—

Maybe he was dreaming. Everything felt odd and surreal, and Damian was so very tired. Still, he pushed forward, ignoring pain and exhaustion and his own doubt, until his feet gave way under him and the world started to fade. The last thing he heard was Tim’s voice, like it was coming through far away or through water, rising in panic as he screamed, “Robin!”

As soon as he came to, Damian knew that he was in the cave. He recognized the feeling of a stretcher under him, he recognized the sounds of the computer whirring in the background and the occasional flapping wings of a bat. It was familiar and comforting, so he gave himself a moment to gather himself before he opened his eyes and sat up.

There had been a fight. He’d gotten injured, stabbed in the leg. It was all patched up now, and he relished the feeling of no longer having dried blood sticking to him. But mostly…he was mortified, shame rushing through him at the realization he’d passed out and had to be rescued. And by Drake, nonetheless, who was sitting in a chair next to him, head bent forward and eyes shut.

Damian thought he was sleeping, but as soon as he rose to a sitting position Drake’s head shot up in a jerky movement. He looked pale and exhausted, eyes bloodshot. Almost like he’d been crying, but why would he be? A complicated expression crossed his face – he made to smile, but then it turned into a grimace and he looked away quickly. When he turned back to Damian his face was blank, all emotion gone like a fleeting shadow.

It was tempting to mock him for his appearance, if only to relieve some of his own discomfort. Because Drake could very easily use what had happened against him, but not if Damian went on the offensive.

Instead what came out was, “Where is father?”

“Upstairs, cancelling all his meetings for tomorrow,” Drake said wryly. “Alfred gave the rest of us jobs to do so we wouldn’t smother you.”

“You’re here,” Damian noted.

A small, childish part of him wished that father would have been by his side when he woke up instead. The same part felt a smug satisfaction that father was putting aside serious business for him – but the rest of him hated that father thought he needed to be coddled like that.

“Yes, well…” Drake cut himself off and looked away again. “I’m sorry, Damian.”

It was not often that Damian was caught off guard, but that did it. Squinting suspiciously at Drake, he asked, “Why? What did you do?”

Drake huffed a laugh. “I mean for the whole…I shouldn’t have let you get hurt, or I should have noticed earlier. I just…why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was handling it,” Damian muttered, but all his reasons seemed insufficient now. Surely father would be upset with him for the careless risk he’d taken.

“Yeah, I thought you might say that,” Drake acknowledged with a dry smile. He shook his head. “And since I know what you’re like, why wasn’t I paying more attention? I should have known.”

That wasn’t true, but perhaps Damian ought to let Drake take responsibility, if it believed it had been his mistake so much. Damian knew this wasn’t the League, that mistakes didn’t mean the same thing here, but he still would prefer not to anger his father. Better Drake than him.

Except that it felt wrong. The fault had been his, and Drake had…protected him, and brought him back to safety, humiliating as that was.

“You didn’t know because I didn’t want you to,” he said curtly. “Don’t think so hard about it.”

“I have to,” Drake argued with surprising ferocity. “I have to, because if I don’t, one of us could die next time. You think I don’t get it? Wanting to prove yourself? Not wanting to rely on anyone, and me least of all? Believe me, I do.”

“It wasn’t about you.”

“Sure, but can you tell me that you would have done the same thing if Nightwing was with you instead?” Damian had no response to that. Drake sighed. “No. All I’m saying is that we need to find a way to work together. Back here, you can hate me all you want, but out there, we need to do better.”

Damian scoffed. He could demand to know if Drake would have done anything differently, had their positions been reversed. He could ask what it mattered to Drake whether he lived or died, or insisted that he could take care of himself. But none of these things came out.

Instead he murmured, “I don’t hate you.”

That gave Drake pause, at least. His eyebrows shot up, caught somewhere between surprise and not so subtle doubt.

“Uhh…thanks,” Drake said, awkward but earnest. “That should…help. But it’s still – you don’t trust me, I mean, you’d rather pass out from blood loss than look weak or ask me for help. And I…honestly think I would have done the same. But that’s not…we can’t go on like this. We’re on the same side here, right? We’re not enemies.”

They weren’t. Or competitors – they hadn’t been in a long time. Damian had messed up, and instead of kicking him while he was down Drake had brought him back and stayed by his side until he woke up. Damian didn’t know what to do with that.

“So what now?” he asked.

Tim shrugged. “Well, you’re gonna have to take it easy for today, so…do you mind if I sit with you? We could…talk. If you think about it, we really don’t know so much about each other.”

“I don’t mind,” Damian said, surprised to discover he’d meant it. “But I doubt that me learning your favorite color will help us bond.”

“It’s red,” Drake said, bringing his chair closer. “What’s yours?”

Damian didn’t think he had a favorite color, up until now, but as soon as the question was formed he found the answer was obvious. “Blue.”

Then Drake asked about his favorite food, and Damian rolled his eyes with a long-suffering sigh but played along, and soon enough Drake started commenting on his answers. They found themselves arguing over what the best spot in Gotham was, but it didn’t feel like a fight.

#ask #anon #anon ask #prompt #anon prompt #fluff prompt #fluff #hurt/comfort #not my writing #writing trade #thanks so much sophie #Damian Wayne #Tim Drake

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