#then tim said ha you’re funny if you think you’ll get a happy ending | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peeterparkr · 4 years

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perennial;tom holland|three.

chapter three: peony

↳ flower meaning:pink: romance yellow: jealousy.

chapter summary:

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: angsty a bit, but confort and friendship! mentions of alcohol and mention of sex

word count: 8.6k

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER:

masterlist & profiles two: (y/n): in which y/n now has to be on social media. two:(tom): in which Tom likes certain posts but dislikes some others.

previous chapter next chapter perennial masterlist.

perfidy ( series masterlist)

wanna be tagged?

Mistakes are made, often. That’s what makes us human. Sometimes a little bit too human. Our head and hearts lead us to places where we shouldn’t go. To where our hearts will most likely hurt.

There are people who think it’s easy, decisions and whereabouts but when you’re dealing with the heart, your own heart, it’s not nearly as simple. When your feelings and sanity are at stake is just simply incredibly complicated. Especially when it’s mixed with desire, loneliness, heartbreak and cheap tequila.

A combination of those often leads to disaster. But… it didn’t feel like one. Somehow the decision y/n and Tim had made under the influence not only of alcohol but of a lame attempt to flirt had led them to a place where their secrets had been hidden. To a place that was so sweet and so them. It was odd. How it didn’t feel like a mistake.

How incredibly different it was for y/n, and Tim.

As if they had owed it to each other. Tim knew a lot about y/n. Y/n knew a lot about Tim. But they barely knew anything about them, together. Because there was a spark, there was no denying it. How simple things were when they were together. It flowed. Like a song, one of those songs y/n liked to listen to. Maybe that’s why they were both always pulled back to each other. Because of how easy it flowed. How it never felt like they were doing something wrong, or how it always felt like both of them were only completing each other. They didn’t have to fake anything.

No, it probably wasn’t a disaster. Not yet, at least. But Timmy knew it was a mistake, at least he was getting his own heart at risk because y/n still loved Tom, and she hadn’t been secretive about it. But he’d been broken-hearted too. For a while, now. To live with whom possibly might be the love of your life after breaking up and knowing they love someone else is like a bad joke, not even funny enough to make someone laugh out of pity.

Yet, he woke up to her head against his chest, her hand delicately posing over his skin, legs intertwined. Just like they’ve woken up before. Like old times. And Timmy felt tranquility over his entire body.

The hardest part about breakups is that you never plan them. And you end up with that feeling, one last kiss, one last laugh until midnight, one last breakfast together. One last. But that desire should not be. Was this the last time?

Tim stared at the woman laying on top of him, breathing in slowly. She was so… peaceful, and he hadn’t seen her in such peace for a while. So nice.

Her room was so her, even if she’d changed a lot in the past few months. Tim always wondered how she managed to make her surrounding so… hers. With flowers hanging on her wall, some old posters and new polaroids. Always polaroids. But they were different, of places, of things. No more people on them. She had claimed she hadn’t brought anything from Tom, but Tim knew she was lying. He could see a lot of Tom in her. Even when she didn’t admit it.

He thought it was about Tom, honestly. How she had stopped drinking red wine, and liked rose instead now. How she avoided drinking tea in the morning, or how she had once grimaced when Tim had offered some street hot dogs. How she had once cried when Emma had mentioned something related to New York, and how she kept bringing yellow flowers home.

The way that she had stopped wearing red lipstick, that’s what Timmy had noticed first.

And how different she was from Emma. Emma was still in denial, Tim knew this. Emma still cried at night. But he couldn’t point it out. He knew Emma was still aching so much. And she was the kind to throw it all out and pretend it doesn’t exist. Quite different from y/n who had to live in her melancholy.

Y/N would be that sad smile.

But he knew Emma was the one kind to actually pretend everything was fine. She got angrier. And she’d yell more. And sing.

Way too different the two of them were. Y/N would drown in sad songs and Emma would drown in red wine and listen to upbeat songs. A very different approach.

Y/N would let herself cry and Emma would make herself laugh. Maybe that’s why they worked as friends.

Poor Tim had to deal with his own broken heart alone. Though, this helped him. Tim was the one to order his thoughts quietly, and with hobbies. Photography. Writing. Modelling. Painting. Reading. Even now he wanted to learn new things.

We all deal with heartbreaks in our own way.

But it’s difficult when you also have to help the reason of your own heartbreak to get out of one.

He wondered if she was still in love with Tom or only the memories of him. Sometimes we get confused with that. We often forget we have to be in love with the person, not the story.

But Tim knew he was in love with her, and her story. That’s the problem.

How even with her messed up makeup and her tangled hair he managed to be in love with her. How with the light coming from the sun was bathing her perfectly. A perfect morning, one which he hadn’t had in a while.

Of course, the fantasy had to end.

“Y/N, wake up, you idiot, we have to-what the fuck?” Emma yelled as she dropped her cup of coffee, waking y/n up immediately. “My eyes, no, what the fuck?!”

It was until then in which Tim maybe realized it had been a very big mistake. Y/N covered herself with her sheets as Tim only froze. None of them couldn’t say anything, what were they supposed to say? ‘It’s not that you think’. Because it was. ‘Whoopsies?’

“Woah—No, okay, what the, what the fuck—I’ll wait for you—what the fuck, outside—I—Fucking get dressed at least—“Emma closed the door, leaving the broken cup and coffee staining y/n’s floor. “What the fuck?” She kept cursing outside.

Y/N only blinked and then looked at him. He stared back and then…

They couldn’t help but laugh.

“Fuck,” y/n laughed. “She’s gonna kill us.”

“You think?” He chuckled.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, turning bright red. “I…I don’t even know.”

“In all fairness, she was the one who told us to have some random hookup,” Timmy said. “She never said it couldn’t be between us.”

“You’re an idiot,” she nudged him and laughed again

Tim smiled to himself and let out a snicker, he hadn’t heard her say those words in a while. “Yeah, you too.”

He hadn’t heard her laugh like that in a while. Made him happy.

“Um,” she gulped. “Do we have to… talk about it?”

“No,” Tim said quickly, she blinked. “Not right now,” he continued seeing the confusion in her face. “You have to get ready, you'll be meeting with the director, too! You have to go with her!”

“What the fuck,” they heard Emma yell again.

Tim laughed. “I’ll… take care of her, you go get ready and we’ll…” He gulped. “We will.. Yeah.”

“Yeah,” she was embarrassed as she reached for a shirt, only his was there. “I-uh.”

He blinked as he dressed up as y/n awkwardly waited for him to leave.

“Wait, um, Tim?” She looked up as he was by the door.

“Yeah?” He turned to her.

“Uh… thanks?” She said.

He laughed. “Thanks?”

“I don’t know what you’re supposed to say okay?” She chuckled.

“And thank you was your go-to?” Timmy chuckled. “You really went oh yeah, thanks for… satisfying my needs.”

She blushed. “I didn’t mean--Idiot.”

“No, I know,” he laughed. “Thank you, too.”

He left and then immediately had to face Emma, who ran over to him. “What the fuck?” she yelled… whispering if that was even possible.

“Go get ready you’re going with y/n to meet the director,” he rushed.

“What the fuck?” Emma asked again. “What the fuck?” She followed him.

“Emma, dear, go get ready, also need anything for your hangover? Since you dropped your coffee.”

“Tim, what the hell, what will happen now?”

“I… I don’t know, okay?” Tim said. “I’ll figure it out, alright?”

Emma frowned. “No, Tim, this isn’t… What does it mean?”

“Look, Emma, I don’t know, okay? It’s between me and y/n and-”

“No, but, it’s a big deal!”

“Yes but right now you should worry about the other things and y/n already has a lot in her mind with the movie and with Tom-”

“I fucking know that, but I don’t--Why would? You guys are so both fucking stupid.”

Emma couldn’t finish her sentence because Tim had already closed the door to his room. “Timothée! Don't fucking close.--”

“Go get ready, Em!”

“Timothée!” She yelled. “You’re not-”

“I’m busy!”

Emma didn’t even try anymore. She knew how Timmy acted, and she knew that there was no use in knocking on the door because Timmy was avoiding it. And he would avoid it because Timmy was an idiot.

Y/N was another idiot, and she’d deal with her. But she knew that Tim was definitely not going to be reasonable on this. Because Emma knew Timmy, and he was so stubborn. Especially when it came to y/n. Emma understood, however.

Because y/n was probably to Tim what Harry was to Emma. That inexplicable person who understands you and who completes you and compliments you. The person whom it doesn’t feel like it's a burden, who makes everything better, brighter and prettier. Easier. But that’s not really loving, is it? Love is complicated and stupid and it hurts and Emma didn’t even want to think about it. Because love is a game where we either win, but if it goes wrong we lose, and we lose a lot.

But just like Harry, Emma knew, y/n was probably blinded by someone else. And though initially, she thought y/n was the bad guy in the story, she soon realized it really wasn’t. And not Harry, or maybe, yes Harry had made some wrong choices. But we all do when it comes to deciding about love. That’s love, Emma guessed, making right decisions when it’s the wrong question, and making wrong decisions when it’s the right one. And though she was angry, she missed Harry, too much for her own convenience. It would only take her, she knew, one bright smile.

Emma was someone who understood y/n, because she knew y/n probably would also fall down to her knees if Tom even dared to show up. Because maybe they were both too angry but they were both too in love with them. Stubborn things the hearts are, restless and wandering, stupid love.

Emma knew it, she really had misjudged y/n. Maybe blinded by jealousy and too insecure of herself. Just like she had seen her, only days before, doubting every single thing. And who can really judge someone who is in love? And who can really judge someone who was hurt?

Besides, Tom and Harry were to blame. Not them.

Well, maybe y/n in her own situation. But really, what is there to even understand about Tom and y/n.

So, no, even if Tim was Emma’s everything, Y/N wasn’t to blame in the situation. Timmy wasn’t either.

Emma saw y/n rush through the apartment, from the bathroom to her room, from the room to her kitchen. Wearing a very perfect yellow dress, as she rushed again and again, leaving a stain of her perfume everywhere she was going. Emma decided to get ready too. Ignore the elephant in the room just for a bit.

Y/N didn’t even bother to clean the broken coffee cup in her room as she was pouring some coffee for her.

And then Timmy had walked into the kitchen. And Emma only wanted to see the tension. They were blushing as they bumped into each other, both struggling to get through the other side as they kept bumping, both moving to the same side not letting each other leave.

“Oh, uh, hi,” y/n said.

“Hi,” Timmy grinned.

Emma rolled her eyes. She wanted to puke. So dumb.

“Um, I have to--yeah,” y/n gulped as she tried to walk past him but bumped again. They chuckled.

Emma grimaced. Though this was adorable, she knew they were both going to fuck it up again. They already had, whatsoever.

Tim chuckled as he turned her around so they’d go to their directions. “Yeah, uh, yeah, I... you look… stunning, you’ll do amazing,” he said. Y/N smiled, still blushing.

“Y/N, we have to go,” Emma pushed, knowing this would go extremely wrong.

Y/N shook her head to get out of the trance. “Right, yeah, yeah, thanks.”

And y/n kissed Tim’s cheek, before rushing out with Emma, leaving him dumbfounded.

Emma and her would take the car, and Emma knew it would be the perfect time to question y/n.

Y/N was nervous. Emma could see. With her fingers constantly drumming against the wheel, and her cracking her fingers. LA’s traffic, Emma found it completely soothing. She’d usually have time to think to herself, and in this case, it gave her time to try and figure out where y/n wanted to go with her best friend.

“I have a terrible headache,” Emma pointed out. That was another issue, she’d drank too much the night before. They had stopped at some random Starbucks drive-thru to get breakfast.

“Yeah, being hungover is the worst,” y/n said as she sipped from her coffee.

“And bet waking up from a good shag isn’t,” Emma smirked.

y/n hit the brakes. “Emma!”

“Keep driving! What the fuck!” Emma yelled as they honked at them.

“Shit,” Y/N cursed and continued driving as some cars drove past them.

“Are we going to talk about it?” Emma laughed as they continued.

“No.”

“No?” Emma rolled her eyes. “Y/N you slept with Tim!”

“Yeah, I know, I know!”

“Of course you know, you were there, idiot,” Emma rolled her eyes. “And? How the fuck”

Y/N bit her lip as she started turning red, and stressed. “I dunno we were flirting all night and it sort of happened it was an-”

“An accident?” Emma interrupted. “No don’t fucking tell me it was an accident you just don’t open your legs and let a dick slip in.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and let out a laugh. “Emma!” She grinned. “No, I wasn’t going to say that.”

Emma chuckled as she took a bite of her breakfast sandwich “What were you going to say then?”

“I don’t know I think it led there,” y/n admitted. “And before we knew it we were making out on the couch and then I was taking off his clothes in my room.”

“Did it really lead there?”

“Well it must have if it happened, don’t you think?” Y/N sassed.

Emma laughed, rolling her eyes. “How was it?”

“Emma!”

“No, never mind, I don’t want to know how my best friend since diapers shags.”

Y/N blushed even more as she reached out to playfully hit her. “You’re an idiot!”

Emma grinned. They stayed quiet for a bit. Even if Emma, as a friend was kind of angry or disappointed or however one feels when both your best friends are complete idiots, she was quite amused by the entire situation.

“Do you have feelings for Tim?” Emma asked after a while of them singing along to the music playing on the radio.

Y/N bit her lip. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Look, it did lead there but... I didn't want it to happen initially because I-”

“You still love Tom,” Emma finished her sentence.

“Yes I do,” y/n sighed.

“Fuck, y/n,” she shook her head and clicked her tongue. It was a very complicated situation. However, she knew that y/n hadn’t done this in the slightest to hurt Tim. Emma was well aware y/n was probably very, very confused. Yes, she shouldn’t do this kind of stupid things, but Emma understood where it came from.

“Yes, but Tom’s not here so I can figure it out,” y/n pointed out. “Besides he’s probably making love to Cherry.”

“Making love,” Emma mocked. “I love you talk like you’re 13.”

y/n laughed. “Shut up.”

“Look, y/n, I’m your friend but Timmy.”

“Tim is first I know.”

“Yes but no, he’s an idiot because he clearly fucking has feelings for you and he’s the one playing with fire here,” Emma said. “I mean and you are too, but you are confused and stupid and-”

“Thanks,” Y/N chuckled. “I don’t know what to do, Emma.”

“Well, are you going to do anything about it?”

Y/N didn’t answer right away. She had to think through her response. “It's cause with Tim I feel… I don’t even feel like it was a mistake.” “

“No?”

“No, and you know usually everyone thinks sleeping with their ex is a mistake-”

“Which it is.”

“But that’s the thing with Tim, I just.. It’s”

“But y/n, do you love him?”

“I do…. But”

“But Tom,” Emma finished the sentence.

“Yes,” Y/N sighed. “And I don’t want to hurt Tim, he deserves someone better than me.”

Emma groaned. “He’s a man.”

“But he-”

“Look, y/n you’re both fucking grown-ups but I would advise both of you to stay out of that territory.”

“Yes.”

“And like, if you need it, get another man to satisfy those needs.”

“It wasn’t about needs,” y/n snapped condescendingly.

“Uh-huh sure,” Emma confined. “I’m pretty sure it was a cleanse from Tom.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Please, y/n.”

“I don’t know, alright?” she frowned. “I’m sad and stupid and I felt like shit, like actually on the floor everyone stepping on me, and then Tim made me feel like I wasn’t shit okay and apparently.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, no, I get it.”

“I’m a mess.”

“Yeah.” Emma laughed.

“Maybe with time,” y/n said to herself.

“What?”

“Maybe with time I could try it out again with Tim.”

“But don’t only do it because you’re hurt.”

“No, that’s why I need to wait, because I need to be sure I don’t have any feelings for Tom,” she admitted “And I do now”

“But you’ll always do.”

“It’s complicated,” she said. “You have to understand that I’ve loved him my whole life and… And I still feel guilty about it, and I still am hurt about this,” y/n continued. “And I am confused and I just…” she clicked her nose. “I don’t even think I want to let go yet, okay? That’s the problem, because I’m stupid enough to keep thinking I will have yet another stupid chance with him.”

“Yes, stupid.”

“Well, is it wrong that I believe in love?”

Emma watched her. “Is that love?”

“It was, or at least it felt like it,” y/n said.

“Feel like isn’t the same as being.”

“It is love,” y/n stated. “In a very stupid and unexplainable way and I don’t… Get why I love him, alright? Even after everything. But now I am angry because yes I fucked up and now he’s with Cherry and I can’t help but wonder what could’ve gone better and-”

“But y/n-”

“Look Emma, exactly after my heartbreak I found Timmy, okay?” Y/N took a deep breath as she was gripping to the wheel a bit more than expected. “What if Cherry is his Timmy? The one who’s perfect for him, the one who everyone sees and thinks oh shit, they were made for each other.”

“Oh, now I….”

“But I don’t know, alright?” Y/N was now clearly speaking to herself. “I just.. I am confused and I need to think about it and I need to let my heart sort it out, and be alright with it, and then before I know it, I’ll be back in London having to deal with his stupid ass again.”

“y/n.”

“It’s cause Emma, I can’t stop thinking about Tom, alright?” She sounded annoyed. “And maybe it should’ve all stayed like it was before, and I shouldn’t have written that stupid script and.”

“No, y/n, no, shut up,” Emma stopped her. “The script is the one thing you can rescue from this, alright?”

“I-”

“We are… Look we don’t even have to talk about this right now? Okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” y/n gulped.

“Let’s change the subject because we are meeting the director.”

“Directors,” y/n corrected.

“What?”

“Two, apparently, they were very interested in the project,” y/n sounded excited.

“Oh?”

“Which by the way!” She sounded excited. “Please, can you please check teen vogue apparently they know the bloody cast and I don’t-”

“The cast as in... the cast for dos-a-dos?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, shit, yeah, yeah, alright, okay so let me….” Emma took out her phone and quickly checked the article. “Fuck oh my goood.”

“Who is it?” Y/N yelled and tried to snatch the phone from Emma.

“No, wait, okay, are you ready?”

“Fuck yes, bloody tell me!”

Emma grinned. “So it’s Auli’i Cravalho as Valerie.”

“No way, oh my god, I love her what the hell,” y/n chirped as she then made a very high pitched noise.

“Shut up!” Emma laughed. “Yes oh my god, oooh, that hottie Gregg Sulkin is William.”

Y/N made another high pitched.

“Shit, I’m… okay, and Jordan Fisher is Teddy.”

“Oh my god, that’s perfect!”

“And… Fuck, Asa Butterfield as Robbie,” Emma said. She took a deep breath. Robbie… as in… Harry.

“Oh my god!” Y/N was too excited to notice her friend had turned a little bit sad.

“Yeah.”

But then she turned to her. “You know what?” Y/N grinned. “You’re right fuck all this men trouble let’s be excited about this!”

“Yes!” Emma chirped.

How magical it is to have a friend. And suddenly all of y/n’s troubles were forgotten. She needed to brighten up, this was her bloody dream for god’s sake. She needed to get her mind and forget every single man in her life right now, except probably the cast, or whoever she was working with. Were they female directors? Brothers? Sisters? Friends? Couple?

It was… exciting.

Though her mind did go back to her encounter with Tim. Where would she go with this? She was nervous enough about it. But she had to focus, right? She needed to sort some things out. Alessandra, her absolute pain in the ass, but the brilliant boss was nervous about it, too. But she seemed excited. Her new ‘y/n’, or assistant, Josh was absolutely the best. Nice guy. He had told y/n where she had to go, meeting room, time, everything.

“He’s cute,” Emma said as soon as he left.

Y/N looked up from the million papers she was given. “Who is?”

“Josh…?I think that was his name?” Emma said, blushing.

Y/N blinked. “Oh?” She chuckled. “You’re... Serious?”

Emma coughed and then sipped from the cup that barely even had any coffee now. “No, forget it.”

Y/N watched Josh from afar. He was handsome, but was he… Ah, yeah, the curls. It was Emma’s type. Completely.

“I can… introduce you to him?” Y/N offered mischievously. “He is cute alright, yes that could work.”

“No, shut up, no,” Emma laughed, embarrassed. “It was just a random comment.”

Y/N chuckled. “You know what? He’s coming back so--- Josh!” Y/N grinned as she tried to rush to her boss’ assistant. “Josh!”

“No, fuck, y/n, no shut up,” Emma rushed to him.

Josh was in fact, coming back, holding some pink flowers. “

“Josh!” Y/N grinned as Emma was jumping over y/n trying to stop her.

“Hi, uh, this came in,” He said before y/n could even say anything. Emma, embarrassed, backed up. “For you,” Josh said,handing the peonies to her and then checked his phone.

“What?” Y/N froze as she saw them.

From Tim. Of course.

Emma stared at them. “Wait… those are.”

“Uh, yeah, and okay, you know what? No time to… Give them to the directors if you want or whatever, but apparently they’re here, so let’s rush.”

“Uh--what?”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s--sorry if I sound bossy but Alessandra,” he said.

Y/N turned to look at Emma. Confusion washing her face, but excitement, too. But she was more confused. Mind going back to Tim. What the hell was she supposed to do? How did she even feel about that? Flowers. Flowers. Flowers.

“Y/N, look. Let’s, forget about this, now we need you to focus on this and-” Emma assured her.

“Right, right.”

Y/N was too nervous. This was it. Somehow this made it real. It would go quick, right? And she’d be able to talk to them and maybe they’d show her their vision and it would be amazing. Yes, this was exciting. She’d have time to think about whatever had happened with Tim later. And the flowers.

Because Tim had sent this, and this could mean him wishing her good luck, or this could be Tim… trying to tell her something. Probably that. And right now it was time to pretend that she hadn’t been crying over months already, and that she hadn’t just gone out the night before to try and forget an ex that probably was too busy with another girl.

Her mind couldn’t go there, it had to go back to professional y/n. Y/N the writer, that’s who she was that day. The y/n that had a dream.

And she saw Alessandra, talking to two men. And then… Time started going too fucking slow.

Too fucking slow.

Tom and Harry.

Harry and Tom.

Tom.

Harry.

Tom.

“Harry,” Emma said.

“Tom.”

There he was. In all his splendour. Bright smile on his face, hair pushed back, that pair of eyes that y/n had missed and hadn’t realized. Fuck, those eyes. It had never occurred to her how much she loved his eyes, so kind and bright. Eyes that made anyone feel like they were the only person in the world, a glance that either made her feel so special. Eyes that could easily have her undressed in less than she could even say his name. That smile, and him. Fuck it was him. With those stupid angel eyes. The reason why she had never ever stopped loving him, because even after everything he’d give her that glance.

Tom.

And it went so slow, her realization. He was there. As if she didn’t initially believe it. As if everything she’d said before was thrown away. And it came back to her, how much he had missed him. He was there, with that stupid smile of his, with that stupid white t-shirt and denim jacket. And that pair of eyes.

And just as y/n had paused and ran out of breath, he looked up and dug his own sight on hers. He took a deep breath as he was assimilating it as well. She saw him swallow as he then smiled at her.

Fuck, the world stopped. And if y/n hadn’t been confused from the night before she probably would’ve been stupid enough to run to his arms. If this was a rom com she would’ve jumped to kiss him, she would have forgotten everything and forgiven everything. But she was hurting.

But she was confused and she… was… angry.

Because she was angry and she was confused.

She was confused and she was angry.

“Tom,” she whispered again.

Running out of breath. She needed to run away. Emma had stopped walking too. The peonies had landed on the floor and y/n hadn’t even realized it.

Seemed like all Y/N and Emma did was to drop things when they were surprised.

But no, yes… Y/N was angry, yes and confused. She had to remember that. Tom, Tom was there. And the flowers Timmy had given her were on the floor. She was flustered and she was pretty sure she was sweating and she wanted to run away from him, but to his arms at the same time. She couldn’t walk, and Emma couldn’t either. Emma had only held y/n’s hand. She was sweating.

And Harry. Harry was there, too. And she was even more confused about him. She didn’t know where she was standing with him. Her best friend who had kissed her. But she was holding his ex-fiancée’s hand.

Harry. Tom.

And then the flowers. Timmy. She’d slept with Tim the night before. And she had just said how she still loved that idiot. How handsome he looked. And perfect. And god, she just wanted to kiss him.

No, no. She couldn’t…. Tom. Tom was there. His eyes brightened up. And y/n fucking knew it, it would only take him another smile for y/n to be back in his arms. But wasn’t she angry? Wasn’t he angry? She was.

Angry and confused.

Because hey, he was there and she needed to remind herself that she was hurt by him. But then why didn’t she feel hurt? Why the hell did she only want to run into his arms? She needed to remember how much she had cried over and how many times he’d hurt her and how these days she had decided that she wouldn’t try, though she wanted to. And Cherry, yes Cherry. She had to remember… Then why the hell was she feeling that way? Why were her knees getting weak and why was her heart rushing? As if her broken heart had disappeared.

No, and… What… What was he doing there? She saw his lips move, he was saying something.

And Emma was also not having it, she was shaking, sweating cold as she saw the love of her life standing right there, dumbfounded and nervous. Emma wanted to puke, and Emma wanted to faint and run away. But it was weird, because just like y/n, she wanted to forget everything and just run back to him and kiss him.

One smile, Emma knew, that’s all it would take for her to forget and forgive everything. What the hell were they doing there?

Harry was just watching Emma, his eyes were only on her. Fuck, y/n. Yes, Emma had to be reminded of that, too. Her ex-fiancé had kissed the woman beside her. Her ex-fiancé had loved the woman beside her. But then again the woman beside her was already drooling over Tom.

“Y/N!” Alessandra said, making Emma at least come back to her senses. “Hey, come here dear, please meet … Well, I bet you already know who he is, Tom and Harry Holland.”

“Y/N,” Tom whispered with a smile.

“They’re directing the movie.”

“They’re… what?” Was all y/n could ask as she dropped to the floor. Emma widened her eyes. Lucky bitch y/n was, she had passed out. She didn’t have to deal with this. Josh quickly kneeled beside y/n as he tried to wake her up. Emma herself wasn’t doing fine, she needed some air, too. She only leaned against the wall. She was also running out of air.

Tom, Harry and Alessandra rushed over to the floor to see y/n. Alessandra ordered Josh to go for water or whatever. Tom quickly kneeled on the floor as he helped y/n sat up, sitting her against the wall. He was quick to take her hand.

Harry didn’t even care it seemed, or.. Emma didn’t know what the hell was going on, she avoided his glance as he was struggling to see between them.

“Hi,” he whispered.

“Yeah, no,” Emma said as she then realized that probably her friend would faint again if she saw who was there again. “Uh, no, no, no,” she kneeled beside. “Not you,” she said to Tom. “This will make things worse.”

“Emma it’s okay, we need to loosen up her clothes,” Tom tried to wake her up.

“Wouldn’t you love that,” Emma commented. “No, Tom, please,” Emma said, as she fanned her hand to Y/N.

Y/N woke up, tears in her eyes as she breathed in a big puff of air.

“You should’ve stayed passed out, dumbass, you wouldn’t have to deal with this,” she whispered to her friend.

y/n confused, was heavily breathing.

“Y/N, Y/N,” Alessandra said. “Are you okay? Where the hell is Josh?”

“Y/N, you okay?” Tom asked as he reached for her hand. Emma flicked his hand away.

“Y/N are you okay?” Emma finally asked.

Y/N blinked and then turned to see her surrounding, yes the nightmare was still going.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I need to…” She stared at Tom. “No.”

Tom blinked.

Y/N tried to stand up.

“y/n no, stay there,” Tom warned.

“No,” she stood up, or tried to, Emma helped her up. “I need to… We need to, can I go to the restroom? Yes?” She was too nervous.

“Do you need-” Tom asked.

“No,” Y/N and Emma answered at the same time. Alessandra helped Emma to settle y/n who was still kind of spinning, Josh had arrived, too with a bottle of water.

“Water? That’s all you brought?” Alessandra asked. Josh had to back away.

Tom tried to follow after. Emma glared at him, and Harry stopped him. Luckily, the restroom was close enough.

Alessandra walked over. “Y/N, sweetie, everything okay?”

“No,” y/n laughed cynically.

“I’ll go get you something else, here’s the water and I’ll--- Can you take care of her, sweetie?” Alessandra asked Emma.

“Yeah.”

As soon as Alessandra had left, both friends were ready to have the mental breakdown they deserved to have. Y/N rested her hands against the sink staring at the mirror, as Emma was leaning against the wall ready to scream.

“What the fuck are they doing here?” Emma yelled, throwing her hands in the air. “What the fuck in the fuckery fuck, I need fuck fuck, fuck… FUCK!”

“I don’t know!” y/n cried as the tears were streaming down her face already.

“Why, why, why, why, why?” Emma yelled.

Honestly, both of them just kept asking questions to the air, cursing, y/n trying to clean up the tears as they both quickly paced.

Emma stopped Y/N. “What the fuck.”

“I don’t know!” She was so stressed.

Emma started shaking y/n. “Y/N I can’t handle this! That is Harry, Harry Holland as in my ex fiancée, my ex fiancé Harry Holland is outside. Harry!”

“I know! I know! Fuck I know!”

“And that’s Tom as in Tom the guy you were crying over yesterday!” Emma, needless to say, was freaking out.

“Emma I know!” Y/N yelled.

“What the fuck?”

“I don’t know!” Y/N said. “I don’t know, fuck, no, no, I.. No, why?”

“What the hell are they doing here?”

“Directing apparently, is this a nightmare? It must be a nightmare, yes, this is a nightmare!” Y/N stated.

And it felt like a fever nightmare, honestly. After two more minutes of freaking out, of them trying to figure out-- or complain about it for more, honestly what could they do? They were both sad, trying not to cry and who would take care of that situation? Alessandra walked in.

“Y/N dear, here,” Alessandra gave her a juice. “Did you have anything for breakfast, has this happened before? Why are you both crying?”

“Yeah, okay, no, I’m… why are they?” Y/N stated. Alessandra’s eyes widened. “Yeah, Tom, and Harry. Why?” Y/N couldn’t even complete a sentence.

“What?” Alessandra frowned.

“Yeah, he’s-We are not,” y/n gulped. “Why are they the directors? Why… can we change them?”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible…But may I ask why?”

“I just… We…” y/n couldn’t talk.

“She knows them and she’s not in good terms with them,” Emma explained.

“Why are they?” That’s all y/n could say, a half ass sentence that probably didn’t have much sense, but it did in a certain way. Why are Harry and Tom? Yes that made sense. That was the question she wanted to ask.

“Look, we will.. Want me to reschedule for tomorrow? I’m sure they’ll understand, you go home and rest, or I’ll-”

“Yes, I’m perfectly sure they’ll understand,” Emma hissed..

Before they could even know, they were heading out of the studio. They saw Tom and Harry try to approach them but Alessandra explained the situation, that y/n was sick. Of course they had understood, or pretended to that is.

Emma and y/n were not in a good place, of course. And y/n could definitely not go to the apartment because there she’d find Tim and that was something that she didn’t need to add to the situation. The three most important men in her love life were all now in the same city and y/n was definitely not doing alright. Life was playing a cheap trick on her and was laughing in her face. She couldn’t face Tom. Hell, no, less in that situation. She was angrier now, because how dare them search for her script?

They probably were only there to ruin it, especially Tom. Yes that was it. And why was she feeling that way? Didn’t she say hours before that she wanted him to come for her and try again? But not like this.

Not like this.

Emma was driving because y/n was still out of breath. Funny how it is. Emma was playing the music loudly and was actively ignoring everything, only focusing on the road. She drove them to the flower shop. A safe space for them both.

Aunt Eliza had received them both, not sure what the hell had happened but she had hugged her niece and then offered them to have whatever they wanted. Emma had poured something for herself in her cup, and y/n was only having a glass of water. Emma explained the situation to Eliza.

“I just can’t believe he’d do something like this you know? Fucking direct my script,” Y/N was complaining. “I just—can’t believe it! what the hell was he thinking? Didn’t he hate it? He said he hated it. Bloody hell, he’s an asshole he’s here to ruin it, isn’t it?”

“And Harry... “ Emma was going through a very different kind of emotion. Did Harry there for y/n? Or was he there for Emma?

“Fuck why are they doing this?” Y/N asked.

“Because men,” Eliza said, rolling her eyes.

“Yes men are trash!” Emma raised her mug.

“I know, I know but wait how are you so calm?” Y/N asked Emma.

Emma laughed. “I’m not!” She grinned. “I’m just… This situation is hilarious, innit? You see this cup?”

Y/N frowned. “Yeah.”

“This isn’t coffee,” Emma explained.

“What?” Eliza asked.

“Let’s say this is Irish coffee but it’s only irish whiskey and no coffee,” Emma explained.

“I need one of those,” Y/N admitted.

“I’ll.. Look, I’ll go buy you girls some wine and we can order something and… Can you take care of the place? It won’t be busy.”

“Yeah.”

Both girls stayed quiet as y/n had sipped from Emma’s mug, too.

“Harry looked really handsome didn’t he-” “Did you see Tom’s eyes?” They said at the unison. They were both lost. So, so lost. They probably hadn’t even heard each other.

“His hair looked pretty,” Emma said.

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. “When he smiled at me…”

“And then he was so shy and he got all nervous and…” Emma ran a hand through her hair.

“Shit like when he said my name I just—”

“And he smelled nice didn’t he?” Emma asked.

“Did he get a haircut?” Y/N asked.

“He looked so… nice,” Emma continued.

Y/N blinked listening to her. “Wait, no what the fuck?” Y/N asked. “We are angry!”

Emma snapped out of her trance and turned to her. “Huh? “

“Yes Emma what—why the fuck are we daydreaming here?” She asked. “These men are idiots!”

Emma nodded. “Right, right, no, what are we doing?”

“I can’t believe it,” y/n said. “I can’t believe I dared to even think this would be nice, for God’s sake, a week ago I was daydreaming of seeing him thinking it would be so nice and adorable and perfect and rom com moment, instead I got the throat thickening, heart pounding, heavy breathing, stupid love,” she complained.

“I felt butterflies,” Emma admitted. “And that’s why I’m apparently day drinking to drown those suckers!”

“Why are we even daydreaming Emma? We should, dunno, not this!”

“In my defense I was engaged to that man, I have the right.”

“I have the right to, I’ve been bloody in love with dumb Tom my whole life, I think I’ve got the right,” she complained.

Emma laughed. “We are clowns, y/n, that’s it, that’s the only explanation.”

“I was literally crying over him yesterday,—and I bloody fainted!” Y/N paced around the shop, as Emma laughed. “I mean, I do understand why I feel like this, but then again-”

“Shut up.”

“No, Emma, you don’t understand god, I know I am not supposed to feel this way but-”

“Shut up.”

“He’s got lovely eyes, didn’t he? Eyes which are daggers, nonetheless, and he was killing me with them-”

“Y/N shut up!”

“No,I need to-- fuck if I saw him smile once more at me and I’d be on my knees--What the hell are you doing here?” She asked, as the figure that once terrorized her was terrorizing her again.

Tom.

She didn’t faint this time, but she felt like she was going to. Tom was there, again with thAT perfect pair of eyes he dared to have.

“Hi,” he said. He looked nervous and he was probably shaking. But he had a smile on his face, a nervous shy smile.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She asked again.

“I uh--Cherry told me you were working here and her mother told her that Emma worked at some other place where I’m sure Harry is now—but guess I’ll tell him to… hi Emma,” Tom said nervously as he dedicated a glance to Emma.

“No,” answered Emma simply.

“Fine okay,” he cleared his throat. “So Cherry told me-”

“Cherry,” y/n repeated. And there it was, the sole reminder she needed to get back to her senses. She closed her eyes, and laughed.

“Yes, Cherry-”

“Well I’m—,yeah well you can leave now,” y/n said as she walked behind the counter.

“ just came here to talk y/n,” Tom said.

Y/N frowned as she started to clean whatever, moving mugs around, glasses, flowers. “Yeah can’t do that I’m working, see?”

“Then I’m here for coffee,” Tom said, approaching her leaning against the counter.

“The… machine is not working, you can leave,” she said.

“Then I’m here for flowers,” Tom answered smugly.

“We... are closed.”

“Then I guess I’m here to ask you out so we can talk,” Tom said again.

“No,” y/n answered with a smirk as she then walked out to fix some flowers.

“She wants you to leave, idiot,” Emma commented.

Tom gulped and followed after y/n. She was staring at the flowers, as if she tried to arrange the petals on them, moving them around, doing anything but looking at him.

“Y/N we need to talk.”

“We are doing that and I’m not liking it,” y/n snapped.

Tom chuckled. “Y/n come on, please?”

She shook her head. “No,” she kept pacing through the shop, it seemed like she was running out of places to run to. But the flowers surrounding them, which usually calmed her, somehow made her even sadder. Lots and lots of yellow flowers, only accentuated by the yellowness of her dress.

“Why not?” He followed after, he grabbed her hand.

She quickly pulled her hand away. “Because I’m angry at you.”

“Oh, are you now?” Tom said.

She finally turned to him. “Yes because why the hell are you directing it?”

Tom approached her, only inches from her. “They called me.”

Y/N frowned. “No, you called for it, you perfectly know that, didn’t you hate it?”

“Well, I might have called, I think it’s got a lot of potential,” Tom said.

“You’re just doing this to ruin it,” y/n snapped.

“I’m not actually,” he answered camly, staring at her. “I really like the story, an ode to the 80’s with a personal story.”

Somehow looking deeply into his eyes awakened something in y/n, so she looked away completely avoiding his gaze.

“Why are you really here, Tom?” She frowned.

“I came here to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk,” she said walking away.

“Clearly,” Tom rolled his eyes. “But come on y/n,” he followed after her, rushing to stop her by walking in front of her.

“No.”

“Oh, so you’re the one who is angry now?” He frowned.

“Yes.”

“Do you remember everything that happened?”

Y/N chuckled dryly. “Yeah, years building up of hating each other, bullying each other, Rome, that night at the club and a pink skirt, a vinyl, that drunken night that probably was a mistake, a date on a plane 3 yellow flowers by you, some by me and lavenders, a script, that disaster at the engagement party, a very, very hurtful breakup I don’t know how many heartbreaks and... my script which you’re now directing, and now due to that bloody script we have to maintain a professional relationship, and if you want to talk to me we will do it tomorrow in that damn meeting,” she snapped as she walked back to Emma. “Goodbye, you can leave.”

Emma was rather amused by the situation, probably the whiskey had an effect on her.

“Oh but we were never good at being professional,” Tom said, following after.

Y/N only glared at him, crossing her arms.

He walked over with a smile, he lifted her chin. She pushed his hand away. “What are you doing?” She asked.

“I’m smiling, didn’t that get you weak in the knees?” He smirked.

“You’re an idiot,” she pushed him.

“Y/n,”he complained.

“Tom why are you even doing this why—?”

“Because--”

“No Tom,” she interrupted. “I don’t even want your reasons,” she frowned. “You know how much this means to me and how much I worked to get a chance for it and I know you hated the script and I know you hate me but getting back at me with this? This is just some other level-”

“I’m not doing this to hurt you.”

“Well you are hurting me! God once again!” She snapped.

“Y/N, Can we please talk about it?” Tom said.

“No, I’m gonna go to the back and when I come back I hope I don’t see you here, don’t you dare follow me,” she said as she finally rushed to the back of the storage closet.

Tom sighed as he closed his eyes with stress. He turned to Emma.

“Yeah don’t look at me, I’m even angrier,” Emma commented.

“Harry went to look for you,” he admitted.

“Ah,” she rolled her eyes.

“He really loves you,” Tom commented.

“Hm.”

“He was confused.”

“Look I… really Tom you’re the person I really don’t want to talk to,” Emma snapped. “you're literally the last person I want to talk to because if it hadn’t been for you ruining my-”

“I’m sorry-”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Tom,” she said. “Besides I don’t know what you’re expecting from y/n.”

“I thought we were supposed to heal and then go back to each other.”

“So you thought that calling to direct her script was the go to?” Emma frowned. “The one project that’s got her excited, you come in, how would you feel if she had walked into a project of yours?”

“Well she’s brilliant but-”

“I’m serious, Tom, you probably wouldn’t be happy, besides… It’s not that simple and you can’t prance in here and smile and pretend it’s fine, and expect her to go back to you.”

“But-”

“No buts, Tom, she’s had one hell of a month trying to get over you,” Emma snapped.

“I love her.”

“You do now? You have no trouble hurting her for someone who claims to love her.”

Tom frowned. “You barely know-”

“No, I do know, I know more than you think, at least I know her, and I must admit she probably still has feelings for you yes but that doesn’t mean she didn’t spend this whole month crying over you and being sad about it.”

“But-”

“And maybe it was easy for you both to show up and think you’re going to solve it, but you don’t even remotely understand it. It might be easy for you, yes, you lost her. And that must have been hard,” she said. “But for her? God, she lost Harry, Sam, and you in one single night.”

“But-”

“Tom I don’t even know what you’re trying to do, I just need you to understand this , you come back into her life and--”

“I want to do the project so we can make something beautiful out of it, okay? And I’ve been dying to see her and I want to work something out-”

“And you think Harry and you showing up will just make it better?”

“No.”

“Then? I’m sorry Tom but that girl is my best friend and I can’t let you hurt her again, but I also know what you mean to her, and… All I know is you’re an idiot, a really big idiot for trying to show up and mend things, of course she won’t talk to you today,” Emma rolled her eyes, tired. “The best advice I can give you is to let her assimilate this, she bloody fainted when she saw you, don’t you think that’s explanation enough?” Emma frowned.

“I-Maybe it was a mistake,” Tom sighed. “Coming here.”

“You think?” Emma frowned.

Tom sighed. “I only have… one question.”

“What?”

“What is going on with Tim and her?”

Emma didn’t answer.

Eliza arrived just at that moment. “I brought the wine!” She announced. “Oh,” that was the only thing she could say.

Tom gulped. “Hello, hi, uh, I came here to buy some flowers?” He looked up.

Eliza only dedicated a glance to Emma, she nodded at her.

“Oh, yes, of course, uh…” Eliza answered as she handed her shopping bags to Emma. “Any particular type?”

Tom looked around the room and his eyes quickly landed on the first yellow flowers. Yellow peonies. He picked them up and then paid for them.

“Give them to her, please,” Tom said, handing it over to Emma.

He then proceeded to leave.

“Yellow peonies?” Eliza frowned. “Second peonies for y/n today. Tim ordered some for her, did she get them? At the studio?”

“Yes, she did,” Emma

“That was odd, that’s Tom, right? Must be a mistake if he chose peonies like Tim, besides, yellow peonies mean jealousy, must be a mistake.”

“No, I don’t think it was.”

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samiralula01 · 4 years

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Jason Todd is the Anti-Batman

* A pointless rambling of the relationship and parallels between Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd.

Picture this opening scene: There are two boys in a dark alley.

One is dressed in an expensive suit with a tie his dead father helped him with only earlier that evening. His hands are stained red with the same blood now puddled on the grimy cement. His face is in shock.

The second boy is dressed in tattered jeans and hoodie. His hands are stained with tires grease and are clutching a tire iron. His face is in shock.

Decades later, there are two more scenes to consider.

A seriously injured man sits slumped over in his father’s study. Without warning, a bat crashes through the window, and everything falls into place. He now knows what he needs to do.

Elsewhere, an emotionally distraught teenager is curled up into a fetal position on a hotel room floor. Heart wrenching cries can be heard from him. But it is only momentary. He now knows what he needs to do.

These two individuals are Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd. While they are both broken and determined men, Batman is a hero. The Red Hood is not. He is the anti-Batman and this is why.

Two Boys in an Alleyway

Despite similarities in their stories’ early themes and elements, Bruce and Jason came to walk down very different paths. One of justice, and the other vengeance. Batman is determined to protect the innocent and Jason more so on punishing the guilty. Both their ideologies have intrinsic flaws, of course, and will naturally clash often. But this wasn’t always the case.

Before they became a father and son perpetually in mourning for who they once were and what could have been, Bruce and Jason were remarkably similar. The two are cut from the same cloth and Bruce knows this better than anyone else.

In the Dumpster Slasher three-part story line, (Batman #414, #421, #422) Bruce becomes emotional. Violent. He sits in the batcave alone that night and contemplates his emotions.

“Nearly blew it. I let it get too personal. Lost my detachment...nearly lost control. Almost beat Cutter to death. Wouldn’t have been any big loss.”

Only one issue later, at the end of this story arc, Robin is out on the streets and becomes angry when he happens upon a pimp is threatening a prostitute with a knife. Now, I want you to compare his line here to Bruce’s and note what Jim Gordon said to him as well.

Batman: "I think he’s had enough, Robin. What were you trying to do, kill him?" Robin (Jason): “Would it’ve been that big of a loss if I had?”

It is important to note here that Batman is not worried or upset just because Jason roughs up a pimp. That would be hypocritical considering his own earlier actions. If anything, it’s because one of the main reasons Batman even takes in these kids, these ‘robins,’ is because he doesn’t want them to be like him.

And Jason was acting just like him.

Jason can and has screwed up and failed due to his own actions, but it was never the reason Batman became upset with him. His reactions in the comics when Jason does things like running ahead and ‘jumping the gun,’ are more like this:

He either makes a teaching moment out of it or is attempts to understand Jason’s reasons in doing any such thing. When Bruce does become harsh in his discipline, it’s either when he feels as though Jason has endangered his own life or as I said, he acts too much like him.

While there are quite a few more similarities between Bruce and Jason that makes them alike, such as both being introverted and interested in obtaining all sorts of knowledge that they might not even feel is relevant, they are both, at the core of their characters, deeply caring and compassionate people.

The differences only start to show with how they act on it.

The Not-So Dynamic Duo?

“What happened to you as a child, the terror, the pain, the horrors (...) you were broken, and I thought I could put the pieces back together. I thought I could do for you what could never be done for me. Make you whole.”

Hot take. Jason Todd is a villain and is best written as a villain.

Not in that campy way like he’s written during Dick and Damian’s Batman and Robin run while wearing that stupid pill-headed hood, (although, I grant he has a few lines that are enjoyable to read) but in all his serious, vengeful and downright brutal motives.

The Red Hood is the perfect Batman villain because he’s so different from what the widely perceived perfect foil to the controlled and disciplined Bat is...the Joker.

The Red Hood was vengeance at its purest. It is justice without being tempered by mercy. It is the rage of victims who were forgotten to become statistics. While other vigilantes wait for a cure, hope for rehabilitation, and pretend their system works, the Red Hood is a man of no such faith.

And this makes him a villain. And a damn good one.

During the Red Hood’s time as a crime lord in Gotham, he goes around blowing up buildings. He throws grenades into trucks. He mows down his competition with gunfire. Batman comes upon the bloodied hanged corpse of a man he was finished interrogating.

But what is so compelling about this all is that before all the murder, all the guns and explosions, Jason Todd was a very different little boy. And all the great and memorable villains start that way.

The Joker is not someone you’re meant to sympathize with or even understand. In fact, I find him more terrifying because he’s unknown. He has no backstory (unless you want to believe the one he gave in Killing Joke, but the clown has a new story for every face he meets) and seemingly does what he does for a laugh of all things.

Jason Todd is in pain. He’s traumatized. Betrayed. Buried. Replaced. He is no one’s son because his father abandoned him.

Once upon a time, Jason Todd was a boy who saved himself. One of the biggest lies that Batman himself perpetuates is that he saved Jason from a life of crime. He tells Alfred that Jason was always dangerous. Bruce simply took him off the streets before he could be any worse.

But I don’t believe that’s true.

Jason grew up surrounded by crime, poverty, substance abuse and yet this amazing kid saved himself everyday by making a conscious choice to be kind and care about school, care about keeping his mother alive for over a year when he was just a child himself. That amazing kid was magic.

Jason Todd as Robin was magic.

“Jason smiles. A bright smile. The kind Robin, the Boy Wonder should have.”

A good portion of his character’s assassination was in order to push the Tim is the perfect Robin idea. It was editorial decisions. The same ‘suits’ who insisted that Tim Drake be the Robin in the New Adventures cartoon despite having Jason’s backstory and personality. But I digress on that.

Jason Todd was an introverted, studious, and emphatic person. He wanted to make friends with other kids his age even though he was a loner at heart. He joined the school baseball team and was a class officer, even if his training kept him from most social interactions.

He was also very much in tune with non-verbal cues and small changes in the environment around him. He was a thoughtful person who could be found admiring the stars or passing by scenery. When he teams up with the New Teen Titans, we get to see these aspects of his personality:

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful before. We’re actually riding above the clouds.”

“Every so often, I notice you become awfully agitated...like something was going on you didn’t want to be part of. Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

It didn’t take Bruce long to fall in love with this boy and ask to legally adopt him. He found him to be smart, thoughtful, quick at learning and funny as hell. Their first meeting opens with Batman laughing in the very same alley his heart was ripped out decades earlier.

Even in the Rebirth canon, (RHATO #48) we see that Bruce is already set on taking in Jason while he’s still with Ma Gunn’s school. He likes this kid. A lot.

“Butler, actually. You’ll meet him someday, I’m sure.”

Jason Todd was happy. Most of the time. Unfortunately, he still wrestled with depression and would sleep all day on occasion and could be found crying hidden away on his own, withdrawn from the concerned Bruce and Alfred.

In A Death in the Family, Alfred and Bruce sit down and discuss Jason’s worsening mental health, particularly after the Diplomat’s Son where Jason becomes witness to sexual assault, suicide and the failings of both Batman and the GCPD to protect innocent people. Barbara, his tutor, someone he cared about and got along with, is also shot a few months earlier.

Bruce thinks Jason has become suicidal. Alfred does not disagree with this theory and supplements it with things he’s observed himself about the ‘lad.’

“I’ve come upon him, several times, looking at that battered old photograph of his mother and father, crying. When he’s seen me, he’s hidden the picture and left the room, refusing to talk.”

It is then that Jason discovers the truth about his mother at the worst possible time, when he’s not even thinking straight, and thus leads way to the tragedy that will be his murder at the hand’s of the Joker.

The Curse of Jason Todd

“Do you have any idea what you have done?! Do you? You have no inkling of what you’ve created -- what you have unleashed! You have set free a curse upon this world!”

Red Hood: Lost Days, which depicts Jason’s dark post-resurrection origin, opens with Ra’s al Ghul bellowing this line, the steam from the Lazarus Pit still rising off of him.

I’m not going to analyze this line, I’m just using it to supplement a point of mine I hope I’m getting through well enough. The Red Hood is a compelling, tragic villain. He is similar to Batman in ways that Bruce always knew and may have even feared because of how intimately he knows his own deepest, darkest thoughts. Jason is the perfect foil as an antagonist for him because of what he represents to Bruce.

And it’s not his anger, or his rage, or even his brutality.

It’s his compassion. His caring. His emotions. And how they can open up the worst parts of themselves.

Both are motivated by preventing whatever trauma happened to them from ever happening to anyone else. They both trained for years with this motivation. And they’ve both acted out on the very person who inflicted their trauma onto them.

Here’s where their paths start to differ, however, and what separates them with a line of morality.

They both get angry. They both care so damn much. About Gotham, about innocents, about each other. They both get too emotionally invested and deal with consequences related to that. To manage with that, Bruce shuts down. He creates all these choices, rules and symbols. He uses every ounce of his self control to keep them.

Bruce Wayne is not a good person. He forces himself to be with discipline and will. He chooses to be a good man and constantly pushes himself to live up to that. Because it’d be too damn easy to be just like the Red Hood.

Jason doesn’t understand that. Because no matter what Bruce had done or will do, he doesn’t hate him. He can’t. Despite his denial of the fact to different people, he still thinks of Bruce as his father. This great figure that so many others revere and are even intimidated by.

He’s not the only bat-kid to think of Bruce in this light despite the fact that the man is not. It took Dick years to overcome that perception. Tim only just started to begin understanding this true nature after his own father was murdered.

But even if he did understand his (once)father, he still became the complete opposite of him despite so many early parallels. He doesn’t hold back his words and emotions, he doesn’t go into a state of controlled dissociation or emotional disengagement.

Jason Todd—the Red Hood—is Batman without all his rules and control. In a way, he’s what the darkest part of Batman himself wants to be. Jason does what Batman can’t do when it’s needed.

Because in Batman’s book, life beats out justice. Even if he could take down abusers and murderers, he won’t. He will choose saving and protecting lives over the apprehension of killers...he always does.

Batman is justice. Red Hood is vengeance.

Jason is a victim’s fantasy. He punishes and kills the guilty. Something Batman won’t do.

He is the anti-Batman for better or for worse.

#jason todd #bruce wayne #comic meta

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sugasugawarau · 3 years

Text

Happy New Years to you all! I’m a bit late in writing and posting this but I wanted to take the time to properly thank everyone who follows me for sticking with me :) I know I’m not the most active when it comes to writing or even making shitposts so I hope you know it means the world to me that you enjoy my content. While just because 2020 has ended does not mean things will get automatically better, know that you have the capability of making a difference both for yourself and others. I’m proud of you for coming this far and please remember to take care of yourself when you can <3

And I’d also like to take the time to thank some individuals who have made a huge impact on my tumblr experience and have made this year better under the cut! Be warned there are many words and also sorry for any typos I wrote this at 3am :D

I’m going to start off with a few major lo$ers (joking) aka my irl friends that have tumblr

@kbh-ton, @ashr00m, @kae-and-the-lost-dragons

Okay the fact that you all follow me here is EMBARRASSING because you have to endure perceiving me from a sorta totally different perspective but surprise hi,, ily 😹 I know ⅔ of you don’t even use tumblr that often but I digress!! Thank you?? Like I’m not kidding when I say I don’t know where I would be without any of you guys. Stinky pp Paul, you’ve been here with @/sugasugawarau since the beginning-ish and have always been supportive of my absolutely stupid ideas. And my sons AKA get cucked squad, this is going to be ultra sappy but I hope you know how proud I am of the both of you (but no thanks to one of you for teaching us about nussies 😕). Thank you all for tolerating my overthinking ass as well as whenever I get high from a lack of sleep and just in general bc I’m a constant mess of a human being; you are all the best people ik stfu I don’t take criticism.

To my first ever tumblr mutual, @tendouthighs

Hi Codie!! Ik we haven’t talked a lot lately but just know that I appreciate your endless kindness and how you’re able to keep up with my smooth brain antics in dms so much. You’re so funny and I’ll treasure all the jokes and headcanons we’ve made, I hope you’re taking care and doing well heading into 2021! 💖💕

To wife Lyra @yacoka

Miss… Thank you sm for dropping by my inbox all the way back in like June/July because otherwise I don’t think I’d ever have gotten the courage to dm you LOL. It would be an understatement to say that you’re the kindest and most easygoing person I’ve met on here - I hope you know how grateful I am to have met you and read your works (and for lending me your knives and just being so?? supportive??? truly idk how you do it but ily 😣❣️)

To wife Joy @lesbians4yaku

Joy!!! I really don’t know where to start because you’re just so amazing?? And we’ve been mutuals for as long as I can remember ajdjfka I’m just,, so glad to have met you and I hope you know how much I love seeing you on the dash, whether it’s being able to marvel at the genius that is your mind whenever you make a haikyuu shitpost or reading your tags. You always make me laugh and smile and I am wishing you both of those things in 2021 bc u deserve the best, love u 🤍🤍🤍

To Arell, the sweetest soul I know @g4nyu

You have a natural talent for being able to make me both soft ™ and also laugh as freely as Tanaka and Nishinoya with your relatable quips and jokes and I adore you for it. (Also.. can we talk about how absolutely gorgeous your writing is I will nvr shut up.. also also I am here whenever u need to be enabled to rave abt any and all Haikyuu or Genshin characters <33) ily and ty for being my mutual, I feel v lucky to have u in my life 🥺

To Cal, a goddess in her own right @heyhinata

Ma’am the way ily?? You’re beautiful inside and out and I have sm fun talking to you. Being able to call you a mutual and read your works is a blessing and I’m so glad we started talking in dms ajsjfja I’ll never forget plotting smaus with you to raving abt Genshin and making fun of B*n Sh*piro, hidden muppet 😍 Wishing you the best in all that you do!

To Rae, fellow Tim Hortona enthusiast @mehreya

Hi bae I just want to start off with a big thank you. You’re such a wonderful and invigorating person to talk to and I always feel at ease talking with you, and seeing you on my dash with your interactions with others is always a light in my day. And for u I will embrace the Oikawa kinnie in me any day <33 ly and have an amazing New Years 🥰

To Ria, the absolute best and only Ria ik @kumaoi

Omg hi sexc 😍 ahdjkfka idk if you’ll see this but hey,, fun fact even if we don’t talk as much as we used to I still love u sm and I hope you’re staying healthy and happy !! Meeting you was and still is one of the best highlights of my tumblr journey and I’ll always be grateful for your existence

To Gracie, writer of all things beautiful @sneezefiction

Gracie!! I hope you’ve been doing well since the last time we talked and that you’re enjoying the New Years to the fullest <3 You were also one of my earliest mutuals and I just wanted to say thank you for all the kindness you’ve shown me and for writing and sharing your works on tumblr. Sending love ! 💖

To the one and only angel, Yas @whipped-cream-writings

Yas bb we only became mutuals rather recently but I have sm love for you 🥺 Your kindness inspires me and your fics are the cutest things ever (pls,,, teach me how to write fluff ahfjfkka) Ilysm and I want to remind you that you’re so wonderful and amazing, sending you all my love for the upcoming year ahead !!

To Kay, who I will protect with my life @kayzume

Kay I don’t know how to even begin to put in words how glad I am to have met you in Lyra’s server,, you’re so sweet and you make me feel safe every time we talk. (Also THE DRAWINGS u made and shared with us,,, have I alr said ily bc ily and all that you do.) I know we haven’t chatted in a while but I’m sending you all my hugs and kithes always 💕💕💖

To mutuals I’ve interacted with some time during these months on tumblr and cherish a whole lot @taiyaaki @kageyuji @sophiawithstars @buddh-art @sa-suga @baeshijima @cherryonigiri @catharsisbabey @tris-does-stuff @tetsurolls @come-on-shitty-boys @iwas-angel @star-puff @voxamcris @azucanela @heartjime @miyafeuille @suikazura @deerixiie @hajiimes @skateme2yokohama @aliteama @yuujiya @omijime and many others but I think I hit the tagging limitajdhfka

Hi ily. You’re all such inspiring and talented individuals and while we may not interact frequently or know each other as well I wish we cld be ajfjjfa but I adore you all and I wish you an amazing New Year 🥺💖 (and if you ever want to talk, feel free to dm or smth! and I’ll try my best to be more active in popping into my mutual’s inboxes amhahshsj)

To the pillars of tumblr @sugardaddykenma @hina-wit-da-glock @nidaenk

You are all so special to me in that you are the reason I would wake up and get my butt on this hellsite and find so much fun and joy in the fandoms I enjoy - it’s not even the content you post but just,, your amazing and stellar personality and interactions with your followers and mutuals alike. Thank you for being a part of this weird space on the internet and I hope you are taking care and being kind to yourself, love u very much <33

#long post #happy new years !!#again #proud of everyone for making it here #bye i dont mean it to but that sounds so cryptic #i shld stop rambling in tags

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lovely-necromancy · 3 years

Text

A Cure for Insomnia CH 14

Somehow someway you had ended up spending the night in Toby's room. What had started out as sitting next to him turned into laying down next to him. And after a while of no talking or movement, just the steady sounds of breathing. You more or less closed you eyes for a minute.

Before you knew it you were waking up to sun in your face. And found a blanket haphazardly thrown onto you. Though honestly you probably just moved a lot in your sleep. A quick glance around the room tells you you're alone and by the looks of it have been for a little while now. Weirdly there doesn't seem to be a clock in the room and when you go to check your phone the battery is dead.

'Oh God what time is it?' you worry as you gather yourself to leave the room in search of a clock.

Even though you have the strongest suspicion that you're already late for work. Fuck Nate is gonna kill you. You hope you don't get fired for this. That doesn't really seem like the Cowell way but you really don't want to risk it. No where else in town would pay the bills plus give extra cash for doing jack shit.

Just as you closed the door behind you you see Toby and Connor walking up the corridor. Toby has two bowls in hand and his steps falter a bit when he sees you.

“Shit did I wake you up?”

You can see the veins in his arms as he tenses, poor guy must have a tic coming on. You hold your hands out to give him the option of handing them over so he can relax. With no hesitation on his end he does just that.

“No? I don't think so, I just woke up. What time is it?”

Toby's hands jolt in place. A large tremor of movement, thankfully you took the bowls from him so he wouldn't have splashed...cereal? Your confusion must have shown because you get a nervous laugh in response.

“It's like eight twenty or something.” seeing you visibly deflate he adds, “Barry told me to tell you you're excused from work today.” He took a bowl back from you and placed a hand at the small of your back to push you back towards his room. Apparently done with having a conversation in the hallway and letting your breakfast get soggy.

“Barclay.” you remind him, your efforts award you a shrug, “and are you serious? Because making me late for work wouldn't be very funny.”

He plops on his bed and a bit of milk sloshes out of the bowl dropping on to the sheets. In the back of your mind you think about how Barclay more than likely is going to ban Toby from the lodge for anything other than an emergency. At least if he ruins the bed by dropping food all over it...actually you're pretty sure Jake's mentioned there being a rule about eating in the rooms.

“I'm serious, you can go ask him yourself.” his face flushes as he shovels a spoonful of Captain Crunch into his mouth, “twey shed somfingu bot ah ahpawawgee for da kid”

You give Toby a sneer as you process what he just said. Even normally your brain didn't always process what was said to you properly and Toby speaking with a full mouth certainly didn't help in any case. But you can kind of gleam a bit more context from his red cheeks that your spontaneous three day weekend is thanks in part to Jo hanging out with you yesterday.

Really you didn't mind that she hung out with you. But you would accept the apologetic day off for her attempting to give you a love life. You aren't one of her gossip stories nor do you wish to be.

“First, gross dude. Second, I'll take it.”

He snorts, “Watching me chew through the hole in my face is ne-neat but me talking with my mouth full is where you draw the line?”

“Honestly I never even thought of that.”

You can't help but let out a chuckle at how dumb that must have made you look. Geez you were such a dork sometimes. On the other hand it seems like that must have been the funniest thing Toby's heard in a while as he roars with laughter. Soon your chuckles turn into full blown laughter from Toby's contagious mirth.

“I'll get out of your hair after I finish eating.” you finally say when the two of you calm.

“...you don't have to do that. I-i thought we cou-cou-could hang out?” he says sheepishly.

Toby tends to stutter when he's nervous you notice. Maybe this was to be expected you kind of did solidify that you both wanted to be friends. Of course that would mean opening up to hanging out together on purpose more often.

“I'd like that! Did you have something in mind?”

The room goes quite, well more accurately Toby goes quite as you finish your cereal. Looks like someone hadn't thought this far ahead. At least you aren't the only dork in this room or this friendship for that matter.

Toby's dark eyes scan around the room, not really looking for something while he thinks of something you could do today. Instead of just staring at him like a creep you turn your attention to the rottweiler looking at you with hopeful eyes. Connor's eyes briefly moving towards your bowl where a tiny bit of milk sits and then back at your face. Licking his chops as he looks you dead in the eyes.

Having a pretty good idea of what he wants you look for Toby's bowl. If it was on the ground that'd be a good indication that Connor's allowed a bit of cereal milk if it was on the bed well then you'd still have your answer. And sure enough right next to Connor's butt is an empty bowl.

Yup, Barclay is so gonna ban Toby from the lodge.

Throwing out any thoughts of the lecture you'd get if Barclay were to find out you let a dog eat from his bowls you place the bowl in front of Connor. Who sits in his position and won't stop making eye contact with the bowl. Tail going a mile a minute as he stares at his prize in anticipation. God he really is the best boy in the whole world.

“Thank you Connor.” you whisper to the dog before he attacks the bowl.

As the pup rips into the left over cereal milk, which wasn't even that much, you can't keep yourself from flapping your hands right by your chest. The fast movement seems to catch Toby's attention and brings him out of wracking his brain for ideas. Giving you a moment to just enjoy the happy stim he just watches. It isn't until Connor has bounded over to you letting you pet him as a 'thank you' for giving him a treat, that Toby speaks up.

“Is there...what's there to do here?”

Looking at Toby as you shake Connor's ears around, you don't immediately say anything. Honestly thinking of just what the two of you could do in this small town. Something that wouldn't prove to be too distracting and maybe give the two of you a chance to get to know each other better. Something without too many interruptions or things to get you off topic.

“Wanna go get a slushy?”

Toby's brown eyes cut as he stares at you unimpressed.

“I kno-rrow that we're in a small town but, 's not that small.”

“Oh no it's actually smaller.”

He rolls his eyes with a huff ready to bite in with a snarky remark no doubt until he catches your eyes and the serious expression. He stares at you, eyes darting across your face looking for a sign that you're joking.

Thankfully you aren't one to leave a friend in the dark.

“Tobias, the gas station Tim works at is the only one for this town.”

“That can't be right, it's not even in town. What about...” once again Toby's eyes shift as he tries to think of any other gas stations within Kepler.

When he comes to the conclusion that you are indeed not fucking with him and Kepler does just have the one gas station his shoulders slump. Almost like he's in shock that he hadn't caught that sooner. You can feel the tinkling sensation of a tic coming up, at the base of your neck. Timing it mentally as you watch Toby go through the stages of grief you miscalculate and ruin your tic.

Head jolting into your right shoulder rather than jerking above it. Letting out a small “fuck” at the fact that you're about to be in an uncomfortable sensation, not totally unlike when you chase off a sneeze but still do need to sneeze. You feel the tic at the back of your head but know it won't be going away anytime soon and all thanks to your hubris.

Looking back at Toby you find he's moved on from the single gas station fact and is looking at you mildly amused. Briefly you wonder if he's ever chased off a tic and felt the uncomfortable sensation you're now dealing with. That leads you to ponder if he's ever even felt the anticipation of nerves before a coming tic. It's not really a painful sensation but discomfort sometimes goes in hand with pain so maybe CIPA affects that feeling too. You'll have to ask, but first you have to shut his stupid face up.

“Shut it.”

“Didn't say anything.” he smirks.

His smiles are really growing on you. They feel special and very genuine despite the awkward nature of his facial movements.

“Hey wait, the mini mart doesn't even have a slushy machine.” he says as the realization finally sets in.

“Yea we have to drive to another town for one. So far Franklin has the best slushies but it's like two hours away.”

You lean your weight back onto your hands watching as Toby's wide eyes stare at you in disbelief. Actually in this light you really can't tell if Toby's eyes are blown wide or in their normal state. Judging from the way his lips curl over his teeth you figure they must be as he stares stunned by something you've said.

“Do you seriously drive two hours for a slushy?” the disbelief in his voice is thick, but not thick enough to cover the thinnest hint of amusement. Maybe even pity.

“Not all the time, sometimes its only like thirty. One night I actually drove five hours without realizing it...though to be fair I did get lost.”

Lost in your thoughts on that particular night some how you'd ended up in Point Pleasant. Instead of a slushy you'd gotten a Mothman themed iced coffee. A nice trip over all but one you didn't want to go on at the moment.

Coming back to the present in time to catch Toby flopping back on the mattress his curls bouncing up over his face as he did so. He let's out an exaggerated groan.

“Still, Brian's got the car today.”

Pfft that's not an issue.

“I have a car.” you say plainly.

That must not be the issue because Toby raises himself onto his elbows to look at your lax form on the carpet. Leaning back on your hands with Connor splayed across your lap looking ready for a nap. Toby opens his mouth to say something before shutting it and looking off to the side. He seems to collect himself quickly but not enough to look at you.

“Uh..I, that's not really the...” well maybe he hadn't collected himself that much.

Brow furrowing as you squint at the man before you. The two of you don't know a lot about each other but from what you've noticed Toby has some hang ups about drivers and driving. Although he's let you drive him home once that doesn't mean he was comfortable with it or wanted a repeat performance. And while you don't consider yourself a bad driver you'll spare Toby the difficulty of admitting he isn't comfortable with you driving.

“You can drive.” dark brown eyes are on you the instant the words spill from your lips, “You've driven my car before. Plus I don't mind I like not driving.”

His eyes dart from you to Connor and back up into your face. Even though they're darting slightly you know he isn't such evaluating your expression. He's thinking and weighing his options.

“You sure?”

And with no hesitation at all, “Absolutely, you've driven it before.”

Though he hadn't been thinking of that particular issue with being given the choice of driving your car. It did bring up another insecurity before hastily stomping it into the ground. He has driven your car, albeit once, before and you are giving him explicit consent to drive it again. Regardless of his tourette's, Toby honestly can't believe you have such blind faith in a person you've just befriended. Then again that's friendship isn't it.

“Ok then...let's go?”

After a nod from you Toby grabs Connor's gear to get him ready for the drive. Meanwhile you take the dishes back downstairs to the kitchen, letting Toby know you'd meet him by the door. Unsurprisingly Barclay is in the kitchen when you get down there to place the bowls into the sink.

Seeing as it's just the bowls and spoons in the sink you decide you can wash them before placing them in the sanitizer rack.

“Mornin'.”

“Good morning.”

“Basket's on the table.”

“Thanks.”

A quiet settles over you two and you can feel Barclay's brown eyes trail towards your form every few seconds. Finishing the dishes you turn, leaning your butt onto the counter, to face the lumbering man.

“Can I help you?” you raise a brow at him. Clearly he had something more he wanted to say.

“I, I just thought we were closer than that.” he sighs.

Okay what now? Your confusion goes ignored as he continues to speak.

“Seriously YN, you didn't need to sneak away last night if you wanted to spend the night here, and with your boyfriend. I wouldn't have judged.”

“My who? Tobais? He's a friend!” you whisper scream in case Toby is near by. God could at least save one of you this embarrassment.

“Really YN? From the things I'm hearin' you two are a bit more than friends.”

“Ok seriously where are you getting your info from? We haven't done anything. Like just YESTERDAY we agreed we were friends. We've known each other maybe a month?!”

“See that's why this is confusing, you don't touch just anyone. And suddenly you're handsy with some new kid.” Barclay had the decency to start whisper screaming with you. He's gesturing vaguely towards the rest of the lodge before bringing his hands before him and flailing them away. As if to say 'what am I supposed to do with this now?'

“He's neurodivergent!” you say bringing your palms up in front of you.

“So are Jake and Aubrey.”

“And I high five Jake so much.” throwing your arms outward to indicate how much you two high five. “Plus he gets a hug nearly every time I see him.” hands brought back to emphasis this point.

Barclay thinks on that for a bit, “Point taken,” he stands from his hunched position and crosses his arms over his chest, “so y'all aren't dating? Nothin' happened last night?”

“No and no.”

“Don't have to deep clean the sheets today.”

“Gross and no.” best keep the milk droplets out of this, you'd really like to leave the kitchen sooner rather than later. Preferably with no lecture about hygiene and the importance of respecting other's property.

Barclay looks down at you scanning your face for something you aren't quite sure of. But you have a feeling he's treating you like a child for a very specific reason.

“I'm not a virgin.” you deadpan as the man before starts to sputter.

His eyes wide with disbelief. So he really thought you were a virgin this whole time? You wonder who else thought this, you hoped they wouldn't try to confront you about your nonexistent relationship.

You'll just never understand why people assume you're a virgin and why they try their hardest to butt into your life when they think that way. This topic tends to put you in a sour mood and you can already feel it on your face. It's disgusting how people can't mind their business about baseless assumptions.

“Jeez sorry YN,” he does look it as he rubs the back of his neck, “it's just you've never shown an interest and I guess we all got swept up in the possibility of seeing you happy.”

“I am happy?”

“I mean in a relationship, happy in a romantic relationship.” He claps his hands gently on your shoulders. A touch you've gotten used too, had you not wanted it you would've taken a step back.

“Kirby's not in a relationship.” you point out.

“Kirby's gross, and you're adorable.” he chuckles at your glare, “a-dor-a-ble.”

“I will bite you.” he lets go of you with a laugh.

“We're just...trying to keep you safe.” he sighs, and though you don't understand what any of their weirdness has to do with “keeping you safe” you nod. Just to get this over with faster.

“Can I leave now? Tobais and I were gonna get slushies.” he didn't need to know your plans but you didn't want him assuming you two were sneaking off for a date.

“Yea yea, sorry for keeping you.” he leans against the counter as you grab your basket and head out of the kitchen and towards the main door.

Toby and Connor were already waiting for you. If the swaying of his weight was anything to go by they'd been waiting for you for a bit. Seeing you coming his subconscious movement stops and he opens the door. Keeping it open for you. You lead him over to your Soul as you look through the basket for the keys.

“Keys?” he questions as you pat your pockets.

Toby stops walking with you as you begin to panic. You've lost your keys. Before you voice that though you look through the basket once more, placing it on the hood of your car so you can use both hands to check. His eyes follow you and are caught by a gentle swaying.

“You are a serial killer's wet dream.”

He opens your passenger side door and comes out holding your keys that had been in the ignition. If the blank look he gives you is anything to go by he's not impressed.

“I,I,I was in a hurry!” you say flustered that you did something so stupid. His expression doesn't change.

“Could you pop the trunk please?” you ask not looking in his direction.

The click of the lock is all you need to hear before you rush around him to place the basket in the back. As you do you catch sight of the deer skull still in your trunk. With everything going on you hadn't been to see Madeleine for a mount for the guy. You'll have to remember to stop by her shop this week.

Toby had already gotten Connor situated in the back by the time you sat down in the passengers seat. After buckling in and plugging your phone in to charge you stare ahead of you waiting for Toby to start driving. When you look over at him you see he's staring right back at you with a brow raised.

“Yes?”

“Where are we going?”

Yes the key detail of any road trip, the driver needs to know the destination. Unfortunately for you and Toby you've forgotten to tell him one crucial detail. You drive with no sense of direction. And you relay this to Toby. He looks seconds away from getting out of the car and claiming he's never seen you before much less ever been friends with you.

He takes a deep breath and collects himself.

“Y'know what Brian's worse with directions.” he says more to himself than to you.

He calmly puts the car in gear and heads off to town. No input from Connor, you may have chosen a really good day for this drive. Your phone hits one percent as you pass Resort Row. You know the Hornet's Nest is coming up and that intersection leads to the interstate despite not having legible signs.

“Hey when you get to the Hornet's Nest swing right then drive straight, we'll end up on route 3 onto the interstate.”

“Hornets' nest?”

“It's a skate/stunt park. You'll see it after we get away from the mountain.”

Just as you said Toby saw the Hornet's Nest as he turned onto the road leaving the mountain. By the time you were on route 3 your phone had charged up to seven percent. Enough to turn it on and put on a playlist. You put on one of your sea shanty and folk punk combos.

Toby hasn't even let the song get thirty seconds under way. “No vetoed, we are not listening to sea shanties.”

So he does have music preferences, fair enough. You switch to a playlist with a more chilled electric vibe that has a few oldies tossed into the mix. Toby hasn't heard this playlist before and you are determined to learn his music tastes today.

“Wait wait wait, so you'll listen to folk punk but not sea shanties?”

“How are those even related?”

“They are literally the same thing.”

The two of you continue to bicker back and forth about how similar, or different, shanties and folk punk are. Occasionally it's broken when you read a sign, noticing Toby's horrible squinting, to see if you're on the right route to...well you don't know the destination Toby's been ignoring most of the exits for the past forty minutes though you're sure you two could find a gas station with a slushy machine at any one of the surrounding towns.

You don't mind though you're really enjoying the ride. The soft sounds of the car cutting through the wind at seventy three miles an hour. And the dull hum from the engine falling into the background as They Might Be Giants plays softly through the radio. With a majority of his focus being directed to the road and the handful of other cars around you, your conversation is limited to topics that don't require much thinking. Really you've just ended up playing twenty questions with the other pulling uno reverse.

Not life altering secrets or deep talks...well until the question was favorite romantic comedy.

“How is Venom a romantic comedy?” Toby laughs after you answer.

“They kiss!” Toby just snorts.

“No Venom in Anne's body kisses Eddie.”

“Yes Venom kissed Eddie. Romance.”

You hear the murmur of 'oh my fucking God' come from Toby as you giggle in your seat. Having been egged on by that simple phrase you continue.

“Eddie is always giving Venom chocolates.”

“Oh yes, sorry, that's very romance.” Toby laughs out rolling his eyes.

“Thank you, I'm glad I could enlighten...” you pause as a sign for the next exit catches your eye. Had you two already driven two hours? Time really does fly when you're having fun. “Hey next exit, Franklin.”

“Thanks got it.” this time he turns on the blinker to get over into the exiting lane.

“What gas station am I looking for?” smart man. He's stopped asking for specific directions and is now asking for a land marker.

“Giant baby.” the car comes to a stop at a red light and Toby takes his eyes off the road to face you.

“...is this...will I just know when I see it.” “When you see it” you say the last part in unison with him nodding solemnly.

To his credit Toby has gone a long way with your weird antics, despite being your official friend for less than a full day. Keeping up with this pattern he doesn't ask anymore questions about this giant baby, keeping his eyes peeled for anything worthy of that title. His valent efforts are rewarded not even ten blocks from the turnpike.

“Is that...”

“Giant baby.” you nod knowing he sees the giant opposum decal in the window of the beat up gas station.

Opening your glove box you remove a spare mask for yourself before offering a sealed in package one for Toby. Who readily takes it after he parks your car in front of the store. Turning to look at you, you can read all the skepticism on his face. It's funny how this is where he questions you, your destination and not like the way over here-or the moment right after you told him you had no sense of direction.

“They have the four divide mega slush.”

“What the hell is that?”

With a coy smile you put on your mask and exit the car waiting at the front for your friend to get his shit together. He doesn't take long to follow you, Connor's lead in hand, into the gas station.

For as dingy and beat up as it looks on the outside it isn't bad once you step inside. Might actually be cleaner than the mini mart in Kelper. Toby glances around taking a mental tally of all the patrons in the store and their positions. He does this a bit. Just hyper aware of everyone when in enclosed spaces.

Dragging him over to the slushy machine after acknowledging the cashier's greeting. Showing him the four divider mega slush cup you demonstrate how it works. Choosing the only three flavors you like and adding a random extra of the three into the forth slot.

The face he makes when you stick the straw in the middle is priceless.

Toby demonstrates how a slushy should be made. Grabbing the single cup and over filling it with cherry flavored ice. He doesn't pick up a straw and you two make your way to the counter.

Since Toby drove here you had no problem paying but he was quicker to get his wallet out and hand the cashier a ten for your slushies. They give him back his change and you two wind up back in the car, taking off your masks.

You take a long sip from you drink.

“I can't believe we drove for two hours for you to just wreck your taste buds.” a playful disdain in his voice.

“Not 'we', you.”

He cuts his eyes at you before shaking his slushy into his open mouth. Guess he couldn't use a straw when he was missing part of his cheek. No suction there.

“So?” you say adding the questioning lilt to your voice.

He shrugs, “It's good.”

“Worth the drive?” He shakes his head.

“Nah - drive made it worth it.”

#Timothy Wright #ticci toby #ticcitoby #ticci tobyx reader #ticci toby x reader #tobias erin rogers #timothy wright x reader #timothy wright x brian thomas #Brian Thomas #brian thomas x reader #creepypasta fanfic #a cure for insomnia #masky x reader

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readbyred · 3 years

Note

i was wondering if you could do a gender neutral reader with the "having a crush on you" preference except with the Black Friday cast (i don't really mind what characters from the cast as along as Ethan's included) it's completely fine if not! Thank you for reading.

Of course! Thank you so much for requesting^^

Having a crush on you - Black Friday

i wanted to finish this on the same day so i made some cuts, i really wanted to write about sherman (gary and older!ted too to be honest) but mayhaps i will get back to it in the future^^

Linda

she’s very,, confused

because she wants to show you love and all but promises herself she won’t sink that low

tries to impress you so hard it’s not even funny

but i assume the fact that she’s rich doesn’t instantly make you swoon

so that leaves her with little to no ideas

she’s SO over the top and unironically uses the ‘oh i didn’t see you there’ because she’s too proud to admit she’s been seeking you

wants to make you fall for her as fast as possible because she feelslike you should be pining for her not the other way around

has some self doubt if you are blind to her (terrible) advances but would never admit it

she tries to be funny and be mean to ohers like she berated becky because she wants to make you laugh and she would die if she was nice for 5 seconds

remember draco from avpm? yeah she’s like that but worse

actually stops sleeping around as fast as she catches feelings

Lex

very casual about it

trusts you with her private life and just in confides you in general

but other than that she doesnt treat you any differently

she thinks she doesn’t have time for relationships and she needs to focus on work and on her sister

when pamela started pushing more illegal activities onto her she distances herself

if you stick through it she’ll grow closer to you

comes over a lot if you allow her

tells you about her plans for the future and asks about yours

meets you for smoke breaks to talk about work and life and how much both suck

teases you sometimes

gets high and plans the future with you on the days her mom is out and when hannah is asleep

can get blushy at times but masks it well

Frank

he’s very extra but thinks he’s being smooth

makes himself out to be the good guy of every situation because he wants you to be on his side

very flirty

talks a lot about you

lex will probably ‘accidentally’ slip up about this if he was being a bigger jerk than usual earlier that day

in general does a 180 with his attitude to seem more nice

since his accomplishments (and worth a bit too) to him mostly consist of how good he’s doing at his job he will gladly brag about it

tries to show you his side and his ideals

overall he wants you to like him but he’s not really putting in the effort to be a more likeable person

Ethan

the second he sees you his iq drops to negative 20

so most people can tell he likes you just by how stupid he’s acting

would do anything for you if you asked and does many favours in general even if you didn’t ask

wants to impress you SO BADLY which woud be alright if he would’t also show off

now he’s not much of a show-off usually but if someone dares him he will do a lot of stupid things to make you laugh or impress you

but that’s the more dangerous side, he also tries to take care of you and help you in stuff

firstly because he likes to see you happy but he also wants you to see him as someone who’s good enough for you because he’s not very sure he it

surprisingly he’s somewhat shy about phisical contact but will gladly gove you some if you initiate it first

and did i mention he’s extremely protective (not posessive for the record) and can and will get into a fight if someone threatens you

in most cases he’ll listen to you if you state that you don’t want him doing so

jokes with you a lot too

but can be serious if you need it

like when you are upset he’s the first one to come and offer you comfort even if he’s not always the best at it

saves up to give you nice things too

Tom

(i dont really like him so it will be short)

very soft for you

slowly opens up to you

after some time introduces you to Tim

has times when things are going too quick and he steps back

very nervous and awkward in the beggining

i mean as time goes on it doesn’t get THAT better but he has his moments

protective of you

asks for your opinion often and likes to listen to you talk

Becky

you thought tom was awkward? well she’s worse

tries to compliment you but is very shy about it

always listens to what you have to say

doesn’t ask you to meet but always gladly accepts your offers

gives you some phisical affection if you consent (like hugs when she greets you)

very worried for you and always makes sure you’re okay if something bad happens

praises you a lot even for small things

the whole town knows at this point

Wilbur

he will jump right into action and by that i mean he will be a creep

i’m sorry but he’s just like that at this point

catcalls and makes comments

he knows all timelines and uses that to show you that being with him will end better than some of your other lives (having aliens wear your skin, dying in a explosion) which isn’t much but he also uses details from your personal life too like in two years time you’ll have an abusive partner do you really wanna that over this

look, i said he likes you i never said that’s a good thing

and well, you don’t know how he got there but he’s sometimes hanging around your apartment now and that’s just life now

personal space? privacy? who’s are they?

flirts heavily but doesn’t get romantic, i feel like he’d be more all bark no bite type with it

lots of casual phisical contact

might steal your clothes,,,

Cineplex teen

at first he tries to avoid you because he doesn’t think you’d like him back

but also because he doesn’t want to embarass himself

he’s smitten and a bit of a mess but he’s also very tired so usually his lack of energy prevents him from doing something unusually stupid

if someone he doesn’t know questions him about his feelings he’ll deny it not to make you uncomfortable

but if a friend does he just tells the truth already having given up on the case

if you need help with something (and he works everywhere so location isn’t important here) he’ll gladly help you and will give additional tips

sometimes zones out staring

#black friday x reader #black friday preference #black friday lex #cineplex teen #black friday becky #black friday tom #starkid #black friday starkid #black friday frank #black friday linda #ethan green #ethan green x reader

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voiceless-terror · 4 years

Text

Wrong End of a Gun (The Magnus Archives)

Whumptober 2020 Day Three: Held at Gunpoint

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Characters: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Daisy Tonner, Tim Stoker

CW: Blood/Injury

Summary:

Jon accidentally compels Daisy. She makes him regret it.

“Is this how you normally conduct your investigations?”

It was meant to be snarky, rhetorical. Jon had finally mustered the energy for a comeback, feeling more himself than he had in ages. He and Daisy were on the trail of the Stranger, almost ready to investigate Breekon & Hope and track down Sarah Baldwin. But as soon as the words were out of his mouth he realized his mistake. There was a static in his ears and it poured into his voice, ripping her answer out of her throat like a hunter with prey.

“I’m more apt to chase ‘em down, use my gun and watch them bleed. They don’t ask questions at the station, not anymore.” Her eyes narrowed- she knew what Jon had done. Before he could move she had him by the throat, throwing him to the ground with a growl as his still-healing neck stung in pain. Jon let out a choked cry, flailing backwards until he hit the wall and attempted to make himself as small as possible.

“I can show you, if you like,” the whisper was dangerous and low in his ear. He shook, throwing an arm over his face with a pathetic whimper. Basira wasn’t here to save him this time. Could anyone hear them? Martin? Tim? Melanie? Would anyone come if he called? Please, please help-

The sound of a gun being cocked made the terror freeze in his chest. She wouldn’t, she couldn't, not while Elias still had Basira trapped in the Archives. But Jon could hear her steps and feel the anger radiating off her every move. She chuckled humorlessly and the sound was familiar. Everyone seemed to find him so funny these days. One day they’ll drag his corpse into the Archives and everyone will laugh and laugh. Stupid Jon, couldn’t keep well enough alone!

“I’d make it slow, you know,” she was back in his face, pulling his arm away and grabbing his chin, forcing him to look into her eyes. They held a feral glow as she tenderly, mockingly tucked a stray hair behind his ear and he trembled in place. “Shoot you in the arm, maybe the side first. Just a graze, enough to bleed but not enough to take you down.” Her eyes never left his as she ghosted a hand down his ribs and his shivering intensified.

“I’d let you run for a bit, leaving your scent all over the woods,” she tutted at this, shaking her head in faux-disappointment. A hand across his neck comes away with blood and she’s happy, so happy to see it. Jon can feel his vision clouding. Was he crying or losing consciousness? Hopefully the latter. “You’re such an easy target. It’s sad to see. Elias should have let me finish the job, but here we are.” This seemed to be his only saving grace these days- Elias needs him. But for what purpose, what end? To be a scapegoat and a punching bag? There’s so much he doesn’t know and so much that Elias won’t tell him. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.

“Next, the leg!” Daisy kicked at his ankle and he made a piteous sound, trying in vain to curl further into himself. “Now you’re crawling on all fours. So pathetic.” And suddenly Jon was no longer in his office. He heard the sounds of the forest, he felt the rough ground digging to his back as she flipped him over easily and put the gun to his head; his eyes were wide, drinking it all in.

The cold muzzle of the gun was at his forehead and even as he shook, even as he closed his eyes in fear he felt a strange peace. A comfort. It’ll be over soon, it whispered. Just close your eyes and count to three and-

“Bang!” Daisy’s voice went off like the sound of a bullet and he yelped, expecting pain but feeling none. She laughed, high and hysterical and mean as he fought to take in heaving breaths. “Look at your face! God, it’s so easy to-”

“What the hell, Daisy?” Jon cracked open one eye to see Martin at the door, Tim close behind him. Martin looked furious and Jon remembered a time when he stood in that doorway, flinging worms at Jon’s feet and demanding he listen. “What are you-Jon!” At once Martin was at his feet, kneeling down and putting a hesitant hand on his shoulder as Jon flinched. The warmth of his hand burned through his shirt. People didn’t touch him with good intentions anymore. Hands were supposed to hurt.

“Are you alright?” he asked urgently, but his voice was so soft. Jon could cry from the tenderness of it. “Did she do anything to you?”

“Did I do anything to him? That little monster?” Daisy replied, disbelief evident in her tone. Jon cowered further, leaning into Martin’s touch. “I should think it’s the opposite- always asking his questions and ripping out the answers-”

“Stop waving that gun around!” Tim yelled, ducking out of the doorway. “You’re going to get us all killed.”

She barked out a laugh but holstered the gun. “Not if he doesn’t first.” She moved towards the door, grinning with too many teeth as Tim dodged out of her way. “Let me know if you’d like me to finish the job, Stoker,” she jeered, jerking her head in Jon’s direction. If Tim replied he didn’t hear it. At this point, Jon wasn’t sure if it would be yes or no.

“It’s fine, she’s gone now,” Martin said soothingly, wrapping his arms around Jon now that the imminent danger had passed. Tim lingered in the doorway, fixing Jon with a hard glare he couldn’t look away from. “We won’t let anything happen to you.” He desperately wanted to believe that, but in less than a day he would be back out with Daisy and there would be nothing anyone could do to stop her, not if she wanted him dead. Sure he had power, but what could he do with it? Alienate his allies, irritate his foes, and not much else. Worthless.

“I didn’t mean to,” he whispered, grabbing at Martin’s sweater and looking into those kind, worried eyes. “I didn’t mean to ask a question. You believe me, right?” Static. Martin opened his mouth and answered right away.

“Of course.” He clammed up immediately afterwards, his face hardening. And Jon- Jon had done it again. He looked at Martin in horror, an apology on his lips before Tim began to speak.

“What the fuck, Jon,” Tim was angry, Tim was always so angry but he deserved it, didn’t he? “Now you’re doing it to us? C’mon Martin, leave him be. Just another fucking monster to deal with-”

“No, Tim,” Martin replied firmly, anger settling into every line of his face. Jon ducked his head; he couldn’t bear to look at him and see the disappointment he was sure was directed at him. “Get out.”

“What-?”

“Get out. You’re scaring him.” Martin sounded stern and commanding. Was Jon scared of Tim? He was clinging to Martin’s sweater pretty tightly, shaking in his arms. But that’s not right, Tim should be scared of me.

Tim scoffed, rolling his eyes in the doorway. “Fine. Have it your way. You’ll regret it.”

Jon reluctantly pulled away, though he couldn’t bring himself to meet Martin’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine,” Martin replied warily, helping him to his feet with a hand around his waist as he maneuvered him gently onto the couch. “Well, it’s not fine, but I know you can’t help it.” Martin’s right. He can’t help it. All of this power and he’s still utterly helpless. Martin’s face suddenly grew panicked and a hand hovered at Jon’s neck.

“Your wound reopened again,” Martin cursed and Jon was made aware of the blood dripping lazily down his neck. “Let me grab-”

“N-No,” Jon yelped, almost unconsciously grabbing back at his sweater. The thought of Martin walking out filled him with sudden anxiety. He’s the only one who can stand you right now. Keep him happy, keep him calm. “It’ll stop eventually.” He tried for a reassuring tone, but clearly missed the mark as Martin let out a heaving, irritated sigh. Jon dropped his hand immediately in response.

“No, it’s not-” Martin struggled to find the words, his brow furrowed in annoyance and frustration. “You keep putting yourself in danger. Letting Elias put you in danger. Look at you!” He gestured angrily at Jon’s throat. “Your throat is literally torn open and I can’t- I can’t do anything!” He dropped down to the couch looking drained and haggard. Because of Jon. He wanted to comfort him, tell him not to worry and that it would be alright in the end. But he couldn’t, so he settled for honesty.

“It’s fine if it’s me,” he tried to soothe Martin like the man had done with him before, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It has to be me. I can take it.” A wobble was creeping into his voice even as he tried to tamp it down. “You heard them. I’m- I’m a monster-” Martin cut him off, grabbing the hand on his shoulder between his own and squeezing, his eyes bright and furious.

“No you’re not. Not to me.” The conviction in Martin’s words was almost convincing. “Promise me, Jon. Promise me you’ll try to stay safe. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for me. Please.” Jon couldn’t deny him a thing in that moment. So he promised.

Not a week later when Breekon and Hope have him by the arms and shove him into that van, he remembers his promise. He wants to tell Martin he tried and not to worry, he’ll be back soon. But he needs a little help.

If no one else, Martin will help.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27000466

#whumptober2020 #fic #no.3 #held at gunpoint #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #daisy tonner #tim stoker #jonmartin #jon/martin #my writing

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ragingbookdragon · 4 years

Text

The Batfamily Summer Pool Party

A/N: Actually, this was the first HC’s I ever did! Enjoy! -Thorne

ª Headcanon that at the start of summer, Bruce allows everyone to come over to the manor for a ‘Start of Summer Pool Party’.

ª Meaning, every Kryptonian, every Speedster, any and every alien on earth, the Teen Titans, the Titans, the Outlaws, and the Justice League.

ª The first time Bruce mentioned doing it, the boys thought he’d officially lost it.

ª The League did too.

ª But after the first official pool party, it became a regular thing that kicked off summer for everyone.

ª Bruce was wary about continuing it, but after seeing the unadulterated, ecstatic joy and laughter from his family, he’d realized it wasn’t so bad.

ª He always spends upwards to two-hundred grand, but it’s money well spent.

ª All the food, drinks, and games money can buy, he’s bought it.

ª There are always three giant tables that Bruce always must explain.

“Middle one has all the food, the one to it’s left is alcoholic drinks-Tim put the Seagram’s back, you’re seventeen-I don’t care if you’ve drank before. You know what isn’t fun? Sitting in a jail cell because I’ve been charged with supplying alcohol to minors. The one on the middle’s right is non-alcoholic-Tim get your Dr. Pepper and stop complaining.”

ª Jason’s been put in charge of the grill since he’s the best griller.

“Jason, need any help?”

“Nooooope.”

“Want any help?”

“Nooooope.”

“Want another beer?”

“Hell yeah.”

ª Each person there gets two songs to play.

ª The standing rule is: It must be PG-13 and can’t be the same song each time.

“I don’t care Dick, you can’t play Cardi B’s ‘Money’.”

“Oh, I can’t play ‘Money’, but Jason gets to play Nickelback’s ‘Rockstar’?”

“It literally has two cuss word in it compared to the twenty-five in ‘Money’.”

“Well can I play ‘Take a Chance on Me’?”

“No, you already played it.”

“Why do you guys hate ABBA so much?”

ª You know that famous internet picture where the group of guys tries to float an extension cord on flip-flops to run a laptop?

ª Tim tries to do that every time.

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to do.”

“Go put the extension cord back in the house Tim. We do this every year.”

“One day you’ll let me.”

“Not likely.”

ª Damian usually sits up on the deck watching and hating every second that ALL THESE PEOPLE are in his pool.

ª He eventually started to have fun once Jon came over.

“What are you two doing?”

“We’re seeing how high I can toss Damian into the air.”

“For what purpose?”

“Dunno…just sounded like a good idea at the beginning.”

“And Damian went along with it?”

ª Cue Damian screaming as he plummets back towards the water.

“…Not…exactly?”

*Sigh*

ª More than once, Bruce had to stop Dick from trying to jump from the balconies and windows.

“I don’t care if the balconies hang over the pool! You aren’t allowed to do it! If all your friends jumped off balconies, would you do it too? That was rhetorical and you know it Dick. What do you mean you used to do it when you were a kid?”

ª Bruce is constantly reprimanding the speedsters for running around the pool.

“Bart, I said no running!”

“Sorry Mr. Wayne!”

“Wally that means you too!”

“I wasn’t even running?!”

“I’m telling you before you start to.”

ª He’s constantly telling everyone to keep the water in the pool.

“Can we, I don’t know, keep the water inside the pool, not outside it?”

“What’s wrong with having fun Bruce?”

“Dick, when you pay the water bill, you can talk.”

“Touché.”

ª The biggest game of Marco Polo goes down.

ª The Atlanteans aren’t allowed to play anymore.

ª Superman eventually gets into the pool and Bruce’s ‘No throwing people rule’ goes down the drain.

“Clark, I said no throwing people.”

“Well, yeah, but look how happy they are.”

“Do you know that hitting the water from certain heights is exactly like hitting concrete?”

“You’re acting like I’m throwing them the height of the Empire State Building.”

“…Stop throwing my kids.”

ª More than once, Bruce has stopped Damian and Tim from trying to drown each other while the others egg them on.

“Tim let go of Damian’s arm!”

“Tell him to let go of my hair!”

“I’ll let go of your hair when you let go of my arm!”

“Twenty bucks on the demon-spawn!”

“Jason stop encouraging them!”

“I’ll up your twenty to a fifty and bet on Tim!”

“Conner. No!”

ª He’s also stopped Jason from burning steaks for people he doesn’t like.

“Jason quit burning Roy’s steak.”

“Well considering the fact that I’m in charge of the grill and not you old man, I’ll do whatever the hell I want.”

“Why are you even burning it? Aren’t you two best friends?”

“We were until I figured out, he was using my Netflix and Hulu accounts without asking me first.”

“Children. You’re both children.”

ª Bruce is absolutely one of those people who enforces the whole ‘no swimming after eating, you wait thirty minutes’.

ª It lasted until everyone just jumped back in.

ª Diana eventually joins Clark in throwing people up and back into the pool, and Bruce is starting to pull his hair out.

“Diana. I. Said. No. Throwing.”

“You did, but we are not listening.”

“Tell me about it.”

ª One time, Dick accidently drank too many alcoholic drinks (you know the ones that don’t taste like they have alcohol and then…it hits you) and face planted onto the deck.

ª No one’s let him live it down.

“Remember that time Dick got so drunk he fell on his face?”

“Ha-ha, shut-up.”

“It was rather funny Dick. At first, you thought the orange pool noodle was me and you kept flirting with it.”

“Thank you for reminding me Kori. Hey, how come we never talk about Jason’s drunk adventures?”

“Because I can hold my liquor lightweight.”

“That’s rude Little-wing.”

“You’ll live Golden-Boy.”

ª Alfred is sitting on a chair relaxing for once, completely undisturbed by what’s occurring around the pool.

ª He’s been giving the day off and he’s absolutely taking advantage of it.

ª Eventually, the sun begins to set and when night comes, everyone goes to the theater room for movies.

ª The pool party ended up turning into an overnight thing.

ª The Bat symbol turned on and immediately everyone turned to Bruce who just pointed at them and went ‘No.’

“Absolutely not.”

“C’mon Bruce, with all of us here, patrol will get done faster.”

“And let you teens and young adults have free reign of my city? I’d rather cut my own foot off.”

ª There’s silence as everyone stares him down until Jason stands up and yells,

“He can’t catch all of us! Run!”

ª Bruce and the JL spent the next six hours rounding up Teen Titans, Titans, and Outlaws.

ª Patrol did get done faster; he will give Dick credit for that one.

ª However, the phone call from Gordon and the mayor about the army of unannounced superheroes and the pure chaos as all the criminals fled in pure terror, was not one that he was overjoyed to get.

ª But the ‘Start of Summer Pool Party’ had another success, and Bruce was happy to do it again the next year.

“Hey Bruce, can we do the pool party in Bora-Bora next year?”

“There’s no way in hell I’m flying everyone to Bora-Bora.”

“That’s what you think.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

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dessarious · 4 years

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Old Scars and New Beginnings Pt27

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

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“Is Miss Marinette feeling better?” Alfred’s voice pulled Bruce out of his thoughts and he couldn’t help but wonder what better even meant in this case.

“She’s responsive and calm for the moment. I believe it was the loudness that set her off earlier. We’re going to need to keep track of everything that triggers her. I have a feeling it’s going to be an extremely long list.” Her parents had made her afraid of everything but helping people it seemed.

“I’ve already set up a shared document that everyone can read and add to. I’ve texted it to everyone’s phone. It has columns for both triggers and things that keep Miss Marinette calm.” Bruce pulled out his phone to find the link and found that the boys had already added their own notes.

“Penny and I can help with that if you give us access.” Jagged was frowning at an entry Dick made about reacting poorly to being touched by unknown males.

“Do you know why she has an issue being touched by men?” The man’s face hardened at Bruce’s question and he wasn’t certain he was going to get an answer.

“Her parents told you she slept around right?” Bruce just nodded. Jagged looked like he was on the verge of murder. “Before they stopped her business she got a call about a quote. They gave her an address to go to. When she got there…” He had to pause and take deep breaths. Bruce wasn’t even sure he wanted to hear where this was headed. “When she got there a man was waiting for her. She managed to subdue him before he could do more than give her a few bruises thank god, but ever since she’s been skittish around men she doesn’t know.”

“And why would that make her parents think she was sleeping around?” Alfred asked the question. Bruce was too furious to talk. He couldn’t even see straight at this point.

“When the police got there the guy said he’d just answered an online ad. Someone set it up with Mari’s name but there was no way for them to trace who actually posted it. Everyone just assumed she’d set it up and chickened out at the last moment, or was trying to get sympathy. There was a lot of bullshit going around at the time.” Bruce could only glare at the wall.

“Her parents actually believed that?” Alfred’s voice was deceptively calm but Bruce knew the man about three seconds from hopping a plane to Paris. Bruce didn’t want to waste the time but he could make a phone call…

“By then everything was already so messed up. I don’t know what they believed or said to her but she changed after that and not just with the way she acted around strangers. She wouldn’t go anywhere alone. She insisted on other people being present when she opened any type of correspondence. Text, e-mail, didn’t matter what it was. She wouldn’t look at it by herself. It’s like she felt she needed a witness for everything that happened in her life. I wish I could say she was wrong.”

“Any thoughts on who set her up?” Bruce eyed Alfred warily. If Jagged had a name that person very well might disappear in the next few days. As much as he didn’t advocate killing there were certainly times to look the other way.

“Plenty of thoughts but no proof. If I knew for sure I would have fed them to Fang a long time ago.” Bruce let out the breath he’d been unconsciously holding. The more he found out about Marinette the more certain he was that he’d done the right thing. There was no way even his kids could be worse than what she’d already had to deal with. He was dreading having to tell Selina about this though. If there were many more things like this in Marinette’s past he wouldn’t be able to stop her from burning Paris to the ground. He wasn’t even sure he’d try to stop her at this point.

“I’ll make sure Jason knows to tell Syd she needs to back off anyone who tries to crowd her.” Alfred looked amused and Jagged actually laughed.

“I thought you didn’t want that kid around Mari.” Bruce frowned at Jagged.

“That was before I knew she’d need a bodyguard. No one messes with that girl and if she’s with Marinette, she’ll get the same protection.”

“Master Bruce is quite right. Miss Sydney is very capable. For now though I have a surprise for Miss Marinette if you think she’s well enough for it.” Bruce raised an eyebrow at Jagged but the man just shrugged.

“What kind of surprise?” Bruce knew that Alfred wouldn’t do anything to intentionally upset the girl but at this point they didn’t know what even half of those things were.

“A good one.” Because that was helpful. In the end Bruce had to trust Alfred’s judgement. He just hoped he wouldn’t regret it later.

When they walked into the room he was shocked to hear Marinette giggling. Selina was recounting some story involving Dick and Tim but he couldn’t pay attention to it. As far as he knew this was the first time Marinette had relaxed enough to laugh. Now he really hoped Alfred’s surprise didn’t set her back. He froze in the doorway slightly afraid of what Selina would do to him if he startled the girl. Jagged had no such reservations.

“What’s so funny?” Marinette turned and immediately drew in on herself huddling closer to Penny. Any signs of laughter wiped away in an instant. He hazarded a look at Selina but she just looked concerned.

“I was just filling Marinette in on some of the insanity she agreed to be a part of.” That was the understatement of the century. Forget their other lives, all his kids were disasters anyway. For all she’d been though Marinette was probably the most normal, even if it turned out she was a superhero.

“Miss Marinette.” Alfred had stepped past him but Bruce simply stayed where he was. He knew he made the girl nervous, hell she still hadn’t called him anything besides Mr. Wayne yet. The furtive looks she shot at him didn’t go unnoticed by anyone. “I’d like to show you something.”

“Okay.” Her voice was soft. Anyone else would have asked what it was but she just accepted it. Maybe her parents had punished inquisitiveness as well. Just the thought made it necessary to calm himself down. Alfred took her hand and led her to a door opposite the bathroom and closet.

“This house was originally set up for occupants to have suites of rooms, generally two or three.” She’d tensed as they neared the door and Bruce thought Alfred was talking to try and calm her down. “Your room is connected to a second that was originally used as a sitting room. I decided to convert it for your use.” He opened the door and reached in to turn on the light. Bruce couldn’t see Marinette’s expression but he heard her surprised gasp.

The room was split into sections. Around the large window were a couple of cushioned chairs to take advantage of the view into the gardens. It would be a good place to draw, read, or just get lost in thought. Next was a section that was obviously meant for design. There was a work table with a sewing machine as well as shelves and drawers full of fabrics, threads, buttons, and who knows what else. Last was an area obviously meant for study. It held a desk, office supplies, her school books, a laptop, and finally a new cell phone. Even for Alfred it was impressive that he’d managed to set this up in one day.

“Well, what do you think?” The question came from Selina and Marinette turned just enough for Bruce to see tears in her eyes and a hurt expression on her face. She didn’t answer, but rather just kept shaking her head. Everything in him screamed ‘abort’ but he needed to understand her reaction.

“Marinette.” She looked at him and there was so much raw pain there. He was going to ask her what was wrong but it seemed like such an inadequate question. He also wasn’t sure she’d give him a straight answer. She’d looked hurt. Why would… the answer hit him fast and hard. He walked over and knelt down so he’d be at her eye level. “This room is here for you. Everything in it is yours. I know your parents wouldn’t let you design or use electronics, but those restrictions don’t apply here. Do you understand?”

The poor girl looked so confused. It was too much too fast. She’d been denied everything she loved from her passion to her friends to her parents affections. She couldn’t wrap her brain around the thought that she could have any let alone all of it back. He really should have pressed Alfred more about this surprise. He didn’t have the first clue on how to backtrack from this either.

“How about we start with one thing at a time okay?” He made his voice as gentle as possible and it seemed to help.

“Okay.” The response was just rote at this point but he’d take it. He stood and held out a hand which she hesitantly took. He led her over to the desk that was obviously meant for school. This would be the most familiar, the easiest to accept.

“These are all the things you need for school, though I’m sure Selina will be happy to take you to get some more personalized supplies if you want.” She shot him a scared look at the last part. Was she afraid of taking up Selina’s time, or frightened that the words were a trap? This was exhausting. She kept eyeing the phone and laptop like they were going to bite her. “You’ll need the computer for school, but you don’t have to only use it for that. If you want someone with you at first when you use it to make sure everything you’re doing is acceptable you can ask any of us, alright?”

“Okay.” She still seemed uncertain but the offer of a chaperone of sorts seemed to set her at ease. Maybe Jagged was right when he said she needed witnesses.

“This phone is for you as well.” He picked it up and put it in her hand. She actually started shaking. “All of our numbers are programmed in it as well as a few others Alfred thought you’d appreciate. The GPS is active so that we can find you just because Gotham is a dangerous city and if there’s an attack I like to be able to find everyone.” Again she relaxed slightly. Everything in her life had been monitored for so long she didn’t know how to react when someone wasn’t watching her. She began looking through the contacts and her face turned into a confused frown.

“Are Adrien and Chloe’s numbers in her so I don’t accidentally answer if they call?” The question was timid, like she thought she’d be punished for not understanding on her own. Because of that it took him a moment to process what she’d actually said.

“Why would you think that?” She hesitated and refused to look up. When she did answer it came out in a mumble as though she didn’t want to be heard.

“Because I’m not allowed to talk to them.” Bruce felt a headache forming. This situation was so surreal for him. He knew how to deal with kids who pushed boundaries and broke rules. He did not have any clue how to make a kid stop following rules that had been put in place by someone else. He gently put a hand under her chin and forced her to look up at him. The fear in her eyes made him physically hurt.

“You’re parents didn’t allow you to talk to them but your parents aren’t here and they no longer have a say in your actions. Their numbers, along with Jagged and Penny’s are in your phone so that you can talk to them. Whenever you want.” Her expression went completely blank. Shit, he broke her.

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#maribat #marinette dupen chang #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #selina kyle #jagged stone #penny rolling

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cdelphiki · 4 years

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Any tips for writing dialogue. One of my biggest struggles is writing dialogue that's sounds like a real/natural conversation. My main strategy is writing down any interesting/funny pieces of dialogue that I hear down, as a sort of reference, which usually looks something like this: (Jared) "Wonder when dinner'll be ready." (Joey) "Don't bother asking, last time I went in there she swatted me on the butt with a wooden spoon." The problem with this method is that it takes literally forever.

It sounds to me like you’re finding dialogue you like, and then either trying to force it into a story you’re writing, or maybe then writing a story around it. I can see how that could be incredibly frustrating.

There’s nothing wrong with writing a story around a piece of dialogue you like, but don’t expect the entire story to be written by your friends and family around you with the silly things they say. Unless your story is word for word what you or they are doing, it’s just not going to work out.

If you’re waiting to hear dialogue you like, and are then trying to ram it into a story you have in your head, I’m afraid that just isn’t going to work. It’s going at the whole writing process backward, so either you need to take that dialogue and write a story around it, or come up with new dialogue for the story you already have.

So I, for the most part, plan out my stories in this order: basic plot / question / what if. So, I’ll ask “What if Bruce accidentally kidnapped Jason after rescuing him from a kidnapper” and then I explore the plot from there. Or “Tim and Damian get stranded in an alternate universe with no easy way home.” Once I know the basic happenings of the story, I then try to think up what has to happen to get me to the end point.

For Precedent, my end point was ‘happily ever after,’ basically. So I made a list of the things each character needed to do or realize to get there. One of my favorite little check marks I made was “Jason has to accept a hug, return a hug, and initiate a hug.” And then I basically created scenes around all these little check marks I needed.

Then I wrote dialogue.

And the way I write dialogue is I basically just imagine the scene and let the characters talk. I know that sounds like a horrible piece of advice, but I assume since you’re a writer you do a lot of daydreaming. I basically just daydream up all the scenes. I’ve been working on a scene all day today for Reclaiming Innocence, which has just been me spending 10 minutes here or there re-daydreaming it, as I pick out pieces of dialogue each character says that I like and jotting them down, and reworking it until I’m happy with everything. If you can imagine the characters actually saying everything, most likely your dialogue is natural. You have conversations with people everyday, you probably know natural conversation when you see it. And if you don’t or aren’t sure, ask a beta to read over it! I know I ask my beta all the time to make sure the flow is right.

The final thing I do is write all the ‘he saids’ and ‘she walked across the room’ and thoughts and exposition and everything, after I have all the dialogue for the chapter/story completely done. But that’s just my process, you don’t have to follow that order perfectly.

So, my main piece of advice is, don’t go at it by finding dialogue in your everyday conversations and then trying to jam it into stories. Those little pieces might come in handy every once in a while, because I do have a document with little silly jokes and random thoughts/comments on inane things that my characters can use to jump into a real, plot-furthering conversation, but if the only dialogue you use is what you hear in real life, you just won’t be able to write a full fiction story around it.

Instead, figure out what your characters need to talk about, and then just daydream the scene over and over until you feel it’s good. (Don’t forget to write down what they’re saying!! You’ll forget otherwise.)

I hope that helps at least a little. Good luck!

#writing process #writing advice

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ethelphantom · 4 years

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and once the truth’s revealed

Heya! It’s Daminette December and Ethel’s back at it again with trying (and probably failing) her hand at doing month long challenges. Oh well. I will be doing some of the prompts as art and some of them I’m just going to skip, but let’s see. Here’s day 1, “Just a friend”. You can find all of my prompt fills under #Daminette December on my blog, so yeah.

On Ao3

This fic is MariBat, so if you don’t like it, do not read it.

_____

“But Marinette, just the way you look at him—”

“But what? Luka, I love you and you’re my best friend and all but you’re gravely mistaken here”, Marinette said, interrupting her friend. She sighed and crossed her arms on her chest, frustrated out of her mind at Luka.

Why would he say she liked Damian? He was a good friend and Marinette loved spending time with him, but she didn’t think of him as more than that, surely. It wasn't like she wanted to know what it would be like to walk hand in hand whenever they were out on town without it being an awkward ordeal, or what his lips tasted like or felt like against her own, or what it would be like to show him off to her parents and then proceed get embarrassed by both of them because especially her papa always asked weird questions from anyone he thought might start dating her.

“Look, Mari, I know you don’t want to admit to your feelings after how it went with Adrien, and after finding out I liked you and you had to reject me, but he could make you really happy. All I want is your happiness, and if you find it with him, I support you. Besides, I accepted you don’t like me ages ago, you don’t need to be so careful about it. It’s fine”, Luka said sighing and put his hand on Marinette’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Seriously, ask anyone and they’ll tell you that you look at Damian like he hung the stars and the moon. Even Kagami has seen it, and you know how she is with this. Chloé kept complaining about you being so oblivious for like an hour to us without taking a single breath, I swear.”

Marinette shook her head. No, she really did not like him, she was sure. Damian was amazing and always took her feelings into account, even if he didn’t always express it very well. And unlike her classmates, he actually defended her and stayed on her side even after Lila tried to interfere with things. No — he had, three seconds flat after Lila tried to get him wrapped in her web of lies as well, shot her down, told her to leave him and Marinette alone, said he couldn't have cared less about her obvious lies and then led her away to talk somewhere more quiet.

The only one in the class that she knew was on her side was Chloé, and since even that was a rather recent development, she wasn’t sure what to think of it always.

(She did scoff at Lie-la, Alya and the rest of the class the week before and told them to pull their heads out from where the sun doesn’t shine so there was that joy, Marinette had to admit. If someone had told her a few years back she’d actually be friends with Chloé fucking Bourgeouis, or that she would have appreciated her in any sense without being sarcastic, she would have laughed at their face. Now she was actually happy about it and wouldn’t change it for the world.)

And sure, she loved hearing Damian laugh. It was rare, it was really, really rare, but even so it happened sometimes, and she loved it. It wasn’t even the “You’re an imbecile and I’m superior to you” kind of laughter he apparently had according to Jason, but the “I’m laughing because I genuinely enjoy being with you and that was funny” kind of laughter.

“No, it’s not like that”, she then said, only to earn a frustrated groan from Luka who ran a hand down his face.

“Mari I swear—”, Luka began before he buried his head in his hands. “Okay, let’s put it this way. By what nickname does he call you again?”

“...Angel.”

“Now, how does it make you feel like?”

“Happy and warm. It’s nice when he does it.”

“Alright. Then, if I were to call you that regularly, how would you feel about it?”

“It would be kind of weird since you never do it but I wouldn’t tell you to stop.”

“And how about Tim? You two are close friends, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, we are. I think he’s done it a few times, too. He did it when we met for the first time anyway.”

“So, how was it? Was it the same as with Damian?”

“Well, it was nice, I suppose, but no, it wasn’t… Why?”

“Damian called you that when you met for the first time, right?”

“Yeah? Then he stopped until he did it again after we’d known each other for some time and Jason tried to steal the nickname.”

“So, did it feel the same as it did when you met Tim — or Jason, apparently, why wasn’t I aware of this — for the first time?”

“No, but like— Luka, stop that. Seriously, you questioning me about nicknames they have for me won’t get you anything. He’s just a friend!”

Luka stopped where he was massaging his forehead and, lowering his hand enough for her to see his eyes, he raised his eyebrow. “Did you— Did you just say Damian is just a friend? Did I get that right? Please tell me I didn’t hear that right.”

The doubtful, disbelieving look in Luka’s eyes made Marinette want to back away slowly and then flee. It was concerning since Luka wasn’t like this often. Only when one of their friend group was being more dense and stupid than usually. “Yes…?”

“Marinette Jiaying Dupain-Cheng I swear—”

“Not my second name.”

“I’ll use whatever I want as your second name when I need to young lady— Marinette Jiaying Dupain-Cheng I swear to god if you say that god forbidden sentence one more time, I’m going to hand you over to Chloé and Kagami without hesitation.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“Fucking test me.”

“Gasp I’m going to tell Dick you swore in front of me.”

Luka sighed and shook his head before looking Marinette in the eyes again. “Mari, you know how Adrien finally got a clue and figured out he did, in fact, have a crush on you after you’d already decided you no longer liked him?”

Marinette looked at Luka with confusion. What was he talking about, she really didn’t understand. “Uhh… yes?”

“Well, the reason he never realised it in time was because he kept telling himself you were just a friend.”

He was right, that’s what she remembered hearing from Adrien a few too many times, but this wasn’t the same thing at all. She’d gone out of her way for him so many times, tried to make him happy by sacrificing her own happiness, listened to him every time he wanted to tell her something, supported him with everything, and he still hadn’t realised she liked him — or that at some point, he started liking her. It wasn’t nearly the same thing with her and Damian… right?

Except that it kind of was.

Now that she thought about it, it was exactly what Damian was doing. He went out of his way for her when she asked for help, sometimes even when she didn’t ask for it and rather told him not to do it because she felt like she didn’t deserve it. She had just thought it was a trait born from being the son of the richest man on earth, nothing more. She felt kind of like a jerk for thinking that now. No better than Adrien and his endless obliviousness, at least.

He supported her and her dreams and even tried to help her find ways to achieve said dreams. He listened to her endless ramblings until it got too late and he either had to leave or he told her to go to sleep. It was another thing if she actually went to sleep after it, but Marinette appreciated the concern anyway.

Oh.

What was happening now was definitely a lot like it was back then, though she wasn’t sure if he liked her that way. The possibility he didn’t was a little painful and she felt a stab in her heart. Besides, what kind of a friend actually thought about and wanted to know how it would be like to kiss another friend if they were nothing more than that?

“Oh.”

Luka shook his head and smiled at her as she proceeded to lose her mind over it. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“But Luka, what do I do now? What if I lose my ability to talk in front of him? Or what if I ruin our friendship? Or—”

“Mari, calm down. You’re gonna be fine. He’s still the same Damian. Maybe you could just tell him how you feel, and then when he knows, you’ll either start dating and he’ll make you happy, or he’ll reject you, you’ll stay friends and you can start moving on. He won't hate you for liking him, nor would he be so shallow that he ended your friendship over it. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Marinette bit her lip before returning the smile. “Thank you, Luka. You’re amazing, I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”

With one swift pull, Luka had her in a tight hug. He squeezed her and replied with an amused snicker, “I try my best.”

#daminette #Daminette december #damian x marinette #maridami #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #Damian Wayne #luka couffaine #miraculous ladybug #ml #ml x dc #dc #fanfic #fanfiction #ethel's writing

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chronicbatfictioner · 4 years

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Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 11

Details, details, details. For someone looking like a pro-wrestler, complete with the dress-up gimmick, Jason Todd - the Red Ghost - turned out to be a very good listener and paid attention to details. He listened quietly as Oracle put out the proverbial lay of the land.

"So to make it clear and recorded redundantly, Talon was an enforcer with the Court of Owls; supposedly the entity that controlled all of Gotham, consisting of the 'builders' of Gotham as well as the 'money' that built Gotham. This guy Bane just out of the blue came to Gotham and killed the members of the Court and Talon's teammates. And now he claimed to be Dr Thomas Wayne's son, and therefore Bruce Wayne's half-brother." Jason recited. "Are the Waynes a member of the Court of Owls?"

"Not according to the database Talon gave us." Oracle replied. "Evidently, the Court had... harassed them to join, but they have repeatedly refused. And by 'repeatedly' I mean over like, three generations of Waynes."

"Yeah, I didn't think so, either. Talia wouldn't have... well, associated herself with Bruce Wayne, otherwise." Jason agreed. "Ra's didn't like to share control with a random group of people who have assassins as doormen. The public disruptions would have been too overwhelming."

"So the Waynes have made an actual tangible alliance with the Al Ghuls, I presume..." Tim commented. "Corporate-wise, the Al Ghuls owned almost half of Gotham, while the other half belonged to the Waynes. Yet they were in different lines of businesses that if the two families were to unite by means of - say, marriage - it would definitely fit the description of a monopoly."

"You're a corporate goon, aren't you?" Jason remarked. Tim preened a little.

"Kind of. I run a much-smaller family business." he admitted.

"I'm... not sure if I should consider it cool or horrific." Jason commented. "What's the business line?"

"Generic meds." Tim replied, and then stopped himself. There were a mere handful of generic medication companies in Gotham, and he might have given away his own identity.

"Ah, cool, then. Generic meds for poor people? Did you leech off the prices?" Still, Jason's disarming smirk and seemingly innocent questions were too inviting to not be answered.

"Of course not! I'm a hero, aren't I?" Tim replied coyly. Jason seemed satisfied with the answer.

"Cool, then. Anyway, to answer your question, yes, there were business deals between the Al Ghuls with the Waynes that are limited to the form of businesses either parties would do. And yes, you're right. If or when Bruce Wayne passed without any other heirs, Damian would own both conglomerations and would have been a form of monopoly. There were... contingency plans to avoid that." Jason elaborated. "But if Bane is a son of Thomas Wayne, he would have inherited half of the Wayne Enterprises, regardless."

"I sincerely hoped that Bane was not Ra's 'contingency plan'," Oracle intoned.

"I've never heard of his name until now." Jason clarified. "And I know all of Ra's associates and agents. Visible or otherwise. And Talia's. But for the issue with the Court... you people think that the Waynes bankrolled Bane to eliminate the Court of Owls."

"We suspect. We haven't found evidence to support or deny it." Oracle said. "You're quick."

"I'm not slow just because I came from Crime Alley, thanks." Jason retorted. "And I'm starting to realize... if I - on behalf of Damian - am staying at the Wayne Manor, I might be able to look for evidence thereof."

"Really quick, I wasn't even going to suggest that yet," Oracle replied glibly.

"And if they were innocent - because of course, we all believe in the 'Innocent 'til Proven Guilty' adage - then you can ally with the Waynes to indict and/or remove Bane out of the equation." Jason continued.

Well, Tim was impressed.

"That's it, in a nutshell."

"I hope you have a contingency plan in case your plan goes sideways..." Jason sighed.

"...you technically have nothing to lose," Tim assured him. "You'll have an escape, where you can bring Damian to a place that is both reinforced and semi-publicly visible; you'll have the Birds of Prey as your backup. And if - in a scenario where Bruce Wayne did not accept Damian, you'll still be welcomed here."

"Why? Just because I'm a Gothamite or what?" Jason challenged.

"Because..." Tim sighed. "Okay, look. I see it more as for Damian's sake, right? If he's accepted, and you don't want to help us, that's fine. We'll figure out something else. But if he's... denied his father..." he shook his head, pushing out the images of himself as a 12-year-old who'd just received the news of his parents' death. "...I know what it's like to lose a parent through violent means, alright. I don't... I'd rather Damian not take the path I took."

Jason's smile looked more like a snarl. "Now that's noble, Stray. You don't want Damian to be a thief like you, but you forgot who you're talking to. I grew up here, in Crime Alley, until my mom died. My dad was gone years before. I lived on the streets, had a box for a bed for weeks. That's the kind of life you won't want a ten-year-old to have to face."

Tim chuckled uneasily. "Okay, that's fair. But considering he's the only heir of the Algol Enterprises, I doubt he'll end up on the streets, am I wrong? Not to be insensitive, but there's a reason why Talia chose you to take care of him, and that wouldn't be the muscles or the pretty face."

That was a logical explanation, so Tim thought, but he could swear that Jason was blushing - even under the tanned skin. He shook his head lightly, and said, "No, I'm also his legal guardian unless his biological father files for custody; and am in charge of the Algol Enterprises," He scowled lightly. "...in spite of the fact that I don't like the corporate world in general. Damian is actually more than smart enough to supervise the companies, but he is still a minor. His signatures should always be accompanied by mine."

"Good system," Oracle commented. "I don't see you as someone easily persuaded if you don't believe in the matter."

"I believe in fairness and assisting those in need, not feeding those in power," Jason muttered. Then sighed. "For now, though, I'll need your help to fend off the League of Shadows. There won't be any steps taken toward your goal if Damian is assassinated."

"That, I believe, I can help. It's not gonna be pretty, but..." Dick remarked, stepping out of the bedrooms. "Boy's sleeping like a log. I mean, literally like a log: on his back, straight-backed and all." He added when Jason's eyes found his.

"You know how to contact your... uh... friends?" Tim tried, cringing, knowing how Barbara felt for violence.

"You thinking about rising the other talons?" Barbara must be cringing, too.

"Unless you can think of utilizing Superman or something, I don't see any other way..." Dick argued.

"Wait," an epiphany suddenly hit Tim. "I... hold up, let me think..." he raised a hand, stopping the questions he knew would be coming out of both Jason and Dick's mouths. A half a minute later, it hit him in the full picture. "Wasn't Green Arrow trained by the League of Assassins, too?"

"Oliver Queen, you mean. Yes, he was." Jason confirmed. "Funny dude, all sass and pretending to be no-brain. Shiva trained him--" Jason suddenly stopped.

"Does he know you?" Tim asked.

"He should... he got in just about a while after I did. I'd trained with him before Talia sent me training elsewhere..." Jason replied, and then his face brightened. "You scary-scheming little shit..."

"Green Arrow opted to use his skills as a hero, protecting those who can't protect himself. I know he's good - a little unfocused in a hand-to-hand and more reliant on his bow and arrows, but he's good." Tim pointed out. "And he has his own group of 'family' - all fighters for good. I'm sure he'll be happy to help us." he hinted to Oracle, deliberately pointing to Oracle as the decision-maker of the 'group'. With the way Dick was glaring at him, Tim knew that he was following Tim's hints - and not mentioning that Tim could have asked aunt Dinah for Oliver Queen's help. Dinah has been dating him for a good long while, after all.

"I'll put out feelers," Barbara stated. "Jason, do you have inklings or list on who we might want to chase after? You mentioned they're covert, and about half of the identity of people rounded up by the GCPD earlier were locals."

Jason shrugged helplessly. "They don't usually trust digital stuff for this... membership thingy. Not especially for foot soldiers."

"I think I can figure out how to sift them out..." Tim commented, ideas after ideas churning through his mind. "Want me to come over and powwow, O?"

"Yes, sure. That'll be great." Oracle replied, even with the metallic voice modulator, Tim could sense the relief.

"Okay, you wanna come with?" he asked Dick.

Dick shook his head. "Not that I'm guarding you or anything, 'cause I'm sure you can figure out how to get out without me noticing, anyway. But I'm... I'd prefer if the boy wakes up, he'll still see me, you know? So he's convinced that he's not... being abandoned or anything."

"That's sweet, but I agree. Do you mind, Jason?"

"Having another body to stand guard? Not at all. I'll need to shut my eyes for a few, anyway." Jason replied with a small smirk. "Would've been nice to shut-eye with a warm body next to me, but hey, beggars can't be choosers," he added blithely just as Tim got up and walked away.

Tim paused, turned, and blew him a kiss. Because that's what mama Selina said you should do when someone openly flirted with you if you also want to flirt with said someone. Jason's smirk just got bigger but didn't give any more reaction.

Tim continued his exit, his mind partially mapping out his plan to clean out the League of Assassins from Gotham; the other part mapping out his plan on to figure out if Jason was as compatible as he suspected.

#Batless!AU #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #JayTim #stray!tim #RedGhost!Jason #Dick Grayson #Talon!Dick #Damian Wayne #Barbara Gordon #Oracle!Barbara #Birds of Prey #BatFam

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indestinatus · 4 years

Text

Something Blue (part 4/15)

Please read it in AO3, this fic has soundtracks.

Summary: Now that Ziva is safe and can return to her family… Tony doesn’t waste any time. She’ll need to have something blue to go along with a white wedding gown.

“Have we died and reached paradise or am I dreaming?” asked Nick looking up to the clear blue sky.

The team stood assembled at the bridge that connected the sea to the island, every single one of them laughing after dancing non-stop to the songs from the boat. Their tongues tasted of bubbly champagne and citric fruit, the wind playing with their hair and the hats that scaped occasionally from their heads. The early afternoon sun was reflected on the slow waves of the pier, seagulls a constant subject of the light blue sky, following the passengers from the boat to the coconut trees. White painted every surface, from the large circular domes to the infinite steep stairs of restaurants and balconies, mixed between wide, ancient stone walls separating the many houses.

Bright yellow flowers colored the wooden stakes of the bridge, intertwined with olive branches and other herbs. At the end of it, a small wooden sign was placed on the sand, an arrow pointing northeast to one side of the beach, next to a message in elegant handwriting.

Welcome to our beginning. Please, have lots of fun. - love, T and Z.

Little bare feet came running towards the group, raising sand on its way as the summer air filled with giggles.

She clung to Gibbs’ leg and looked up, a few strands of hair coming loose from her braid which was swinging in the wind. She wore a little white dress with a floral pattern. A big gap-toothed smile framed her face as he raised her to his arms, receiving a sweet kiss on the cheek on return.

“Hey, Tali,” he said softly as the other members of the team greeted her as well, making her shy for a moment when she hid her face on the crook of his neck, “where’s your father?”

“On your six, boss,” a familiar voice greeted them.

Gibbs had never seen Tony look so happy. He was tanned, small freckles painting his cheekbones and a wide grin displayed on his lips. Like his daughter, he was also barefoot, a Hawaiian shirt complimenting his look along with black sunglasses which he put on his front pocket.

“Finally you’ve arrived, I was starting to doubt if my specialist on weddings would come to support my own,” he added with a smile, squeezing Gibbs’ shoulder, “I promise it’ll only be one though, I don’t have your kind of vigor, boss.”

He received a head slap in return.

“Nothing changed, uh?”

“It never will, DiNozzo.”

Gibbs put Tali down for a moment to give a proper hug on his former agent, patting his back firmly.

“You’ve done well, son,” he whispered in his ear.

“Don’t you dare me make emotional right now, I have a feeling my eyes will sweat a lot during the weekend,” Tony replied with a smile.

They let go and Tony surveyed the team, clasping his hands together.

“Now to presentations,” he continued, “my fondest, warmest, kindest welcomes, everyone, it is a pleasure to have you here. I see old faces and new faces,” he glanced at Torres and Kasie and smiled, “and me and Tali here are glad that you came all the way from DC to witness this miracle. And where is the Rapunzel of the story? Well, funny you should ask, she’s currently going mad about the color of the table cloths and if we should put lights on or off in a wedding set at sundown. Who knew crazy Israeli ninja was so fond of this kind of stuff?”

“We all knew, Tony,” said Palmer.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s why I’m marrying her,” he replied with a warm smirk, “so… she told me she’d meet you up the hill, where you’ll be staying, with lots of food and drinks as an apology. Go easy on her, she still has a wedding to attend tomorrow and I’m quite scared she’ll go entirely Daenerys before it happens. Then I’ll have to marry McGroom and fulfill his lifetime secret dream.”

“Oh, give me a break, will you,” McGee huffed a laugh, his lips turning upwards instantly.

“You’ll never have a break from me, McDad. Never. I will hunt you when we both become ghosts, chasing you around the cemetery as I scream McBoooo,” he lifted Tali in the air, tickling her sides before putting her back down on the ground.

“How long have you been holding this joke?”

“Well, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you, Probie, now that you’re a dad of these little monsters, you’ve been quite busy, uh?” he winked to Delilah, “two of them running around the house-”

“Just you wait,” McGee replied with a grin.

“How indiscreet, McGoo, what are you-”

Abby coughed loudly, gesturing to the wooden sign with wide eyes.

“Oh, let’s get out of the sun immediately,” said Tony gratefully, “Ziva made a whole schedule we have to follow and, to be fair, it’s quite good. She should think about working with that instead of being a trained assassin.”

“Ladies, with me!” exclaimed Abby, a hand raised in the air, “I’ll be your greek tour guide for the weekend! Yaaay! We’ll go up the hill by van so we can appreciate our surroundings,” she winked to Delilah, who nodded thankfully from her wheelchair, “I’ll be the best guide there is, you’re lucky you didn’t end up with Tony.”

“Hey!” Tony complained with a smile, “no one knows how to have fun better than I do. Okay, guys and little monsters, with me! Apparently, Tali has everything already under control.”

“Mermaids!” was all Tali said, running towards Victoria next to Jimmy.

The group dispersed, going to different directions. Tony approached Ellie, who was standing next to the one of the faces he didn’t know. The guy wore a white tank top and a Panama hat, his arms sculped and a knowing smile on his lips.

“You must be the wuss,” said Tony holding his hand out.

“News fly,” Nick faltered for a moment and glanced at Ellie, cheeks a bit red.

“Wuss…?” she asked confused.

“Ziva told me you let her win a fight,” Tony intercepted with a knowing look at Bishop, “I’m impressed, rumors are she killed Houdini.”

“Houdini? As in the magician?” asked Ellie.

“She doesn’t recall all the names, she said,” answered Tony with a smile, twinkling eyes directed to Torres, “if you excuse us gentlemen, agent Bishop,” he kissed her hand, “we got to get to some donkeys.”

“DONKEYS?” asked Nick startled, a laugh escaping his lips.

“A big greek wedding, my friend, donkeys are a must.”

Tony wrapped an arm around the man’s shoulders, directing him towards the right path.

“Just so you know,” he muttered in a tone only Nick could hear, “I made my own personal mission to make you tell her how you feel by the end of this weekend.”

Nick glanced to Tony, who was casting him a mischievous smile.

“Then where’s the alcohol, bro?”

“I like you already.”

°°°

“One… two… three!” Tali placed her little legs on top of Tony’s shoulders, his hands firmly gripping her ankles from below, “push the button,” he said as he held his index finger high for Tali.

She pushed it slightly with her finger, just as her father yelled “HERE WE GO!” and started to swing his body from side to side. A moment later, a loud splash could be heard across the waves, the white seafoam coloring the crystal blue water. Tony emerged with Tali wrapped around his torso, happy giggles echoing all around on a sunny afternoon.

“Uncle Tim, Uncle Tim!” exclaimed Victoria, wearing bright pink arm floats and a little floral cap, as she pointed at something underwater, “there, I can see it!”

“Where?” he looked at the place she was showing, Morgan in his arms with wet pigtails, “oh, I see it. You’ve found a big one, good job!”

He let his daughter float at the slow waves as he dived down to grab something at the bottom of the ocean.

“Ooooh,” said Victoria out loud, hands on her cheeks, “can I touch it?”

“Yes, just do it slowly, it’s a little gooey,” said McGee as he held the shining orange starfish at the girls’ direction.

Vitoria’s little finger touched it softly, but she backed away as soon as she got to know its texture.

“No, no, I don’t wanna touch it,” said Morgan as she gripped her father’s arm hard.

“It’s okay, Morgan, let’s just put it back where it belongs then, uh?”

He dived again to put the starfish at the sand bottom and surfaced a moment later, Victoria already swimming to another location to search for a new sea creature.

“First you turn your hands into a vessel, like this,” Jimmy laid one hand atop of each other, “close it tight, like you’re gonna catch water, and then blow steady between your knuckles, like this.”

A loud high pitch whistle reverberated across the rocks they were sitting when Jimmy blew inside his hand, similar to the sound of a clear flute.

“Whoah, do it again!” exclaimed Johnny, trying to mimic his hands.

“Just like the Cherokee Indians,” Jimmy repeated the whistle, now changing the notes and creating a soft melodic pattern.

The coconut trees swayed with the wind, the rays of sunshine kissing their skin and marking their cheeks with soft freckles as it descended on the horizon. Minutes stretched into hours, and time turned fake in the children’s hands. It seemed infinite. The afternoon could go on forever.

It was paradise.

A loud whistle blew from the sand, revealing Senior calling the group with an energetic wave. He walked towards Gibbs, who was sitting in the shade carving up something out of a piece of wood.

“Can’t they stay like this forever?” asked Senior, a sad note in his voice.

“No,” Gibbs replied, looking to the horizon, eyes hard and sad, “no, they cannot.”

The children came running towards the plates of strawberries and pineapple, screaming with delight and raising clouds of sand in their wake. They threw themselves on the colorful pillows scattered on the sand floor, wet bodies splashing drops of seawater all around them. Their fathers came close behind, Tony shaking his body like a wet dog making everybody laugh.

“Palmer, can I talk to you for a sec?” he asked softly, after drying Tali’s wet hair with a towel.

“Yeah, of course,” Jimmy passed the coconut to McGee and got up, going with Tony towards the sea again.

Once their feet touched the waves, Tony turned to him, arms crossed and face furrowed in concern.

“Did you have the chance to bring it? I know I shouldn’t ask you that, it’s just, I think she would-”

Jimmy opened up a smile.

“What are you talking about? Of course I did, they don’t call me a man of honor for nothing,” he replied, squeezing Tony’s shoulders slightly, “don’t worry, my friend, everything’s gonna be fine. Great, even, you’ll see.”

“I’m not worried.”

Tony raised his clear eyes to Palmer, but the harsh laugh that escaped his lips revealed otherwise. The men laughed together, patting each other in the back and walking towards the children.

“Have you ever been closer to paradise than this place?” asked Torres, sitting on the slackline he had just proudly crossed, with sunkissed skin and eyes facing where the sky met the sea.

“Did you know the definition of ‘paradise’ ultimately comes from an Iranian word that the Greeks modified into paradeisos, meaning ‘enclosed park’,” answered Ducky, a bottle of cold water in his hand, “in Hellenistic Greek, “paradeisos” was also used in the Septuagint - an early Greek translation of Jewish scriptures - in reference to the Garden of Eden. So we are staying where the word came from.“

"I’m gonna take that as a no,” Nick replied laughing.

“I’ve arrived a little bit later than I’ve expected and I didn’t have the chance to see young Eleanor,” Ducky sent an amused look to Torres, “is she well?”

“You too, Ducky? Can’t no one give me a break?”

“Oh, I’m only asking, Nicholas, you seemed rather close,” but Ducky’s eyes were not so clueless.

“I’m sorry, yeah, yeah, she’s great,” Nick replied shrugging.

Ducky let out a charming laugh, looking up to the clear sky, “I think this is the worst-case scenario for someone to give you a break, Nick. We are at the wedding of another office couple, after all.”

“Another…?”

Nick pointed his index finger to Ducky and then put it on his lips, asking for silence, “please don’t go spreading out this idea to the others, Doctor Mallard.”

He stood up and with a surfboard under his arm, Nick raced towards the ocean. The wind was perfect for surfing at the calm waves.

Ducky reclined himself on his sun lounger, taking a sip of his cold water, “oh, I think they already know, kid,” he laughed to the sky.

°°°

“To your left. No, your other left. Yeah, up a little bit. A little bit more-”

A loud crash sounded when the glass jar shattered at the tiles, flowers and candles scattering everywhere. Ziva cursed in a foreign language, already bending down to the clean the mess on the floor.

“I’m sorry, Ziv,” said a younger cousin of her, who came along with her family from Tel Aviv to eat and dance for free, as well as try to help her with the numerous decorations. She was hanging the lights up in the olive trees, but there were so many of them to coordinate with the flowers and pieces of cloth, even Ziva was a bit confused with where to put them.

“It’s okay, Sorsha, I’ll handle it later,” she replied with a smile to the young girl standing up at the ladder, a guilty expression on her face.

“We still have to set the tables and wrap the gifts and talk to the band,” proceeded Ziva exasperated, sighing tiredly with the back of her hand rubbing her forehead.

“And test the lights,” added Sorsha, who now ticked things out of a small paper list, “and see if the cake turned out okay.”

“That Odette is taking care of, you can cross it out.”

“And welcome the guests.”

Ziva stopped where she stood and turned around as soon as she recognized that voice.

“Breena,” Ziva opened a wide grin to her old friend, who came running to hug her tightly, “I’m so glad you’re all here!”

Ziva greeted every one of them with a kiss on the cheek, bending down to talk to Delilah.

“You must be the one who finally stole Tim’s lion heart,” she said with a knowing glance.

“I know, I’m still shocked from time to time,” Delilah replied with a smile.

Ziva gave her a thankful nod, and no words were needed.

“Okay. Food. You must be starving,” she came back to her worried self, tying her hair into a knot, “I just need to check a few things.”

“Hey, are you okay?” asked Jack, her professional voice taking over, “Ziva, I think you need to relax for a bit. You’re the bride, remember? How can we help?”

“Take her out of here,” declared Odette, who was guiding two people with a large flower vase nearby, hands on her hips and a meaningful smile at Ellie, “or I will myself prohibit her getting any closer.”

“I’m- I’m sorry. I think I bit more than I can screw,” said Ziva, trying to recompose herself.

“What…?” asked Kasie, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“We called it Zivaisms,” answered Abby, grabbing Ziva’s arm and leading her towards the accommodations, not caring about any response, “when Tony is not around to correct her, we just ignore the weird and move on.”

“I tend to do a lot of ignoring the weird and moving on down at that lab,” remarked Kasie.

Abby looked at her with a wide grin, then started to jump up and down, not being able to contain her excitement. She let go of Ziva to run towards Kasie and hug her tightly, while the bride just burst out laughing with the scene, finally letting herself relax.

“We have so much to talk about,” said Abby, arm wrapped around Kasie’s shoulders, “what kind of music you play there now?”

“Uh-”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m so excited there’s finally someone who understands. YAAAY!”

They walked together until they arrived at the lodgings, stationed just above the sea, the white stone balconies disappearing among the many similar others along the coast. The air smelled of sea salt, dried herbs, and the feeling of freedom of a new vacation about to start. Ziva entered the bridal room, making everyone cheer when she showed the sign of “Future Mrs.” placed at her door. A smooth wooden table filled with plates of fruit, various types of seeds and pastries greeted them, along with bottles of cold champagne and rosé wine. Across the hall, a white bed was stationed in front of a large floor to ceiling open window, the big beige curtains flying with the ocean wind.

The view was magnificent.

It was close to the sea so it was possible to discern the silhouettes of the villagers, but far enough to have some privacy. The sound of the waves could be heard all over the room as they hit the cliffs, the constant splashing a calming tune. A small dressing table was placed near the windows, seashells covering the whole surface around the mirror.

Only three objects were set on top of it.

A photograph of Rivka and Eli David, arms wrapped around each other when they were incredibly young, the Jordan mountaintops behind them. Its frame was made of pearls.

A photograph of Ziva holding her sister Tali’s hand, her brother Ari at her other side, all laughing, their bicycles laid on the ground. Its frame was made of buttons.

And a photograph of a man pointing to the camera, his eyes looking towards a little girl whose face was dirty with the chocolate ice cream she held in her hands. Tali was smiling, her baby teeth appearing through her mouth in a wide grin, dark brown eyes twinkling. Tony was also beaming, as if it was the first time he made her truly laugh.

That one she didn’t frame on purpose, the paper almost damaged with time and constant folding to pocket size. It was the most precious to her.

“Whoah, that’s a hell of a view,” said Kasie, eyebrows raised and mouth opened in an oval shape.

“Perfect, wouldn’t you say?” Abby replied, sending Ziva a naughty grin and wiggling her brows.

“Abby,” Ziva huffed a nervous laugh, her cheeks reddening in a rare moment, “this isn’t where we are going to stay for the honeymoon.”

“Why not?! It’s the perfect place, with a great view of the stars, and the sea-”

“Abby,” Ziva stopped her, “he did not want to tell me about it.”

Every woman looked at Ziva, all casting disbelieving glances at each other.

“Really?” asked Jack, “is he that good?”

Ziva smiled shyly, looking down to her feet.

“Yeah,” she answered, “yeah, he is.”

Giggles filled her room, and for the first time in her life, Ziva David was grateful to have such a great female company.

“I’m so glad that you’re here, ladies. I was getting suffocated with all the planning and the last minute decorations. At least Tony is taking care of Tali, or else she would’ve wanted to opine on everything,” she smiled with the thought.

“So, Ziva, tell us the news! How did Tony propose?” asked Ellie, sitting down at a nearby chair after Abby popped open a bottle of champagne, “we didn’t hear anything about you until the invitations arrived.”

“That… that’s a very long and funny story, but we have something more important to discuss first.”

Ziva grabbed a grape and threw it in her mouth, chewing slowly while studying Ellie, who seemed a bit nervous with the sudden turn in the conversation.

“Eleanor, will I need to give you the bouquet directly or are you already aware that Nicholas is fond of you?”

Ellie froze. Her cheeks blushed until the redness reached her ears, and she huffed a laugh while putting a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

“What? No. Nick? Puff, no way. He’s… he’s just… he’s my partner. We’re coworkers, nothing will happen.”

Everyone glanced at her with a bemused look.

“You do realize what we’re doing here this weekend, don’t you, Ellie?” asked Sloane carefully, placing her hand on top of Bishop’s.

“A wedding?” Abby giggled, “Of… coworkers…?” she added.

Ellie opened up a shy smile when the women started to shake her shoulders and cheer, her cheeks turning even redder than she thought it was possible.

“Don’t worry, uh?” Ziva cast her an honest look, “just have fun and I promise you, time will tell.”

°°°

“HEY TATER TOTS,” called Nick from the water, four kids giggling behind him on the low waves, “HEY, BISHOP!”

Ellie startled where she was lying down on a sun lounger, back facing the sun and wearing a high waisted bikini set. The warmth made her head dizzy with sleep, and she was so tired from the long journey, she didn’t even notice when the back massage Ziva arranged for her ended and when she started to only sunbathe.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT, BRUSSELS SPROUTS?”

“I have a dare for you.”

She startled once again when she realized he was standing just next to her, drops of water wetting her shoulder when he bent down to whisper in her ear.

“What… what dare?” she turned around carefully, hands shading the sun from her eyes as her skin started to tingle with the sight of Nick’s silhouette against the sun.

“I dare you to do a better handstand than those kids.”

“What?” That was unexpected.

“The one with the higher score is Tali. For now. Johnny said that it was because she was older, so I told him you’re older than any of them and doesn’t know how to do a proper handstand.”

Ellie snorted a derisive laugh, taking Nick’s hand to help her stand up, “do you think Eleanor Bishop doesn’t know how to do the most simple summer thing such as a handstand?”

“You’re talking in third person, creep,” he repeated her words from hours before, racing with her towards the kids. Sounds of constant laughter and waves crashing echoed all around.

Abby had taken every one to show a little cave she found with clear hot springs inside, near the cliffs on the other side of the beach. Gibbs and Jack had gone to the opposite direction, walking in the sand until they weren’t visible anymore around the bend.

Meanwhile, Ziva had arranged back massages for her and Ellie to enjoy the little spare time she had before the big event.

She now was lying down at a recliner chair, knots on her back coming undone by the amazing hands of the venue massagist. Her maroon bikini top was untied and she rested at the shade, palm trees swaying with the wind next to her. Her mouth tasted of cold sparkling wine, the sensation of bubbles exploding on her tongue still lingering. All she could hear was the wind, the birds and the sea nearby.

“Hmmm,” she moaned as the massagist touched a particularly painful spot. Her vertebrae cracked carefully under his fingers and the muscles started to slowly relax.

It was heaven.

“Hmmm, just like that, yeah.”

“Miss?” asked the young massagist in a polite tone.

“Hmmm…?” was all she could muster.

Ziva heard the loud sound of children laughing far away, followed by one “I win!” muffled by the powerful wind. She didn’t have a clue what that might be, but she smiled softly with the thought.

The massagist’s hands left her back from a moment, the wind caressing her skin and making her shiver.

“Uhh,” he said, a nervous note distinguishable in his voice, “are you the one getting married, miss?”

His hands returned, massaging her shoulders and the back of her neck as she moaned out loud with the sensation. She was alone and didn’t care about anything or anyone, to be honest. Tony was showing the surroundings to the guests with Abby and Tali was playing in the sand with the other kids. This was her moment, and hers alone.

“Yes, yes I am.”

“And… and who is the groom?” the young man asked politely, voice now steadier once she stopped with the moaning.

“He…” Ziva did it again just to feel him stiffen, biting her lower lip as a loud sound escaped her throat, “his name is Tony. Tall guy. Talks a lot.”

This is still too easy.

It was few the moments in her life Ziva David had truly felt like a woman, only when her job demanded and when her guilty desire asked her to. Now, she had a little girl who asked her about princess’ stories and glittery clothes, a good man at her side whose eyes always landed on her filled with need and a wedding party about to happen.

With a white gown and something blue included.

It all seemed like a dream, after years running away and hiding from Sahar, she was now in this beautiful place with all her family to cherish her wedding.

The girl who ran all her life had finally found herself.

“Is he… is he here?” asked the massagist, hands trailing down her lower back with care.

“Yes, he is. Well, not now, but you know, I do hope he is at the wedding, at least.”

“Of course.”

He changed the position of his hands to press down at her calves and Ziva purred in delight. She felt him bending down to massage the back of her knee, so she moaned once again just to play with him, her sassiness on overdrive.

“Is he, you know, strong? Knows how to fight?”

Ziva’s mind filled with images of Tony with shoulder holsters and sweaty skin, and she had to bite her lip again to prevent her from muttering anything too inappropriate. Gosh, the waiting for this honeymoon would make her explode with greed until there.

“Yeah, I’m afraid he’s pretty good at it.”

The massagist hands trailed the back of her thigh, making a skip from her hips to her lower back again.

“Is he… good looking?”

“Oh,” she smiled with the sight of him in formal attire tomorrow, “oh yeah-”

Her voice abandoned her as she felt the young man bending down atop of her and doing a fast lick at the shell of her ear.

“HEY, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

She quickly grasped her bikini top to turn around and stand up, wanting to punch him right away, but his body pressed her down at the chair, laying on top of her back.

He was too heavy, and for a second she couldn’t move from the position she was lying down.

She had to think fast.

She had to found a quick way out of here.

“I could ask you the same thing, Dah-veed.”

Tony’s raspy voice caressed the back of her ear just as he came closer to place a lingering kiss on the crook of her neck.

“You have no self-respect moaning like that, do you?” he grabbed her hair to position her neck how he liked, placing wet kisses from her shoulder to her earlobe, “you have no respect for the groom also, uh? You do know he’s obeying your wishes to wait until the honeymoon, don’t you?”

He kissed her neck, again and again, and again, making her dizzy and hot and sweaty. Her skin began to prickle wherever he touched and she could feel a tingling sensation starting to grow strong at the base of her belly.

“You do know,” another kiss, “that you’re driving him crazy,” another kiss, “with your bikini like that?”

She started to shiver and couldn’t take it anymore as one of his hands trailed down to grab her firmly at the waist.

“Tony, I-” a loud moan escaped her lips as he pressed his whole body hard on her back.

“He can’t. Wait. For tomorrow. Sweetcheeks,” he said slowly, the syllables leaving his lips just as he placed kiss after kiss on her neck, again and again, making her want to scream, her heart threatening to explode.

Tony planted a wet smooch on her ear, making a loud 'pop’ as he moved away, letting her turn around. An amused smirk danced on his lips as his green eyes gave an appreciate gaze down her body, waiting for her as she tied her bikini. The young massagist was nowhere to be found.

“It was you all along?”

He opened up a boyish smile, eyes growing dark as his gaze lingered on her lips a moment too long.

“Did you really think a massage that good could be done by a shaky little guy in training?”

Ziva chuckled, licking her lips as she watched Tony’s eyes carefully trace her tongue with hard focus.

“How much did you give him to ask that stuff?”

“Your habilities are faltering, Israeli, once upon a time you could sense me in your sleep just by my marvelous natural musk,” his eyes darted from her lips to her chocolate eyes, the color almost invisible as it became two completely black orbs.

The air between them was filled with electricity, the tension almost unbearable with Ziva licking her lips and Tony tracing her tongue with his eyes.

“Just kiss me already, will you?”

She opened up her mouth to welcome him, his wet tongue crashing into hers with obvious need, smooth and tasting of cold tequila. He moved closer to her, wrapping his arm around her waist, the other lifting to her hair as he intensified the kiss.

Ziva couldn’t think straight, she felt like she had drunk at least a whole bottle of wine, mind blank with all the senses taking over her. The warmth in her belly was spreading across her body, through her veins, and, judging by the way he was groaning into her mouth, she guessed he felt the same.

They were sweating as the lust and desire for each other scrambled on the surface and the body heat between them could cause a fire. It seemed that neither of them wanted to stop the kiss.

But it was necessary to inhale, so Tony drank in her lips for one last long moment and then released them with a soft moan. He opened his eyes and licked his lips, tasting her on them as he looked at him and saw the effect of the kiss. She banged her head once lightly against the chair, feeling completely dumbfounded and, with closed eyes, took a deep breath.

“Why did we wait so long again?” Ziva asked, voice quavering and raspy.

“I ask that myself every day,” Tony answered with a wide smile, “so do you think, HEY-”

A pair of steady hands gripped him at his shoulders and lifted him from the chair, just as another held his ankles and he started to be carried away from her.

“Not now, pal,” said Nick, holding his ankles and moving towards the other side of the beach, “you got somewhere else to be.”

"No, no, no, guys, put me down."

“A bachelor party, I think,” added Jimmy from behind, hands under Tony’s arms.

"PUT ME DOWN," exclaimed Tony, tossing in his friends' arms.

“For the one and only Anthony DiNozzo,” said McGee, winking at Ziva as she chuckled, “YOU CAN HAVE HER TOMORROW,” Tim put his hands in a shell shape, his voice echoing across the beach.

“SHE’S MINE EVERY DAY,” Tony yelled back, trying to turn his head towards Ziva but the guys didn’t let him.

“Is he drunk?” she asked, crossing her arms and eyes twinkling.

“No, he’s not,” replied McGee, a knowing smirk on his lips as he nodded towards Tony, “I think he’s just in love.”

#ncis #tiva #ellick #slibbs #tiva fanfiction #ellick fanfiction #ncis fanfiction #something blue fic #my fics #PLEASE READ IT ON AO3!!!#there is music there #very beach vibes #dads and their kids #then it gets a little hotter whoof #and I can't wait to write the next chapter #it's called 'the bachelor'

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quillsareswords · 5 years

Text

Clips of a Year

Damian Wayne

In which we explore highlights from a year of a funny relationship between a hero and a teen with a taste for trouble. Both Damian and reader are 17 in this one. (Also an apology for being inactive for so terribly long.)

Prompt List // Masterlist (both in bio)

You looked as if someone had kicked your puppy and smashed your favorite mug, all in the same instant.

Damian held very still. Very, very, still. His toothbrush was sill hanging loosely from his lips, comb still in hand.

What had he said? What did he do? He clicked through every action he’d even considered in the last three minutes that could have possibly triggered such an offended reaction.

You’d both gotten out of bed. You had shouted that both of you were twenty minutes late. You’d lunged for the shower, he’d gone for his clothes. You’d stumbled out in a rush, still yanking your shirt over your head. He was still fixing with his hair and finishing with brushing his teeth when you’d started scooping armfuls of things into your duffel bag. All he’d done after that was suggest that you leave it all there, as apposed to dragging it back and forth between your apartment and his father’s manor.

“Why?” Your voice is level, wary. Calculated. As if you aren’t entirely sure you want to hear the answer.

He arches an eyebrow. Reaches up and takes the toothbrush from his mouth, and spits the foamy remains of his toothpaste into the sink bowl. “Isn’t it bothersome to keep packing that bag back and forth?”

You loosen at that. Still, you squint suspiciously at him. You dump the last of your belongings into the bag. “No, not really.” You plop down on his king size bed and start yanking your boots on.

This (crashing at one another’s homes in some sloppy cycle, after patrols and nearby, late night activities) has been going on for the past eleven months. Nearly a year, still, you refuse to leave so much as a sweatshirt at his home. He couldn’t be sure exactly why, as he’d never prodded the subject. Though it did interest him a bit. At this point, he left things of his at your apartment all the time.

He saw it as an odd form of trust. Comfort, even. It seemed a strange form of intimacy, to leave his possessions in your space. It was the same kind of trust he felt every time he handed his phone to you before bolting after any of his brothers.

“Damian?”

He blinked dumbly at you once. “What?”

You stand at his bedroom door, propping it open with one hand, the other looped around the strap over your shoulder. “I said, are you coming?”

“Yes,” he finished lacing his boots quickly and met you in at the door. “Of course. No reason for you to get a cab.”

The music is loud, drifting up and out of the nonexistent roof of your car, only to be carried off by the far louder sound of the wind billowing your hair around. Either sound is enough to drown your joyous laughter, though. You howl, face half pressed into the leather headrest, and you’re still sitting sideways in the passenger seat.

He grins straight ahead at the road, suspiciously perfect teeth glimmering in the blurry neon lights.

The stars above you are muted by light pollution of a small town somewhere in western New Jersey. Parents are glaring your way, young couples are throwing you envious stares, and elders are reminiscing, wishing for that youthful flame burning at your core.

You’re sitting on top of the world, breathless with incandescent splendor and the rush of speeding down a highway at 95 miles an hour.

Damian knows this. He knows you’re reveling in the blurry colors and the way they light up his profile, and the incredible and indescribable sense of freedom you feel from the high of this speed. You live for it. And to be sharing it with him? You were so high off the pure happiness, you didn’t have room in your soul to worry about the crash when you came down.

He’d be lying to say he didn’t share every inch of raging enjoyment you held. He turns away from the road for only a moment, and locks those six frames of time away for later. You’re glowing with pleasure, red, blue, and pink neon lights from the bar you pass throw it into different shades, and the beaming grin splitting your lips apart is something he swears he’ll never forget.

You hit the county line only a few minutes later, and suddenly, you know exactly what you’ve always wanted out of life.

It’s midnight when you find him.

Your boots are heavy on the gravel of a building’s roof. You don’t know the address, or the building’s purpose, owner, or even a minute of its history. But you’re thankful to it all the same: for offering him a few hours of quiet sanctuary while you stuck your neck out on his behalf.

You’d never had any particular beef with Bruce. He annoyed you sometimes, but he had always been courteous to you and supported your relationship with his son (to an extent -- you are technically a criminal, in his defense). But you weren’t one to stand by idly when he decided it was necessary to to rip Damian a new one for something you both knew wasn’t his fault.

You expected a less supportive parent on Damian’s end.

You slowed your pace a few yards across the roof. You gave him enough time to tell you to leave, to decide if he was alright with your presence at the moment. He didn’t object to it.

You stopped beside him. He peered up at you. “Did Bruce send you?” he gritted.

You propped your hands on your hips. “If you think for one second Bruce could make me do anything, you’ve obviously had a clouded image of me in mind for way too long.” You dropped down to sit on the roof beside him, and knocked the rubber heels of your boots against the top of the brick wall, soles facing the nearly empty road beneath you. “Besides,” you breathed, “I don’t think your dad’s gonna be askin’ me any favors after that.”

He didn’t turn to face you. “After what?” He paused, as if a few pieces had clicked together. “What did you say?”

You leaned back on your hands, sagging your shoulders to recline yourself enough to stare up at a cloudy Gotham night sky. “Oh, nothing important.”

He didn’t seem like he wanted details. “What did he say?”

You rolled her eyes his way. “Not much, actually. Didn’t give him much of a chance, I guess, now that I think about it.”

He went silent for a little while. For that little while, you busied yourself with searching for stars among all the light pollution and dense clouds.

Then, “I didn’t kill those men.”

He doesn’t face you. He hunches his back and stares down at the scarce traffic.

You stare at the back of his head for a fleeting moment, before you shift your weight and lay a hand on his shoulder. “I know you didn’t,” you state firmly. “The thought never even crossed my mind, to be honest.” You were quick to correct yourself, “At least, not til Bruce brought it up, anyway. Never entertained the idea, though.”

He didn’t answer right away. But before you turn away again, he turns to face you fully at last, and you can’t miss the shiny wet streaks of tears marking his cheeks. “You might be the only one.”

You push your self up immediately, and wrap him in a tight embrace. He buries his nose in the crook of your neck, and sets his hand firmly on your shoulder blade to pull you closer. You thread fingers through his hair, and will back angry tears. “We’ll figure it out, Love. Don’t worry about a thing.”

“Do you know what time it is?”

You smile sheepishly at him from the drivers seat of your ‘75 mustang convertible. “Sorry.”

He lazily tugs the door open and drops into the seat next to you. “This had better be something,” he warns loosely, snapping his seat belt into place.

You wave your free hand as you pull away from Wayne Manor. “I know how much you hate losing beauty sleep, trust me.” You throw a wry grin his way. “Everybody suffers when Mr. Perfect misses his much needed beauty rest.”

He rolls his eyes at you, even turns away so you can’t see a smile, but he’s forgotten all the marvelous uses of side mirrors. “Where are we going, (L/N)?”

You flip the radio on, the warm wind blowing your hair back as you gain velocity going down the long stretch of driveway you’ve always cursed his home for. Lord, the number of times you’d had to walk up the beast-

“Don’t you worry about, Wayne. Just know that you’ll love it.” You slide on your favorite pair of sunglasses with one hand. “In fact, why don’t you get that pillow out of the back seat and doze for a bit, if you’re that tired.”

“Doze? How long far are we going-?” He looks behind the seat to find this mysterious pillow. Suddenly, he’s giving you the look. The one that closely resembles a tired thirty-something aunt and asks the gods why on Earth he had to be the one to fall for you. “(Y/N)?”

You bite back a smile. Don’t turn away from the road. “Yes, Love?”

“Why is my dog in the backseat of your car, with my suitcase?”

“Oh, is he?” you spin around dramatically to see. “Wha-?” You grin, turn back to the road, then to the dog again, as if you’re in some cheesy sitcom and this is the result of a prank you’d entirely predicted. “Titus! What are you doing in my backseat? And is that your daddy’s suitcase?”

Damian smacks you lightly on the arm as he leans all the way back into his seat, white pillow in the other hand. “Bruce is expecting me at the Enterprise tomorrow, you know. And what about patrol?” He fixes the pillow against the door. “And aren’t you supposed to be at your friend’s race Monday evening?”

You shook your head disappointingly. “I am truly offended that you think I’d whisk you off into the sunset-”

“Sunrise.”

“-to keep all to myself the first week of summer break.” You grin at him. “I got clearance from your dad, Tim and Dick agreed to split your shifts this week, and the race got cancelled because her garage almost got busted.”

He shakes his head at you.

“What?”

“I swear you’ll be the death of me,” he breathes, just loud enough to hear over the wind.

You beam at him again as he settles on the pillow. “Then it’ll be a damn good death!”

Saturday mornings have always been a favorite of yours. Especially when they were spent laying in bed with your favorite person.

“Would you rather: kiss a grizzly bear or a cockroach?”

He wrinkles his nose in distaste. “Neither, I’d rather avoid both altogether.” This earns a laugh.

You’re laying in your queen sized bed together, strips of mid-morning sunlight streaming in through the open window at the foot of your bed, beneath a comforter and Damian’s arm, and not specifically in that order. He isn’t wearing a shirt, you aren’t wearing pants, so you’ve agreed you’re even and both immune to any quips about being lazy or having manners.

He didn’t understand why you had wanted your bed backwards, so the footboard was against the wall and the headboard faced the opposing wall, but now, with a warm crisp fall breeze swirling over you both and around the room, bathed in sunlight, he saw your reasoning with perfect clarity.

“Alright, alright, my turn.” He paused to think up your two options. “Would you rather: have learned to paint, or learned to cook?”

You didn’t hesitate for a moment. “Cook.” You smiled warmly at him. “I wouldn’t trade your little lessons for the world.” You looked past him, the the easel set up in the far corner of your bedroom.

They weren’t really lessons, just little things he tells you while he works. He’s laughed before about needed another easel so you could paint with him, but you always replied that you liked sketching more.

His lips pulled at the edges, and a certain warmth filled him that he could only ever seem to find with you.

Yes, Saturday mornings were the best mornings.

“I don’t know if I like this,” you hummed absently, more to yourself than to him.

He peered down at your sketchpad from her perch on his stool. He hums. “Try a sharper profile,” he suggests.

You take your eraser to the paper, and he turns again to the blank canvas in front of him. He stares at it blankly for a few minutes more, before he gives up and looks back down at you, sprawled across your comforter on the floor beside his easel. “Let me see your book.”

You finish the line you were working at, then hand the whole thing up to him. Your gaze remains on him, while he flips through your most recent off-white and graphite works.

He seems to find one he likes. He turns the paper for you to see. “May i use this one?”

It’s one you had worked at a few days prior, when you had found yourself in the park that afternoon. It depicts a woman and a man, sitting on the same bench, though at opposite ends, yet they share what appears to be a longing gaze. Behind them, leaves fall from the trees framing the scene, and before them, the sidewalk.

You nodded and offered an encouraging smile. “Mhmm. Go ahead and tear it out, if you want.”

He does, and clips it to the top corner of the canvas. “Thank you.”

It’s getting late when you find him again, still sitting up on that stool you’d found for three dollars at a flea market last summer.

You all but draped yourself over his shoulders from behind, minding the painting pallet balanced on one hand, and the shiny blotch of yellow on his shirt. “How’s it coming along?” You let your eyes roam over the beautiful swirl of colors.

“I should be asking you that,” he replies. You watch in subdued wonder as he takes yellows and dull oranges to create beautiful leaves.

You remember the first sketchbook of his you’d seen. It was far back when you were first growing to trust each other. You’d come up to him from behind, without any warning. You’d seen the gory, angry, hand-drawn pictures. To most, they’d, have warded them off. Sure, they were a bit disturbing, but you’d seen worse. The crowd you ran with back then wasn’t any better than a handful of murderous street rats without a care in the world or any regard for anyone else: so you didn’t think much of it, at the time.

But now, you get to look at this beautiful image he’s had a huge part in creating. One of vibrant color and peace and sunnier outlook on things. You get to see it firsthand. You get to see him firsthand, and you find yourself bursting with pride, because look at how far he’s come. How far you’ve both come.

You smile tenderly at the artwork as he lowers his paintbrush to observe it himself. “It’s possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Dearest.”

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #Damian Wayne #damian wayne blurb

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