#poor Tim gets the short end of the stick. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reveluving · 2 years

Text

it matters to me ; bruce wayne x batmom reader

summary: you and Bruce spend the night together after his toughest week yet.

warnings: smut (minors DNI!), fluff (reverse comfort), mentions of bruises and violence

a/n: after my post about the lack of Batmom smut, you just know I had to do sumn ✋🏼😔 not much but definitely not my last! thank you & don't forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» check out my batmom m.list, or my full m.list!

» smut includes; unprotected sex (p in v sex) in the bathtub, slight striptease, spanking, reverse cowgirl, soft!Bruce.

'His precious other half. The caring mother to his many children. The best daughter figure Alfred could've asked for.' ;

You could tell that something was bothering Bruce to the max. Hell, everyone in the house could tell. The way he zoned out at the dinner table, or the times you’ve caught him trying to control his anger whenever he was on the phone. You’ve read the news; Wayne Enterprises was under fire for a reason that you were pretty sure was the fault of the company it was working with. They weren’t even that big of a name, other than being from New York. Still, you shouldn’t be surprised by how much power the press had to manipulate the opinions of the public.

It was pretty obvious that Bruce was getting the short end of the stick, and has been for the past three days.

The next morning was no different. You almost didn’t want to wake him up by how peaceful he seemed. You took in his appearance, appreciating him at his most vulnerable and tranquil. You looked at the time, silently glad that he had over an hour before needing to get ready. So, you got out of bed as slowly and quietly as possible, tiptoeing to the bathroom to let your husband rest for a couple more minutes.

The hot shower did little to calm your nerves but it was worth trying. As soon as you were settled with your skincare routine and ready in your work clothes, you opened the door, disappointed to find Bruce sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Morning, you,” You walked over to him, sitting on the edge of the bed and kissing him on the cheek, “I was hoping you’d still be asleep. I wasn’t going to wake you up until another ten minutes or so,”

“S’alright,” He yawned before giving you a tired smile, “Promised to meet up with Lucius first thing in the morning,” Two hours of sleep was definitely not ideal, more so when he came home from work and left to patrol without seeing you. Only when Tim had told him that he and Stephanie would have the situation under control until sunrise that he would return to the manor, finding you sound asleep but no one to hold. He didn’t sleep immediately, instead, holding you in his arms before letting his exhaustion take over, and that was around 4:57 a.m., “Thank you, though. You know I would’ve stay a little longer if it wasn’t for the meeting,”

“I know,” You twiddled your thumbs, “Just… Try not to overwork yourself, okay?”

You knew it was almost impossible to request such a thing from him.

“I’ll try,” It was the best response he could offer, knowing better than to lie by promising when he himself couldn’t help with the predicament he was in. He hated the fact that he couldn’t hide his emotions better. He knew vulnerability wasn’t a bad thing, or at least, not within the family, thanks to you. But as old habits die hard, it was easier said than done. Like anyone else, you had bigger problems to deal with, so the thought of dragging you to his ‘minor and avoidable problems’ just added to his guilt.

“Alright,” You answered, “I’ll see you downstairs?”

“See you in 15 minutes,” He nodded, pulling you in for a kiss before letting you go. It had you wishing for the universe to be fairer with the poor man. You forced yourself to leave the bedroom, but not before blowing him a kiss. You made your way to the kitchen, instinctively grinning at the voices of your children.

“Morning!” You chirped, earning different forms of answers from them, plus Alfred, who was washing the pans and utensils.

“Where’s father?” Damian asked before taking a spoonful of his cereal.

“Just woke up,” The dining room was suddenly silent, other than the sounds of you pouring tea into your cup. The way you seemed distracted clearly concerned them, their eyes darting from one another, “I’m worried about him,”

“You mean father?” You nodded.

“I’m sure you guys noticed how reserved he’s been for the past couple of days. More than usual, at least,” You’d be more surprised if they didn’t.

“We have. He’s been careless in patrols, too,” Thank goodness you weren’t drinking the second you heard that, or you would’ve spat it out.

“Careless?” The newfound information caused your stomach to drop. The fearful look on your face forced Duke to butt in and correct Damian.

“Well, we wouldn’t say ‘careless’,” Though it was a strong word to describe Bruce’s recent behaviour, the youngest wasn’t totally wrong, “But, yeah, we could tell he hasn’t been focusing. Taking more hits than usual,”

You knew it was bad but not this serious. You would think that with the stress he has been receiving from work, he’d be better at night by blowing off some steam on a bunch of criminals. Morbid, yes, but it made sense, right? Plus, it wasn’t like he was beating up some random civilian just because they had a punchable face or something.

Cass’ soft taps on your hand forced you out of your thoughts.

‘You think he’ll be okay?’ She signed, pitying both you and Bruce.

“I hope so,” A tight smile was all you could muster, though you didn’t have to guess that they knew better, “Don’t worry, I’ll try to think of something. Maybe a small talk before we go to bed,” You pursed your lips, “In the meantime, do me a favour and keep a close eye on him during patrols?”

Their thumbs-up did help you relax just a little. You had no doubt they’ve had Bruce’s back without needing you to tell them, but it was nice to hear from them every once in a while.

Today was going to be a long day for you in the café, and a longer day for Bruce in the office.

Just a day after Damian told you about Bruce’s lack of focus as Batman since the ordeal, you’ve begun noticing more bruises coming up. The ones on his face weren’t too visible, thankfully, but the ones littering his body from the neck down were too much for you to bear.

You had to do something, and it all started with a phone call.

Friday rolled around, and Bruce came home after dusk to a quiet manor.

“Mistress (Y/N) should be in her room,” Alfred reassured the man, though he didn’t mention the kids and closed the door behind him, “Dinner will be ready shortly,”

“Right, thanks,” There was something about the mention of ‘dinner’ that had him frozen midstep. He was beginning to feel like he had forgotten something but no matter how hard he tried to remember, nothing was clicking. Still, he tried his best, all while dragging his feet to his room, eager to greet his beloved after one of the worst weeks he has ever had.

“(Y/N)?” He pushed the door open, smiling when you coincidentally came out of the bathroom in a silky robe.

“You’re home!” You exclaimed, running over to him for a hug as soon as he came in. He reciprocated just as tightly, instantly relaxing as he inhaled the familiar scent of your hair. It was tough to think that he only had a couple of hours with you before needing to go out as the Dark Knight as usual, especially after all the shit he had to deal with, “I missed you,”

“I missed you too,” His heart clenched. There wasn’t a day where he hasn’t thought about you, how you were doing, and how much he was in deep water for the times where he was needed elsewhere. You were a patient woman, though Bruce had always thought you deserved someone better.

On a more selfish note, he was beyond thankful to have you, and he hoped you felt the same way.

“What have you been up to?” He pulled away, though he had his hands on your hips.

“Nothing much. Work is work but now, I’m pretty excited,” That piqued his interest.

“Oh? Why’s that?” He asked.

“‘Cause now, I get to spoil you!” He raised his eyebrows, “Because I may or may not have made changes to tonight’s plans?”

Tonight’s plans?

Oh.

“Shit,” He paled, “The dinner. Sweetheart, I’m so sorry—” He rubbed his forehead, looking exasperated with himself, “Look, I'll go down and tell Alfred. We can still make it. Just give me—”

“I cancelled it,” You interrupted, watching his eye widen in surprise, “It didn’t feel right going when I know you’re not feeling okay, so I called the restaurant a few hours ago and changed it to another date,” You could tell by the guilt in his eyes that he wanted to retort, “Bruce, I’m not mad, I promise. I’m just worried about you. We’ve been worried about you,”

His grip tightened, not enough to hurt but it did act as an indicator that he was in need of support, in more ways than one, that is.

"It was nothing. I just thought I could handle it myself, y’know? Just until the press gets tired of the same news over and over," He shrugged, his nonchalance caused your cheeks to puff up.

“Bruce, it clearly wasn't 'nothing'. We’ve been through this, remember?” You tilted his chin, forcing him to look at you, “I didn’t stick around with a family of crime fighters for years just to blow a fuse at you for sharing your problems. If anything, I'm proud of you,"

Living in a city like Gotham, showing vulnerability to the public was the worst mistake one could ever make. Which is why when you came along, you taught them that at least within the family, it was nothing to be ashamed of. How it was normal to feel down and ask for help when the world was too much.

You thoroughly reminded them that it was okay to not be okay, no matter how 'little' the issue was.

It took a long time to teach him, as well as the others, but damn, it was definitely worth it.

"Let me help you the way you helped me," You embraced him ever so gently. You couldn't imagine a life without him, Alfred or your children. Even if you had the café, what happens after that?

Would there even be an 'after that' in the first place?

He didn't think it was possible to love you more than he already has, and yet, here he was.

His precious other half. The caring mother to his many children. The best daughter figure Alfred could've asked for.

A symbol of hope that keeps the Wayne's going.

His parents would've loved you.

"Would you let me treat you the way you deserve?" Oh, how he would've loved to submit to your desires. The desire to please him, so much so that he wished he could've skipped his duty for the night, "You don't have to go,"

It didn't take long for him to understand, looking down at you as a sign to continue.

"Believe it or not, Damian told the others about it. About how you couldn't even focus on patrols, and Jason was able to help out by being in charge for the night. Though, I'm pretty sure he's going to use the information as blackmail," You couldn't help the boxy smile when Bruce groaned, his ears turning red. Trust the kids to tell their older brothers about him getting beat up left and right in the most embarrassing way, "I saw the bruises, Bruce. You know I was going to find out one way or another,"

You rested your chin against his chest, staring up at him with such crestfallen eyes. It held love, too, but he didn't miss the way you were holding back your tears.

"Will you let me?"

A familiar sight, considering how he has been in your shoes before. When he begged to treat you the way you deserved, especially when you were at your lowest. Rare, but it has happened, and Bruce would do anything to help you back on your feet if it were to ever occur again.

"Only if I get to do the same for you," He whispered against your forehead, and you couldn't be any happier.

"Deal," You grinned before sealing his lips with yours.

You were glad you had everything ready. As soon as you and Bruce were able to talk it out, you brought him to the bathroom, showing him the bubble bath you've prepared.

"I may have gone overboard with the soap," You scooped up a handful of bubbles, holding them in between your hands, "It smells really good, though,"

"I don't mind," He chuckled, watching you appreciate the littlest things as usual, "Haven't had a good bath in a while. I'm pretty sure my showers only lasted around ten minutes since last week,"

"Well, that won't do," You pouted, beckoning him to you after shaking the bubbles off your hands, "Come on, I'll help you out of your clothes,"

He did as he was told, moving his arms and legs when necessary till he was completely naked. He noticed how you frowned for a split second, tensing up at the sight of his bruises, some darker than the other. You shook your head, preferring to focus on what mattered at the moment.

"Alright, handsome, in you go," One leg in and he was already sighing in relaxation before submerging himself in the mass of bubbles. He rolled his shoulders, placing both arms on the edge of the tub. His current state had you bouncing on the balls of your feet until he looked at you questioningly.

"Well?"

"Well what?" You questioned back.

"Aren't you going to come in here with me?" Oh?

"I…" You didn't think about that. Your initial plan was to sit on the edge of the tub, mostly to be able to wash his hair and back. Then again, Bruce's idea sounded a lot better, "If you want me to,"

He silently motioned for your hand, allowing him to cover yours in his larger one.

"I'd love that," You shuffled your feet against the cool tile, bashful by his small but sweet gesture before slowly taking off your robe. You let the material pool next to his set of clothes, earning you a whistle from your husband. He didn't expect the black bra and high-cut briefs and frankly, he didn't mind one bit.

But, he would much rather see them on the floor.

"Take them off for me," He requested, the tone much deeper as he let his eyes rake over your figure. His voice was hypnotizing, but you wanted to toy with him just for a little bit. You turned around, arching your back to accentuate the curve of your ass while removing your bra. From your peripheral vision, he had his head tilted back, watching you closely and dare you say, hungrily.

The bra dropped to the floor with a thud but you didn't turn around just yet. Instead, you traced your hands from the back of your neck, down to your sides and finally, to the band of your underwear. He may have gone through a lot this week, but you couldn't help but have him at your mercy.

"Please, baby," There it was. You smirked before taking it off, bending down as the finale of your act. Your ass was within arm's reach, and it didn't take long till you felt a light smack on your right cheek.

"Have I ever told you how cute your butt looks?" The way he massaged your flesh sent sparks up your spine. It was amusing to hear him say 'butt' instead of 'ass', meaning he was still in a softer mood.

Not for long.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr Wayne," You playfully smacked his hand.

"Really? 'Cause flattery got me a beautiful woman in my hot tub. Well," He pursed his lips, "Or at least, she's supposed to,"

You scoffed, walking over to him with a sway of your hips. You couldn't resist teasing him a little more by bending at the side of his tub.

"So impatient," You batted your eyelashes, snapping your fingers in front of him when you knew he wasn't exactly looking at you, "Eyes up here, handsome,"

"Sorry. Well," He shrugged, "Not really," He gave you a small cheeky smile, contrasting the feigned annoyance on your face before offering you his hand, "Come here,"

He helped you in, wanting you to be as close as possible despite the size of the tub. He placed his chin on your shoulder, watching and laughing with you as you played with the bubbles. You turned your head a little, locking your eyes with his before kissing his nose.

"I love you," You whispered.

"I love you, too," He responded, nuzzling his face against you, "More than you can imagine,"

The intimacy of having his chest against your back, arms wrapped around you to be able to plant kisses on your neck and shoulder.

"Bruuuce," You whined, writhing in his hold, "You promised you'd let me spoil you,"

"You're already spoiling me by giving me a night in with you," He mumbled against your burning skin, "You can do whatever you want after this, but for now, just let me have you,"

His hands slid up your body, giving your breasts a firm squeeze. Your gasps echoed off the fancy bathroom walls, your hands above his when he rolled your nipples in between his fingers. Your legs straddled his, stopping you from ever closing them. Not when his cock was right below your aching cunt.

"Do you feel how hard I am for you?" He breathed out, "I don't deserve a woman as considerate as you and yet, here you are; checking up on me, convinced the kids so I can stay home, giving me a bubble bath,"

"I… I don't deserve you. G-Gotham doesn't deserve you," You corrected in between your mewls, "Giving y-your all to the city as b-both Bruce Wayne and Batman no matter how hard things get,"

He didn't reply, hoping to leave the banter out until much later. It wasn't that he hated it, if anything, he was absolutely touched. He knew denying it was completely out of the question, so he took it like a champ.

Just the way you wanted.

"Grind yourself against me," He rasped, feeling his length slide in between your lips. You obeyed, feeling desperate for him as much as he was for you. You rolled your hips against his, holding onto one of his legs for leverage, "That's it, don't stop,"

The splash and slosh of the bath as it spills out little by little was ignored by both you and your husband.

"Bruce, please… I need you inside me," Patience be damned, you weren't planning on cumming right then and there. You've been dying to have him split you in half for a while now.

"Go on," He urged, "Get on all fours and put it in,"

You didn't need to be told twice, your movements left your entire back exposed. The suds on your body, especially the ones decorating your ass was enticing, to say the least. You lined the tip of his member to your throbbing sex, sinking down onto it slowly with choked-out sobs.

"Slowly, slowly. There you go," He sighed, savouring the moments when you clenched around his cock.

"Fuck," You drawled in a daze, stretching you open even if you were only midway. He was trying his hardest not to thrust all at once. You raised your hips, letting the very tip in before taking more of him. One of his hands slid up and down your spine, the slickness from the suds only encouraged you to go faster, especially when a sharp smack was landed on your ass, one on the left before moving to the right, "Fuck!"

He couldn't resist when the shine from the soap practically begged him to spank you.

"You like that?" The high-pitched 'mhm' prompted him to smirk, landing a couple more to hear you yelp at every touch. Once he figured you had enough, he cooed, "Think you can take more of me?"

Oh, you knew you could, you just needed a little more time to adjust.

You have yet to get used to the size of this man.

Your whines didn't stop, even when you had him all the way. Not only were you tightening around him every time you even thought about moving, but his hands were also holding you down, breathing deeply as your walls were pretty much choking him.

"Bruce, please! I can't—" You couldn't even finish your sentence, crying out in a way that you knew he wouldn't live it down when all of this was said and done. But, if it meant being able to please your man to the fullest, so be it, "I w-want you to cum in me,"

Fuck.

"How can I say no to that?" Without a single warning, he practically jackhammered into you, the sudden roughness caused the lukewarm water to splash out much more. The breathy moans that were coming from both of you are haunting in the most beautiful way possible. You'd probably be reminded of this very night from then on.

"O-oh, fuck, right there!" You tried to match his pace, hoping to ignore how shaky your legs were in favour of chasing your orgasm. The speed was almost unrelenting, as if he was finally letting his frustrations out, more so when you squeaked at a particular spot. A spot only he could ever find, "I-I'm going—! Bruce!"

"Do it!" He rasped, unable to hold it in any longer, "Fucking cum right now!"

You nearly squirmed away, letting out a long, dragged moan as you gushed around his cock. He didn't stop, nails digging deeper into your hips to help you reach your high before milking every last drop of his cum. You could've drowned momentarily when your elbows buckled, only to be pulled into Bruce's chest thanks to his reflexes.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, shuddering every time he moved in and out of you at a much slower speed. Your oversensitive lips had you whining, closing your eyes when he stroked your back.

"Thank you," He kissed you on the cheek, forehead, nose and every time his lips could reach, "Thank you so much. You're so good to me,"

Your weak giggles were enough, only to choke out a gasp when his hips stuttered against yours. The images of your own desperation flooded your mind, shying away by hiding your face into his collarbone.

None of you moved for what was assumed was five minutes or so, feeling exhausted yet content to have each other for a little while longer.

"Thank you," He repeated, softer this time.

"You're welcome," Seeing him smile, as genuine as when he came home an hour ago, was the one thing you looked forward to.

Nothing could ruin this moment.

The sudden knocks coming from the bedroom door, considering that you left the bathroom door slightly ajar, caused both of you to jump.

"Master Bruce, Mistress (Y/N), I just had the dinner table set up. Come to the dining room whenever you're both ready," Alfred called from the other side before hearing his footsteps become softer by the second. You and Bruce shared a look before laughing softly.

"Do you think he heard all that?" He asked you.

"I hope not," He didn't, you knew that. At least, there was a high chance that he didn't. Yesterday, as soon as you told Alfred that you had 'plans' for Bruce, he knew not to come up to the second floor until he was absolutely sure you had done what was necessary, "You still up for dinner?"

"Mhm, I didn't have much for lunch today," You blinked.

"Don't tell me you only had the coffee and croissant that you ordered from the café?" You knew what his answer was going to be, and the guilty look he had didn't help much either.

"I plead the fifth?" You didn't have it in you to scold him for his negligence. That didn't mean you weren't disappointed, “Okay, okay, I’m really sorry. I just wanted to see you as soon as I finished my work. I thought I could make up for the lost time when I was so reserved about the whole issue with that other company,”

“Oh, sweetheart,” You shook your head with a pout, “Then at the very least, you can make it up to me by having dinner downstairs,”

“Deal,” He agreed without hesitation. You didn’t leave the room immediately though — Alfred did say to come down whenever you were both ready. For now, both of you agreed to stay in each other’s arms a little while longer.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» gorgeous rose divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics ♡

2K notes · View notes

captainendgame · 4 months

Text

Good people really always get short end of the stick. Tim deserved to be loved by someone with their entire heart, someone who's so crazy for him that nothing else matters. He deserved the love he gave to hawk. Hawk wasn't evil, he loved him but poor execution man, i have no sympathies for people who treat their loved ones like shit just because they never learned to show their love

Some can argue tim was stupid and naive, which i also believe. I feel so bad for these kind of people i constantly wanted to shake him badly and ask him to grow up. But that's not how God made them

#fellow travelers #tim laughlin #hawkins fuller

12 notes · View notes

nokingsonlyfooles · 8 months

Text

WTYP: The Shandor Building, Part 8

[Do you like the colour of the fanfic? This is long and if you expand it you're gonna get the whole thing, because Tumblr hates you. Don't say I didn't warn you!]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Part 8: Disaster Roulette: Horse Viscera

[Beware of strong language, mention of all kinds of death, gore, and Lovecraftian horror.]

[SLIDE: The Atmospheric Railway.]

D: Wow.

A: That smells amazing!

L: Is that pancakes? Is that pancakes or am I having a stroke?

R: It’s pancakes. On the little stove right here. Says it’s “The First Dining-Car-Powered Railway.”

D: So we have full access to any bullshit you made up during the episode?

R: Seems like it.

L: Is there syrup?

A: I don’t think we mentioned syrup…

D: Still! Pancakes and no imminent threat of death! Well done, lady and gents!

D [text over slide]: I FEEL LIKE SUCH A FOOL.

D: Pancakes all around and let’s have a chat about traaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIII — !

[sounds of WTYP inadvertently setting an 1884 land speed record, and 75 seconds of screams]

D [text over slide]: I HAVE EDITED OUT QUITE A BIT MORE SCREAMING. UNFORTUNATELY, WE HAD ACCESS TO ANY BULLSHIT WE MADE UP DURING THE EPISODE, AND SO DID GOZER. I WILL NOT ELABORATE, BUT HERE IS AN ARTIST’S DEPICTION.

[Postproduction image of blood-drenched Carrie at the prom.]

[more screaming, human language slowly becoming intelligible]

D [louder and louder to be heard above the others]: DEAD AIR AND SCREAMING! DEAD AIR AND SCREAMING! WE’RE ONLY RECORDING DEAD AIR AND SCREAMING! FOR GOD’S SAKE, CLEAR THE BLOOD OUT OF YOUR MICS AND SAY SOMETHING FUNNY!

A: I HAVE DISEASES THEY HAVEN’T EVEN INVENTED YET AND THEY’RE GOING TO NAME THEM ALL AFTER ME! I’LL BE STUCK WITH THIS NAME FOR THE REST OF MY SHORT LIFE! “Oh, Alice Caldwell-Kelly? Did you discover Alice Caldwell-Kelly Syndrome?” “I AM ALICE CALDWELL-KELLY SYNDROME!”

L: I HAD MY MOUTH OPEN!

G: HA HA HA. DON’T YOU LIKE HORSIES, W’TYP [somehow pronouncing it like R’lyeh]?

D: WE PREFER THEM IN ONE FUCKING PIECE!

R: Yeah, that shouldn’t have been like that.

A: Oh, my God, how did I ever think horse viscera was funny?

D: Then think of something else!

A: Nothing is ever going to be funny ever again, and I am going to die in a pocket dimension, covered in horse-and-rat smoothie.

L: And pancakes.

A: And pancakes. …Rocz, what?

R: You got a little piece of tail, right, right there…

D [text over slide]: I HAVE EDITED OUT A FURTHER 45 SECONDS OF MASS VOMITING. IT WAS NOT VERY FUNNY.

A [exhausted]: Just kill us already.

L: Please.

D: Same.

R: Motion carries.

G: POOR, PITIFUL W’TYP. THE ATMOSPHERIC RAILWAY NEVER KILLED ANYONE.

A: Right? So? Now what?

G: I SHALL INDUCE YOU TO [bleep] YOURSELVES! [lower voice] YOU MAY BLEEP THAT IN POST, DEVON. IF YOU SURVIVE!

D [text over slide]: I LIVED, BITCH.

A: Oh, fuck off.

L: Boo! Weak!

R: Not happening.

D: Lazy cunt.

[sounds of WTYP throwing horse-viscera-soaked pancakes]

G: [clearing throat] “SO, WHEN YOU THREE TELL US YOUR PRONOUNS YOU ARE KIDDING, RIGHT? L-O-L!”

A: Oh, God, xe’s reading the comments!

D: No! Never read the comments!

G: “HEY YOU ALL. I AM JUST GOING TO GIVE YOU SOME FEEDBACK FROM THE PERSPECTIVE OF SOMEONE WHO DOESN’T LIKE PODCASTS AT ALL. YOU CAN PROBABLY GUESS WHAT THOSE CRITICISMS ARE. I AM HERE TO LEARN ABOUT URBAN PLANNING AND ENGINEERING…” [continuing faintly under the following]

L: Frig. Why did we start pinning the worst ones?

R: It was funny.

D: Xe could at least stick to the ones from the Atmospheric Railway.

R: They were largely positive, though.

A: Boys, I’m going to be really honest with you, I’ve been through some shit in my time, and this is all getting to be a bit much. It’s not so much the negative comments — although it stings a bit more to hear them out loud — it’s being trapped in an alternate hell dimension with no hope of escape. I mean, where does it all end? Just podcasting, negative comments and engineering disasters, for all eternity?

R: It’s been a pretty fun time, right up until just recently…

A: WE WEREN’T COVERED IN PURÉED HORSE UNTIL JUST RECENTLY! [sigh] If we can’t find a way out of this, it’s only a matter of time before I embrace that suction tube and give the horse-and-rat smoothie an Alice boost. Your thoughts?

R: I always figured a god would hafta come kill me to take me out, but I ain’t ready to give up yet.

D: But as it stands, we can only play to a stalemate, and then Gozer changes xyr form again. We need a means of attack. Can you think of an episode where you speculated about… about somehow wounding the disaster? Or… I don’t know, fixing it?

L: I dunno, Dev. They just always seemed so inevitable.

R: We’ve got slides of ‘em.

A: It’s always been more of a gallows humour kind of thing.

D: Superpowers? Did you ever give each other superpowers?

R: Other than the power of knowledge?

D: The power of knowledge isn’t going to dent a fucking god, Rocz! Gods do not work that way!

L: What about… The Frankford Junction Wreck?

A: [sigh] Sleep deprivation isn’t much of a superpower…

L: No, not that.

A: What? Rocz’s well-known love of trains, or… Oh. [laugh] Oh, yes. That might be of considerable assistance.

R: Something other than my well-known love of trains?

A: Shh! Don’t let on!

D: Whose pick is it? Alice had one, and Rocz had one, and we all said this one together.

L: It’s either you or me, buddy. So just don’t stop thinking about the Frankford Junction Wreck…

G: “…I DO NOT CARE ABOUT YOUR BANTER. THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE EDUCATIONAL. NOT ENTERTAINMENT.”

L: Fuck, that was all one comment, wasn’t it?

R: Yep, that was a longy.

A: With no line breaks.

R [to Gozer, flatly]: No.

G: “CAN YOU NOT JUST ENGAGE WITH CRITICISM? THIS WAS ALL SINCERE. I LIKE YOU INDIVIDUALLY AND MOST OF ALL…” [continuing faintly under the following]

D [text over slide]: I CONTROL THE AUDIO MIXING. I AM THE GOD OF EDITING.

D: I don’t think we’re getting out of this until Gozer gets tired of commenting or runs out of material…

A: Xe’s not going to run out of material, this is only from Episode Six!

D: Keep it together, Alice…

L: Don’t worry! I got your back, babygirl. HEY! GOZER! ANCIENT SUMERIAN GODS EAT SHIT!

G: L-O-L! UMAD [pronounced “oomad”] BRO?

L: YEAH! YOU BET I’M MAD! I EXIST ON THE INTERNET, I DO NOT CONFORM TO CONVENTIONAL STANDARDS OF MALE BEAUTY, AND I’M JEWISH! MY PEOPLE HAVE BEEN ARGUING WITH GODS SINCE YOU WERE PISSING IN YOUR ANCIENT SUMERIAN DIAPERS! AND I’M ABOUT TO START MAKING ACTIONABLE THREATS!

D [text over slide]: I GOT YOUR BACK, BABYGIRL.

L: SO WHY DON’T YOU [bleep] YOURSELF IN THE [bleep] BEFORE I [bleep] AND [bleep] ALL YOUR FOLLOWERS IN A KIDDIE POOL OF YOUR OWN [bleep] WITH [bleep] AND [bleep] AND YOUR LITTLE DOGS TOO! UNTIL YOU [bleep] AND I HOPE YOU [bleep] IN [bleep] AND SAY HELLO TO ELON MUSK AND ADOLF HITLER WHILE YOU’RE AT IT! I’LL [bleep] ALL THREE OF YOU [bleep] IN A LAKE OF [bleep] AND [bleep] AND THEN I’LL TOWEL YOU OFF AND FIRE YOU OUT OF A ROCKET INTO THE SUN! AND THAT LAST PART IS NOT ACTIONABLE, I DO NOT HAVE A ROCKET!

G [scandalized]: ELON MUSK?

L: Yeah!

G: THAT WAS GENUINELY HURTFUL.

L: You bet it was! And I got a lot more where that came from!

G: “I HATE TO CRITICIZE A GENERALLY SUPERB PROGRESSIVE PODCAST, ESPECIALLY SINCE MY SON IS ONE OF THE PRESENTERS, BUT…”

D: Oh, God.

R: Is that…?

A: It’s Liam’s dad!

G: “EUROCENTRIC THINKING SHOULD BE DENOUNCED. INFRASTRUCTURE IS NOT JUST AEUROPEAN THING? WHEN WHITE PEOPLE SHOWED UP IN THE US IN THE 17TH CENTURY ANDNEEDED TO BUILD ROADS TO CONNECT WHAT WOULD BE LARGE POLLUTED CONGESTED CITIES 4 CENTURIES LATER, THEY FOUND, OF ALL THINGS, INDIGENOUS PEOPLE’S ROADS A/K/A INDIAN TRAILS. THESE ROADS WERE GRADUALLY WIDENED, PAVED, AND GIVEN ROUTE NUMBERS. MOST OF THIS HAD TO WAIT UNTIL RTHNIC CLEANSING AND THE INVENTION OF THE AUTOMOBILE WERE ACCOMPLISHED. TRY STATE ROUTE 2 PARENTHESIS MOHAWK THE MOHAWK TRAIL CLOSE PARENTHESIS COMMA.”

A: Liam…? Are you okay…?

L [tearfully]: That was valid, sincere criticism from an honorable man — AND YOU ARE NONE OF THOSE THINGS, YOU PLAGIARIZING BITCH-BASTARD!

G: IT WAS VERY POORLY FORMATTED.

L: It was BEAUTIFULLY formatted! I JUST COME FROM A LONG LINE OF PASSIONATE MEN! And when I see my dad again — and I WILL, because you’re going DOWN IN FLAMES — I’m going to give him a BIG HUG!

[applause, cheering from the rest of WTYP]

VINZ CLORTHO (V): We are valid.

A: Fuck! Shit! Where did that come from?

R: They’re eating the pancakes.

ZUUL (Z): [hissing]

R: We’re eating the pancakes, sorry.

V: You have hurt our feelings.

L: You’re trying to kill us! [clearing throat] Alice, do you have a cough drop or something?

A: Eat this cigarette. They work for me.

V: You must die so the new world can be born.

Z: A new world with more tummy rubs.

L: What? I will rub your tummies right now!

Z: [hisses]

V: No. We do not like you anymore. [to Rocz] Die well, doughnut-giver.

G: SINCE WE ARE ONCE AGAIN AT AN IMPASSE, I AM [sigh] ONCE AGAIN OFFERING THE CHANCE TO CHOOSE A NEW FORM.

R: No.

D: We’re fine.

G: NOT EVEN INTO SOMETHING THAT ISN’T COVERED IN PURÉED HORSE AND RAT?

A: No, this… This is great. We like this.

L: We eat horse and rat pancakes for breakfast!

V [faintly, mouth full]: We have much in common, you and us. It is a shame you must die!

G: ALL RIGHT. AND WAITING BEHIND DOOR NUMBER “FUCK YOU,” YOUR NEXT ENGINEERING DISASTER IS…?

WTYP, together: The Frankford Junction Wreck!

R: For some reason.

Part 9

#wtyp #well there's your problem #ghostbusters #long reads #fanfic #fanfiction #crossover fic #gozer the gozerian #alice caldwell-kelly #liam anderson #justin roczniak #devon #engineering disasters #podcast

3 notes · View notes

lazyrabbit755 · 1 year

Text

Ok so I finished Wednesday...

So first of all I wanna start by saying I really liked the series. I'm gonna go into detail about what I liked and didn't like and what I want to see improved in later seasons (assuming there are any). But overall no matter my criticisms overall I really liked the show as a whole! You might be asking yourself why I'm not just writing a review on IMDB or something? To which my reasoning is that this is my little blog and I am going to exercise my right to rant about my stupid little obsessions on the internet as much as I want!

Just a heads up I am going to go into spoilers so I would highly encourage you to watch the show first and come to your own decisions before reading what some rando on the internet has to say about it. Now with that out of the way, let's get into it...

The Good:

Obviously the art direction is great, I mean it's Tim Burton directing an Addams Family reboot, that's a match made in heaven! The characters were wonderful, I honestly think they carried the show imo. Eugene and Thing were some standouts to me although of course Bianca, Enid and Wednesday were my favorites. I just really feel like Eugene was like the MVP and like was consistently one of the nicest characters both to Wednesday and the other characters (although the scene where he barfs all over the pilgrim bullies was kinda dated, really felt like I was watching an early 2000s movie making fat jokes in poor taste) The music score was lovely it really sold the whole "Goth Girl Hogwarts" vibe which I don't mean as a jab towards Goths cause I'm obviously here for that or I wouldn't be writing about this show.

The not so good:

Tbh the whole teen romance subplot wasn't doing it for me. I mean I get why they wrote it in but it felt kinda forced at times ngl. Like having Wednesday go back and forth between Tyler and Xavier, (the two most boring "straight guy" names of all time btw) after a while it felt like writers ran out of excuses on why Wednesday would be leaving one of the boys hanging while pursuing the other. Yes a lot of people have complained about how boring in general Xavier and Tyler were as characters and I agree! You had on one had an artsy loner boyfriend who has psychic abilities and the power to LITERALLY MAKE HIS DRAWINGS COME TO LIFE and they managed to make him uninteresting and kinda unlikable (that last one being more subjective to myself but you get the point). And on the other hand a literal serial killer boyfriend who turns into a 10ft tall monster with a mommy kink. And like just saying the whole idea that Laurel controls Tyler because she told him the truth about his mother also being a Hyde was kinda weak. Like just say the kid has mommy issues!

In all honesty the main gripe that I have with the show is actually about Wednesday herself. She didn't really get that much character development throughout the season. YES her relationship with Enid was very cute and I love Enid...BUT...the show even acknowledges that Wednesday is kinda a jerk to her friends. Enid straight up tells her to her face that she doesn't like the way she treats her, bringing her along to dangerous investigations and tricking her with the promise of a girls night out. And before we knew that Tyler was the real killer he was in the same boat. I mean she leads him on prioritizing herself first and her investigation and uses him to get what she wants. Same with Xavier who REALLY got the short end of the stick getting PUT IN FUCKING JAIL (even if it was only for a night or so). It felt like towards the second half of the season that Wednesday was going through a series of selfish decisions and having characters highlight them to her face so that she could reflect on her bad actions and grow as a character. But instead of giving us that payoff she literally doesn't grow OR APOLOGIZE to basically anyone! And when she does apologize it's weak as hell! Instead most of the characters she treats like crap come to her and apologize or attempt to rekindle their relationship. I MEAN FOR GOD'S SAKE Enid literally tells Wednesday TO HER FACE, that she is the one making most of the effort in their friendship and instead of apologizing, Wednesday just tells her she doesn't need friends and that she's a gigachad alpha. And Enid just comes back like an episode later and has a change of heart. And her "apology" to Xavier was just pathetic. He just sorta forgave her for everything after being justifiably pissed the fuck off at her for ruining his life and then suddenly forgives her for everything because she took an arrow to the shoulder for him.

Like it feels like the writers ran out of time or something, like they wanted her relationship with Enid and the other characters to have more depth. Like most of the other side characters have at least decent character development arcs, like Enid and Bianca standing up to their Mothers. The thing is I like Wednesday as a character, contrary to what you might have just read I want to root for her! But the writers made it a bit hard towards the end. I know they wanted to sell the whole Goth girl, raven from teen titans, attitude but it's ok guys you can make her a little more likable.

Conclusions:

You may think that I have been a bit harsh or nitpicky about the show. Or perhaps you're thinking "Why the hell did this loser nobody write several paragraphs about some dumb teen drama Netflix show" to which my response is why are you still reading? YES I'm probably a bit harsh on this series or nitpicky but that's because I like it so much! When something that you enjoy is so close to being "perfect" (or at least really well done) it's all the more disappointing when it just barely falls short. If your favorite sports team loses by one point right before the final whistle you're even more crushed that you would've been if they had lost by 8 points.

To conclude despite the cheesy teen romance plot lines and boring ass love interests, I enjoyed my time with this show and if there are more seasons to come (which it's looking like there will be considering the success of the show) I want to see the show do better and improve upon it's previous seasons.

If you read all that borderline incomprehensible word vomit here's a gold star 🌟 you deserve it. 👍 And hey, Thanks for stopping by! I hope you have a great rest of your day/night and if you watched the show lemme know if you agreed with some stuff I said or you think I'm fucking insane for caring so much and writing all this. Either way it's just a show at the end of the day. :)

#wednesday #wednesday spoilers #wednesday series #netflix wednesday #enid sinclair #wednesday addams #the addams family #netflix series #netflix original

5 notes · View notes

youngjusticeslut · 2 years

Note

Honestly... I don't think having no Tim again but having the Batgirls is any better. We've gotten moments with all the other s2 team members this season, but no Tim. Last season, Tim literally only spoke in ONE episode. I just wish at this point they hadn't even introduced him, because I love his character but he always seems to get the short end of the stick.

I'm sorry :( Poor Cam Bowen, too, I know he wants to voice him so badly but the show hasn't really utilized Tim all that much 😫 Hoping your boy Timmy gets to show up and say quite a few lines at some point this arc!

#yj

8 notes · View notes

teenageread · 7 months

Text

Review: Dawn of Legends

Synopsis:

Prince Alexander of Macedon has battled both men and monsters, but his final war will determine his fate…and the future of mankind. While Macedon’s enemies close in from all corners of the earth, Alexander must fulfil one last prophecy that dictates only he—and he alone—can ensure humanity’s survival against the age of the deadly Spirit Eaters.

As the threads of fate draw Alexander closer to his destiny, an exiled queen will meet a runaway princess, a young sorceress will set the final path of her heart and generals will choose their final battles. Before the light of victory can shine, enemies must become allies, Death must be tamed and hearts must break.

Who will rise and who will die?

Plot:

Jacob is the Earth Blood. After killing Olympia, Kat uses the pin soaked in Jacob’s blood, killing Riel, freeing Alex, but also taking his Snake Blood away from him. When Alex, Heph, and Kat realize Jacob was the Earth Blood, it was too late, as Jacob from anger causes a flood that separates Kat and him from Alex and Heph. Reunited with Kat, Jacob and her spent time together to heal, learn more from their powers, and from each other, as Jacob wants to define their relationship, where Kat's heart told someone else to wait for her. With Kat now gone, Heph finds himself missing her, but has to focus on the task of keeping Alex alive. Meeting up with King Philip, Alex is to lead the army alongside his father, against the Greeks and Persians, as Macedon was going to become the world ruler. Cyn too gets a taste to rule, using her magic to disguise herself as a man, Cyn becomes General Pyrolithos and rules the kingdom that her foolish husband used to before he died. Teaming up with the local brothel, Pyrolithos starts to train the women to make an unstoppable army of Amazons. With one member, Zotashe, nine months pregnant and about to give birth, tells Pyrolithos about the spirit heathers, Pyrolithos knows it is his short of the glory and must capture it. With the fate of the world hanging in the balance of our heroes, the fight against the spirit eaters grows closer, as some of our heroes turn to legends, where others perish from the lands.

Thoughts:

I had my doubts that with so many characters that Eleanor Herman was going to leave some stories unresolved, but oh boy did they prove me wrong. Divided into five parts, with three epilogues, Herman was able to give up a conclusion to the story, and realistic endings for all our characters. With eleven different POVs (thirteen if you want to count Papari and Tim, and Cyn and Pyrolithos as separate), Herman did their best job yet at keeping the characters together, which allowed all the plotlines to move steadily and stay relevant. Our teams of Jacob and Kat, Heph and Alex, Zofia and Cyn; reminds me a lot of the first novel of having these characters sticking together and bringing out their character development through their conversations. For the first time in a long time, Jacob and Kat are back together, and Herman really dives deep into their relationship, and ends our triangle between Heph, Jacob, and Kat, as Kat finally chooses who she wants to end up with. Heph and Alex’s relationship is at similar ease as it was during the first novel, as Herman explores the depth of what their relationship could be, keeping the story historically accurate to the real Alexander the Great's life and love choices. Cyn’s character was the most difficult part of the book, as Herman made her fully into Pyrolithos, including he/him pronunciation, making it hard for Cyn’s character to develop when she was rarely herself. Zo, ah poor Z0. Of all the characters, Zo had it the hardest, which makes the ending for her the sweetest, as out of all the endings she has it the best, and honestly makes reading the novel with it. For a series ender, Herman did a fantastic job, tying up all loose ends, giving each character an ending they deserve, and one that can be described as bitter-sweet. This honestly was a fun series to read, with its only large negative would be the amount of character, however, you grow to love them all (yes, evening manipulating Olympia) and begin to enjoy the switching of point of views as a plot development device instead of resenting it.

Read more reviews: Goodreads

Buy the book: Amazon

#Dawn of Legends #Eleanor Herman #Blood of Gods and Royals #book review

0 notes

shelobussy · 3 years

Text

ASH’S TMA HURT/COMFORT/FLUFF REC LIST

For the gays. (And @damcrows who’s been dead for the past 24 hours. Rest in peace babe. Read some gay fic. Deny the inevitability of canon. <3)

___

the end, but the start (of all things that are left to do) by @ajkal2

Jon wakes up.

aka. mag200 tore out my heart

(Very smol, very short, very spoiler. Def recommend for anyone who just finished the podcast.)

remind me how to smile by @tamerofdarkstars

Jon is probably fine, just hiding out somewhere while the whole murder thing blows over and that's... fine. Martin is fine with that explanation. Really. He's got plenty to distract himself - like listening through the entire What the Ghost episode library, for example. Or watching Georgie Barker's Instagram livestreams.

(Yea this was in the last rec list, but you don’t understand THE ADMIRAL GIVES CUDDLES)

Chamomile by Dribbledscribbles

Whatever the ex-tea was, if it really had ever been that last bag of chamomile Martin claimed he’d found tucked in the back of the cupboard, it was fast now.

Martin had tried catching it, chasing it, blocking its way with shoebox lids and plates and an upended footstool, but the thing was just too quick. Jon knew as well as Knew that he might have left off the attempts completely if not for the creature’s preferred game.

The game was, See How Many Times I Can Push Martin Towards Cardiac Arrest Before He Comes at Me with The Broom.

(Scottish Honeymoon Era. Adorable and weird. A vampire gets harassed.)

hey stranger by @ennuijpg

It’s a late night Tesco run, how eventful could it be? It’s not like Martin is going to run into his boss who’s wearing something absurdly different from usual and get the most acute form of whiplash possible from seeing him, right?

(Martin runs into Jon at the grocery store and has an existential crisis.)

roses roses, roses. by @judesstfrancis

Rose scented laundry detergent. Running into Jon in the breakroom. Running into Jon on his way back to his desk. Rose scented detergent. Running into Jon. Roses. Jon. Roses, roses, roses.

(Canon enemies to friends to lovers au-ish. Martin POV. Very pining much sweet.)

go softly by doomcountry

And there is nothing else besides this.

(More hurt/comfort than fluff. Scottish Honeymoon Era. Mild eye mutilation.)

Not Alone by @backofthebookshelf

After the coffin, Daisy and Jon are both fragile. They hold each other up.

(Post-buried Jon&Daisy starter pack. Very hurt/comfort.)

trust my love by antlsepticeye

“you… you’re real, aren’t you?” jon whispers, the fog slowly dissipating from his mind. “it is not a trick?”

“i’m here,” martin says softly, reaching up to grab jon’s hand that was resting on his cheek, intertwining his fingers with jon’s and squeezing. he moves jon’s hand to martin’s chest, resting it over his heart. “you’re alright. i’m alright. take your time, love. let’s just take some deep breaths, okay?”

(TOUCHSTARVED JON HAS ENTERED THE CHAT.)

reaching out by Athina_Blaine

By the time things settled, when Martin had finally managed to crack through his cold shell, feel some of his old self returning to him in bits and pieces, they had found their little routine.

One that had the two of them sleeping in the same bed, making breakfast, going to the mart. Where Jon reached for his wrist while they slept, and Martin luxuriated in the gentle warmth of his fingers.

But not one where Martin reached back. One that had Martin kissing Jon awake or taking his hand over the breakfast table, because ... Martin never had the courage to try. And then it never became a part of the routine.

And Martin desperately wanted it to be.

Martin and Jon have an important conversation.

(More Scottish Honeymoon Era for the soul. Hurt/comfort/fluff.)

Belabor by @janekfan

Jon's given the position of Archivist and is falling apart at the seams. Tim and Sasha are upset and playing games. Elias is overbearing and manipulative.

And poor Martin is stuck cleaning up the mess.

(THEE first fic I ever read for tma. Season 1, hurt/comfort/fluff, and hints of Jmartin. janekfan is the absolute master of seasons 1-3 hurt/comfort. This is my favorite, but pls check out the rest of their fics.)

tea, blankets, and a damnable stubborn attitude by ivelostmyspectacles

“Are you really gonna stay here and pester Jon all evening?”

“I’m not pestering him,” Martin retorted, sounding vehement if not busy going through the cupboards. “I’m heating up soup.”

“Oh, you might as well make him another cup of tea while you’re at it.”

“Oh, good idea.”

Jon shot Tim a withering look.

(The one where Jon is ill, Martin makes tea and they watch doctor who together. Fluff 1000%.)

A Kind Hand by @voiceless-terror

Jonathan Sims was adjusting just fine, thank you very much.

In which a minor workplace spill causes Jon to realize that he might have friends.

(Ah yes, the other master of seasons 1-3 fic aka voiceless-terror being my other fav author in the fandom. This one is also season 1 hurt/comfort/fluff.)

A Weather In The Flesh by @cuttoothed

"There is a span of years where Jon doesn’t touch anyone other than the occasional hand shake. It’s not so bad. He’s never been someone who’s needed physical affection."

Jon has never been any good at making people want to stick around.

(More touched starved Jon! Much hurt/comfort!)

Something Old, Something New by @cirrus-grey

Months have passed, and everyone is doing better than they were. Daisy and Basira are getting married, Melanie is feeling her old self, Georgie is as much herself as she has ever been, and even Jon has stabilized on his wild fall away from humanity. Everyone is doing better.

Well. Almost everyone.

(Daisy/Barsira wedding! Melanie is a bitch and we love her! Jmartin dance! Post-canon (almost) everyone lives!)

The Weight of Love by @voiceless-terror

Jon is a restless sleeper. Martin attempts to adjust.

(The fic where Jon is literally me and Martin attempts to sleep for 1k words.)

The Art of Conversation by @voiceless-terror

"Do you ever stop talking?"

Jon has a complicated relationship with words. Difficulties come and go.

(Jon has adhd and Martin is in love.)

Novelty by @backofthebookshelf

Jon experiences A Sexual Attraction; Martin has A Concern. They figure it out.

(Any fic that explores the ace spectrum is a 10/10. We stan all ace interpretations of jon on this blog.)

Half a Hug by Dathen

I know you weren’t going to hurt me, I trust you, he said again and again. And then a different kind of fear shone through, hollow and echoing: “Please don’t stop touching me."

Or: Life is hard when you're touch-starved but have trauma related to your closest friend. Spoilers through TMA 132.

(Honestly bless every author who saw jon&daisy and was like. They’re siblings. No I will not elaborate.)

the loneliness never left me (but i can put it down in the pleasure of your company) by Athina_Blaine

It was about Martin making Jon feel safe, treasured, and loved. And it had been so, so long since anyone made him feel that way.

And, in the face of it all, Jon was starting to flounder.

(At this point I just need to make separate rec list for Scottish Honeymoon Era.)

you can watch me corrode by scarletfish

"So, how long have you been pulling this shit then?"

"I… excuse me?" Jon’s indignant, certain she can’t mean what he thinks she means.

"When was the last time you ate?"

(Georgie decides Jon and Melanie need a normal day off. Jon learns that he and Melanie have more in common than he thought.)

(Look, Melanie isn’t my favorite person in tma, but she and Jon are like THE SAME PERSON and I adore fics that elaborate on their relationship.)

Out of the Wind, In From the Cold by @ostentenacity

There are two bedrooms in the safehouse, and two beds.

For a moment, Jon considers asking to share, but decides against it with a wince. “I really loved you,” Martin had told him. Loved. Past tense. And Martin doesn’t exactly have a lot of choices right now in terms of company; it would be cruel to demand he play at feelings he no longer has just to make Jon happy.

(For a moment, Martin considers asking to share. But he dismisses the idea with a shake of his head. Jon has already done so much for him. Martin isn’t about to ask for more, especially not when it’s something he doesn’t really need. He has his right mind back, and he has Jon’s friendship. That should be enough for him. It’ll have to be.)

---

Jon thinks that Martin doesn’t love him. Martin thinks that Jon doesn’t love him. They do not, of course, discuss this. Unrequited love is already awkward enough, right? No need to dwell on it.

(THEE SCOTTISH HONEYMOON ERA FIC. IT’S ABOUT THE PINING, BEING MUTUALLY OBLIVIOUS AND FALLING IN LOVE. 10000/10.)

I Do by @voiceless-terror

“I, um- this was supposed to be a lot more romantic, I swear.” Martin looks down at the dirty bar floor. “I had it all planned out, I-I was going to take you somewhere nice, and then we’d go for a walk in the square- I’ll still do it!” He hurries to explain, as if that’s the most pressing part of this situation. “It’ll be really nice, I’ve already hired a photographer-”

In a fit of protectiveness, Martin proposes to Jon.

(Everyone lives, Martin accidentally proposes and Jon is crying in public.)

________

#lmao follow for more fic recs #ash recs #ash's rec list #ash recs fics #tma fic list #tma fics #jmart #jmartin #jon sims #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tma fic recs

378 notes · View notes

cdelphiki · 4 years

Text

“Fuck.”

Jason’s spoon clanked into his bowl, as he dropped it and fumbled for the remote. He’d been watching Jeopardy! with the volume low. Half the fun of the game was answering the questions himself, and really, the idiots on the show were often just distracting.

But Jeopardy! wasn’t on the screen anymore.

The Joker was.

The Joker and the current Robin.

“—play a game, shall we?” Joker said, and Jason just cursed louder as he tossed his cereal on the coffee table and jumped up.

“Hrnn,” Robin groaned, when the camera panned to him, “Who’d want to play with you?”

Fucking brat.

The poor kid looked in rough shape. His mask was slightly ripped, showing off a massive bruise right under one of his eyes. His fat lip and the blood trickling down his chin didn’t help much, either.

Oh, yeah. And the fact he was tied up and inside a tiny little cage.

How the hell had Joker got his hands on Robin?

Never mind, Jason thought, as he kicked around the shit on his floor, freeing the various pieces of his Red Hood uniform, he knew exactly how Robin got himself captured.

Batman was out of town.

And he’d left Robin in charge of Gotham.

Like a fucking moron.

“Uh, uh uh,” Joker said, “That’s no way to behave. Be a good little birdy.”

Robin groaned, when Joker stuck a stick inside Robin’s cage, and jabbed him in the side. He pressed a button, and Tim’s groan turned to a scream as he was electrocuted.

Jason grimaced.

“Now,” Joker continued, through a laugh, “The answer is ‘Topeka.’”

Joker’s stupid fucking laugh.

Jason should not be helping the bats.

He did not help the bats. The bats hated him. And, sure, they had good reason to, but it just meant Jason shouldn’t be helping them out of principle!

Why help people who hate your guts and wish you were still dead?

The bats are out of town, his mind helpfully reminded him, they can’t save Robin. And like hell was Jason going to let Joker kill another Robin.

“Shit,” he mumbled, as he grabbed his helmet and shoved it on his head. All he needed was his guns, now.

“Come now, Robin,” Joker said, “You’re disappointing the viewers at home.”

“No, you’re disappointing the viewers,” Jason snapped, as he placed three guns into his holsters, and grabbed his spare magazines, checking to make sure each was full. “No one wants to watch the fucking Joker fuck with a little kid.”

Even if that little kid was Tim Drake. And annoying as fuck.

The camera zoomed back on Robin’s face, and Robin finally mumbled out, “Capital of Kansas.”

Robin screamed, again, when Joker jabbed him with the shock stick, and Jason growled.

He grabbed his tablet and hacked into the batcomputer in record time. He wasn’t sure if Bruce knew he could still do that, but at the moment he was fucking glad he hadn’t been caught yet.

“You didn’t phrase your answer in the form of a question! Haven’t you ever watched Jeopardy!? That’s what the good folks want right now.”

“Fuck, kid,” Jason mumbled, as he triangulated a location on Robin’s tracker, “Where are you?”

Only Robin’s tracker was listed in Gotham, too. No one else was around. Not Alfred. Not Batgirl. No one.

Why the fuck did Bruce keep leaving Robin all alone?

Hadn’t he learned his lesson the first time?

Tim groaned on screen again, making Jason draw his gun and unload the full clip on the screen.

Shit.

His neighbors probably hated him.

“Where are you,” he growled at the tablet, just as Robin’s location finished loading.

Warehouse in Crime Alley.

Not even five blocks from Jason’s safe house.

Good.

- - -

The Joker had almost no henchmen guarding his warehouse.

Usually Joker’s operations were more thought through. Right?

This time it was just pathetic.

How in the ever-loving-fuck had he got his hands on Robin, anyway?

It took Jason not even ten minutes to reach the warehouse, break in, and incapacitate all ten of his thugs. It took only another fifteen seconds to climb up into the rafters, into the main area where Joker was ‘filming’ with Robin.

“Now, Robin,” Joker said, his his annoying high pitched drawl, “You are down in the negatives. You need to get this next answer correct or—”

Jason didn’t let him finish the thought.

Because he shot the Joker in the ass.

“Shut the fuck up,” Red Hood snarled, as he dropped down from the rafters, right on top of Joker, “No one cares as much as you think.”

“Hood,” Joker said, grinning wide, despite all the blood leaking out of him.

Or, well. Not much. Jason should shoot him again.

Robin would get all high and mighty, if Jason actually killed Joker.

Fucking hell.

“How nice of you to drop by!” Joker said, laughing, “We could use a second contestant.”

Yeah. Sure.

Jason brought his elbow down into Joker’s face. Hard. Breaking his nose and knocking him flat out.

“How disappointing,” Jason said, as he stood up and turned toward Robin, “That wasn’t nearly as satisfying as shooting him in the face would have been.”

Robin stayed laying there, where he was, curled up in his cage, clutching his stomach tight.

Whistling, Jason crossed the room and tried to get Tim’s attention. “Yo. Half-pint, you all right there?”

Tim didn’t react, other than to curl up tighter when Jason approached the cage and put a hand on one of the bars.

“Shit,” he mumbled, “Okay, kid. I’ll get you out.”

Ridiculously, it took longer to figure out a way to get Tim out of the cage.

He tried to pry the fucking lock open with a crowbar he found laying around…

Joker and his fucking crowbars.

But the lock wouldn’t budge, and the stupid replacement Robin kept flinching every time Jason got too near. Which, should have probably made Jason feel bad.

If he were, like, a good person.

Instead it just pissed him off enough that he grabbed the crowbar and started bashing it against the lock, until the damn thing fell off.

“Okay,” Jason said as he opened the cage door, “Tell me what the damage is, kid.”

Robin didn’t respond, so Jason reached in and placed one gloved hand on his shoulder. All he was going to do was shake it, a little. Just to make sure the kid was alive. And like, just out of it.

But apparently Robin was super out of it, because instead of growl at him or snap some dumbass quip, he jumped up and punched Jason right in the stomach.

“Fuck,” he huffed. The little sucker packed a mean one, but he was too damn out of it for it to do more than make Jason wince. “The fuck, kid? Knock it off.”

Tim jumped up, however, on top of the cage, then wobbled there as he tried to right his balance. The second Jason tried to reach out to him, to catch him before he toppled over, or some shit, Tim pulled out a couple of his stupid R shaped throwing stars and started throwing them.

“Shit,” Jason growled, as he dodged, “Kid, knock it off.”

“What do you want?” Robin asked, and with that, apparently reached the end of his spike of adrenaline.

Because the next thing Jason knew, Robin was falling off the cage bars he’d been perched on, and Jason had barely enough time to dive the few feet between them and catch the stupid runt before he landed on the concrete ground, head first.

“Get off me,” Robin demanded, thrashing about in Jason’s hold.

All it made Jason do was squeeze his arms around Tim tighter.

“Stop,” Tim said, his voice getting a little more desperate, “Get off.”

“Ow,” Jason complained, when Tim kicked him in the knee, “Would you knock it off. Am I hurting you?”

Tim stilled, for a second, and seemed to evaluate the situation. Jason was still holding onto him, but he loosed his arms a little.

“No?” Tim asked, like he wasn’t sure if that were the correct answer, or something.

Stupid brat. And they accused Jason of shooting first, asking questions later.

“Then why the fuck are you fighting me?” Jason demanded.

“You’re…” Tim said, then paused as he put a hand up to his head. Shit. Jason needed to get him back to a safe house and checked out.

Letting go of Tim completely, Jason set him down and maneuvered, so he was kneeling in front of the stupid runt. He put a hand on Tim’s head and forced his head back, a little, so Jason could get a good look at it. He could see one of Tim’s eyes, due to his mask having so much damage on it, and it looked like Tim was at least making eye contact.

Or, at least. As much eye contact as he could when Jason was wearing a helmet.

“You’re the Red Hood?” Tim finally answered.

Jason merely huffed. “Yeah. And you’re the boy hostage. Where are you hurt?”

“What?” Tim demanded, “Why do you care?” and Jason rolled his eyes.

“Like I’m gonna let Joker kill you. That’s my job.”

Okay.

Wrong thing to say.

Because Tim’s eye grew wide, and he shuffled backward, out of Jason’s reach, kicking his feet.

Jason tried to grab his feet, to make him stop, but Tim kept kicking, and got Jason right in the ribs.

“Ouch, stop it. I was kidding.” Tim got him on the chin, and Jason snapped, “Just stop. I’m trying to help you.”

“Why,” Tim demanded, as Jason finally caught one of his legs and held it up high enough that Tim lost his balance.

It was kind of amusing, how Tim landed on his back, and just groaned.

“Why’s there gotta be a reason?” he asked, “Maybe I don’t want to see another Robin die!”

“You beat me near to death like two minutes ago,” Tim shouted, pulling at his foot, and not succeeding in freeing himself.

Because Jason was standing, and Tim was short. It would be no trouble at all for Jason to just lift Tim right up off the ground entirely by his leg.

“It’s been four months, stop being dramatic.”

“You expect me to believe you’ve changed enough since then that it matters?” Tim demanded, just as he pulled another throwing star out and threw it at Jason.

Too bad for Tim, Jason saw it coming a mile away. And just caught it.

“Yep!” he cheered, “You done now? You’re, like, super out if it and your fight sucks. If you couldn’t tell.”

Robin mumbled something Jason didn’t catch, so Jason dropped his foot, and tried not to grin too wide when Tim groaned when his body hit the ground.

He didn’t fall too far.

And Jason was sure his head and upper back had been on the ground, already, before he let go.

“Can you walk on your own?” he asked.

Once Tim stopped being all dramatic about everything, he grumbled out a, “No,” so Jason knelt down next to him and offered a hand, to help Tim sit up.

Tim glared at him with so much derision, it risked making Jason laugh.

Instead, all he said was, “Then stop fucking fighting me and let me help.”

“Fine,” Tim snapped, lifting an arm up so Jason could wrap it around Jason’s shoulders, “But if you try anything, I’m calling for Superman.”

“Whatever,” Jason said, as he hefted Tim to his feet, and started making toward the warehouse exit, “Just shut up and let me get you out of here.”

Tim was in pretty rough shape.

Jason already knew that, of course, but it became even more obvious as they made their way back to Jason’s safe house.

Mostly because Jason did all the fucking work.

Tim’s left leg was obviously fucked up. Jason was a little glad he hadn’t held that leg up in the air, because then he’d feel guilty.

And that wasn’t it. He kept clutching at his stomach, and Jason was willing to bet there was at least some pretty bad burns there from all the zapping.

Dragging Tim’s ass up the side of Jason’s building was easy, of course. But annoying. Because Jason had to hold onto Tim tight, because the stupid brat’s grip kept loosening whenever Jason jostled him too much.

“Shit kid,” Jason mumbled, as he pushed Tim through the window to his safe house, “I can’t believe Bruce leaves his fucking kid all alone to protect Gotham when he’s out of town.”

Because, seriously.

This was ridiculous.

Tim was fucked up. And it was all Bruce’s fault.

“M’not his kid,” Tim mumbled, as he stumbled a few feet inside Jason’s safe house, over to the couch. He collapsed down with an oof.

Jason rolled his eyes and closed the window behind him, after he jumped inside. “You are too a kid,” he said, unsnapping his helmet and tossing it down on the ground, “You’re like, thirteen.”

Tim followed Jason with his eyes, even as he sank into the couch a little more, and said, “I’m fifteen. And I said I’m not his kid.”

“Fifteen!” Jason shouted, tossing his gloves on the ground. His safe house was pretty small, so his kitchen was his living room. And he, thankfully, had a pretty good first aid kit sitting in the cabinet under his sink. “That’s how old I was. And obviously I meant his son, you idiot.”

“I’m not his son either,” Tim said.

Jason paused, as he was pulling his kit out, and looked up over the counter at the little brat.

“He didn’t adopt you?”

Hadn’t Talia said….?

How the fuck was he even Robin?

“No,” Tim exclaimed, “I have a dad.”

Is that why Bruce was more lenient on Tim? Because he wasn’t his son?

Bruce never let Jason out of his fucking sight as Robin.

He’d thought that was because he didn’t trust Jason, and clearly he trusted Tim.

But was it maybe because he’d adopted….

Nope. Not thinking about this.

“And he lets you run around with the bats?” Jason asked, finally crossing back over to Tim and slamming the first aid kit down on the coffee table.

Tim jumped, but then scowled at Jason and said, “It’s not like he can stop me.”

“Seriously, kid?”

“Look. It’s none of your business. Are you gonna let me go?”

In that state? Not bloody likely.

But instead of say that, and get Robin all fighty again, Jason said, “I’m not keeping you prisoner, but let me look at your injuries.”

Tim rolled his eyes, but sank back down into the couch and mumbled, “I’m fine.”

“Uh huh,” Jason said, pointing toward the stomach Tim was still clutching, “lemme see.”

It took a second of Tim glaring, but he finally relented and lifted his shirt, and Jason could only wince in sympathy.

“Damn, Timbo,” he said, looking at the criss crossing scorch marks littering his abdomen, “Those look fun. I’ve got some burn cream that should help.”

Jason worked on Tim’s injuries in silence for a good ten minutes. He had so many burns, Jason kind of wanted to go back and shoot Joker in the ass again, just for inflicting them.

And maybe go find Bruce and shoot him in the ass, for leaving Tim all alone for this to happen in the first place.

“That one needs stitches,” Jason said, after he’d pulled Tim’s sleeves up, inspecting his arms for any more burns to treat. Instead, he found a jagged knife wound, that was still oozing a little. “Did you think you could hide it from me?”

Tim pulled his arm closer to himself, and mumbled, “S’not that bad.”

Jason rolled his eyes, and pulled out his suture kit. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Amazingly, Tim didn’t fight him at all, when he took his arm back and started cleaning the wound enough so he could apply the local anesthetic and start stitching it up.

Instead, all Tim did was stare at him, a little blankly.

It was actually unnerving.

“What?” he snapped.

“Why are you doing this?”

“I told you,” Jason scoffed, readjusting his hold on Tim’s arm so he could get the last few stitches in straight, “I’m not letting Joker kill another Robin.”

And, sure. Stitching the kid up and treating all his burns was going a little above and beyond.

But Jason would feel a little bad if he, like, bled to death or whatever.

“Yeah,” Tim said, blinking hard as he ran his free hand through his hair, “But like, you coulda just took him out and left. Why’re you— ow.”

“Whoops,” Jason said, bearing his teeth a little as he grinned at the accidental needle prick he gave Tim outside the numbed area, “Are you seriously complaining? Don’t you know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth?”

Tim was rich, wasn’t he? Weren’t they taught that shit, too?

Jason was pretty sure Bruce never let him be ungrateful about gifts. Not that Jason would, of course. But even Bruce Wayne taught his kids to be thankful for what they had…

Then again. Tim apparently wasn’t Bruce’s kid…

“When that gift horse tries to kill us every other week, no,” Tim said.

“Shut up,” Jason scoffed, “I haven’t messed with you idiots in months.”

Which was, absolutely, completely, 89% true.

He hadn’t attempted anything fatal on them in months. Fucked with their cases for the laughs? Maybe.

Mostly just Bruce’s. When it didn’t get anyone hurt, of course.

Just because it was fun to fuck with Bruce.

Because fuck Bruce.

“Yeah, but— ow.”

Jason might have stabbed him again.

“All done,” he said, before Tim could get out whatever it was he was going to protest, “Congratulations, you’ll survive. You can sleep here. I’m burning the safe house tomorrow, though.”

He’d shot the TV. So it was pretty useless now, anyway.

“Next time you get captured by the Joker, I’m shooting you in the ass, got it?”

“Yeah,” Tim said, rolling his eyes as he settled back on the couch a little more comfortably, “Whatever.”

Jason watched as Tim pulled his legs up and clearly just… collapsed there. To sleep. And rolled his eyes even harder.

Like that would be comfortable.

On his way to the window, after he’d put his helmet back on, Jason grabbed the blanket and pillow from under the coffee table and threw it right at Tim’s head.

Tim scowled, but did readjust himself so he looked at least slightly more comfortable.

Satisfied, Jason nodded and said, “Kay. Tell Bats I said fuck him. Later, squirt.”

“Thanks, Jason,” Tim mumbled, just as Jason was slipping out of the window.

Heh. The runt wasn’t so bad, after all.

Maybe.

But Jason was not going to make a habit of this. No way.

If he did, he’d have to go shoot Batman in the ass, for letting his stupid little Robin get hurt.

That would be fun, actually.

#whumptober2020 #no.4 #caged #batman #batfam #red hood #robin #tim drake #jason todd #c writes #fanfiction #injuries #hurt/comfort #batbros #cross posted to ao3

870 notes · View notes

ectonurites · 2 years

Note

You know that Fitzmartin also write FS:Robin Eternal, and said that she like Steph and her relationship with Tim in the interview. But then made them break up in Urban Legend. That's kinda sus tho

it's not 'sus' (also sidenote- i hate that phrase i know its a meme from like among us or whatever but sdfgfdhgf i can not take it seriously) like, you can like a relationship but also want to tell a new story that goes in a different direction! Those things can coexist.

In the interview she specifically did around when Future State: Robin Eternal was coming out, her exact quote was:

"I’ve [also] always really liked Tim, I think in part because he was in Batman: The Animated Series. But the more I was getting into Tim even for [Robin Eternal], the more I was like, “This poor child.” I recognized this desire to do good, especially with his relationship with Stephanie. Tim and Stephanie are so interesting to me as a dynamic. Stephanie is so unapologetically herself, and a mess, and living her best life, which is also a mess. Tim is, I think, drawn to that aspect of her and it’s so cool. Even growing up, I was like, this is so cool to see the struggle of these two characters. I think Stephanie was who I wanted to be, and Tim was sort of who I felt that I was." (source)

Which... again, liking the dynamic but still breaking it off to tell a different story (because she wanted to explore identity with Tim and a story about him realizing he's queer was what she thought the best way to do that was) isn't a weird thing to do? Especially because her Future State story while it explored some Tim & Steph dynamic stuff absolutely wasn't showing them like... particularly actively in a relationship either?

Fitzmartin in multiple places has talked about how much she likes Steph, so if this is trying to paint her as having some sort of thing against Steph for how she handled the pairing in Urban Legends... that just feels wild to me. How much she likes and respects her as a character is actually part of why Steph didn't show up that much in the Urban Legends story, I thought it was pretty interesting what Fitzmartin said on the subject:

To once again pull from that same podcast interview i keep referencing

starting at 23:24

Interviewer: Many fans are upset that Stephanie and Tim broke off- up off-panel and him being queer is being seen as some- uh, by some as invalidating their previous romance. Can you speak to these fans mindsets, and how it was decided to handle Steph and their relationship in Urban Legends and Robin Eternal Fitzmartin: Um! So... part of, uh, I love Stephanie. I have loved Stephanie- Interviewer [overlapping]: Yeah! Fitzmartin: For forever, and I will always love Stephanie. She is amazing and, uh, gets the short end of the stick... almost all the time. Interviewer [overlapping]: Yes. Fitzmartin: Um, and in part of her getting the short end of the stick she is sometimes used as and-and was written thusly to be um, a... a female explainer for Robin- or for Tim Drake specifically- and I don't love that for her. Because I want more for her than to just be like... 'Ah yes, let me explain to you Tim Drake- let me be a story function for Tim.' Um and I didn't... I didn't want their breakup to be part of that. Also, to be perfectly honest, it was 10 pages. Who- I don't- there was-It was a very very small amount of space. Interviewer: [laughs] Second Interviewer [overlapping]: Right. Fitzmartin: Um. So I think like- those two things together I was like, this is Tim's story like, a- and that this has to be about sort of Tim and- and working through that, um because I think- I think too highly of Stephanie to like, have her be, um, the- the thing that props Tim up, d'ya know what I mean? Interviewer: Yeah, absolutely, yeah. Fitzmartin: Um also once again. 10 pages. 10 pages per story I was like- we gotta- gotta get in, gotta get out!

idk. the overall point of you sending this message confuses me, anon, I don't really get what point you're trying to make. I don't see what's 'sus' about any of this. 🤷‍♂️

also ok i wrote my answer to that late last night and put it in my drafts, and since waking up also got this on a similar subject:

and while I definitely at first was not a fan of the TimSteph breakup happening offscreen I do after listening to the above bit of interview I just typed out understand the choice a lot more, even if it wasn’t my initial preference for how it could have been handled.

But ultimately I like both pairings, but the way I like TimSteph is personally never as an endgame type thing, I love their relationship as something important and influential for the two of them and their lives but not something that lasts forever. And honestly I think I’m gonna end up feeling kinda similarly about Bernard, where it’s an important relationship for Tim that makes him learn a lot about himself but I also don’t necessarily think it’ll be forever either. That’s in part because seeing any comic relationship for a teen character like Tim as more permanent feels silly to me, until they maybe someday let him get a bit older I doubt any specific relationship will be ‘the one’ forever

22 notes · View notes

winterwolf0916 · 4 years

Text

Batboys with a Short S/O

Dick:

Such a cheeky bastard when it comes to your height

“Dick help me with this!” And you’re just bouncing to get the object from the top of the fridge.

“Nah I prefer to enjoy the view.”

He’s not the only one who enjoys the view.

Before the two of you were dating, you would sometimes stare at his bubble butt which he’ll feel like someone was staring, turn around, and then you would just avert your eyes.

You never get caught.

He’s punny too

When people mention your height he just gasps and...

“She’s not short! She’s just fun-sized.”

Don’t get me started with stores.

If he’s paying for the groceries and you’re next to him, he’ll just look down into his wallet and be like-

“I believe we’re $3 short.”

Oh how much you wanted to smack him for embarrassing you like that

Forehead Kisses

He also loves to pick you up.

Throws you over his shoulder, places you on his shoulders in crowds, and places you on his lap at home.

At the end of the day, unlike his brothers, he’ll help you up the shelf.

But on patrol, he would check up on you to see if you’re safe on your nightly trip to the store.

If someone is going to try something, he tends to handle the situation by snatching the offender in silence so you don’t have to worry about anything.

Jason:

Type level 1 asshole

When you’re struggling for something on the shelf

-remember Jason is the tallest out of his brothers-

He would take that object...

“Aw thanks Jay-”

And place it a shelf higher.

“-Oh Screw you!”

He likes to see you mad

Oh I’m sorry

He likes to see you...

FIESTY

Like Dick, he throws you over his shoulder

Cuddling and fitting in one bed is never a problem

Hehe

You and Jason winning against his brothers in the game Chicken Fight

Make fun of him when he’s hitting his head against the door frame when he’s entering a room.

Him adoring you when you’re in his jackets or hoodies.

His clothes + your tiny physique = absolute perfection to him.

Best ways to mess around with you is by smacking your ass then run off as you chase after him with your short legs.

Like Dick, he checks on you during his patrol.

But if he isn’t there, he knows you can handle the situation.

I mean, he trained you so hard that you could actually flip him and catch him off guard when he’s not going easy on you.

But if something bad happens, like a villain decides to kidnap you and you can’t take them, then you click an alert on your phone that’ll not only notify Jason but also the Batfamily that you’re in deep doo doo.

Let’s just say, you’re in for a show.

You being more worried about the villain’s well being than your own because knowing your boyfriend…it’s not going to end pretty.

Jason will get very, I mean very angry and he won’t hold back to the smartass who decides to take his loved ones.

He might as well leave a message for the other villains....

Tim:

Aw you’re so adorable

but he’s SUCH

TEASE

Like when you both were ordering some food

“And what would the lady like?” The cashier asked.

“A small fry.” You facepalmed.

“Ok what about dessert-”

“-Strawberry shortcake.”

“TIM.”

When you’re helping Alfred cook meals, Timbo just pops in, takes a cookie, and stare at you.

“Do you want a stool hon?”

You throwing your wooden stick at the laughing boy

EVEN when you’re giving him a kiss he had the AUDACITY to even-

“Do you need a ladder?”

You pushing him and walking away all angry while he rushes to your side to apologize while chuckling.

He sometimes leans on you and make you an arm rest but you just elbow his dumbass to stop.

Gives you piggyback rides

Stays close to you in crowds.

When he loses you, he’ll always find you since he’s one hell of a detective.

But if you’re ever kidnapped, he’ll get a slight panic attack but always find you.

The funny thing is that he doesn’t give a shit when cornering the crook that decides to lay a finger on your hair.

He also trains you and gives you amazing spy gadgets for self defense.

You used to have peppers pray but now you got a penny in your pocket that you take out, click, and ta-dah! A bo-staff that comes with optional electricity currents.

Damian:

When you both were younger, you were taller than him by a mere 3 inches.

But believe me when I say this

When he is at the age of when his growth spurt ignites

He starts to make fun of your height.

“Oh I didn’t see you there L/n.”

“I was right in front of you, you troll.”

“Oh is this the last Caprisun you were trying to get from the self?”

“Yeah, can you give it to me, ple-”

“Finder’s keepers.”

But once he becomes 19 or so...he’s huge.

Taller than Jason and his dad.

Someone help your poor soul that you only grew a couple more inches while your significant other is tall as a mf mountain.

For arguments, even when you're right, you would shiver a little from him hoovering over you.

But don’t worry, he backs down when you’re right...sometimes...

Does he still make fun of your height?

Ofc!

It runs in the family, he’ll say something about your height here and there. but not as often as he did in the past.

Observe:

“Beloved.”

“Hm?”

“I didn’t know you could stoop so low for pickpocketing that dwarf back there.”

“What? I didn’t pickpocket-Ooooh...You think you’re so funny.”

He really loves you but he doesn’t like to do PDA.

The sole reason why doesn’t do it often is because you pull him down to your level.

If that ever happens he would glare at everyone around the perimeter to mind their own business.

When you hug him you can hear his heartbeat.

People are so confused of how you, a bright smol bean, is dating a tall, cold-hearted, and stoic man.

But if they are very curious for the answer, they prefer to ask you.

When you and Dami are both are outside on a sunny day, his shadow is your shade. You would tease him about that and he just walks faster so that you would suffer with him.

Like his brothers, he trained you to self defend and gave you emergency devices that you can activate if ever in tough situation.

But he still worries about you, he checks up on you from time to time.

If anyone dares to bring harm to you, he’s going to pull a Batman move.

Like if you’re walking back to your car and someone decides to hurt you or make a wrong move then Damian will legit dive down, grab the person in silence, and pull them back up to the roof for a “friendly” interrogation or leave them to hang upside down while the police finds them.

You getting kidnapped is pretty rare.

Considering the fact that he scares the hell out of Gotham(more than his dad),he hides any tracks of you interacting with him as batman, and most of the time you’re in the Manor.

847 notes · View notes

nightwingmyboi · 4 years

Note

Is it okay to ask for a short summary of the Ric Grayson arc? I want to read the comics but I don't really want to risk my temper and mental health. I just want to see which parts I can read without exploding.

Yeah, I feel that. It’s a bit of a frustrating read. Basically:

Dick is shot in the head, wakes up with amnesia due to drugs given to him by Dr. Haas.

Dr. Haas’ conditioning and manipulation, along with his family’s pushy behavior, make Dick hesitant about his family. Bruce showing Dick a video of him being shot in the head is the final nail in the coffin. Dick freaks out, and no longer wants anything to do with Nightwing or the family.

Dr. Haas suggests moving to Bludhaven. Dick does so, burning his old Nightwing hideout upon arrival.

Dick is homeless on the streets, and takes a job as a cab driver to get some cash. He often goes to Bea Bennett’s bar, and the two begin to form a relationship. Meanwhile, a cop finds Dick’s suits, and decides to form a squad of Nightwings.

Dick has violent, reoccurring nightmares, and goes to therapy sessions with the Scarecrow.

Dick helps the Nightwings beat Scarecrow, and reluctantly is let into the group.

Dick helps the Nightwings beat other crooks, including Duela Dent. As his relationship with Bea continues to develop, Dick tells her everything--about Robin, Nightwing, the amnesia, and his work with the Nightwings.

Eventually Cobb attacks, and Dick gets put into memory-altering googles that give him a new set of memories--life growing up as a Talon.

He is briefly a Talon, and is freed by a lucky hit to the googles.

Dick has debilitating migraines because of the two sets of memories, and goes to Dr. Haas for help, only to discover her connection to the Court. Dick tracks her down and retrieves a memory crystal--an important tool in controlling him.

The Joker gets the crystal, and implants Dick with a third set of memories, this one including his parents beating him and him becoming the Joker’s son.

Dick attacks Jason and then Barbara with Punchline’s help. Eventually, people are able to get the crystal away from the Joker, and Bea gives it to Dick so that he can free himself. He does so.

The family gives Dick a pat on the back, and the Nightwing suit.

Dick’s really been through the wringer. I wonder when the last time he’s eaten or slept is...on top of all the brainwashing that’s messing with his head, how is he even functioning. Give this boy a granola bar, aspirin, and a nap please DC.

If you want a more thorough breakdown, or to pick and choose comics to read, I figured it might be easier if I summarized by issue? Under the readmore.

Batman #55: Dick is shot in the head. The bullet makes a pfffft sound effect for whatever reason. The suffering begins.

Warning!! Get ready to be told over and over again in Dick’s internal narration that: a) Dick has amnesia b) he does NOT go by DICK c) he definitely doesn’t want to be Nightwing or be part of his family and d) he is a sad hobo man now. Onward.

Nightwing Annual #1: Dick talks to his doctor about how his recovery is going. In flashbacks, we are shown the aftermath of the shooting and Dick’s recovery in the hospital. There is a particularly stirring scene with Damian in Dick’s hospital room...but from there the family’s handling of the situation is poor. This is the issue where the family shows Dick the video of him getting his brains blown out to jog his memory. Dick freaks out, and leaves the manor in a panic, determined to have nothing more to do with his family or Nightwing.

Nightwing #50: Flashbacks to Dick’s time as Robin, fighting the Scarecrow. In the present, Dick tries to acclimate to his new life. We are given details of Dick’s condition, including his blackouts and his homeless status. Barbara tries to talk Ric into returning to the manor, and he refuses. The family concludes that there is nothing they can do. Dick burns down his Nightwing hideout.

Nightwing #51: A touching scene with Alfred, checking on Dick. A cop stumbles upon the burned Nightwing suits, and decides to become Nightwing himself. Dick continues to try and sort himself out. He is almost mugged, and accidentally breaks out some Nightwing moves, seriously injuring the mugger.

Nightwing #52-55: A group of cops decides to become Nightwing. Scarecrow continues to cause havoc in Bludhaven. Once again, Dick’s doctor is a supervillain--he goes to a therapy sessions with the Scarecrow. Bea and Dick’s relationship begins to take off; they are actually fairly sweet and have a fun dynamic, definitely a bright spot in these comics (that you’ll want to hold onto).

Nightwing #56: A bit of a turning point. Dick sees one of the Nightwing squad get hurt, and feels the need to step in--he doesn’t want anyone dying in his place. He helps the group beat Scarecrow.

Nightwing #57: Duela Dent comes to town. Barbara talks with Bea. The Nightwing’s give Dick permission to work with them, ironically :/ Dick helps them take down Duela Dent. Barbara meets up with Dick and apologizes to him for some of her behavior, then leaves.

Nightwing #58-61: The Nightwings “train” Dick (lol). They continue to question whether he is capable and can be trusted, oscillating between “wow he’s impressive!” to “I don’t know if the newbie’s ready for this” to “you’re no Nightwing.” Backstory time for the Nightwings, Dick’s relationship with Bea continues to grow (she gets him a phone, which he didn’t have before RIP) and the gang fights a living fire.

Nightwing #62-63: Dick continues to help the Nightwings. He lets Bea in on everything--the fact that he was Robin and Nightwing, that he was shot in the head and lost his memory, and that he is going out into the city to help the Nightwings when needed. She doesn’t like how he puts himself at risk, but supports him, saying that he can’t help but be a good person. The Court of Owls begins to close in, attacking one of the Nightwings.

Nightwing #64-67: Cobb attacks Bea, leading to a fight between Dick and Talon. Talon overpowers Dick, and forces him to wear memory-altering googles that implant a second life in his head--a life as a Talon. He briefly becomes a Talon, attacks the Nightwings, and is freed due to a lucky hit to the googles.

Nightwing #68: Cool Travis Moore art at the beginning of this one, detailing some of Dick’s true memories. Satisfying to see Dick beat Cobb up a little, and tell him that no one can define him but him. And despite all the crazy crap that just went down, Bea reaffirms that she’s willing to stick it out.

Nightwing #69-71: Memories of his two lives war in Dick’s head, causing debilitating headaches. Bea and Dick discover Dr. Haas is responsible for Dick’s memory loss, and Dick tracks her down. He manages to take a memory crystal from Haas--a key tool in controlling him--but it falls into the Joker’s hands shortly after. Joker uses it to implant new memories--memories of Dick by the Joker’s side as his son.

Red Hood and the Outlaws #48: A masked Dick Grayson attacks Jason. With Punchline’s help, Jason is knocked out.

Nightwing #72-73: Bea calls Barbara for help. Barbara tracks Dick down, only to be defeated by him and Punchline. Barbara wonders how Dick could do this to her (because he’s been brainwashed Barb) and is forced to fight Dick in a cage match. Dick’s internal narration has devolved into nonsensical sentence fragments :( He remembers his parents beating him, which is a heartbreaking thought. In the end, Barbara runs away to save a hospital. Dick runs into Jason and Tim.

Nightwing #74: Dick fights Jason and Tim. Barbara arrives and attacks the Joker, causing him to drop the crystal. Bea (ran from Bludhaven to try to help Dick) gives the crystal to Dick so that he can free himself. He does so. Batman arrives to say that “he’s ours again” and acts like Dick hadn’t just spent the last several comics being treated as an object to be passed around. The family barely reacts to Dick’s return. Bea runs back to Bludhaven, thinking that Ric no longer needs her. Overall, underwhelming and frustrating stuff here.

Batman #99: Batman hands Dick a Nightwing costume. Back to work.

#ask #ric grayson #dick grayson #nightwing #long post

257 notes · View notes

handsomepeacock · 7 years

Text

Thanks to @pandoranmama and @raganiazumi I fleshed out this AU so much more (choice feels, thank u guys)

This AU is called Sinner Child alternatively it could be called Green-Eyed Monster or even Murder Be Thy Name and it is a twin au for Jack and John

in which John kills Jack, grows an unhealthy obsession with his deceased twin and then assumes his identity.

Jack has blue eyes and John has green eyes and Tim’s life has become even more messed up.

Jack has always been the favorite and while normally that wouldn’t bother John because they always shared a strong bong and Jack would always make sure to include John, it weighed heavy on his mind when their father died and Jack was coddled to the point where he rarely even got to see his twin. It was always Poor Jack this and Poor Jack that but no one ever cast so much as a glance at John who silently suffered and allowed his resentment of his twin to grow.

It grew out of hand.

John sat at the riverbed staring off, lost in thought when Jack was finally able to get away from the rest of the family, he found John just sitting there and when he tried to speak to him to give him the attention he had been missing since their father’s death. John snapped. He punched Jack and wrestled him to the ground in a jealous rage. They ended up in the river and John held Jack under until he drowned.

Realizing what he had done he ran off straight to home and at first tried to tell his mother he didn’t see his brother but then changed his story to they were playing by the river when he decided to go swimming but he didn’t want to join him and came home after getting splashed. His mom knowing he was lying kept questioning him until John finally broke down and said he killed him and that he was so sorry and began to sob while his mom ran off to the river.

She reported Jack’s death as an accident and sent John to live with his gran.

His gran knowing what actually happened decided to beat that evil out of him, her favorite thing to use against him was to constantly bring up how he killed his twin.

“And what do I always say?” "You don’t abandon your family, or your twin…“ "And yet you did, you worthless little fleabag. You did, and look where it got poor Jack.” (-thank pandoranmama for this line)

John missed his twin so much, he did love him after all and he knew that he had only meant good when he came to him that day but he couldn’t take back what he did. He began to grow obsessed with his deceased twin especially since no one allowed him to forget what he had done all those years ago.

Soon John began to go by Jack, insisting people call him that and introducing himself as his twin even going as far as getting a blue contact lens. Years later only a few people knew “Jack” was actually John (his gran, a handful of people he knew when he was younger, and Harold Tassiter)

As soon as Jack could he invested in the body double program to get his twin back in a way. Poor Timothy never should have gotten involved, with his old identity erased and having to take on Jack’s persona for the public and John’s persona in private for a man not really there anymore he was doomed.

Jack gave “John” everything he could ever want, he was a good older brother but whenever Tim didn’t “remember” things correctly he would get beat to hell. Soon afterwards Jack would apologize to him and try to make it up to him because he doesn’t want his twin to hate him he could never live with that.

Tim knows how messed up this shit is so he tries to escape from Jack he even tells people he trusts about what he has learned about “Jack”

whenever he gets caught though…Jack just drugs him to keep him complacent and then he takes him back to his room, puts him back in his bed and locks him in there until he learns his lesson.

“You don’t abandon family. You don’t abandon your twin. Everything I do, I do for you, John.” (-pandoranmama)

———————–

John is disconnected from everyone because they all love and adore “Jack.” Not even Angel knows who he really is, she doesn’t even know her dad had a twin.

He has episodes of where he thinks he can hear and see his dead twin especially when he is sleep deprived. His blue-eyed twin showing up with a pale complexion, blue lips, and those ever bright blue eyes, water dripping from him as he tries to speak to John.

John gets violent when this happens, every emotion at once hits him and he doesn’t know how to cope, he thrashes whatever room he is in (mostly his office) until he is too exhausted to stand, to stay awake, he always passes out afterwards and wakes up with a killer migraine.

#major thought dump #fuckin new au #i need me some good writing abilities so i can really flesh this out #or turn it into a fic #i'm already gonna make it a header #dag nabbit #i got more to work on now #sinner child au #green-eyed monster au #murder by thy name au #(one of those names is gonna stick)#child death tw #child abuse tw #unhealthy obsessions tw #poor tim gets the short end of ever stick #i swear i love that boy

30 notes · View notes

voiceless-terror · 4 years

Text

Respite (The Magnus Archives)

Whumptober 2020 Day Twenty Three: Exhaustion

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Characters: Jonathan Sims, Sasha James, Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood, Elias Bouchard, Rosie

Summary: Archiving is hard work, but someone’s got to do it.

Or, five people who caught Jonathan Sims sleeping on the job.

“Alright Jon, I think I’m going to head out-oh.”

Sasha had been gone for five minutes, tops. And yet here was Jonathan Sims, fast asleep in his chair and using her messenger bag as a pillow. And snoring.

They worked late into the night on some hunch Jon had - once he got on a research kick, there was no stopping him. Sasha wasn’t much better. They encouraged the worst in each other sometimes, but that’s how they got their sterling reputations as researchers. So this was not an unfamiliar scene.

But it was ten at night and Sasha had been looking forward to finally getting home, putting her feet up and knocking back a glass of wine or two. They had hit a dead end and wouldn’t be able to continue until tomorrow, anyway. Jon had begrudgingly agreed and she popped over to the bathroom only to return to...this.

It couldn’t be comfortable. Her bag was covered in buttons and pins, some particularly pointy. It wasn’t exactly clean either; it had been thrown on one too many questionable surfaces in the past few months. But Jon seemed comfortable, if his open mouth and the tiny bit of drool currently on the front pouch were anything to go by. Gross.

She contemplated waking him up. He would want to head home soon as well, the trains became entirely unpredictable the later it got and they boarded at the same station. But something stopped her. Maybe it was the dark shadows under his eyes, the small, wheezing breaths. The way his brow slightly furrowed even in sleep. The crankiness that increased as the week went on. If anyone deserved a quick rest, it was him.

Sasha had been in the job for three years before Jon came on. She cut her teeth in Artefact Storage for the first six months- initially she’d been excited to delve into the dangerous and mysterious objects they had on site, but that excitement quickly faded into dread after a week on the job. She got the first transfer out into research, much more her speed. She was steadily making her way up the ladder and was now trusted to train new hires and interns. Ergo, Jon.

When she first met him, she honestly thought he wouldn’t make it far. He was fresh out of college, twitchy and short-tempered with an intermittent stutter. She didn’t fault him for that of course, but that didn’t save him from the judgment of others. No one wanted to get within a mile of him until Sasha volunteered her services in a rare moment of pity. His hand was dry and shook in hers when they were introduced; he was clearly not used to touch, though surely he must have shaken many a hand by now.

Sasha was good at teaching, though she wasn’t very interested in it. “You should teach!” so many of her friends and family members said. Sasha hated being told what to do even more than she hated teaching.

Jon was a difficult student. He had constant questions that Sasha patiently answered. He did not take criticism well, once getting up and walking away for an hour after Sasha fixed his grammar. He couldn’t seem to focus, which was not at all promising in a career that demanded it. Still, she worked with him as a sort of pet project. If she could make a functioning researcher out of Jon, she could prove herself worthy of respect and perhaps a promotion or two herself. So she figured out how Jon ticked- what worked for him and what didn’t. It took some hard work but Jon opened up bit by bit, giving her more insight into the person he was. And he wasn’t all that bad, once you got past the prickly exterior. He was whip-smart with a dry, clever humor that Sasha could appreciate. When he got on the trail of something interesting, he followed it to the end with a dogged determination. Sasha found herself opening up in turn, talking to him about her past jobs in academia and her frustrations with the Institute. They had a lot in common, it turned out. Both were academics at their core, finding debate and discussion endlessly entertaining. They both had a soft spot for nice wine and greasy pub food. And they were both constantly underestimated and overlooked- Sasha, as a woman in her field with a tendency towards “aggressive behavior” which in any man would just be called confidence and expertise, Jon with his inability to read social situations, the stutter in his voice that undermined his points, and the painful earnestness in every word he said, no matter how pointed. So yes, they got on. He made her laugh. That was hard to do these days.

Five more minutes, she promised, sitting back down at the table with a fond look to her companion. Thirty minutes later she woke him up, smiling at his panicked embarrassment and laughing in exhilaration as they ran to the station, just barely making the last train.

___________

What does Elias think he’s playing at, putting this poor young man in charge of the Archives?

Rosie had worked at the Magnus Institute for two decades and had seen many a manager come and go. She was Elias’s first and only secretary, coming in a bright-eyed young girl and now a tired, disillusioned woman firmly in middle age. You see a lot of things at the Institute. Sometimes you have to turn a blind eye.

When Gertrude Robinson went missing, Elias handled the situation with a bizarre aloofness that Rosie felt no need to question. Questioning things got you in trouble around here. But when he told Rosie of his plans for Jonathan Sims, she had to stop herself from scoffing. She had seen the way Elias spoke to him, mentoring him in a way he never had with any other employee. Perhaps he just had a fondness for the boy, though she wasn’t sure what he had done to earn it. Jon never got used to Elias’s presence, constantly jumping at a hand on his shoulder and laughing nervously through any of their conversations. It would be endearing if it wasn’t so pitiful.

But to make him Head Archivist? The man had only been here four years, there were plenty of other researchers and staff members who had not only seniority but the credentials to match. Jonathan Sims had an Oxford pedigree, impressive to be sure, but in Literature and History. It didn’t help that he seemed one missing file away from a nervous breakdown at all times. And they were going to give him an entire department to manage? A department that was in shambles and hadn’t been properly handled in the last fifty or so years? Good luck, kiddo.

She had been a little short with him the day he took the position- she had a monster of a headache and he wasn’t exactly making it easy on her, what with his questions about Gertrude and his ridiculous little proclamations of “I don’t believe in ghosts!” But the sincere gratitude in his voice as he told her to thank Elias for the opportunity came back to her hours later. You have no idea what you’re in for. It seemed almost sadistic to put a man like that in charge of the Archives.

The situation never seemed to improve. From what little she saw of him in the hallways, he always looked haggard and on edge. When he stood in front of Elias’s door waiting to be let in for another meeting (Elias had been scheduling a lot of them as of late), his hands fidgeted and his feet shuffled. She felt bad for him, when she remembered to. She had twenty years to get used to Elias, but he seemed to get worse with every visit to his office.

It was with a reluctant sigh that she took the paperwork from Elias and headed down to the Archives. Just a few things that slipped my mind on the last visit, so sorry Rosie. It was the end of the day and she was punctual to a fault, meaning she very rarely stayed past five unless Elias requested it. Even the Archives were empty- the assistants had all filtered out earlier and her footsteps echoed in silence as she made her way to the Head Archivist’s office.

“Mr. Sims?” she called, immediately regretting the choice of name. It sounded unnatural coming out of her mouth. “Jon, are you in there?” There was no one in his desk chair, though his bag and coat were still accounted for. She was not about to do a scavenger hunt through the Archives, the place gave her the creeps and it got worse with each passing minute. She contemplated just leaving them on his desk when she saw a half-opened door labeled “Document Storage.” I’ll just peek in, can’t hurt.

“Jon?” she called again, creaking open the door and peering inside. It was not very well-lit; half of the lights were flickering like something out of a horror film. No one answered her. “Jon, if you’re here I have a few papers for you to sign. I’ll just leave them on your desk-” It was then she noticed a cot in the corner. That’s not allowed, she thought testily. It was rumpled- somebody had used it recently, she deduced. And then she looked down to the floor to find one leg sticking out from under the cot. She shrieked, grabbing at her chest as she slowly made her way over, unsure of whether she was about to die or if she had to call an ambulance.

She kneeled down gingerly, her legs trembling as she found one Jonathan Sims entangled with a small, tattered blanket and snoring softly, completely lost to the world. She sighed in relief and no small amount of irritation- the man had just taken about three years off her life, at least. And what was he doing under the cot? Such a strange thing, that Jonathan Sims.

She reached out and grabbed his arm, giving it a good shake. “Jon!” He kept right on sleeping, completely ignorant to her entreaties. She gave him another, harder shake- nothing. This is ridiculous. She leaned in closer and opened her mouth to give one last deafening shriek of his name. “Jon!”

That did the trick. Too well, one might say.

Jon immediately sat up, which wasn’t a good idea- he only had a few inches of room left under the bed and ended up slamming his head against the metal rungs and leaning back down with a cry. “Agh!” he squeezed his eyes shut as she reached out her hand in apology.

“God, I’m so sorry,” she babbled, patting his arm. “It’s just, you weren’t waking up and- are you alright?” His silence was worrying. Oh god, Elias is going to murder me if I’ve killed his Archivist.

“Yes,” he hissed, awkwardly sliding out from under the bed in a sort of shimmying motion and rubbing at his forehead. Luckily he hadn’t broken any skin, it was just red at the point of impact. “What on earth- ah, Rosie!” The instant switch in tone as his eyes focused on her form would be amusing in any other situation. “So sorry, d-did Elias need anything from me?”

She paused, considering the man in front of her. He looked bad, really bad, like call-the-doctor-bad. Thinner than ever with dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn’t had a good nights’ sleep in weeks, if ever. And that look in his eyes, the change in his voice as soon as he noticed her- Elias had sway even through proxy. Suddenly Mr. Sims was all eager-to-please, as if he hadn’t just been caught collapsed under a bed in sheer exhaustion.

“What are you doing under there?” is what she asked, though she did not mean to. She wasn’t really supposed to care about anyone in the institute and she’d done a good job of it thus far. But something about this situation felt off, even to her.

He ran a hand through messy hair (he’s going gray so young) and gave her a self-deprecating smile. “Ah, just a- I’m just a bit tired, that’s all.” He made no attempt to explain his odd choice of napping area. “If you could please not tell Elias-”

“Of course,” she assured, again strangely protective of the silly little man in front of her. “Think nothing of it- just need you to sign a few papers, is all.” She got up to allow him room to move, ignoring the creaking of limbs far too young to sound so bad. “Should probably use the bed next time, dear. That floor’s got to be horrible on your back.”

Jon blushed, grabbing at the papers and looking anywhere but her eyes. “Yes, well,” he shifted his feet, gesturing at the tattered blanket he had extracted himself from. “I’ve got that, so it’s fine.”

She fixed him with a dubious stare, but let him have this one. He headed back to his office to grab a pen, limping in obvious pain. The papers were signed and they said their goodbyes, Rosie heading home and Jon heading back to Document Storage, whether to sleep or work she couldn’t tell.

In her next round of discretionary spending, she ordered a few pillows and a nice knitted throw for the Archives. The break room had been looking a bit drab, it deserved a little sprucing up.

______________

“Mr. Stoker, if you could come get your Archivist I’d be much obliged.”

“I’m on it, Janice.”

Tim sighed. Just another Wednesday night at the Magnus Institute.

Jon was running them ragged with investigations, following up on every statement he deemed ‘unsatisfactory’ in terms of research. So far, he had deemed almost every statement as so. It was not very fun.

Tim had taken pains to finish his research bright and early, wanting to get home as quickly as possible and finish up the series he’d been binging. This plan included the added plus of avoiding the worms that had been showing up outside the institute over the past couple of days. But then Jon had come out of his office, looking sad and lost as he handed over another statement for Tim to work on. “Tomorrow is fine, Tim,” Jon said, in an uncharacteristic show of generosity. “No need to worry.” Tim was worried now, for an entirely different reason.

He promised himself he would only stay an extra hour, just to make sure Jon got home alright. That was two hours ago. Jon had apparently snuck out to the library without him noticing, and now needed to be fetched for reasons Tim was pretty sure he could guess at.

Jon was never really on good terms with the librarians. What he lacked in charm, he did not make up for in well, anything really. He got upset when a book was in the wrong place; he was very short whenever something would take longer than a few minutes. He constantly hid from the librarians when it was time to close- one night he was quite literally chased out by Janice, and another night he was locked in (also by Janice) and didn’t even notice.

So finding him tucked in between two bookshelves fast asleep was not surprising in the least. It didn’t look comfortable but Jon seemed fairly relaxed, crammed as he was. This had happened more than a few times back in research but never recently. And never was he quite so hidden away, not even a limb giving away his position. He knew Jon liked his small spaces, but even this was pushing it. Janice hadn’t attempted to wake him, knowing what a fools errand it would be. “That boy could sleep through the end of days, I reckon,” she said as she opened the door for Tim and ushered him down the aisles. “I don’t know how he does it.”

“That makes two of us,” Tim mumbled as he crouched down in front of the man he previously called a friend and now a boss. “Jon? You up, mate?”

No response. Typical. Tim could keep this going for the rest of the night, or he could take matters into his own hands.

Let it never be said that Tim wasn’t hands-on.

He managed to maneuver Jon into his arms without waking the man, a feat he’d perfected over the years. Jon, for his part, just slumped into his chest and muttered some nonsense under his breath that Tim couldn’t make out. Jon was a fairly vocal sleep-talker, something he found endlessly amusing. This situation was anything but amusing, however, and he could barely summon up a smile to give Janice as he carted his boss back down to the Archives.

Jon was falling back into old habits. He was becoming distant and moody, snapping at any inquiry about his health or well-being. It took all of Tim’s strength not to snap back at times. Sasha helped keep him in check, giving him warning glances whenever she believed he went too far, which was happening more and more often. He was afraid for the frail man in his arms. He had a strange sense of impending calamity that woke him up in the middle of the night, heart racing like it did after his encounter with the circus. It awoke a strange, primal fear inside of him that Tim couldn’t control and it crept in more and more by the day.

Even when Jon was safe and comfortable, tucked neatly into the cot in Document Storage, the fear didn’t ease. He wanted to stay and keep watch, though that didn’t make much sense. The Archives were probably the safest place to be. Nothing could reach them in this dank, dusty prison cell of a workplace. Not even Prentiss. But he was tired, so he decided to leave Jon to his dreams and chew him out tomorrow morning. Now wasn’t the time.

He took a quick detour to his desk and back to Document Storage before he left, throwing one of his cardigans over Jon’s sleeping form. Just in case he gets cold, he reasoned. In reality, he didn’t know who it was actually for- Jon or himself. Maybe both.

_________

This is ridiculous.

Initially, he had been happy and slightly proud to see his Archivist stumbling back into work, bleeding and freshly marked by the Corruption. He of course told him the opposite, encouraging him to take all the time available to him to recover. But his Archivist was nothing if not stubborn, and watching him limp about the Archives, paranoid and afraid, was a wonder to behold.

Today, however, might not have been the best time to come back.

The Magnus Institute, on paper, had a fully functioning HR department. That this HR department only included one incredibly overworked woman who was willing to let many things slide in order to collect a paycheck was no matter. They still had to observe the basic requirements that came along with it, and that included having mandatory yearly training in things such as workplace harassment. The modern workplace truly was a marvel - as if anyone willing to commit these acts would be cowed by one seminar.

But here they were on a Thursday afternoon, every supervisor gathered in the conference room to undergo ‘mandatory training’ in sensitive subject matters. The training wasn’t actually training at all but an instructional video of about thirty minutes. It was quite literally the least they could do- Elias wasn’t about to go wasting precious money on hiring more professionals to help them avoid inappropriate conduct. That’s what lawyers were for, after all.

Jon had stumbled in once the video had already begun, looking bedraggled and worse for wear. The only seat left was in the back, conveniently located right next to Elias. He gave his Archivist a short nod and glanced back at the screen with a bored detachment, watching from another pair of judging eyes as Jon stumbled and struggled his way around his colleagues, murmuring apologies.

He didn’t acknowledge Jon’s greeting, preferring instead to keep him at a distance. He didn’t want him to get too comfortable with him, not at this early stage. But he still noted the exhaustion in his features with some concern- he did need him semi-functioning, how else would they get any statements recorded?

Jon managed valiantly to stay awake for the first ten minutes before he started to nod off, his head jerking backwards in a sad attempt at consciousness. Elias rolled his eyes, clearing his throat several times in an effort to keep him awake. He didn’t much care for Jon’s dignity, but it was rather embarrassing for him to have an Archivist who couldn’t stay awake for a mere thirty minutes once the lights were down.

But then it started to veer into dangerous territory. Jon was slumping down further and further in his seat, each jerk awake more distracting than the last. Elias would ask him to leave if he didn’t think he would collapse on his way out the door and cause even more of a commotion. No, it would be fine to let him sleep if his head wasn’t constantly listing to the left, further and further and- Christ.

Jon’s head found purchase on his shoulder and there he remained, finally content to doze in peace.

They were tucked far enough in the corner that nobody could really see unless they strained their eyes. Everyone else was either watching the video or falling asleep themselves. Elias considered his options- he could wake the man, knowing the force required to do so would only cause a scene, or he could let him sleep until the end credits rolled- credits he knew were incredibly loud, and thus would cover up any yelp the Archivist emitted upon waking.

Both were terrible choices. If Elias had his way Jon would have collapsed back in the Archives and avoided this mess entirely. He would also have the added bonus of being able to scold him later- a win-win, certainly. But alas, it was not meant to be. He sacrificed his pride and let the man continue to sleep on his shoulder, tensing as much as he could to keep Jon from slipping further down into a more embarrassing position. The added irony of the subject on the screen- Unwanted Workplace Advances- was not lost on him.

At least the man was having unpleasant dreams. He contented himself with watching the Archivist flit across his nightmares, running from worms and spiders and whatever other horrors his mind conjured. It was much more entertaining than the video on the screen.

And then the credits rolled. A few seconds before they began, Elias placed a firm hand on Jon’s shoulder and shook him once, hard. Just in time, the outdated, cheesy music blasted from the speakers and nicely covered his Archivist's shriek of terror and subsequent heavy breathing as his eyes shot open, panicked. No one was the wiser to that little display.

His hand turned light, friendly. Just a boss showing concern for an unwell employee. “Jon, are you alright?” he asked, schooling his face into a parental sort of worry. That always seemed to work well with Jon- he was much more apt to be agreeable when the authority figure in question made it personal. “Do you need to go home?”

His eyes could barely focus as everyone else in the room stood up, yawning and stretching and milling about. “I-yes, I think I just need a lie down.” Elias nodded in faux-concern, helping the man to his feet.

Jon didn’t say a word as he walked him past the front door and into the Archives. He knew he had work to do.

________

Jon was in the way.

This was not a sentence Martin Blackwood had ever thought before. Even when Jon was technically in the way, he wasn’t, not really. Wherever Jon was, was wherever Jon needed to be. Whether it was standing in front of Martin when he needed to get to the break room, or blocking the water cooler as he lectured Tim about ‘workplace standards,’ Martin wasn’t going to ask him to move. Fighting with the man was absolutely exhausting and a lesson in futility.

But Jon was literally in his way. As in if he didn’t move, Martin would not be able to do his job for the rest of the day.

The man was curled on top of a box of files, the exact box of files that Martin needed to access. He wasn’t moving- Martin had thought at first that he was dead, but his slow, even breaths disproved that. Why would he choose this spot to take a nap? It couldn’t be comfortable- his back was hunched and his bad leg stuck out at an awkward angle. His arms were sprawled over the box as if guarding it. Sasha had told him a few stories from their research days, but he had never seen the man asleep over anything but his desk. Jon was looking far too vulnerable these days, and Martin didn’t know what to do with that.

“Jon?” he tried quietly. The man didn’t stir. Figures. He wanted to reach out and shake him awake, but his wounds were barely healed and kept opening up, probably from his nighttime escapades. He didn’t want to be the cause of more of Jon’s pain. So he stood there awkwardly, shifting from side to side as his boss continued his slumber.

“Something wrong?” Martin jumped at the sound of Tim’s voice- Jon did not. He was leaning in the doorway, looking almost as tired as Jon and definitely in need of a nap as well. He recovered a bit better, having taken every day allotted to him. But that didn’t mean he was back at peak performance. Tim followed his gaze to the floor and rolled his eyes upon seeing Jon asleep. ‘Really?” Tim was very irritated these days. Martin didn’t blame him.

“I didn’t know what to do!” he whispered back, though he probably didn’t need to keep his voice down. “I don’t want to hurt him, but I need that box-”

“Just move him,” Tim replied unkindly, making his way over. “He won’t wake up, he’s a very heavy sleeper, honest.” He reached out a hand to grab Jon’s shoulder but Martin stopped him.

“N-No!” he stuttered forcefully, well aware of Tim’s attitude towards Jon these days. “I’ll just, I can wait, I guess-”

“You said he was in your way.” With a wince Tim crouched down, placing an arm around Jon’s waist and hoisting him over his shoulder in one smooth, practiced move. “See?” he said, also whispering. “Not a peep.” It was true, Jon hadn’t stirred one bit. It was also very concerning. He watched as Tim slowly made his way across the room to the cot, placing Jon in bed with an infinite care he didn’t think the man capable of. Like hands at a piano remembering a well-practiced tune, Tim’s body played out a gentleness he no longer felt, not anymore. He even placed a blanket over Jon, pausing for a moment to look down at him. Martin couldn’t see the look on his face and couldn’t guess at what it was.

“There.” He turned around and abruptly exited the room, not sparing another glance at either of them. When Martin looks back at this moment, he’ll wonder if that’s the last kindness Tim ever offered Jon, and how sad it was that he wasn’t even awake to see it.

________________

A year later and Martin finds himself standing over Jon, watching him sleep. He is curled around a tape recorder. The light is on, it’s recording. For what end, Martin does not know.

He slips an arm around Jon’s waist like he saw Tim once do. Jon shivers- Martin is very cold these days, so he doesn’t fault him. He deposits him in the cot he knows so well- he will be safe here. Warm. Basira is here, and Melanie- they’ll look out for him, in their own way. He pauses, looking down at the man in the bed. He is alive, but Martin couldn’t tell you if he is breathing.

He does not visit the Archives again.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27162460

#whumptober2020 #exhaustion #no.23 #fic #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tim stoker #sasha james #elias bouchard #my writing #jonmartin #not a lot but its there #not really any cws

157 notes · View notes

scraregenrecs · 3 years

Text

SC Tropefest Fest Rareships/Gen Roundup!

There were so many rare and gen fics in @sctropefest – 26 to be exact, or 31.91% of the total works! We've compiled them here for your reading pleasure, and also spotlighted some honorable mentions at the very end that were primarily David/Patrick, but featured rare sideplots. Happy reading!

A Whole Lot To Gain by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Ted/Alexis, Alexis & David, Patrick & Alexis (background David/Patrick), G, 1,721 words

A story about identity, gender, and coming out.

and my task’s but begun by treepyful, Twyla & her mother, T, 16,109 words

Twyla was seven years old and missing a front tooth when her father left.

A look into Twyla's stories.

Budd is a dud! Vote Sands. by samwhambam, Stevie/Twyla, T, 7,718 words

Her and Twyla are friends. Not great friends. But friends who get high together at parties and have known each other for a long time. And up until right now, she thought they were better friends than a shitty, mean campaign slogan.

The enemies to lovers fic where Stevie and Twyla are both running for the same seat on town council.

(but if baby, i'm the bottom) you're the top by doingthemost, Alexis/Twyla, E, 3,681 words

Alexis knows what people assume about them.

They see Twyla's bright café smile at work, and listen to how readily she agrees to whatever her customers want. They watch how Twyla hangs back during get-togethers, freeing up room for Alexis to take the spotlight and captivate the crowd. They notice how Alexis towers over Twyla in her heels, and how she's always one step ahead of her steady, cautious girlfriend.

But they don't know what it's like when they're together.

OR: Five times Twyla tops Alexis, and one time she lets Alexis top her.

Captive on the carousel of time by designatedgrape, Stevie/Twyla, Gwen & Twyla (background David/Patrick), T, 11,156 words

The predictability of Schitt’s Creek and the routines of the people who live here have always been a comfort to Twyla. In a life that has been full of uncertainty, she appreciates that there are things she can always count on. So when Jocelyn walks in at 3:07, it isn’t a surprise. At least, not at first.

“What can I get for you, Jocelyn?”

“Oh, I think I’m going to need an extra-large coffee to get through the rest of the day, Twyla. I’m headed right back over to the school to set up for tonight.”

Twyla nods and turns to start making Jocelyn’s coffee. “What’s tonight?”

“Graduation.”

Twyla pauses and looks back at Jocelyn. “Um, I think you might be a little confused. Graduation was last night.”

come home to my heart by davidbrewer, Ted/Alexis, G, 1,822 words

“Oh, my god — Ted?”

Her own voice echoes in her ears and she’s suddenly standing, dumbfounded, outside Cafe Tropical almost seven years ago. Watching Ted step into the bistro felt eerily similar to watching him step off that motorcycle for the first time. It’s the kind of shock that makes the sparkling restaurant tile quake under her Louboutins.

Except, this time, the feelings bubbling to her chest are now far more nuanced than she knows how to process — no amount of personal growth or number of self-care retreats with Oprah could’ve prepared her to suddenly come face-to-face with the first person she ever loved more than herself.

OR: Alexis has a blind date. It's not what she EX-pected.

Deadpool Strikes Back! How One Merc For Hire Sticks It to an Army of Goons, One Annoying Narrator, and The Worst Villain of All: Self-Doubt by doingthemost, Stevie/Ruth, T, 1,340 words

WAZZUP!?@ 🤯 If you're reading this, you're probably thinking, "What the hell? Stevie's Deadpool?!"

The answer's YES! 🤗 And she's pissed, and not just 'cause a bunch of goons hijacked her girlfriend. 🤬 No: the worst thing of all is the narrator she has to deal with all along the way. 🤡 Buckle up, buckos, it's a bumpy ride!

AND DON'T FORGET TO LISTEN TO THE PODFIC!! AND OOH, DID I MENTION THERE'S ART?!

didn’t ask for this--you freely gave it (so now i watch your mouth for both of us) by Yellow_Bird_On_Richland, Alexis/Twyla, T, 6,371 words

Alexis chops her name down to three letters like it's nothing.

Twyla thinks about it a lot.

everyday the hold is getting tighter (and it troubles me so) by budd, Stevie/Ruth, M, 1,228 words

Stevie and Ruth end up sharing the last bed at the newest addition to Rosebud Motel Group.

Gonna Watch You Shine by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Johnny & Stevie, G, 1,127 words

Found Family Feelings: The Johnny & Stevie edition.

heaven is a place not too far away by doingthemost, Alexis/Twyla, Ted/Alexis (Previous), Alexis/Mutt (Previous), Alexis & David, Alexis & Moira (background David/Patrick), T, 8,267 words

"Oh, but soulmate marks are real." Her mother's expression softens. "Always one-sided, unfortunately. So difficult to know when you've truly met your soulmate without a matching indicator on the part of the other person, or other persons, if you're following." Her mother winks, and Alexis makes a face. "Your father was the exact same way. The poor little lamb couldn't carry a tune until he met me!"

"So you and Dad..." Alexis' head is spinning. "You guys are, like, actual soulmates."

"Very much so." Her mother appraises her carefully. "And you must have met yours, too."

"Yeah." Alexis blinks, stunned to find that she's short of breath. "I guess so."

OR: Alexis' soulmate mark – the ability to sing – triggers when she moves to Schitt's Creek.

i always felt i must look better in the rear view by davidbrewer, Alexis & David, Alexis/Twyla, David/Patrick, Alexis & David & Johnny & Moira, T, 13,152 words

“I have everything I need right here,” Twyla says, and something very fond stirs in Alexis’s chest. “I don’t need to wish for anything else. But you… You have big dreams, Alexis, and… If anyone deserves to have their wishes come true, it’s you. I want you to have it.”

OR: When her family's past stands in the way of a career opportunity, Alexis makes a wish that completely upends their lives all over again... but is it really what she wants?

If Hell Had a Creek by High-Seas-Swan, sonlali, sunlightsymphony, Gen, T, 9,139 words

After losing everything, the Roses are forced to move to their only remaining asset, the town of Schitt's Creek. Also, the town is on the Hellmouth, and Alexis is the Slayer.

If You Could See The Other Side Of Me by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Stevie/Alexis, Stevie & David (background David/Patrick) T, 3,473 words

Stevie has a teeny, tiny little celebrity crush.

It doesn't mean anything.

In The Running by floosilver8, Stevie/Twyla, M, 3,587 words

Stevie and Twyla run against each other for Town Council.

No Dress Rehearsals by kindofspecificstore, Patrick & Ted, Patrick/Rachel, Miguel/Ted, Patrick/David, G, 3,770 words

Life Happens to Ted and Patrick, and music is one of the things that helps them through it. Discovering a mutual love for the Tragically Hip forges a kind of friendship neither of them had before.

Or, just two boys talking about their feelings in a Tim Horton's parking lot.

putting roots in my dreamland by lilythesilly, Alexis/Twyla, G, 4,078 words

“Are roses your favorite flower?” Twyla asks, setting it down.

“Mm, no, but they’re kind of my brand?” she says, picking it up to snap a picture on her phone. “And as cute as it would be to have a peony in my logo, my company isn’t named ‘Alexis Peony Communications.”

“So, Alexis...Rose?” Twyla puts together, the name sounding vaguely familiar. Alexis nods, taking a photo at a different angle. “Well, I’m Twyla. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Twyla,” Alexis says slowly. Twyla loves the sound of her name in Alexis’s voice. “Nice to meet you.”

a twylexis flowershop au

Rollin’ With the Homies by doingthemost, Alexis/Twyla, Stevie/Ruth, Ted/Miguel (background David/Patrick), T, 9,917 words

So I know it seems like I live in this, like, super privileged world. Or maybe, like, a rip-off of The O.C. – or even worse, Laguna Beach, ugh! But I swear, I have a totally normal life!

Alexis Rose is just your totally average 16 year old with two annoying older siblings, David and Stevie, and a totally normal crush on her best friend, Twyla Sands. It's completely chill. She isn't, like, totally buggin'.

AKA: the Clueless AU.

Taste of a Poison Paradise by lilythesilly, Alexis/Twyla, M, 15,107 words

“Where have you been?” Stevie yells, kicking someone in the face and sending them over the railing.

“Stealing fireworks,” Rachel grunts, grabbing a stray piece of pipe off of the floor and bringing another one of them to their knees before delivering a swift roundhouse kick to their face.

“Oooh, these are fireworks?” Alexis grins with a small shimmy. “Love that for us.”

Green vines encircle the railings and Twyla jumps over it a second later. “I got the cane plus some other stuff,” she says, tossing it and another bag to Alexis and wrapping one of the ones around a guy trying to climb the railing to get up to them, dropping him onto the floor. “Let’s go.”

Be gay, do crimes but make it a Harley Quinn AU

The Blouse Barn Divorce Ranch by Amanita_Fierce, dairaliz, danieljradcliffe, DelilahMcMuffin, doingthemost, fairmanor, fishyspots, foxtails, GodOfLaundryBaskets, hagface, High-Seas-Swan (FangLang), hullomoon, Januarium, KiwianaPods (kiwiana), middyblue (daisyblaine), nontoxic, RhetoricalQuestions, roguebaby, schittposting, ships_to_sail, singsongsung, SparklesMagicLightLove, sunlightsymphony, thetomkatwholived, yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana), Alexis/Twyla, Jake/Rachel, Ted/Miguel, Stevie/Ruth, David/Patrick, M, 26,226 words

Hello, I am Wendy Kurtz, proprietor of the Blouse Barn Divorce Ranch, the world’s premier spot for couples looking to get a speedy divorce and connect with other soon-to-be divorcees.

I’d like to highlight the stories of five couples, who rearranged into five other couples, from some past summer. These ten people came to the Blouse Barn Divorce Ranch with the intention of ending a marriage, and got that and so much more.

I could recount their journeys with 100% accuracy, but where’s the fun in that? Let’s let them tell us themselves.

OR: One crazy summer in Las Vegas brings the heat and then some.

The Devil’s Work is Never Done by doingthemost and schittposting, Alexis or Stevie or Twyla/Reader, Gen, 68 words

If you were faced with temptation, what would you do?

The Guestbook of David and Patrick Rose-Brewer, by sonlali, Gen, T, 900 words

“A home isn't always the house we live in. It's also the people we choose to surround ourselves with.” — The House in the Cerulean Sea

A look through the entries in David and Patrick's wedding guestbook

Through Someone Else’s Eyes by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Alexis & David, T, 1,351 words

It's all Mr Hockley's fault.

The tea was supposed to get him high, not make him wake up in his sister's body.

To the end of the reckoning by dinnfameron, Patrick & Ronnie, T, 1,308 words

He should get David a coffee. He could deliver it to the motel, see how he’s doing. His arm is raised halfway to flag Twyla down when he catches himself. David doesn’t want to see him right now. He may never want to see Patrick ever again. The thought makes him sick.

“Brewer.” Patrick turns at the sound of his name. There aren’t many people in this town who call him that, and sure enough, there’s Ronnie Lee at a table near the front. He’d missed her, somehow.

“You look like shit,” she says.

[art] you know what they say: better late than never by budd, Alexis/Twyla, G, 274 words

While unpacking her boxes to move into Alexis' apartment in New York City, Twyla finds a stash of her old business cards from when she wrote a column for young members of the LGBTQIA+ community in The Advocate.

You’d be the love of my life by doingthemost and sonlali, Alexis/Twyla, M, 6,650 words

Alexis needs a date to a last-minute Interflix party on Valentine's Day so she can make Zac Efron jealous. Naturally, she asks her best friend and crush, Twyla, to pretend to be her girlfriend for the event. What could possibly go wrong?

BONUS CONTENT:

We wanted to also highlight some fics that are David/Patrick centric, but also include a rarepair side plot! These could be a great place to start for those who haven’t dipped their toe into rarepairs yet, but are intrigued by the idea.

I Waited My Whole Life by agoodperson, David/Patrick and Stevie/Twyla, T, 23,402 words

David is just going to have to come up with something, because there is just no way that he can let Patrick Brewer catch him going to another of the town's many weddings on his own.

Wheel of Fortune: New York Edition! by middyblue, David/Patrick and Alexis/Twyla, T, 10,521 words

Patrick spends his evenings with his new roommate Stevie watching NY1's Wheel of Fortune spin-off hosted by Johnny and David Rose, until one day he accidentally bumps into David Rose himself on the train and starts to fill in some of the blank spaces in his life.

You Happened by lilythesilly, David/Patrick and Stevie/Twyla, T, 54,271 words

David Rose is many things: talented, creative, fashion-forward, well read—the list can go on, but at the very top of that list is Extremely Rich. So he doesn’t understand why his father is making him work at Rose Video—or why Patrick Brewer, a boy he's had virtually no interaction with since they were twelve, is suddenly always around.

An enemies-to-coworkers-to-friends-to-lovers high school au.

You Look Like a Movie, You Sound Like a Song by fishyspots, E, David/Patrick and Stevie/Twyla, 18,683 words

David has often wished, at first seriously and then more cynically as he grew older, that his life was a rom com. It takes longer than he'd like, frankly, but the universe calls his bluff.

You’re the star at the top of my tree by schittposting, T, David/Patrick and Alexis/Twyla, 10,392 words

Patrick Brewer comes to Schitt's Creek with a goal: drive Rose Apothecary out of business so Christmas World can take over its space. He's not counting on falling for its owner.

Happy reading friends! x

27 notes · View notes