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maccreadysbaby · 5 months

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A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

a little bentley + tim and bentley + damian action ain’t never killed nobody (seriously dami and bentley might be my favorite pair to write atm)

part two

❝ METAHUMAN PROBLEMS ❞

MONDAY — JULY 27 — 9:46PM

BENTLEY PADDED BACK DOWN TO THE BATCAVE WITH PUPPY-DOG-EYES AND PUPPETEER CHARM AT THE READY TO ASK TIM FOR HELP WITH THE PHONE. He was in a Red Robin t-shirt and pajama pants that used to be Tim’s (just for good measure), and his red hair was floppy and wet from his shower, to assure maximum cuteness. Getting Tim away from that computer was more a job for, like, Batman himself than Bentley, but he didn’t intend to fail.

It was pitch black outside now, and Dick had left for Bludhaven a few hours ago. Jason hadn’t been at the Manor for the past couple days, Duke was out with Steph and Cass doing some community service or something for school, Damian was in the training room, and Bentley had a solid excuse for needing Tim’s help.

He walked into the Batcave with the phone clasped ever-so-tightly between his hands to ensure its safety. Damian was still in the training room, now throwing knives at a dummy. Bentley saw him land five square in the dummy’s chest in a span of three seconds through the windows.

Tim was still at the computer. There was a fourth cup of coffee there now, steaming next to him like Alfred had just brought it down. The papers had been shuffled around, and it looked like more had been added to the massive pile. There were a bunch of files pulled up all over the Batcomputer with information and photos of villains they’d fought recently. Tim was staring between the screen and pages like he had been the whole time.

Bentley drifted up to the left side of Tim’s chair, glancing between all the different villain faces on the screen. “Hey.”

Tim didn’t even glance up from his papers. “Hey, Bentley.”

Bentley stood there for a moment, reading some of the information on the screen before he continued: “Whatcha working on?”

Tim hummed, flipping a paper over. “There’s been a massive influx of new metahuman villains in and around Gotham. I’m trying to find whether or not they’re coming from the same place. Maybe working for the same person,” He muttered, then tapped a key on the Batcomputer. All of the villain photos went away, and civilians replaced them. “And I’m looking into the disappearance of several different Gotham citizens that have vanished over the past month. All completely gone without a trace.”

Bentley’s eyes flicked across the screen. Being a Metahuman meant all these supervillains had literal superpowers — no wonder patrol had been tougher than usual recently. “Do you think they could be-“

“No,” Tim shook his head. “Metahumans are all born or endowed with the same genetic traits. None of the missing people have them.”

“How do you know?” Bentley murmured, leaning closer.

Tim shrugged. “Medical files, military history, school records. We have access to a lot of stuff here, and none of them have the genetic information of a metahuman. So I’m working with two completely unrelated, very strange occurrences.”

Bentley hummed again. “Guess what?”

Tim finally glanced over at him, and Bentley nearly frowned at how tired his eyes looked. “What?”

“Bruce got me a phone,” He stated, holding the little green device up so Tim could see it. “I was gonna ask if you would help me set it up.”

Tim rubbed his eyes with his pointer finger and thumb. “Did Dick already go home?”

“Yeah. And Duke is still gone. Bruce said you’d be way better help than him,” Bentley explained quietly. “Please? I don’t think it’ll take super long.”

“Why don’t you ask Damian?”

Bentley glanced up, past Tim, into the training room just in time to see Damian throw a knife at the dummy so hard the blade came out the back of its head.

Bentley screwed his face up, and Tim chuckled. “Yeah, me too,” He sucked in a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, you got me. Just tell Bruce to be a bit more stealthy in his attempts to make me come upstairs next time. He is the Batman, after all.”

Bentley nodded sheepishly, and Tim pushed the chair out from under the desk and stretched his legs. He grabbed the coffee mug and chugged the whole thing in just a few seconds. “You might want to plug it up for a few minutes before we start messing with it. Where’s the charger?”

“In my room,”

“Brilliant. I guess that’s our next stop,” He stated. He stood up and scooped Bentley off the floor, who squeaked in surprise. Thankfully the death grip he had on his phone didn’t let up as Tim lifted him up to sit on his shoulders.

“What are you doing?!” He exclaimed, wrapping his arms around Tim’s neck tightly from behind so he wouldn’t fall off backwards.

“You don’t have to choke me, I’m not gonna drop you,” He stated. He was holding onto Bentley’s legs but it didn’t feel secure in the slightest.

Bentley loosened his arms. A little. “Sorry.”

“No worries,”

Bentley glanced back at the training room just in time to see Damian throw a knife. It missed.

Damian never misses.

He didn’t get to watch any longer, though, because Tim made for the stairs and Bentley had no choice but to go with him. He had to duck under all the doorways back into the Manor, and going up the stairs was borderline terrifying, but they made it to his room without any casualties. Tim dropped him backwards on the bed with a flop.

“Okay, let’s see what this thing can do,” He stated, plopping down next to Bentley on the mattress. He’d already plugged the wire into the wall earlier, and he plugged the phone into it. It was just long enough to reach the mattress without being too tight.

They shimmied up to the headboard and stared at the screen for probably a couple hours. Tim handled all the fancy stuff, like setting up the memory and an email address and fiddling with the settings. He organized his Home Screen nicely and taught him how to use the most important apps. (Which just ended up being messages, making calls, the camera, Google, and maps.)

Then he gave it to Bentley and let him download cool games and other stuff. (Even games he had to buy, which he’d been hesitant about, but Tim assured him it was okay.) He made sure to sit extra close to him and sort of use him as a pillow so he couldn’t move.

By the time they had actually finished, Bentley was playing a game called subway surfers, and Tim was asleep in a strange little ball next to him.

Mission success.

After he was sure Tim was sleeping, he wiggled out of the comforter and climbed out of bed. He left his phone on the nightstand and flicked his bedroom lights off, leaving the bathroom ones on for a little visibility, and closed the door softly as he returned to the hallway.

The Manor was quiet now. Damian’s bedroom door was still open, which meant he wasn’t inside. Duke, Cass, and Steph hadn’t returned, because Bentley would definitely be able to hear them, and he wasn’t sure where Bruce was. So he floated back down to the cave to check if Damian was still there.

He was. Bentley could hear the knives landing before he even turned the corner to see the training room. It was nearly ten, which meant they’d be leaving for patrol sooner rather than later.

Damian was doing the same thing he’d been doing for hours — sticking knives to the dummy. He didn’t even look up when Bentley entered the room, just threw the final knife in his hand, and it landed in the artificial man’s face with a dull thud.

The knife was still planted in the padded wall where he’d missed earlier.

Bentley, satisfied that Damian didn’t have any knives left, drifted over to the one sticking out of the wall. “Damian?”

“Yes?”

Bentley carefully grabbed the hilt of the knife and pulled it out of the wall, blinking at his own reflection in the blade. “Are you okay?”

The quiet thumps of Damian pulling the rest of his knives out of the dummy made Bentley turn. He watched him rhythmically wiggle the hilts up and down until they shimmied out.

“I am fine. I have no reason not to be,” Damian replied flatly. Bentley took a few steps forward and handed him the knife (hilt first, like Jason had taught him in the kitchen) and Damian took it. He momentarily thought about reminding him that last time he told Bentley he was fine he ended up passing out cold in the floor of the library. But Damian was holding about eight knives and he didn’t want to bother him about it.

“Are you sure?” Was what he said instead.

“Positive,” He replied.

Bentley hummed, moving off to the side incase Damian was going to throw them again. To his surprise, the assassin grabbed a little fabric holder off of the bench and began putting them away.

“Are you nervous for patrol? Dick told me it’s been harder lately, with all the new villains popping up,” Bentley tried again.

He thought he might’ve heard Damian scoff. “Tt. Of course not.”

So he decided it was time to stop talking about it. He drummed his fingers on his pajama pants and stood in silence for a few moments as Damian strapped the knives into place.

“Do you think you could teach me how to do that?” He finally muttered. Damian glanced over at him, his greenish eyes dancing across his face for a moment.

“Throw knives?”

Bentley shrugged. “Yeah. I think it’s pretty cool.”

Damian blinked for a moment, folding up the little fabric knife holder. “I can attempt. I was young when I learned — I do not remember all of the specific instructions. I simply know how to do it.”

Before Bentley could think better of it, he inquired: “How young?”

Damian slid the pack of knives away in a large rack used for storing their practice weapons. “Four or five, I believe.”

Bentley said nothing. He could hardly dress himself when he was four, and Damian was already learning how to throw knives in combat?

He had lots of questions about the League of Assassins, but he decided it would be best not to ask them. Maybe Jason would answer a few. He was older when he was in the League, after all, and wasn’t born into it. He didn’t know how differently his and Damian’s experiences had been. Maybe he’d just keep the questions to himself, actually.

“Todd might be a better teacher than me,” Damian continued with a quiet sigh. “But I will teach you if you’d like me to.”

Bentley nodded. “I would.”

Damian made his way to the dummy and began moving it back into the corner near the rack. “Looks like you managed to get Drake away from the Batcomputer. That’s not an easy feat, given his extraordinary amount of stubbornness when it comes to staring at that screen.”

Bentley snickered a little. “I basically had to lay across him to make him stay still enough to go to sleep, but yeah. He’s in my room.”

Damian made a tt again. “He seems to like you.”

Bentley blinked a couple of times, unsure how to respond. He’d been living in the house Tim spent most of his time in for about ten months now, literally right across the hall, so he’d hope he liked him.

“Yeah,” Is all Bentley said. He had no clue where Damian was going with that, but apparently neither did he, because he didn’t say anything else about it.

“Are you going to see if Gordon will let you sit in on patrol tonight?” He asked as he positioned the dummy next to the others and gathered his water and phone off the bench. Bentley shrugged.

“Probably. I really like to listen,” He replied. Damian hummed in response.

They fell silent again for a few moments. Bentley had no clue what to talk about. Apparently Damian didn’t either. So Bentley just dragged himself back up the stairs with him, not entirely convinced he was fine, but staying quiet nonetheless.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @cademygod

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bruciemilf · 2 years

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Alrighty so after reading a fic that Muhammad Ali'd my feels - I'm now thinking; 40s AU Young newspaper writer Clark Kent got a neat little drafting letter in the mail. Death and gunsmoke sits thick on his tongue.

He thinks about dodging it. He remembers he's tall an broad shouldered with youth and health roaring in his lungs. Others go with silver hairs and illnesses.

He remembers his Ma and Lois and people he writes about everyday.

He reconsiders.

He meets combat medic Thomas Wayne with blood in his eyes and burned soil in his mouth and the sound of shouts and bombs wailing around them. " Good day to die isn't it?!"

"...Better than Lasagna day!" He shouts back, and this might be the last words he ever says, and he simply can't have that, "You gotta run out of here!" He shouts, blood glazing over his lips.

Thomas is precise, thought, working thread and scissors and pumping Clark with enough Morphine to send him flying.

" My boy likes you hero types!"

" You got a son?"

" Oh, yeah! Gonna tell you so much about him you'll wish I left you here," and that's the last thing Clark recalls him shouting before a screen of pitch black punched him out of conciousness.

Death has a taste. It's bitter, and final, and peaceful, and Clark never wants seconds. But Thomas is a man of his word.

Sits by Clark's bedside, hands never clean, always stained red, with scraps of flesh or dirt caking under his fingernails, and talks so much about Bruce that Clark asks for anaesthesia.

He laughs, too, and it feels good. It feels nice to hear someone and not having to worry if it's the last, " You know he never wants to hear from me again? Cause I came here? I think he's just angry those puppy eyes don't work anymore."

" Someone has to."

" Tell him that when we get out of here; He can outstubborn a donkey but he makes really good pie. "

" My Ma could make one better. No way a rich boy makes good pie." Thomas smiles like he's just won something, close-mouthed and curving mischievously, and Clark just knows he and Ma would get along like water and fish.

Clark doesn't stop thinking about him. About Bruce Wayne, with round, pretty eyes that make Clark think of dark chocolate and sweet coffee. A shy little thing of a smile and beautiful In ways Clark's hands shouldn't touch.

And he does meet Bruce, because he makes it out of there. Scarred and hurt and hollow, but alive all the same, and Thomas sees a reason for celebration.

JUST. BRUCE AND CLARK BEING AMAZED AT ONE ANOTHER. Bruce outshining everyone at Thomas' little homecoming Gala in Clark's eyes, even retreated and puffy eyed and pouty, clinging to his father the whole time.

Let there be a sweet lightning strike when these two cross eyes. Let Bruce nervously introduce himself, a rosy, pink flush decorating his cheekbones, and let Clark feel his hand tingle with want when they separate.

" I'm, - I wouldn't have come. I don't like war."

" Neither do I," Clark smiles, rusty and strange on his face, " but I do like milkshakes and popcorn. Especially with good company." He offers up his arm to Bruce, which, he does try to backtrack-- maybe he's reading this wrong, maybe Bruce just feels pity, -- but there's a vine grip hooking around Clark's arm.

" You'll stand out this way."

" Good."

#just a nasty nasty bitch for soldier clark also bruce is a teacher in this au!!!#bullets and journals au #they send eachother letters when clark is called up again and my heartttt #bruce wayne #clark kent #bruceclark #superbat #fluff #angst #writing #dc #dc comics

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quotidian-oblivion · 10 months

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I see you have an ask game active so why not send you asks? :D

Also I just realized that I don’t really send you asks and that must be fixed immediately so without further ado

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

Share some ideas! I’d love to see it

Ask game

HI VIBEY!!!

Aww, tyy. I really appreciate it! /gen

I have... ideas alright! Hold on- I got a perfect one.

The Rogue's Bi-monthly Meeting

So I wrote this while just being lazy on the bus and my mind was not staying still and kept bouncing around in my skull. I was gonna post it on Tumblr sometime after finishing it, but couldn't bother so. Here ya go, enjoy:

[Jason goes undercover as Red Hood to a rogues' meeting when Bruce got some intel that some of Gotham's rogues get together to discuss plans. Here's how the conversation goes basically.] Riddler: As the nominated chairperson of the bi-monthly rogues meeting, I officially declare this meeting open. State your order of businesses. [They all give a vague idea of their plans] Penguin: hey wait. You can't attack Gotham City Thomas Wayne Orphanage, Croc. I'm attacking it on the 23rd of April. Croc: Too bad. Penguin: Back off. I thought of the idea first. Riddler: Now now. The whole reason for this meeting is so that we don't pull the same gimmicks over and over. I'm sure there are plenty of other orphanages to go around. Penguin: I don’t want other orphanages. I want this one. It always ticks off Batman more than the others. Croc: You're supposed to be clever, Penguin. Figure something out. Penguin, pulling out his umbrella: now listen here you— Riddler: Do you want to be banned from the meetings like Kite-man? No? Then shut your trap. [Penguin grumbles but sits back down] [They discuss special days and who's doing what on which day and Jason's recording everything when—] Riddler: And what about you, Hood? We still got Christmas Eve, Saturnalia and Eid-ul-Adha. Choose your pick. Jason, absentmindedly: Uh, Saturnalia. Condiment King: You kidding? There are so many gigs happening at that time that you'll go unnoticed. Scarecrow: I believe it's the opposite. Batman always had a hard spot for Red Hood. Makes me wonder what he did to earn the Bats' love more than the rest of us. Jason, gritting his teeth: Nunya business. Riddler: Moving on! Now… the vigilantes themselves. Does anyone know if any of the Bats are on their period right now? Catwoman: Black Bat's on hers. [The whole room bristles with fear] Penguin: There's no way I'm pulling off any gigs now. Scarecrow: This sucks. Croc: Yeah, I'm pulling out. I'm not ready to be paralyzed right now. Puppeteer: Yeah man, I'm out too. Now's a good time as any to go to that Hawaii trip I've been planning. Jason, mouthing under his helmet: What the fuck? Bane: Why does Black Bat always have to have her periods irregularly? It sucks balls. Riddler, sighing: I agree. And I had cooked up such a beautiful surprise for Batman. Anyway, is Spoiler's periods still regular? Judging from how stiff Firefly is looking, I'd say yes. Firefly: Those are two Bats who have their period at the same time! Riddler, having giving up on his mission to stay out of Arkham this week: Indeed we are truly in hell. Next order of business is— [Harley and Ivy bust through the doors] Harley: We just got word that Batman just banned Red Robin from drinking coffee! Ivy: Red Robin's on a caffeine withdrawal! [Immediately, the whole room bursts into shrieks. One of them give a classic high-pitched scream] Penguin: Why?! Why?! Can't Batman just let him have his coffee?! And that too on Spoiler’s and Black Bats’ periods! *wails* Riddler: Now I gotta postpone all those riddle hunts I planned! If he wasn't on caffeine withdrawal and two Bats weren’t menstruating, I would have gotten enough time to establish an actual game! Scarecrow: Puppeteer, you got room for one more person for that Hawaii trip? Jason, squirming cuz he was the one who dobbed in Tim's hidden coffee stash: Uh… Can I come?

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 2 years

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Why do I feel like the batfam would totally love to hang out with Dick's girlfriend's dad?

Because they would. Because This guy is based on no less than 4 big scary biker men that I know. And they like a party.

"And you're sure this won't be a problem?" Bruce asked, looking at Dick. Cars lined the streets and the smell of smoking meat drifted over the neighborhood. It was mouth watering.

"It's a block party, Bruce," Dick said smiling. "It'll be a nice time."

He snorted when Bruce grunted and hefted the cooler out of the car, grateful when Jason grabbed the other side. "Y/N where do you want this?" Jason yelled, catching sight of you loping through the grass in shorts and a tank top.

"Just set it in the back. I'm about to pull the meat off the smoker," you say around a yawn, twisting the top off a glass bottle and pitching the cap into a coffee can by the garage door.

"Where's your dad?" Dick asked, looking around.

"Round back," you answer, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek and pushing the door open, accepting hugs hello and turning to lead them through.

"How is your dad so tall and you got none of that?" Jason asked, casually resting an arm on top your head to illustrate the point.

"Her mama built her ass too close to the ground," Robert chuckled, accepting hand shakes and introductions, hauling himself to his feet with a groan of effort, leaning on his cane. He was a big man. Nearly seven feet tall and close to 300 pounds. Imposing in spite of the cane. But when you crinkle your nose at him, he grins. Looking boyish under the grizzled features.

"That. looks. amazing." Dick said, watching you pull meat off the smoker.

"We'll see. I still don't think she used enough black pepper."Robert huffed before he started distributing drinks, happy to have new people to tease. "Tamra," he yelled, "Do we have more ice?"

"In the garage!"

"I'll get it daddy just give me a minute-"

"You just pay attention to what you're doing," he snorted, pausing long enough to wrap one arm around your shoulder and squeeze.

Bruce watches you track him as he makes his way, unsteadily over the grass. "Dick can you-"

"Yup," he said, kissing your head before following after him.

Some of the tension leaves your shoulders and you pick up a perfectly sharpened knife to start cutting the meat, looking satisfied. "Damn I'm good-"

"Uh huh," Robert said, taking the plate you set aside for him, "There's no way-" He took a bite and chewed thoughtfully for a second while you turn to pull off the pork. "Not bad, kid," he said nodding.

"Not bad?" Bruce said, quirking an eyebrow, trying the bite he was offered.

"Not enough black pepper," Robert said, winking as you turn to glare at him.

It's a similar process when your mother appears, putting bowls down long tables, and before long, neighbors appear with more platters and bowls. Lights strung on fences glow softly and it doesn't take long for musicians to appear.

"Damian, if you give me a minute to scrape everything down, there's veggie burgers," you call.

"Acceptable," he said, nibbling on some peppers that had been sliced and set out before making his way to where you were standing. There were 75 people filtering in and out of the yard. It was simultaneously nice. And sensory hell.

But it looked calmer by the grill where you'd been most of the day.

"It's a lot, I know," you hum, "But it'll start winding down here soon.

"I'm fine," he huffed, glancing over to where Jason, Steph, and Bruce were talking with your dad. Listening to whatever outlandish story that he was telling- Not about a bigfoot but about the time he worked in a zoo.

But when you hum and turn back to scraping off the grill, he's glad you don't push. And by the time you're handing him a black bean burger on a gluten-free bun, the headache behind his eyes has abated enough for him to sit in the grass at Bruce's feet.

Your father had a deep voice and a rumbling laugh. And the more the night wore on, the funnier the stories got.

Damian was just grateful no one expected him to contribute much. But when you caught his eye, with a smile and a wink, he figured he could do this again. As long as you didn't forget his burger.

#Dick Grayson #Dick Grayson x reader #anon ask #anon answered #damian wayne #minors dni

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tryskomys · 3 months

Text

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 2 - I’m On Fire

Summary: Let’s meet in our dreams.

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: chapter two has arrived! i hope it's not too eccentric and confusing to read, it's the only way i know how. hope you enjoy <3

tw: weed, swearing, psychedelic-headache-inducing imagination. you know those dreams that feel like you've taken a hit of acid and fuck up your day before you can say “these edibles ain't shit”? yeah, there's that.

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

A flash of ruddy hair appeared in her peripheral as she felt his warm breath tickle the back of her neck.

“This is my room,” he mumbled in her ear and led her inside a strange place with four walls, a ceiling and a floor. It didn’t look like a room at all.

She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it seemed to be made of something similar to cotton clouds, corporeal and see-through at the same time.

In the furthest corner, there was a single bed with bright pink sheets and a small tea table. It had a cup of coffee on top, along with a pocket weed pipe.

Her body twitched when he put his hand between her shoulder blades and extended his other lanky arm to point an extraordinarily long finger at the wall in front of them, landing right on a shiny sunburst Les Paul.

“This is my guitar,” he whispered again, his cold aquiline nose nudging her cheek. She wanted to turn around to take a peek at him, but she felt like she was frozen in time, gliding through the room as he gracefully pushed her further inside.

The walls expanded and shrunk over and over again, swirling like the smoke that was eerily sizzling out of the glass pipe.

“This is my bed,” he snapped her out of her dissociation again, his fingers wrapping around her waist. He led her towards the comfortable-looking mattress.

She didn’t protest when he spun her around and lifted her off the floor as if she were made of feathers.

She was looking right through him, unable to focus on his features, yet she knew exactly where to touch to caress his cheek. She could feel a few small freckles under her fingertips.

He hummed as he laid her down on the bed and straightened up again, reaching for the small transparent pipe crammed with green clumps.

His cheeks hollowed as he took a long, deep drag and then leaned on his knees, puffing the smoke right into her face. There was something inexplicably vulgar about the scent.

And as his hair fluttered under his exhale, it was as if she was simultaneously standing in a field full of wild strawberry bushes.

“This is my handy little grass pipe,” he breathed out the remnants of smoke, his voice low and stoic. Just when his features finally started to take shape and colour, he moved again and blurred into an unrecognizable tall figure climbing on top of her, knees at the sides of her hips.

He hovered above her as he swept her tangled hair out of her face, his Adam's apple moving up and down while he hummed an unidentifiable tune.

The melody was surprisingly delicate and gentle, contrasting his shameless indecency. When she subconsciously tried to look away from his scrutinizing stare, he swiftly caught her jaw in his hand, tutting.

"Nuh-uh. This is my dream, too. Don’t be a killjoy,” he mumbled, somewhat crass. He softly tugged on her chin to turn her head back to face him and when she did, his features finally took shape.

His eyes were impossibly big. Half-lidded with wildly dilated pupils, irises an unidentifiable, harsh shade of green. Encircled with smudges of messy black eyeliner, swirling through her brain like a head-spinning drug.

His lips curled into a cocky grin when a breath hitched in her throat. She reached up to run her hand through his red-tinted hair, but she grabbed nothing but air. He tutted again and slowly shook his head as if he was deeply disappointed in her naivité.

Suddenly, a shrilling high-pitched beep echoed through the floating room and wormed into her ear, pounding her brain like a sledgehammer. Her heart burst into rapid beats when he bent down to her face, a smug smirk still dancing on his angled features.

His phantom lips shivered over hers like a weightless quill, bony ribcage brushing against her chest as he let out an airy chuckle. His words were laced with condescending amusement.

“Oh, right. This is my alarm clock. It always seems to ring by the time we get here. What a shame…oh well. Tommorow, same time, same place. Don't you forget...”

His voice melted and got lost in the loud beeps as the room around her dissolved. Kiki let out a pathetic whine and she waved her hands in the air, trying to grasp onto his shoulders so he wouldn’t disappear with it.

It didn’t work, so she swiftly sat up in her bed, still grabbing the air around her.

When she realized the source of the noise was a blue alarm clock that sat on the coffee table next to her, she grabbed it and threw it against the wall with a childish grunt.

It stopped beeping, but its plastic container broke open and the battery fell out, rolling along the floor and stopping right at her feet as if to mock her.

She huffed, feeling a rush of blood pool in her cheeks as the fresh memory of her dream erased the ugly noise from her mind.

Huh. What the fuck…

She was extremely puzzled as she looked around her flat, finally grounding in reality. One room, that’s all she had, with a tiny kitchen counter and an even smaller bathroom.

Her window led to the street, though, so whenever she crawled out of her bed, she could open it right away and breathe in the frigid winter air.

She rubbed her eyes and looked out, watching as lone cars passed through the mist that settled above the dim streets of Seattle. She smiled to herself.

Could be a worse view.

Getting up, Kiki stretched and grabbed the alarm clock off the floor. She put it back together, finally looking at the time.

5:30. Fuck. That’s late.

She sped up her routine, clumsily slapping on mascara in the bathroom before quickly digging through her suitcase to fish out a clean shirt.

A month in and I still haven’t unpacked, what a well-mannered lady.

She couldn’t find anything, so she frantically looked around the room, kicking a rag and a bra out of her way. Her eyes fell on a white t-shirt that was thrown over the single chair next to her table.

She walked up to it and folded it open, revealing a round-shaped photo of an Indian man with a huge beard, long hair and sunglasses, circled with big words that spelled SOUNDGARDEN.

Oh. Oh, right.

The picture of the unruly guy from her dream finally fully materialized and her already heated blush grew even brighter when she realized that she did, in fact, not make him up.

Fuck. Beanpole.

“So you haven’t been to a gig here yet? God, that’s grim. Soundgarden is a great place to start, though. It’s a bit of everything, but mostly kinda metal-based. The U-Men are playing next week, if you’re into more punky stuff, ” Stone rambled and waved his hands around, which was clearly something he did a lot.

His strides were long and brisk, so she was a bit out of breath as she tried to catch up with him.

He had a big suede jacket on and a fuzzy knitted beanie with a big puffy ball on top.

Kiki had to giggle at his unusual visage, she couldn't put into words what made him so damn endearing, but he had an irresistibly charming skip to his step.

Now that he was in motion, he reminded her of a cub that hadn’t fully grown into its paws yet, his huge feet slapping against the crunching fresh snow, bony fingers wiggling through the air as he enumerated the upcoming week’s concerts.

Kiki threw the t-shirt on and quickly wiggled into her ragged denim overalls, cursing when the fuzzy brown sweater she stuck her head through made her hair stand up and crackle with static.

She promptly looked over at her clock again and tied her boots, grabbed her wristwatch off the table and put it in the pocket of her leather jacket.

As she skipped down the long stairs of the apartment building, she wrapped a long woollen scarf around her neck, scratching her forehead when a piece of cotton lint stuck to her eyebrow.

She hurried to the bike rack in front of the building, clumsily throwing her backpack on while trying to untangle the leather strap that tied her bike to the metal pipes. When she finally loosened it, she quickly grabbed the lock that hung on it, moved the three number buttons in the correct order and took it off.

She stuffed all of it in her pockets, too and hopped on her bike. And then she could finally set off to work, letting memories flow through her head.

“Stoney! Hey, Stoney! Stoked that you made it! Matt shed a few tears when he didn’t see you in the pit,” the seemingly intimidating guitar player called after the two of them, finally hopping off of the stage and excitedly waving to get their attention. He had a bushy black beard and hair messier than a bird’s nest.

Kiki tried to gather some courage by straightening her back and nudging Stone. He seemed to sense the tension in her muscles, so he delicately placed his hand on her back, putting in just enough weight to assure her that he was there.

“Oh, so it is your real name! Tough shit,” she mumbled as they moved through the crowd, earning a hearty chuckle while he answered various calls of 'Hi, Stoney', 'What’s up, Stoney', 'Hi ya, Stoney', 'Stop by for a shot, Stoney' and a bunch of other greetings. “Seems like I’m hanging with the popular kid, that’s an unexplored territory for me.”

“Chill out, you’ll fit in just right. The starving artists of Seattle generally respond well to greenies and you're undoubtedly irresistible.”

Irresistible.

That’s the word that occupied Kiki's head as he locked her bike to the rack in front of a parking lot with the leather strap and lock she fished out of her pockets, but then she noticed there was another, bigger bike next to hers, similarly battered and covered in stickers.

Mötorhead, Butthole Surfers, Nets…

She frowned, took out her watch and checked it before finally tying it around her wrist.

Where did this thing come from? I’m supposed to be starting the shift. Weird.

She sank her ears into the fluffy scarf and headed towards the Raison D’Être. When she turned the corner and reached the door of the artsy café, she took a bundle of keys out of her backpack to open up.

But the key didn't go in, as there was one already slotted in from the other side.

“The hell…” she sighed and pressed her nose against the frosted glass, trying to decipher any signs of life. She knocked and heard an unintelligible answer before a figure rose from behind the counter and walked up to the front.

When the door opened, Kiki found herself in front of a tall guy wearing a bizarre furry hat and a sleeveless basketball jersey, an interesting choice for this kind of weather.

Pearl earrings were hanging out of his ears and his face lit up with a wide cat-like grin. He towered over her, just like…

Dammit, get out of my head, beanpole.

“Can I help you?” the guy mused, leaning against the doorframe. He wore a ring on every finger and multiple beaded necklaces of different sizes and colours dangled from his muscular neck.

What a character.

Kiki chuckled and rattled her key bundle in the air.

“Can I help you? You seem awfully suspicious,” she shrugged and mirrored his stance. He giggled.

“You must be Kiki. I’m Jeff, really a pleasure to finally meet you,” he stuck out his hand and waited for her to shake it. Just as she reached out, he gently took her fingers and kissed the cold knuckles, old-fashion style.

She huffed, but couldn’t help a little blush.

“Uh, that’s me. Great to meet you…Jeff? Oh, yeah! Rod told me about a Jeff on sick leave,” she said and silently thanked him as he motioned her to come inside. “Glad to see you on two feet! Word has it that you got injured in a freaky water polo accident or something.”

Jeff laughed and the youthful energy around him only intensified. He locked the door again and jogged to catch up with her, helping her out of the leather jacket like a proper gentleman.

He had a pleasantly light cologne, mixed with the scent of coffee beans as he was just in the middle of grinding them. And a faint hint of weed that was nowhere near as arousing as her dream made it out to be.

“Yeah, I busted my knee. Playing basketball, just to clarify.”

“I mean, there’s a ball and there’s a net, right? The only basics that matter,” Kiki wiggled her index finger at him and grabbed the barista apron he offered her. It had a bright psychedelic print on it, almost hypnotizing. Jeff snorted.

“Jeez, thank god my friend Stoney isn’t here, he’d fall in love with you on the spot,” he mused and her smile fell a bit, eyes wide.

Oh.

Her cheeks grew red, she tried to play it off by nonchalantly scratching her forehead.

“Would he now?” she smirked and Jeff nodded, leaning against the counter as he lousily wiped it with a damp rag that he took out of his back pocket.

“With that smart-ass-will-o’-the-wisp-punk thing you got going on? Madly,” he looked Kiki up and down and gave her another disarming grin. “Fortunately he’s at work, little baker boy at Grand Central.”

“Let me guess…”

She folded her arms and put on a thoughtful frown. She hoped that Jeff’s comment was supposed to compliment her.

“About yay high,” she raised her hand as far as she could, “…bad dye job, ridiculous scrunchie…” she counted on her fingers and Jeff’s jaw dropped, laughing as she continued.

“...bug-eyed, punchable face…”

Stone smirked as the bearded man patted his shoulder a few times after greeting him and before he could ask about his female company, another man joined them, a mane of curls flowing around his face like a sea of black seaweeds. He had a linen shirt on, opened all the way to his navel. The singer.

“‘Sup, Stoney? The guys went for a blunt but they’ll be right back. Who’s your little friend?” he mused and then stopped in his tracks for a second before slapping the bushy guitarist's stomach with the back of his hand.

“Kim, that’s Keeva. As in Kiki. No way,” he whistled and the guitarist, Kim, raised his eyebrows with a surprised nod.

“Oh! Oh, right! Jesus, hi, we were wondering when you’ll show up! I’m Kim, pleasure,” he extended his hand and Kiki bashfully shook it, her cheeks full of a crooked smile.

The singer chimed in with an introduction, almost cutting off his well-spoken friend.

“I’m Chris, so nice to meet you! We’ve heard about you shredding your way through this shithole, but you never showed up! We were starting to think you’re just an urban legend!” Chris ruffled her hair and giggled as if he was a genuinely happy child receiving a new toy for Christmas.

Stone chuckled, flicking her nose for the sixth time that evening.

“See, I told you you were a fucking cryptid.”

“Sylphs are known to migrate to America during this time of year, Stone. No wonder you dropped out,” Kim added, theatrically widening his eyes as Kiki rolled her eyes and scratched the back of her neck, grinning.

“Cool, so I don’t have to introduce you,” Jeff giggled and adjusted his hat. “When did that happen?”

“Last night. We met on the way to the Off Ramp. We were running late but he took me through a shortcut,” Kiki shrugged, walked behind the counter and hopped up on it.

She grabbed a small blackboard propped up next to the cashier and started writing down the Monday special - Hazelnut espresso.

Chris was a very attractive man, no doubt about it. He was even taller than Stone, but he filled the space around him, whereas Stone seemed to poke out. Even though Chris’s mane of curls had twice the volume hers had, Stone’s hair was somehow messier. Chris’s eyes were a cold shade of blue, but they felt warm and comforting. Stone’s saucer eyes made her want to look away, despite having an inviting golden hue.

He was everywhere, sticking out no matter who he stood next to.

“He, uh…he left an impression, that’s for sure,” she mumbled and cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the choking grip that was his face behind her eyelids.

“Like you wanted to slap him?” Jeff squinted, grinning again when she vehemently nodded.

“He’s good. A smart-ass for sure, plus there’s his whole chess club thing. But he’s kinda a brother by now. Oddly hot, chicks dig him. But don’t tell him I said that,” he wiggled with his finger when she gasped. “Doesn’t play ball, though, so that’s a little dent in his coolness.”

Chicks dig him, huh?

Oh, and of course he plays chess. Perfectly annoying.

“Depends. I mean, I personally never really got the appeal of sports. I’m more of a cheerleader,” Kiki smirked as Jeff’s smile grew even wider.

“Oh man, talk about two peas in a pod,” he muttered under his breath and disappeared into the back room for a moment before emerging with two big mugs.

“Fuck, I almost forgot. I kinda knew you were coming, so I made this when I opened up. Just a little welcome surprise,” he shrugged and handed her a warm cup of tea with milk. “A small piece of home, right? Hope you’re not allergic to milk or something.”

Christ, is everyone here a sweetheart? Talk about culture shock.

“Fucking hell, thanks so much, Jeff,” she pouted, humming when she took a sip. “Oof, it tastes better than my gran’s.”

“Maple syrup, that’s the secret ingredient,” Jeff winked and sipped on his coffee as well. “So, how did ya like Soundgarden?”

“Phew. It was breathtaking, seriously. I’ve never heard anything like that. And everyone was so nice, too. Stone introduced me to the band and stuff. We had a couple of beers, it was great…” she rambled and waved her arms around excitedly.

“How old are you? Can I even buy you a drink?” Chris chirped, squeezing her nose. Kiki grinned at his friendly gesture.

“Relatively fresh nineteen,” she retorted, her voice coming out as quacks as he still held onto her nose. He gasped.

“My god, you’re a baby!”

“Right?! Found her in a corner, too,” Stone chimed in, scoffing when Chris reached up and pulled his nose as well.

“Shut up, Stoney. You’re just jealous that you’re not daddy’s favourite child anymore,” he quipped, let go of them both and put his arm around Kiki’s shoulders. “Don’t listen to him, sweetheart. He may be barely legal but he still doesn’t know proper etiquette.”

She chuckled.

“Well, I don’t have citizenship yet and I’m fully legal in England. Therefore, there's technically nothing to feel bad about as I don’t exist in the federal records,” she shrugged and Chris laughed, the curls bouncing around his face like little black springs.

“Oh, Stoney, she’s a little minx, too. Now you’re in trouble, friend,” he slapped Stone’s scrawny shoulder and ruffled his hair. Stone shooed his hand away and shook his head, hoping his red hair would make the furious blush blend in.

Jeff clapped his hands like an excited kid.

“Wicked! Wait, are you even old enough to drink?” he teased and Kiki rolled her eyes.

“…and then everyone was like ‘Man, thank god Jeff isn’t here, he’s a fucking asshole.’” she added, making him laugh again. “I’m nineteen.”

“Jesus almighty, you’re a baby!” he exclaimed with a gasp and she closed her eyes, shaking her head.

Baby, we’re in the same boat here…

The words echoed through her head as a vicious queue to make her throat tighten once more.

“Here it goes again. Come on, you can’t be that much older!” Kiki crossed her arms and he straightened up proudly.

“I’m twenty-four,” Jeff retorted, but it definitely sounded like a kid trying to sell their age as grown and wise. That made her grin.

“Okay, big guy, I’ll believe that when I see your ID.”

Jeff was about to protest and reach for his wallet, but a firm knock on the front door made them both jump.

Kiki didn’t turn around, instead, she instinctively looked at her wristwatch while Jeff set off to check.

Hm. We open in an hour. Who’s -

“Dammit, Ames, I knocked like four times. If you want a new guitarist, just tell me. Making me freeze to death a bit overkill.”

The nasal voice from her dream created a wave of heat inside her, running through her body like someone dumped a bucket of scorching coffee on her head. She looked over her shoulder and there he was, in the flesh, right in front of her.

He had his big brown jacket on, a puffy checkered scarf bundled around his neck and a neatly tied burgundy bandana. His comically large hands were poking out of woollen fingerless gloves and he rubbed them together, slightly shivering.

When he saw her, he cracked into a wide crooked smile that made tiny little dimples appear on his frostbitten cheeks.

Irresistibly smug.

“Oi, cheerio, Baby! Beautiful morning, innit?” Stone chirped, putting on an atrocious accent again. Kiki narrowed her eyes.

“Well, look who it is. Are you stalking me, beanpole?” she hissed, the corner of her mouth twitching when he chuckled.

“You wish,” he raised an eyebrow and took off his backpack. “I came to welcome my rhythm section buddy Jeff back to the world of dead-end jobs.”

He mindlessly dropped the backpack on the counter and Jeff cursed, pushing it down to the floor.

“Dude, I just wiped it!” he frowned. “Did I miss something? What’s up with the baby?”

“She’s tiny, annoying and says ‘fuck’ like she’d just learned how to swear. Do the math,” Stone shrugged and flicked Kiki’s nose. She slapped his hand away.

“Give him a break, Jeff. It just makes him feel like a big boy,” she retorted and Jeff leaned against the counter, darting between them for a few seconds. Then he let out a huge sigh.

“Oh dear god, there’s two of them now.”

Kiki felt another wave of blood creep up her cheeks as Stone stared her down. He wasn’t wearing eyeliner this time, but his eyes were nonetheless overpowering.

Maybe even more so, strangely glowing in the dim morning light, seemingly lightened by the snow outside.

I don’t have time for this.

She stuck her tongue out at him, hopped off the counter and put the blackboard next to the cashier before turning her back to him. She began rearranging the to-go cups by size to occupy her brain with anything else but him.

He just smirked and loosened the top layers of his scarf.

“Andy’s not here yet?”

“Nope. Haven’t seen him since he brought me lunch three days ago. How was the gig?” Jeff questioned while he wiped off the snowdrops that fell on the counter from Stone’s backpack.

Stone leaned his elbows on it and rested his head in his hands, palms squishing his patchy red cheeks.

“Badass. The EP sounds even more incredible live, now that you have a comparison. There were, like, a ton of new people. Chicks everywhere, like mosquitoes. Hiro got hit in the face with a fucking bra. The whole of Sub Pop was there, too, all four of ‘em.”

“Were the guys there?” Jeff asked after a few moments of silence and the room suddenly filled with strange gravity. Kiki frowned a little and took a sip of her tea, trying not to eavesdrop. Stone sighed.

“Steve was. We kinda waved at each other, but we didn’t speak,” he shrugged and scratched his temple. He coughed to get rid of the strain in his voice.

“I met Baby, though, so that was significantly more stimulating. Intellectually, of course,” he mused and Jeff snorted, looking between the pair.

“Bet.”

Kiki turned around and hummed, still clutching her cup.

“Glad to serve, beanpole. When do I get to see the two of you play, anyway? I’ve heard that you’re hot shit and I’d love to confirm slash deny that,” she nonchalantly crossed her arms but tensed when she saw the sombre look exchanged between them.

Bad move.

“Actually, we just broke up. About a month ago,” Jeff mumbled and tucked the rag into his back pocket again. Stone’s expression turned serious again, hardening like a statue.

“It was for the best of all of us, we weren’t going anywhere.”

He didn’t sound as sure as he probably wanted to. He bit his lip and looked at Kiki as if he was waiting for her reaction. She let out a heavy sigh.

“Christ, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosy or anything,” she mumbled and Jeff shook his head, softly patting her back.

“No, no, it’s okay, we sort of initiated it, anyway. Musical differences and all that.”

“They told us to go fuck ourselves because we were careerists,” Stone chimed in and emphasized the word with bitter air quotes, clearly hurt by the sentiment.

Jeff smacked his lips and frowned at Stone, obviously trying to draw a thick line under that conversation. Kiki bit her cheek, thinking of something to say.

“To be honest, you do seem like little gold diggers,” she sighed and they both chuckled, which was a relief. “No, but seriously. Nobody’s punk enough to enjoy cleaning tables and swiping floors and scrapping for food. And if they say they are, they’re lying.”

Jeff and Stone exchanged a small content smile, obviously glad that someone was on the same page with them.

“Yeah. Sounds good if you have three warm meals and a comfy bed secured at home. Like Stoney here. He has a little trust fund, don’t you?” Jeff poked Stone’s chest.

He began to turn red in the face and once again, Kiki caught a rare awkward crack in his facade. She opened her mouth wide and gasped.

“Aw, you have a loving family, Stoney? That’s not very punk rock of you,” she tutted and shook her head, grinning widely when he reached over the counter and squeezed her nose.

“Shut it, Baby. I’m a working struggling artist just like you…fuck!” His eyes widened. “What time is it?”

She promptly checked her watch.

“Quarter to six.”

“Uh, yeah, gotta run. The baguettes won’t bake themselves,” Stone explained, tightened his scarf and grabbed his backpack off the floor. He turned his attention to Jeff. “Be back for lunch, the usual time. My treat today, I’ll bring some grub. Got any grass?”

“Dude, come on. You’ll ruin me. This is the last time, I'm telling you, you’re buying next. I only have enough left for three spliffs, anyway,” Jeff firmly shook his head and shooed Stone away.

Kiki chuckled, trying to shut down her embarrassing thoughts.

She was afraid that Stone could hear them, observing himself puffing a thick cloud of illicit smoke in her face from an obscenely small distance.

He certainly looked at her like he was seeing it as well, a pompous grin plastered on his face as he raised his eyebrows, innocently questioning why she was so flustered.

“Well, you're free to keep my share, weed stinks like a sweaty ballsack. Always, no exceptions,” she added the last part to convince herself. She would’ve succeeded if it wasn’t for Stone’s loud wolf whistle.

“Would you look at that, Ames? We got a good catholic schoolgirl on our hands,” he chirped. Kiki mocked a laugh and gave him a middle finger, using her offensive gesture to obscure the patchy blush on her face.

Jeff giggled, reaching for the coffee mill next to him.

“Leave her alone, dude. I wanna catch a jam with her before she gets a restraining order against you,” he affectionately patted Kiki’s head.

“Don’t care, I’ll corrupt her sooner or later, that’s a cross I have to bear. Are you two free today? Parents are out of town, so we can get that jam off our chests. I get off at five.”

“That’s weirdly specific,” Kiki squinted at him, still red in the face. Jeff’s cheeks puffed with a throaty laugh as Stone tried his best to keep the corners of his mouth down.

“Depends. If you’re good enough, I may cut it down to four, just for you. Now, fetch me a keg of cappuccino to go, fair maiden!”

She gasped and flung her arm to slap his head, but he managed to jump out of her way. Jeff’s chirpy laughter echoed through the room as he raised his arms to keep them apart.

“Okay, Tom and Jerry, knock it off.”

“I’ll fetch you a cappuccino when you fetch me a breakfast croissant, baker boy,” Kiki hissed and Stone broke into a smug grin, skipping away to the door.

“Deal. Be right back,” he waved and walked right into a coathanger. He caught balance pretty quickly, though, and slung the backpack over his shoulder.

“Don’t threaten us,” she called back at him and cackled at his stumble. He blew each of them a theatrical air kiss and backed out of the door, disappearing into the light snow around the corner. Kiki chuckled, staring out of the window for a few more seconds.

The faint cloud of his strawberry shampoo lingered in her head, along with the sweet freezing air that emanated from his clothes.

Kiki had heard some girls swooning over Chris when she and Stone made their way through the crowd after the show. She wondered if girls talked like that about Stone at his band’s gigs.

Considering the amount of chicks that greeted him with the affectionate nickname, the ghastly purring giggles already rang in her ears.

She fixed her dissociated gaze at no particular place in front of her. Chris led her through the small venue to the bar, answering greetings from all sides.

“Hey, you ok?” he questioned and he squeezed her shoulder. She jerked, realizing he was probably speaking to her the whole time. Stone chuckled.

“She does that a lot, just zones out to make contact with the Mothership.”

“Har har, beanpole. Sorry, I’m just…getting a bit tired, I guess. Long day,” she shrugged and gave Chris an apologetic smile.

“It’s past Baby’s bedtime, you see?” Stone patted her head and she frowned, elbowing him in the stomach.

“I’ve spent basically my whole evening talking to you, Stoney. No wonder I’m falling asleep,” she put on a sarcastic smile and emphasized what was apparently the only correct way to address him.

Stone was just about to return the jab when Chris interrupted them with a hearty giggle.

“Shit, didn’t you say you’ve just met? Like, today? Can’t wait to see you twenty years of marriage deep,” he grinned and ignored their heated cheeks as he ordered a round of tequila shots.

After a few seconds of staring through the glass door, Kiki noticed Jeff in the corner of her eye, studiously watching her.

She did a double-take between the street and his smug smirk and frowned.

“'Sup?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he raised his arms in surrender with a small wink and then started grinding coffee again, humming. When she disappeared into the back room with a suspiciously bright grin, he added the lyrics.

“So this is love, mmhm hmhm…”

#pearl jam fanfiction #pearl jam fanfic #stone gossard fanfiction #stone gossard fanfic #stone gossard x oc #90s music #pearl jam imagine #mother love bone #pearl jam #grunge fanfiction #stone gossard #jeff ament #soundgarden #green river #grunge

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the-coffeeaddict-tim-drake · 6 days

Text

Just A Kid Next Door - Chapter 4

Bruce is finally back from being stuck in the time stream. Tim managed to save Batman and his loved ones. Now it is time for Tim to go home and rest. But the problem is that, Tim has no home. Or that's what he thinks so.

This will be a multichapter fic on how did Tim reconcile with his family. It will be full of angst, family feels and family shenanigans.

Masterlist

Here in the link to read the story in ao3.

-------------------------------CHAPTER 4---------------------------------

Removing his shoes, Jason entered the apartment. The apartment was pitch black, except for the light spilling from the kitchen. Sighing, Jason removed his helmet and gear and put them on the coffee table along with his duffel bag. After typing in the code on his wrist, he carefully removed his red domino mask as well.

Jason then made his way to the kitchen. He was wondering where did his little brother stay all this time, because last time Jason checked, Tim had sold the drake manor. And there was no sign of him in Gotham for last six months. It took Jason a whole week to search for his little brother before he gave up.

He knew Tim had a bad habit of disappearing out of the blue for cases and stuff, but their last conversation had formed a pit of dread in Jason’s heart.

Jason sees a lean but built figure facing away from him, sitting on the same barstool that Tim had sat last the time he visited Jason. The figure was clad in red and black Kevlar which included a black and gold utility belt crossing over his chest in an ‘X’ shape and long black cape.

“Jason” the person called out.

“Tim?” Jason asked, surprised.

Wasting no time, Jason went and stood in front of his brother. Long gone was the scrawny little child that Jason had encountered few months ago. The Tim in front of him was different.

Tim had hit a growth spurt. His voice was no longer boyish, it sounded smooth and deep, and he had even lost the little baby fat that he had on his face before, which is now sporting sharp features. His hair a little longer than what Alfred would consider decent. And the most evident thing is that, his brother was not scrawny anymore. He is built.

His brother is fucking built.

Maybe not as much as Jason, but he is still built somewhat equal to Dick.

Tim looked up at Jason, his eyes empty of any emotion unlike last the time he had seen him. Jason then noticed that Tim looked tired, like he hasn’t been eating and sleeping properly. And what Jason finds hard to believe is that he looks older.

He is not a small boy anymore.

His little brother grew up.

His little brother was forced to grow up.

His childhood was snatched away from him. He faced all the hurdles that this world threw on him, alone, even when he had a huge family for him.

“Babybird” Jason called out.

Tim’s eyes were cold, like all the life has been sucked out of him. And Jason can see a faint scar running from his right eyebrows to his cheek.

“Where the hell have you been, Tim? You know how many days I searched for you. Do you know how worried I was? I thought you were kidnapped, or worse kil-.” Jason stopped himself from completing the statement.

Jason sighed heavily. He was pissed.

“Bruce is alive, Jason. He’s in the Manor.” Tim said, his voice sounding almost robotic.

“Yeah Babybird, I knew. Supes informed”

“Okay” Tim nodded.

Silence filled the room for the next few seconds.

“Thank you for your time. I’ll take my leave.” Tim said while standing up and going towards the window. Jason blocked his way, but Tim did not even look up.

“What happened to you, Timmy?”

No reply.

“Talk to me Tim, what happened?” Jason held Tim on both sides and jerked him.

Tim showed no reaction. Jason’s anger flared.

“Six months, Tim. Six months. I haven’t seen or heard from you for almost six months. And now you pop out of nowhere just to inform me about Bruce’s arrival. Do you know how worried sick I was?” Jason spat.

Still, not even a single expression crossed his brother’s face. Jason felt like his brother was replaced by some stone.

“And did you come here just to inform me about this? After all this time!"

“I doubted the others in the Manor would inform you. That’s why I came here to do it myself.” Tim said, his expression still stoic.

“Fuck” Jason cursed.

He started pacing back and forth while running his fingers through his hair. Tim’s behavior was pissing him off. His brother behaved like a complete stranger.

“Please Jason, let me go.”

“No fucking way, replacement”

Tim sighed. Jason was at least glad for the first human emotion that his brother showed since he came.

Jason didn’t know what else to do. His little brother looked like he was haunted. Pale face, fading scars, dark eye bags and serious expression was not what he expected from his brother when he entered his safehouse.

So Jason did the only other thing that was left out.

He hugged the kid. He noticed that Tim had grown considerably tall, he was now upto Jason’s ear.

This made him feel bad. He had missed seeing his little brother grow up to an adult. ‘Almost an adult’ his brain chimed.

Tim became stiff. And then he almost melted into the hug.

Tim snuggled closer to his brother.

“I missed you so much, baby brother” Jason said, after a minute into the hug.

“I’m not a baby, Jason” Tim hissed.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, but right now you are acting like one” Tim scorned

“Sarcasm still intact, I see”

Tim huffed. Jason laughed and ruffled his his hair while breaking the hug.

“I missed you” Jason said emotionally.

“I know”

“Fuck you, replacement. The correct answer is ‘Yes, I missed you too, Jason, my all time favorite brother” Jason mocked, in an exasperated childish voice.

Tim shakes his head, hiding a small smile. Jason was happy to be the reason behind it.

Jason broke the silence after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

“Did you go and see Bruce, Tim?”

Tim visibly stiffened. His cold demeanor was back again for some reason.

"Yes"

‘Did I say something wrong?’ Jason thought.

“You went to the Manor?”

“No”

“Then how did yo- wait, you went straight to the watchtower?” Jason asked, surprised.

“Kinda”

“How did you know about Bruce though? Did superman tell you?”

“I figured it out myself, Jason. Tim scoffed, becoming restless by each passing moment.

"I was trying to prove the exact same thing all these months, but nuh-uh, everyone said I’ve become crazy or something. But look how that turned out, huh. I was there in the watchtower, helping the league in bringing back Bruce by the way.” Tim rambled, his voice sounding angry.

“Oh”

“I’m sorry, Babybird. I shoul-should’ve believed in you. But- ”

“But what, Jason? You all thought ‘Oh poor little Timmy has lost it. He is unable to accept his mentor’s death. He has finally lost the little sanity he had left in him” Tim mocked, his face clear with annoyance and anger.

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault”

Tim sighed. He ran his fingers along his hair. He looked everywhere but at Jason.

“No no, I’m sorry Jason. I know I sounded a little crazy back then. Hell, I sound crazy even now. But you should have at least had a little bit of faith in me.”

“I’m quite relived that you did not call me out for being crazy and thought I would become a villain or something” Tim said, recalling the times he have overheard heard the other justice league members and superheroes talking behind his back.”

Jason felt like shit. He felt bad for not believing his brother when he knew that the young boy’s hunch is never wrong.

“I’m sorry, Tim”

Tim gave Jason a tight lipped smile before moving towards the window.

“Will you be coming home, you know, to see Bruce?”

A few beats of complete silence followed.

“Home? What home?” Tim said bitterly, before pulling over his cowl and jumping from the building.

#Tim drake fic #tim drake angst #good parent bruce wayne #dick grayson is nightwing #batfam #jason todd is red hood #damian wayne is robin #gotham #alfred pennyworth #tim drake needs a hug #jason todd is a little shit #young justice

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daedalusdavinci · 2 years

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"i want to deserve you. I'm trying to deserve you" twobats

this one mightve gotten away from me a little. apparently i have a lot of thoughts about two face reforming. thanks for the ask!

send me a yearning ask!

Two Face woke up panting from a nightmare he couldn't remember, disoriented and terrified. Sitting upright was like fighting an uphill battle against Bruce's pile of blankets, which was about as heavy as a brick wall. However, the struggle gave him enough time to remember where he was, before he tried to reach for a gun that hadn't been there for years.

Next to him, Bruce grunted, grasping his pillow closer.

Two Face took a deep breath. The initial fear still clung to him, but he tried to think past it, remembering what his therapist had said about counting his senses.

Bruce's bedroom was almost pitch black, with only the faintest streaks of moonlight leaking in through the bottom of the curtains and the door. It was their bedroom now, really, but Two Face still had trouble thinking of it as anything other than Bruce's, no matter how many of his possessions filled the closet. The sheets were still warm in his hands, and he could feel Bruce's knee pushed against his thigh, hidden somewhere under the blankets. Somewhere in the room, a clock ticked softly, and Bruce's breathing was steady and slow next to him.

The fear faded. In its place, a strange kind of hollowness felt heavy around Two Face's heart.

Not wanting to wake Bruce up, or have his little crisis in this room that was supposed to be his, but felt like it'd only ever be Harvey's, Two Face swung his legs over the side of the bed. Grabbing his glasses and a robe from the wall, Two Face crept quietly out of the room, heading downstairs to the kitchen.

The kitchen, at least, had always felt like less of an intrusion. He had countless memories of sneaking in with Bruce when they were young to steal Alfred's cookies, or away from a party. The older memories softened the present, making it easier to accept.

Plus, the kitchen had coffee, and maybe cookies, if he was lucky.

Fortunately, Harvey came through. Alfred's old jar was getting low, but there were still enough cookies left for Two Face to sit on the counter and enjoy a quiet midnight snack. Bruce's kids were too old now for any impression he made to rub off on them, but it still felt freeing to let his manners slip a little in the dead of night.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before he heard the stairs creak. He doubted it was even a half an hour. Bruce's hair stuck up in every direction, his expression like that of the walking dead as he shuffled into the room. He hadn't even bothered to tie his own robe, and his shirt still rode up on his hip. He joined Two Face at the counter wordlessly, stepping between his thighs and tipping bonelessly into him.

Even with the strange feeling pushing in on Two Face's heart, he felt a wave of fondness as he opened his arms for Bruce. Even if Bruce wasn't his, even if he felt like an interloper in Harvey's life, it was hard to think of pushing Bruce away when he was so sleepy and clingy- or at least, as clingy as Bruce ever got. He set his coffee down and combed his fingers through Bruce's hair, dragging his nails along Bruce's scalp, the way he liked most. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"S'fine," Bruce mumbled. His lips found Two Face's collarbone, his arms snaking around Two Face's waist. "Something wrong?"

When he was tired enough, Two Face could almost imagine that he heard Matches's accent in Bruce's voice. It had been years now, since Harvey had finally opened up those memories to him, but sometimes he thought a part of him would still never be past it. It felt like just another way that he didn't fit into this.

He sighed, leaning back on one hand. "I'm not Harvey."

Bruce paused, absorbing that information. But he didn't pull away. He never did. "The question still stands."

Two Face shut his eyes. He wasn't sure if he would've preferred it if Bruce did pull away. Maybe it would've been easier if Bruce didn't love him, and if it was just Harvey. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so confused all the time.

But Bruce stayed, his fingers dragging slow circles along Two Face's back.

Two Face pressed his face against Bruce's hair, curling back around him as he moved his arm around his shoulders. It took a minute to find the words, to form them on his tongue and push them out into the space between them. "I want to deserve you. I'm trying to deserve you."

Bruce's hold on him tightened. His palms dragged over Two Face's back, his lips pressing into Two Face's neck. "You do. You already do."

#twobats #bruharvey #two face #harvey dent #bruce wayne #batman #batman fanfiction #my fics #tumblr drabbles #asks

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makethatelevenrings · 2 years

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For All the Light that I Shut Out ch. 2

hiiiii I lied, I’m posting chapter two here also. Again, this is on ao3 if anyone wants to hop over here and read it.

Newspaper. Stack of files. Cup of coffee. Bagel from the accounting floor break room.

Lily arranged the items perfectly in a line before heading back to her desk to log in and check Lucius’ agenda for the day.

“Good morning, Miss Amapola.” She nearly jumped out of her seat at the sound of the smooth voice in front of her desk. Did the door even buzz? Bruce Wayne held up a badge with a polite smile and she nodded in understanding.

“Mr. Fox isn’t in yet, but he should be here in the next few minutes. Can I get you anything? A coffee?”

“That would be great, thanks.” He leaned against her desk and crossed his arms over his chest. Lily pointedly ignored how his suit jacket sat across his incredibly broad shoulders. She poured the ochre sludge into one of the few extra mugs they had lying around and turned back to look at him.

“How do you take your coffee?”

“Black is fine.”

Her lip curled up into a smile as she passed him the mug and watched him take a sip out of the corner of her eye. He grimaced at the taste of the bitter brew and Lily wouldn’t lie that she felt a little pleased.

“Do you need anything else or just waiting for Mr. Fox?”

“Just waiting. Have you worked here long?”

Lily started to stack up the research reports she needed to read for the day and shrugged. “Two years. Mr. Fox hired me during my last year of college.”

Mr. Wayne ran a hand through his hair and shot her a charming grin. She ignored his clearly flirtatious action and instead focused on lining up her highlighters. Three minutes until Fox would walk in. She could handle three minutes.

“Gotham University?”

“Mhm.”

“Let me guess…fashion design major? President of your sorority? Did a few clubs?”

She let out a high pitched, fake giggle. “Something like that.”

Lily checked the time again just as the door swung open. Mr. Fox glanced between the two younger folks and smiled. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, sir. You have no meetings today but you have a dentist appointment at three,” Lily reported. She took his coat and hung it on the hooks she had installed on the wall next to her desk.

“Miss Amapola was just telling me about how you found her,” Mr. Wayne explained. “It appears that Wayne Enterprises is fortunate that you hired such an outstanding applicant.”

“Oh, I practically begged her to work for me. Lily here has the most impressive resume I’ve ever seen.”

Mr. Wayne looked at her in surprise. “Really?”

“Bachelors in biomedical engineering and chemistry. Masters in engineering. Summa cum laude…what am I forgetting, Lily?”

The dark haired woman brushed a stray curl out of her face and then held up her hand to count off her fingers. “President of Omega Phi Beta, creator of Gotham’s Latinas in STEM, president of the first generation graduates program, Society of Hispanic Engineers, and…club soccer. Yeah, something like that. Now, if you gentlemen excuse me, I have to go do some work in the lab.”

Lily grabbed one of the files on her desk, smiled tightly at Mr. Wayne, and headed into the cavernous basement. Bruce watched her go, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

“He sounds like a royal ass,” Nadia announced. Lily snorted out a laugh at her little sister’s declaration and took a sip of her wine before she placed the glass on the counter and turned back to the simmering pot on the stove.

“I’ve dealt with worse,” Lily reminded her. Her voice slipped into something more relaxed compared to her usual perky assistant voice. She was a born and raised Gothamite, of course. “A whole lot worse.”

The younger Amapola raised her glass in acknowledgement and then took a long drink. “You shouldn’t have to do that. You’ve proven yourself time and time again and yet no one gives you a chance.”

“Preaching to the damn choir,” she muttered. “Can you grab plates?”

Nadia rose from her seat at the sagging folding table that took up a good portion of the kitchen room and passed behind her sister. She continued speaking as she laid two plates on the counter.

“What am I gonna do without your cooking?”

“You’re only going to be an hour away,” Lily chastised. “Besides, it’s time you start learning to cook for yourself.”

“You’re breaking my heart here.”

Lily rolled her eyes but tugged her sister into a side hug. “I’m gonna miss you, kid. Even if you do eat me out of house and home. But you’re going to kick absolute ass.”

Nadia squeezed her tightly before nudging Lily out of the way so she could dish up their dinner. Lily acquiesced and moved to the table. Her apartment was small and shabby, barely housing three people comfortably. Paint peeled and chipped all along the walls, leaving ugly holes that exposed the slapdash plaster job underneath. The wooden floors creaked and groaned with every step and water stains marred certain blocks. Rats and cockroaches scurried across the floor more than Lily would like, but it beat living on the streets.

Lily’s roommates, Miles and Geena, were school teachers currently both at their night time jobs as a drag queen and bartender. The three had met thanks to a Craigslist ad and they were pleasantly surprised to find out that the others weren’t ax murderers.

“Lils…I just want to say thanks,” Nadia said as she sat the plate down in front of her sister and took a seat next to her. “I know it wasn’t easy for you to get us here and I’m so thankful for the sacrifices you made.”

Lily swallowed hard past the lump in her throat and fixed her gaze on the dirty windows across the room. Her lips pursed and she shrugged. “I did what we had to do to survive. You’re the one who got into medical school. You did that all on your own.”

“You and I both know that’s a lie. I wouldn’t have done it without you pushing me.”

“You go and see her?” Lily asked quietly. Nadia shook her head, scraping her fork against her plate instead of looking at her sister. Lily nodded and let out a huff of air.

“I’m proud of you, Nadia. Really. Even if you didn’t get this opportunity, I would be proud of you.”

Her little sister, her best friend, was leaving for Metropolis in the morning to start medical school. All the nights curled up under cardboard on the streets and huddled together on cots in homeless shelters and days when Lily would give her the little remains of food that she had as she slept on an empty stomach…it was all worth it.

Nadia clasped her hand over Lily’s and squeezed it before focusing on her dinner once more. Lily turned her attention to the TV with the news that droned on and on. The most recent story caught her attention and she stood to get closer to the screen.

“-eaking news. Police officials finally released a report regarding a vigilante dressed as a bat has been seen targeting certain members of the public. The Batman, as he is now being called, is listed as highly dangerous and unpredictable, capable of taking on an entire SWAT team. However, some cite the Batman as a helpful entity. His actions are credited with uncovering corruption in the GCPD and the subsequent resignation of Gillian Loeb. Commissioner Gordon states that there is no reason to be afraid of the Batman, unless, that is, you are planning on committing a crime.”

“Woah…a vigilante. That’s fucking sick,” Nadia commented. “You think he’s actually going to make a difference?”

Lily shrugged, her dark eyes still locked firmly on the TV screen. “First time for everything.”

#bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne x oc #bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #lilyfic

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larrytimelines · 3 years

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July 2021 complete timeline

July 1 (Thur): Robert Harvey posts a pic of Louis in the studio working on LT2 (link).

Holivia is seen by fans having drinks, walking and having dinner in Island of Giglio (pictures and videos here). Within 30 minutes of pictures dropping, there is an article about Holivia on a romantic Italian getaway (link). Deuxmoi posts a ‘spotted’ pic of Holivia at dinner (link).

Deuxmoi mention Holivia’s Italian vacation in their weekly email newsletter, as well as recap Jason and Keeley going on romantic dates in NY on June 26th - further confirming them as a couple (link).

Jason & Keeley are papped on several dates in NY. Ted Lasso is deemed a strong Emmys contender.

July 2 (Fri): Louis is seen watching a EUROs game with Oli in London (videos and pictures here).

Not seen, but Holivia were taking the yacht pics in Monte Argentario (link).

Ted Lasso is expected to “sweep Emmy nominations”. And everyone loves Ted Lasso.

July 3 (Sat): Louis watching the England EUROs game with Calvin, Charlie Lightening, Ella (E’s bff), Ella’s boyfriend, Eleanor and friends (pics here, here; videos here, here).

Holivia in Rome, attending the England v Ukraine match, they are papped and fans take pictures with Harry (pics here, here, here, here, here, here, here and here; pap pics; videos here, here, here, here and here).

Lottie posted a picture of Freddie on her stories with the text “mini Louis” on it (link).

July 4 (Sun): No updates.

July 5 (Mon): Louis is papped and pictured with fans outside the studio (pics here, here, here, here, and here).

Yachtgate pics from Backgrid of Holivia dancing, lounging and kissing on a yacht drop and Page 6 exclusive. Pics from Monte Argentario on July 2.

Page 6 exclusive about Jason being in NY with the kids and how he’ll go on a promo-tour for Ted Lasso soon. They talk about how Jolivia take turns taking care of the kids and that he’s dating Keeley.

Jul 6 (Tue): Article and pap pics of Louis debuting his long hair to the press and greeting fans while signing autographs outside the studio. Article is positive, light, and mentions his record-breaking livestream last December (link).

Articles about Holivia’s “romantic” Italian getaway & how well Jolivia are co-parenting

July 7 (Wed): Louis is seen watching the EURO games with friends, including Oli, Eleanor, hot Luke, Alana, Ella (E’s bff), Ella’s bf and more (videos here, here, here, and here, pics here, here, here and here).

Articles about Holivia’s “steamy” kiss and “romantic yacht dance” on their Italian vacation

July 8 (Thur): New pictures and Page 6 exclusive of Holivia on the yacht. They try to distort the timeline and say it’s a different day, when it’s all from the same day. Emphasis of articles is on how hot shirtless Harry Styles is kissing Olivia (link).

And another Page 6 exclusive about Holivia being “holed up at a romantic luxury resort in Porto Ercole”.

July 9 (Fri): Super Hi post a video of Louis recording LT2 at the studio (link). And a fan posts pictures with Louis outside the studio (pics here and here).

Louis posts a video for BSL “sign of the day” challenge (link). Isabella Signs says that all she did to get Louis to film the video of him signing “singer” in BSL was ask him (link).

More articles about hot shirtless Harry Styles kissing Olivia in Italy.

Articles about Jason throwing the 1st pitch at a baseball game with his kids come out.

July 10 (Sat): Louis is seen with Oli and hot Luke at a EURO soccer village in London drinking beer and having fun. A fan reports that he smelled gooooood (pics here, here, here, here, here, here and here; videos here, here and here).

Some articles about Holivia kissing in Italy and Jason with the kids at the baseball game.

July 11 (Sun): Louis is seen attending the EURO final at Wembley with Eleanor (pics), and spotted walking among fans in the streets of London (video and pics here).

Article about Jason and Keeley being a couple.

July 12 (Mon): Exclusive 369 merch is sent out to fans (link).

Articles about Ted Lasso’s “overwhelming” reception.

July 13 (Tue): Jason is the cover of GQ and he confirms he and Onlivia broke up in November 2020, that he hit rock bottom, but has “chosen to land like an Avanger” and is moving on and “not heartbroken”. He says he “still doesn’t have clarity” in regards to their breakup. He also got 20 Emmy nominations for Ted Lasso, which were announced today in a move of HIGHLY calculated timing and PR (link).

July 14 (Wed): Love On Tour is rescheduled to start September 2nd 2021 only in the US. Canada dates are cancelled (link here, and here).

Louis’ DC and NY tour dates are rescheduled (they had been rescheduled a long time ago but many fans didn’t notice) (link).

Articles about Jason’s GQ interview - focus is on his split from Olivia.

July 15 (Thur): Harry likes Gemma’s post on IG (link).

Article about Olivia being focused on co-parenting and how she’ll always do what’s best for her kids (link).

Jason attends the Ted Lasso premiere in LA.

July 16 (Fri): Olivia is papped going to the gym in NY (link).

Deuxmoi expands on trashy tabloid rumors that Holivia getting engaged/married in Italy is a real possibility (link).

Articles about the rumor that Harry and Olivia got married in Italy.

Articles about Jason attending Ted Lasso’s premiere on the 15th, wearing a shirt supporting black English soccer players who faced racist abuse after England’s EUROs loss (article link).

Articles about Jason wearing a bracelet his daughter made him that spells out “daddy” to the Ted Lasso premiere (article link).

July 17 (Sat): Harry is papped arriving in LA (video and pics here).

Jojo pics says a friend saw Harry getting his covid-19 vaccine in London (link).

Fans post a video of them meeting Louis at the beach (video and pics here and here). Another fan claims Louis was close to her work (link).

Eleanor posts picture where Louis’ leg can be seen at a rocky beach (link).

Olivia and her daughter get their nails done in NY according to Deuxmoi (link). Deuxmoi posts a ‘spotted’ post about Olivia being seen at the Fort Greene farmers market in NY (link).

Articles about Jason wearing a shirt supporting black English soccer players.

July 18 (Sun): Articles about Ted Lasso.

July 19 (Mon): Olivia is papped arriving in LA, pics and video are released. In the video they ask her about ‘online rumors’ that her and Harry already got married, and what her ring size is. She replies that she isn’t “ever gonna talk to you guys” (link). Article is also released (link).

Deuxmoi posts a ‘spotted’ post about Olivia with her daughter Daisy getting their nails done in NY allegedly on the 17th. They claim they could see both of them smile (even tho they were wearing masks) and dance to WS and her daughter mentions Harry (link).

Jason is papped arriving in NYC with an avocado plush toy after being away on a Ted Lasso press tour (article link). And more articles about Ted Lasso.

July 20 (Tue): Deuxmoi posts story claiming that Holivia “are very serious” and that “word is they’ve talked about” getting engaged/married. She also posted a story about Jeff Azoff (link).

Jason is papped wearing a tie-dye sweater in NY and goes on The Late Show With Stephen Colbert (link). More articles about Ted Lasso and Jason’s anti-racism support.

July 21 (Wed): Article drops clarifying Jason is not dating Keeley and is, in fact, single, and seen out at a bar with friends and model Irina Shayk (link). More articles about Ted Lasso and Jason’s anti-racism support, as well as articles about Jason playing with puppies on GQ.

Articles about Olivia “responding to Harry Styles marriage rumors”.

July 22 (Thur): Louis says on Twitter that he lost his phone during the EUROs, and tweets from an Iphone (link here and here).

Eleanor posts video of Bruce swimming at the pool in Louis’ public house and a picture of herself at the house (link).

Olivia is papped getting coffee in LA (link).

Articles about Olivia “responding to Harry Styles marriage rumors”.

Jason goes on the Today show. More articles about Ted Lasso and Jason’s anti-racism support.

July 23 (Fri): One Direction’s 11th anniversary! Louis thanks fans on twitter (link).

Unseen video of One Direction, shot by Cal Aurand in 2012 is released (video link).

Article about Olivia getting coffee in LA on the 22nd drops (link).

Olivia posts a picture on her IG story at the Dumbo Soho House and says that DWD is nearing the end of picture-lock (link). Picture is likely old.