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puppiesandnightlock · 4 months

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Link: A Robin's Song (Chapter 4)

Summary: found here

“A NIGHT TO REMEMBER: BUY YOUR PROM TICKETS NOW!”

Damian was hit in the face with banners, posters, and flyers littering the school grounds the moment he’d walked in.

“Here we go.” He sighed, preparing himself for two months of watching cheesy promposals, disgusting amounts of PDA, rejections, and annoying phrases that only served as a reminder to his nonexistent love life.

A few months had passed by, Jon and Haisley still going strong, although in Damian’s opinion, he and Jon were not.

Sure, although they considered each other best friends still, and talked at least once every day, they’d done less together. Jon was always out with Haisley, Damian taking care of his siblings and his job more so now that his father was working longer hours to keep up with the rent, despite the fact that Damian’s online presence was covering at least half of their bills and groceries.

Incidentally, Damian's Robin persona had grown big to where he was being offered contracts and agents. He denied each of them saying he already had an agent, but thank you.

(Tim preened when he found out that he was the agent Damian had.)

Robin had done a few covers, the past three hit singles having left people demanding more. His most popular video that wasn't one of his original songs was one where Jason had wrangled him into performing a duet song with him from a musical.

There hadn't been much inspiration lately, which surprisingly counted as a win. Less need for venting, less emotions killing him inside. However, as previously mentioned, kept his relationship with Jon a bit more strained. He’d gotten more used to avoiding Haisley during lunch, unfortunately meaning he was avoiding Jon, too.

He’d met some people while “in hiding” as his brother called it, a red-haired boy named Colin who’d saved him from being spotted by a teacher during lunch and they’d found that they had gym together, a person who went Akira who frequented the library and was always willing to be silent company or recommend some books, coincidentally in his AP Lit, and most recently, a girl called Skylar in his Art class who’s saved him from embarrassment when he left his sketchbook in the class, opened to a page full of doodles of Jon.

There was still hope held out that they would grow as close as they were before, although the Kent that frequented the house more now was Kon, as he, Tim, and Bart Allen, who was one of Tim’s 4 closest friends, would go to the elementary school to pick up Dick, Jason, and Bart’s little cousin/sort of brother, Wally.

It was one rainy night that it finally did happen, a football game that he’d taken a rain-check on due to Duke being out and his father on the late shift.

Jason, Cass and Steph were fully asleep, a feat to behold. Tim had been ordered to bed, technology confiscated, but knowing his brother, he would have some way of finding more.

Dick was up with a warm cup of milk with some honey and cinnamon due to a nightmare, curled up with Damian.

“You should go to bed, little bird.” he pulled the empty cup from the five year old’s grasp.

“W’nna wait for Daddy…” the child argued, although he was on the brink of falling to sleep’s clutches.

“Daddy will be there when you wake up.” Damian assured him, carrying him to the shared room at the end of the hall.

Despite the protests, he fell asleep before he was even in bed. His older brother smiled softly, brushing the hair to the side and kissing his forehead. Jason was asleep in the bed next to his, one arm hanging off the bed and clutching a book.

Damian removed it and bookmarked the page, giving him a good night kiss as well. He did the same with the rest of his siblings, exiting the oldest children’s room as a knock on the door came.

He went to answer it, expecting Duke. Instead he was met with a tearful Jon, soaking wet from the rain and the tears on his face.

The paint on his cheeks from the game was smeared, and he was still wearing his football jersey, but none of the padding, and he was panting slightly.

Damian deduced he’d run directly from the locker rooms to his house, and he ushered him inside without a second thought.

“D-Damian-” He choked out, stumbling inside and falling into the shorter boy’s arms.

“Hey, hey.” He soothed. “What’s going on?”

“H-Haisley-” the heart-broken look on his face split Damian in two, causing him to lead him to the couch and sit him down.

He let him change into some of his oversized clothes, oversized for him meaning it’d fit Jon perfect, if not a bit snug.

Water had already been boiling for tea, so he got out a cup for jon. He stood behind the boy and held a towel, running it through the raven curls in an attempt to dry them.

The sobs had quieted to sniffles, and the hair was no longer dripping, so Damian sat next to him, his own cup of tea in hand.

“So.” He said, blunt, but gentle. “You gonna tell me what’s up or did you just come here to mope?”

Jon’s voice was rusty from the disuse and crying, so his first few words were slightly broken.

“I-uh, I had a fight with Haisley. Our…first. Bad one, I mean.”

Damian’s expressions morphed into sympathy, scooting closer to let the older boy lean on him.

“What was it about?”

He hesitated, then spoke, Damian’s hand running through the damp curls as Jon leaned on his shoulder.

“I didn’t notice a cheerleader was flirting with me, and I just kept speaking to her normally, you know, and by the time I did notice, she’d gotten too close. Haisley saw the whole thing and i thought she had come to help me, cause she took me away, but she started yelling at me-”

His voice cracked. “She’d seen the whole thing and said that I was too trusting and a pushover. I-is that true, D? I mean, i’m not the smartest and this was proof that i’m stupid enough to trust anyone-”

“Jon, stop.”

This whole time he grew increasingly more annoyed at Haisley for this, it hadn’t been Jon’s fault, and nothing had warranted the reaction and words she’d said. It was normal to be a little pissed, but that’s sorted out by communication, not harsh phrasing.

“You aren't stupid, and you didn't do anything wrong. It’s not your fault that you didn't catch on early, and if Haisley likes you like she says she does, she’d understand that. You should talk it out, both of you. I have a feeling that you didn't get a word in edgewise.”

He’d come close to crying again, but had refrained, leaning into Damian’s warmth. They stayed like that until the rain let up, Jon hugging him tightly before he left the Wayne’s.

“Thanks, D.”

It gave him a surge of some unexpected emotion, the way the other boy watched him with such reverence in his eyes.

It felt wrong, this joy, the spark of…hope.

He shouldn’t have been feeling like this, not for someone who was happily in a relationship.

But is he really happy? His mind taunted temptingly. How much more can you take? How much more can Haisley hurt him?

He shook his head, shoving the dark thoughts back.

No.

He would not surrender to his own urges so easily, and he would never if it meant hurting Jon.

_____________________________________________________________

On Monday, two days after Jon had come to the Waynes, Damian had stuck by his friend, Jon avoiding Haisley at all costs.

This kept up throughout the week, until Jon had gone to her with his tail between his legs, something that Damian had firmly advised against, seeing as she was the one who jumped to blame.

This was only the beginning of the downfall, arguments getting louder, happening more frequently, and towards the end, Jon fighting back. Damian had had the unpleasant experience of sitting in the middle of one, although he loved watching Jon fight back when she went too far.

Many times, they would end up on the Waynes front porch, or the Kents backyard, Jon leaning on Damian for comfort.

It was one of these nights where they watched the stars spread across the sky, Jon’s head in Damian’s lap.

He could pretend, for a minute, that this was real, that all of this here was for them two. These moments were savored, the small touches and honeyed words.

“Hey, Dami.”

Damian paused in playing with his curls, responding with a simple, “Hey, Jon.”

“You know about prom coming up? You gonna go?”

Damian paused. “Dunno.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“You can always tell me anything, you know that.”

“I don’t think I want to take Haisley to prom. I…I don’t even know how much longer we’re gonna last, the way these things are going.”

Something absolutely explodes in him, overwhelming his person with hope and excitement and disgust.

Disgust at himself for this.

“I see.” he settled on. Jon must have seen the emotions battle across his face because he turned a kicked puppy expression to him.

“You…don’t think I’m a bad person for this, do you?” his voice was shaky, perhaps on the verge of tears.

Damian was quick to soothe him, jumping in with an “I could never.”

“You deserve happiness, and if you feel like she’s hurting you, or you don’t feel that way anymore, you have to tell her. Especially if you don’t feel that way, because that could end up hurting the both of you.”

It was silent, the older boy absorbing his words. Then he smiled.

Just a small one, enough to see the pearly whites peak from soft pink lips. It was one that held the world to Damian, and however small, it made his heart skip a beat.

He wanted that smile to be directed towards him forever, to burn it into his memory along with all of his favorite memories of the boy.

It would stay forever, even if they wouldn’t.

After all, everything breaks at sometime, even the things created from the best and built to last.

“Thank you, D. Say, if I do ask Haisley, would you still come? To prom, I mean. Just cause she’s gonna wanna be with her girls and i’d like my company, maybe we can even find you a date!”

Damian paused, snapping out of the haze.

“I could find a group to go with, if you would like me to. I do have friends besides you, you know.” He teased lightly.

“Of course.” He stuck his tongue out at him. “But I’m still your number one boy.”

“Always.” Damian said, without hesitation, however the admission might have seemed.

He supposed it was possible that it could have been too blunt, as Jon’s pale complexion sported splotches of pink after, his blue eyes avoiding his gaze.

“It’s getting late. I should go.” He stood, shaking out his hair from where Damian had been toying with it. “See you tomorrow, D. Thank you for…all of it.”

“Of course” He stood as well, watching as Jon stuck his hands in his pockets and made his way up the street, watching until he turned the corner and disappeared.

With a quiet sigh, he walked back inside, shedding his day clothes for sweats and a loose top.

However tempting it might have been for them, his siblings said nothing as he settled on the couch between his two youngest brothers, scribbling words mindlessly.

He had half a song when he retired for the night, burning in shame as he read the cheerful, wanting words on the page. There was half a mind to tear it out, shred it into pieces. Guilt tore into him, the scribbles feeling as though he was exploiting what Jon had told him and wrapping it up in pretty paper to serve it to the masses. But another part, the one he despised and was repulsed by on a daily basis, told him to keep it.

Indecisive, and acting much like a child, he shoved it under his bed, the page burning a hole in his pillow the rest of the night.

_____________________________________________________________

It was back to the same old thing the next day, Jon and Haisley making up and going on as if nothing had happened.

It was times like these that Damian would feel actual concern, more than usual. If this cycle of pain continued, surely he would have to step in.

He ranted about this to Colin in P.E, who’d shrugged, and then Skyler in Art who had seen many similar things in her own friends, and now to Akira during lunch. They watched him pace, whisper-scream because it was a library and then slump in a beanbag chair.

“ Why do I love him?” He whispered, surprising even himself. He turned to Akira with a plea. They raised an eyebrow at him, bookmarking a page and saying gently.

“This is the first time in the twenty rants you’ve gone on this month that you’ve told me you love him. That means something. I know what, but I'm not going to tell you.”

“Because this is the part of the story where the main character has to figure their own way out with only the cryptid words of the friend?” Damian asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Yes, actually. And my cryptid wisdom for you has probably been yelled at you by everyone else you talked to today. It’s to tell him. And at the very least, do something with yourself that helps you. I don’t wanna hear the ‘but my best friend’ bullshit, just say it, and if you’re as good as friends as you say you are, he’ll let it go and y’all will go on with your normal life.”

Akira stuck their nose back into the book, letting Damian mull over the words that he’d been plagued with the whole day. They weren’t wrong, Colin had said the same thing at the beginning of sprints and Skylar had recounted past experiences.

His siblings had been drilling this into him for the past two years and it had never seemed in any way possible, but now it might even be necessary.

He got up as the bell rang, departing to his next class.

He deduced that if Jon didn’t ask Haisley, and they actually did break up, there was no rule against him taking Jon.

If he was ever going to tell him, it would be that week of prom. There was a month left, and as Damian entered his house, he ran for his bed and pulled out the half-finished song.

This was it. If he was truly going through with this, it would be on his terms, through his preferred medium.

Song.

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dementedspeedster · 7 months

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❀ Share a headcanon you have not shared.

Accepting || The Mun's Interpretation @deborahmorgna

I've probably shared all of my headcanons about Thad here at one time or another, but let me see....

Regarding how Deb and Thad, at least how I imagine it, I think:

They met when Thad was back in the future planning to get his revenge on Bart.

I don't think Thad was in contact with President Thawne during this time, but was half on the run from the Time Police due to his time traveling, and half running from Pres. Thawne during this period. So he was mostly on his own, save for when he was in his lab with Craydl.

In between planning and preparing the steps and of his plan to get revenge on Bart he was probably out and experiencing the future society a bit (because I headcanon that he didn't have any outside socialization as a kid; he knew things about the outside world, but never experienced it.), which is how he met her. I figure it was more of a chance meeting if anything where one or both of them were out causing trouble and interest and curiosity in the other. And that leads to seeing and meeting up with each other more and more as they find out more about the other and the things they have in common.

Basically it's by chance they meet each other, find out they're similar to each other, have issues with their families, and a connection forms with each other because they for the first times in their lives are just fully themselves with each other and aren't being judged or controlled.

#ask #deborahmorgna #I think i've written this up a bit better somewhere else i'll try to find that.#ooc

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violetwolfraven · 3 years

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Modern!Wormsies Headcanons because I’m terrified wormsies is going to die before 2021 gets here

Tw for mild horror. I don’t think this is that bad but read at your own risk. I don’t l know why I created it I just felt compelled to but don’t read it unless you’re as insane as I am and are fully prepared to read the most cursed thing I have ever created. Seriously. This is by far the most cursed thing I have ever written. Good luck. 💜

So anyway they’re not selling to survive obviously since it’s modern au.

In my modern au they’re all theatre nerds cause why not.

So they’re backstage one day and Race finds this blue thing behind an old set that has probably been there for several years.

Lo and behold, it is a worm on a string.

And Race is kinda weirded out and wondering who left it there but he’s like aight guess I’m keeping this thing.

He ties it to a strap on his backpack and forgets about it for the rest of rehearsal.

Then Romeo (one of Race’s 3 adoptive brothers, the others being Jack and Crutchie) notices it and f l i p s o u t.

Romeo drags over Specs and Jack and Crutchie to show them the worm Race found and they’re all like omg this is the best thing we’ve ever seen.

Race is still kinda confused but like hey whatever this might as well happen and he just figures if his brothers and his little brother’s boyfriend are gonna obsess over worms, why not join in?

They all get worms somehow. Romeo gets a green one, Specs gets a purple one, Jack gets a dark blue one, and Crutchie gets a yellow one.

When they all show up to rehearsal a few days later with worms, a few others pick up on it and are like lmao let’s join in on the insanity.

So anyway Albert gets a red one, Smalls gets a green one, Mike gets a purple one, Ike gets a yellow one cause it’s the opposite of purple, and Elmer gets a green one.

All the others are all kinda just whatever do what you want don’t involve us in your insanity.

BUT THEN

Over the course of the next couple weeks, only a couple more people join in on getting worms.

Sniper gets a purple one and Finch gets an orange one.

But what’s strange is that everybody starts noticing...

The kids with worms pick up choreography...

Faster and Better...

Than the kids without worms...

They’re stretchier and more agile...

...almost like..?

Almost like...

They...

don’t...

have...

spines..?

They wiggle just like their worms wiggle wiggle wiggle.

And Specs is the most logical of the ones with worms but even he fully believes his worm gives him special powers.

They spend their snack breaks talking about this and a few more people decide to get in on it.

Jojo gets a yellow one, Mush gets a dark blue one, and Blink gets a light blue one.

Davey, Spot, and Katherine still refuse to believe in this.

Sarah got a pink worm and they were all terribly disappointed in her.

But anyway they hold out their lack of belief despite how the kids with worms continue to perform better in dance numbers than the few left without.

Kenny caves and gets a dark blue one somewhere in here.

There are now a lot more kids with worms than kids without and the holidays are rolling around.

Ike gets Hotshot a red worm and Hotshot in turn gets red worms for all his crowd on the stage crew (Bart, Rafaela, Joey, Hildy, York, and Vince).

Hell, even the crew kids perform better with worms, it turns out.

Cause they can run fast to get places they need to be and squeeze through spaces they shouldn’t be able to squeeze through.

But anyway Katherine and Davey and Spot are starting to get a little creeped out.

Cause their friends and partners are starting to act more and more like they’re in a cult, even more than the cult that they’re already in (the drama club).

They pretend their worms have fucking personalities and make tiny hats for them and stuff.

And the ones left without worms are dropping like flies and getting assimilated to the other side.

Buttons gets a light blue one, Tommy Boy gets a pink one, Henry gets an orange one, and

And Sarah gets Les a green worm.

That’s kinda the last straw for Davey.

He fucking waits until his siblings are asleep and he throws their worms in the trash.

But mysteriously

They both have their worms back in time for rehearsal.

And Davey gets home that night and there’s a light blue worm waiting on his pillow.

He throws it away but it’s tied to his backpack strap the next day.

He flushes it down the toilet and it shows up in his favorite hoodie pocket.

He tells Katherine and Spot, super freaked out, but they don’t really believe him cause there’s no such thing as magic worms... right?

Then Katherine finds a purple worm on the seat she usually sits in during breaks.

She’s moderately creeped out so she leaves it there and goes to a different seat but the next break the worm is on that seat.

She can’t remember seeing anyone move it.

Meanwhile Spot is making out with Race behind a curtain (obviously) and Race

Race fucking pulls a red worm out of his sleeve like a scarf trick and gives it to him.

Spot is super weirded out by this and wants to just throw the dumb thing away the minute he and Race are done making out, but he just...

He can’t.

He can’t get rid of the worm, so he ties it to his backpack.

Katherine and Davey are mildly horrified that Spot has given in and won’t give up his worm even though you’re encouraging their cult-like behavior, Spot, come on.

Spot insists that he could throw away his worm if he wanted to, he just... doesn’t want to. And besides, he can keep up with the others on theatre stuff now, so why would he?

So Kath and Davey are

The

Last

Ones

Left

Without worms.

Davey’s worm is still following him around but he refuses to give in and he always gets rid of it as soon as he finds it but it always pops up again.

Katherine’s shows up less frequently, but it starts getting more and more frequent and she starts getting more and more freaked out as one night, she goes into her room and that fucking purple worm is on her pillow.

None of her friends have been to her house in the last 24 hours so this development is fucking terrifying.

She calls Davey and flips out on the phone to him about it and he’s trying to calm her down but Sarah ends up stealing his phone after a few minutes because she’s my girlfriend, Davey, not yours.

When Davey gets the phone back, Katherine is significantly calmer. He asks her if she threw the worm away.

She

Didn’t

Throw the worm away.

She claims it’s fine, that they might as well give in, Davey, we’re the last ones left without worms, just out of stubbornness. And anyway our friends with worms are doing fine; look at your siblings if you need proof.

Sarah and Les are having a tea party with their worms and Davey is getting pretty scared at this point.

He’s the last one left without a worm, though that blue one still always seems to show up wherever he is.

Until

Opening night

Their

Show

Afterwards everybody’s pumped up and ready to go to Applebee’s to celebrate and Davey is relieved because no one has mentioned worms in the last 24 hours or even really looked at the ones still tied to their backpacks.

He thinks maybe the others got bored with it and this thing is finally dying, especially since that damn light blue worm hasn’t showed up today either.

But then Davey is just sharing a nice coffee alone with Jack backstage (which he hasn’t done since the worm thing started because honestly his boyfriend was creeping him out).

Jack suddenly starts crying, and Davey’s all like hey what is it? Babe look at me what’s wrong?

And Jack just goes I’m sorry love I know it hurts now but it’s better in the long run trust me.

That’s when Elmer, Specs, Sarah, and Mush burst in behind them and grab Davey, shoving a bag over his head and dragging him somewhere.

When the bag is taken off of Davey’s head, he’s tied to a chair in the middle of a choir room that all his friends have somehow squeezed into.

They’re all holding their worms.

And Davey is like guys if this is an elaborate prank it wasn’t even that funny to begin with but now it is very very much not funny.

But Sarah just goes in a sad tone it’s not a prank Davey.

Les not looking like he’s trying not to laugh is what makes Davey believe it’s not a prank.

And Davey is legitimately terrified at this point because even Spot and Katherine are looking at him with a solemn kind of pity and when he asks them for help they just shake their heads and tell him everything will be okay.

He turns to Jack and is still clinging to that last little bit of hope that one of the people he loves might not have gone off the deep end.

That last little bit of hope that the boy he loves is still the boy I fell for. I know you’re still in there so please just untie me Jackie.

Jack looks like he’s trying not to cry but he doesn’t move.

Instead he says I love you Davey. It’ll all be over soon.

Do it, Race.

Race steps forward and Davey just about has a heart attack because

He’s

Holding

That

Goddamn

Light blue

Worm

And he takes some rainbow duct tape out of his pocket and tapes it to Davey’s shirt.

And the others all start chanting one of us one of us one of us as Davey can practically feel the spine leave his body and travel to another dimension where there’s a man who collects them.

It turns out the others were right that he should just give in.

Now it’s time for them to get the rest of the school.

Edit: here is my attempt to justify myself for this. 💜

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ednacrabapple · 3 years

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Tell us about what you think Edna would consider the best day of her life. What happened? Did it start off good? What made it so great to her?

I feel like this is gonna be long so the rest is below

So I actually have two answers - one in canon and one in my AU with my OCs

In canon, I feel like Edna has a bunch of days that she considers to be really great days - like the day she finally moved out of her parents house, the day she got her first teaching job, the day her divorce was finalized and she could get away from her terrible husband, and other days along those lines. But the absolute best day of her life was the day Seymour proposed to her.

She had mixed feelings throughout the day. She was super excited about the teacher of the year competition, but she was still so angry at Seymour. She was sick of him constantly putting his mother before her in every situation. She loved him and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, but she was fully prepared to leave him if he didn’t start standing up to his mother and treating her better, no matter how much it would hurt her.

She tried to push down all of her anger and stay focused on the competition, because if she won, it could literally turn her life around. But the moment Bart started pretending he couldn’t read, she had pretty much abandoned all hope. She was basically resigning herself to a life of misery when Seymour came on stage and revealed what he did, and then proposed to Edna. Edna knew she should be angry, but she just couldn’t believe that he finally proposed. She didn’t even care that he didn’t have a ring. She was thrilled that they were finally going to be together.

Even though they ended up not getting married, and even after everything else that happened in her life, Edna still considers the day Seymour proposed to be the best day of her life. Because for that brief moment in time, everything was perfect and it seemed like she would get her happily ever after.

In my AU, Edna considers the best day of her life to be the day Abbie was born (yes, it’s cliché as all hell, but, come on. It’s me. Of course it’s cliché).

Edna was beyond thrilled at the prospect of becoming a mom, but she was not at all okay with the thought of sharing her birthday. There are literally 30 other days in January, and she couldn’t believe her child decided it wanted to be born on the 21st, effectively ruining Edna’s birthday party. She was so miserable.

But of course she forgot all about how mad she was the second she saw Abbie for the first time. She loves kids so much, she spent her whole life waiting for the day she could have kids, and now she finally had one of her own.

Edna named her new daughter Abigail Elizabeth after her grandmother and her best friend, and just spent the entire day holding her and taking in how adorable she was.

She also loved seeing Seymour’s panicked expression when he came to visit them and Edna insisted that he hold the baby - he had never held one before and was afraid he would drop her.

Even though she started out her day completely miserable, she forgot about it all super quickly and now of course that’s what she will always consider to be the best day of her life.

Oh my god that was so fucking cliché I’m so sorry....

#thanks for the ask!#theawsomeheroine

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awhitehead17 · 4 years

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Universal Signs

Chapter 2 / Previous Chapter

Also on AO3

Enjoy! :D

Tim had no idea what was going on.

In a space (and isn’t that ironic) of what he thinks is a day, he’s gone from being a prisoner, to escaping, to crashing and now he’s following this stranger on a random planet to who knows where!

After a long debate in his head whether it was worth following the strange guy or not, he decides screw it. That pod he had travelled in was done for and wouldn’t be going anywhere else, so unless Tim wants to stay stranded on this unknown planet, he really had no choice but to follow this guy.

He kept his distance from him and followed him through what looked like a large group of trees as they travel to who knows where.

Communication was certainly an issue. Tim didn’t understand him, or the other two that briefly appeared, speaking in languages he had never heard of. What made it worse that all three of the strangers had different languages, yet they all seemed to understand one another just fine. The most success they had between them was sharing their names.

Kon-el. The guy he was following was called Kon-el. He seemed friendly enough, he was trying to make his actions clear enough for Tim to understand as he checked the pod he crashed and then the way he gestured for Tim to follow him. Maybe he wasn’t out to hurt Tim, but there was no way in hell that Tim wasn’t going to be defensive around him until he knows for certain. Just because he looks friendly doesn’t mean he truly is.

He grips the pole in his hands tighter as the two of them walk out into another clearing. He freezes at the tree line as he sees the space ship in front of him. It was long, silver and clearly a newly built one. It reminds Tim of a cargo plane back home, only without the wings and engines, for a moment he wonders about the mechanics of it and how it’s supposed to fly but he shakes his head before he thinks about it too much. There are more important things to worry about.

The ship’s back door was open and going up and down the ramp were the other two strangers he had briefly saw earlier. They were busily loading what looked like long, shiny brown planks into it from where a large stack of them where on the ground just to the side. In front of him Kon-el walks towards them, saying something in that odd language of his.

The other two stop to listen to him, for a moment their glances turn in his direction before they start talking back. Tim watches, bewildered at the scene. He has no idea what they were on about, but the blonde girl seems to be getting defensive while the ginger guy was simply shrugging like he didn’t see what the problem was.

They seem to argue for a few more minutes before Kon-el was running a hand over his hair and sighing. His shoulder’s slump and gives his friends a pleading look, though it seems to be more aimed at the blonde rather than the ginger. It seems like his look wins because the blonde suddenly throws her arms up and storms away, heading back over to where the pile of planks were stacked.

Tim gapes as she easily picks up the plank like it weighed nothing and takes it into the ship. He gapes because the plank was easily 7ft long and at least 5cm deep, it’s like she has super strength or something.

“Tim.”

Hearing his name he turns his attention back on Kon-el who was stood by the door next to the ginger making the gesture of him to go over. Tim hesitates to. He had no idea of what these people were capable of, he didn’t know what they were saying and his instincts were telling him to run. However knowing that nothing else was waiting for him he starts forward, clutching the pole in his hands tightly and gets prepared to use it.

He gets over there and stays a good few feet away. Kon-el says something to his friend who nods before turning to him. “Bart.” He says simply. Tim blinks at him, not understanding. Kon-el points to his friend, this time his tone firmer than before like he’s trying to make a point. “Bart.”

It takes a moment but Tim thinks he seems to get it, “His name is Bart?” The two of them nod, the ginger’s head moving at a much quicker pace than Kon-el’s.

Kon-el then points to him, looking at his friend, “Tim.”

Bart smiles and frantically waves in an over-excited way. Unsure on what else to do, Tim waves back which just makes Bart grin even more. Apparently waving is a universal sign of ‘hello’, good to know.

Kon-el turns and points to the blonde who was still loading the planks into the ship. “Cassie.” This time it clicks quicker. So his friends are called Bart and Cassie, that’s helpful.

They stand around for some time and Tim feels extremely awkward, he’s in an unknown place surrounded by people he’s never met before in a situation he has no absolute control over. It seems like they’re waiting for Cassie to finish loading the ship before continuing to do anything

The situation is made worse then, because the other two start speaking to one another, he couldn’t understand what they were saying but Tim certainly knows they’re talking about him from the glances they keep directing his way. He scowls and looks away. Tim doesn’t appreciate being spoken about and not understanding any of it.

Eventually the blonde finishes loading and the three of them talk as a group again, each of them nodding and making gestures before finally moving. Tim stands there awkwardly beside them, having no clue on what he should be doing with himself.

Eventually it seems like they all come to some sort of agreement because they were all nodding and then start making their way up the ramp and into the ship. Well, he sees Cassie make her way up the ship, Bart on the other hand just disappears, like one blink he was there and the next he was gone. Tim couldn’t get over that, it’s like he had the ability to teleport or something.

It was all very confusing.

Kon-el starts heading up the ramp but after a couple steps he pauses and glances back, noticing that he hadn’t followed. The guy makes the gesture of ‘follow me’ again. Tim looks away from him and around at his surroundings, one last time debating with himself whether this was a good idea or not. Swallowing hard he turns back to the ramp and starts making his way up it, being careful to maintain the distance between them.

Kon-el smiles at him and leads him up the ramp. Once they get to the top and were inside the ship, Kon-el pauses and turns to the wall where an electronic menu thing appears and he presses a few buttons, a moment later the door begins to rise up. Tim watches as it slowly ascends, he keeps watching until it fully shuts and locks them inside of the ship, there’s no going back now, he just hopes to god that he’s made the right choice here.

He turns around and finds the interior of the ship all lit up and Tim takes moment to look around. There were several storage containments alongside both walls that stretch far down the ship’s length, all of them different sizes and labelled differently. At the far end Tim could see a stairway which goes up to what he assumes is the next floor.

It was certainly different to the other ships he’s been on recently, however this one seems much more friendlier than the last one he had been on, but that doesn’t mean anything. Tim isn’t letting his guard down because anything could happen and he didn’t want to take that risk.

Kon-el starts walking down through the ship, waving at Tim to follow him as he does. Having no other choice Tim follows him. As he walks Tim finds that there are a few doors hidden between some of the containers, he didn’t see those at first and briefly wonders what they were for. Before he could think too much about it they reach the stairs and start climbing up them.

Tim follows Kon-el and soon finds himself walking through a door, that was on the right at the top of the stairs, and out into a corridor. This floor was completely different to the floor underneath them. A long corridor, which was filled with bright lights, stretches both ways. It has multiple doors on each side both ways and at both ends there were closed doors facing them.

Without hesitating Kon-el turns left and starts heading down the corridor, not knowing what else to do Tim continues to follow him. They walk past all the other doors and head for the one at the end, getting there Kon opens it up and they enter the room.

Tim gapes at seeing the room, it was clearly the cockpit of the ship. A large dashboard filled with millions of colourful buttons and handles filled out an entire bottom half of the wall, above that was a massive window which looked out over the planet they were currently on. Next to the dashboard were two chairs.

Behind that there was another two chairs with a small table between them. Then somehow the room kept going because on the other side of the room was a large round table with a few chairs around it, paper was scattered all over it and there was a whiteboard type of thing just off to the side. There was a small kitchen type of area set up in the far corner of the room by the table.

Tim couldn’t believe the size of this room. The ship looked small from the outside but inside it was huge!

Bart was in the room, currently occupying one of the second set of chairs and was eating something. Cassie was over by the whiteboard looking at whatever was on it, Tim had no idea what it was. Kon-el leaves him by the door to walk over to the dashboard, he takes a seat in one of the chairs and starts pressing multiple buttons.

Tim continues to look around in awe, this was nothing like the other ship he had been on. It wasn’t nearly as clean, or as high tech as this one apparently is. For a second time he wonders about all the mechanics behind this ship, wondering how it all works.

He must have been lost in his thoughts for a long time because suddenly there was a hand waving in his face. Startling at the sudden action Tim swings out with the pole that was still clutched in his hand. It doesn’t make contact with anything and suddenly Bart appears from nowhere just to the side of him. Tim blinks, trying to catch up with what just happened.

He looks wide-eyed at Bart who just looked back with a raised eyebrow. Then he starts talking and Tim is beyond lost in what he was saying, not understanding his language obviously doesn’t help but it seemed like he was talking a mile a minute and he couldn’t work out a single word he was saying.

From where she was standing, Cassie speaks up making Bart pause in his speech. He pouts at her who responds with her own raised eyebrow and stern look. Whatever she said to him must have gotten through because when Bart faces him again, he talks more slowly and almost looks apologetic.

“Tim.”

The call of his name gets him to glance at Kon-el from where he was sat at the dashboard. The guy meets his gaze and gestures to the chair next to the one Bart had previously been occupying. Tim could have a guess at what he was implying but didn’t move from his spot still at the door.

After a few beats Bart reaches forward and gently grabs his arm to tug him over to the chair. Tim jerks at the touch and tries to pull away but the ginger didn’t let up and simply dragged Tim over to the chair before pushing him down on it.

Tim blinks, processing what just happened. He’s briefly aware of Kon-el talking to Bart, the disappointed look on his face makes it seem like he’s scolding Bart for his actions. Bart says something back and just like that the two of them were conversing, to Tim it looked like they actually bickering but it was hard to tell.

Now with the attention off of him, Tim relaxes a little in the chair. It was soft and padded throughout, there was enough space to shift around if he wished to. The arm rests where wide and it even had a hole in at the end like it was a cup holder.

He turns his attention to the wide window and was surprised to find that they were slowly rising into the air. He didn’t even feel them take off. After seeing that a sense of panic once again came over him, he’s in a space ship with people he doesn’t know and can’t understand. Would he even be able to breathe once they were out of the atmosphere? Would they ditch him somewhere soon? Sell him off in a trade on another planet? Eat him? Probe him!?

Placing the pole over his lap, (the thing is his only defence at the moment and seems to be his lifeline) he buries his face in his hands. How has his life become so complicated? Who knows what’s in store for him in the next few hours and even days with this crew that had picked him up on abandoned planet. Tim has no idea if he’s prepared for it or not.

#Universal Signs #Space AU #Tim Drake #Kon-El #cassie sandsmark #bart allen #human tim #humans are weird #confused tim #humour #fanfiction #im trying out a new layout on here for this fic #not sure if its going to work though

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incoherentbabblings · 4 years

Text

Take Back the Cake, Burn the Shoes, and Boil the Rice (7/11)

Within two months there have been two murders of Gotham newlyweds moments after the ceremony. The only connecting factor was both brides wore the same designer’s work. Needing to establish who exactly is behind the crimes, Bruce enlists Tim and Stephanie to have the biggest wedding Gotham high society has seen in decades, putting a target on their heads not just for the killer, but Gotham society too. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

Ao3 Link Here!

“Hey…” Tim said, still lying on the floor.

“Dude!” Conner’s voice came through, exuberant. “Bart you were right! He did answer!”

Bart’s high-pitched giggle ran straight through Tim’s bones. It cut off abruptly as he processed Conner’s incredulity.

“Why do you guys always think my plans are bad?”

“Shush.” Cassie’s voice also drifted in. Tim must have been on speakerphone. “Tim… what is going on? Like… is this for real?”

“No way.” Said Conner. “You would have told us. It’s gotta be fake. Weird fake, but fake.”

“…It’s not fake.”

“Pardon?” Bart asked, being awfully polite. “Why didn’t you keep us in the loop? Or are you channeling Batman this month?”

“It had to be real. Like super real. No heroes, no nothing.”

“Bullshit, Tim.” Conner’s tone was fond, but a little exasperated. “Kara’s been on my ass about it too. Some of us have secret ids yaknow. No metas in Gotham rule aside, we could help?”

“I mean… it’s complicated. There’s a bunch of murders recently.”

Cassie sounded worried. “We saw the news the other day. You and Stephanie were shot at?”

“…Yeah. Someone’s targeting brides who wear this designer. Steph and I were trying to make ourselves the next pair on the list… the guy botched it and shot Bishop Sherborne.”

“So… once Batman catches Mr Always the Bridesmaid Never the Bride… then what?” Asked Conner. “No more wedding, I guess. Which – yikes – bud. I’ve seen the stuff online. Some people are being brutal about this whole thing. You have too many fake engagements people aren’t gonna believe a real one after that.”

Cassie piped up again. “Not to mention Steph is gonna be thrown into limbo, right?”

Tim was silent as he listened to his friends. He couldn’t explain. This is why he didn’t tell them. They weren’t doing it intentionally, but they were setting off all his alarm bells. It seemed Bart heard something in the silence that the others did not, and asked, more than a little befuddled,

“Wait… you and Steph aren’t together together for reals are you? ‘Cause, you really should have told us! Like no bachelor party? Really? No me as your best man?”

Conner sounded very affronted when he cut in, “Eh. No. That’s me.”

“You can have a girl as your best man right?” Cassie pondered. “Nowadays? I’d be good at that…”

Tim rolled onto his front, utterly depressed. “I don’t know. Know what I wanted… Know what Steph wants…”

It seemed Tim’s sadness finally clicked in the minds of his friends, and Conner lowered his tone.

“You getting your heart broken bud?”

Tim’s eyes grew wet. “I can’t help her.”

“Help her how?”

Cassie began to shoo the other two away. “Let me speak to him. One to one.”

“I can still hear the phone you know.”

“Shut up, Conner. I don’t want you and Bart butting in.”

“Rude.” Bart chirped, but did as he was told. There was shuffling, and the sound of someone being kicked, but soon enough it was just Cassie on the other side of the phone.

“Can’t help her how?” She repeated Conner’s statement, and Tim heard him huff in the distance.

“We… we both want to be together.”

“That’s…that’s good Tim. Right? So, what’s the issue?”

Tim sneered. She wasn’t making it sound good. They just wouldn’t understand, but Tim continued to try.

“But she… I thought she was in a better place. I thought I was in a better place. But the stress is getting to her. She’s tired of being judged. And that’s all I can offer her.”

Cassie was quiet but full of conviction when she responded, “I don’t believe that.”

“No but…Cassie I’ve never seen her like this. Like she’s three steps away from jumping out the window. And that’s supposed to be me. I don’t know how to show her, that she doesn’t need to be frightened. That other people don’t matter. People just aren’t coming on side, not entirely. Not even her helping Bishop Sherborne when he died was enough. And she’s losing her drive.”

“Could you…” She mused it over. “Have you got an event coming up?”

“The engagement party.”

“No, no. Something smaller. Something about your job. Something you could share with her. Show her she doesn’t need to be afraid to share a life with you. Start small to build back up confidence. Steph’s…she’s a little rough round the edges.”

“She’s from Gotham.”

“Exactly. But the more she does that sort of stuff with you, the more people will get to know her and that squidgy centre you talk about. I mean those engagement photos were beautiful.” Tim burned red. Of course, they had seen them. “And I want her red dress more than life itself, but that’s not her. Not you really either. You both do stuff outside of nightwork… do that stuff together y’know?”

Stephanie had asked him about his work. She had asked several times in fact. She had been on multiple visits to his office, watching as he went through conference calls, reports and other dry white-collar work whilst she sat with her college notes spread around her. She herself had said she was interested in what he did. Tim blinked, a plan coming together.

“…Thank you, Cassie.”

“My pleasure.” She said, sounding smug. “Is she there with you now?”

“No… we… we had an argument. She’s gone to cool off on patrol.”

Conner pinched the phone then. “Not to sound judgy, but man… she’s got a temper. And you said when she gets angry, she gets stupid.”

Defensiveness replaced depression, and Tim’s tone became a warning. “Conner.”

“I’m just saying. Think you should go find her.”

“She’s competent Kon.”

“…Sure.”

It was very difficult to not take an imagined slight to Stephanie as a slight against himself. “What’s that mean?”

“Listen, dude—”

A frantic beeping from his phone interrupted Conner. It was the distress signal of Batgirl, one that she did not ring often, or ever, and Tim’s heart stopped.

No. No. No.

“Have to go.”

“Wait –”

“It’ll be over in two weeks so bear with the radio silence.”

“Huh? Dude don’t shut us out after –”

“Bye.”

And he hung up, then rushed downstairs.

**********************************************************************

She had fallen, because if Stephanie suspected of how she would die, it would be from gravity being a bitch. Some bastard had shot at her, she had jumped to avoid it, then collapsed through the roof – rotten wooden beams giving way under her weight. She had crashed down with a horrendous smack, and likely had a concussion. Her neck had snapped in such a way that left her terrified to move her head. Her leg felt damp. Struggling, she pressed her little beacon. Someone would be on their way soon. Outside the building, she heard that man whooping in victory, trying to figure out a way in.

She was in over her head. She wasn’t paying attention. And now she was in agony on the dirty floor of some shithole in Gotham, a murderous drug lord wanting a piece of her.

Wow, she really was spiralling down.

And somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to blame Tim. He hadn’t caused these issues. He’d been honest with her, given her multiple opportunities to back out. And she had hurt him, in every manner of speaking. Even if he had been putting her under pressure… she didn’t…

She didn’t even blame Bruce, who was only trying to protect people, and entrusting his family to help him do so.

Her issues were hers and hers alone. Maybe she’d never really dealt with them, maybe she’d never really worked her way through them. Maybe she just buried it all. Ignore it, and it will go away.

She wasn’t sure how long she was left alone on the floor, safe from the man outside, but however long it was, it wasn’t enough for her to get back on her feet. Her head lolled on the ground, and she tried to push herself up. Keep moving, that’s all she had to do. She’d been through worse and coped. She only managed to get onto her hands and knees when someone grabbed her blonde hair and ripped her back, making her cry out in shock. Her neck clicked oddly. Her left leg limply dragged across the floor, leaving red streaks behind her, whilst the right spasmed, trying to get a footing so she could kick herself upright and punch the bastard, but her head injury was disorientating her beyond being of any use.

“Can’t believe it’s that easy to take out one of you lot.” The cold feel of a pistol pressed against her jaw. If fired, it wouldn’t kill her immediately. This guy wanted her to hurt.

No. She had to apologise to Tim. She had to… She had too…

She had no time to prepare a snarky comeback, because one of the family’s hook shots had rammed itself into the guys arm. He shrieked, hand dropping the gun and her hair, allowing her to roll away into the corner to get a better look at her leg.

She looked up, to see Tim, fully dressed as Red Robin amongst the rotting rafters, angrier than she had seen him in a long time.

She got caught between sharp relief and guilt. Tim had come for her. Dutiful, loyal, Tim.

Letting her head thump against the floor, Stephanie flittered in and out of consciousness.

Tim, meanwhile, had lost his temper.

He knew he was a bit overprotective of Steph. He also knew she was competent. She had been through a lot with and without him, and as Batgirl had saved Gotham multiple times over. He wasn’t a white knight coming to rescue the damsel, but something feral would be set off seeing her in danger. Didn’t matter if he was fifteen or twenty, someone hurting her, someone touching her, was enough to set him off.

It wasn’t like with Captain Boomerang, where everything was calculated, cold and methodical. Steph was hurt, Tim had the means to make the man who did it hurt.

And hurt him Tim did.

Stephanie watched most of it, not really in the right frame of mind to do anything but watch. She wanted to call for him, pull him back to her. But then she would black out for a moment. When she would reawaken, any chance at orientating herself would be lost from the view in front of her.

Bones were meant to be inside limbs, right?

Tim’s torture continued until Dick yoinked him away.

“That’s enough. Okay? Don’t make the same mistake as me.”

Dick was home? The thought was enough to cause the red to fade, and for Tim to start to catch his breath. His stomach began to drop. He’d done something stupid?

No. Where was Stephanie?

Nightwing had him held in such a grip that was designed to allow Tim to break out if he wanted, but also jolt into him some semblance of what he was doing.

Tim blinked, then wriggled out of Nightwing’s hold. His brother looked more than a little white at the scene before him. Tim’s chest was heaving, and he could feel sweat dripping off his chin. Slowly he turned to see what damage he had done, then immediately looked away. He had done something stupid. And potentially murderous. For her. Again.

Stephanie had somehow pulled herself into a sitting position, one leg laying limply at an angle. She was breathing heavily, trying to control her body’s response to the pain. Her head was tilted, resting on her shoulder, as if it was too heavy for her neck to support.

“Batgirl…” And then Tim was at her side, looking for the injury in her leg. She hissed when he got close, but from what he could see, there was no fracture, only a puncture wound.

“Landed on the crates. Mother of all splinters..!” She felt her eyes rolling around, vision a blur, and grunted to herself. Play it off. It’s not serious. She hadn’t messed up. Not really, not as bad as before.

Her tone was deliberately light, but Tim couldn’t bring himself to smile. He had realised that his hands were wet and didn’t want to pick her up if he was going to smear her in more blood.

“I’m sorry.” She said, taking Tim away from his brooding. “I hit you. I shouldn’t have.” She looked like she was going to start crying, the pain in her leg and head coupled with the guilt seemingly too much. “I don’t want to hurt you and I did. I’m sorry.”

Tim wanted very much to pull back her cowl and stroke her hair, but restrained himself.

“I shouldn’t have grabbed you the way I did.”

“No but –”

He shushed her and she whimpered. Shamefully, he gripped and wiped his hands on his cape, trying to make himself somewhat presentable, then very carefully, very gently, picked her up in a bridal hold. She cried out but reached up to wrap her arms around him.

Nightwing called both the police and an ambulance, staring at the dying man on the floor. Dick couldn’t do anything to help him, too many broken bones to even move him safely.

Tim watched Dick’s face grow cold.

“I’ll take her back to my apartment.” Tim said.

“No, you will not.”

Tim’s temper spiked again, though holding Stephanie he was unable to act on it as he would have liked. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

The signature sound of Batman’s cape fluttering, and the distant noise of sirens approaching, made the potential argument end.

“Nightwing, drive them both back to the Manor. Have Batgirl checked over.”

There was something very odd in Bruce’s tone that Tim wasn’t used to hearing, but it made him a little frightened.

“As said injured party member…” Chirped Stephanie, head craned back and straining her neck. “I feel like… I need a medical.”

“Hurry up!” Nightwing ordered, making his way to the batmobile. “You can drive my cycle but put Batgirl in the back.”

Four hours later, out of her costume and several stitches in her leg from where she had received the mother of all splinters, Stephanie’s head began to clear. She remembered Tim swooping down, and she remembered him hurting that man. Badly. Really badly. All because she lost her footing. All because she was in the wrong headspace to go out on patrol.

She was better than that. She knew she was.

She stayed silent, but when Tim returned to her side, the two stared at each other for the longest time. Neither knew where to begin.

Bruce started it for them.

“Do I even need to say what went wrong tonight.” There was no question in his tone. Just a flat, tightly bound anger that Stephanie nearly whimpered at the sound of. She shook her head.

“I messed up. I let my emotions get in the way and I got hurt when it was easily avoidable.”

If Bruce was impressed by her self-awareness, it did not show. He turned to Tim. “And you?”

Tim said nothing. Only glared. Stephanie pressed her hands to her eyes, she wouldn’t be able to block out the sound of the oncoming argument, an argument that was her fault, but that didn’t mean she was going to watch it.

“Tim.” Bruce pushed.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Nightwing, who had been sat a little back from the whole scene, piped up. “You know that’s a sack of bullshit Tim.”

Tim’s ears burned red, and Bruce didn’t miss the look of betrayal on Tim’s face at his brother. Seemed like that look was all Bruce was seeing recently.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” Tim repeated.

It was the wrong thing to say.

“This is just one more thing in a continuing dangerous trend with you and I have half a mind to –”

“I don’t answer to you anymore!” Tim was turning as red as his uniform, but Bruce would not be moved.

“You’re both grounded until the wedding is finished.”

Ordinarily, Stephanie would have fought back. Bruce was not the boss of her. Even Babs barely counted as a mentor anymore. Not really. She was her own keeper, and Bruce attempting to parent her was just an embarrassing effort at best.

Now, with her hands pressed over her eyes, blind to anyone’s expressions, she nodded her consent.

“Promise.” She warbled.

Tim on the other hand, was in the mood to fight. He was so wound up from the day’s events, with no outlet, that it poured out of him defiantly. His voice cracked childishly.

“No! No, no! She didn’t do anything wrong and her injury isn’t even that bad!”

Dick watched Tim grow increasingly frustrated and frowned. What the hell had he missed the past six weeks? Bruce was going to return in kind with an equal aggression that would only serve to blow the roof off the cave, so Dick decided it was his turn to intervene. He got up and shoved past Bruce, physically grappling Tim and dragging him away from Stephanie. Bruce could cool down for a moment and talk to the crying girl. He’d try to give Tim a reality check.

When they reached the stairs, Tim wriggled out of Dick’s grip, eyes still on Stephanie, but his anger was directed straight at Dick.

“What do you think you’re—”

Dick grabbed Tim’s arm again, shaking him, making Tim look at him. “I think Tim, you’ll be needed to look after Steph. Yeah?”

“I don’t need to be grounded to do that. I didn’t do anything wrong! I’m not being punished for something I didn’t do!” Tim protested, tugging back to remove Dick’s hand from his arm. Dick huffed, feeling Tim was letting his ego get in the way of the point he was trying to make.

“I really don’t care about that. I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re both off kilter. Take a break. Look after each other.”

“I am not –”

“Tim look at her!” Dick hissed. Bruce had moved over to Steph’s side, and sat next to her. Tim watched as the two talked.

“What happened?” Bruce asked, voice somewhat softer.

“I… I’m having a bit of a freak out at the moment.” It was an odd thing for her to confess to Bruce of all people, but he seemed to be listening. “The whole… pretending to be in love mission is throwing me off more than I thought it would.”

“Pretending?”

“Oh God…” She moaned. Where did Bruce get off sounding so confused? What did he even think of her and Tim as a couple? Were they that transparent in their pining? “I’m finding it emotionally taxing.”

Always easier to be flippant. Say exactly what you mean, but hide it under a layer of sarcasm as a back door exit in case the sincerity of the statement was called into doubt. Bruce did not doubt her. Instead, he asked her something else.

“Can you keep going?”

“I swore to.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Then Bruce leaned forward, grabbing her wrist. He tugged it away from her face so she wasn’t hiding her eyes. At the look she gave him, so tired and sad, his grip moved down to her hand, and she squeezed back.

“I can keep going.” She sniffed, her bodily pain catching up with her miserable mood. “Not gonna lie, Batman… I feel like I’m slipping back into bad habits.”

“That’s why I said no patrol.”

“I know.”

“You going to listen?”

She nodded. “No Batgirl for a couple of weeks…Promise.”

“At the very least you can catch up on sleep a bit.” It was meant to be reassuring, but Bruce’s claim made Stephanie snort a gentle laugh. “And work on whatever is troubling you.”

Stephanie’s smile faded. “I can try. That’s all I can do at the minute. I’ll fix it.”

“Okay. I’ll get Alfred to give you a painkiller to help put you down tonight.” Bruce looked to Tim, who was in the corner with Dick. He looked equally miserable but chewed his lip and walked back over.

“I want to take you back to the apartment, Steph, if you want me to. I’ll take a couple of weeks off with you.”

She nodded. “I want that. Lemme get my drugs first.”

Bruce’s eyes hardened a little as he inspected Tim, who was stubbornly avoiding his gaze. Their conversation would have to wait. Once dosed up, Stephanie wrapped her arms around Tim’s shoulder, and hoisted herself up so she could hop over to his car.

“Goodnight Bruce…thank you.”

His mouth twitched, but with what emotion, Stephanie couldn’t tell.

When they got back, Stephanie managed to get settled on the bed. Tim promised to stay up with her to ensure she wouldn’t pass out with nobody to check on her. She lay like her limbs were made of lead, her head resting on a pile of pillows trying to support her neck.

“I’ll be okay. Alfred said since I can hold a conversation and my pupils are normal, I’ll be fine.”

“Your pupils are not fine. They’re as big as dinner plates.”

“That’s the painkillers.”

“I know… I just…”

She smiled. “You worry.”

“Yeah.”

She looked down at her hands, wringing them together. Her fingers on her right hand settled on her engagement ring, and she sighed.

“I’m sorry Tim, for everything. The argument and the hitting and me being a brat for weeks…You don’t… you don’t deserve any of this.”

“I shouldn’t have grabbed you the way I did. And I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s really not.” He fought back.

“No…not really.” She wrung her hands. “There’s no excuse. I’m better than this… better than my dad.”

“You’re not your father.”

Stephanie nodded in response. He thought she believed him.

Tim, who up until this point had been standing on the other side of the room, moved to sit on the bed. He was facing away from her, but Stephanie could see both of their faces in his mirror. The guilt that was rippling across his face was hard to watch, so she stared straight forward instead, looking at the fat yellow duck at the foot of the bed. Tim saw her do so, and his fingers curled up in the bed sheets.

“Can we get some things out in the open? Like, brutally honest out in the open?”

“Interrogating someone whilst their high on painkillers? Sure. But can I start?” She asked. Tim screwed up his nose and nodded. Stephanie kept her eyes on the duck. “Why did you hurt that man so badly?”

Tim’s palms became sweaty, and he nervously wiped them down his sweatpants.

“He hurt you.” He offered lamely.

“No. This was… this was different.”

“It is related to why Bruce and I don’t get on much in the suits anymore.”

Understatement. She didn’t know what he’d done. She couldn’t know…

“You think you have to be that harsh? Your fighting is getting colder and crueler. I worry…”

“What I was doing before wasn’t working. I’m not Jason. Not that far gone. But I’m not… not the same person I was when I was fifteen, Steph.”

Please don’t abandon me for it.

Stephanie shifted, creeping out from under the covers. She curled up behind him, her sore leg still stretched straight, and then reached around so she could link their fingers. She was smiling a little dopily, and Tim would have found it sweet if he could have gotten the day’s events out of his head.

“Look at us. You’d think we’ve been through some traumatic things the past few years.”

Tim raised his eyebrows at her teasing. “Weird that.”

Steph laughed, though it sounded a little slurred to his ears.

“You know, I figured out a long time ago. Why I love you.” She whispered conspiratorially, begging Tim to play along. Eventually she would conk out, drugs and injuries tiring her out too much to stay conscious, but Tim let her take the conversation off track. Her breath and hold were so warm it was nearly feverish. She had seen him nearly murder a man, but then she had let him pick her up with blood stained hands, and she now held his fingers like nothing was wrong. Maybe the pair of them were beyond help, but Tim couldn’t give up the idea of a happy life for Stephanie. Preferably with him in it but…he wasn’t too picky.

“Why?” He muttered.

“You’re so gentle. So gentle. No other guy I know comes close to it. And, yeah, at first, I was infatuated with you because oh so cool Robin, so brave, so smart… but when you stayed with me despite the pregnancy… I don’t know how to put it… you have a giant brain and a giant-er heart. I don’t care about how well you can hurt people. That’s never been part of it. And I believe you’ve never enjoyed that bit of superheroing. Knowing you had come for me, that made me feel safe, that was all I needed. Watching you nearly kill that man…”

“I panicked.” He confessed. “You’d left on such shaky terms and then your beacon went off and all I could see was red. I was so upset.”

“I was frightened for what you would do. For a second.”

Her stating her worry seemed to almost traumatise Tim. An uncomfortable length of time passed as he worked through what she said in his head. Stephanie didn’t know him. She didn’t love him. Not who he was. Not really. That violence was part of him now. She said she knew him, but with who he was now staring her right in the face, she did not want it to be true.

She leaned closer, her breath a warm whisper against his neck. “I told you. I won’t let you forget. Especially seeing that violence tonight. I promise Tim. That’s not you.”

He choked a little when he responded, trying to play it down and play it off.

“I try not to think about it. The moment I do for too long, I’ll believe Bruce is right to be worried.”

“Nah. He’s just being a dad.”

A long moment of silence passed. Stephanie continued to play with Tim’s fingers whilst she did nothing but think through the day’s events. Finally, she pressed her forehead against the back of his neck, against the burn scar he had received what felt like so long ago.

“Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you love me? Actual quantifiable reasons.” She shifted behind him, uttering more to herself than him, “Gimme an ego boost.”

Tim answered immediately, “Because you’re brave. Because you refuse to accept your lot in life. Because you’re beautiful. Because you came back to Gotham when you had every right to leave forever. Because somehow, after everything he’s done to you, you don’t hate your dad.”

“Don’t like him either.”

She didn’t respond to any of his other points. She was trying to accept them as truth, as Tim had yet to lie to her for all of this hellish two months. But something just prevented her from absorbing it. That wasn’t her. Or maybe it had been.

“Not the same thing.” Tim sighed and leaned back. The way she was sat meant his head thunked on her collarbone. “Steph? You’re a good person. Even if you doubt it sometimes. Reason enough.”

Steph’s breath washed over Tim, smelling of the medicine she had slurped down earlier.

“I hurt you.”

“Remember when I throttled you and kicked you in the stomach?”

“That was different.”

“What do you want me to say? I’m a big boy and can handle an argument here and there. This pity party, Steph… it helps no-one. Speaking from experience here.” Tim’s mind drifted back to his conversation earlier. “I have an idea. Well, Cassie suggested it actually.”

“You spoke to the Titans.” There was a flat curiosity in her tone. It wasn’t aggressive, just resigned.

“They’re getting sick of being ignored. Don’t think embarrassment is going to cut it as an excuse anymore.” Tim watched as Stephanie looked away, ashamed from being chided. “Listen. I want you to come with me to do some stuff for work.”

“What stuff?”

“Tomorrow I’m visiting the community centre down the road. There’s an after-school club for kids whose parents work crazy hours. We funded the renovations and pay a few members of permanent staff. It’s just a fluffy photo op, but you might enjoy it more than anything else I do for my job.”

“How old are the kids?”

“Middle school and down.”

She sat still and thought it through. Tim sighed. “Listen. You once told me that I was going to drive myself mad one day.”

“You are going to drive yourself mad one day.”

“Why?”

She huffed, already knowing what angle he was playing. “Because you worry too much and have overly controlling tendencies when left unchecked.”

“…Yeah. Sure.” He tried not to sound too resentful as she relayed his flaws so dispassionately. “So, where’s Miss “The Only Variable You Can Control Is Yourself”? Huh?” Tim nudged her jaw with his forehead, causing her to grumble. “You do you, Steph. The rest will fall into place. Come with me to this event. Play some foosball with kids.”

She screwed her eyes shut, and Tim watched her at the awkward angle. Finally, her internal battle ended, and she nodded her head.

“It’s another thing for the job if nothing else.”

“I’m not asking you to do it for the mission.” Tim breathed. He couldn’t stop staring at her mouth. “I mean it’s a side perk sure, but I just want it to remind you that you’re not a bad person.”

Stephanie finally pulled away, back under the covers of the bed. Her eyes were wet.

“I’m maybe not a bad person but I am a mess. Don’t know why you put up with me.”

“That’s okay.” And Tim crawled over to her. Being unbearably tender, he pulled all of her hair to one side and began to braid it, hoping it would help her sleep better than her usual tangled mop allowed. A sudden memory occurred to him, and he smiled absentmindedly. “You’re worth a few stomach ulcers.”

She looked at him suspiciously at his weird statement, handing him a hair tie from her wrist as he worked his way down. “I haven’t changed my mind. About what I said. I’m not emotionally ready to be with you. Not strong enough yet.”

“Do you want to be?” He asked, tone light, trying to not pressure her too much. He finished tying off the braid with an exaggerated snap of the elastic.

“With you?”

“Mm.”

“I do, Tim.”

“Then I’ll wait. After this mission is finished, we can… start from scratch again. Take it slow.”

“…I like the sound of that.”

“And in the meantime…” He got under the covers next to her. “We work on one thing at a time. Like a checklist. Number one, sleep and work off that injury.”

“Tim…” She smiled, but it was brittle and fell very quickly. Tim stroked loose strands of hair away from her face, and she shut her eyes. “How do you know I’m not just using you? You could be with someone like Tam right now. Why stay for the promise of maybe?”

“Well, firstly, you don’t have a manipulative bone in your body.”

“That’s a lie.” Her voice was starting to slur. She was growing heavier and sleepier with each moment.

He quickly rebuffed her rebuttal. “Mmm? I don’t know about that. And secondly,” He rested his hand on her cheek. “I don’t want Tam, or anyone else. Just you. I want to be happy. So, I want to stay in Gotham. I want Bruce to get off my case. I want to help people. And I want… I want you. That’s all. Think that’s…pretty standard for a guy in his twenties.”

Softly, slowly, Stephanie had moved closer and closer whilst Tim mused aloud. When they were sharing a pillow, Tim’s eyes drifted down to her lips again, and chewed his own nervously.

“You can kiss me.” She said, tone still flat. “If you want to. For real.”

“…Not good for you. You said. Once.”

“Once.”

But Tim knew she was only saying so to punish herself. He may have been sick in love with her, but he still wasn’t so far gone as to make out with someone who, as far as he knew, was still pretty high on painkillers.

Then their foreheads were touching, and Steph’s hands were burying into Tim’s hair. He felt awfully cruel when he did so, whilst knowing it was the right thing to do, but Tim reached down, under the sheets, and pushed four fingers into her stitches.

She shrieked, rolling away on to her back. Her cry turned into one of laughter, then she groaned, writhing a little under the sheets as the pain in her head and leg sharpened at the sudden movements.

“No funny business madam.”

Breathlessly, she grunted, nodding a little too fervently.

“Sure, sure.”

She was becoming that last stage of manic before the exhaustion caught up with her, so Tim tried to gently press down on her limbs, one by one, hoping to create a reassuring weight to help calm her down.

“Things will be better in the morning. You’ll see.” He laid back down, wrapping an arm around her, essentially making them spoon. His hand reached for hers, and he began to play with her ring. “Wanna take it off? To sleep?”

She shuffled backwards, until the curve of her spine pressed against his chest. “S’okay.” And then she yawned, nuzzling her way into the pillow.

They lay in comfortable silence for a long moment, before Tim reached back to turn off the lights. When his hand returned to hers, she called his name, though it sounded distant and fuzzy to her own ears, as she was half asleep when the thought came to her.

“Tim?”

“Mm?”

“You promise to wait for me? Just a bit longer?”

“Promise.”

She squeaked happily, then promptly began to snore. Gone. Tim chuckled, then closed his eyes.

#timsteph #tim drake #stephanie brown #dc #my fic tag

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doctorgerth · 5 years

Text

Prompt Winner #3

Prompt: “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Description: Being a Straw Hat, you don’t really get to see Law as often as you’d like due to his own personal missions. When the Heart Pirates show up one day and a party ensues, you and Law sneak off to have a little party of your own. (fem s/o)

Rating: 100% Law smut, with a hint of fluff and angst

Warnings: cursing, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex

Note: This is uhh pretty filthy lmao and also really long as I got a bit carried away..... I completely understand if you want to skip to the sinful parts! No shame here. NSFW begins under the cut.

Body Party (Law)

NSFW

Prompt Story

(Word count: 5509)

"Look everyone, it's Torao!" Luffy beamed with an ear-to-ear grin as he ran to the head of the Sunny to greet his friend (first) and ally (second). Your heart skipped a beat at the familiar, rather endearing nickname your captain would use to call Law. You weren't supposed to see him for a few more days now, why the sudden appearance?

Nevertheless, that curious question couldn't stop your feet from trailing right behind Luffy as you trotted in excitement, eager to see if it was really him or this was all a dream. The bright yellow of the Polar Tang glistened under the sun, bobbing against the turquoise waves. Up on board were a few familiar faces, Shachi, Penguin, Ikkaku, Jean Bart, and Bepo. All were standing proudly, the rest of the crew following in tow, and your heart beamed seeing such wonderful friends again after so long.

Your eyes wandered, practically straining against the sun as you searched for the infamous dark haired, tattooed man. The anticipation was killing you! The impatience and eagerness to just see him again, no longer relying on his bounty poster for company, was keeping your body on the verge of explosion. Where was Law?

"Looking for me?" A voice whispered just behind your ear, immediately sending chills down your spine. It was a bit embarrassing, but you could feel the dampness of your panties already. Your heart threatened to break out of its cage at the lull of his voice, sounding more suggestive than you were sure he intended. Nevertheless, the tension was real and you were hot for him already.

Before you could even turn around to greet your lover, Luffy had already tackled Law to the ground, Chopper joining in, in a back-breaking hug.

"We missed you, Torao! Welcome back!" Luffy's infamous shishishi graced your ears and though Law definitely looked annoyed, the fact that he wasn't putting forth much effort to remove Luffy from his neck showed that he was at least a little happy to be back.

The rest of your crew joined, some waving at the Heart Pirates in greeting, some asking Law how his mission went. You stood against the railing, eyes threatening to tear up as you smiled at this heartfelt reunion. To have two of the most important groups in your life around you at once, you couldn't ask for anything more. But as much as you loved this reunion, the only thing that could make this better was a personal reunion between you and Law.

He seemed to notice you lost in thought and as your eyes met, the feelings of sheer anxiousness and need, reminiscent of when you first caught feelings for this man, pooled your stomach and shook the lower half of your body. He offered you a smirk as the people around him kept talking and for a moment, it felt like it was you two again. Everything disappeared in an instant as you offered each other welcoming smiles, but you were already tired of the distance between the two of you. He was right there, you just needed to touch him, feel his fingers on your skin, even if for just a moment.

It was to no one's surprise that Luffy called up a party between the allied pirate groups, no one could possibly reject the idea. Sanji immediately went to the kitchen to prepare food and drinks for everyone, Zoro very hesitantly started sharing his alcohol with some Heart Pirates, and Brook whipped out his violin to play some tunes. The party was already fully alive within minutes, the mingling of Heart Pirates and Straw Hats was an endearing sight.

Your eyes kept finding Law's among the crowd and he captured yours every time you found him, as if he was watching your every move. There was always someone between you two, other people begging to have each of your attentions, but your mind was only ever on Law and he seemed to display the same struggle with you. Your legs grew weaker with every suggestive look he shot your way, the two of you visibly getting needier by the second. Yet, he was making no effort to get you alone. You understood, because people would surely be questioning where you two ran off to, but you couldn't hide the disappointment you felt. Did he not miss you? Even a little?

You decided to tease him a bit, maybe pushing his buttons would garner the attention you so desired. Anything was better than shamelessly eye-fucking each other from across the ship. You needed contact and you weren't sure you could last much longer in his presence before needing to go relieve yourself, like you had been doing the past few months during his absence. You'd much prefer he help you out, but your patience was beginning to wear thin.

Ikkaku offered you a drink and you took it with grace, instantly bringing the cool champagne glass to your lips, making sure to take the drink nice and slow. Law watched with hazy eyes as you drank, wishing he was against your lips. He'd never been so jealous over an inanimate object before and he knew exactly what you were doing to him. It's not that he hated it, you were just making it damn near impossible for him to control himself! How dare you make him so flustered in front of your respective crews.

Your body could feel his eyes burning passionate holes into your body as he watched you with need, you had him right where you wanted him. You decided to turn up the heat by reaching for you hair, pulling at the pins and ribbons that kept it tied up in a bun. With a few pulls, you hair cascaded down onto your shoulders. Hooded eyes were what you offered Law this time as you shook at your hair, loving the way it felt down. Even from this distance, you could see the flush creeping along his neck and cheeks. You smiled at him suggestively before turning your attention back onto Ikkaku, allowing the burning desire to settle into his system.

There was a brief time when Ikkaku left you to go retrieve another drink for herself. You were left alone for a moment, watching as everyone talked and danced and drank amongst each other on the ship. It had been a few minutes since you had seen Law, so naturally your eyes scanned the crowd for his tall figure, but to your dismay, he seemed to be nowhere in sight. You double checked every area you could on the ship, trying to look casual as you searched for him everywhere, but there was no Law visible on the ship.

You huffed to yourself, you would think he would be begging to see you after all this time apart, but he hadn't even so much as hugged you since his return! You were definitely gonna give him an ear full when you got a chance to speak to him.

But your thoughts dispersed quickly as in a flash, you suddenly found yourself pinned harshly against cold walls you weren't too familiar with at first. Your eyes took some time to adjust to the stark white light and you realized you were in Law's room on the Polar Tang, the doctor himself pinning your arms above your head with a devilish smirk on his lips.

Your breath finally caught up to you as you looked up to your lover. Suddenly, tears swelled up in your eyes and you couldn't stop the dam from breaking as you cried his name, "Oh, Law..."

Surprised by your sudden burst of emotions, he released your wrists from his rough grasp, pulling you into his arms in a tight embrace. Your body shook from the strangled tears you were holding back, but your body instantly melded into his as he held you close, a free hand petting the back of your head.

"It's okay. I'm here." He cooed into your hair, feeling instant regret for not offering you his loving embrace sooner. He was rather shy with public affection, so he was just waiting for the right time to get you alone. He admittedly should have done so sooner, but all that mattered was that he had you now.

"I missed you so much." You whispered as your grip tightened into his black coat. You pulled his body into you, begging to have him closer as if it were even possible. He was here, tangible, right under your finger tips; you finally had him all to yourself, the sounds from the lively party barely a low mumble in your ears.

He pulled away only to look at you, a hint of sorrow in his eyes. His fingers placed themselves under the base of your chin, pulling you up to his lips, "Let me show you just how much I missed you, (Name)-ya." He whispered, his warm breath fanning your lips, sending desire-filled shivers down your entire body at the way your name rolled off his tongue.

This was what you wanted for so long, the feeling to be one with Law again was a need aching in your body since the last time you were connected. You had to manage yourself while he was away, but now he was here, able to fulfill all your desires. You wasted no time in connecting your lips with his, a satisfied moan escaping into the warmth of his open mouth. You remembered the last kiss you had, it was hesitant, dismal, a pitiful goodbye kiss. This one, this welcoming kiss, was what you dreamed of, warm, sensual, and desperate. You were an absolute fool to think Law hadn't missed you all this time.

His body pushed yours against the wall once more, your kissing now sloppy and hungry as his lips devoured yours. He wanted to make this special for your sake, but after missing you for so long and that relentless teasing you were shamelessly offering earlier, he wasn't able to control his carnal desires. He wanted to show you just what you do to him, he wanted you to know how torturous it was for him to be without you.

Your arms were pinned above you again as he continued ravaging you. His knee wedged itself between your thighs, forcing them to spread apart. You easily complied, offering an open invitation for his hips to settle between yours. The strain of his hardening member against his jeans was becoming agonizingly painful as he'd been dealing with it practically all night.

His lips left yours for a moment, instantly trailing down to attack your neck with harsh bites and licks. Meanwhile, his hips found themselves eagerly grinding against your core, begging for friction, "Look at what you do to me. Can you see what four long months without you has done to me?” Law left biting kisses down the length of your neck, his moans muffled against your skin as it felt so good for him to rock into you once again, even if fully clothed, “Shame on you for making me so weak in front of our crews. You're gonna pay for your teasing."

You could only hum in delight as he continued his ministrations along your collar bones. You weren't scared of what he would do to you, in fact, you would accept his punishments graciously. Your thoughts were racing with bliss as his lips had never felt so good on your skin before. His free hand roamed your body and you felt as if your skin ignited with his every touch, your head was spinning from the heat and lust pooling within you.

He released your wrists in order to free you from the tight confines of your shirt. Your breasts spilled out shamelessly, and for an instant, you felt your cheeks heat up in slight embarrassment at being revealed to him. The shyness easily left you however, as Law was quick to grab at your breasts with his tattooed hands, burying his face between the mounds. His calloused palms against your sensitive, perked nipples sent you reeling, head falling back against the wall with a rather loud thud as his fingers, lips, teeth, and tongue explored your territory.

"Oh, I've missed these." He muttered contently, taking your left nipple into his mouth. He moaned in pleasure at having your beautiful breast between his teeth once again, a fantasy he replayed over and over again in his head during his time away. The satisfied moans you offered him made his heart pound in his chest; he's been dying to hear these noises from you again and he was only aching to hear more.

A curious finger trailed along the smooth skin of your thigh, you hadn't even noticed at first due to your body weakening from his loving attention on your breasts. That was until the finger found its way along the outlines of your shorts, trailing along the hems and fabric, tauntingly circling around your most desperate area. Your hips wiggled against his touch and he chuckled in response, releasing you from his mouth with a slick pop.

As much as he wanted to plunge his fingers deep into your aching cunt, he wanted to drag this out for as long as possible. He knew he wouldn't last long if he just gave himself to you right now. His body was aching for release, but he wanted to take his time in ravishing your body until you were both exhausted from pleasure.

"Such a needy girl, you think you can just have your way right now? Not a chance, I told you that you were gonna pay for being so cruel to me earlier.” Law retreated from your heated body, and you instantly felt cold, hands almost reaching out to pull him back into you, “It's time for your punishment, my love. Get on your knees. Now." A lone finger pointed downwards as a visual command and you couldn't hide the smirk that fell upon your lips at his orders. He always loved to take advantage of your submissiveness.

You dropped slowly onto your knees for him, fiddling with his belt and zipper once your knees touched the floor. Law helped you slightly in the undressing process, but he was too enamored in watching you undress him yourself. You shimmied his pants down to his ankles, not realizing Law had kicked off his boots already. He stepped out from his pants and watched as you gawked at the tent in his underwear. Your mouth seemed to water as you pulled down the bands of his underwear, his hardened cock spring forth, grazing against the tip of your nose. There it was, the cock you knew and loved so well. The cock that has rocked your body countless times before and was sure to leave you writhing in pleasure by the end of the night. Those thoughts were enough to leave you practically dripping in your underwear.

Your hands went to grab at it with eagerness, but his own tattooed hands swatted your nimble fingers away, "Behind your back." He stated, a hint of playfulness in his eyes. You eyed him curiously, but complied with crossing your wrists and keeping them behind you. Normally he would secure your wrists with a tie or his belt, but perhaps he wanted to test you.

"Good girl, now open wide." He smirked, bringing his leaking tip to your lips, circling them for just a second, before he eased his cock into your mouth. Your mouth adjusted accordingly as he never ceased his penetration. He guided his dick further and further, brushing past your gag reflexes down your throat. A low guttural groan escaped his throat and his body shuddered at having himself sheathed so far inside you. Your warm, soaked mouth a perfect home for his needy manhood.

Tears stung your eyes at having your mouth so full of him. You gagged once or twice, but Law would be a liar if he said he didn't find the feeling absolutely tantalizing. He stayed still for a moment, and though it was a bit uncomfortable for you, you were content with the look of pure pleasure on his face. His hand went to cup the back of your head for support, tangling in your hair in the process, as he began to unsheathe his cock from your mouth, only to fill you up again; reveling in the beyond pleasurable feeling each time.

He found a steady pace, practically holding your head steady for his own use, but you incorporated your tongue work in the midst of him face-fucking you and he loved every second of it, "You still know how to suck me so good, (Name)-ya...so good..."

All conscious thoughts were becoming a blur in his head as he was driven mad with carnal desires while his cock pumped in and out of you. Your warm cavern and skilled tongue were working him to the edge, sending satisfying jolts through every inch of his body. He hadn't noticed for a second that your hands were shamelessly rubbing at his thighs, so when he finally realized, he pulled on your hair harshly, your low moans vibrating his dick in response.

"Are you trying to disobey me, (Name)-ya? I don't think you want that."

But you do, you thought to yourself. When you offered him a challenging look paired with rather lecherous eyes, he gritted his teeth, unable to contain himself any longer. He gripped your head with both hands and began relentlessly pounding his cock into your gasping mouth. You gagged so many times at his harsh fucking but you took every single thrust with pride, loving the feeling of choking on his dick. Law loved the feeling too, perhaps a little too much as his thrusting became sloppy and he felt the impending release tightening in his lower body.

"Hold still and you better swallow every last drop." He commanded, as if you were even daring to move in the first place, while he held you steady and you were eager to have your lover reach his peak. With a few more thrusts, Law came with three slow pumps, his thick cum already trailing down the back of your throat, "Fuck."

He pulled out of your mouth, pulling you up to your feet and kissing your cum and saliva soaked lips without hesitation. Your mouth was aching from his rough session, but his soft, intimate lips offered you comfort as he kissed you with utmost desire.

"On the bed, now. Get out of those shorts and spread those beautiful legs for me." He pushed you in the direction of the bed and you waltzed over with shaky legs. The excitement of what was to come next was hardly containable. You removed your shorts and soaked underwear quickly while Law cleaned the rest of himself off with a spare shirt. Your back fell against the mattress, spreading your legs in slight nervousness for him. The time it took for Law to turn around was long enough to make you anxious, you almost snapped your thighs shut out of embarrassment.

But when he turned around, the way he bit his lip to suppress the filthy words he wanted to spill seemed to garner you confidence as you only spread your legs further for his hungry eyes. He strode over to you, a hand loosely pumping his already hardening cock, lewd seduction heavy in his golden eyes. Having you sprawled out on his bed, legs spread wide open, pussy glistening with desire for him, Law could never get enough of that sight.

"So gorgeous..." He muttered to himself as he made his way to the bed. Before you could respond, he pulled you by the hips onto the edge of the bed, now dropping onto his knees for you, "I suppose you deserve some kind of reward for taking my cock so well earlier. Be a good girl and let me ravish you."

You didn't have to think twice about his offer as you placed your legs on his shoulders as confirmation. Your cunt was wide open and ready for his hungry lips, quivering right in front of his eyes. He marveled at the sight, a bit shocked at how bold you've become, but he knew you were just desperate after all this time spent apart; he was more than willing to finally satisfy you.

He placed tender kisses along your thighs, loving the way your body jolted with each touch. You were so sensitive and you bet your ass he was going to take full advantage of that. His kisses trailed down to your pubice, leaving soft, feather-like kisses there as well. Law was a grade A tease, and though usually you enjoyed it, right now you were becoming a bit frustrated! Your pussy has been craving his touch for months, and now he's decided to tease you?

That one curious finger from earlier made way to your core again, this time trailing the skin around every area desiring to be touched. His eyes were glued to your soaked core, just mesmerized by you for a moment, "After all this time, you're still so wet for me." His voice was barely above a whisper as he said this, "Let's see if you still taste so sweet."

Finally, finally, his tongue placed a curious lick against the whole outer area of your core, tongue pressing flat against it in a long, slick swipe. Your body rocked at the sensation, it was just too good, indescribable; and you needed so much more of it. Your fingers instantly tangled in his hair as his tongue continued swiping, as if he was learning every inch of your body all over again, but you both knew better. Law knew every inch of your body already.

His tongue made way between your folds, experimentally creeping inside your core, exploring the depths of your caverns. You accidentally forced his face deeper into you out of instinct, tongue fully sheathed inside you now and Law moaned in response. Law definitely preferred to dominate you, but he couldn't deny how he equally loved the way you took control of his face while he ate you out. The way you were so desperate for his lips and tongue always sent him reeling.

"Fuck, Law!" You yelped in pleasure as his tongue prodded in and out of you with haste, and he only went faster so he could hear more of your whining of his name. Your legs were trembling on his shoulders now, body shaking from the pleasure he was giving you from his tongue work. He pulled out of you and instantly swiped up to your swollen clit, taking it between his lips. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he played with your sensitive button, circling and sucking on it as if a snack. Your back arched as he plunged his digit deep within you, never ceasing his affection on your clit.

The sloshing sound of your juices should've embarrassed you, but nothing coherent could breach your thoughts as you were only focused on the absolute satisfaction Law was providing you; eating you out and fingering you to his heart's content. Your mewls filled his ears, way better than any party music in his opinion, and he only hastened himself to bring you right to the edge. You've been craving release and he was bound and determined to give it to you.

With swiftness he added another finger into you, tongue still working at your clit, pounding relentlessly into your soaked core. Your walls were beginning to tighten around him and he knew you were close, so he took this opportunity to shove yet another finger inside you, having your body thrashing underneath him.

"Law, oh my- fuck! Yes, yes, yes, keep going, please."

You didn't have to tell him twice. He smirked a little while he continued his work on your core, fingers curling inside you with each pump. Your body was completely flushed, sweat trailing down your neck as your body prepared you for what was to come. Your toes curled and uncurled at a rapid rate, the tightness in your legs trailing up and up as you felt the knot in your abdomen threatening to break. Law took one last swipe of your clit, fingers continuing their rough speed as he looked up at you, "Cum for me, (Name)-ya. Let it all go."

You couldn't hold back as his words seemed to unfurl the knot in your body, a wail of pleasure escaping you. Your juices spilled forth while your body rocked as you rode out your orgasm. Tingles littered your being as you became weightless for a second, escaping off into ecstasy as you came down from your high. Law moaned in delight, lapping up every bit of your cum from your core, leaving his fingers soaked for you to taste. He rose to his feet while you laid there exhausted, limp, but he was nowhere near through with you.

Your eyes were shut from bliss until you felt his slick fingers outline your lips. He smiled at your tired eyes and the way you lazily opened your mouth to suck his fingers clean, "Still delicious."

You giggled lightly in response, opening your eyes to look at your love, completely enamored with how satisfied he makes you feel, "I love you so much, Law."

His smile grew slightly bigger as he nodded, "I know, and I love you, (Name)-ya. But we're not done yet."

With that, you retreated backwards onto the bed while Law crawled over your body, pumping at his dick once again, though he was rock hard after seeing you come undone for him. His lips made way to yours again, this time passionate and slow. The lustful feelings subsiding for a moment as he came to realize just how much he truly missed you. Your touch, your smell, your smile, your laugh, everything about you; going four months without his favorite person was one of the most difficult things he's ever had to experience.

"I don't ever want to leave you again." He whispered in a hushed tone, forehead resting against yours.

You smiled up at him, pulling him closer by the neck, "Then don't."

His lips curled upwards as he plastered you with kisses once more, you were a moaning mess under him as his tip circled around your sensitive area. He was driving you mad yet again, but with his slow kissing, he showed no sign of entering you any time soon. You bit down on his lip and he shivered for a second, confused by your roughness. He pulled away to look at you, curious.

"Fuck me like you mean it, Trafalgar. Show me how much you missed me. I need you inside me."

His mouth peeled into a shit-eating grin at your words, completely satisfied and utterly surprised at your command, "When did you gain such a filthy mouth, (Name)-ya? Don't tell me you were offering this pussy, my pussy, to some brute while I was away?"

"This pussy is only for you, Law, and it needs you now. Please!" You begged and though Law wanted to deny you your satisfaction just a little while longer, he complied.

With a slow push, he eased himself inside you, the both of you moaning and hissing in bliss at finally becoming one after so long. Your walls were so deliciously tight around his cock, his eyes screwed shut tight as he focused on anything but cumming inside you right here and now. His cock filled you up unlike anything else and you took it with ease as your walls were still so slick from his affections earlier. Though it had been four months since you two were last connected like this, your pussy took him astonishingly well, as if you two were made for each other.

"Fuck, did you get tighter while I was away? You feel so fucking good." Law admitted through gritted teeth as he continued pushing deeper and deeper inside. You could only moan in pleasure and grip at the sheets until your knuckles turned white. You were so full, so content, it was as if Law was everywhere around you at one time, your world completely enraptured by his presence. Your back arched, causing your chests to collide, Law couldn't even revel in the feeling of your breasts against his bare chest as he was so focused on filling you up completely.

At last, his tip reached the end, his cock fully sheathed inside you. Your body shook with every twitch of Law's member, and after you fully adjusted to his length, you pulled him down towards you in a heated kiss, a reaffirming signal for him to move. Law remembered your words, your command for him to fuck you like he meant it, so he was bound to give you exactly what you wanted.

As he withdrew from you, your body winced and whined at the loss of contact, but your moans were soon filling his open, eager mouth as he pounded back into you with a force you were unfamiliar with. It was quick and powerful, a bit different from his usually slow, painfully teasing pace. It typically took Law a bit of a warm up before he was roughly bucking into you, but amidst the unbearable sexual frustration and the loving desire he had for you, Law could no longer control himself. That's how he found himself drilling you into the mattress within seconds, your nails digging crescent marks into the skin of his shoulders at his surprisingly rough and desperate thrusting.

"Mmmm...fuck, yes, fuck me just like that, Law!" You pleaded, not even slightly embarrassed by your new found courage of dirty talk. You could care less what spilled from your mouth as your body bounced into the mattress at his relentless pace. It still wasn't very fast, but his thrusts were rocking you each time, sending waves of pleasure throughout your entire body every time his hips snapped into yours with eagerness.

He only groaned pleasurably in response, finding it a bit difficult to respond coherently as your tight cunt gripped his dick so well each time he entered you. His thrusts only became rougher, your screams of pleasure only edging him on to pound into you harsher. He wanted you to feel every bit of his love for you, trying desperately to make up for lost time.

Suddenly, he gripped your calves to throw them over his shoulders, now hitting you at an angle that had you trembling in rapture. Your legs squeezed around him so beautifully as he raked his nails against them, hitting that special spot of yours he knew all too well. Loving kisses and bites were littered against your delicate skin, bringing you closer and closer to an edge only he could ever bring you to.

Your hands flung to his chest, fingers searching desperately for something to hold onto, but you made do with clawing at the tattoo on his torso. His pace quickened while his thrusts remained brutal, surely leaving you bruised in consequence. He couldn't stop himself from digging into your thighs as your walls only grew tighter around him, signalling your imminent release.

"L-law, I'm...close...just right there." You stated between heavy breathing, the knot returning yet again in your abdomen.

His hands found yours among your sweaty, tangled bodies, and he linked his fingers with yours, "Me too." he muttered with a strangled moan, bringing your interlocked hands up to his lips in order to place a loving kiss against the top of your hand.

The collision of hips, the sloshing of your wet pussy, and your sweet wails of his name were bringing him right to that same edge. He tried desperately to suppress the need for release just a little while longer, but the moment your walls clamped around him and you came all over his cock, he knew he was destined to follow soon after. Your legs laid heavy on his shoulders as your body spasmed, sensitive against his ever-thrusting cock. You laid still, coming down from your high as he continued his powerful fucking, chasing after his own high.

Law looked down to see his cum soaked cock easing in and out of you, and after a couple more thrusts he held your hips in place in order to release every bit of himself deep inside of you. Your body jolted at the feeling of his warm seed filling you up, you couldn't help but moan his name sweetly one last time, putting a tired, but content smile on Law's face.

You offered him a lazy smile in return, placing your hand against his cheek in an admiring manner. He eased into your touch, completely enamored with your post-sex face, all disheveled and flustered; absolutely stunning in his eyes.

"Should we go back to the party?" You whispered, definitely noticing the slight twitches of his cock, which was still buried inside you.

Law pretended to look away in thought, but amongst the sultry look in his eyes, you knew exactly what he was thinking, "Our party is far better. I think it’s time for the after party." Before you could ever respond, Law sealed his lips against yours, eager hands roaming along the curves of your body once again.

#one piece #follower event special #follower event 2 #follower event #prompt winner #prompt story #prompt #filthy #filth #extra sin #heavily sinful #sinful #sin #trafalgar law #law #reader insert

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allykatswriting · 5 years

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Going Back (Subnautica)

(Spoilers)

"Permission to land will be granted after you have settled your outstanding balance of: 1 trillion credits." the machine repeated.

Rylie rubbed his forehead, putting his elbows on the panel in front of him. After surviving almost a month on an alien world alone, who thought it would be the Alterran fees that stopped him from coming home?

He was currently orbiting the Alterran planet, stuck in the atmosphere looking down at the brown and blue planet. He was so close to home, to actual people! But his PDA wouldn't even allow him to connect to anyone. This was absolutely ridiculous.

He tried typing in the docking request again. I am Rylie Robinson of the Aurora. I am the last survivor of the crash on planet 4546B. I have information on the rest of the crew and the cause of it. Please respond. The message sent and Rylie leaned back, closing his eyes. He had to hope that it would get to someone. That someone would care and call back for him. Just hope-

"Permission to land will be granted after you have settled your outstanding balance of: 1 trillion credits." The PDA told him again.

He cursed under his breath. Of course, he could survive a SeaDragon, escape a Mesmer, even save an entire planet's ecosystem, but as soon as he was back in Alterra space, he was just another commodity. He was starting to wish he'd just stayed on 4546B...

Rylie leaned back in his chair, sighing as he stared down at the planet from the Neptune rocket. There had been more than a trillion credit's worth of diamonds and lithium down there. He wish he had brought them, he always had so little storage on the planet, but he could have spared a few. He even knew where to get them. The island had been a great source of materials.

Instead he was stuck in this stupid rocket with no way out.

Great.

He sighed and picked up his PDA from the table and went into his downloads. He'd listen to them all before a thousand times. It was quite morbid, perhaps, to listen to his dead coworkers last messages. But he had more choices than them if he wanted to hear another's voice.

I thought it might get claustrophobic, living underwater. Father feels it is. He'd tell me it was childish, but I stare out the window and sometimes I think how lucky I am to see this world up close."

Rylie closed his eyes, listening as the sound of Bart Torgal's voice drifted out of the speakers on his PDA.

"Back on the island I wouldn't have believed the creatures that live down here. The fish─they glow! There's one that's 90% eyeball. Snakes twice the length of a habitat compartment."

He had sounded so hopeful back then, fascinated with the world and all it's creatures. Rylie couldn't blame him. The oceans had been beautiful at times.

"Certainly it's not all friendly. Most of the plant life is toxic─I learned that the hard way─but I've managed to coax some marble melons into growing indoors, and when they don't cover our dietary needs, well... we eat the fish themselves. It's a bit gross, but it's nothing they wouldn't do"

They had survived, but they hadn't made it. No one had. Except him. It was by luck he had made it here, luck and a good scanner.

For a moment, Rylie wondered what would have happened if Bart had survived, if he had somehow lived long enough to meet Rylie after the Aurora exploded. What would it have been like, he wondered, to go through that all with someone there? Would making the P.R.A.W.N suit have been any easier? Would piloting the Cyclops have been?

Would he have been able to hear the Sea Emperor?

As Bart's log ended, Rylie started up another entry from the Degasi crew. He sat and listened to them, wondering what it would have been like with each as he had so many times in the past. If he had been able to save any of the crew from the life pods, or even the wreckage. How big would the base have to be to accommodate all of them? Could they gather up all the needed supplies? He explored these familiar hypotheticals quietly.

"There was nothing anyone could have done to avoid crashing here, but I was right to order the detour. If we get off this planet they'll be talking about the Torgal share price on the other side of the Federation."

Paul Torgal's voice brought Rylie's train of thought to a stop. It was odd that they had ended up on the same planet as the Degasi. It had been just a slingshot maneuver, or so he had been told. Why had it been 4546B specifically? There were a few other planets that could have worked...couldn't it.

Maybe the files he had on the Aurora could help.

He dug through file after file, going through topics on colonies, crew logs, even relationship contract dealings. He hadn't read these fully, not all the way through. Sure he scanned through them when he'd fist got them but there had been other things on his mind. Mainly fixing the Aurora so that the whole area didn't go to pieces.

And then he found it.

Oh.

He felt like he should be angry at Alterra, lying to all their crew members and ending up killing them in the process. He should be a little outraged at all his friend's deaths being for nothing. He would have been, if he had read this months ago on the Aurora.

But now he was going to use this to his advantage.

Rylie reopened his request form.

I have information on Paul Torgal as well as the rest of the crew of the Degasi.

He hit send and put down his PDA to wait.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Rylie Robinson."

A voice, a real human voice he recognized came through his speaker. He grinned down at his screen. He had their attention now.

"Prepare to dock, we're bringing you home."

The rocket began a predetermined course, probably for the next landing pad, as it spun closer to the planet. Excitement welled up in his stomach. After months of just oceans, fish, and cryptic messages, he finally wasn't alone anymore.

Finally.

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ogrepixel · 6 years

Text

GDC18 Full Experience

Hey! For those who don’t know, my name is Steve Duran and since 2014 I created an indie game development studio from México called Ogre Pixel where we create fantasy stories in form of indie video games.

So far we create pixel art styled mobile games and since the middle of last year I work full time in this business.

GDC18 was my first GDC ever.

Prior GDC

Every year since 2015 I have always wanted to go to GDC, but for reasons like my day job, the lack of USA VISA and even money I wasn’t able to do it.

In 2017 my wife and I made the effort to get the USA VISA thinking in going on vacation to the USA and also thinking in attending this kind of events like GDC.

This was the first time I would be attending GDC! So I started reading a lot of tips and videos about the conference, because of that I made a lot of business cards, bought candies, registered for parties, prepared a demo for our game Pixel Stars and a couple of weeks before we thought about a cool game concept and rushed on that becoming this into Jumper Jon demo.

I read about the importance of having a goal for GDC, for me, the goal was to enjoy the experience (as a first timer), learn about how everything works and show 2 game demos to press and people: Pixel Stars and Jumper Jon.

Last 4 weeks before GDC we had a lot of work rushing on game demos, because of that I didn’t get enough sleep. I was afraid the effort wouldn’t be worth it because maybe game demos wouldn’t be ready and/or people wouldn’t like them after all.

The stress prior GDC was huge!

On my way

When the day came, Jumper Jon demo was not ready (nothing happened after defeating the boss), stickers did not arrive in time but at least Pixel Stars demo was working pretty well (tested it on iPad that day in the morning).

This was the first time I would be going outside the country on my own, that wasn’t easy either, however, I kept myself thinking about it as an adventure.

I traveled from my city Aguascalientes to Guadalajara on a 3 hours trip on bus, after that I took a flight to San Jose California on a 4 hours trip on air, after that I waited like 1 hour for a bus to take me to San Francisco Airport, took the 1 hour trip to SFO Airport on that bus and finally took a 30 minutes trip on BART to a station near Moscone Center (Powell station).

A good thing about going 4 hours on air was that I was able to finish Jumper Jon demo =D! I added the intro and outro images to demo and with that, it was some kind of finished.

Just arriving near the Moscone Center I bought a 5-bucks hotdog and went to the Hotel when I stayed with a very good friend.

GDC Week

Monday in the morning I went to Moscone West to pick my badge. The feeling when going inside the building and watching all that people with GDC badges was really great.

As other game devs, always talking about this with other people feels pretty good, now, being in the same place with thousands of people who are also fascinated by the game development is really a very comforting experience.

I won’t describe what I experienced at every moment the whole week, but I will give a quick summary and will highlight the best moments on GDC:

Overall my GDC week was spent between few meetings, parties, events, networking and a couple of expo hours.

Meetings

As one of my goals for this GDC was to show Pixel Stars and Jumper Jon to people and press, I scheduled a couple of meetings to show it to good friends, a couple of streamers and press.

This was very important for us because was the result of a lot of work weeks before GDC… The good thing was that Pixel Stars and Jumper Jon had a great reception from the people who played them.

Even if these games are very different from each other, both of them were liked by people =).

Here are a couple of videos from Touch Arcade where I’m showing our games:

youtube

http://toucharcade.com/2018/03/23/gdc-2018-jumper-jon-and-pixel-stars/

Parties

Parties on GDC are something very cool because that’s the perfect place for networking, meeting cool and interesting people and also meeting good old friends.

I went to a couple of Unity parties, one of them was the keynote where we knew about the new stuff coming for the engine. There we could meet one of the guys who created Unity: Joachim Ante and that was really great.

A cool party I attended which was really great was The Other Party, that one was great because I was able to pick a free table and show Jumper Jon demo for playtesting.

That was very fun because a lot of people went to our table and went through the demo from the beginning to end (demo lasts like 3 minutes).

I received a lot of feedback, good comments and the most rewarding was that people asked us about when it would be available because they wanted to buy it at that same moment =D.

I was also able to show Jumper Jon demo on another party called BYO INIDE (Bring your own indie) there I was able to pick a table too, set up the demo and people went there to check it.

Pretty much was the same result, a lot of people enjoyed it.

Showing Jumper Jon on the parties was one of the best moments from GDC because I felt all the effort was totally worth it, we spent a lot of time programming, making art and designing the level… Knowing that people really liked it was very comforting.

Events

The best events for me on GDC were the Independent Games Festival Awards and the Game Developers Choice Awards.

I will describe the feeling of being there and watching the Awards with just one word: Inspiring.

Watching all that talented people receiving awards, giving their speech and sharing on stage situations that many of us game devs live is something really inspiring.

Networking

Networking most of the time was made during the parties… Even if on the Moscone center and Yerba buena garden there is a lot of people around, resting or working on their computers, networking is not very good there (at least for me).

I sat down there a couple of times but I made it because I wanted to finish something or send a mail or just to charge my cell phone.

There I tried to speak with people and it worked most of the times but, for other people, they sometimes just didn’t want to talk, maybe because they were tired or something (I didn’t talk to people I found was busy).

So for networking, I would suggest parties.

Expo

Something I really missed on this GDC was the expo.

I was at the expo and could give an overall check but unfortunately I couldn’t enjoy it in detail. I was just walking through it when the GDC ended and I had to go out =(

Taking the following pic was really sad because that was the end of GDC.

Conclusions

Some friends told me that if game development is my passion I had to attend GDC… Now I can confirm that because as this is the largest professional game industry event in the world this is the meeting point for game designers, programmers, artists, producers and artists from the global game development community.

And that is absolutely awesome.

Here I made a small list of tips for everyone who is planning to attend GDC in the future:

Define a goal for your GDC attendance and work for that goal prior GDC (make a demo, a good presentation, schedule meetings)

Bring at least 200 business cards

Join the Fellowship of the GDC Parties facebook group (https://www.facebook.com/groups/TheFellowshipOfParties/)

Bring a fully charged power bank all the time

If you want to show a game on parties (for free) register to the right parties and attend earlier

If you like swags and stuff go to the expo on Wednesday and take your time to check it

Take a good sit at the Awards and enjoy the show

Share business cards with everyone and take a pen with you and write down on business cards who is who so you can remember the people you met.

Business cards I received:

Last but not least I want to recommend the GDC attendees to take a time and enjoy San Francisco, this place is amazing too:

Well, that’s all, I tried to summarize my GDC experience as a first timer, I definitely want to attend next year and hope this read is helpful for the people who are planning to go and get the best experience.

Thanks for reading, hope you like it, feel free to stay in touch with us through our social media and discord server

Twitter: @ogrepixel Facebook: facebook.com/ogrepixel Instagram: instagram.com/ogrepixel

Discord: discord.me/ogrepixel

Steve =)

#ogre pixel #gdc #gdc18 #video games #game development #indie game #indieaf

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yourboatholiday · 4 years

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Caribbean Yacht Charter Prices

One of the most common questions when you are thinking about a sailing holiday in the Caribbean (especially if it’s your first time) it’s about prices. How much would it be? How much should I expect to spend? What is included in Caribbean yacht charter prices and what is not?

As we really care about our customers and Your Boat Holiday operates with extreme professionalism and transparency, our Charter Managers prepared this article dedicated on “how much to rent a yacht in the Caribbean” to develop this topic in deep.

vimeo

From mid November to mid March is the high sailing period, as most of the Caribbean Islands in this period reserves ideal climate and good weather conditions for yacht charters, while the mid season is in October and April.

Here’s our top selection of sailing spots to relish this year when you decide to rent a yacht in the Caribbean Sea:

St Vincent and Grenadines

Grenada

Martinica

St Martin

St Barts

Antigua

Cuba

BVIs (with main base in Tortola)

Windward Islands (Dominica, St Lucia)

What to know when chartering a yacht in the Caribbean

The Caribbean offers infinite alternatives as destinations for your charter, whatever you are looking for, you will find it for sure in this paradise on Earth: hidden coves and bays, desert islands and beaches, crystal clear sea, marine turtles, coral reef, relax, fun, chilling and so on.

So now, that you have defined at least the sailing area, there some important points and topics to talk about, starting from the best period to sail in the Caribbean, the islands and areas that you can easily reach and that suit your standards, the type of boat (monohull, catamaran, luxury motor yacht) and the type of charter (fully crewed, skippered or bareboat) and finally how much cost sailing in the Caribbean:

– The high season period for sailing the Caribbean is from November to March and the mid season is in October and April; – When you plan your boat holiday in the Caribbean, don’t forget that the minimum number of days is 5 (five) and that during the Christmas and NYE periods some operators required minim 10 days of rental, that you have to know the total number of guests that will join the party, the duration of the charter, the type of vessel you wish to rent to accomplish all your crew’s needs (multihull, sailboat, luxury motor yacht or gulet in cabin or exclusive charter), the type of charter (in bareboat, with skipper or fully crewed), and the approximate budget you have for your sailing trip; – As mentioned above, yacht charters in the Caribbean have minimum duration of 5 days; – Catamarans and sailboats can usually be rented in bareboat (so you will drive the boat by yourself), skippered (bareboat + skipper) or fully crewed charters (this is usually mandatory for 50+ feet catamarans); – When you rent a boat in the Caribbean you can customise your sailing itinerary and enjoy the most beautiful routes, suiting all your interests;

What type of boat (sail or motor) better accommodates you in the Caribbean

Below the list of the types of yachts you can choose from when you enjoy a sailing holiday in the Caribbean:

Motor yacht

Catamaran

Sailboat

Gulet

Each boat has its own features and comforts, its different benefits and compromises to keep in mind. Catamarans and motor yachts offer for sure more ease in terms of internal and external spaces, entertainment and water toys and because of that, they are usually more expensive than the classic monohull.

The Caribbean offers different types of charters, first of all you can opt between exclusive (private) or cabin (shared) charters. Usually the most common vessel for cabin charter is a gulet, alternativey in the Caribbean you can join it also aboard catamarans.

If you are interested in private yacht charter in the Caribbean, then you can decide between bareboat, skippered or crewed rental.

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What type of charter are you looking for in the Caribbean?

Knowing the type of Caribbean sailing charter you are looking for is definitively the most important (and primary) point to let us assist you properly with your charter arrangements. Our Manager will start working for you selecting the boats that better suit your enquiry, explaining you all the alternatives and replying to all your related questions. Below the list of types of charters you can opt from when you are ready to rent a sailing (monohull or multihull) or motor yacht in the Caribbean:

Crewed charter

Skippered (Bareboat + skipper) charter

Bareboat charter

Cabin charter

Crewed charter means that you are renting a yacht (sailing yacht or motor boat) with crew members aboard, not only the captain. The number of crew members depends also on the dimension of the boat, the skipper can work with the deckhand, or with the hostess (that usually takes care of internal cleaning and in some cases also of cooking), or with cook, etc. Naturally aboard mega and extremely luxurious yachts the crew are composed by many members, that assure to their guests to reserve top level services, taking care of any details of the cruise.

On the other hand, a skippered charter is when you have the captain aboard that drive the boat and clean externally the yacht.

If you have a sailing license (or if in your origin country it’s not required) and you have enough sailing experience, provable by a valid resume, and of course you are passionated about driving boats, then the bareboat is the one for you! It’s usually available aboard sailboats and catamarans, up to 50/52 feet. Because bigger vessels require crew aboard.

If you would like to combine this charter with the opportunity to meet new people, living a new experience, than you can just rent your cabin, sharing the boat. This is what is called cabin charter.

Yacht charter prices Caribbean

And now that we have a better idea of what renting a yacht in the Caribbean means and of the related options.. What is the real cost for renting a yacht in the Caribbean?

The charter price, so the cost of the boat includes the use of boat, while the expenses (ports, food, drinks, fuel, etc) are on top of it.

To better understand Caribbean yacht charter prices and how much cost to rent yacht in the Caribbean, we set below a list of all the estimate and approximate expenses you had to consider, per type of boat, charter, etc in order to allow all our clients understand how much to charter a yacht in the Caribbean.

Read the article until the end to get all the infos!!!

Below the costs to take into consideration when you charter a yacht in Greece (in the following sections all entries will be investigated in depth):

Charter rate

Expenses / Extras (fuel, food, drinks, ports, etc)

VAT (to be added on crewed charters)

APA (to be added on crewed charters)

Cautional deposit (to be added on bareboat charters)

Crew tips (at the discretion of the client)

How much to charter a bareboat and crewed boat in the Caribbean

The cost of a boat charter in the Caribbean depends on two main factors: the boat you are renting and the type of charter you will enjoy (crewed, skippered or bareboat).

We can now carry out three macro-groups to clearly define the rates per type of charter:

Fully crewed Caribbean yacht charter prices

Bareboat Caribbean yacht charter prices

Prices to rent yacht with skipper in the Caribbean

Let’s now talk about costs: how much to charter a fully crewed yacht in the Caribbean?

If you are looking for the top level services aboard, then you definitively have to rent a fully crewed yacht in the Caribbean: the crew will take care of everything, the internal and external cleaning, the driving of the boat, the maintenance, the cooking, etc. If you are satisfied at the end of this incredible experience then you can decide to leave a tip to the crew. We never recommend a percentage but we also prefer that the clients decide by themselves how much to reserve for this service. In some cases, it’s suggested to leave the 10% of the charter rate.

The charter price of a fully crewed yacht ordinarily already include the use of the boat for the booked period and the services of the crew (in some cases also docking in port at the main base and in this case it’s specified in the contract or in the booking confirmation). The extras not included are actually the expenses, that are always covered/anticipated by the A.P.A. (fuel, ports, food, drinks, etc) and the VAT, to consider on top of the charter rate.

Bareboat charter Caribbean prices: how much does it cost?

If you already have a valid sailing license or if in your country you don’t need a license but you are an experienced sailor, then it means that you can rent a boat without skipper. Usually boats over 50/52 feet are available at least with skipper or with crew. If you would like to rent a big boat, over 15 meters, keep in mind that in most of the cases there could already be captain or crew aboard.

When you rent a boat without skipper, the charter price already includes: VAT, the rental of the boat for the period required and (usually) the first and last night at base port (so if you will enjoy a one way charter or to start/end from a different port, the port’s fees won’t be included).

All the expenses will be applied, as fuel, marinas, food, drinks, etc.

What’s the difference between crewed and bareboat+skipper? How much does it cost?

A boat available for bareboat sailing can be chartered also with skipper, that has an extra cost. Saying skippered or bareboat+skipper is the same thing. The difference between fully crewed and skippered (bareboat+skipper) charter is that a crewed yacht has a stable crew aboard, that work there regularly and as a team, while if you require a skipper then he will be hired by you for your charter. Naturally the operators/yacht owners always assure to their customers the best skippers, to reserve them the best services and also to keep their boat in good hands.

The cost of a skipper can start from 180,00 / 200,00 Euro (+food) per day in the Caribbean, depending on the boat and the yacht owner.

How much to charter a yacht in the Caribbean

What really makes difference when you rent a boat in the Caribbean are the following topics: dimension, year of built, number of cabins, model of the boat, crewed or bareboat charter and equipments/comforts/features of the yacht) and period of the year (high/mid or low charter season).

And so: how much to rent a yacht in the Caribbean Chartering a motor yacht in the Caribbean Sea can have approximately the following charter rates:

Prices for motor yacht in Caribbean from 55 to 60 feet: 15.000,00 USD / 30.000,00 USD per week + extras

Prices for motor yacht in Caribbean from 62 to 70 feet: 20.000,00 USD / 40.000,00 USD per week + extras

Prices for motor yacht in Caribbean from 70 to 90 feet: 30.000,00 USD / 70.000,00 USD per week + extras

Prices for motor yacht in Caribbean from 90 feet and over: 70.000,00 USD and up per week + extras

Let’s say that all the motor boats are available only with skipper/crew aboard (very few exceptions for smaller vessels, let’s say up to 55 feet) and it’s always required the A.P.A. to anticipate the expenses (A.P.A. stands for Advanced Provisioning Allowance).

Related: What in the A.P.A. in yacht charter?

Catamaran charter Caribbean prices

Depending on the dimension of the catamaran, the multihull (as monohull) can be rented in bareboat, with skipper or with crew aboard. Usually catamarans have minim 4 cabins (in some cases they can have also the cabins for the skipper or the crew members and there are few “owner versions” with 3 cabins in total). As when you rent a motor yacht, the price of catamaran charter in the Caribbean depend on the same factors, like when you enjoy the trip, the model and shipyard of the boat, the year of built, all the comforts and equipments aboard (generator, A/C, water toys, etc) and so on. The newer and more equipped the catamaran is and the greater the cost to rent it.

Would you like to have an idea of the costs for catamaran charter in the Caribbean? You are in the right place, just have a look below:

Rates for charter catamaran in Caribbean from 38 to 42 feet: 3.000,00 €/ 6.000,00 € per week + extras

Rates for charter catamaran in Caribbean from 42 to 44 feet: 4.500,00 € / 8.000,00 € per week + extras

Rates for charter catamaran in Caribbean from 45 to 50 feet: 6.000,00 € / 18.000,00 € per week + extras

Rates for charter catamaran in Caribbean from 50 to 60 feet: 8.000,00 € / 30.000,00 € per week + extras

Rates for charter catamaran in Caribbean from 60 feet and up: 25.000,00 € and up per week + extras

As you can easily see above, catamarans from 45 feet usually have higher prices (and don’t forget that multihull from 45 feet always have the fly-bridge).

The extras (mandatory and optional ones) are always on top of the charter rate. Don’t miss all the helpful informations about all the costs and price for charter catamaran in the Caribbean.

Obligatory extras (usually) on top of Caribbean catamaran charter price:

Final Cleaning (from 100,00 Euro to 250,00 Euro per booking);

Bottle of gas (from 20,00 Euro);

Bed linen and towels for guests (from 10,00 to 20,00 Euro per pax per week);

Optional extras you can opt from during your catamaran charter in the Caribbean:

Outboard engine (from 100,00 to 250,00 Euro);

Beach towels (from 10,00 to 20,00 Euro each);

Skipper (from 180,00 to 280,00 Euro per day+ food);

Hostess (from 180,00 to 250,00 Euro per day + food);

Cook (from 180,00 to 300,00 Euro per day + food);

Wi-fi;

SUP (from 130,00 to 200,00 Euro per week);

Transfers from/to airport;

Refundable deposit;

Rent sailing boat Caribbean prices

Monohulls are for sure the best choice for sea lovers. Starting from 30 feet (10 meters) up to 100 and over, you can choose between bareboat, skippered and luxury fully crewed rentals. As for other countries, also in the Caribbean Islands, sailing charters aboard monohulls are available in bareboat up to 55 feet. Over this dimension captain or crew are mandatory aboard.

Read carefully the below indicative charters rates for sailing aboard monohull in Caribbean:

Sailboat in the Caribbean from 38 to 42 feet: 1.500,00 €/ 3.000,00 € per week + extras

Sailboat in the Caribbean from 42 to 44 feet: 3.000,00 € / 4.500,00 € per week + extras

Sailboat in the Caribbean from 45 to 50 feet: 4.500,00 € / 8.000,00 € per week + extras

Sailboat in the Caribbean from 50 to 60 feet: 6.000,00 € / 20.000,00 € per week + extras

Sailboat in the Caribbean from 60 feet and up: 12.000,00 € and up per week + extras

Obligatory extras usually on top of Caribbean sailboat charter price :

Final Cleaning (from 1000,00 Euro to 200,00 Euro);

Bottle of gas (from 20,00 Euro);

Bed linen and towels per pax (from 10,00 to 20,00 Euro per week);

Not mandatory extras that usually can be added during your sailing charters in the Caribbean Sea aboard monohull:

Outboard engine (from 100,00 to 200,00 Euro);

Beach towels (from 5,00 to 10,00 Euro each);

Skipper (from 150,00 to 220,00 Euro per day+ food);

Hostess (from 100,00 to 180,00 Euro per day + food);

Cook (from 100,00 to 180,00 Euro per day + food);

Wi-fi;

SUP (from 100,00 to 150,00 Euro per week);

Transfers from/to airport;

Refundable deposit;

Payment, taxes and charter terms when renting a yacht in the Caribbean

Usually the payment terms for charter in the Caribbean are as follows:

50% of the Charter Rate upon signing the contract and balance within 30 days before the departure OR 30% of the Charter Rate upon confirmation and 70% within 45 days before the embarkation;

Extras and deposit upon embarkation;

In case of Caribbean fully crewed charters the A.P.A. is always due together with the balance (30 or 45 days before the departure, respecting the contract).

Special offers and discounts for charter a yacht in the Caribbean

When you charter a yacht in the Caribbean with YourBoat Holiday you will surely enjoy our exclusive competitive deals:

Early bookings discounts for charter in the Caribbean

Last minute discounts for Caribbean boat charter

Prolonged period discounts for sailing the Caribbean

Yourboatholiday special discounts for Caribbean yachting

Let’s start with the early booking discounts for boat charters in Greece: how to get it?

Importante note: Usually, discounts are not combinable.

Your Boat Holiday is the charter company leader in worldwide private yacht rentals, with 5 star reviews and top level services, 24/7 assistance, extremely professional charter brokers, that always reserves the most competitive deals to her new and repetitive customers.

View Your Boat Holiday Charter Reviews

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Caribbean Yacht Charter Prices

October 31, 2019

Sunset aboard the stunning SY Above available for charter in Sardinia and the rest of West Mediterranean. Check the link in bio #sardinialuxurycatamaran #yachtchartersardinia #sardiniayacht #sardiniayachtcharter

October 31, 2019

The stunning MY Grey Matters has main base in Nassau and is available for private sailing in the Bahamas: 5 star service, top level crew and reviews, all the water toys you can imagine and striking islands to discover. Visit the link in bio for your next #bahamasyachtcharter #yachtcharterbahamas #bahamasyachtrental #privateyachtbahamas #bahamasyachtrentals #sailingbahamas #bahamassailing #bahamassailingcharter #motoryachtbahamas #bahamasyacht

October 30, 2019

Private yacht charter in Grenada

October 28, 2019

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uni-tierra-califas · 7 years

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[Unitierracalifas] UT Califas Fierce Care Ateneo, 7-22-17, 2.00-5.00 p.m.

Compañerxs, The Universidad de la Tierra Califas' Fierce Care Ateneo will gather on Saturday, July 22, from 2.00 - 5.00 p.m. at Miss Ollie's / Swans Market (901 Washington Street, Oakland, a few blocks from the 12th Street BART station) to continue our regular, open reflection and action space to explore questions and struggles related to the emerging politics of fierce care as well as some of the questions below. Recently academics in service of the military industrial complex put forward a theory of military engagement that warns dominant military powers of the day, i.e. the U.S. and by extension Israel, to recognize that today's most profound military challenge emanates from "urbanization," that is the production of fragile and feral cities ("characterized by violence and disorder"). Not surprisingly, the cities that militaries must protect are the smart cities (with "technology fully integrated"), i.e. those cities like San Francisco, London, Barcelona, and Tel Aviv, that are organized around technologies and related services designed for the digerati and the lifestyle they enjoy. (see, Williams and Selle, "Military Contingencies in Megacities and Sub-Megacities.") It's hardly a new thesis much less a new concern or practice. Military might has been aware of the threats that enemies bunkered in cities pose and the difficulties inherent in urban warfare. For some time now Raul Zibechi has reminded us of how present day "superpowers" worry about the expanding urban periphery, the zones of non-being both on the edges of major metropolitan centers and in the periphery more generally. (see, Zibechi, "Subterranean echos: Resistance and politics 'desde el Sótano'") Locally, the increasingly visible militarization of urban police departments reflects a growing investment in low intensity war as a strategy to control urban populations. What we witness is more than simply an increase in the introduction of sophisticated new armaments filtered back into police departments from the military. As families with deep roots in Oakland, for example, are displaced to outlying zones such as Vallejo and Stockton, paramilitary-like formations and strategies ratchet up violence that targets specific individuals, invades homes, and disrupts family relations. More and more state violence strikes in broad daylight as young people are gunned down walking to the store or chased off roads by multi-agency task forces, as in the cases of Colby Friday (8-12-2016) and James Rivera Jr. (7-22-2010). What is worthy of note in this new global formulation of "contemporary Stalingrads" is the tacit recognition of the amount of inequality and the intensity of its production in the current capitalist conjuncture. In other words, elites and the military ranks in their service recognize how capitalism is producing an increasingly "dangerous" population behind growing numbers of "sheet-metal forests." (see, Williams and Selle, "Military Contingencies in Megacities and Sub-Megacities.") Indeed, this becomes a moment in the articulation of a new racial spatial regime. In this context, it is worth noting the recent arms deals of the Trump administration with Saudi Arabia, Qatar, and Taiwan. Worth billions, these weapons are largely manufactured in the U.S. and are backed by what Robert Kurz reminds us is military bullion, from the gold dollar to the arms dollar. According to Kurz, "the dollar maintained its function as world currency through the mutation from the gold dollar to the arms dollar. And the strategic nature of global wars in the 1990s and turn of the century in the Middle East (in the Balkans and in Afghanistan) was directed at preserving the myth of the safe haven via the demonstration of the ability to intervene militarily on a global scale, thereby also securing the dollar as world currency." (see, R. Kurz, "World Power and World Money: The Economic Function of the U.S. Military Machine within Global Capitalism and the Background of the New Financial Crisis") Much more needs to be said about the military strategy currently being developed in response to the production of mega-cities and sub mega-cities, i.e. urbanization. Read genealogically, the present focus on urbanization presents as simply another justification for a greater commitment to invest in counter insurgency strategies and low intensity conflict against civilian populations in regions of the world that still have strategic interests for the U.S. More to the point, these strategies and investments in social control economies are increasingly directed at historically under-represented populations in the U.S. Against this onslaught, it is the practices of care, the nurturing that makes survival possible, that poses the greatest threat by communities sheltering in "sheet-metal forests" or even those sub-terranean networks of care that are almost entirely invisible in the "concrete canyons" of smart cities. If the rebel army has always relied on care and strong bonds with the community to survive, perhaps it is these networks that define the resistance in the present moment, more than ideology and identification, flags and formations. Strategies of capitalism designed to dismantle systems, networks, and practices of care work in tandem with militarization organized as counterinsurgency against a local population. Precarias a la Deriva alert us that women in Madrid's urban periphery have been creatively responding to the system's efforts to dismantle care. They warn that precarity results from four trajectories: the dismantling of of the Welfare State towards a shift to strategies of "containment of subjects of risk;" the dismantling of community spaces and expansion of commercial spaces, paralleled by the "hegemony of the car;" the dismantling of systems and skills to grow and share food, produce clothing and other necessities, a process that works hand in hand with the rise of fast food and prepared food; and the invasion aimed at time, resources, recognition, and desire for caring for children, elderly, and infirmed. (see, Precarias a la Deriva, "A Very Careful Strike-Four Hypotheses") Thus, precarity, as a current strategy of capitalism is often designated, results when areas of care in our everyday lives are privatized and no longer in our collective control. But despite this reality, people, especially women, refuse to abandon the obligations of care. Not only are we able to recognize and remain committed to care; we find at times it can be fierce. What distinguishes care —that is the everyday efforts to nurture and be nurtured by the people around us— with other practices we are beginning to come to understand as fierce care? We refuse to abandon what we generally think of care. We expect people to be thoughtful, to worry about each other, to find ways to support, nurture, and heal those around us. But, more than that there is a growing awareness of the necessity to directly confront forces and systems of violence that intentionally target specific folks, disrupt the community, dismantle the social infrastructure, and unweave the social fabric. In Stockton, mothers whose grown children have been killed by the state weave a complex fabric of refusal and care. Immediately following the killing of Colby Friday last August by Stockton Police officer David Wells, Dionne Smith, the mother of James Rivera Jr. who had been killed by Stockton Police six years earlier, went to the spot where Colby had been killed, and with others refused to leave —watching over the spot for two weeks and protecting the community memorial until Colby’s body was in the ground. Colby’s mother, Denise Friday, who lives two hours away in Hayward, also returns to the spot regularly, to sit and engage neighbors, refusing erasure and the fear that comes when police attempt to impose narratives and silence. These acts of vigil rest beneath the community gatherings and speak outs where mothers gather to seek and define justice; they are the quiet beneath the protests and the arrests. When school let out across California in early June and the distribution of school lunches was discontinued for summer, these same mothers began gathering once a week making dozens and dozens of brown bag lunches and handing them out to local children to help bridge the hunger of children in summer when the schools shut down. When there was extra lunches, they distributed them to the houseless community gathered under the highway overpass, or in one instance to people displaced from their apartments by fire earlier that day. As August and the one year anniversary of the killing of Colby Friday approaches, these mothers are raising funds for a back-to-school backpack drive (Colby Friday - Backpack Drive). Colby’s school age daughters dreamed the project together: the August prior, their father had been killed just before they all had a chance to get their back-to-school supplies together. In response a year later, their act of organizing supplies both exposes and remembers the stolen life of Colby, and reaches out to other children and families to share supplies. These interconnected acts mark a commitment to confront forces of violence to protect family and community and at the same time create space for everyday care. These are the moments where the care is fierce.

We retell this story and we are reminded of another story from Oaxaca —in Oaxaca, comrades tell us, when we hear bullets being fired, we don’t run away, we run to the sound of the bullets to find each other and together discover a way to stop them. As our comrades in Uni Tierra Oaxaca recently reflected: we must come together and listen, recognizing that we must learn from each other as an act of sharing and care —rather than one seeking to crush the other. This too is a fierce care.

South and North Bay Crew

NB: If you are not already signed-up and would like to stay connected with the emerging Universidad de la Tierra Califas community please feel free to subscribe to the Universidad de la Tierra Califas listserve at the following url <https://lists.resist.ca/cgibi n/mailman/listinfo/unitierraca lifas>. Also, if you would like to review previous ateneo announcements and summaries please check out UT Califas web page. Additional information on the ateneo in general can be found at: <http://ccra.mitotedigital.org /ateneo>. Find us on tumblr at <https://uni-tierra-califas.tu mblr.com>. Also follow us on twitter: @UTCalifas. Please note we will be shifting our schedule so that the Democracy Ateneo (San Jose) will convene on the fourth Saturday of every even month. The opposite, or odd month, will be reserved for the Fierce Care Ateneo (Oakland). In this way, we are making every effort to maintain an open, consistent space of insurgent learning and convivial research that covers both sides of the Bay.

#UT Califas #Unitierra Califas #ateneo #fierce care #militarization #oaxaca #stockton

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dolefulruinsbouquet-blog · 7 years

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Sherlock ficlet (Pt. 1)

This was rushed and it's crappy but I had fun writing it and I hope it breaks your heart as much as it broke mine Sherlock had just found an amazing case, they hadn't had one this good in months, let alone this interesting. Though Sherlock already had an idea of the murder weapon, because yes it was a murder, he had no idea who could have done it and how. "A whole family of six, dead in the living, by heart attacks?" John inquired dumbfounded, he knows plenty about heart attacks and what causes them but nothing could come to mind on how a whole family could have one on the same day. "Yes, John, quite exquisite, isn't it?" Sherlock chimed with giddy. They rushed to the crime scene, Sherlock sporting a smile the whole time. "Sherlock, you're being a bit insensitive, we've talked about this." John said, a hint of irritation fluttering through his words like a hint of gunpowder, ready to ignite the shot. They inspected the crime scene like usual, Sherlock couldn't help but become more enthralled with each deduction and clue he found. "John, anything you can deduce?" Sherlock glanced fondly over to John, who was staring in horror and awe at the scene. There was no blood or gruesome scene, which made that much worse, it was almost ominous. "Uhm. No... Yes, they were all sat in front of the fire, obviously. It's been out for a few hours now... They all seem to be in good health-" John was interrupted by Sherlock's bad timed chuckle. "Good health, save that they've all been murdered." Sherlock remarked carelessly, Greg, who hasn't said a word today- from what Sherlock could tell- starred at Sherlock, he tried his hardest not to judge Sherlock, though that proved to be difficult today. "Sherlock! What's gotten into you today?" John asked, not appalled but as close to appalled as he could with Sherlock. "What? I've said worse, I'm stating the facts anyway. They were obviously murdered, because they're all too fit to have heart attacks, and heart attacks within the same hour? Not a coincidence. What's baffling me, only temporarily of course, is how someone murdered six people without any of them struggling, because they obviously didn't struggle. Something would be out of place, about them and their surroundings, but it's not. But how?" Sherlock wandered off, rambling about the crime scene the whole way. John rolled his eyes then began to inspect the bodies himself. Sherlock was right, nothing was out of place or wrong. "Sherlock?" John called out for him, having formed two questions that he was sure Sherlock would have a condescending, self esteem shattering answer to. Sherlock entered the room with a intrigued expression, though he already had the 'all knowing and powerful' smirk that John hated to love. "Yes?" Sherlock sounded overly amused, John had already been done with Sherlock's behavior for today, his regret was already building up from now. "How were they murdered? There's nothing here to prove they've been murdered." With that, Sherlock chuckled. "I'm glad you asked, my dear. Obviously, they're too untouched." Sherlock paused for dramatic tension, he walked around the room he looked at each body. "These people died at night, yet none of them have messy hair or ruffled clothes, and the way the house looks, it's obviously been polished recently, like within the last four hours, which does not fit with the time of death for this family." Sherlock glanced up expecting to see an amused John smiling back at him. All that met his eyes was an exasperated John huffing and nodding his head. "So, did the murderer scare his victims to death? I'm sure you already know how they died, because you're Sherlock Holmes, right?" John huffed as he glanced over at the smiley Sherlock. "No and yes. No, that would be stupid, the killer would have to know how to scare the whole family and them not defend each other. Yes, I do know, would I be Sherlock Holmes if I didn't?" Sherlock whirled over to John then rubbed his hands together, preparing to tell John. He had a gigantic smile the whole time. "The killer is obviously obsessive compulsive, they left everything cleaner and more organized then when they arrived. One item that I couldn't help but question was the socks look at them," Sherlock pointed to them then swayed his hips as he began speaking again. "They are all right above the ankle, on all of the bodies. One centimeter above each bodies ankle bone to be exact. Did the whole family measure out where their socks rested on their ankles? I presume not, that would be tedious. Plus there are two adolescent bodies, they wouldn't be capable of being that exact at their age." Before Sherlock continued John stopped him. "For Christ's sake, Sherlock! They are not just bodies! Those are not 'two adolescent bodies'! Those are children, who died, horribly. Could you not be a insensitive freak for once." John fumed, the bullet had been triggered and hit Sherlock right in the chest, a feeling he knows all too well. The giddiness John saw in Sherlock before slowly left him with that smile he already misses, the walls were already building themselves back up, his expression stabbed John in the heart like he knows he just did to Sherlock. He was flushed with regret and self loathing. Sherlock straightened his fallen postured, began to rid any sign of pain or tears and cleared his throat. "You... You must forgive me, Watson, Lestrade, I need to excuse myself. I obviously have been acting beyond bad." With that Sherlock exited the crime scene. John was left with this overwhelming guilt that he couldn't seem to overcome, he stood there, not saying a word or even moving. He couldn't still feel the 'once' formed on his lips. Sherlock took the first cab he came across home, he tried reciting key points in previous cases to clear his mind of the events that just occurred. Nothing was distracting him from his tortuous thoughts. When he arrived at 221b baker street he ran up the stairs and straight to his violin. He tried to start composing a new piece he was thinking about for the past few days but his hand reverted back to the same tune he composed for John in his free time a few months ago, John doesn't know about it and Sherlock intends for it to stay that way. When he couldn't get that ridiculous tone out of his head he decided to take a shower, he started the water and undressed. He starred blankly at the reflection of scars in his mirror. I did it all for you, John Watson. He couldn't help but think, why couldn't he stop thinking about John's cruel words? He forgot completely about the shower and decided his mind palace was the best place for him to reside for now, he got dressed and began to concentrate on trying to forget. He kept replaying a certain shot to the chest back in his mind again and again, the bride with the revolver morphed into the flatmate who destroyed his heart. "Why?" Sherlock whispered, his voice was brittle and there were tears stuck in his throat that he couldn't comprehend. It had always been a confusing up hill battle with the emotions John H. Watson caused Sherlock to feel, and he didn't want to remember one happy moment he shared with John, but there were too many to forget, so instead he began to flood his mind with the painful, horrid ones. He began to recall that faithful day at Bart's, when he heard his broken friend rush to his side, begging to get close to him. Then the first night back, after John had left Sherlock a little bloodied, he sat in 221b wondering what he could have done differently to earn a warm embrace from John instead of the painful reaction he knew he deserved. Or the day John beat him to a pulp at Culverton's hospital. He found it, the memory he needed to block out all the good ones. He was back on the morgue's cold ground being beat by John, he didn't feel any anger towards John, because he knew, he still knows, that he deserved it because after everything he did to John Watson one or two beatings still wouldn't make up for what he has done. All good memories became tainted with this broken, hurt John Watson that he knows now. "You should've known better, Sherlock. You were doing so good before Watson came along. No human could comprise you, but look at you now. The same stupid child I remember from when we were young." Mycroft taunted as he watched Sherlock, now being tortured. But his torturer is now John Watson. He finally snapped out of Ms. Hudson yelling John's name between repeatedly calling Sherlock. He found himself on the floor with Ms. Hudson standing in the doorway. "Sherlock?" Ms. Hudson called out again, this time she sounded less concerned this time, since Sherlock has opened his eyes. He mustered up the consciousness to pick himself up and walking towards Ms. Hudson. John on the other hand walked expressionlessly off the crime scene and made his way to Sarah's house. Though he didn't have the guts to fully commit to going anywhere so he just sat on a park bench and reminded himself of all the ridiculous and hurtful things he's done to Sherlock. At around six John made his way home. When he approached baker street there were two extremely familiar cars parked in front of 221b baker street. John sprinted towards his flat, his mind raced with possibilities that were all his fault. "Sherlock! Sherlock?" John called, there were no ambulances so he wasn't dead, but Greg was here, and so was Mycroft. It had to be bad enough for Ms. Hudson to call Mycroft. John slowed as he reached Speedy's entrance then stopped at the door to 221b. He observed the crooked knocker, Mycroft always straightens it. He didn't really know why he left the knocker crooked if he knew Mycroft was going to fix it whenever he had the chance. That didn't matter though, he needed to man up and go apologize to Sherlock, his flatmate, friend- no scratch that- best friend, colleague, his detective. He opened the door that lead to their flat to see Ms. Hudson sitting at the bottom of the stairs, he smiled briefly at her. She jumped up and began hitting him with a newspaper. She repeatedly yelled 'you broke him! You broke Sherlock' as she hit John with the newspaper. If he didn't feel so guilty he'd be laughing "Ow! Will you quit it! I know what I did! I'm going to go fix it!" John informed Ms. Hudson as he backed away, Lestrade came barreling down the stairs after Ms. Hudson, he took the newspaper out of her hand then instructed her to make herself some tea.

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sherlockholmesismytype · 7 years

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About the whole Mrs Hudson thing in TLD

Ok, I love Mrs Hudson, don't get me wrong; she's one sassy BAMF who frequently puts both John and Sherlock in their places. However, I'm sure that many people may take what she said in The Lying Detective about Molly's importance and whether or not she matters as er... let's just say an indication of the writers contradicting themselves about Molly being important to Sherlock, and as a consequence be a little disappointed with Huddersfield for not standing with our gal Molly. To me, this is not the case; this doesn't belittle Molly's importance to our protagonist at all; I've seen a few interpretations that she's just manipulating John into promising to help Sherlock, which is something I absolutely agree with. Even before she snubbed Mycroft and Molly in favour D stroking John's ego (I get the sense from his therapy session and not being able to cope with Rosie that he's feeling pretty inadequate at the moment) it was evident to me that she was acting in a similar way to how she acted in ASIB: completely terrified and not knowing what to do, yet reveals herself to be completely cool under pressure and even slightly flippant about being taken hostage and beaten ("You left it in the pocket of your second best dressing gown, you clot"). From this we can infer that the landlady is prepared to exaggerate slightly, if not tell some porkies, in order to get what she wants. Hence the comments about Molly not mattering having the whiff of a lie about them. Just in case that didn't convince some of you, I would also like to point out that even IF Mrs. Hudson truly believed what she was saying, she doesn't have the same info that the viewer has about Molly and Sherlock's relationship (or Molly's importance to him). For example, she didn't witness many of the scene that feature Sherlock explicitly informing Molly of her importance e.g. the "what do you need?" "You" scene from TRF, or the entire day that they spent together in TEH. Furthermore, those scenes transpire completely between the two; not even John knows, which by extension means that she couldn't have known about these moments, unless Sherlock decided to share (which I doubt), so doesn't have the means to make this assumption, as we - the audience - knows much more than she does. The roles that Molly and Mrs Hudson play in Sherlock's life can be seen as relevant to this. Since Mrs Hudson, from her own (sort of, is technically a figment of Sherlock's Mind Palace experiment) in TAB, her purpose is to "show people up and down the stairs", or just generally mother the two grown ass men. Whereas Molly is more relevant to the actual science part of the case, (I know really eloquently out there) i.e. Doing the victims' autopsies, helping Sherlock with other lab based puzzles (for lack of a better term) that we were in TRF, both in trying to locate the kidnapped children and helping to survive Moriarty as a whole. As a result, we see Mrs Hudson primarily at 221B and Molly at St Barts in order to fulfil these roles in the show and also in Sherlock's life, 2 completely different places. There are only a handful of times where they're together, and even then, they are not enough for Mrs Hudson to gauge exactly how important Molly is to Sherlock, especially when she's not explicitly searching for it ( she's my walking around with a clipboard and tall system people). I'll give you a few examples, just to clarify. The first time we see them together in a room with Sherlock is (unless I am mistaken) in ASIB, aka the scene where Molly's heart is ripped out and vivisectioned by Sherlock before realising exactly how he fits into this particular deduction (and where he apologises and gives the first canon kiss to anyone, apart from Hudders but I'm certain that Benedict said that he couldn't help himself from doing so as he knew Una really well so I'm choosing to overlook that but if you disagree then you disagree). This is pretty early on in the series and before Sherlock's compassion and ties with each of the people around him fully develop, so we can take this interaction with a bit of salt. I'm not analysing the engagement party scene in TEH or the godparents scene in TST, because I feel it's too short and Molly and Sherlock don't really interact in those scenes. So we're left with TSOT, which even then shows not much interaction with Molly and Sherlock in Hudder's presence, they don't speak a word to each other here either, may interactions that do happen between them are in flashbacks. So as a result, from everything that the audience is given, there is nothing there to suggest that Mrs Hudson has all the info she needs to gauge exactly how much Molly matters to Sherlock. This post had turned out to be much longer than I realised! I would just like to point out that I don't think Mrs Hudson was articulating her true thoughts about Molly's importance in the slightest, this is merely a thought experiment, and that without Molly Hooper, it would've been less likely for Sherlock to have survived that fall and convinced everyone that he was dead in order to save Greg, John and Mrs Hudson's life. It's not just Sherlock whom owes their life to Molly.

#sherlock series 4 #The Lying Detective Spoilers #BBC Sherlock #sherlolly

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Quiet and green: Why hydrogen planes could be the future of aviation

by Jonathan O’Callaghan

Today, aviation is responsible for 3.6% of EU greenhouse gas emissions. Modern planes use kerosene as fuel, releasing harmful carbon dioxide into the atmosphere. But what if there was another way?

One possible solution is to use a new type of fuel in planes that doesn’t produce harmful emissions – hydrogen. Long-touted as a sustainable fuel, hydrogen is now gaining serious traction as a possibility for aviation, and already tests are under way to prove its effectiveness.

Planes using hydrogen would emit only water, and initial tests suggest they can be just as fast as traditional planes, carrying more than a hundred passengers per flight over thousands of kilometres. A recent report on the potential of hydrogen-powered aviation said such planes could enter the market as soon as 2035.

There are still significant challenges to make this happen. But if they can be overcome, the future of aviation could be much greener than it is today and be a functioning component of a decarbonised world.

Propellers

Hydrogen planes would be similar aesthetically to traditional planes, albeit with a slightly longer length needed. Smaller planes would likely use propellers, with hydrogen-powered fuel cells providing electric propulsion to turn the propellers. Bigger planes could burn hydrogen to power jet engines.

The hydrogen-powered aviation report, released on June 22, said that hydrogen could feasibly be used by 2035 to power a commercial passenger aircraft on a flight of up to 3,000 kilometres. By 2040 or beyond, a medium-range flight of up to 7,000 kilometres should also be possible, leaving just long-range flights for traditional aviation.

‘By 2035 it should be possible for a short-range flight plane,’ said Dr Bart Biebuyck, executive director of the Fuel Cells and Hydrogen Joint Undertaking, a European public-private partnership to accelerate the market introduction of these technologies, which jointly commissioned the report. ‘That means on European soil, you could connect all the big cities in Europe using hydrogen-powered planes. By 2050, the ambitious scenario is that 40 % of the (European aviation) fleet would be powered by hydrogen.’

Reaching these goals will rely on a number of factors. First and foremost, hydrogen storage technologies need to advance to carry enough liquid hydrogen in planes for these journeys. New ways of transporting hydrogen to airports will need to be devised so that planes can be refuelled on runways. And redesigns of plane interiors will be required to work out how to integrate all the necessary systems and tubing to run commercial planes on hydrogen.

‘With integration, nothing has been done yet on a big plane,’ said Dr Biebuyck. ‘That will be a big challenge. And we still need to prepare a lot of standards, codes, and regulations. For example, what would be the requirement for hydrogen tanks testing for aviation? Still a lot of this research has not been done.’

Progress has been made, however, in developing the underlying technology of hydrogen planes. In 2008, Boeing flew the world’s first hydrogen-powered plane from an airfield near Madrid, Spain, a single-seater vehicle that proved the technology was possible. And in 2016 the first four-seater hydrogen plane, built in Germany by the German aeronautical research agency (DLR), the University of Ulm and a company called H2FLY, lifted off from Stuttgart Airport.

‘We cannot beat climate change without aviation being decarbonised.’

Dr Bart Biebuyck, Executive Director, FCH JU

Four components

Hydrogen planes essentially have four major components – a storage system to safely store liquid hydrogen, fuel cells to convert hydrogen to electricity, a device to control the power of the cells, and then a motor to turn a propeller. In order to make full commercial planes, all of these four areas must be developed sufficiently.

In Spain, a project called HEAVEN is working on integrating these components into an experimental plane. It is developing a powertrain to turn the propellers at high speed using electric power, along with similar liquid hydrogen storage systems to those that have been used in cars.

‘This will be the first liquid hydrogen storage system (for planes), which will be connected with a fuel cell and an electric motor, and then flown in a flight test,’ said Dr Josef Kallo from the DLR and a member of the HEAVEN team. ‘The hydrogen storage (made by French firm Air Liquide) is built and will be finished this year. Next year will be integration time. And then the end of 2022 we will go into flight.’

The powertrain being developed by the project turns the hydrogen into torque to turn the propeller. It is highly efficient and also quiet to run, producing about the same amount of noise as an internal combustion engine in a car – meaning passengers should have a pleasant, quiet flight.

For a 45-seater aircraft, a hydrogen-powered propeller plane will be capable of speeds of up to 600 kilometres per hour, compared to 850 kilometres per hour for a Boeing 747, according to Dr Kallo. While the focus at the moment is on propellers, there is also work underway to develop hydrogen-powered turbines, which are more efficient at higher speeds. ‘(A parallel) step would be to use turbine-type propulsion, using high-speed motors, which are relatively low noise,’ Dr Kallo added.

Green aviation

Most of the world’s hydrogen today is produced by reforming methane from natural gas – a fossil fuel – which produces carbon dioxide. Efforts are underway, however, to develop green hydrogen by using an electric current from a renewable source to convert water into oxygen and hydrogen, and reduce emissions in its production. If that is possible, along with no emissions from the planes themselves, aviation could become a truly green form of travel.

‘By 2050 we need to (become) a carbon-neutral society, and the aviation sector needs to contribute,’ said Dr Biebuyck. ‘Of course, it is not only aviation that will have to adapt. We all need to work together. But we cannot beat climate change without aviation being decarbonised.’

Europe looks set to have a major part to play in this, with it leading the development of many hydrogen-driven technologies, including hydrogen planes. ‘Europe is very far in front,’ said Dr Kallo. ‘There are some projects in the US and China. But they haven’t shown the level of progress we have.’

And it could very well be that in the coming decades, your flight from Paris to Madrid or Munich to Rome could be on a green, clean flying machine, one that produces no emissions and has no impact on climate change – an exciting glimpse at our decarbonised future.

‘This is really a chance to switch from hydrocarbon-based aviation to hydrogen aviation,’ said Dr Kallo.

The Issue

In order for Europe to fully achieve the environmental benefits of hydrogen-powered the production of clean – or green – hydrogen needs to be dramatically scaled up.

Clean hydrogen is produced from water using an electric current from a renewable source, rather than from fossil fuels. Today only a tiny fraction of hydrogen used in Europe is clean.

On 8 July the EU published a hydrogen strategy setting out a vision for how Europe can scale up the production, distribution and storage of clean hydrogen.

The research in this article was funded by the EU. If you liked this article, please consider sharing it on social media.

Published by Horizon

source https://horizon.scienceblog.com/1347/quiet-and-green-why-hydrogen-planes-could-be-the-future-of-aviation/

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