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#hit me with his car
iheartjameshetfield · 7 months
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god the feminist in me leaving my body the second i open this app
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saywhatyouwillbut · 15 days
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i’m sorry about kidnapping your boyfriend so we could give the fbi false testimony. yes, i tried to feed him, he thinks thai is too fattening and wouldn’t have any. i also put out a hit on his rapist
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yenyenyen19 · 7 months
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Scorpion in Red > >
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hp-hcs · 7 months
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(Fine, I’ll do it my damn self: part 5 of my silly lil mlm stories <3)
tmr is just babygirl i don’t make the rules
Watercolors (Chapter One) — tom riddle x male! artistic! hufflepuff! reader
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he could manipulate and possess me thus irreversibly changing my trust in people despite it never being mentioned again and i would thank him
yk, i absolutely love chamber of secrets, but who starts a new diary (obtained under questionable circumstances) with ‘my name is’?
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Tom Marvolo Riddle had been stuck inside of his diary since he was sixteen years old.
The diary itself, inside, was a perfect replica of Hogwarts, the boundaries stretching out well into the Forbidden Forest. Perfect, except for the fact that it was made solely of parchment and ink, and was completely devoid of color or life.
Tom hated the color of parchment.
The diary passed hands many times over the five subsequent decades. First there was the pathetic, sniveling man—the Malfoy sycophant—who all but groveled at Tom’s feet (metaphorically, of course).
Next was the littlest Weasley, the redheaded girl who bored Tom to (again, metaphorical) death. He could only pretend to be interested in how Dean Thomas held the door open for her so many times before he wanted to bash his head into one of the walls.
(He tried, once. The parchment just ripped and left him with a nasty paper-cut on his forehead. Tom missed the red of blood. Now, he bled only black, dripping ink.)
Then, Harry Potter, the boy fated to defeat him, (or whatever) who turned out to be really quite sweet. As a last fuck you to whom he became in the future, Tom aided Harry in coming out to the littlest Weasley’s mother.
That’ll show Lord Voldemort, the dipshit, Tom thought gleefully.
Eventually though, even lovely Harry became more distant, his newly rediscovered godfather being the rightful center of his attention. Tom supposed he might have been jealous of the acquitted Black in another life, but after fifty years of loneliness he understood the yearning for living, breathing friends rather than just paper that writes back, as Little Weasley once called him.
Then, out of nowhere, came the Hufflepuff boy with a tin of watercolors and an eye for the overlooked.
The first thing this wondrous creature made for Tom was a little stone cottage, complete with a warm hearth, a garden of pumpkins and berries, and an idyllic curl of smoke from the chimney. The cottage sat near the edge of the forest, wonderfully secluded and alive.
Tom had watched as gentle sweeps of a brush, suspended in midair, created a home. One that existed in both the physical diary and the hellish paper prison Tom resided in.
Everything existed.
The warm, brown thatched roof, the colorfully patterned bedspread, and even a fireplace.
When the masterpiece was complete, Tom, although he would never admit it, gorged himself on the garden’s sweet huckleberries and sour raspberries. Afterward, he explored his new house, even going so far as to stick his hand into the flames of the fire.
(They weren’t real. They felt like nothing more than a faint warmth against his skin. Disappointing, Tom supposed. But probably a safety hazard.)
Then he curled up in the big bed, under the vibrant bedspread, and closed his eyes.
For the first time in fifty years, Tom slept.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Chapter Two
i need you all to know that the original title for this was “Tom Riddle is a man-whore(crux)??? (NOT CLICKBAIT)” so-
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luxaofhesperides · 5 months
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Ghostlights as college roommates and maybe some identity shenanigans thrown in would be so fun! Maybe dannys doing a little vigilante work on the side as well to up the secret identity mayhem
Danny would like to say his college career is going well. Gotham isn’t where he was expecting to pursue higher education, but the engineering scholarship he got through the Wayne Educational Foundation was just too good to turn down. It even covered the cost of an apartment! Although, the apartment is shared with another student who got a Wayne scholarship. 
Even with that, Danny lucked out and got a great roommate. Duke Thomas is chill, kind, respects Danny’s space and doesn’t throw wild parties or invite random people in at all hours of the day. He even joins Danny twice a week for study sessions!
Really, it would be the perfect college experience except for one thing: the ghosts.
Danny thought they’d stay in Amity Park. They had no reason to stray from the city where the portal was, and his parents are more than enough to keep most ghosts away. It took his friends, Jazz, and even Vlad to convince Danny that he wasn’t abandoning Amity Park and that the city wouldn’t fall while he took a few years to focus on himself. 
He worried right up until he got to GCU and walked the campus for the first time. Then he decided to enjoy the four years he had on the scholarship to get his degree and live his own life like a normal person.
To say he’s pissed about the ghosts is an understatement. 
The one thing he was looking forward to most is not being Phantom. Gotham is home to the Bats and they’re more than capable of handling everything in the city. It means there’s no need for him here and he can focus on school and enjoy going on invisible flights without worrying about being hunted down or having to fight a ghost. 
“Are you fucking kidding me,” he mutters under his breath as he feels the familiar chill race up his throat, A cold mist wafts out of his mouth, curling around his words, and Danny quickly ducks his head and hides it from sight. 
“Did you say something?” Duke asks, looking up from where he leans against the kitchen counter, squinting at a recipe on his phone. 
“Nah,” Danny lies. “Just stressing.” He gestures to the papers he has spread out on the dining table, then stands up. “I’m gonna take a walk. Maybe that’ll get my brain to work correctly tonight.”
“Got your phone on you?”
Danny reflexively drops a hand to his pocket, checking that his phone is where it’s supposed to be. It’s what Duke asks every single time Danny mentions going out, worried about Danny being unprepared for Gotham. It’s nice of him, though Danny does wish he can say that he’s survived a lot worse than a few muggers. 
“Got it.”
“Alright. I’ll try to work on dinner while you’re out.”
Danny nods and offers Duke a small wave before pulling his shoes on at the door. He grabs his keys and heads out, double checking that the door is locked behind him. 
Then he glances around the hallway, checking that the coast is clear, and pulls up the chill of awareness in his chest. Slowly, he breathes out, watching the blue mist waft out and lead towards the stairwell. 
“Wonder who it is this time,” he mutters to himself, going into the cold, concrete stairwell. It always feels a little off in there, as if he’s been removed from the rest of the world when the door closes behind him. His footsteps echo oddly in the space, so Danny chooses to fly instead, keeping his feet off the floor. 
A few flights down is when he sees her: pale and translucent, a faint blue glow around her. She’s a familiar face. Emilia is one of the first of Gotham’s ghosts he’s met, leading to the rather unpleasant realization that ghosts don’t only come from the Infinite Realms. There’s a strange sort of magic in the very foundations of Gotham that makes it the way it is, creating ghosts that are different enough from what he’s used to that it leaves him off balance. 
Gotham keeps her dead. Few get to pass on peacefully, and most have to wait until they grow weak and wither away, a second death, before they can be released from the living realm. The ghosts of Gotham are pale and weak, for the most part, and try to cling to him so grow stronger from his ectoplasm. 
Most want him to help them pass on, or give them a way into the Infinite Realms. Some want him to bring justice to their killers. Others want to kill him and take his ectoplasm for their own so they can continue their reign of terror in Gotham, unable to be stopped even in death. 
Emilia gives him warnings. It’s not always her, but she tends to be the one to draw him out of his apartment, pulling him into a vigilante lifestyle because he can’t bring himself to refuse anyone who asks for his help, and the dead in Gotham have no one else to ask.
“Danny,” she greets. “Nueve is out again. He’s going after the ghosts near Chantilly Street.”
“The sun isn’t even down yet,” Danny grumbles. Nueve, an old gang enforcer who died a few decades ago, cannibalizes other ghosts. It doesn’t destroy the other ghosts, not really, but it makes them feel pain when they shouldn’t be able to feel much at all. Taking their limited reserves of ectoplasm makes him momentarily stronger, and he uses that stolen strength to try to harm the living.
He’s been successful a few times. Danny makes sure to rip him apart as much as possible these days; he won’t be here forever, but he’s hoping that within his four years at GCU, he’ll be able to permanently stop Nueve.
Times like these, he misses having a Fenton Thermos with him. Though he’s not entirely sure it would work on Gotham’s ghosts with how different they are. 
Emilia follows him down the stairwell to the ground floor. Once there, Danny shoves his hand into the floor, taking out the backpack he’s hidden in it. He’s done this change of clothes so often he can do it in just a minute now, hiding his face and pulling on gloves beneath a large hoodie with old ectoplasm stains along the sleeves and hem. A gas mask is pulled on as well, covering the bottom half of his face, a necessary addition to his Ghost Work Outfit™ after he almost got caught in some Fear Gas during Scarecrow’s last attack. 
“Alright,” he says, “Lead the way.”
Emilia takes off through the wall and Danny hurries to follow, going invisible as he hits the streets. 
It’s still early evening, the sun not yet fully set. Plenty of people walk along the sidewalks and cars pass by endlessly, honking at each other as they try to go twenty above the speed limit. Danny does his best to avoid running into everyone, deftly dodging the reaching hands of a few ghosts who spot him as he sprints by. 
They only go a few blocks away from his apartment building, turning into a dead end alley where a group of teens (living, for once) are stuck with their backs to the wall, clinging to each other as they warily watch the man in front of them carelessly twirl a gun around his finger. 
The man makes a strange clicking noise in the back of his throat, and it takes Danny a moment to realize that he’s trying to talk. 
Still invisible, Danny sneaks around to stand in front of the teens, ready to bodily protect them. The man looks alive, and Danny see any ghosts around save for Emilia, standing at the mouth of the alley. There’s something strange about him; his movements seem just a little off, not quite as fluid as they should be. It’s not the movement of someone on drugs. It’s something that screams uncanny valley.
The gun’s handle drops solidly into the man’s palm. He makes another few clicks, then raising the gun to point at the teens.
“Bad idea, pal,” Danny says dropping his invisibility. The teens behind him startle, gasping and trying to press themselves further into the wall. 
The man’s eyes flash weakly and the pieces click into place in Danny’s mind. Nueve must have gotten strong enough to possess someone. That is… alarming, to say the least.
He rips the gun out of the man’s hand and tosses it aside. Then he pushes away the man’s arm when Nueve makes a clumsy attempt to punch him. With his chest left wide open and undefended, Danny takes the chance to shove his hand into the man’s chest, feeling for the familiar chill of a ghost. 
And then he wraps his fingers tight around it and pulls out Nueve, leaving the man to collapse. 
The teens behind him scream and Danny winces. 
Pulling out a faintly glowing human figure from someone’s physical body does not look good. It’s the best way to end a possession, but it does look alarmingly like he’s just ripped someone’s soul out of their body.
Keeping hold of Nueve’s ghost, Danny steps to the side. “You guys should go now. Take care.”
The teens don’t need any more prompting. They take off in a run, tripping over each other in their haste to get away.
Danny spares a glance to the man unconscious on the ground, but there’s nothing he can do with an angry ghost in his hands, so he has no choice but to leave him there as he flies up to a rooftop farther down the street. 
“How many times do we need to do this, Nueve?” he asks tiredly, shaking the ghost.
“These streets should be mine!” Nueve howls, trying to break free of Danny’s grasp. But he’s quickly growing weak, his energy fading, and Danny’s holding back his own ectoplasm as tightly as he can. “They may have killed me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still take what I’m owed!”
“Dude, you’re dead. There’s nothing here for you. Move on.”
“You don’t get to speak on this, outsider. You think a freak like you has an say over us? You can’t stop us. You don’t even know what’s coming.”
Danny squints at him. “What, are you planning a heist or something? With your gang of dead people too weak to lift a piece of paper?”
“We’re not all dead. We’ve got living folk helping us and we’ll be taking you out first when we hit the streets.”
“Good luck with that,” Danny says flatly, “Begone with you.” 
Without giving Nueve a chance to say another word, he rips Nueve’s head off his body. His ghost wavers, then dissipates like smoke, fading away. 
Another side effect of whatever it is Gotham does to her dead: their ghost forms are remarkably fragile and it takes only a bit of strength to tear them to shreds, giving him some peace before they reform again. It won’t stop Nueve from striking out again, gathering enough strength until he’s able to possess some other unfortunate soul, but Danny’s bought himself some time to figure out what the hell was he talking about?
There are living folk involved with whatever he’s planning. It’s probably another gang, maybe someone with magic who is able to see ghosts? Which is not great. Danny doesn’t know much about magic; even when facing ghosts who used magic or magical artifacts, his go to method of dealing with them is to start throwing hands like there’s no tomorrow.
Well.
It’s a problem for later.
For now, Danny needs to get back to his apartment and work on his calculus homework. Hopefully he can finish it before he gets frustrated enough that he gives up and lies face down on the floor until Duke manhandles him onto the couch, where he’s less of a tripping hazard.
He’s just about to get back to street level when his Fenton Luck strikes again and he hears someone land on the roof, just a few feet behind him.
“Hey there, stranger,” the Signal says. “You know, we run into each other so often it feels rude not to introduce ourselves. Why don’t you go first?”
Danny turns to face the daylight vigilante, standing with his arms crossed as if that would make him look any more approachable. He’s been popping up wherever Danny’s out dealing with ghosts, which is very not great for Danny’s plans to have a peaceful, normal college life. 
Biting his tongue, Danny gives the Signal a quick two fingered salute, then goes intangible and drops down through the building. His invisibility sweeps over him and then he’s running through the streets, hoping it’s enough to keep the Signal from following him to his apartment.
He skids to a stop in the stairwell, dropping his intangibility just in time to crash into the wall. Panting, Danny waits for a tense minute to see if he’s been followed. 
When the door to the stairwell remains closed, he lets out a slow breath, then pulls off all the pieces of his Ghost Work Outfit, shoving it back into his bag. He takes a moment to fix his hair, messy from the hood, then shoves the bag back into the floor, safely hidden from curious eyes. 
Then he very casually walks up the stairs to the fifth floor and walks down the hallway to his apartment. His keys clang together when he opens the door, and Duke usually hears it when it does, but just in case, Danny calls out, “I’m back!”
He’s learned to announce himself after a few late night walks almost ended with him tackled to the floor when Duke thought someone was breaking in.
Duke doesn’t respond as he toes off his shoes. The stillness in the apartment feels off, as if the world is holding its breath. Cautiously, Danny walks in, trying to find his roommate.
He’s not in the kitchen. The living room is empty. Duke’s bedroom door is open and he’s not in there either. 
Something cold lodges itself in his chest. 
“Duke?” he tries again, looking over their apartment again for any sign of struggle, or something terrible happening, or even a mess that Duke needed more supplies to clean up. 
There’s nothing. The apartment is as it’s always been, just with an empty space where Duke should be.
Worried, Danny stands in the middle of the hallway, trying to figure out what he should do next. It’s because he’s standing so still, surrounded by silence, that he hears it: a light thud outside the window. 
Danny turns and he can swear he sees something large moving outside the window, disappearing from sight just as Danny takes a step into Duke’s room to check on it. He rushes to the window and pushes it open, looking down at the street, then side to side, and finally up to the last three floors of the building.
Nothing’s there.
Slowly, Danny pulls his head back inside, closing and locking the window. “Must be my imagination,” he says, trying to convince himself it’s not a big deal. 
He leaves Duke’s room and begins pacing down the hall, anxiety building steadily in him. 
His phones in his hand before he can think his actions through, Duke’s contact pulled up on the screen. He should call. He should make sure Duke is okay, but Danny hesitates. Is this something to be freaked out over? Would Duke thing he’s clingy and nervous and a bothersome roommate? He doesn’t want to risk Duke asking for a new roommate next year when the lease renews.
But he’s worried. It’s Gotham and Danny just dealt with a violent, murderous ghost threatening him. Duke can deal with a stressed out, worried Danny if it means he’s alive.
He hits the call button before he can talk himself out of it. It rings on and on and on until Danny starts to panic about having to find Duke’s ghost to avenge his murder. 
The front door is thrown open so suddenly and so loudly, Danny jumps and his phone clatters to the floor. 
“Danny! Hey!” Duke says with a bright smile, trying to catch his breath. He’s still holding onto the doorknob, slightly hunched over as he pants for breath. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m totally fine.”
“Where were you?”
Duke straightens up and closes the door, kicking off his shoes. “Oh, just… out. Shopping. For dinner.”
Danny looks over his empty hands doubtfully. “No luck finding what you needed?”
“Nope!”
“What did you need? Maybe I can go to a different store and get it for you.”
“You don’t need to!” Duke says. “I just needed… tomatoes?”
Danny blinks at him. “We have tomatoes. Did you not know we had tomatoes in the fridge?”
“Oh, do we? Good to know.”
There’s something very weird about this conversation, but Danny doesn’t pry. Duke is weird sometimes, but it’s fine because he kindly ignores some of Danny’s oddities that come from being a halfa and a semi-retired hero. 
“Do you… maybe wanna sit down? Catch your breath? I can make dinner tonight if you want.”
Duke waves a hand in the air. “No, no, it’s fine. I got this. Anyways, how was your walk?”
He definitely shouldn’t talk about the cannibal ghost and his threats to take out Danny with his gang. “It was nice. Very quiet. You know, for Gotham.” He punctuates this with an awkward thumbs up and immediately regrets it, but it’s already done so he commits to it.
“Cool! Great. Just wondering, did you see anything weird?”
“Depends on what you’re asking about?”
“Just some guy wearing black with a hood covering his face. He’s been active in this neighborhood and I saw some people talk about him online. Apparently he just appears out of thin air.”
Danny tries not to wince. That’s him, alright. Gotham’s newest neighborhood menace. “I don’t think so, but there’s a lot of people in Gotham that were all black and walk around with their hood up.”
“True,” Duke concedes. “Well, just be careful when you go out, alright?”
“I always am.” He gives Duke the same two fingered salute he gave the Signal. Duke stares at him for a moment, eyes dark and almost dangerous, then he smiles and walks into the kitchen. 
“Wanna make dinner with me? I think we can figure out this recipe together. Unless you need to do your homework.”
“It can wait!” Danny hurries to join Duke, grateful for an excuse to push off calculus a little longer. He understands what he’s doing in the class, there’s just… so much work. He doesn’t even want to think about the tests. The tests make everyone cry.
“Alright, let’s get to it, then!”
“You’re in charge, chef,” Danny says, laughingly, and bumps against Duke’s side. He expects a light shove in return, something Sam and Tucker always did, but Duke goes tense instead, letting out a sharp breath that Danny is all too familiar with. “Wait, why are you hurt? What happened?!”
He goes to lift up Duke’s shirt to inspect his shirt, see the damage for himself, but Duke smoothly moves out of the way, grabbing Danny’s wrists and stopping him in his tracks. “I’m fine, Danny. I just got hit. Lightly. Minor bruising, really.”
Danny looks at him doubtfully, then wrenches a wrist free to lift up his shirt before he can move again.
Minor bruising is not how Danny would describe the blues and purples that decorate Duke’s entire side. He can see the outline of Duke’s ribs through the bruising. “How is this being lightly bruised? What hit you?”
“A car?”
“A car?!”
Duke winces, then pulls his shirt down. “I’m fine, Danny, really. It was just from a car that didn’t want to stop at a red light. I stopped another person from being hit, but the car got me pretty solidly. You know how bad Gotham drivers are.”
“Sit down!” Danny says, pulling Duke out of the kitchen. “I don’t understand how you’re still standing. I’ll get some ice, and I’ll handle dinner. You just stay there and stop pushing yourself for no reason.”
“Playing nurse for me now?”
“If I have to.”
“Would you wear a nurse costume for me, too?” Duke jokes.
Danny looks him dead in the eye and says, “If I have to. Would that make you follow my instructions? A tight little nurse dress?”
Duke sputters, cheeks darkening, and looks away. Danny grins, victorious, and darts back to the kitchen to grab an ice pack from the fridge. 
“Maybe I’ll wear one for you anyways, once you’re all healed up. Only if you’re good, though.”
“Danny, you’re killing me here.”
“Better me than a car.”
Duke laughs and takes the ice pack, pressing it against his side carefully. “Oh, for sure. Thanks, Danny.”
“Hey, what are roommates for?” Danny shares a warm smile with Duke, then pats his shoulder and heads back to the kitchen to start making a simple pasta dinner. 
Life in Gotham is weird and stressful and full of ghosts and heroes who won’t leave him alone. But it’s not all that bad, really. He’s happy with how he’s doing in college, and he’s beyond lucky to have Duke as a roommate. So long as Duke never finds out about his halfa status, then he’s sure they’ll be able to last all four years rooming together.
He just needs to keep a secret. 
Shouldn’t be too hard, right?
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fauna-and-floraa · 7 months
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Fav skz moments // Do you know what else is big?
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jtl-fics · 1 year
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Fluent Freshman - Part 11
PREVIOUS
FF could admit that he may not be working with a full tank at the moment.
He had not slept very well the night before.
He had watched a lot of horror movies (a genre that he generally does not consume because his mind is already a scary enough place).
He was not able to go see his Grandma and he was going to miss the traditional(tm) Black Friday extravaganza that he and his Grandma did every Black Friday since he was little and encountered the horrible truth about Santa and she’d let him in on when / where most of his Christmas gifts were obtained. (The answer was not the North Pole under the watchful eye of elves. He had cried himself to sleep at the revelation but Gran always had a way of making the worst moments of his life tolerable.)
He may have eaten just…a bit too much pie?
He definitely ate too much turkey.
His stomach is killing him because he had forgotten to take his pepto when he had slammed that five hour energy.
His heart may actually break out of his rib cage with how hard it’s beating in his chest.
He’s been listening to Andrew and Captain Neil go back and forth for the last hour and a half between discussing Aaron’s recent mess ups, to what they’ll do to one another with a locked door between them and the world, to Andrew complaining that Neil’s hand is sweaty, to Neil saying Yes and Andrew’s hand is no longer in Neil’s and-
He clenches his eyes close.
And Andrew has swerved back into the lane for the third time in the last five minutes while saying something unrepeatable about his plans for Captain Neil and the whipped cream.
FF does not handle swerving cars very well.
He hears Andrew say something that sounds like it could lead to a very uncomfortable yeast infection for Captain Neil didn’t properly rinse off afterwards.
The car swerves over the rumble strip.
A fear far stronger than his fear of what Andrew could do to him overtakes him.
“I don’t like swerving cars. So, I’m going to ask that you focus on the road and keep your hands on the steering wheel.” FF says so panicked that he sounds calm and he watches as both Neil and Andrew stiffen at the sound of his voice. “If you can’t, then I’m going to ask that you pull over and let me out.” He offers a second option and a part of him is just amazed that his voice doesn’t crack even once. “I’m fine with either option.” He says.
He says both are fine but…
Honestly he hopes Andrew chooses the first option as he looks at the dark and lonely highway.
He looks back up at the front seat and both Neil and Andrew are looking straight forward. Andrew’s hands are on the steering wheel.
“Thanks.” He says and returns his attention to back over Aaron’s head.
The rest of the ride to Columbia is blessedly quiet. Aaron and Nicky wake up when they get off of the interstate and Nicky has the good grace to try and wipe the drool out of FF’s hair while Aaron seems unbothered by the wet spot he left of FF’s shoulder.
They get out of the car and they each grab their own bag in exhausted silence. Nicky is barely managing to put one foot in front of the other and before FF can do or say anything Nicky is in his room and has locked his door.
The room that FF had been planning on sleeping on the floor of because Nicky had told him he could so that FF would not drink 20 5-hour energies over the course of the weekend.
But Nicky had looked really tired.
So he is given a general tour by a very quiet Captain Neil and FF forces himself not to think about the cooler that Andrew had brought to, what he assumes is, Andrew’s bedroom before it was brought to the kitchen. He gets shown where the blankets and pillows that Kevin uses are and FF nods in quiet acceptance even knowing that he is going to spend the night going over Katakana flashcards and maybe up his literacy on Kanji to a second grader’s level.
Captain Neil wishes him a good night while Andrew gives him a nod and it is the last time he sees Captain Neil that night.
It is not the last time he sees Andrew.
***
Andrew comes out of his room to go get two glasses of water nearly 2 and a half hours later. The house is silent and dark. He is pretty sure him and Neil are the only two up.
He is wrong.
He comes out into the living room on his way to the kitchen and finds FF going through flashcards at a rapid pace. He walks a little closer to see what it is but the flashcards aren’t even right side up half of the time.
He thinks about the car ride.
‘I don’t like swerving cars.’
FF had said it so matter of factly. He was uncomfortable with the swerving.
Andrew had told FF recently about the words he didn’t like.
It felt like FF was offering at least something of himself back to Andrew for the first time.
Andrew thinks about how once his hands had gone back to the steering wheel FF had leaned back into his seat and stared out the window.
Andrew has at various points tried to look up what FF’s circumstances were but searching news sites for someone named ‘Smith’ with no first name to work off of was an exercise in futility.
Neil has lamented many times to Andrew about his bizarre jealousy over how unknowable Smith is. “He’s learning new languages, keeping a low profile, and playing Exy. It’s everything that I wanted in my freshman year and couldn’t manage because Riko pissed me off so much! It’s just kind of hard to see someone living my dream.” He says.
Andrew had punched him in the arm for that one.
“My old dream!” Neil had said and Andrew almost punched him again for the smile he flashed but had ended up kissing his stupid pretty face instead.
Where was he?
Right.
FF didn’t like swerving cars.
It didn’t necessarily have to be the trauma that lead to that aversion. Andrew certainly hadn’t had anything scare him on a plane but he still hated flying.
Still.
“The flash card is upside down.” He says and watches as FF pauses in his shuffling before righting that card and flipping to the next one which was turned to the side as far as Andrew could tell.
FF should be asleep.
FF is not asleep.
It might be Andrew’s fault that his friend can’t sleep.
“It won’t happen again.” He says and FF turns and stares at him blankly for a few seconds before he nods his acceptance.
It’s nice having a friend who understands what he means without needing to explain every little thing.
***
FF thinks he might have double-dosed on the 5-hour energy.
He also thinks he might currently be able to see through time.
His flashcards are making so much sense right now.
Then Andrew had come up and it truly was a miracle that he did not shit himself considering the sheer amount of apple pie still making its way through his system. That’s a lot of fiber for one body and he’s sure the 2-3 Five Hour energies he has taken are not helping his plight in that regard.
“It won’t happen again.” Is what Andrew says and in an instant FF feels his stomach drop to his feet. He nods blankly and watches as Andrew nods back before the man went to the kitchen and left with two tall glasses of water.
‘It won’t happen again’
FF has asked Andrew for TWO favors today.
TWO WHOLE FAVORS.
WHAT WAS HE THINKING?
The answer was that he WASN’T.
Even if FF had paid back one of those favors with the sheer power of his granny’s pie there was the case of the secondary favor he’d asked for in the car.
‘It won’t happen again’
There won’t be anymore favors for FF. He’d used up any mercy his grandma’s pie had bought him.
He considers the time pulls out his phone and goes through some saved text files on his phone.
It’s time for guns even bigger than his grandma’s apple pie.
He takes another five hour energy and knows that he won’t be sleeping a wink. He looks up groceries stores that are open this early on Black Friday, he grabs his wallet and with immense fear in his heart grabs the keys Aaron had dropped into a bowl by the front entrance.
He needs the ingredients for his great-grandma’s brownies.
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Do your civic duty and: CAST YOUR VOTE TODAY ABOUT MEMES
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cloud-ya · 5 months
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rockabye, baby, don't you cry
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skitskatdacat63 · 7 months
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It's just still brainrotting me so badly, LIKE WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!?!?!?!?!
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dr3comebackera · 4 months
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Daniel Ricciardo on his Zandvoort crash, surgery on his broken hand, recovery process, and return in Austin
Tom Clarkson: "Now you mentioned the elephant in the room, Zandvoort. FP2, Turn 3, what happened?"
Daniel Ricciardo: "I *awkward laugh*, I mean I obviously can remember it very clearly, since I didn't hit my head. Erm, but, so you come through, turn, I guess it's Turn 2, and it's over kind of a crest, but then you stay quite tight, because, then the line for 3, you ride the top of the banking. So you know, you're not taking a conventional racing line, so you're not like looking at the apex, you're looking at the top of the corner, pretty much. Like, as a driver, we're always looking ahead and normally like at the apex, but the way you exit 2, you then kind of look straight ahead and pick your braking point."
DR: "So at that point, I'd exited 2, I hadn't seen any yellows, nothing like that. And then by the time I've looked and braked, I then looked where I need to turn, and I see Oscar. This all happened so quickly, but I remember, I can, obviously I'm picturing it in my head now. So I remember, okay, the line we take is high and by this point I'd braked, so I'd already committed, so I knew the speed I was going. My only choice was to take the high line, but I could see his car was at the top of the track. So there wasn't enough room for me to pass through the high line. I'm going too fast to take a low line, so it was either, probably look like a real idiot and crash into him, or try and just slow the car as much as I can, and likely just crash into the barriers, which is what happened."
DR: "But yeah, because it was all, I guess I'm still trying to figure out what I'm going to do, by the time then I'd committed to just going straight, I hadn't then realized, 'okay, take your hands off the wheel.' And a lot of us still don't do it, because crashing is not natural. And it happens so quickly, because you don't plan to crash, so a lot of the time you don't kind of have, yeah, the time to be like, 'okay, I'm crashing, what do I need to do? Brace myself, okay, take my hands off the wheel.' Sometimes you just don't have the luxury of time."
DR: "So, that was it, I hit the wall. I've only watched one replay, but I just don't, I don't want to. Basically, when I've gone in, I'm pretty sure like the right front, it's just the angle, right, the right front would've grabbed the Tecpro [barrier] first, and then that's, like, pulled it in, so it's, it's like I've turned really hard right, the way obviously it's grabbed the wheel. So because the wheels then turned so quickly, I've basically lost grip, so it spun out of my hands, and the bottom of the [steering] wheel, which is pure, hard carbon, has then come up and basically karate chopped my hand."
DR: "So then, you've got the shock of the crash and then adrenaline, so I've come on the radio, and I'd, I think I'd been like, oh sorry, like I've crashed or something. And then, is he like 'oh, you alright?' or 'can you continue?' and I was like, 'no, the car is damaged.' And then, I could feel my hand, and I was like, 'ow, my hand, my hand.' And then I just, it started to, like the pain just went, obviously ramped up really, really quickly, and I feared that something was bad. So, as I'm, I wanted, I was like, 'I need to get my glove off, I need to get my glove off.' And as I'm pulling my glove off, I remember, I was thinking, *awkward huffy laugh*, I was like 'if there's a bone through the skin, I'm gonna pass out.' So that's all, I was just like 'please, please don't let me see anything gruesome.' I'm not good with this stuff, I'm sweating telling it, like I'm serious. I suck at this.
TC: "Have you broken a bone before?"
DR: "I broke my arm as a kid at school, throwing a tennis ball. Anyway, yeah, another very random accident, and I didn't need surgery, that was like a long, long healing process."
DR: "But yeah, so, alright, so I've pulled my glove off, and I, I could see it was already quite swollen, but no bone through the skin. I was like, 'okay.' But then the pain just got so bad, so as soon as I jumped into the medical car, I was *long pause* making a lot of noises, because I was in a lot of discomfort. So I knew that it was not good. I knew immediately, obviously, I wasn't going to race on the weekend. Like I didn't need a doctor to tell me. I feared it was a broken bone. I think the first thing that really kind of just made me sad, was I just had a very, very productive summer break. I felt really, really good physically, and I was just, yeah I was just ready to go. And this just felt like an unfortunate setback. But I was just more worried about surgery and all that, because I'm, again, I'm a bit of a wuss.
TC: "What happened next, I mean, you went down to Barcelona, to Dr. Xavier Mir, who is renowned in the MotoGP world, for mending those sort of breaks. I also think he was, didn't he help Lance Stroll earlier in the year as well?" "Yeah" "So who put you in touch with him, or did you know him already?"
DR: "So from the medical center, we went to the hospital there in Amsterdam. Got scans, and they're like, 'yeah, it's broken.' And by this point, it's the size, like, looked like an elephant stepped on my hand. The doctor there said, 'look, I would recommend surgery.' He's like, 'you can have it here, but you probably want to wait anyway a few days for the swelling to go down. Speak to whoever you need to speak to and obviously you can have your surgery wherever you want, I'm just going to give you my advice.' So then we reached out to Lance, we reached out to, well Jose, a friend of ours who works with Alpinestars, so he knows all the MotoGP guys, and he, he's Spanish as well, so he knows. So he, I think, put us into touch with Xavier Mir, and then, yeah, Lance was like 'go to him' as well. All signs were just pointing to, this guy's done this too many times, just go see him. Like, like don't even bother, just go there.
DR: "So it was, it was a blessing and a curse because, *laughs* he does a lot of MotoGP guys, who, are not human. They are not. It's fact, they are not. So, I think there's an expectation of me going in there, he's like 'oh, F1, MotoGP, same! Not human, don't feel pain.' 'No, doctor, I feel pain. I'm going to cry for the next 48 hours whilst I'm in this hospital.' So it was just funny, they, I think, you know, all the doctors and nurses and that who were helping me, and they were great, but I think they were, they were just quite, they would laugh a lot, because I would wince and pull away and ask questions every needle that went into my arm. Erm, so I think they just thought I would be tough like a MotoGP rider, but I am not."
TC: "I'm sure you were."
DR: "No, no, trust me, I'm not. The break itself was quite significant. It was a shatter, like it wasn't like, oh you just break it clean down the middle. I think it was in eight pieces or something. So it was also, for a bone that can be quite a simple one, it wasn't too pretty."
TC: "So it's your pinky that was being affected by it?" "Erm, well..." "On your left hand?"
DR: "It's like the outside of the hand. So that's the bone I broke, in between like the wrist and the pinky, like that knuckle. So like along the outside there. But even me just rubbing my finger over the top of my hand, hurt like crazy. Maybe I just feel pain more than others, I don't know. *laughs* But er, sorry, I just want to, just let's also say one thing. There was also the reality where, yes, I would moan and complain because I don't like the pain. But it was a broken hand, so there was also a part of me which was like, 'look, dude, yes you're in pain and it's going to be a bit of a process, but people have worse injuries, people have bigger accidents.' So don't get me wrong, I also tried to reality check myself through it all, and I think that's what made me quite, like remain quite positive."
TC: "You missed five races, you came back for Austin. Was there any talk of you getting back earlier, maybe for Qatar?"
DR: "So I knew, I was doing physio every day, and I was, I was doing what I could to come back as soon as possible. But I also wanted to make sure, and I think, you know, Red Bull/Alpha Tauri were really good with this, I wasn't fighting for a world championship, like it's not like, dude you need to just drive through immense pain and just get a point, you know because this is your titles on the line. Like it was, let's make sure you do this and heal properly, and get the right treatment, because also you've got, hopefully a second part of your career which is going to be long and glorious. So it was just, don't compromise anything that you then have a bum hand for the next two years of your career, three years, whatever. So it was good, I could just do it properly."
DR: "Qatar was talked about, I went on the sim the week of Qatar, on the Monday, but I couldn't, er, yet, drive with the full force of the steering, like so we would like bring the feedback down. Er, I just couldn't grip it and do more than like two laps at full strength. So it was very clear that Qatar was out of the question, and also for me to come back and like, yeah, I don't know, not drive at my best and then, no, that no one benefits. I don't benefit, the team doesn't. So er, it was that, at that point we're like, let's just go all in for Austin and make sure I'm good for that."
TC: "And Liam was doing a decent job as well"
DR: "Exactly, he was doing well and there was also, I think Red Bull were great to give me a contract whilst I was injured, to give me a contract for next year. So I, I had that-"
TC: "That was very significant, wasn't it?" "Yeah" "They actually signed you long-term when you were on the sidelines?"
DR: "Yeah, there's so much about being back in the Red Bull family this year that's felt good and right, and I think that was such a, yeah just such like a big thing for them to do that. I think obviously it showed they have a lot of faith in me. It also put to bed if anyone was like, 'oh you know, is there still any issues from their previous relationship years ago? Like is there any carryover tension or whatever?' Like, for them to do that, I think it was very much like, he's our kid and we're going to support him because we believe in him and- So that was really nice."
TC: "So you come back for Austin, and were there any ill effects there? Because I mean, that's a quick track, sector one in particular."
DR: "Er, no, like in, in short no. Erm, I think the race, I got into it quickly and, and, and I was actually honestly expecting more pain in Austin. I was expecting like every kind of bump or kerb I'd hit would be like 'ow, ow, ow.' But it was okay, and erm, I think it was just an endurance I needed to build so like, towards the end of the race, I could feel like my grip strength was maybe not as good as at the start of the race. But honestly, I was, I was fine. And I think that was another thing, I didn't want to get back into a race and then be like, 'yeah I could have done better, but you know, my hand was not up to full strength.' Or like, I was like, this can't be an excuse, and it wasn't, so it was all good."
TC: "And Daniel, you were never going to miss Austin, right?"
DR: "No, I couldn't. I would've loved the result to be better, but no, I couldn't miss Austin.
TC: "The track, the place"
DR: "Yeah, yeah. I love it."
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How do you feel about Jack Drake?? What are your thoughts on him and Tim’s relationship?
Anon, I hope you were interested in a novel, because look, I am fascinated by Jack Drake.  He’s key to a whole lot of what I find compelling about Tim as a character, and if I were in charge of DC, I’d bring him back to life.  This would make Tim unhappy but would IMO make for good plotlines.
Jack and Tim’s relationship is Complicated (TM)...
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Jack and Tim hug in Nightwing 20 / Jack impulsively yanks a TV out of the wall in Robin 45 / Tim grieves in Identity Crisis
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“I could tell the truth.  But I don’t.” - Robin 66
...and it involves a whole lot of Tim lying, and feeling guilty about lying, and thinking about telling the truth, and choosing again and again to keep lying.
And I think that’s great.
Below the cut:
Shorter version - key points about Jack
Really long version - my gentler take (vigilantism is choir and Jack loves sports) vs. my harsher take (Jack has some major flaws)
Final thoughts
Shorter version - key points about Jack:
He’s a bad parent.  He’s self-centered, he consistently prioritizes his own comfort and interests over his son’s, and when upset, he does things like order Tim off to boarding school.
But he’s never a bad parent in an actionable way.  He’s not like David Cain or Arthur Brown, who are abusive monsters.  Jack’s not a monster!  He just...kinda sucks.
He genuinely loves Tim. If Jack’s aware that Tim’s disappeared or is in trouble, he’s always worried and upset.  He periodically resolves to be a better dad, and IMO he’s always sincere.
And Tim loves him, a lot.  Tim’s protective of him and worries about him when he’s kidnapped or in danger, and when they’re reunited, Tim’s really relieved and usually hugs him (and Jack hugs back!). 
...But they have very little in common, and that’s a problem. Jack doesn’t value the things that Tim values, or respect the people that Tim admires, or care about the things that Tim’s interested in.  Tim lies to him a lot, but that’s partly because he correctly guesses Jack wouldn’t respond well if he knew the truth of what Tim’s up to.
The Batfamily is a surrogate family that Tim’s drawn to because of the ways his real family doesn’t meet his emotional needs…but also he feels guilty about that and disloyal. (And to the extent that his dad recognizes what’s going on, he's jealous and resentful!)
Very long version:
(LISTEN I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS)
Okay!  So first: Jack’s a character who IMO is pretty up for interpretation.  You can interpret him very charitably, and make excuses for the bad behavior, and fill in the blanks sympathetically when situations are ambiguous; or you can interpret him uncharitably, and emphasize the bad behavior. I don’t think either approach is invalid - it depends on what kind of story you’re interested in!  I have enjoyed Bad Dad stories and also stories that redeem Jack.
My personal take on canon is that Jack and Tim’s relationship is in a gray area.  Jack's definitely neglectful, and he does prioritize other things over Tim, but he’s never so bad that Tim can easily reject him, and he's never so bad that Bruce could justify taking Tim away.  He's just...not great.  Tim loves him, and feels loyal to him, but it’s a very mixed-up complicated love.
I have a gentler take and a harsher one which I switch between as the spirit moves me. xD
My Gentler Take (tl;dr: vigilantism is choir and Jack loves sports)
Here’s the core conflict: Jack and Tim are very different people with different values.  Tim idolizes Bruce and Dick and vigilantism, and secretly gets involved, knowing his dad will hate it. He gets increasingly wrapped up in his secret world and lies to his dad...because if his dad finds out, he’ll make Tim quit.
This is a great setup for an ongoing comic.  It’s practical, because it provides endless potential for plotlines, and it’s nicely thematic, because it maps closely onto relatable real-life situations with extracurricular activities:
Tim the drama nerd whose dad thinks he’s playing football and not in the school play; 
Tim the closeted-queer kid secretly getting involved in his school’s politically-active Gay-Straight Alliance; 
Tim the choir kid whose dad only values making money and wants him to go into the family business (and Tim keeps promising himself he'll give up choir soon, definitely soon, but maybe he'll stay in just a liiiittle longer, because they need him, you see, the last tenor left town, so...); 
Tim the computer geek with the sports-obsessed dad (this one’s just canon);
etc. etc.  
The extracurricular metaphor works pretty well for Tim’s relationship to vigilantism.  Tim's involved in his "extracurricular" because he genuinely thinks it's important and fulfilling, and he values it and wants to be good at it. He idolizes Bruce and Dick because they're good at it. He's been collecting information about it since he was a little kid, and hiding it from his parents because he knows they wouldn't approve. And mayyyybe there's also an element of low-key rebellion against his dad, and maybe that's secretly part of the appeal. And yet also as Tim gets more and more invested, he starts to daydream: maybe I could tell my dad and he'd be proud of me and supportive. But he doesn't, because actually he knows his dad would be upset and angry and make him quit.
And - again, just like with lonely kids and extracurricular hobbies - one of the things that happens is that Tim starts getting his unfilled emotional needs met ... by people he knows through this secret hobby. And people like Bruce and Dick start turning into a surrogate family. Which Tim feels guilty about. And also as Tim gets more and more wrapped up in their world, he has to lie to his dad even more, which means the distance between Tim and his dad gets bigger and bigger and more and more unfixable.
I love this dilemma. It's simple, it's recognizable, it provides endless sources for conflict, and there's no obvious solution! Tim can't tell Jack: he'll make Tim quit! And Tim doesn't want to quit, because he loves choir / art / theater / whatever.  Yeah, it’s difficult, and there are challenges, and sometimes he has doubts...but at the end of the day, he cares about it a lot.  And everything he values is there, and all the people he admires and cares about are there, and all he wants in the world is to feel like he's one of them and belongs there. So he has to lie, even though he doesn't want to lie, and he feels guilty about it...
...but also he ends up lying more and more.
(Sidenote: I think it's important that Tim chooses to keep lying - Tim's narration often glosses this as "I have to lie to my dad," and that's certainly how it feels to Tim, but this... isn't quite true. He has to lie to his dad, because if he doesn't, his dad will get mad at him and try to stop him, not because he literally has no choice about it.)
Other Reasons Why I Like The "Secret Extracurricular" Interpretation
(tl;dr it complicates not just Tim's relationship with his dad, but also all his other relationships)
Tim's problems have some obvious parallels to Steph and Cass, who both become vigilantes while rejecting their evil supervillain dads. But Jack isn't evil. And that means the Tim-and-Jack relationship is ambiguous and complicated in ways that I like. Steph and Cass can just leave their Bad Dads in prison, and say good riddance, and feel very righteous and triumphant about it! Tim’s more complicated. Tim gets into vigilantism ostensibly out of duty and altruism, but secretly, he's also involved for straight-up selfish self-fulfillment reasons. He's lonely, and bored, and his life feels pointless, but he thinks that Bruce and Dick are cool and amazing and he wants to be a part of the things that they do.  When his dad gets jealous of Tim’s relationship to Bruce, and feels like Tim’s looking for a surrogate family, he’s... not wrong.
And the ways in which Jack is not Actionably Bad complicate things from Bruce's POV.  If Jack was a straight-up villain, it’d be an easy call to keep in touch when Jack finds out and makes Tim quit...but he’s not a villain, not really.  So what do you do?  Do you try to surreptitiously stay in touch with Tim even though you’re ignoring his dad’s express wishes and thus forcing Tim to sneak around?  Do you respect his dad’s wishes and stay away from Tim even though you have a years-long relationship at this point?  
Again: a bit similar to the extracurricular analogy.  Say you’re the choir director and you’ve built this whole relationship with a kid in the choir, and you’re an important mentor to him and you care about him etc. etc. etc.... and then right before a big performance, his dad finds out he’s been secretly involved, and yanks him out.  How would you react?  Well, maybe kind of in some of the ways Bruce reacts.  You replace him. You’re annoyed with him. You miss him. You want him to come back. You’re also worried about him.  You’re upset with his dad.  But also... what should you do, exactly?
Bruce and Alfred and Dick care about Tim as if he were part of their family, but he’s not part of their family, and there’s a lot of interesting tension there.
My Harsher Take
Jack never hits his son.  But his temper is a big deal.
In his worst moments, he takes out his anger on Tim’s stuff - wrecking his room, or ripping his TV out of the wall and confiscating it.  When he’s worried about Tim, he usually expresses that fear by yelling at him / punishing him / sending him away - threatening to send him to boarding school in Metropolis in Robin III, or threatening to send him to military school abroad in Robin 92, or actually forcing him to go to an all-boys' boarding school post-NML.  
This is bad behavior!  It is Not Good!  
And you can easily connect the dots to a bunch of Tim’s terrible coping mechanisms, like the constant lying and or the fact that Tim’s go-to methods for dealing with interpersonal conflict are 1) repress it and pretend it never happened (most of his fights with Bruce), 2) withdraw from the relationship until he can pretend the conflict doesn’t exist (when his friends get mad at him in YJ, he quits the team for a while), or 3) literally run away from home.
Also, Jack is a Manly Man with firm opinions about how men behave vs. how women behave, and he thinks boys shouldn’t be scared and thinks Tim should date hot girls and pushes Tim to work out and wants him to play football and expresses period-typical sexism, etc. etc. etc. ... and though obviously this wasn’t what the writers had in mind at the time, all of that is certainly interesting to read backwards in the light of Tim as a queer character.
More Disorganized Thoughts on Jack Drake
Tim’s our hero, so we’re naturally more sympathetic to him, but it’s also true that relationships are a two-way street, and Tim doesn’t value any of the things his dad values, either.  Jack at various points is shown to care about grades, business, money, boarding schools, archeology, football, a kind of macho bragging-about-dating-hot-women ethos, and a very public and performative kind of caring. Tim tends to respond with discomfort or disinterest or even disgust.  When Jack gets on TV to try to rally the government to save his son from No Man’s Land, Tim isn’t touched—he’s mortified.  When Jack makes some bad investments and loses money, Jack’s deeply upset and his self-image is majorly impacted, and far from being sympathetic, Tim’s annoyed and kind of contemptuous of the idea that this is a problem.  Jack thinks fishing in the early morning and going to tennis matches is a fun father-son activity; Tim finds it exhausting and tedious.  And so on.
This means that Tim often longs to be closer to his dad in theory, but this longing is more tied to fantasy than to reality. He rarely seems to enjoy spending time with His-Dad-The-Actual-Person.  So for example, when Tim’s deadly ill with the Clench, he has an extremely poignant fever dream about telling his dad the truth and getting hugged…even as he insists in real-life to Alfred and Dick that he does not want them to tell his dad what’s going on.
The same is true of Jack, who IMO genuinely wants to be closer to his son and is continually declaring that he’s going to turn over a new leaf and get closer to his son…and just as continually backs out of activities or loses his temper when faced with spending time with his actual son.
Tim and his dad sadly get along best—by far—in Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder situations.  When Jack gets kidnapped or is in danger, Tim worries for him (and Tim grieves him deeply when he dies).  When Tim disappears or runs away, Jack’s genuinely worried about him.  So e.g. they have a really moving emotional reunion and hug when the earthquake hits Gotham, and Tim panics about his dad’s safety and comes running home (and meanwhile Jack’s been panicked about Tim’s safety!).  It’s the day-to-day, regular life stuff where they don’t connect.
Jack's written quite differently by different writers. Mostly, Tim's parents are at their least likable in his early appearances and early miniseries (this is where you get, for example, Jack and Janet being nasty at each other while a pained employee looks on, and Tim disappointed to once again get news of where his parents are via postcard - "I guess that sums them up! Never know where they’re going to be–or when–or even how long!” - and Tim alone on school break, and Bruce and Alfred thinking there's something weird going on with Tim's parents, etc. etc.). Jack's more sympathetic but still often unlikable in most of Tim's Robin solo, and he's almost invisible (but positively treated if he does show up) in Tim's team books.
For obvious reasons, Jack's remembered way more sympathetically after his death. Tim's completely devastated by Jack's murder, which he arrives moments too late to prevent, and he basically never gets over it. We see him grieving Jack again and again in Robin, and also in Teen Titans, and also in Resurrection, and again in the Halloween Special, and again in Batman: Blackest Night, and all the way up to the end of Red Robin. Tim also grieves for an extended time over Janet - he hallucinates a happy reunion with her when he's feverish in Contagion, and hallucinates her in the final issue of Robin, and the reveal-your-buried-emotions song in Robin 102 brings up his grief for her too (meanwhile, other characters dance or laugh or otherwise get giddy).  Tim’s grief over his parents’ deaths is intense and long-lasting.
I'm not going to clip comic panels because this is long enough, but if you're curious, here's a nice and fairly lengthy compilation of comic panels with Tim and Jack.
If you're interested in a Jack-centric story with a softer-but-still-recognizably-canon take on Jack, I really like the way Jack’s narration is written in the one-shots Heart Humble (set shortly before Jack dies) and Never a Hero (Ra's resurrects him during Brucequest, and Jack's archeology skills turn out to be unexpectedly useful).
#tim drake#jack drake#ask tag#i wrote this ages ago and now i can't remember what i was going to add to it so oh well draft amnesty? sorry for the long wait anon!! <333#anyway i kept this carefully on topic and virtuously did not derail into talking about the other blorbo but tags are for disorganization SO#for me this kinda half-in half-out place where tim is with the batfamily is SUCH an interesting part of his relationship with dick#and i never stop turning it over in my head#he's kiiiinda replaced dick in that he's robin - but in a very real way he *hasn't* - he's NOT bruce's new son the way jason was#and early!tim makes a BIG POINT of how bruce is not his dad#and i think this relative distance from bruce is a huge factor in why dick is able to build a close relationship with tim at all#(because dick's still pretty estranged from bruce!)#and there's such interesting tension there when dick starts jokingly calling tim ''little brother'' or when villains call them brothers#because they're NOT. increasingly they would both LIKE to be brothers! but dick has zero official standing in tim's life#if tim got hit by a car in his civilian identity bruce and dick wouldn't even be able to visit him without his dad's permission#which jack would be pretty unlikely to give! jack doesn't like or trust bruce!#or like. this is morbid. but if tim died. dick wouldn't even be invited to the funeral you know?#and there's such interesting tension there for me in the contrast between this vigilante relationship that's very very close#but in their civilian lives no one would assume they're anything in particular to each other#anyway the 1st half of tim's robin solo has this thread of tension between tim's family life vs. his vigilante life (plus his mom's death)#and then the second half + red robin has the thread of struggling with grief in a world that's not fair + feeling lost/alone#and these two threads are a big part of my interest in tim as a character! jack's the backdrop that makes a lot of stories possible
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Why don't I see anyone mentioning this moment in Mater National championship
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DOC OPENLY SAYING HE'S PROUD OF LIGHTNING. CALLING HIM SON???
I'm scratching the walls, I'm going insane. Doc and Lightning's relationship is something I held so dearly
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calnexin · 1 year
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these two drive me insane
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not gonna watch the dream video because i’m already having a stressful day and don’t need his shit rn but unfriendly reminder that i hate him and he is an awful person lying out of his ass and if you STILL support him after everything i do not want you here end of story non-negotiable unfollow me block me LEAVE
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chernabogs · 7 days
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I think if the Dia family could drive Sebek would use a turn signal religiously (he strikes me as a competent driver), Silver would be the designated navigator, Malleus would be hitting the legal speed limit on the dot out of sheer concern (slow lane kimg), and Lilia would be the one with a 3x suspended license who drives to get takeout
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sneeb-canons · 6 months
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every time heart crosses the road he says ‘don’t kill someone today challenge. don’t run me over challenge’ as if that will persuade the cars Not To Kill Him
Headcanon #227
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