I miss his gauges too much

anonymous asked:

Pssst. If you're still looking for Timmy prompts, I'm a sucker for sick!Tim. Bonus if he's in "work 'till I drop" mode. And actually collapses before anyone really puts together what's up with him.

I feel like this isn’t quite what you were hoping for, but I tried? Uni is stressing me out a bit at the moment and as a result I’m in a bit of a creative slump so this is a lot shorter than I would have liked and probably terrible but oh well at least it’s finally posted.

Probably set either not too long after Bruce adopts Tim or while his dad is in a coma.

He can hear Tim’s voice arguing with someone when he arrives at the front office, which is reassuring. Or maybe not so much, because Tim tends to get more snappish and argumentative when he’s not alright. Bruce takes a second to school his features into something resembling neutrality - if too much concern leaks through, Tim will either retreat into himself or lash out at him as well, both of which would be counterproductive - without looking disinterested and pushes the door open to step inside. 

Tim’s eyes are wide when they latch onto him, shimmering with frustration that nobody believes his claims that he’s fine. He opens his mouth - presumably to protest being taken home - but the school receptionist gets in first with a relieved, “Mr Wayne, thank you for coming.”

“Of course,“ Bruce says. He sits down next to Tim, looking him over. He doesn’t like what he sees; too pale, dark smudges under his eyes, cheeks tinted pink, a slight squint as he tries to glare past the headache pounding behind his eyes. 

“They told me you passed out. How do you feel?”

Tim lifts a hand to scrub at his eyes, prickling with heat beneath the sheen of exhausted tears he’s trying desperately to keep at bay. "I didn’t pass out,” he protests. “Just got a little dizzy ’s all.”

“That’s not the bit that was a question, Tim,” Bruce says firmly. He catches Tim’s hand and pulls it away from his face, pressing his own knuckles to his cheek to gauge how high his fever is. “And I expect an honest answer.”

Tim huffs, but he leans into Bruce’s touch, eyes closing as he admits in a whisper, “Not fantastic.”

It’s an understatement if Bruce has ever heard one, but it’s better than nothing.

Despite how exhausted he clearly looks, his pulse is racing when Bruce presses two fingers against the point beneath his jaw. Bruce frowns. “How much coffee have you had today?”

“I couldn’t miss school, B.”

“Tim. How many cups?”

“Four? Five? I dunno.” Tim leans a little more heavily against him. “Everything’s… hazy. ’S moving too fast.”

Way too much coffee and not enough sleep then. A bad enough combination on its own, but when he seems to be coming down with something as well…

“Okay. Let’s get you home and into bed.”

Bruce stands up and pulls Tim to his feet as well. The teen sways slightly and Bruce tucks him against his side, an arm around his shoulders for support. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

Tim’s eyes are focused on putting one foot in front of the other but he tilts his head enough that Bruce can see a smile playing over his lips. “I know,” he replies quietly, then adds almost to himself, “’S weird being picked up by a parent.”

Bruce’s heart clenches. Tim is clearly out of it, or he’d never let even that small detail about his crappy childhood slip out. He wonders how often Tim battled through school with a fever because nobody was at home to take care of him, or how often he felt a spark of hope when someone was called to pick him up, only for it to be crushed out when it was just one of his many nannies. Tim stumbles going down the front steps of the school and Bruce automatically hugs him a little tighter. He makes a vow to himself, as Tim smiles gratefully, open and lopsided with exhaustion and fever, that he’s going to be here for this kid more than he has been, make sure he knows that he’s loved and wanted no matter what. Starting with taking him home and letting Alfred fuss over him.

lost and found xii

bughead fanfiction - unbeta’d - chapter twelve


“Letting go doesn’t mean that
you don’t care about someone
anymore. It’s just realizing that
the only person you really have
control over is yourself.”
-Deborah Reber

It’s in the dead of night when Jughead gets a call from his dad.

Blinking blearily, he untangles himself from Betty as he taps his screen to accept the call. There’s confusion at first, as he doesn’t recognize the number. “H’lo?”


Pausing the movement of rubbing the grit in his eye, Jughead feels his body tense and then ease at recognizing his father’s voice. “Dad—“

“I’m being released.” FP cuts him off, sounding slightly apologetic. “Mind giving your old man a ride?”

Holding in a sigh of frustration, Jughead lets his head fall back as his gaze trails to the dark ceiling. He’s not fully awake to make sense of the scrambled emotions in him, but it doesn’t matter. Walking over to Tobi’s crib, he makes sure the baby’s sleeping soundly before moving to throw on some clothing.

“I’ll be right there.” He answers before hanging up.

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Phanfic #2 | This is London, Right?

Description: This phanfiction is a one-shot based on a fantastic radio show moment. You can find the clip easiest by YouTube searching: Dan looking Sad, Phil looking worried. It’s super adorable and I couldn’t resist writing a little Phan snippet, inspired by the clip’s dialogue.

Genre: Fluff, angst

Warnings: None really, Dan talks briefly about an existential crisis, awkward moments


“Probably not. No – lets just move on.” Dan’s smile broke, his eyes dropped to floor, hands tugging at the table cloth. The moment dissolved into an uncomfortable pause. The eyes that demanded an answer darted away from Dan. Their sharp smiles proceeded to enhance the tension. Phil was the one to finally break the silence.

“Well, Europe was quite crazy. I went to Switzerland, Austria, and Germany all in three days.” Phil was sure to exaggerate his hand motions to draw attention away from a mortified Dan. The dinner guests seemed to be content with the change in subject though a few blank faces still locked in on Dan’s drooping posture and nervous glances.

The dinner continued for another hour and Dan was sure he would drop dead before the end of it. But Phil managed to keep the conversations rolling. He could be a master at small talk. At the end of the night, Dan and Phil ducked into a cab and quietly made their way back home, relieved. But Phil was worried and he was not going to ignore Dan’s obvious sadness.

“Dan?” Phil was using his soft voice now, a voice reserved for only serious, intimate matters. Dan, knowing his boyfriend’s schemes, looked away nervously so he wouldn’t be caught with misty eyes.

“Uh, yeah, something up?” Dan was fumbling with the duvet.

“Yes, I can tell something is up with you, Dan.” Phil moved closer yet subtle enough Dan wouldn’t be intimidated any more. Phil was patient with Dan, he learned over the years of them being together, how to handle these moments. At dinner, one of Dan’s colleagues had asked about how his life was going – simple conversation. Although Dan was dealing with something a lot more than simple. Phil’s Europe trip had interrupted their lives and in his absence, Dan became doubtful and scared. The existential crisis he experienced was real but he still tried to poke fun at it. Maybe he hoped it would distract him from the loneliness. Now Dan was sat with tears pooling at his eyes, unable to hold anything else back. He froze in realization of his current state. He felt too vulnerable.

“Dan, shh. Now there, what is bothering you?” Phil touched Dan’s shoulder, gauging how badly Dan was in need of attention.

“I-I can’t. No it’s nothing,” Dan croaked. Phil fully embraced Dan now, grabbing tightly around his shoulders. Dan pulled Phil back into their bed and stayed there until he was able to speak more steadily.

“I missed you so much. And that is kind of silly because we’re literally by each other’s side twenty four-seven. But I felt so lonely.” Dan leaned into Phil and took in his scent. The rainy night had created a musk mixed with Phil’s regular, blossom-like essence.

“I missed you too, bear. I am here now and will be here always. This is London, right?” Phil said turning his face into Dan’s neck. Dan chuckled, “Jesus, yes. This is London, you spork.”

One Girl and Two Boys - part 4

Bucky Barnes x Reader x Steve Rogers

Summary: Reader is dating Steve until he gets hit during a mission. Slowly, Reader and Bucky will get to know each other better and transform their friendship into something else.

Word Count: 1,162

Warnings: Maybe Language and Angst (I don’t even know anymore)

A/N: Everything involving Wakanda is based on what I remember from the comics. PRIDE is their inteligence agency and the Dora Milaje are the King’s bodyguard. Hope you’ll like this one.

(cross-posted to Ao3)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Originally posted by slayalec

Y/N’s hotel room, New York | One Month after Steve’s Death

You fumbled around in your drawer and gathered a few clothes and some bare necessities, which included a necklace that Steve gave you for your first anniversary and a t-shirt Bucky gave you that Christmas.

You zipped the bag closed when the front door slammed shut. Bucky shouted your name as he entered your hotel room. He frowned when he saw you and your bag.

“You’re leaving? Where are you going?”

“Wakanda.” You replied, adjusting your backpack on your shoulders. “I can’t stay here. I know that somewhere in New York people are experimenting with Steve’s body and… I just can’t stay here anymore.”

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nemesis729  asked:

I love your drabble, Responsibility. The interaction between Henrik and Caroline gets me in the feels! I would love to see more. Like, what pet did Henrik get? What did he name it? And Caroline and Klaus pet sitting for *reasons*? TBH, I want more klaroline with Henrik. Anyway, thank you!

This is less pet-sitting and more babysitting, but I hope you like it! There is heavy reference to Esther and Mikael’s recent passing in this fic, in case anyone wants to know before reading. No details, but it does get angsty. Sequel to Responsibility.

More Responsibility || Klaroline

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Caroline asked into her phone. She looked nervously at the imposing house where Elijah Mikaelson lived, and she suddenly felt underdressed in jeans. “Your brother doesn’t even know me.”

Klaus chuckled from the other end of the line. “He knows enough, love,” he reassured her. “Plus, Henrik is already excited you’re watching him tonight, and I know you don’t want to let him down.”

Narrowing her eyes, she resolutely pressed the doorbell. “You’re evil, you know that? Pure evil.”

The front door swung open before Klaus could respond, and Caroline waited patiently as the suit-clad man gave her a calculating look. “Miss Forbes, I presume?”

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Early Morning Skype Call

A/N: This isn’t a request I was just feeling it!

It was two in the morning and you had no idea why you were even awake. You had and early morning class at eight but for some unknown reason your tired eyes were more interested in the computer screen than going to bed. Maybe it was the coffee you had at five or all the candy you had after dinner.

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