varevare replied to your post “So, for the past few days, my dog Bandit has not been doing well….”
oh dear *hugs you* I’m so sorry, I hope she will be happy these days
wisiaden replied to your post “So, for the past few days, my dog Bandit has not been doing well….”
*huggles* That’s okay. Spend as much time with her as you can.
cr1mson5thestranger replied to your post “So, for the past few days, my dog Bandit has not been doing well….”
*huggles* I’m right here for you when you need me, honey.
babybirdblues replied to your post “So, for the past few days, my dog Bandit has not been doing well….”
I’m so sorry baby. *cuddles*
tetroski replied to your post “So, for the past few days, my dog Bandit has not been doing well….”
Oh, curses, I’m so sorry. That’s awful. :(
*hugs you all* Thank you all so much. Your thoughts and words are appreciated. I just *flounders*
I’m not going to handle this well, no matter what.
In related news, she’s basically stopped being able to walk unassisted. ;A;
incogneat-oh replied to your post “~100 Followers~”
len-yan replied to your post “~100 Followers~”
congrats babe! <333
cr1mson5thestranger replied to your post “wisiaden replied to your post: ~100 Followers~ Congrats dear :D …”
Ahhh, thank you all! *cuddles and snuggles you all*
incogneat-oh replied to your photo: *HUGS* Thank you so much, wonderful,…
I’m so sorry, Kim. She sounds like a fantastic pet, and I’m sure her life with you was wonderful.
*huggles* Thank you, Darling. And she really was wonderful. She’d even try to talk to us (which, I will admit, was annoying when I was trying to watch TV, but it was adorable and a good work around the no barking rule. >.>) and we had bells hanging on the front and back doors that she’d ring if she wanted out. And she did not like strange things and you couldn’t make her do anything if she didn’t want to (and if she wanted to do something, she didn’t want your help. She wanted to do it all by herself, thank you). Didn’t like strangers either. Or anyone else coming into the house. It was only in the past…probably year or two that she finally warmed up to my best friend (in that she let my friend pet her and didn’t scowl and grumble and leave the room when she came over. It only took about twelve years.)
Sorry for spamming with memories. I just…it still feels like it hasn’t even hit how much I’ll miss her? Not really? It just hasn’t sunk in that I’ll never see any of her little quirks ever again.
cr1mson5thestranger replied to your photo: *HUGS* Thank you so much, wonderful,…
*waddles up and huggles*
((Have some Core 4 ridiculousness, hon. <3))
It wasn’t like it was every day that patrol went bad for Tim. It wasn’t even like it was *most* days. All in all, him getting injured on the job was much less frequent than people thought it was. However, seeing as those infrequent injuries were typically messy and painful and left rather spectacular scars, it wasn’t that surprising that, after a particularly nasty fight, Tim was sitting propped up against the wall of a shop and being questioned thoroughly by his friends.
“Who’s the current President of the United States?” Conner asked.
The answer flew off the tip of Tim’s tongue before he could catch it, so he settled for the first thing that came to mind. “Mitt Romn—Obama!”
Conner shook his head. “Sorry, dude. Mitt Romnobama wasn’t even a candidate.”
Tim felt a flush rising up on his cheeks. Stupid—of course—fucking names—
“It’s okay,” Cassie soothed, putting a hand on his knee. “We’ll try something simpler. Where are you?”
“Um…” Tim bit his lip. “San Francisco,” he said slowly.
Tim thought for a moment and shook his head.
Bart was suddenly beside him, pulling him to his feet. “Hate to tell you this, Tim,” he said, irritatingly jovial, “but you’re concussed.”
“I noticed,” Tim slurred.
Ooooooh, poor Tim. Thank you, Lovely! This was delightful! <3
(Again, I’m so sorry this turned out the way it did. I fail at cute. OTL)
“Well, that was a spectacular waste of twenty dollars and two and a half hours of my life that I’ll never get back.”
Dick didn’t comment as Tim stood up to take the DVD out. Tim had decided to surprise him, so he had bought some new horror movie Dick had been raving endlessly about wanting to see and brought it with him to the manor. “Let me tell you, big brother, you’ve got some questionable taste in movies,” Tim said, pushing the DVD back into its case. “This was totally the worst thing I think I’ve ever seen. The special effects were shit, the acting was straight out of the 1950’s, and the plot had more holes than Swiss cheese. Am I right, Dick? Dick?” When there was still no answer, Tim turned to look at his brother and smiled. “Aw, you always fall asleep. No fair, man.” He spread a blanket over his older brother, who was slumped on the couch, and pressed a quick kiss to his temple. “Goodnight, Dick.”
Tim padded out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen. Alfred was standing there, silently watching the cookies in the oven bake. A half-chalky, half-smoky scent reached Tim’s nostrils, and he coughed. “Alfred, I think the cookies are burning. You might want to take them out soon.”
He didn’t stop to get the cookies himself. Alfred was perfectly capable of getting them himself. And he would’ve asked Tim for help if he needed it, Tim was sure.
Tim shuffled on through the lobby, glancing out one of the windows to see Jason sitting on the porch swing, a cigarette poking out of his mouth and one arm around Stephanie. He shook his head and chuckled a bit before heading down into the Batcave.
Damian was sitting idly atop one of the balance beams. Tim ignored him and walked over to Bruce, who was sitting at the computer, staring up at it intently. “Hey, I know you’re busy, but this’ll just take a second,” Tim told him, grabbing a report off the printer. In true Bruce fashion, there was no response.
When Tim went back upstairs, the front door was open, and Conner was standing in the entryway.
Tim smiled at him, cordial. “You’re here late,” he remarked.
But Conner looked…oddly distressed. He reached out and placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder, as if to ground him. “It’s the middle of the day, Tim,” he said. “What the hell is going on?”
Tim blinked, his smile fading. “I’m…enjoying quality time with the family.”
“Family? What family are you talking about?”
“Everyone’s home today,” Tim explained excitedly. “Alfred, Bruce, Dick, Damian—Jason and Steph are sitting on the porch, didn’t you see them?”
Conner looked him over once before shaking his head, muttering something under his breath, and grabbing Tim by the arm. “C’mon, dude, let’s get you to the tower.”
Tim planted his feet in a futile effort to stop his super-strong friend, but it was no use. Conner was dragging him out the door and down the steps, and the message was clear: You’re coming with me, whether you want to or not. “W-what are you doing?” Tim demanded. “The family weekend—”
“Is cancelled, Tim,” Conner snapped. “They’re dead, man, all of them. They’ve been dead for three weeks.”
Tim started to argue, twisting in his friend’s grip to call for help from Jason and Steph. But all he saw was an empty porch and a swing swaying ever so slightly in the wind, back and forth, back and forth…
(I haven’t sent anything in a long time, so have a thing.) 1/?: Tim’s arms were elbow-deep in hot, soapy water, and he was grimacing. Dick didn’t think Tim realized he was there; his earphones were in, and since he was doing the dishes, he probably had it turned up. Dick peered around the doorway into the kitchen, watching his little brother glower down at the dirty dishes in the sink. He heaved a sigh. It didn’t take a genius to see that Tim was in pain, but Tim was the only genius ignoring it.
2/?: Dick cleared his throat and stepped into the room. “Hey, Timmy!” he greeted his little brother, loudly and jovially. “What’s up?” Tim startled, his eyes snapping up to Dick’s face in less than a second, and for that moment, he looked…oddly guilty. Ashamed, as though he’d been caught. The expression was gone in the blink of an eye, though, and he was not-smiling at Dick. “Nothing, really,” he said. “Just doing the dishes. You?” Dick pursed his lips, nodding down at Tim’s arms. “You okay?”
3/?: “W-what do you mean?” Tim stammered. Dick smiled, a little pityingly. “C’mon, kiddo. Look at you. I can tell when you’re hurting.” Tim’s face flushed, and he looked away quickly. “Let me see,” Dick insisted, pulling one of Tim’s arms out of the water despite the boy’s protests. His jaw almost hit the floor. Tim’s arm was covered in scars too neat and straight to have come from patrol. A few fresh cuts stood out, red and puckered, against Tim’s pale skin. “Oh. Oh, Timmy.”
4/?: Tim pursed his lips. “Dick, I—” His voice faltered, and he cut himself off. Dick shook his head, cradling Tim’s still-wet arm against his chest. “I’d hoped you wouldn’t find out,” Tim admitted, his voice cracking. Dick could barely speak himself. “How long?” he breathed. Tim sounded ashamed. “Since…since Conner died.” Dick shook his head again and held Tim’s arm closer, and lines of scar tissue whispered to him, “That’s right, you’ve failed him. You were never there for him.”
5/6: Suddenly, Dick remembered something. “Stay right there!” he ordered. He began a frantic search of the kitchen, muttering to himself as he pulled open every cabinet and drawer. Eventually, he returned with a tea towel in one hand and a Sharpie in the other. “Hold still.” He carefully dried Tim’s arm, and then began to write on the damaged, scarred skin ever so carefully with the Sharpie marker, his tongue poking out of his mouth and his eyes narrowed in concentration.
6/6: When Dick finished, LOVE had been printed neatly across Tim’s forearm, and a heart had been drawn on his wrist. Tim sighed, giving a tired smile. “Dick—” But he didn’t get to finish before Dick was pulling him into a tight embrace. For a moment, it was just Dick’s chin in Tim’s soft hair and his strong, steady heartbeat in Tim’s ears. Then, quietly, Tim asked, “Am I in trouble?” Dick snickered a little. “No, Timmy. You’re not in trouble.”
Thank you so, so much for sending me this, Darling. You are amazing.
Okay, I have to say, the last line in the first part. I have fangirled over that so much. Like, I don’t think you understand how many times I’ve reread it. Oh, Timmy.
And then…oh Tim. My baby. ;A;
Dick. Your feelings of guilt and Tim trying to hide his pain from Dick and- *wails*
And yes, Dick, be your adorable self and start making things a bit better. You show Timmy he’s loved. Tim…accept the love. Dick isn’t going to fault you. (Also, I love the way you describe the hug. The sensory descriptions are lovely.)
Thank you so much, Darling!
Happy belated birthday, Tigris! Have some Core 4! (Sorry it’s kind of angsty. I tried?)
I…do not know if I did this right (I have never had a submission before). I suspect there is supposed to be something more to this?
Because Tigris is a wonderful person who agreed to help me with an original idea! Thank you so much! (And, of course, if anybody else would like to give some input…wink wink hint hint.)
Okay, I can do it this way, no worries about the email. Apologies if this is a bit disjointed.
Ooohh, such wonderful ideas! Thank you so much!
Oh yay! I’m glad you like them!
I am insanely enjoying this conversation right now. You’re so good at this!
Okay, Tumblr is being idiotic and deleting my reponses. I think I figured out a way to make it save. Ergh it is being even more stupid. Sorry for the format, it’s the only way I could get it to work.
Again, so sorry about the late reply. Homework took over my life this week.
No need for apologies! Homework tends to do that, particularly at the most inconvenient times.
Wow. Late reply is…actually really, really late. So sorry about that! So much came up.
No worries! Life happens.
I’m finally getting back to you after, like, a little more than a month. I’m so sorry.
Pssssh, no apologizing. Life happens (that, and this is your baby, no matter how much fun it is to think about it. I’m just happy to help).
Super-excited because after so long with nothing on the idea front for this—BAM! THOUGHTS!
Always fun when thoughts hit for something!
Tim n' Kon: "Tim. We need to talk." Tim heaved a sigh, pushing away from his desk. "I'm kind of busy here, Kon, can it--" Oh. Oh, shit. He found the pills. Which meant he'd been looking in Tim's cabinets, which meant he'd seen the weapons. Tim stood on shaky legs, swallowing hard. Already bracing himself for the disappointment, the judging. "Kon, I can explain." But it was too late. Conner was already wrapping Tim in a warm, strong embrace that screamed safety and home. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Eeeeee! My first ask fic! Thank you so much, Darling!
I…oh dear…precious boys…that’s right, you hug your bro, Kon. Goodness knows he needs it. Tiiiiiiiiim, you precious baby, stop what you’re doing to yourself and just let other people help you.
Gah, this is just wonderful. You captured so much with so little. Mrphle, I’m just going to sit here and try and make my blanket a Conner!hug.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, Love. <3
Don’t mind me, I just needed to ramble a bit.
Ohmygoshes, Tigris. *checks you for all the tiny scratches and scrapes* Are you okay? Is everything going to be okay?
I know how scary that can be. My mom and I were on the highway once, coming home from violin…
*huggles* I’m fine, Darling. Everything is all right here.
Yeah, all of a sudden there were just walls of rain, even just inching along, and I couldn’t see anything and the wind just kept blasting…and then hail started peppering the car and I should probably see if that hurt anything…
It took me a few hours to recover. I’m all good now but…I was still very much feeling it a couple of hours later. But, it’s fine now. I am, in fact, going to try and channel what I was feeling into my writing. We shall see how that goes…
*cuddles* Thank you for the love, Darling.