#Look at these freakin bats

[nursewhatsherface]

Completed the crosstitch I started from when we were snowed in last week.

[skarmoree]

I won’t be who he is (I will be who he is)

testing smth bc I think tumblr nuked my initial post of this so if you saw it twice no you didn’t

pls listen to drivers seat by madds buckley and experience batboys brainrot. gif vers:

[othmeralia]

Look! It's freakin' bats. I love Halloween.

Image from: A philosophical account of the works of nature (1721) by Richard Bradley

[realjem-art]

been thinkin about delilah bat form again recently so i FINALLY drew it. teehee

[foldingfittedsheets]

FFS’ Guide to Mattresses:

The following is a non-comprehensive list of questions I get asked a lot and is hopefully a good resource for anyone looking for a new mattress. I am not a scientist. I just sell beds. All bed knowledge is centered in the US, my apologies to international folks.

If this guide proves helpful you can consider popping a tip over on my Ko-fi to say thanks!

What’s the first step?

Well, first thing is gonna seem kind’ve obvious but a lot of people get mattresses secondhand and don’t think about it. Determine the feel you like! There’s no reason to sleep on a hard bed unless you like it, it’s not any better for your back. The three standard feels are firm, medium, and soft. Soft is called plush for stupid reasons. So find out which you like! It’ll narrow down what you look at, and save you time.

When trying out mattresses, use an A-B method. Do not compare every bed. Compare two at a time, otherwise you end up a confused mess. Pick one between the two that you like better, then put that one up against the next choice.

When you eliminate a bed it’s dead to you. Forget it. It was not as good as your new favorite and does not deserve to be remembered. If you cannot pick between two you will be tempted to try a third- this is the devil talking. A third will just make your life harder. If you truly can’t pick between beds that are comparable and they both feel nice after feeling your feelings then pick the cheaper one.

Lastly, mattresses are a huge example of “you get what you pay for”. Investing will pay off. Don’t get sticker shocked, budget what you can but know that mattresses can be freakin expensive. If you go into a store and see $5000 price tags, don’t worry, that’s not all they carry, but focus on the feel of the bed at first rather than price tag.

If you find one you love but it’s too much, the salesperson will know a comparable roll down or will usually try to help you get a deal. If you can admit, “I like this but it’s too much” they’ll work with you to find a solution.

What firmness is best?

This varies person to person but firm beds are not necessarily better for your body. Really. There’s two parts to a good mattress: support and comfort. Support goes underneath and is generally springs or incredibly dense foam. If a bed has good support, you can get away with lots of comfort.

The comfort layer exists to be gentle on your joints and pressure points. People who sleep on their side really need this comfort layer. Without this your shoulders and hips can’t circulate blood and you’ll end up tossing and turning every time your arm starts to fall asleep.

Back in the 1950’s when interconnected coils were the only thing on the market it made sense that you needed them to be firm, otherwise you’d get no back support. But nowadays coils are individually free standing, they do a much better job supporting bodies and bonus, they don’t have to be rock hard.

Most people should get somewhere around a medium bed rather than super firm or super soft but it depends on the persons preferences as all three can be good for you.

How can I tell if a bed has good support?

I’m so glad you asked. You lay on it. There’s a natural curve to the human spine. Lay first on your back. The arch in your lower back, that’s your lumbar. A good bed will push up and fill that area. If your muscles are trying to maintain that arch all night without help it will cause back pain and tossing. The more a bed fills your lumbar the better you can sleep.

Next, lay on your side. You’ll want to focus on your shoulders and hips. Good support on your back is great, but a mattress should have enough squish not to pinch off circulation. Lay for at least five minutes on your side unless you hate it right off the bat, I’m not saying every bed needs this in depth just the one you’re seriously considering. If you feel like you already need to roll over it’s too hard, go softer.

Should I get a topper?

A thousand times no. Toppers are used as a wide ranging bandaid from “there’s a hole in my bed” to “my back hurts”. Commercially available foams in toppers are significantly worse than the foams found in beds. They break down faster and sleep hotter than what they make mattresses with.

The only scenario in which you need a topper is if you’re stuck with a bed that’s too firm for you and you need it a little softer. That’s it. It can make your bed a little softer. It cannot fill holes or fix a bed with bad support. Generally aim to be over $200+ or the topper will break down ridiculously fast and be super hot to sleep on.

What do I do if there’s a divot in my bed?

First off, waterproof protectors can help avoid this problem, so take your bed divot as a life lesson and use a protector on all beds going forward. Our sweat and humidity breaks down foam like nobodies business, causing permanent damage.

So you have a divot, what now? Depends how entrenched it is. When beds get slept on every night for years the foam where a body lays compresses down, and the foam around it stays untouched. You’ll naturally start sinking. But you can get up and walk or crawl along all the foam that isn’t get slept on. If your divot is years deep it may be beyond saving but it’s worth a shot.

You can also rotate beds head to foot every six months and switch the side you and your partner sleep on or sleep all over the bed if you’re alone in it.

If the bed is over ten years old thank it for its service and get a new bed.

When should I get a new bed?

It’s worth checking your sleep quality at ten years into a mattress. The average life expectancy of a bed is 7-9 years. Not because the bed gave out necessarily but because human bodies change. We gain and lose weight, suffer injuries and age. A bed that worked for us eight years ago might not be what we need anymore. So just general age check is good. This is subject to the kind of mattress, bed in a boxes average 3-4 years of comfort so check in sooner.

But additionally: if your bed has a deep body trench where you’ve been sleeping, or if you’re waking up achey or in pain. There’s health problems that can reduce your sleep but a lot of people never suspect their mattress is sabotaging their rest, so keep it in mind.

How do I clean my bed?

Oh boy. You don’t. This goes back to water proof protectors. Your bed is not something you can pop in the wash. But it is something you will sweat and live in for upwards of ten years. Dust mites, dead skin cells, dust mite corpses, dust mite feces, allergens, skin oils. All those things will seep into the bed over time and spoiler alert it’s not great to breathe it in every night.

Sheets only catch a fraction of it, so a waterproof protector keeps the bed safe from your sweat breaking it down, but it keeps you safe from all the things that can build up in a mattress.

If you must clean a mattress I recommend a professional steaming service rather than trying to do it on your own but take this going forward: always protect your bed.

When should I get a new pillow?

Does your pillow have a waterproof protector on it? If no the answer is probably “right now”. Doctors recommend keeping a pillow no more than two years. This is because they’ll lose support and get yucky gross over those two years. If you get a memory foam pillow and get a protector on it they can last way longer. My oldest pillow was around seven years old.

Cheap polyfill pillows you buy at Target or Walmart are really only going to last three months before they wear out. If you are using more then one pillow at night you need a new pillow. Every time you have to wake up and adjust the multiple pillows you’re losing sleep.

Memory foam pillows can be more expensive but will last exponentially longer so save up and spend $50+ on a pillow you’ll actually get to use for a long time rather than $10 on one that will give you a few months of comfort.

What do I look for in a good pillow?

A good pillow is an extension of your spinal support. It should keep your neck aligned with your spine. Ideally, you are laying on a bed to try out a pillows height. It should match the width of your shoulder.

Most mattress stores can fit you for a pillow, but you can also bring a buddy to check your spinal alignment is straight. Side sleeping is most critical to get the height right. Back sleeping you just don’t want it too tall to force your chin down, and stomach you want it low enough not to push your neck up.

I replaced my pillow, now what?

Okay so now you might curse my name for a few days. Bodies are creatures of habit and hate change. Your neck might be in agony on the old pillow but it's familiar agony. So when you boot that sucker to the curb don't throw it out right away. As if I'd ever actually throw away a pillow when I could just hoard it forever.

Start each night on your new pillow. If you wake up in pain, switch back to the old one. Each night you should be able to stay on the new pillow longer and longer until your neck is finally happy. If the new pillow is consistently an issue after a week or more it may be too tall/low for you, unfortunately.

If I’m sleeping well do I really need to replace it (beds/pillows)?

Are you really sleeping well? Replacing beds or pillows is inherently stressful and a lot of peoples happy place is their bed. It’s hard to give up aspects of that cozy zone. If you’re really truly sleeping well no one is gonna make you change.

But generally if you find yourself asking this question you may be trying to convince yourself that things are good enough and ignoring that they could be much better.

Get a sleep tracker if some kind. Let it run for a week or two to see how much you’re tossing and waking up. If it’s a lot and your bed/pillow are old, it’s a good bed they’ve served their time.

If you ever wake up to readjust pillows (or at any point you’re using more than one pillow or mattress) then yes. You need a new one.

Good sleep is the result of the least disruptions. Anything you need to adjust in the middle of the night deserves a hard look and a boot to the curb.

Why shouldn’t I have my mattress flat on the floor?

Mold. Mold mold mold. Remember when I talked about how human bodies are humid? We put out a ridiculous amount of moisture as we sleep from exhalations to sweat. That builds up in the sponge under you and then your body heat maintains the ideal temperature to grow all sorts of nastiness.

You would not believe the amount of molded out beds I’ve seen. Even in the most arid areas, mold. It’s not worth it. Do not leave your bed on the floor. There’s like 2” frames if you like a low bed. If you must have your bed on the floor tip it up against a wall to ventilate every day. Mold will not wait for an invitation.

Japanese futons get brought up a lot here and first off- they get moved every night and washed regularly. Then left to ventilate. They understand that if they left it there it would mold.

Why do I sleep in X position?

Generally your body really wants your spine to curve in the right ways. Sleeping on your back would be ideal if the bed gave you everything you needed but most beds struggle to fill the lumbar. So when your muscles can’t hold your lumbar curve and want a break you roll onto your side.

Stomach sleepers are a case of back muscles fully declaring that nothing can support them and opting to invert rather than deal with poor support. It’s fully the worst sleeping position.

Before I sold beds I was almost 100% stomach sleeper due to scoliosis and back pain. Sometimes side. When I got my new bed I switched to only side and occasionally even back, which astonished me. As my bed has become less what I need I’ve reverted to occasional stomach bouts and less back sleeping.

Why don’t you like bed in a box?

Let me count the ways.

Box beds are the fast fashion of the bed world. They essentially corrupt the support part of the bed equation in order to get a product that can feasibly roll up and be compressed down. The foams are all lower density than they should be and give out quicker. The coils are significantly less steel.

The world cried out for an inexpensive bed and companies responded by giving you significantly less bed per dollar. They often use fiberglass as their flame retardant a requirement for all beds and there’s many testimonials about how poorly that’s gone for people.

But now the greatest sin of boxed beds is that they have the audacity to be marketed at the same price points of traditional beds that don’t roll up.

This robs the consumer of longevity. They’re a rip off. I sell them now at my store and I will do everything in my power to turn folks away onto beds that will actually do their damn job rather than bed mimics.

If you have a bed in a box, please understand that you’ll still get up to five years out of it, and you’re not foolish for buying one. They’ll still always be better than an old broken bed, just look to replace it sooner.

What is a good price point for a new bed?

This is really subjective, but you can get a queen size bed with independent coils for around $600. That’s the lowest good back support I’ve seen. You’ll get ten years out of it and it’ll be a bed.

Stepping into the $1000 mark gives better back support and pressure relief. Up from that they’re going to get more conforming.

Beyond $2000+ you’re generally paying for cooling. It’s the number one thing people want in a new bed but it costs more to give.

Rank Costco, IKEA, or bed in a boxes?

Bed in a box are my lowest tier, for reasons I’ve spoken of at length.

IKEA is next. They’re generally not boxed as of the last time I investigated ikea beds but they’re also just bare bones. Not a lot of either support or comfort, they tend to be around dorm quality.

Costco is a bit of a cheat here. See, they’re a wholesaler but mattresses aren’t something that overstocks- they’re made to order. Costco still wanted to offer a cheap option. So Costco gets beds made to order for really cheap. Now how can Costco offer it so much cheaper? By putting roughly 1/3 less stuff in it by category.

I had a spreadsheet laid out at one point to compare a sealy I carried against what looked like a comparable Costco bed. Every single component was shaved down. Each layer of foam, each coil, they all were about 1/3 less material than our better bed.

Now of course Costco sells boxed bed. So a non-boxed Costco bed is still better than an old broken bed and Costco will basically always take it back which is why they score higher than others but you’re still only going to get about three to five years out of it.

Do I really need a new boxspring? My old one is fine!

Is it really actually 100% fine? Is it just as old as the mattress? Are you willing to gamble the price of the new bed on the existing structural integrity? It’s been load bearing for the lifespan of a bed and the amount of boxes that are actually good to continue service are few and far between.

A few reasons to get new boxes: new beds are made much more floppy than old style to accommodate adjusting on adjustable bases. Old boxes may not offer adequate support for a new bed. Ideally what’s going under a new mattress is solid. No gaps. If you have slats it’s still ultimately better to put a bunkie board under the mattress rather than sitting it right on the slats. Also mattress manufacturers won’t warranty a bed that is on old boxes or improper support.

Adjustable bases are a wonderful replacement for box springs, bunkie boards should go over slats greater that 2” apart, and try to avoid frames that leave big open spaces under the bed.

If this guide was helpful you can consider popping a tip over on my Ko-fi to say thanks!

[estrellami-1]

Ten Minutes

Didn’t love this when I first wrote it. Left it in my drafts for a LONG freakin’ time. Found it again and no longer care, so here yall go; have fun! Probably not a part 2 to this one.

Steve takes a breath, then another, as he waits for the line to connect. He grits his teeth, feeling eyes on him. He does his best to ignore them.

“Munson residence, if you’re calling about the murders I’ve been absolved of, try going to hell instead.”

“I need you to pick me up.”

A pause. “Stevie?”

Steve takes another breath. Tries to unclench his jaw. “Please.”

“Yeah, of course, I’ll be right there- what-”

“My parents are in town.”

Another pause. “I’ll be there in ten. Try not to kill them.”

Steve laughs humorlessly. “Just hurry.”

“Ten minutes,” Eddie says, and hangs up.

Steve sighs, places the phone in its socket, and turns back to face his parents.

His mother is narrowing her eyes at him. “Who was that?”

“A friend,” he says lightly.

“Who, that Hagan boy?” His father scoffs.

“No. Not Tommy. I haven’t spoken to him in years.”

“Oh, Steve,” his mother tuts. “Always so dramatic. We’ve not even been gone a year-”

Steve laughs. It sounds hollow. “Try four years,” he informs her. “And three concussions. Did you hear about the mall two years ago? Or the boy who went missing four years ago?” He shakes his head when his mother looks at him blankly. “That’s what I thought.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” his father snaps. “And don’t you dare speak to your mother in that tone again, Steven. You’re still a child and I won’t hesitate to reprimand you as such.”

“I’m twenty,” Steve says evenly. “I’ll be twenty-one in five months.” He crosses his arms. “The last time you saw me, I was a freshman in high school. I’ve graduated. I found jobs. Lost some friends and made some better ones.”

“And what of that girl you were dancing around?” His mother asks. “Karen’s daughter?”

“We’re friends,” he says shortly, then moves through the kitchen, to the stairs. “Excuse me.”

“No,” his father says. “You’re not excused. Where do you think you’re going?”

Steve turns, one hand on the bannister, to look at the man who had terrified him the last time he’d seen him. It’s funny what interdimensional threats will do. “To pack a bag. I’m not going to stay here while you are.”

“And if I were to say we’re staying for good?”

Steve laughs. “Dad, you’ve said that before. Multiple times, actually. Those words mean nothing to me anymore.”

“And where are you planning on staying?” His mother asks. “Honestly, Steven, I thought we raised you to make better decisions than this.”

“Oh, I see. So it was raising me when I woke up at nine years old to discover you’d left and I’d have to find my own way to school. Then a week later when I had to ride my bike to the store to buy groceries. At eleven, when I looked the school counselor in the eye and said you’d be back soon. I had to go to my own parent-teacher conferences. At fifteen, trying to figure out high school classes. At seventeen when I got my first concussion. At eighteen when I signed my first legally-binding NDA. You hadn’t abandoned me. You were raising me.” He sighs, shakes his head. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

He makes his way up to his room and packs as much as he can. Clothes. Vinyls. The box of cash under the loose floorboard. Then into the bathroom. Toothbrush, deodorant, even his shampoo. Doubles back into his room to grab a bracelet off his nightstand; one El made him.

He looks around, grabs the nail bat, and makes his way downstairs. His mother gasps when she sees him. “What on earth is that?”

He looks at the bat. Adjusts his grip, twirls it around. “An NDA.”

The doorbell rings. Steve grabs his bags and moves towards it. “If you walk out that door, you’ll never walk back in.”

“Fine by me,” Steve says. He grabs his keys, tosses the house key at his father, and pockets the rest.

He opens the door and grins at Eddie, who’s looking at him worriedly. “Hey, Eds. Ready to go?”

Eddie blinks. “Um. Sure? Are you okay?”

“Sure,” Steve shrugs. “I’m getting kicked out. If you don’t want to take me I’ll just go bug Robin. It’ll only be for a little while, though, just until I find a better job and an apartment or something.”

“Like hell Wayne’s gonna miss this chance,” Eddie grins. “You know you’re his favorite.”

Steve smiles back, tosses his things into the back of Eddie’s van. “I hoped you were gonna say that.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

[sanguineterrain]

Hello! I recently found your blog and bruh I'M SMITTEN by your works.

Would it be alright if I requested Jason Todd x gn reader (also vigilante but only works on small cases and in safer places... Jason wouldn't let them anywhere else after a heavy injury they sustained in the past)...

Maybe they're searching for clues in one of the alleys and reader finds a baby there and takes it home (or maybe they fall upon a tired-looking woman throwing her baby over the bridge, reader manages to catch it but when they get back up the woman is gone)? Just overall how would Jason react to his partner finding a kid and bringing it home and what would happen after.

I made myself laugh bc I thought Jason would be like "good thing you went home and not to a bat cave, can't handle another sibling, the last one is already a living hell.

And I wanted to ask if it would be alright if I requested more than just one thing? Completely fine if not.

❤️❤️❤️

This is a super cute prompt!! Thanks for sending it in. And yes feel free to send more than one request 💓

Jason Todd x gn!reader. Abandoned baby, established relationship, Jason being a cutie patootie.

****

You find the baby in a grocery store basket stuffed with blankets behind a Walmart.

She's a tiny thing, with fat cheeks and a permanent wrinkle between her brow. She's frighteningly quiet.

You take her home.

Home has become synonymous with Jason's apartment. At some point, it just made more sense for you to move in long-term. Jason had gingerly brought it up to you one night and kissed you hard when you'd said yes.

You pick up some formula on the way home and a few other things. The baby starts to cry after a bit, to your relief, and after feeding and changing her, you sway her until she falls asleep.

You're content to hold her until you get a crib. You fully intend to do so.

You hear the first lock turn, then the second, then the third. There's no worry that Jason will wake the baby; he always enters a building like he's casing it.

You have the TV turned down low, channel switched to some late-night sitcom. Jason comes in and closes the door with his foot. He takes off his helmet, revealing his messy curls. You smile.

"Hey, Jaybird," you say.

Jason glances at you as he walks to the bedroom, unzipping his vest as he goes. He grins tiredly.

"Hey, sweetheart. Hello, baby."

You watch him disappear into the bedroom. The baby is still fast asleep. You adjust your legs to get more comfortable in the chair.

Jason backs out of the room a moment later, gear still on. His vest is half-unzipped.

"That's a baby," he says.

You nod. "Yep."

Jason pulls a face like he's doing calculus in his head. "Did—do we have a... did I...?"

"How would that even work, Jason?"

"Look, there's many ways that can happen! Y'know how many freakin' clones are in this city? My freakazoid brother could get you a genetically engineered baby in twelve hours."

"She is an organically produced baby not related to either of us. Okay?"

"Oh. Sure, yeah." Jason starts to turn, then comes back. "Wait, no, I still have questions. Why do you have a baby?"

"I found her."

Jason squints at you, then at the baby. "You found her."

"Uh-huh."

"I don't think that'll hold up in court, sweets."

"Relax, Jason. I'm ninety-nine percent sure she was abandoned. I found her behind a Walmart. I know I could've dropped her at the hospital, but I just..." You look down at her sleeping face. "She's just so little. And she needs human contact. Nurses are already overworked as it is. What harm is in taking her home?"

"Yeah, y'know what that is? A siren song. Pretty soon, you'll be fitting her for a domino mask and dressing her like a traffic light."

You roll your eyes. "Don't be silly. I wouldn't dare try to take Damian's title. Plus, traffic light color palettes are so outdated."

Jason pouts. "Are not."

You carefully stand, baby in your arms, and walk over to peck Jason on his cheek.

"Are too. Wanna hold her?"

Jason looks at her like she's a bomb. "I dunno. I might... what if I... hurt her?"

You frown. "You wouldn't hurt her, Jaybird."

"I might hold her wrong or make her cry, and then I'll have to throw myself off the roof."

"You are such a drama king. She's sleeping like a log. You won't wake her unless you scream in her ear."

Before Jason can reply, you're unloading her into his arms. He jumps into action, arms and hands awkward but trying. You smile gently.

"Put her head in the crook of your elbow. Yeah, good. Support her butt. Both arms. Yeah, good! Good job, honey."

You pat his arm. Jason looks spooked for a second, then seems to relax when she doesn't stir. She's cradled in his arms like she was made to fit there.

"Isn't she so cute?" you whisper.

"She is really cute. So small. God." He watches her for a moment, mouth downturned. "I was a small baby too."

"I bet you were a cute baby," you say, tucking a curl behind Jason's ear.

"Oh, sure. People came from all over the world to have a gander at the cutest baby on the planet. Looks like she's taken my title."

Jason starts to sway lightly, holding her like she's gold. You feel your face soften.

He must feel your eyes on him, because he looks up after a moment like he's expecting you to correct his posture. "What?"

You shake your head. "Nothing. Just... I'm just really in love with you, Jay."

Jason's cheeks turn pink. He bites the inside of his cheek.

"Oh. I'm, uh, really in love with you too."

You kiss him properly for that, and Jason hums into your mouth, then pulls back slightly.

"We can't keep the baby. Y'know that, right? I gotta marry you properly first," Jason says against your lips.

"This is the twenty-first century, buddy. People keep babies all the time, unwed or not."

"Yeah, I know. Still wanna marry you first."

You look down at the baby and give her an air kiss. Then you look up at Jason, putting on the saddest face you can muster. He sighs.

"Well," he says, gently touching her fingers. "Maybe we can keep her for a little while."

[princessbrunette]

Innocent reader who’s never had a high sex drive like at all and then she meets JJ or rafe and struggles to handle the switch up. She’s constantly wet needing them all the time. Clinging to them practically grinding on them in public and she doesn’t know what to do with herself cause she’s never been like this before

-🦜

༄❀*ੈ✩‧₊˚

sometimes just watching jj is enough to set you off. the way he speaks, the way he commands a conversation with his sarcasm and clever argumentation, the way he casually keeps an eye on you at all times— whether that’s by keeping a hand on your waist or glancing at you mid sentence to make sure you’re engaged. it’s true what they say, a girls sex drive can be totally influenced by the person she’s with and the way they treat her!

you don’t realise just how clear you make it when you need him, and it almost snaps you out of your haze when he clocks you each and every time. he’s yapping away, everyone stood outside the chateau drinking and having fun, jj creating a whole debate over something pointless just for entertainment when you move impossibly closer, practically smushing into his side.

“no okay i remember— i remember so freakin’ vividly that john b was the one who came up with it. now i know y’all wanna blame me, cos realistically yeah— only jj maybank could come up with something that stupid but i swear dudes, it was mr jb over there. you know it bro!” the blonde laughs, pointing a finger to the brunette as everyone laughs and chimes in.

you hear them laughing, but you’re kind of zoned out— staring up at your boyfriends profile, hand stroking his back through his tshirt. he glances at you, doing a double take when he sees big doe eyes staring back.

“howdy there.” he smirks, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “you okay? look like you’re bouta ask for something.”

you shrug with a shy smile, practically batting your eyelashes at the blonde.

“hmmm…” you giggle.

“hmm…” he repeats back quietly, a grin on his own. it was like everything else faded to background noise, leaving just the two of you in your own world.

“kinda need you.” you admit bashfully and he blinks, words sinking in.

“you— like need me need me? or…” he gapes, eyes a little wider and hopeful.

“mhm.” you press your lips together, embarrassed. he stares for a second before directing his attention toward the group.

“on that note, we will be heading inside. duty calls. it’s been real.” he faux curtsies, patting you on the back and walking you away back to the chateau.

“gross.” kie shakes her head, the boys bursting into woops and hollers.

“you kids have fun!” john b calls out.

“not too much fun, you’re too young for kids remember that!” pope stresses as you skip alongside the blonde, the two of you giggling as you hurry inside.

༄❀*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[tillxthexearthxstartsxtoxcrumble]

Obsessed with the fight scene between Clarisse, Percy, and the other ares kids during capture the flag. Specifically the moment where Percy grabs the spear and uses it to get the other kids away and then rolls to grab his shield, AND THEN GOES RIGHT BACK TO FIGHTING LIKE A FREAKIN PRO

Like are you KIDDING me? He has been in (1) fight before this and he's improving so much so quickly this kid is insane and I love seeing them show just how powerful Percy is right off the bat. Like yes he is insanely powerful but he is gonna be able to best a group of kids BORN FROM THE GOD OF WAR with so little training. Look at him go.

[escelia]

I took a prompt from @ghostreblogging and ran away with it. I have other parts in progress that I'd be willing to post if you guys are into it. I'm not saying it's good, but I definitely had fun with this and got wild with the next part.

Danny Fenton-Wayne: Big Brother

To say Danny was excited to be a big brother was an understatement. He was so ready to finally be the older one, in a position where he was allowed to be protective but not overbearing. Jazz had trained him well for this. And Damian was just the perfect little brother to him, though he was sure that was weird to everyone else. It was so refreshing to have a sibling that didn't treat him like glass. He reminded him a lot of a smaller, angrier, less tech oriented Skulker. And it was great seeing the others' confused but entertained expressions.

"I will slit your throat while you sleep," Damian had glared at his new big brother. "You are not my big brother!" He insisted. Danny thought it was so cute! Skulker would love him. The other Wayne's had looked mortified as though the comment would scare Danny away. Really, the threat was weak. Slitting Danny's thought wouldn't be nearly as effective as Damian was hoping, and it wasn't even that creative. But Danny was a good big brother, and rough housing was a great way to let off steam and get in exercise, so Danny just laughed and responded,

"You could sure try!"

Damian lunged at him in rage. The kid was fast and efficient; he'd give him that. But Danny had faced things much worse than a 10 year old with a penchant for violence. He dodged and snagged the back of his shirt, scruffing him like an angry kitten.

"Damian! No! Bad!" Tim scolded. "Danny, I would tell you not to take it to heart, but he really will stab you, so please be careful?"

"Stab me? That's adorable!" Damian squirmed in his hold while Danny manhandled him into a hug. This didn't really count as being overbearing if it didn't last too long, right? Besides, with Damian fussing so loudly about it, he was sure this was exactly how Jazz felt when she smothered him. It was amazing. Being a big brother was the best.

He eventually let Damian go and he sped away like Pariah Dark was personally nipping at his heels. No doubt to go plan Danny's demise. He was kind of looking forward to it actually.

~~•○•~~

Dinner that night was eventful. He'd learned that Duke was a meta with an ability that affected his sight. Not that he'd outright said so, but Danny could tell. He also gathered a few inklings about his family being the freakin Bat Brigade? They were all vigilantes, and they thought he was some normal civilian! So was Damian being protective of his family in the face of some stranger? That was understandable. Respectable even. Jazz would have said that he was a newcomer in their space and that he needed to respect that. He wouldn't pry if they didn't want him to. Across the table, his baby brother waved a fork at him menacingly. Danny snickered.

"Damian…" Bruce warned. Dick tutted at him from his seat.

"Sorry about him, Danny. You can just ignore him," Dick assured. Danny found he really liked Dick too, what with his similar penchant for puns.

"Thanks, but I think I can handle him. He's what, 10 years old?"

"I'm clearly 12, you imbecile!" In the next moment, Damian was scrambling across the table embedding his fork into the back of Danny's chair, but Danny was no longer in it. Damian hadn't even seen him move if his stunned blinking was anything to go by.

"Trust me, I would not be good for your diet," Danny joked.

~~•○•~~

Danny had gotten a great idea when several days later Damian rushed him with a whole sword. Even as Phantom, Danny was never familiar with traditional weapons. He'd always wanted to learn, but knew that with Fentons it just wasn't a safe idea. So when Duke came running to reprimand Damian and the child saw an opening, Danny redirected the blade down and out of his hand, offering it back with a question about lessons. Perhaps he could bond with Damian by letting him teach him about his favorite weapon.

Their "training," as Damian put it, was going well. Danny genuinely felt like he was learning a lot from him as well as about him. And even with his ghostly enhanced speed the brat was keeping him on his toes. When Damian nicked him with his blade for the time Danny had been so proud. He knew he wasn't easy to hit.

"Say cheese!" Danny exclaimed, shoving his uninjured cheek up against Damian's for a photo. It had turned out amazing, with Danny pointing to the oozing scratch on his face while Damian scowled at him for enjoying himself.

"Please desist. You're taking all the fun out of trying to kill you." Danny just laughed

~~•○•~~

Damian's new brother was just weird. And apparently Damian was the only one who really knew it. At first he'd thought the fool was underestimating him, but boy was he mistaken. He was a civilian, right? Then why could he not land a hit on Fenton even without the interference of his inferior siblings? The wretched thing was able to snatch him mid air and wrestle him into a hug like it was nothing. He was a professionally trained assassin! This was embarrassing! The others thought Fenton just had decent reflexes and a lack of self preservation instincts, but Damian knew better.

The day Fenton disarmed him quickly went from infuriating to intriguing. His brothers had admonished him for attempting murder again, but Daniel had stood up for him and handed his precious blade back to him, going as far as asking if he was willing to give him lessons. Tt, at least one of his brothers could tell he was a superior warrior. He obliged, eager to show off his skills with a sword. And Daniel wasn't actually bad at it per se, but it was clear he wasn't versed in swordplay. After a few sessions with Daniel, he noticed something odd. Not bad, but odd. The room was always cooler when they sparred, and he found that he didn't often overheat. Daniel was a quick learner and very light on his feet. So light, in fact, that he sometimes seemed to float. And Damien would swear on his grandfather's blade that when Daniel got serious, his eyes would flash a bright, toxic green. Damian was determined to get to the bottom of this, and because he was, in fact, the smartest of the Wayne's, he would do it on his own!

Turns out, he didn't have to try that hard.

Damian woke with a start at the knock on his door. He didn't have patrol so he'd tried to turn in early for the night. Grumbling, he went to see who it was. He swore, if it was Drake and he wasn't sleeping even though he'd been kicked off the schedule for sleep deprivation, he would strangle him. He cracked the door to see glowing green eyes. But Danny didn't seem irrationally angry like Todd did when the Pit Rage consumed him.

"Can I come in please?" Danny pleaded. "I had a nightmare and don't wanna be alone, but the others are out and Tim needs his sleep…"

Damian sighed and opened the door for Danny to come in. He sat at the foot of the bed and curled his knees to his chest.

"I don't know what you expect me to do for you. I'm not some counselor." He closed the door and crossed his arms with an annoyed huff.

"I don't need a counselor, I just need my brother." Danny's tired smile was soft.

"Why? I've been told I don't have a comforting personality." Damain took a seat next to him.

"I don't need to be coddled, I'm not a baby. I really appreciate that you're straightforward and rough toward me. I'm traumatized, but like, I'm not gonna break, ya know?"

"You… like that I'm rude to you?" This had to be the first time anyone had ever said that to him.

"Do you know why I'm here? Why I was taken in?" When Damian shook his head Danny continued. "My parents were always pretty careless when it came to raising my sister and I. Their science always came first. We had to grow up pretty fast. And once you grow up, it sucks to be treated like a kid again. It's what got my sister into psychology, and she was constantly trying to psychoanalyze me. Well, I'd had a lab accident that… changed me. When my parents found out, they vivisected me. Bruce found out and got me out of there, but Jazz was already 18 and in college so she couldn't come with me."

Damian was horrified. Even the League with their harsh rules and cruel nature would never do something like that. Even so, it did explain a lot, and Daniel seemed to know how to handle his trauma. An accident in a lab would definitely explain Daniel's more meta-like features as well. He wondered if his father knew, but figured he didn't because the boy had been very secretive about any abilities he might have gained.

"So to summarize, your parents were atrocious to you and now instead of being coddled or analyzed, you prefer to spend your time with people trying to stab you? I tried to kill you." He pointed out.

"Yea, well so has everyone else in my family at one point or another. It's sort of like a rite of passage and you're the only one that's done it," Danny smirked and nudged Damian. The younger boy could admit he found the humor in that, dark as it may be. "Besides, you get it: not wanting to be underestimated or looked down on just because you're young even though you've been through hell." Damian couldn't deny that. Maybe they were more alike than he had anticipated. Interacting with him didn't grate on his nerves like the others did at least. He sighed.

"So, what now Daniel? We sit in silence until you feel safe enough to go back to your own room?"

"I strongly prefer Danny for reasons I'm not willing to talk about yet, but I get the feeling this is as good as I'm gonna get, huh?"

"Correct."

"Well then, do you mind if I call my dog? He's a good boy, I promise," Danny pleaded.

"I do like the company of animals. I didn't know you had a dog, I haven't seen a new one on the grounds." Danny took this as a go-ahead to summon Cujo.

"I don't take him many places, he can get rowdy and protective sometimes. But I'm positive he'll love you." He let out a sharp whistle and the green ghost puppy phased into the room from under the door. He trotted over to the boys, tongue flopping as he did. He pounced excitedly on Danny before giving Damian a thorough sniff and deeming his presence safe and acceptable. He happily let the boy scratch his belly.

"He's… uh, green. What breed is he?"

"The ghost kind," Danny replied sadly. The implications were heartbreaking. "My accident turned me half-ghost so now I have a ghost puppy," he said as if that explained everything. "You uh, won't tell the others about this, right?"

Damian tilted his head in thought while he scratched Cujo behind the ears. He'd definitely want more details on what exactly Daniel meant by "ghost," but for now, he felt pride at being the one family member Daniel actually felt comfortable talking to. He could lord that over his siblings later.

"We'll, you're no longer in any danger, and your past is none of their business unless you want it to be, so I don't don't see a reason to tell them."

Danny grinned at his little brother. He knew Damian would be his favorite! He already knew he would do anything for him.

[toulousewayne]

🌿🍃Toxic Lover: Pt: II

Nightwing X male!reader with a former team who had become Poison Ivy like meta-human.

Summary:Your a former Titan teammate, you and Dick have unresolved feelings and you become infected with the same toxins and chemicals that turned Poison Ivy into a meta-human.

————-

“They Can Bury Us Deep, But We Always Grow.”

Batman sat perched on the rooftops of Gotham. It was a rainy night, much preferred these nights. Most of the crime was kept to the shadows it made it easier for him.

“Batman,we’ve got a problem,”Oracle’s voice filled his coms. “Fill me in.” He jumped off the building and glided north of his location.

——

A man walks outside of the Stacked Deck Bar, and takes a puff from his cigarette. He walks into the alleyway and takes a swig of his flask.

He rounds the corner to see a shadow figure standing before him.

“It’s the freakin’ bat,” he takes out his pistol but it’s knocked out of his grips my a WingDing. The next thing he knows he’s thrown against a nearby dumpster.

“You murderer.” Nightwing snarled at the man before his feet. He kicked him in the stomach, then picked him up and flung him to the other side of the alley.

“L-look I’m sorry about you friend—it’s wasn’t personal.” He’s met with a powerful shock to the gut.

“AHHH-pplease.”

“That’s enough, honey,”A thin cloud of pink and gold mist surrounded the two men, Y/n emerged be held by tree branches pink petals. “It’s good to see you,Nolan wasn’t it. however, the last time we meet you killed me along with your friends.” Y/n grinned. He sported a new pale green skin tone now, his normal (E/C) eyes were a deep emerald. Leaves and vines woven together to map pants and some wrapped around his forearms and torso.

He lowered himself and walked over to Nightwing placing a hand on his emblem. “You know I should really thing you, you allowed me to be a better version of myself,”

“You’re welcome-“Nightwing kicked him in the gut again.

Y/n crossed his arms across his chest. “Though I could have done without the new color. No matter it’s time you answer my questions.” He waved his hand and Nightwing backed away from the goon. Y/n crouched down and blow from his palm, more of the same pink dust engulfed him squared in the face and almost immediately his grimace morphed into a blank stare.

“Now what I want to know two things. What is the name of the scientist that gave you the order to kill me, and last where is Poison Ivy?”

———

The Batmobile came to a screeching haunt behind several police cruisers. He leaped out and walked past the small crowd held back by officers.

A officer lifted a yellow tape and he entered the crime scene. Gordon stood a foot away from two white sheets, Spoiler and Red Robin stood at the bodies scanning them before joining Batman and the Commissioner.

“They two of the best people on the force,” Gordon puffed after taking a drag from his Pipe.

“Any leads?” Batman turned to the two heroes. Red Robin hand him a zip lock bag with several deep green leaves.

“Posion Ivy, she’s been quiet.” Spoiler folded her arms.

Batman walked past them and removed the sheets to observe the bodies. It’s definitely something Ivy could have done but Batman isn’t so sure. He knows that’s she’s been MIA for months.

He rises his head and looks straight ahead. “Gotham Cemetery.” He mumbles. He stands up and walks towards it.

“Is he himself?” Gordon turns to the two who shrug.

—

Batman enters the cemetery and walks past the stone statues. He moves like a black phantom through out the grounds until he stops in front of what was supposed to be a fresh grave. Red Robin and Spoiler approach and stop themselves.

“What happened?” She questions. Vines and purple flowers grown from the grave and have consumed it. The casket is in the heart of the greenery and is split open. And no body inside.

Batman turned to the two, before worry took over his masked features. “Has anyone spoke to Nightwing tonight?”

“Not since the afternoon, he said he was patrolling the East End tonight.” Red Robin replied.

“You think Y/n did this?” Spoiler looked back at the grave and back to Batman who was practically running towards the entrance.

“Alfred I need to find Nightwing he’s not answering his com links.” The Batmobile came to a roaring stop at the cemetery gates and Batman hopped inside before racing down the street.

“I’m afraid I haven’t been able to locate him Sir. His tracker when down two hours ago.” He sighed.

Batman gripped the steering wheel.”Any last know location.”

“Allow me to check,”Alfred typed a few keys before giving him the last location,”Robinson Park Sir, the Botanical Gardens.” The Batmobile raced and roar onto Pioneer Bridge towards the other part of the city.

——

One man stumbles and falls down a few stairs and coughs. As he runs down a hallway into a warehouse.

“Please have Mercy!” He cries as he ducks behind a crate.

“Mercy,I’ll show you mercy.” A voice boomed in the dark room. The man cowered in fear before he flew back from his hiding spot and was carried up fifty feet in the air. He was wrapped in an oversized vine and was being constrained.

Y/n moved into his view ontop of an another vine and smirked. He had his arm resting on his knee and leaned forward towards the man’s face.

“So sad isn’t it. We take for granted the gifts Mother Nature can offer us,” he plucks a maroon flower from his vine that looks between a cross of a tulip and rose. He twirled the flower and looked back at the man. Before smirking.

“So tell me Wilson, where can I find the scientist?” Before the man could reply Y/n blow on the flower and black particles landed on his face. He started to cough and scream in pain.

“He’s meeting the Boss I don’t know who but he’s meeting him Chinatown. PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!” He screamed in terror before a massive coughing fit and his limbs go limp.

Y/n lowers himself down and allows the vines to drop the body with a loud crack. Nightwing stood a few feet from where the man landed. He stare at him for a while before Y/n came into his view.

“Where are we going?” Y/n placed a kiss to his cheek. Y/n took his leave with Dick in tow.

“To make one more stop.”

——

Batman crashed through the same skyline Nightwing had to find the place abandoned. He took a look around with a flashlight.

He came to a makeshift bed and found the same leaves Red Robin gave him.

He turned on his scanner and turned the leave over. “Alfred identify and breakdown these leaves basic components.”

“Right away Sir. These two leaves have the same trace amount of pheromones. The scanners indicate they are of a stronger concentration. The combination is similar to the lab where Nightwing and is team were a few nights ago.”

Batman turned and looked at the ground. He found a WingDing and a remnant of a sleep dart. The same Nightwing gauntlet. “Nightwing must of found Y/n and tried to stop him.”

Alfred hummed, “Do you think he killed Master Richard.”

Batman kneeled down a traced his finger to find them covered in a green dust. “Unlikely, what happened to him he still cares for Dick.” He stood up and grappled out of the greenhouse. He glides down to the street and gets back into the Batmobile.

“The attack on Y/n in the lab must of caused a biological shock and rewrite his DNA the same way it did Ivy. But what I can figure out is what’s motivate?” He began to drive before another call rang.

“It’s Ms Gordon I’ll patch her through.” Soon the ringing stopped and Barbara’s voice filled the car.

“Batman we found two bodies.”

“Where?”

“One at the Stacked Deck an hour ago Red Hood is on the scene with Bullock. And another at a warehouse at Dixon Docks,Batgirl is there with Robin now.”

“My word, Sir my analysis is completed. There is another drug mixed in that was scanned at the fire. It’s a drug called Tomgenalixe. It’s a substance used in modern day Hallucinogens and can be used to create mind altering effects.”

“Mind Control.” Batman and Oracle reply.

“So Y/n isn’t just killing people for fun, he’s been controlled too.” Oracle took a deep sigh.

Batman gripped the steering wheel.”We need to find them. Alfred can you track Y/n’s pheromones?”

Alfred typed at the Batcomputer. “Sir his tracking is leading to the Diamond District.”

Batman raced back towards the highway. “Oracle take the components of the drugs and chemicals and synthesize and antitoxin. Have someone bring it to me. Alfred, have Red Robin and Spoiler meet me at my location.”

“Working on it, I’ll have Red Hood and Batgirl pick up the antioxins as soon as it ready.” Oracle signed off.

“Sir, when you arrive what will you do?”

Batman didn’t answer as thunder crashed across the night sky.

“I’m going to save them.”

———-

“Where’s my cut?” The scientist hissed at the man in a chair turned away from him.

The man chuckled. “Your cut, you were supposed to bring me a new drug. You burned your research. I can’t get any of that funding back, and now Lex Luthor has questions about fire you caused.” The man stood before as Black Man rises from his seat and the scientist cowers.

“I’m—“ SMACK

“You little runt, you work for me and you’ll get paid when the fuck I say so.” He snarled. He grabbed a wad of cash from his pocket and threw it at him.

“Now get back and figure out the poison, you still have the plant woman in holding?”

“Yes, she’s secure downstairs.” He took the cash. But before he could leave he was kicked square in the jaw and crumbled to the floor.

Black Mask turns to see Nightwing giving his a death stare. “What brings you here?”

The doors burst open with three of his goons with green glowing eyes and Y/n strolling behind them.

“I’m here for a little payback.” Y/n smirked. He outstretched his arm and vines bursts from the floor and tied up Black Mask.

“You crazy bitch I’ll kill you.” Y/n yawned. “Boys take care of him,” he turned to the scientist. “I think you have someone who doesn’t belong to you, don’t worry I’ll kill you when this over just like I did you henchmen.”

“Boss!” The large man who had did most of the damage to Y/n emerged through another door. Nightwing sprang into action and brutal fought him. It didn’t take long before he hit the ground hard.

Y/n crossed the room and stood over the dazed man.

“Remember it’s nothing personal.” Y/n dropped seeds into his gapped open mouth and vines and flower rapidly grew from his mouth and stomach.

“That’s sick.” Black Mask gagged before getting punch by Nightwing.

Y/n nodded and then two armed guards took Black Mask away. The other waiting for them and Nightwing grabbed the Scientist.

“Let’s go.” He barked. Y/n and the other guard followed him. The arrived in a basement that was like a huge underground bunker.

They ventured until the came to a catwalk and bellow was a cell in center with Ivy unconscious.

“Well it seems you’ve severed your purpose.” Y/n turned to the man that uttered the order to kill him and before he could grab him a Batarang nearly took his hand off.

Batman leaped down and glared at the group.”That’s enough, you’ve taken to many lives tonight I won’t let you take more Y/n. This isn’t you.”

Y/n pursed his lips and brief a chuckle. “What do you know about Y/n?” Batman eyed down below and saw Ivy talking almost as a puppet.

“Ivy, you’ve been controlling him from the start.”

Ivy/Y/n chuckled. “I can’t take all the credit you seen when they turned Y/n into this new and improved version of himself. We form a connection, and the more his powers grew—“

“The greater your control became.” Batman finished. Ivy chuckled in her cell.

“He makes a fine successor, does need some weeding but no matter he’ll do fine to kill you.” Y/n caused two large vines to sprout beside Batman who leaped down and landed on his feet. He cartwheel out the way of a shock from Nightwing.

“I know you can hear me, don’t make me have to put down.” Nightwing smirked,”Come and try.” He lunged at Batman and the two attacked and blocked each others moves.

Red Robin and Spoiler crashed the room and took out the guard and Spoiler went after Y/n to jumped onto a moving vine.

“Y/n snap out of it you’re still in there.” She pleaded. Y/n formed another overgrown plant to seat her away like fly. He caused a giant Venus Flytrap to sprout and it held him in place.

“This will be your tomb.” He laughed wickedly.

——

Black Mask stood ontop of the building with rifles at his head.

“Jump.” One order. He moved his leg out to jump before he heard gunfire and the sounds of punches. He nervously turned to see Red Hood and Batgirl.

“I’m saved—“ he was lassoed by Batgirl who tied him to a pipe. Before following Red Hood into the building.

“Hell let me Go!”

—-

Nightwing kicked Batman in the chest sending him stumbling.

Red Robin back flipped out the way of a vine nearly crushing him.

“Give up.” Ivy hissed.

Red Hood and Batgirl arrived. Batgirl grabbed a vine and began to run up it to Y/n and Red Hood leaped down and fired a few rounds at Nightwing which distracted him long enough for Batman to land a punch.

He stagger and when to fight him some more giving Red Hood the chance to fire a dart the hit Nightwing in the neck. He growled before he slowly turned and fell into Batman’s arms going limp.

Batgirl managed to get a clear shot and injected Y/n with large dose. He felt tired fell onto the catwalk, Red Robin check on him before injecting an orange liquid into Y/n arm.

“This will break the connection to Ivy.”

Ivy screamed in pain like a part of her had been stabbed. “You’re going to Arkham.” Batman stood before her and she was about to shout before green mist filled her cell and she collapsed.

“Hey Oracle whip up something for her too.” Batgirl chimed in.

Batman grinned and turned to Nightwing and sighed.

———-

Y/n felt like everything that happened was a fever dream. Killing them men that assaulted him, rising from the dead like an uprooted carrot and his finale fight with the Batfamily.

He sat up with an instant migraine. He rubbed his temples from the bright lights and turned to the side to see a shadow.

“Where am I?” His voice was hoarse and scratchy.

“You’re in Arkham.” Batman sighed and came into the light of the cell.

Y/n took in his surroundings and it was in a cell in Arkham. He was also in hospital gown with a collar around his neck.

“So I’m in jail?” He raised a brow the Dark Knight. Batman took a stance at the foot of the bed.

“Not exactly, what do you remember?” His voice was full of concern and worry. Not the same voice typical of Batman.

Y/n rubbed his temples for a brief movement. “I remember the taxi driver…I vaguely remember two officers and then everything went black. Did I hurt them?”

“They’re dead. Poison Ivy took control over your mind after you transition into a meta-human.”

Y/n felt all the air suck of his lungs. “You’re here because I know you’ll be under careful observation,” he lifted his gaze to the ceiling and Y/n followed. Vents were overhead them.

“This cell is constantly being pumped with an antitoxin that helps with the more advanced powers. It won’t rid them completely but you’ll be in control.” He walked closer to the doors.

“You should be in for a few more days, once that finished I’ll come get you myself. Gordon has already dropped any charges and no one knows Y/n L/N was the new Poison Ivy.”

“Did I hurt him?”

“I don’t know what your—“

“Damnit yes you do. I know I didn’t just kill two people. I hope I can..live with that. But did I hurt him?” Tears formed in the young man’s eyes and streamed down his face.

“No.” Batman whispered.

“Oh.” He wiped his face. “Can I see him?”

“I can’t allow that, you didn’t hurt him but Ivy used your feelings for him to make into your mind-controlled bodyguard. You killed people Y/n…He’s still recovering in the cave. Y/n it may be best to give it time.” Batman exited the cell where Gordon was waiting and the two walked away into the Asylum.

Everything began to flash before Y/n and he flopped back on the uncomfortable cot. Before sleep took him back and he dozed off.

[hearts-hunger]

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: Danny's having a rough day, and sometimes all you need is love and a little magic to make it better. || Companion fic in the Kitkat universe

Pairings: Danny x Reader | Genre: fluff, angst, h/c | Word Count: 3k | Warnings: none!

A/N: Evidently I'm back in my Kitkat era hehe :) I think this is my first time giving them any real angst, but of course it has a happy ending. I hope you like it! ♡

“I saw my baby, trying hard as babe could try — what could I do?” 

You belted the verse into your wooden-spoon microphone, dancing around the kitchen as you waited for the oven to preheat. You had the music cranked up to the highest volume, filling the empty house with Bowie's dulcet tones and funky grooves; it was helping take the edge off being alone on your one-year anniversary, and dancing always put you in a better mood. By the time Danny got back from whatever he'd insisted had to be done today but wouldn't explain, you'd be ready to forgive the sting of hurt and enjoy the rest of your evening with him.

You were just putting the pumpkin pie in the oven when the door opened, and you turned with a bright smile to greet your boyfriend. You didn't know what you'd expected — some flowers, a gift he’d wanted to keep a secret until now, even just a smile — but all you got was a stormy expression and the door closing behind him with a little more force than necessary. 

“Hi, honey!” you said, trying to stay cheerful. You liked welcoming him home to baking treats and fun music and a warm, sun-bright kitchen, and you hoped he liked it too.

“Hi,” he said, his voice distracted and flat. He winced at the loud guitar. “Geez, kitkat, are you trying to make me deaf? Turn that down.”

You hurried to do as he said, looking over at him with a cautious expression. He hadn't been in a great mood when he left, but you'd hoped that running whatever errand he was so concerned about would make him feel better; evidently, he was just as grumpy now as he had been earlier, and you tried not to let it hurt.

“Sorry, Danny,” you said when the music was quieter. “I guess I didn't realize how loud it would be if you just walked in on it.”

He gave a doubtful hum but didn't say anything else, leaving kind of abruptly to go further into the house. Surprised, you followed to see what was wrong.

“Did you get done whatever you went out for?” you asked. 

He went into the bathroom and started rummaging around in the medicine basket.

“Do we have any freakin’ Tylenol in this house?” he asked irritably.

You went in to help him and easily found the bottle he was looking for. When you handed him two pills, he didn't offer any thanks.

“What’s wrong, honey?” you asked. You stepped aside as he elbowed his way to the sink. “You don't feel good?”

He cupped some water in his hand and downed the medicine before he washed his face. “Head’s killing me.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” You reached to brush his hair back from his face. “Do you want something to eat?”

“No, I don't,” he said stiffly. He batted your hand away. “Please don't hover, kitkat. You're stressing me out.”

You drew back, stung, and felt something crinkle up in your heart that would take some ironing out. 

“I didn't mean to,” you said softly. “Will you...” You hesitated to ask for anything, but you'd missed him while he was gone, and you wanted to spend time with him if he wanted to spend time with you. 

He sighed. “Will I what?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Will you come back in the kitchen with me when you're feeling better?”

“Why, so I can get roped into doing the dishes after your little baking extravaganza?”

“No,” you said, feeling an unhappy twist in your chest. “Just to hang out. You don't have to if you don't want to.”

He softened the slightest bit, perhaps a little chastened by your hesitant tone.

“Yeah, maybe,” he said, and it was almost worse than a flat-out no. “Let me get in the door, babe. It's been a long day.”

You held back from saying that you knew what he meant; it had been a long day for you too, waiting for him to come home to celebrate your anniversary. Granted, it wasn't your official dating anniversary — that was still a week or so away, and it was marked on the calendar in his bedroom. But one year ago today, you'd met him at the haunted house he worked at, and you wanted to celebrate the day you'd been rescued by a big guy in a werewolf costume and fallen head over heels for him.

You supposed you couldn’t hold it against him that he didn't remember the exact day you'd met. But even if it had been a regular day, his uncharacteristically moody and irritable homecoming was weighing on you. It made you feel funny, all sad and nervous and on edge, and you wished he'd just talk to you instead of merely inflicting his dark mood on you.

“Okay,” you said in a small voice, ever the peacekeeper. That wasn't a bad trait necessarily, but it sometimes led to you bottling up your thoughts and feelings instead of expressing them. You weren't sure now was the best time to tell him how you felt, though. A needy girlfriend seemed like it might be the last straw for his tenuous grip on civility.

You went back to the kitchen and turned off the music altogether, your cheerful, dancing mood pretty much killed by Danny’s gruffness. You started to clean up after your “little baking extravaganza”, as he'd called it with less affection and more irritation than you would have liked. You'd spent the better part of the afternoon crafting a beautiful, perfect pumpkin pie — his favorite — and had made a jack o’ lantern face out of dough to go on the top. Your heart sank as you wondered if he'd even want to try it when it was done baking.

He went out to the porch, talking on the phone about something that was evidently less than pleasant. You couldn't make out what he was saying, but from the tone of his voice and the glimpses of his body language you got through the window above the sink, you could tell he was upset about something. You determined to be kinder and more gentle to him when he came in, hoping you could soothe his worries and coax him into talking about whatever was bothering him.

You were finishing up the dishes when he came back inside, and you offered him a smile. You intended to ask him if the medicine was kicking in, but he spoke before you could say anything.

“Something’s burning,” he said.

You blinked. “What?”

He nodded to the oven. “Whatever you're making. It smells like it's burning.”

With a jolt, you realized he was right; the timer had gone off and you hadn't realized it, and now there was a distinctly burnt smell permeating the kitchen. You whirled to open the oven and take the pie out, haphazardly grabbing a dish towel to cover your hands.

“Careful, kitkat,” he warned. “You don't — ”

In your haste, you didn't have time to process his warning before your uncovered ring and pinky finger met the hot pan. With a yelp of pain, you snatched your hand back and jerked the pan until it listed off the rack and tilted sideways to land lopsidedly between the rack and the oven door.

“Oh! Oh no!” You watched, distraught, as the jack o’ lantern face started a slow, precarious slant off the perfect placement you'd given it. You reached to right the pan, feeling the sting of tears at the foolishness of your blunder and the pain in your fingers, but Danny quickly eased you aside and took the dish towel from you.

“Let me get it, honey,” he said, and for the first time, his voice was kind, albeit a little harried. “Run some water over your hand.”

You did as he said, watching as he got the pie out of the oven and set it on the stovetop. He closed the oven and turned it off, tossing the dish towel over his shoulder as he crossed to you.

“Let me see,” he said gently, taking your hand in his and pulling it away from the water for a moment. You winced as the pain came back more sharply and tried not to cry as he cradled your hand in his.

“Alright,” he soothed, turning your hand to see your burned fingers better. “It doesn't look too bad. Keep it under the water for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

Alone again in the kitchen, you tried to collect yourself; you glanced over at the pie and saw that it was a burnt, lopsided mess when you'd taken such care for it to be perfect for him. You swallowed, feeling tears stack up in your throat.

When he came back, he stood with his hip leaned against the counter as he dried your hand, smoothed Vaseline over your tender fingertips, and put bandaids on both fingers. You still stood at a distance, even as he was holding your hand, fearing another irritated scolding for your absent-mindedness.

“How's that?” he asked, looking up at your from under his dark lashes. He didn't seem angry any more, and you were so relieved at it that you suddenly couldn't stop the tears that spilled over.

His brow crinkled. “Hey, hey,” he said, worried and gentle. “Does it hurt that bad, honey?”

“No,” you said honestly, quickly trying to brush the tears from your face. He did it for you, soft and patient and understanding.

“Why’re you crying, then?” he asked.

You drew a choppy breath, trying to stop. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn't mean you had to apologize,” he said kindly. “You're not in trouble, kitkat. I just wanted to know what was wrong. Did it scare you?”

“Well, a little,” you admitted. “But I’m just...” 

You were embarrassed by the stupid way you’d hurt yourself; you’d been sad and uneasy at Danny’s mood and now felt a little overwhelmed with emotion at his apology and the much-needed tenderness and affection that came with it.

“I’m glad you're not angry any more,” you said pitifully.

He softened, chagrined and understanding. “Oh.”

“You're not, are you?” you asked.

“No.” His big, strong frame seemed tense with discomfort. “I'm not angry any more, kitkat.”

“I’m sorry if I made it worse,” you said sincerely. “I should have let you come in without asking a million questions and having the music on so loud.”

He gently squeezed your hand. “No, honey. It wasn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. I was the one who was out of line.”

He ran his thumb over your palm in a gesture of tenderness. 

“I’m really sorry for how I spoke to you, kitkat,” he said gently. “I was frustrated, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Please forgive me.”

“Of course I forgive you,” you said, your voice a little wobbly. “I just wish... Well, I was trying to make it nice, since...”

He brushed more tears from your face. “Since what, honey?”

You looked up at him, your expression crumpling. “Since it's our anniversary.”

His eyes widened. “No it's not,” he said, obviously hoping it wasn't true. “It’s next week, isn't it?”

“Yeah, I mean, the real one,” you said weakly. “But today's the day we met.”

He softened and gave a regretful sigh, pulling you close.

“Oh,” he said. “I see. I didn't remember, kitkat. I’m sorry.”

You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face against his chest, treats falling in earnest now. You weren't exactly sure what you were crying about, but you were sure you were happy to have him home and not so angry any more.

“I made a real mess here, didn't I?” he said.

“It’s okay,” you said, your voice choppy and unconvincing even though it was true. “You didn't know.”

“Yeah, but I still shouldn't have acted like I did. I want it to be a nice thing to have me come home, not a burden.”

You hugged him tighter. “It's not. You're never a burden, Danny. I love you. Even when you come home grumpy.”

You felt his gratitude and relief in the way he held you.

“I love you too, kitkat.” His voice was a little rough around the edges. “Thank you for loving me like you do. I don't deserve you.”

You stayed that way for a long moment, resting in each other, letting the worries of the day fade in the peace of being with the person you loved and trusted more than anyone else.

“I wanted to surprise you,” you said softly. “I made pumpkin pie for you. Your favorite.”

He rested his cheek on the top of your head and hugged you tight. “It is my favorite,” he agreed. “That was really sweet of you, honey. Thank you for thinking of me.”

“But now it’s ruined,” you said miserably, pulling back to swipe a hand over your cheeks and look at the charred, cockamamie gift you'd wanted to give him. “I’m sorry, Danny. It's not much of a surprise.”

He chuckled, and the sound was warm and comforting. “It’s not ruined, kitkat. It's... unique. And I see the vision. You think I won't still eat every bite of it?”

“Even the burnt parts?”

“Well, maybe we can cut those off. Looks like it's only the top of the crust.” He drew you over to look at it with him, and his smile was very gentle and forgiving.

“I like the jack o’ lantern face,” he said. “You’re so clever and creative, kitkat. I think it's a great surprise. I love it.”

You looked up at him. “Yeah?”

He kissed your nose. “Yeah. Let me put on some coffee to go with it. I'll even let you have a slice.”

You gave a watery laugh. “Thanks. That's nice of you.”

He helped you finish cleaning the kitchen, and the acrid smell of burnt pie crust was washed out with the comforting aroma of coffee as it brewed. You went out on the porch to sit in the chilly evening air with your plates piled high with the not-burnt parts of your pie, and you enjoyed how Danny dug in with gusto, complimenting your baking all the while.

You snuggled closer to him on the porch swing, cradling your steam-wreathed mug, careful of your sore fingers. 

“How’s your beautiful little hand, my dear?” he teased gently, holding his hand out for you to place your hand in.

“Better,” you said. Your heart tilted when he kissed your fingertips. “Thank you for taking care of me, Danny.”

He hummed. “You’re welcome, kitkat. It was the least I could do after being so ugly to you. I know I said it before, but I'm sorry for acting like that. You don't deserve for me to talk to you that way.”

You brushed your fingers over his cheek. “Thank you. Would you mind telling me why you were so frustrated? I want to help if I can.”

He sighed, and his expression scrunched a little with worry and weariness.

“Money’s a little tight,” he said after a long moment. “The gig we booked for this weekend fell through.”

“Oh, Dan, I’m sorry,” you said sincerely. You knew that the paycheck would have been nice, and a canceled show was never what an aspiring band wanted to deal with. You knew he and the boys would have liked to play the gig anyway, even if they didn't make any money off of it.

“Was that what you were on the phone about?” you asked.

He nodded. “Josh told me this morning, and he tried to figure out a new date with the guy we booked with, but he told me when I was out here earlier that he wouldn't reschedule.” He shook his head. “Josh is pissed. I guess I am too. It sucks.”

“Yeah,” you said gently. “I’m sorry, honey. Can I help? Financially, I mean?”

A dull, uncomfortable blush darkened his face. “I don't want to ask you for money, kitkat.”

“I know,” you said kindly. “But I'm happy to help. I practically live here anyway. I can pitch in with rent or groceries or something.”

He looked at you with such humility and gratitude that you thought your heart would break.

“Thanks, honey,” he said. His voice was a little hoarse. “That’s very kind of you.”

You gave him a gentle smile. “You’re welcome, Danny. I love you. Let me help you.” You didn't make a ton of money either, but you'd gladly do whatever you could to help your boyfriend and his brothers that were as good as family to you.

He ran a hand over his face. “I was trying to get you a present, earlier,” he said. “For our anniversary.” He gave you a teasing smile. “Our real one.”

You laughed. “Oh yeah?”

“That’s why I was gone all day,” he agreed. “But it...” His jaw worked uncomfortably. “It ended up being pretty expensive. More than I budgeted for. So that made me feel like a schmuck.”

You took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I don't need anything to know you love me, Danny. But thank you for thinking of me.”

He looked over at you. “Do you wanna know what it was? Since it's the thought that counts, I hope?”

You smiled. “It is the thought that counts. And yeah, if you want to tell me.”

“A lady we work with breeds dogs on the side,” he said. “All official, fancy, pedigree labradors. I was gonna get you a puppy, like I talked about. You know. Start our family, or whatever.”

He was bashful as he told you, the embarrassment of having to say no once he'd learned the price obviously still stinging him. But it was such a nice thought, such a sweet present that he'd wanted to get, that just the idea alone was enough of a gift.

“Oh, Danny,” you said sweetly. You kissed his cheek. “That would have been a really good gift. But I'm glad you made a smart financial decision.”

He sighed. “Yeah. Wish I didn't have to make such smart financial decisions all the time.”

You brushed his curls back from his face. “I know, sweetheart. But I admire you for making wise choices for our family of two, and I know I can trust you to make wise choices for our family of three when we finally do get our puppy.”

He brightened then. “We could always get a pound puppy. Some two and a half dollar mutt that needs somebody to love ‘em.”

You smiled. “We could,” you agreed. “Maybe that's what we should do for our anniversary. Our real one.”

He chuckled and drew you close with his arm over your shoulders, pulling you snug against him. 

“I’ll remember next year,” he promised. “This is a good anniversary to celebrate too.”

You kissed under his jaw. “I think so too.”

When the sun set and the chilly air turned cold, you went back inside and started to get dinner on. They boys were working tonight, and since Danny was off, you had the house to yourselves. He still seemed a little down as you cooked together, though he was good company, and you wished there was something you could do to help cheer him up.

“Do you mind if I put some music on?” you asked, not wanting to overstimulate him like you had earlier. “How’s your headache?”

He smiled. “Better, thanks. Crank up the tunes, honey.”

You put your Halloween playlist back on, and when Bowie’s “Magic Dance” came on, you had an idea of something to help loosen Danny up.

You held out your hand. “Dance with me.”

He grinned and took your hand. “As you wish, my love.”

There in the middle of the kitchen, while dinner simmered on the stove, you drew him into a footloose and fancy-free dance of careless steps to the funky tune. You sang along, swinging and twirling and grooving to the music; he mimicked you with much more grace and effortless cool, complimenting your awkward, happy dancing. Both of you danced and jumped along with the song, laughing and crashing into each other with clumsy, carefree movements that brought you together in the joy and comfort and ease you shared.

“Is my dance magic working?” you asked.

He laughed. “I think so, honey. I feel all limbered up.”

He listened to the music attentively for a moment.

“There’s kind of a sexy little guitar riff coming up, if I remember correctly,” he said.

You knew exactly what he was talking about. You tossed your hair and gave him a hooded smile when the riff played, skating your hands over your body. He pinked and gave you a devilish grin.

“Better watch out, kitkat,” he teased. “You’re gonna get yourself in trouble dancing like that.”

You put your arms around his neck. “Put that baby’s spell on me, loverboy.”

He scooped you up and held you in his strong arms, your legs wrapped around his waist. “Don't have to tell me twice, honey.”

You giggled. “What about dinner?”

“Let it burn. I've got a taste for burnt food now.”

You laughed, big and bright and joyful, and held his face as you kissed him deeply.

“I sure do love you, Danny.”

He smiled and looked up at you with nothing short of adoration. “Aw, kitkat. I sure do love you too.”

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[skarmoree]

out of the woodwork

Damian had plans to spend the weekend at Dick's place when Jon finally had some free time to hang out. At seeing how conflicted Damian was at having to choose between his brother and his best friend, Dick invited Jon over to stay for the weekend as well. Everybody else invited themselves.

(How much is too much? Where is the breaking point? When will Dick finally put his foot down?)

rating G // Gen // no warnings apply chapter 1/3 READ ON AO3 HERE

hello! this year I participated in the @batfam-big-bang ! It's my first time doing an event like this, and it's been a lot of fun!

this piece is a whopping 19k all up, split into three chapters. I plan on posting an update every two days :)

thank you SO MUCH to @writergeek for being my beta! You did an amazing job pointing out the parts that didn't quite work and dealing with my atrocious writing habits we were also joined by artist @bamboozled-and-alone , and I can't wait for you to see the incredible work she's done that will be posted alongside ch2! <3

[luminouslywriting]

Hey! Novalis here again with another Winters request lol. This time it's based on that scene in Captain America: The First Avenger (one of my favorite films of all time) where we meet Peggy and she's confidently speaking with this guy who's making fun of her before she decks him in the face. Could we have something based on that where maybe one of the guys messes with the reader like that and ends up punching the guy in the face -> also pairing reader and Winters somehow in this request? Thanks!

Iconic of you to request this!! I would be HAPPY and thrilled to do this for you :) Reminder that my requests are open and I don't mind spam haha!

More under the cut, cut for length, slight sexual harassment/intimidation (not from Winters) mentioned, medical jargon and speak mentioned as well:

-Listen, I've said it once and I'll say it again, Dick Winters is a man who drinks his respect women juice

-So when the head doctor is introducing herself during the training and preparation for D-Day, you tend to listen to her because her instructions could mean the difference between life and death

-For Dick Winters, he's an attentive man who has already struck up a friendship and correspondence with you. And maybe, just maybe, if things go well, he'd like to ask if he can write you and if he can take you out sometime.

-But for right now, he's dutifully staying within the respectful bounds of a workplace relationship and no fraternization

-So there he is, standing at attention and listening to your instructions about how best to tie a tourniquet if there are no medics around (which is really quite useful, especially if something goes wrong with the jumps)

-And someone dares to question what a woman would even know about medical needs

-And he goes on and on about how women aren't meant to serve their country in the same way and how they need to be at home waiting to make babies or be filled up by some man

-So naturally Dick Winters is fuming about the entire thing and flabbergasted at this man's audacity

-And just when he's about to say something, you step up to the bat, ask the man's name, rank, etc.

-Once you have the information, you gracefully punch him in the nose and there's a very satisfying crunch of things. And the thing is?? You're a doctor. You know exactly how much force is needed to break a bone and how much is needed to set it back in place

-So there are the medics, bustling around because WTF??? And you just have them re-set his nose right then and there

-In that moment, Dick Winters has never been more in love in his life and he's got those googly/starry eyes that has Nixon looking at him like he's a freakin' simp or something

-The man is howling all sorts of things

-And you're just, "I outrank you. What are you gonna do? Court martial me? After all of that harassment? I don't think so, buddy."

-Dick Winters decides on the spot that he wants to marry you

-So yes, after the whole training is over, he does in fact, go for it and ask you out :) He also commends the punch and gives a kiss to the forming bruise on your knuckle

-We stan a supportive husband lol

[dejwritesarchived]

❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ( synopsis ) ugly duckling zeke yeager return to campus looking better than ever and he’s back dealing with his biggest academic rival that want what he has.

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — reader discretion is advised: female reader, female anatomy described, her/she pronouns, written with black reader in mind, college au, teacher assistant!zeke, grad student!reader, mean girl!reader, profanity, cumeating, mentions of alcohol drinking, academic rivals trope, zeke and his freakin’ daddy issues, hand job, spit usage, slight exhibitionism, they kinda do it at a party but it’s after the party, corruption kink (on both ends), tbh reader and zeke should just be happy and make out already, if i am 1 out of maybe 30 zeke simps i am okay with that, mentions of other aot characters, is this kinda self indulgent? yes, the marley men just have some flavor to them to me, entry for @poohbea 'once upon a collab' event, art credit

ANOTHER YEAR OF GRAD SCHOOL MEANT ANOTHER YEAR BEING AT THE TOP OF YOUR DEPARTMENT. You were in competition with yourself in academics, fashion, popularity, social status—you name it. You went from student body president during undergrad to the grad student that everyone could lean on when they needed something. That was until he returned to campus. The eldest son of infamous doctor Grisha Yeager—Zeke Yeager. He not only knocked you to number two in your department, but he also snatched your teacher assistant position right from you. Eventually, taking away that excellent bullet point on your resume. 

You felt frustrated that the opportunity even got snatched from your hands in the first place. Of course, the guy with the infamous doctor would get the position before you. You had to figure out how you could get back on top. You could torment him as you did during undergrad. No, that wouldn’t work. The way he was looking now—he wouldn’t fall for your tactic of inviting him out to drink and causing him to miss an exam. Maybe, cause a scandal within his family. His family does always seem to stay in the tabloids. No, that wouldn’t work. Their PR agent would have that buried before you could convince your professor to give you the teacher assistant position. 

“Are you going to this party tonight? Please don’t tell me you’re spending your Friday at home again,” Your friend asked as she tapped her manicured fingers on your kitchen top. “Everyone is going to be at this party, you know?” 

“Why would I want to be around drunk strangers? How does that benefit me at all?” You asked while letting your finger trace alongside the rim of your wine glass.

Your friend was here to convince you to come to this party just by her attire. You were sure she would be zooming to this party immediately after her poor attempt to get you to come out. You always told her not to let you rain on her parade. Go out and have fun; just be safe.

“What if I told you Eren Yeager is hosting it, and it’s at his family’s lovely home?” Your friend leaned over, smiling at you.

“I’m not interested in Eren Yeager. Do I look like one of those sophomores that easily let his man bun distract them on how much of a manwhore he is,” You sipped from your glass before you heard your friend drag out a sigh.

“If one brother is going to be there, obviously the other will be.” Your friend rolls her eyes at your obviously, not-smart thinking. “Perfect opportunity to talk to him to let you have the teacher assistant position. After all, it’s not like he will need it anyway. I’m sure daddy has a job lined up for both of his sons.” 

“I highly doubt he’ll be there. Doesn’t even seem like his scene,” You added. 

“You think he trusts his younger brother to throw a party in one of their family properties alone?”

You thought about it for a second. Hypothetically, this could be a perfect opportunity to convince him to step down from the position. Give him a couple of cups of alcohol and get to batting your eyelashes—this could work. 

“Fine, let me change into something else,” You finished your glass of wine before your friend could let out a squeal of excitement. 

You went into your room to freshen up and get changed. When you stepped out, your friend had some devious grin as her eyes flickered up and down to look at your outfit. “Let’s hope the outfit works in your favor.” She says as she places the wine glasses you guys used in the sink.

“Hope so.” The dress you wore wasn’t too fancy, but it was something that could have anyone doing a double look. You glanced in the full-body mirror in your living room—slowly leaning forward to apply a coat of clear lip gloss. 

The ride to the party was filled with rules; you and your friend always went over. If you were leaving with a guy, let the other know. If you hit your alcohol limit—it’s time to go. Don’t leave without the other without confirmation that you were; that was common sense. As you dawned closer to one of the biggest houses in the gated community, it seemed you could hear the music as you got closer and closer. When you entered the party, it was crowded, from people dancing in the living room to people littering the steps sitting, and talking. Your friend had seen one of her usual semester flings and instantly shot right towards them after letting you know that if you were ready to go—just find her. 

Now you were alone in a sea of people hoping you could clichely bump into the older Yeager sibling. You pushed your way through to find him yourself. Hoping he wasn’t indulging in flirting with someone 

You tried your hardest to avoid anybody that knew you. Each of them gets in the way of why you were here in the first place. You spent the past thirty minutes pretending to be interested in conversations until you eventually entered the kitchen to see the person you were searching for. There he stood up, scrunching up his face at the taste of the mixed drink his younger brother had made. 

“It’s not that bad,” Eren said as he sipped from the red solo cup.

“It’s horrible, but when does alcohol ever taste good?” Zeke questioned as he placed his empty solo cup on the counter.

“Exactly! Everyone is going to love this Yeager juice,” His brother responded before he poured more of the drink into two cups and made his way out of the kitchen. 

Zeke was all alone, sipping alcohol in the kitchen and chatting with his friends. You didn’t even know you caught yourself staring at him and how his biceps flexed in the tight black shirt he wore. Did he get hotter from the last time you saw him? His little internship in France surely must have done wonders for him. Wait, you weren’t here to drool over his attractiveness—focus. 

As you inched further to get something to drink, Zeke's eyes landed on you, and you watched his lips curve into a smirk before he met you near the counter you were near. You were glancing at all the alcohol choices they offered, pretending that you weren’t here for something else. 

“It’s funny that this will be where we bump into each other again.” Zeke interrupted your pretend task of searching for alcohol of your choosing. 

“Couldn’t turn down a Yeager party,” You shrug your shoulders while collecting a bottle and pouring some into the cup. “It was the talk of the campus. Everyone is here.”

“Would have thought you’ll ditch to do some project or something.” Zeke leaned against the counter that was next to you. His head tilts like an innocent puppy attempting to challenge its owner.

“You know me, any project or paper I must do is most likely done already. Come on; we didn’t play hot potato for the top of the class spot for nothing.” You sipped from your cup, peeking up at him. 

“Still the same overachiever, I see.” Zeke poured him some of the drink Eren had made. “Same girl that tormented me.”

“That’s what I’m here for. To apologize; we’ve matured now. I’ve matured now.” You placed your hand on your heart and gave him a sweet smile before that smile disappeared after hearing his snickers. 

“You’re funny; what do you want?” Zeke took another sip of his drink and poured more into his cup once more now that it was empty. 

Your lips gasp upon pretending to be offended. “I can’t just see how you been?” 

“When did you ever care?” Zeke backfired. “Before, during, or after you were the biggest manipulator during undergrad? 

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being a horrible person to you, Zeke.” You gave him a pout. “So please let me have that T.A. position you have.” 

The sound of his laughter caused your eye to twitch in annoyance. His eyes form tears as he hunches over to laugh. “You’re hilarious. I knew you wanted something, and the answer is no. For once, you couldn’t beat me or use some conniving way to beat me. Enjoy the rest of the party, Y/N.” He clinks his red solo cup with yours and talks to his friend Pieck who is searching the fridge for something. 

You inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly. Your nails dig into the palm of your hand before you turn to fill your cup up. You had to think of another way, but you needed to drink for now. You ventured around the property two times, searching for your friend. You had no luck but found yourself in the living room talking to your friend Reiner. You remember being lab partners with him; he was such a sweetheart. He didn’t know how to do the labs, but he was charming. You felt someone staring at you as you laughed at one of his jokes, you felt someone staring at you. To your shock, Zeke's eyes were staring at you as some random girl was talking his head off. You turned around after playfully rolling your eyes at him. 

Hours went by, and people headed home to sleep off the alcohol they consumed or head to the next party. Your friend had gone home with their semester fling after confirming with you that it was okay. You decided to stay back to continue to pester Zeke. He hasn't budged at all with giving you the teacher assistant position—and you weren’t giving up that easily. As you help, throw away the red solo cups that decorated the expensive marble counters. Zeke was collecting the empty alcohol bottles to toss in the recycle bin. The two of you silently cleaned up the kitchen as you could hear Eren and his friends drunkenly messing around in the living room. Zeke knew they weren’t doing any type of cleaning as they told him they were doing.

“You know…” Zeke broke the silence between the two of you. 

“You’re going to let me have the T.A. position?” You interjected as you tossed another cup in the trash. 

“No, but I find your eagerness—quite attractive,” He chuckles, dropping a whiskey bottle in the bin. He walks closely towards you, and you meet him halfway, dragging the black trash back with you. 

Just as you met in the middle of the kitchen where the counter was, he stared at you with his gray-colored eyes trying to read you. He wasn’t sure if you had changed or not since undergrad. “It’s quite comical that you even parted your lips to ask me after the hell you put me through during undergrad.” He grabs the empty red solo cup off the counter and grabs the black trash bag you had.

Being sure to let his fingertips brush against your hand as he takes the bag. He threw the cup in the trash before speaking again, “You were a horrible person. Kinda need you to beg a little more,” he reached by you to grab another liquor bottle.

“I apologized so many times. I don’t understand why you need the position so much.” You snatch the alcohol bottle out of his hand and place it on the counter. His need to ensure the kitchen was clean before his parents returned to their luxury trip distracted you from your goal. “Your daddy will help you find the perfect job when you graduate.” 

You watched as Zeke’s jaw clenched in annoyance, hearing your words. Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion before your lips curve into a smirk. This was your opening. “Oh, that struck a nerve, huh?” Your head tilts as you watch those eyes darken.

You’ve seen that look countless times during undergrad, especially when you caused him to miss a final exam which helped you to have the highest GPA in your department. 

“That’s not true. I work very hard for the positions I have.” He glanced at you, and  now it was him with a devious smirk on his face. “Just like the T.A. position that you want.” 

“You leave for an internship in France for the summer and come back with some balls; that’s what’s fuckin’ comical, actually.” You suck your teeth before stepping back and hopping on the counter. 

You were growing frustrated with not getting what you wanted after years of getting what you wanted—which you didn’t have an infamous surname and an academic medical school building named after your father to do so. It was a bit insulting to you that he was dangling this position in front of you. 

“Don’t tell me you’re giving up already. It’s only one in the morning. You’ve tormented me longer than this.” Zeke went back to cleaning up. “I’m starting to think you may just want to be in my company or something. I must advise you; others wouldn’t mind being in my company and not being a pain in my ass.” He tossed a bag of opened chips in the trash.

“And yet, you’ve declined them all night just to let me pester you.” You muttered under your breath.

“And yet you spent this whole night pestering me, ignoring all the advances thrown at you. You really think Reiner cares about your fuckin’ marketing project?” Zeke backfired as he leaned against the counter opposite where you were sitting. He rubs at the thick blonde beard on his face in a mockingly thinking manner. “Starting to think you may like me.” 

“I would rather gouge my eyeballs out and take the least-rated Professor in our university than ever admit any attraction to you, Zeke Yeager.” You shrugged your shoulders at him, but you also noticed that he had stepped closer once again, not being afraid to invade your space.

You just were trying to figure out if you thought this was a good idea. The sexual tension was there. It was obviously there—you two wouldn’t be going back and forth like an intense tennis game if it wasn’t. You grabbed Zeke’s belt, tugging him closer to fill the gap between your thighs. 

“You’re still that ugly duckling in undergrad that I enjoyed sabotaging to be on top.” You attempted to push him, but his hand caught yours before eventually letting his lips crash upon yours. 

The taste of hard whiskey and Eren’s horrible mixed Yeager juice lingers on your tongue as you’re eagerly tracing it to get a taste of all the liquor Zeke consumed during the night. The scent of a freshly opened pack of cigarettes and a woodsy-scented cologne crawls up your nostrils to cause you to be even more intoxicated. Your grasp on his shirt as if he was going to blow up was a bit funny, considering you were insulting him all night. You wanted more; you needed more. The kiss broke apart, and you tried to utter another degrading thing. The short break from tasting each other allowed Zeke to remove his glasses and place them next to you on the counter—before his lips were back on yours. Shoving his tongue down your throat in a heated makeout session because he would rather have that than hear your nagging about him being undeserving of a position he has already. 

Your hand untangled from the cotton threads of his shirt to travel down to his pants to rub his hardened cock. The bulge was so noticeable you would have thought he was a virgin that just discovered an exclusive OnlyFans account. Zeke breaks the kiss again, his plush lips pecking soft subtle kisses on yours as if he didn’t want the kiss to end. Now those gray hues of his were softened—they didn’t look at you as if he hated your guts. But for pure hunger for you. 

“Want to go upstairs?” Zeke asked; he didn’t budge from towering over you as you were on the counter. He could hear the loud laughter of his younger brother and his friends playing another round of Never Have I Ever. 

You rubbed your lips together before shaking your head. “What’s the fun in that?” You questioned as your hands fiddled to undo his belt. “It’s a bit more exciting when you’re about to get caught by your brother, isn’t it?”

You never saw Zeke’s face turn red so quickly. His cheeks are stained a crimson color as you’re unbuttoning his pants. He watches as you bring your hand up to your mouth to spit it and soon dig into his boxers to massage the tip of his cock. You didn’t want to fully bring his cock out just in case someone walked in, so you brought him closer using the heel of your foot, and your hand slowly guided up and down his shaft. His head fell back in complete bliss as he was poorly attempting not to utter a moan. 

“If you think this is going to….” His body shutters when he feels the pad of your thumb brush against his plump mushroom-shaped tip. “—going to get me to step down from the teacher assistant position, you’re highly mistaken.” He finishes.

You leaned up to place a kiss on the corner of his lips. “At this point, is it really about the damn T.A. position?” You questioned as you continued to palm his cock. This time your hand is pushing his pants down just a bit to give yourself some more room. 

If anyone was to walk in, they could assume that the two of you were just making out—but really, Zeke was desperately thrusting forward for more friction as your hand squeezed around his cock. Broken groans trembled out of Zeke as he prompted his hand on the cabinet just a few inches from your head to hold himself up. “Shit, I’m going to cum.” He utters as your hand slides up and down his cock.  

“I’m going to stop that from happening,” Your teeth bite your lower lip as your hand palms at his thick cock. 

“Mhmm, okay.” Zeke leans in to kiss you again, but you’re quick to lean back teasingly. Continuing the urge to make sure he cums and becomes a bowl of putty right in front of you. 

You’ve adored seeing Zeke get tugged from the temporary bliss of passion. You could sense the heat from his skin and all the color rush to his face. Thick ropes of cum came out so quickly before you could spit out some witty comment. Your hand motions slowed to ensure that he experienced every emotion that came from the fact that you had him in the palm of your hand. Zeke’s chest heaved upward as he tried to regain his composure. His eyes watched as you removed your hands from his box just in time to hear footsteps behind Zeke. Eren walked into the kitchen to grab something from the fridge. 

“I didn’t know anyone else was here,” Eren said as he opened the bottle of water in his hand. His eyes were shot red from the weed he smoked, and he went through the many stages of cottonmouth.

The droplet of Zeke’s cum imprinted your fingertips, and you brought your fingers to your mouth to lick up the mess he made in your hand. He let out a shaky sigh before quickly fixing his bottoms to answer his brother. 

“She was just leaving,” He sighed.

 Eren’s thick brows raised at the sight he was seeing before he let out a laugh at his brother's words, “Sure, just be sure to wear protection. Our father finds out you knocked someone up—say goodbye to your cut of his will.” He gives a sly wave to you before he leaves the kitchen again. 

“I’m going to go get cleaned up, and when I return, I would love for you not to be here.” He admits as he steps back from the space in between your thighs. 

“Okay,” You didn’t bother to argue as you gave him an innocent smile. “No goodbye kiss,” Your teeth nibbled at your lower lip as you glanced up at him through your lashes.

“You’re a pain in my ass.” You heard Zeke utter. 

But he didn’t argue against your wishes; his large hands cupped your face so gently that you could only grasp his waist, not wanting to let go. When he finally pulled away, he let his eyes linger on you just a bit longer before escaping the kitchen. 

He would always be your ugly duckling that you enjoyed bothering—but this time, he wasn’t afraid to bother you right back. 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀thanks for reading, reblogs & comments are highly appreciated.

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[lady-ashfade]

Can you too a six of crows x male reader who is always clumsy and shy but yet they love to tease him about it (it can be a female reader if you want )

But he’s just so cute.

Poly!Six of crows x Male!Clumsy!Reader

Of course I’m doing it, it so freakin cute to think about. Because as a very clumsy person myself, I think we’re fun. Also you didn’t tell me if you wanted romantic or not, so I just did what I felt was right.

Warnings: Reader being a bit of a air-head, small cuts and wounds, short, slight teasing.

You had a funny way of always walking into a room, either it was hitting your hand on the door frame, or tripping somehow. The crows were all over you, maybe just watching and cooing at how clumsy you are.

The first time they really noticed this was when you walked into your own room door, the handle didn’t work right. You couldn’t open it in the first try, and you didn’t even think about it as you tried to walk in but got face full of wood. But when they finally noticed you weren’t going to stop doing it, they fixed the damn thing. Because even if it was adorable, they didn’t like the bruising beginning to form on your forehead or nose.

“Sweetheart,” Nina batted her eyelids at you and stopped you by placing a hand in front of your chest, “There’s a hole in the floor.” She pointed down. A big hole in between the wood planks would sure injure someones leg. She watched your shy smile and look of shame, “Thank you.” Your pout and shyness had her freaking out. Nina just grabbed ahold of your arm and pulled you back and out of the old shop, nothing caught her eyes.

Lets just say you had bruised and small cuts all over yourself. The crows always had a eye on you. You could trip down the stairs again, almost giving them a heart attack when you first did it.

“Ten bucks says he walks into the table.” Jesper jokes and the group glares at him. “Don’t joke like that.” Wylan hit his chest and glared softly at him. “He already did that twice today, he can’t possibly do-” Matthias began to speak until he saw you bump into the table again. Jesper laughed as he called it.

“I swear I’m going to wrap him up with pillows.” Kaz groans and he stands up to make his way over to you. Inej just shakes her head, maybe she was was slightly amused but this was always happening.

Inej eyed you as you talked to kaz with a shy smile and tell him the story, him slightly already teasing you about it. “How he can always be a dangerous to himself at every moment is truly a wonder,” she looked at them and a smirk grew, “But he’s just so cute.”

They always cover the table or corners of everything if you bend down, knowing you’ll most likely hit your previous head. They also carry around bandages and band-aids for you. Anything they can have to prepare they have it. But kisses to each wound you have is a must. Cuddles even for the tiniest scratches.

Wylan doesn’t allow you near his things. Because you accidentally knocked over important vials, or you made a tiny explosion once and he had to pull you into the ground to protect you. “I love you, but this” he smiled while onto of you, not angry at all “This can’t happen again.” And he kissed you on the nose.

But they all tease you any chance they get, like it’s frustrating honestly. “My clumsy boy.” Jesper would say as he helps you down the stairs. Or when Inej would take away anything sharp away from you, “Let me handle these.” And she never let you touch her knives. Kaz wouldn’t let you on mission, but he would let you plan them with him. Because you were pretty smart at those things. Kaz will hold onto your waist when you’re about to fall, he would smirk at you just as acted.

Overall I think they would tease you a lot, even about things that happen months before. But you’re their clumsy man, and they will always love that about you.