#MY WEIGHTED BLANKET

[shadowseductress]

*can you lay on top of me and crush me with your entire body weight*

[fckbatmanhiskidsareminenow]

tim and damian alone in the manor one day when tim is feeling ungrounded and needs to sleep.

“damian i need you to lay on me”

“what?!”

“i’m feeling so out of my body right now i just need pressure”

damian watches at tim barely manages to put a sentence together and feels a little scared (scared is not the word i’m looking for it’s probably mild concern.) so he listens and kinda just flops his body down onto tim’s.

(they both end up asleep and dick still has the photographic evidence)

[skellydun]

who wants to lay on top of me like a weighted blanket and fix me

[kurgy]

Bryn is. dead

[blackseafoam]

“Buried Alive” for @weekly-star-wars-prompts

I had every intention to make this silly, like Ezra being comedically crushed by loth wolves, but it became sentimental ;-; Sometimes the art is just using you to create itself.

[abbeyofcyn]

I think I forgot how to draw

[vorekody]

FINALLY done with this, a concept of the storage and digestive dolphin pred guts (-the thing that inspired me to make Alon in the first place shsjh)

Anyways I feel like it's usually the first stomach that's safe in mer/naga/centaur vore so I wanted to change it up a little bit.

Also felt like it made a bit more sense for Alon's bigger stomach to be for storing stuff yk?

This does make it so they can only digest one person at a time because of the lack of room in their first stomach, but I really like it that way I think, gotta wait ur turn.

[dreamyluigi]

super sleepy brothers. the super snuggle bros. because i've been nothing but sleepy and cold lately

[justbreakonme]

A touch starved whumpee who’s too scared to actually hug or cuddle anyone, so Caretaker gives them a heated weighted blanket, so they can feel “touch” without being scared.

Whumpee sleeps so well it worries Caretaker because they don’t move for about 12 hours straight, and they wake up all groggy and sweaty with those lines across their cheek from the pillow case. But they wake up happy.

[bloominglegumes]

whoever recently sent me the ask about jazzprowl yuri i deleted it by accident im so sorry but i fully agree. world is harsh and cold tiddy soft and warm

[snapcracklepop-myjoints]

I fucking love being sensory seeking autistic actually. YES the world is full of pain but I have a fuzzy weighted blanket and sour spray. Bitch.

[lunfio]

first kylux art and its a shitpost

[valentimmy]

sleepy :(

[jojo-schmo]

I’m just really happy right now, okay?!

[squishykitty825]

Christmas at Wayne Manor is usually hectic. With various arguments about varying topics and an inevitable snowball fight that ended with the four boys being draped in blankets in front of the fire because they were all out there in nothing but sweatpants.

Between serving rounds of hot chocolate and adding new logs to the fire, Alfred would be seen cleaning up the discarded tissue paper and scraps of wrapping paper that littered the floor.

That is until the year Bruce gave each one of his children weighted blankets, and the hours which in previous years had been flooded with shouting and shivering bodies were replaced with the sound of deep breathing.

—————————————————

The lack of noise coming from the drawing room was concerning as Bruce made his way back to the room after helping Alfred finish cleaning up the wrapping paper. Alfred was currently in the kitchen beginning preparations for Christmas dinner.

As he stepped into the room, bracing himself for a snowball to the face—because there’s no other way his children would be this quiet unless they were planning a sneak attack—but was surprised to find his children weren’t scheming as he had thought. Dick was sitting in front of the couch, Tim and Stephanie leaning their heads on either of his shoulders and Damian curled up on his lap, their weighted blankets draped over each of them while Jason laid on the couch under his own blanket. All of them were asleep.

Leaning against the doorframe, Bruce crossed his arms and watched the deep breathing of his kids, the soft music coming from the record player Dick had given to Alfred floating over to him.

“I believe you made a good decision for their gifts this year, Master Bruce,” Alfred said softly, coming to a stop beside him.

Bruce smiled. “I’m afraid Jason won’t be able to keep up his promise to help you with Christmas dinner this year, Alfred.”

“That’s alright, Master Bruce,” the butler replied. “Let them sleep. I do not think any of them have gotten this much sleep in a while.”

Bruce chuckled. Between regular villains of the week and the holiday schemes from a myriad of different villains, they had all been swamped on patrol.

“I’d offer to help, but I think we both know it’s for the best that I don’t,” Bruce said.

“I appreciate the thought nonetheless,” Alfred replied.

They stood there in silence for a moment.

Then, as Alfred turned to leave, Bruce said, “Merry Christmas, Alfred.”

“Merry Christmas, Master Bruce.”

[asfodelle]

Naps.