#TADA !!

[sunnycanwrite]

things that have happened recently in Wayne Manor:

Alfred removed all the curtains to air then out and discovered someone has been writing on them for years.

Cow shaped hooveprints were found on the hood of Dick's car

Cow shaped hooveprints were found on the hood of Jason's car

Damian decided to move out for a good two days before showing up again, and had been clingy since, weird

Tim found out he has a gluten allergy and has been in a one sided argument with Alfred over it.

Someone thought it was funny to hid every single mug in the house in Duke's closet it was not at all he opened it and a fed of the fell over and broke.

Cass fell asleep on the couch only to awake up in a completely different part of the house, her brother's fighting over what animated barbie movie to watch. They chose the twelve dancing princesses of course.

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Alex Dimitrov, from "Love" || Edwin Payne and Charles Rowland, Dead Boy Detectives (2024)

[haveihitanerve]

Batman falls into a coma and the JL aren't too worried. The doctors said he’d recover, although a time frame was still escaping them, and as far as they knew, everyone who needed to be informed about it was a JL member. Until the others started showing up. 

“Shit shit shit shit shit man!” Flash muttered, pacing frantically in the main room. “Hey, dude, chill out.” Green Lantern lifted a hand and a massive green hand slowed the Flash’s speed. “Relax man. You heard the doctors. He will be fine. Eventually. When he wakes up.” “If.” Green Arrow added a little quieter. Lantern shot him a look. “Not helping.” “So what? When he wakes up, if! We still let the Batman get hit on a mission with us! He’ll never go out with us again!” Barry flopped onto the couch in dismay. “Hey man its okay.” Oliver reached over a comforting hand and placed it on the speedsters shoulder. “You never know. And it was an honest… issue. None of us saw the hit coming and… well there was nothing we could do.” Hal nodded his agreement. “Exactly. Relax a little Barry.” The Zeta Tubes flashed open and Wonder Woman and Superman arrived. The three men snapped up. “Where is he?” Clark asked. Barry sighed and led the way to the med room where Batman was laying. Clark and Diana went to his sides, staring down at him with a mix of concern and contemplation on their faces. “We don't know what to do.” Hal threw out, unnecessarily. “Should we remove the cowl? I mean it would break trust but to know who he is-” “you cant.” Diana interrupted before he could continue. The men all whipped around to look at her. She gestured to Batmans face, right next to her hand. “You cant. I tried. It must be some protective contingency. If hes unresponsive then the mask sort of.. Seals itself to his face.” She sounded almost impressed. “Freaky.” Barry muttered. “Leave it to Bats to not trust us even unconscious.” Hal muttered. “He does trust you.” Clark reprimanded, sending the Lantern a hard look. “Otherwise he wouldn't have gone on that mission with you.” At the mention of that all three men winced. “Anyway,” Oliver redirected the conversation. “What should we do?” “Contact anyone you know who is related to him in some way.” Hal gestured at them. “That would be us.” “What about Nightwing?” Clark asked. “He was Batmans robin.” Diana nodded. “Yeah but hes.. Hes just like a kid. And who knows if Bats even is connected to him like that.” Hal pointed out. Diana shrugged, pulling out her Justice League pager. “Better to inform him and him not to care than have him care and not know.” She countered, sending a quick message. They conceded to her point. “Besides if he doesn't have that connection, at least we’ll get to hang with him.” Oliver added. “Yeah.” Barry agreed. “He’s always so cheerful and fun!” But when they settled down in the main room to wait, when he arrived Nightwing was anything but.

The JL members had all just about settled down when the Zeta Tube opened. Was flung open, more like it, and Nightwing came billowing out, face stormy. “Where is he?” He growled, and Barry swore lightning crackled in his hands. Hal’s finger shot up in the direction of the room. Nightwing stalked past them, hurrying into the room. The members exchanged looks and scuttled after him. Nightwing had taken a seat at Batman’s side, holding his hand with his own. “Oh B.” He murmured, voice unexpectedly gentle after the rage he had only just previously shown. “Um, Nightwing?” The man stood as they entered, though he kept a lose hold on Batman’s hand.  “What happened?” He asked. Ordered, was more like it. “We- we uh were on a mission at a nearby planet and uh,” Barry licked his lips nervously, caught off guard by Nightwing’s unwavering steely gaze, usually so friendly and open. “Uh well, we thought everything was clear to go when a hit came suddenly, right in the middle of us, exploding us in different directions. We uh, the rest of us,” He gestured between himself and the two Greens. “Landed okay but uh, Bats hit his head hard. He’s in a coma.” Nightwing’s jaw set. “The doctors are sure he will recover in due time.” Clark added hastily. Nightwing offered him a curt nod. “In what time?”  The silence was awkward and deafening. Nightwing’s eyes tightened. “I see.” He looked down at the Bat at his side. “Well, best to call the others then.” He sighed, looking up to meet their eyes. “You got any coffee?” 

Nightwing left soon after, downing his cup of coffee in one go and informing them he was going home to tell the others, and that he’d be back soon with some supplies and medical assistance. They barely had time to ask what on earth and who on earth before he was gone. “Well that went well-” Barry muttered, just as the Zeta Tube doors were flung opened for the second time in one day and a very large and very aggressive looking man stormed in the doors. “Um, excuse me hello?” Barry, Hal, and Oliver stood in his way. “Who the fuck are you?” The man squinted at them, eyes narrowing behind his red mask. “The name’s Red Hood. Wheres B?” Hal lifted his hand, ring glowing. “Now listen here-” He barely managed to spit out the last word before his hand was in the strangers and he was twisting, twisting twisting. Hal screamed as his fingers snapped, crumpling to the floor. The man, Red Hood apparently, looked down at him cooly. “Ill ask again: Wheres B?” Barry pointed a shaking hand to the room. Red Hood prowled past them, throwing open the door and making his way to Batmans side. “Gods B.” He groaned quietly, sitting down carefully at the edge of the bed. “Hypocrite.” He muttered, but they all cataloged the fact that he tucked the blanket tighter around Batman’s shoulders. “He broke my fucking fingers.” Hal hissed. Oliver barely glanced at his friend. “What you want us to let him break ours too to make you feel better? Theres gauze and a brace in the closet.” Hal sent him a dirty look as Barry helped him tape the fingers together, stabilizing them. “I made more coffee-” Clark started, freezing as he walked in. “What in the hell?” He gasped, examining Hal’s fingers. Hal pointed an accusing finger(the non broken one) at the med bay. “That sicko broke them when I tried to stop him from going in there.” Clark frowned, eyes narrowing. “Thats not-” 

The Zeta Tube dinged and opened, normally this time, instead of being thrown open, and two more others piled out. “So this is the Tower huh?” The one on the right mused, wearing a muted purple outfit. The man on her left nodded, wearing a red suit, a black X across the front. Both were wearing clearly emblazoned Bat symbols on their chests. “What a waste of money. He couldn't have spruced it up a bit?” The girl asked with distaste, but Hal swore he heard false cheerfulness in her voice. The man nudged her with his shoulder. Oliver coughed. The two turned to look at them. “Oh. Hello.” The girl greeted cheerfully. “Where’s B?” “Are you gonna break our fingers if we don't tell you?” Hal asked warily. The girl winced sympathetically. “We told Dickie we should've come first.” She sighed. “No, we won’t. At least, not yet.” Her smile was all the more terrifying after that statement. The boy rolled his eyes, shoving her. “Shut up you weirdo. I’m Red Robin.” He introduced. “My freaky friend here is Spoiler. We’re not in the business of breaking fingers….” he trailed off, a strange look overcoming his features. “We’re not in the business of breaking our not-fathers colleagues fingers.” Spoiler corrected for him cheerfully. Barry had a feeling she did everything terrifying cheerfully. Even if it sounded just a little forced. Hal paled. “Good to know.” Clark said a little weakly. Red Robin smiled faintly. “Yeah. Anyway, wheres B?” “Over here you nimrods.” the finger-breaker poked his head out the door. “Hood!” Spoiler hurried over and he held the door open for her to rush past. Red Robin excused himself as well, heading over. Clark, Oliver, and Diana, more intrigued than afraid(unlike Barry and Hal) also made their way over, hovering in the back. Spoiler perched on the side of the bed, reaching her hand for his face. “The mask wont come off.” Diana stopped her. “We’ve tried.” Red Robin sent them a look and Red Hood shuffled further away in disgust. Spoiler merely glanced casually over her shoulder. “Oh I wasn't gonna.” She trailed a finger down his cheek, resting it on his neck. “He’s alive S.” Red Robin murmured quietly, taking her hand. Spoiler nodded jerkily. “I would hope so or I just dragged poor doc up here for nothing.” Came another voice and Hal almost breathed a sigh of relief as Nightwing appeared, three more people with him. “The O’s are watching Gotham, but they said he’d better wake up before they hurts someone.” His gaze drifted to the Justice League for a quick second before darting away again. Barry swallowed. The child at his side, because thats what it was, a child, sniffed hauntily. “If they can get here in time.” Red Hood chuckled, reaching down to heft the boy onto his hip. “Thats what I’m saying Demon Brat.” Clark and Barry exchanged glances at the insulting nickname, somehow said fondly. “Oh leave it alone you insufferable children.” said a lofty voice. Said voice came from the woman at Nightwings side, and she drifted casually into the room, taking a seat next to the bed. “Catwoman?” Barry exclaimed in disbelief. She offered him, appropriately, a feline smile. “In the flesh.” Nightwing chuckled, nodding to the last person in his little entourage, another female, older, with wispy white hair. “Dr. Leslie Tompkins.” Nightwing introduced them. The, civilian, for her part, didn't flinch in the face of so many heroes, instead making a beeline for the bed where she began her work. “Ok- wait, why are you all here?” Oliver finally asked, running a hand through his hair in disbelief. The kids, because thats what they were, all laughed. “These lovely strays,” Catwoman introduced, smiling as she waved a hand around to encompass the company. “Are Batmans brood. His children.” She elaborated. “And we’re missing a few too.” Nightwing muttered. The JL stared at them with open mouths. “Ah, um, okay.” Hal stuttered out finally. “And uh, who are you?” Catwoman smiled, a smile that meant pure trouble. “Oh me? I’m no one.” She lifted her right hand to reveal the sparkly diamond ring on her finger. “Only his wife.” 

Needless to say, when Batman finally woke up, he was met with the sight of his entire family, his doctor, and a very confused Justice League. The first thing he did, after kissing his wife hello and hugging all of his children, was groan. "Oh alright already." He muttered, and slipped off his cowl. "Hello Justice League, my name is Bruce Wayne." Oliver fainted.

[the-broken-pen]

Hello! Heard you were open for writing request? Had this idea in mind about a villain who's Russian and a hero who's falling for villain's accent? Maybe a bit of flirty banter as they fight 👀 your choice tho! Have a fun spring break ☀

The hero was pretty sure the villain was actually trying to kill them this time.

“Hey, don’t aim for the face, okay? It’s the money maker.”

The villain raised one eyebrow–and aimed for the hero’s face.

“Oh come on,” the hero groaned. “That’s just uncalled for.”

“Really? Is it now?”

If the hero had better judgment, they would have said something snarky back, or attempted to get the upper hand. Instead, in a move uncoordinated and wrought with embarrassment, they tripped over their own feet and blushed.

The hero was used to pretty. They were used to gorgeous.

But they had never expected to be attracted to someone’s accent of all things, and it was driving them mad.

“Yep, pretty sure it is,” they managed. They had to dodge halfway up the wall to avoid the villain’s next blow.

“You’re awfully chatty today,” the villain said, and the hero was going to lose their mind–

“Is this affection?” The hero blurted, and contemplated throwing themself off the building to spare both of them. “Because it feels like affection.”

“I don’t know,” the villain shrugged. Their mouth tipped up slightly, gone in a flash between one second and the next. “Do you want it to be?”

The hero froze. “You–I–” and found themself blinking up at the sky, the villain’s hand around their wrist. “Did you just judo flip me?” They wheezed, and the villain grinned.

“You’re blushing.”

“Yeah, because you just knocked the wind out of me. Excuse me for going red with oxygen loss–” the hero cut themself off with a cough, lungs protesting every word, and tugged the villain down to crash into the pavement beside them.

“Let me rephrase; You’ve been blushing this entire time.”

“It’s cold.”

“It’s July.”

“A very cold July.”

“If you’re going to lie,” the villain said, and truly, the hero was lucky they hadn’t had a knife pulled on them yet, “Do it well.”

The hero buckled the villain’s knees. Petty? Yes.

Satisfying? A good reprieve to try and get the blush that flared every time the villain spoke to subside? Also yes.

“Real smooth,” the villain rolled their eyes, pushing themself to their feet. “So, what is it.”

“Was that a question, or–”

“My winning personality?”

The villain was studying them with far too much care.

“Aren’t you supposed to be robbing a bank or something?” They said half-desperately.

“Smile? Laugh?” The villain paused for a moment, catching the hero’s punch as if it was nothing more than a mosquito–which was insulting, to say the least–before their face cleared of any confusion.

“Ah,” the villain said, and oh the hero was so screwed, because they knew that look. That look appeared regularly in their dreams. It was the villain’s signature ‘I figured something out and I’m going to use it to do nefarious things’ look. Their ‘I’m smarter than you and I’m about to prove it in an effortlessly ruthless maneuver’ look.

The hero saw it far too often.

“‘Ah’ what.”

The villain, damn them, grinned, releasing the hero’s hand.

“Accent.”

Any air that the hero had managed to regain after the judo flip escaped from them like they were a sinking ship.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

“No,” the hero said, cursing every single moment of their life that had led up to this one. Maybe they really should have become a lawyer– “I’m just flabbergasted by how dumb that sentence was.”

Flabbergasted. Flabbergasted. Who the hell says flabbergasted?!

“This is cute,” the villain remarked as they drew a knife. They gestured with it towards the hero’s undoubtedly fire engine red face. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this flustered.”

“I’m not flustered, I’m–”

“Flabbergasted?” The villain suggested wryly, and truly, the fact that this situation was funny in a hopeless and pathetic way was not helping. The accent absolutely was not helping either.

The hero truly had nothing to say to that, staring at the villain, the two of them impromptu statues.

“You like me,” the villain teased. “And my accent.”

The hero was not proud of what they did next.

Considering their life, it wasn’t the worst thing they had ever done out of embarrassment.

A close second, though.

The villain smirked, and in a move far more elegant than they had ever thought themself possible, the hero slid under the villain’s arm, snagging the knife from the villain’s hand as they went—and planted it into the villain’s side.

The villain blinked, hand going to their side. The hero blushed—

Finally, in the single coherent thought they had managed in seemingly their entire life, they did something not embarrassingly pathetic.

The hero bolted away, into side streets and alleys, to the sound of the villain’s pained and endlessly amused laughter.

“Real smooth,” the villain called after them, voice echoing between the buildings. “You’re handling this quite well.”

The villain was never going to let them live this down.

[the-evil-lovable-simp]

This one is from copying a pose that already exists⬆️

And this one was still looking at him, but making up my own pose⬆️

[077891st]

upside down🌀 downside up

[harritudur]

it’s not that. i don’t want you to go.

[heyyesimtrash-whatofit]

A portrait of a boy torn appart by time itself

Marty McFly: the World’s First Human Time Traveler

(Rambles and alt-colors under cut)

For as long as I’ve loved Back to the Future, I’ve never done any art for it. Is part of the reason for that Marty’s dang hair and the fact that I could never get it right? Maybe. But! In light of me getting tickets to go and see the BTTF Musical on tour with my (equally as big of a nerd) father, I was hit with a vision and just had to draw it. So here we are, the boy torn by time himself, Marty “The World’s Coolest Loser” McFly.

Honestly very proud of this piece. I learned how to fake holographics in a 2D piece, render lightning, and draw Marty’s stupid hair all in the span of creating it and I’m glad to say I now have those skills under my belt. Expect more BTTF alongside my recent Gatsby obsession and slowly returning LSOH adoration. See you in the future! 🎸⚡️⏰

Non B&W photo version and Plain Marty cause I’m proud:

[i-give-u--art]

I’m a very rare breed of queer catholic

[marlynnofmany]

Schrödinger’s Poison

Mending the spaceship’s extra cargo net was difficult. Too many strands. I held a couple in my teeth while both hands struggled with the rest, and it wasn't enough. I was considering getting my feet involved (or maybe a crewmate) when I heard excited voices in the hallway.

“Welcome back! Find anything good?”

“Yes! I met someone who wanted the expired heatpacks!”

“What, seriously?”

“You owe me a shrimp stick. Pay up.”

Good-natured grumbling followed. I was pretty sure these were the Frillian twins, who looked like fishy bodybuilders with a fashion sense that always caught me off guard. Either drapey veils and skirts, matching their own flowy fins, or strategically placed stretchy bands. No middle ground. And they were very competitive.

“What did they even want with old heatpacks? You told them they were expired, right?”

“Of course I did! You think I would cheat like that?”

The indignant one was Blip, I was pretty sure, the female of the pair — or the closest thing to female, since their species seemed to handle gender a little differently than humans did. Her brother was Blop.

“Ah, ‘course not,” he admitted. “What are they going to use them for, though?”

“Something about separating the components and putting them to other uses. But look what I got in trade! Human food that’s not expired!”

I looked up at that, mouth still full of cords, but of course the cargo bay door blocked my view. I listened, though.

“What kind is — OH, GET IT AWAY!”

“What? Why?”

I froze, just as curious.

“Do you know how many humans that stuff kills every cycle??”

“What are you talking about?” Blip demanded. “It’s food. It says so right here.”

“Don’t touch me with it! Put it in the containment chamber and get yourself scanned for poison!”

I wove quickly, rushing to finish so I didn’t lose my place; we needed all the nets, and we hadn’t been able to get a new one at the space station; this was important; but Oh man, what do they have out there?

“Humans are omnivores who eat anything! How is this deadly?” Blip was demanding when a new voice arrived.

“What’s the shouting?” asked Paint, her usual cheer dampened by worry. I could just picture her with hands clasped anxiously and her scaly tail held stiff: the very picture of lizardlike concern.

“That’s poison!”

“It’s food!”

“Poisonous food!”

Any hope I had of Paint calming things down was dashed when she asked for a closer look, then slammed into the cargo bay door in her panic to jump back. “I’ve heard of that! It killed an ambassador!”

“See? I told you—”

“We need to get you both scanned, and maybe me too,” Paint said, hyperventilating already. “Maybe the whole ship! Is it airborne? CAPTAIN! CAPTAAAIN!”

I threw the net to the floor and lunged for the door button. It banged open and startled Paint even more; she spun from where she’d been about to dash off in a streak of orange scales.

“What is it?” I demanded, making the pair of Frillians back up a step. I probably looked like some unhinged demon, slamming out of the bay like that. They were both wearing veritable clouds of neon green silks, so the surprise was at least a little bit mutual.

Blip held a jar over her shoulder, clearly torn between showing me the label and keeping it at a safe distance. I squinted, expecting alcohol or some unregulated drug.

Spaceman Spiff’s Chunky Peanut Butter, said the label.

I stared for a long moment, while everyone was silent. Then I’m afraid I startled them all by bursting into laughter.

“It’s not poisonous!” I managed to say.

“But it killed an ambassador!” Paint objected. “I read the report!”

“I am sorry to hear that,” I said, leaning against the wall for support. “The ambassador was allergic to peanuts.”

It took a bit of explaining, and I had to go over it all again when Captain Sunlight came running up, but I did get things settled.

“I can’t believe there are humans allergic to food,” Blip said. “I’ve heard of overreactions to mild toxins and venoms, but really, food? From your own planet?”

“Yup,” I said, putting out a hand for the peanut butter. “Not me, though. I like peanuts.” The jar was a hefty one, manufactured for long voyages. “We can still scan it to run through the medical systems, just in case one of you guys might react badly to it. But it’s not officially toxic.”

“Well, that is good to hear,” said Captain Sunlight, standing as tall as her little lizardy frame allowed. “How about you do that now, and anyone who came in contact with it goes along?”

Blip and Blop agreed immediately, not needing Paint’s waving hands to usher us down the hall.

I looked over my shoulder at Paint as I walked. “Once we get everybody checked out, you should try some. It’s good on toast.”

“Toasted what?” Paint asked, still shooing away.

“Bread.”

“Oh no,” she said. “I heard about that ‘pizza’ you talked people into eating on Kamm’s ship!”

“Some of them liked it!” I objected.

“Not Bopburt.”

“No, not Bopburt,” I admitted. “But this is totally different. Thanks for getting it, Blip!” I turned to wave the jar at the Frillian in the lead.

“My pleasure,” she said, and it almost sounded like she meant it.

“Want to try some once it’s safe?”

“No, I do not.”

“Your loss.”

~~~

The ongoing adventures of backstory for this book! More to come.

[sunnycanwrite]

Barbara Gordon, cosplay by yours truly

[hold-him-down]

ok ive perused the febuwhump list and picked out my favorites which one do we want the top most?

[haveihitanerve]

Be Afraid

Nightwing.

Honest to gods- Nightwing.

Horace couldn't believe it. He had Nightwing chained in his warehouse. His. When the boss found out they had Nightwing… oh it was going to be a fun night.

Terry moved, ripping off the mangled remains of the heroes costume. They had found out the hard way that the mask couldn't be removed, but that was only a minor setback. They could have some fun in the meanwhile.

Horace grinned as Terry cracked his neck, slipping brass knuckles onto his fingers. Nightwing lifted his head from between where his arms were chained to the ceiling, and, miraculously, smiled. It was more than a little chilling.

“Oh good,” He chuckled lightly. “You brought toys. And here I was thinking you guys’d be boring.”

Horace sneered at him, lifting his baseball bat. “You’ll regret that lip in a second.” He warned, as Terry drew back.

Nightwing laughed, a sound so at odds with the situation they all paused. “Oh undoubtedly.” The vigilante agreed, dazzling smile still on his face.

“Huh?” Terry frowned.

Nightwings smile didn't falter, tsking lightly. “But I think you’ll regret it more.”

Horace snarled, lifting the bat higher. “Regret what?” He snapped.

Nightwing shrugged, a remarkable feat seeing as his shoulders were literally pressed against his ears and most likely pulled from their sockets by this point.

“Touching me, any of this really.” He snorted, smile turning almost sympathetic. “You see,” He sighed, shaking his head. “My Dad’s got an awful temper when it comes to something that's his getting stolen.”

Glass shattered overhead and Horace barely had time to scream before The Batman landed in front of the blue hero.

Nightwing smiled cheerfully.

“Run.” 

[mudwerks]

Wind-up Batman Tin Robot with Original Box (Tada, 1960's)

Made for the Japanese market, this key-in wind-up Batman robot is 13" tall and was produced by Tada in the 1960's. Constructed with a tin body, the robot has a painted vinyl head and cloth cape.

[luciferfemme]

[that-creature-thing]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Transformers - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Prowl/Sideswipe/Sunstreaker (Transformers), Jazz/Prowl (Transformers) Characters: Sideswipe (Transformers), Sunstreaker (Transformers), Prowl (Transformers), Jazz (Transformers) Additional Tags: Jazz/Prowl is not the focus, But it plays a part, Sticky Sexual Interfacing (Transformers), Valve Fingering (Transformers), Valve Oral (Transformers), Anal Fingering, Ass to Mouth, Double Penetration, Cock Warming, Threesome - M/M/M, Consensual Infidelity, Bored and Horny, but with a wee bit of angst, Post-War, Fuck My Wife, PLEASE IM SO TIRED, Anal Sex Summary:

The war has been over for a hot minute and everything is peachy! No really! Everything's going great! The Lambo twins discover that Prowl is basically without a job and Jazz does not have the time and energy to keep his miserable lover happy while hanging on to his own sanity. But, lucky for him (and Prowl) he knows two mechs that are more than willing to answer the call!