#dick in me rn

[sicksorrows]

my nanami hcs (nsfw & sfw)

idk if these are hcs or smth bc he'd look like he'd do most of these but anyway enjoy my rant on my man

sfw

he would allow you to do ANYTHING to him and I mean anything, or vice versa because he'd also do anything for you. if you ask him to do the laundry or dishes, he'd do it without asking any questions.

if you ask him for help on something he'd literally help you without making you feel dumb.

he would give you a good morning kiss every morning.

he would make breakfast for you every morning and if you didn't feel like eating it he'd persuade you anyway (I would still eat it even if I have the urge to throw up)

he would ask you to put his tie on for him before work, just so he could spend a little more time with you before he heads out--he would also give you a peck before leaving.

if he comes home from a mission and got severely injured he would run up to you right away to get his wounds treated.

he's a big spoon.

he is 100 precent devoted to you, he would remember every single thing about you, ranging from your birthday to your favourite food, to your siblings/parents name, anything.

if hes willing to do anything for you, then that means learning stuff you like just so he could connect with you better. for example you really love drawing, he would practice drawing everyday and show you it just to get the smallest reaction from you.

he is SO good at communication. say you both are having a heated argument, he would try to keep you, and himself calm, to help the situation better. and just basically be respectful throughout the way

he would never abuse you for his own entertainment, I just can't see him do that.

he gets jealous but doesn't show it, which leads me to that hes really good at hiding things or keeping things secret.

he is a soft spoken person.

brag about you to anyone he meets, or he would definitely bring you up in most conversations if it reminds him of you.

nsfw

he would so fuck you in his clothes, and it would always be the shirts because he loves the way you wear him.

he is such a switch.

he would enjoy pegging

he whines and begs, he is also a grunter.

praises you during and after sex, telling you how good you were and just basically makes you feel better about yourself.

he is slow and gentle but also pushes your limits the slightest, just to get a reaction out of you.

loves hand jobs ...

if you're sucking his dick he wouldn't make you take his full length unless you're ready for it.

oh my god he always asks for reassurance

angry sex..imagine him coming home angry from work or a mission and he just needs something to calm down, which is you. so he fucks you whilst still being angry, so you're basically his energy recharge

pulls your hair. especially during oral

into slight bdsm, (blindfolds, handcuffs ect.)

knows how to use his hands/fingers.

body worshipper.

teases or edges you.

if you're receiving backshots from him, he would be slow with you and hold onto you carefully.

if were talking about foreplay he is SLOW. he wants to savour his time with you and taste every part of you at his own pace, he isn't one to rush with it.

loves hearing you being loud, if you were quiet he'd force you to become loud somehow

he whimpers.

makes sex tapes on certain occasions..and jerks off to them later

if its a special occasion like your birthday, he would so give you birthday sex.

hes kind of the type to do semi public sex, for example; a changing room, the beach, movies, elevators

roleplays..

lastly, he is the aftercare king. after you guys are done whatever you were doing he would pamper you like a princess with seven servants. he would clean you up before himself, and make sure you feel satisfied when he finishes. when you both are clean he would cuddle you and stroke your hair as you fall asleep in his arms.

ughhh I love this man so much its actually making me go insane every single second of the day, my life is getting so fucked up because of this man. nanami is literally perfect in so many different ways, I literally have so much more scenarios or hcs for this man but I can't say it on here cuz I dont wanna get flamed...I need this man so badly I literally only told two of my friends about nanami because im worried my other friends would judge me for this. but either way i love him so so so so much oh my god the way I wish he was real, because id actually treat him like a king and not like some person who just wants him for sex...anyway...if he was real id actually give him the biggest hug ever and literally ask him out, I would not care if he rejected me, in fact id be happy that he even interacted with me because this man is so hot and beautiful and all of the above I know im out of his league, or not even his type. I need his dick inside me so badly and I know I say that a lot but genuinely I dont think his dick is enough for me, theres something about him that makes me want to have him by my side forever, I wish our souls combined and we are spiritually together. I wish that we could mold into each other and stay like that, forever. my love for this man can not compare to the love I have for anyone else. if I were to choose over nanami and my old hyper fixation from like 5 years ago, id choose nanami. and there may be some days where I just dont fuck with jjk but that may not change my love for him. I have never talked about a character this much esp it being an anime character but that doesn't stop me.

I want to give him the most malevolent, jaw dropping, hip thrusting best fucking head in the whole world. I dont care if it doesn't fit in my mouth id let my jaw lock if it had to be sucking him off. I wish jjk was an underground unknown show so I could just thirst over nanami so no one else could have him, but im glad it got popular because this is literally how I found my man. especially when I was a jjk hater and I never knew about him, but when I gave it a try im SO glad I did. im also SO grateful gege even made nanami a character, just a little ungrateful he killed him off but that okay! at least nanami existed through out two seasons. but if gege went with his other plan which was making nanami into a villain I would still hit cause oh my god the thought turns me on and im going insane about it. I literally wish I could write well, or draw well, so I could complete my desires which is drawing nanami in any way I could, or writing good scenarios with him but god gave me that ability to not draw (or write) because He knew id be unstoppable if I did, anyway, I need backshots from nanami until my voice practically runs out and the last words im left saying is: I love you, nanami.

[vechter]

dick grayson in the arabian desert

grayson (2014) #5 // wild geese by mary oliver // when did it happen? by mary oliver // the body keeps the score: brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma by bessel van der kolk // batman (1940) #156 // north star by starlingsinwinter

[karvviie]

have i mentioned that i’m a red team locus truther

(this is old art. earliest is from 2020)

[mandukkul]

My sister: i cannot give you good criticism on your writing because my writing is not on the same level as yours

Me: this is fanfiction

[were-wolverine]

*headcanons your ‘hyper-sexualized by the fandom’ character as asexual*

[erinwantstowrite]

ok ok ok last doodle for today but it was so important to me to draw these

[manchesterau]

the switch into and out of sister daniel is like watching a performance

[katsukiizmoon]

I have actual tears in my eyes thinking about deep sex with music in the background with Katsuki???? Oh my fucking god can you imagine— shut the fuck up—??? 18+ with f!reader

Katsuki’s tongue slides against yours, firm hand gripping at your waist to keep you steady. Your legs tremble and a hiccup leaves you, breaking this kiss with a pant when he bottoms out again.

His forehead knocks against yours, eyes squeezing shut, his mouth dropping in a low “o” and he pulls back. His cock pulls leaving just the head in, then he slams forward. Your hands find themselves grabbing tenaciously at his large arms.

You blink, swallowing down a watery sound, when you look up. The breath is knocked out if you, he’s buried to the hilt, forehead sticky with sweat.

Cherry red, thin eyes study your pretty face. He looks down, then, between your bodies. Your tummy quivers, pussy squelching as he strokes deep and hard. His tongue flicks over his lips and he wills himself to focus.

That stupid fucking remix of crazy in love starts in the background and he punctuates the beat with a thrust. Your head throws back, nails digging and dragging into his shoulders now, while his cock drags against your wet walls.

Something about it makes your nose and lips tingle, makes you a little too high. And he eats it up, letting out a long and drawn out groan. The hair at the back of his neck is damp from sweat and there’s sparkly lip gloss on the corner of his mouth.

Time stops existing, his heavy body presses harder against yours and he makes it a point to kiss you. Languid, like he’s savoring the taste of your spit and trying to memorize the texture of your lips. A string of spit falls against your chin when he pulls back with a gasp.

“Yeah, yeah— look at you, pretty.” Katsuki gasps, eyes momentarily rolling back.

The music all but forgotten, merely minuscule compared to the absolute god of a man pounding into you with perfect rhythm. He looks so pretty, flushed in the face and fucking into you like he’s got all the time in the world. The grip of his hand heats up a little, he finds himself holding you a little harder, a little closer.

[damianwaynerocks]

thinking about dick grayson and tim drake. dick was SO good to tim when he was robin. and i think there might’ve been a reason for that.

he wasn’t great to jason. he wasn’t terrible, of course. but he didn’t make near as much of an effort. and then jason died.

we know it wasnt intentional, dick not putting in effort. we know he cared about jason, but he was hurt and he was an adult and adults get so lost in their own lives that they can forget to make an effort. we know he did nothing wrong, but dick probably didn’t know that. dick grayson, the man who shoulders so much responsibility that his hands are always shaking, probably was thinking if i was there, if i would’ve done more.

the guilt probably ate him up, and then when bruce got tim, dick didn’t want to make the same mistake. so he went out of his way to be there for tim, to be the best big brother he possibly could. because he had to atone. because of guilt.

because at his core, dick grayson is nothing if not wracked with guilt to his very soul.

[necrotic-nephilim]

Tim's unternet suit really is the most glaringly obvious hero worship/crush for Dick thing he ever has. in the unternet, where Tim's subconscious creates what he is. that's the suit his brain comes up with? something so clearly derivative of Nightwing? down to the *finger stripes*?

red robin #19

this is gay as hell. the reason Tim can't wear this soul irl is bc the first thing he would do is jerk off in it. and he couldn't handle the embarrassment of Dick seeing how similar it is. if DC ever made this Tim's official suit the first thing they would have to do is make Tim and Dick fuck in it. i'm so close to writing that fic i won't lie.

[xy-is-i]

Just thinking about Dick freaking out over losing his title of best uncle to Jason.

Dick showing up to take Lian out and give Roy a break only to hear she's having a fun day with Jason

Dick walking into the room with the toy he knows Lian really wanted, only to find out Jason got it for her first.

Dick showing up to game night at Roy's only to find Jason already there.

Just Dick getting increasingly frustrated and his rival Jason having no clue well the the rest watch on in humor and exasperation. Roy finds the who thing hilarious.

Picturing it all coming to a head when Dick is babysitting Lian and she shows him a new photo they put up. Dick all dejectivly being like, "look, it's you and your favorite uncle."

The pure shock and joy he feels when Lian tells him he wrong and her favorite uncle is "you uncle Dickie, duh!"

The door opening and Lian shouting "Papa!" As dick turns to excitedly tell Roy what Lian said only to see it's Jason who's holding Lian.

Dick just bluescreening.

[sicksorrows]

when hes a grade 1, blond, dead sorcerer 😍

[killerplink]

Y'all, I have a bad case of Nightwing brain rot lmao, so here's more of this hottie 🤭 (I have more lined up bc my brain is that horny)

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Female Reader

Words: 2,8k

Plot: After a brutal night on patrol, Dick comes home sore, bruised, and aching for relief. You take it upon yourself to help him unwind.

CW: 18+, smut, established relationship, deep throating, cum swallowing, masturbation, finger fucking, a bit of fluff ✨

Dick stumbles through the front door sometime after midnight, looking like he's been through hell and back, and he might as well have been. Gotham never lacks crime, never gives him a break, and he's always out there fighting it, night after night, no matter how much it wears him down.

The suit is scuffed, his lip is split, and you know he's sore just from the way he moves—stiff, tense, muscles wound tight from the night's work. But no matter how brutal the night gets, his favorite part of every day is always the same—coming home to you.

"Dick, my love, you look like shit," you murmur, but there's no bite in it, just worry, just love.

He chuckles, breathless, kicking off his boots. "Feel like it, too."

He leans down, his lips brushing against yours softly, but you notice the way he winces slightly, just the faintest hint of pain behind his expression. His hand presses against the couch for support, his body still heavy with exhaustion and soreness. But even as he winces, his kiss is tender, a stark contrast to the tension in his muscles.

He doesn't let it stop him, though—he deepens the kiss, his tongue slowly slipping into your mouth, desperate to feel something other than pain, something that can make him forget about the night's brutality.

You reach up, cupping his face gently, your thumb brushing across his jaw. His skin is warm and smooth, feeling soft under your touch. You kiss him back slowly, savoring the taste of him, the way his lips move against yours despite the ache in his body.

The tension in him fades with your touch, his breath soft as he exhales. You let your fingers trace along his face, grounding him, showing him without words that you're here, that you're not going anywhere.

A hot shower helps, washing away the blood and grime, easing some of the ache. When he steps out, towel slung low on his hips, you're already waiting, first-aid kit open, ready to tend to the bruises and scrapes he can't just sleep off.

"Sit, baby."

He obeys, spreading his legs slightly as he settles onto the couch. You step between them, your fingers gentle as you dab at the cut above his brow, then move lower, tending to the scrape along his ribs.

His hands—large, warm, still calloused from the night's work—find your waist, thumbs rubbing slow circles against your skin. There's nothing overtly sexual about it, not at first, just quiet affection, just him touching you because he needs to, grounding himself in the warmth of your body.

You don't miss the way his eyes soften, the way he looks at you—like you're the only thing that matters. Like you're the only reason he comes home. Your touch is careful, practiced, but he still hisses when you press an alcohol wipe to his skin.

"Sorry," you whisper, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, soothing him the way you always do.

And maybe it's the way he melts under you, or maybe it's just the way he looks—hair damp, muscles flexing under your touch, towel still hanging precariously off his hips—but fuck, you want him.

Want to make him forget about the pain, the bruises, the tension still lingering in his body.

So you press another soft kiss to his jaw, then lower, lips grazing his throat, his muscular chest. His breath stutters as you sink to your knees between his legs, fingers trailing over his stomach, teasing along the waistband of his towel.

"Baby," he murmurs, voice already strained, already knowing.

You tilt your head, blinking up at him with the most innocent expression you can muster, though your hands are anything but. One tug, and the towel falls open, his cock already half-hard, lying heavy against his thigh.

Pretty, just like the rest of him.

Because fuck, even his dick is beautiful—long, thick, flushed a deep shade of pink at the tip, veins running along his shaft, curving just slightly in a way that always hits just right inside you.

He's gorgeous everywhere, even here, even like this, leaking precum and twitching under your touch, aching to be inside you, to stretch your needy cunt open and fill you up just the way you love.

You hum, dragging your fingers up his length, tracing the veins, teasing the flushed, leaking tip with your thumb. He throbs under your touch, jaw clenching as his breath hitches.

"You don't have to—"

"I want to," you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his cock, tasting the first bead of precum. "Let me take care of you, baby."

And then you part your lips and take him in.

His head drops back against the couch with a low groan, fingers threading into your hair as you sink down, slow and deliberate, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him deeper. The stretch of him on your tongue is perfect, thick and heavy, and you moan around him just because you can't help it.

His cock is so big in your mouth, your lips stretched wide around him, your jaw already aching as you push yourself further down his length. He's barely even halfway in, but you don't stop—you need this, need to make him fall apart for you.

"F-fuck, that mouth—"

His grip in your hair tightens, not pushing, just holding, like he needs the anchor, like the pleasure is already threatening to pull him under. You work him slow at first, sucking, licking, teasing your tongue along the underside of his dick just to feel the way he shudders.

But you don't hold back for long—you can't. Not when he sounds so good, not when he's gripping the couch like he's barely holding on.

So you take a breath, relax your throat, and sink down.

His gasp is sharp, raw, his hips jerking just slightly as his cock slides deep, deeper, past your tongue, past your gag reflex, until your nose is flush against his pelvis. Your throat clenches around him, and his entire body shakes.

"Holy fuck—"

The thought barely registers in his head before you swallow, your throat tightening around his cock, sucking him down like you need it, like you're fucking starving for him.

"Jesus," he rasps, breath shuddering, "fuck, baby—"

Your nails dig into his thigh as you bob your head, deep-throating him over and over, your throat stretched perfectly around him. He's never felt anything like it—so fucking hot and wet and tight, your tongue pressing against the underside of his cock just right.

You're gonna fucking ruin him.

His jaw clenches, his abs tightening as he fights the urge to just fuck your throat, to chase the heat of it, to feel you struggle and choke around his dick. But you're already pushing yourself, already moaning like you love it, like you need this just as much as he does.

And fuck, that's what kills him the most—the way you enjoy this, the way you look at him, your eyes all hazy and desperate as you take him deeper, your throat convulsing around his cock.

Then you pull back just enough to take a breath, spit trailing from your lips to his length as you stroke him, looking up at him with those eyes, so fucked-out, so eager.

"You taste so fucking good," you murmur, tongue flicking over the head of his cock, licking up his precum. "Even your dick is perfect."

He laughs, breathless, wrecked. "Jesus, baby—"

Then you're back on him, sucking hard, letting him feel just how much you love this—love him. You moan around his dick, the vibrations making him curse, making his grip tighten in your hair.

And fuck, you need something too. Your free hand dips between your thighs, pushing your panties to the side, rubbing slow circles against your clit before sinking two fingers into your soaked cunt.

It's not enough—not even close. Your fingers are too short, too small, and they'll never stretch you like his do, never reach as deep as his cock does, but it's something, something to take the edge off as you swallow him down, your lips stretched wide around his cock.

Dick notices immediately. His eyes—half-lidded, dark with lust—flick down to where your hand moves between your legs.

"Are you—" his breath shudders out of him as you suck him deeper. "Fuck—touching yourself?"

You nod, moaning around his cock, your fingers fucking into your soaked cunt, the slick sound obscene as you work yourself open.

"That's—" his voice breaks on a groan as you take him deeper, nose pressing to his pelvis. "That's so fucking hot, baby—"

His cock throbs on your tongue, his abs tightening as you work him harder, faster, chasing his release as you fuck yourself with your fingers, already so close—

Then his grip in your hair tightens, tugging just enough to pull you back. And he fucking growls, fingers tangling in your hair. "Baby, I'm gonna—"

You don't give him a choice.

You take him back down, sucking him deep, moaning as you work your fingers faster inside yourself, already on the edge. He curses, hips jerking as he loses it, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling down your throat as his entire body tenses.

You swallow everything, moaning around him, letting him feel just how much you love this—love him. His cum coats your tongue, salty, thick, filling your mouth before you swallow it all, dragging your lips off his cock with a filthy, wet pop.

And that's it—that's it—the taste of him, the wrecked, desperate look in his eyes as you lick your lips, the way his cum still lingers on your tongue.

You whimper, fucking yourself faster, harder, hips grinding against your own fingers until you snap—a ragged, breathless cry tearing from your lips as the pleasure hits hard. Your swollen clit pulses, heat rushing through your body in waves, your cunt clenching down on your fingers, desperate for something more, something bigger, something his.

Your fingers work you through it, slick dripping down your thighs, soaking your hand as you shudder and moan, your body trembling, overstimulated and aching for him even as your orgasm ravages you.

And fuck, the way he watches you—eyes dark, lips parted, his still-sensitive cock twitching at the sight of you falling apart just from sucking him off. His jaw tightens, breath caught in his throat as his gaze locks onto the way your fingers rub slow, teasing circles over your oversensitive clit, how your soaked fingers slip from your fluttering hole, still dripping, still needy.

"Jesus, baby," he rasps, voice thick with heat and awe, his hands cupping your face, aching to touch you. "You're so fucking beautiful like this."

He knows that was good, knows it wasn't enough, knows you're still throbbing for him. And fuck, you need him to fix it.

Dick groans, pulling you up into his lap, his lips crashing onto yours in a deep, filthy kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. He licks into your mouth, hot and messy, his tongue sliding against yours, teasing, claiming, making you whimper into him.

His hands are already between your thighs, fingers slipping through your wetness, making you shudder. He groans against your lips, dragging his fingers through the slick dripping from your cunt, teasing your entrance before sliding up to your throbbing clit, his touch possessive, relentless. He circles it slowly, too slowly, smirking against your mouth when you whine, hips jerking forward, needy for more.

"Already so wet for me," he murmurs, voice thick with lust, fingers pressing against your clit just right, making you tremble. "Such a messy little thing, aren't you, baby?"

And fuck, you are—soaked and desperate, aching for every touch, every filthy little thing he's about to do to you.

Before you can recover, before the last wave of pleasure even fades, his fingers sink inside you—two at first, long and perfect, stretching you open in a way your own never could. A sharp gasp catches in your throat, your cunt clenching down on him instinctively, still sensitive, still reeling, but fuck, you love it.

"One more, baby," he murmurs, voice low, wrecked, pressing soft kisses to your jaw as his fingers fuck into you, slick and messy, teasing the spot inside that makes you sob. "Give me another, yeah? Let me feel you squeeze my fingers this time."

His voice is so desperate, so needy, like he needs this more than air, like he's begging you to cum for him again—just once more.

And fuck, how could you ever tell him no?

Your thighs are still shaking, muscles twitching from your last orgasm, but you spread them wider, letting him see just how messy you are, just how needy he's made you. His fingers are still inside you, knuckles deep, fucking soaked—and when you clench down around them, whining, his breath shudders.

"That's it, baby," he murmurs, eyes dark, heavy-lidded, watching you like you're the only thing in the world.

And when you rock your hips down, sinking onto his fingers with a broken gasp, he just lets you—fuck, he even helps you.

His other hand grips your hip, fingers digging in just enough to hold you steady, and every time you slide down, he curls his fingers just right—dragging against that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back, makes your stomach tighten, pulse with the need to cum again.

"Yeah? That's what you needed?"

His voice is all heat, all filth, dripping with praise and greed, and fuck, you can only nod.

"More," you whisper, voice shaky, wrecked.

And he gives it to you.

He spreads his fingers, stretching you just a little wider, just enough to make your hips stutter, to make you whimper. The lewd, wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out fill the room, mixing with your ragged moans, and fuck, you're close.

"You wanna cum for me, pretty girl?"

He's watching you fall apart, his cock twitching where it rests against his stomach, aching, throbbing, but he doesn't stop. He just fucks his fingers up into you harder, faster, matching the desperate way you ride them, chasing your high.

You're soaked, dripping, his hand shiny with it, and he loves it—loves how sloppy, how shameless you are for him.

Your walls clench down, pulsing around him as you gasp, moan, your whole body trembling as the orgasm crashes over you.

And fuck, the way he groans, the way he grinds his dick against your thigh, so wrecked, so desperate, tells you—he's just as fucking gone for you.

He grinds his still-hard cock against your soaked folds, feeling just how needy you still are, how your clit twitches when he rubs against it. He slides just the tip in—just to tease, just to hear you whimper—and he smirks against your mouth when you try to sink down onto him.

"Easy, baby," he murmurs, lips brushing yours, his voice low, wrecked, teasing. "You're still shaking."

And fuck, you are—still sensitive, still throbbing, still fluttering from the way he just fucked you open on his fingers. But it's not enough. Your cunt is aching for him, soaking for him, and when he nudges the head of his cock against your entrance, you whine, desperate.

"Please," you breathe, your lips brushing his, sticky, wet, still tasting like him.

But he's in no rush.

He slides the tip in, just enough to stretch you, just enough for your pussy to cling to him, and fuck, the way your slick coats his cock, mixing with his precum, makes his jaw clench.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, watching as he pulls back, just to see the way your arousal sticks to him, the way your cunt flutters around nothing, needy.

Then he does it again. Slipping just the tip in. Pulling back. Watching your slick drag across his cock.

It's torture. It's heaven. And fuck, it's so messy.

You kiss him hard, hot, sloppy, licking into his mouth, sucking on his tongue, moaning when he grinds the head of his cock against your aching clit.

"You want it that bad?" he murmurs against your lips, teasing, wrecked, cocky.

And God, you do. You whimper, grinding down, your clit rubbing against the head of his cock, so desperate, so fucking needy for him to just—

"That was—" he breathes, but the words seem to escape him.

"Hot as fuck?" you murmur against his lips.

He laughs, still breathless, still wrecked. "Yeah. That."

And you know he's already planning how to return the favor as he finally slides deep inside your aching pussy.

[starry-bi-sky]

i have been unmedicated for the entirety of spring break and thus have had little interest in writing this down, but i have been thinking about this for the entire week (as well as a dpdc clone danny au that resulted in it becoming its entirely separate batman au that includes a teenage vigilante bruce wayne, an ocarina, and me entirely incapable of making a batman au without making bruce dirt poor but we're not talking about that) and so i've finally went 'fuck it' and forcibly grabbed my laptop. I will get this done in one sitting even if it kills me.

BUT. This is about neither clone^2 danny nor about who i am calling Ocarina Batman. This is about my Danyal Al Ghul Au and more SPECIFICALLY it's me thinking about his relationship with Sam and Tucker specifically.

Tucker and Sam? Adore this asshole (affectionate) with every fiber of their being. And it is very much a reciprocated feeling, but Danny's thoughts will not be delved into much other than he would kill for them.

Tucker? The only person currently capable of getting a deep, loud, belly laugh out of Danny. Sam can get him to smile and to laugh, but it's the kind that's a chuckle-under-the-breath. The quiet, looks-down-while-huffing laughter. Snorts once with laughter and then grins stupidly.

But Tucker? Tucker can crack a slew of stupid jokes and Danny will be incapacitated for the next five minutes because he's laughing so hard that he can't breath. He lands one well-timed pun or quip and Danny will be close to tears. His laughter is their favorite sound in the whole world.

Sam is lowkey jealous of this ability, and she's gotten a belly laugh out of Danny a few times. But alas, it is Tucker who wields this power and has gotten it the most times out of the two of them.

-

They're also both physically affectionate with Danny as much as possible. It started roughly around when they were 12-ish, a year since they befriended Danny, and they noticed that he sought after touch but never seemed to initiate (and was in some ways repulsed by it). They started slowly being more touchy with him. Hooking a finger around his to lead him somewhere, tapping his wrist, looping arms. Little touches, grabs, etc, to get him used to it, and once he started doing it back they started increasing it.

It's gotten to a point where he will now just. Lay on them. Like a lizard sunbathing on a rock. Leaning on their backs when they're sitting in class before the bell rings, his chin on their heads. He'll talk about anything with his arms looped around their shoulders.

If they're sitting on a couch at either of their houses, he'll lay his legs on theirs. Him and Tucker will press their feet against the other's and try and push against them (newsflash: Danny always wins, Tucker claims its the ghost strength but Danny's been winning since before his accident)

-

Naturally, both Sam and Tucker know where Danny keeps his weapons on his person, and are allowed to grab them off of him if they need it. His only requirement is that they don't lose his weapons if they take it and forget to return it immediately.

They both understand how big of a thing this is from Danny, and so they do their best to treat his weapons with a lot of respect and care because they know its his way of saying he trusts them.

-

Sam and Tucker are so fond of Danny it's insane. Like fr. That's their goddamn best friend, and they are so protective of him. Emotionally, physically, you name it. They will tear the head off a grown man if they need to, Danny's had scars since he arrived in Amity Park and Sam and Tucker both are going to find the person who put them there and make them pay for it.

One time, Tucker overheard a bunch of upperclass girls speaking nastily about Danny and about the rumors surrounding him, calling him names like 'freak', 'monster', etc. Danny was with him and heard it, and seemingly appeared unbothered by it, even telling Tucker that he was used to such rumors.

Tucker was so furious that hacked into the school system later that night and tanked those girls grades. They were kicked out of their clubs and had to go to mandatory tutoring for the rest of the year. He made sure to leave some way of letting them know it was him who did it.

And Sam doesn't like using her money for things, doesn't like abusing that wealth. So instead, whenever her parents talk bad about Danny, she causes a media incident that has her parents scrambling to deal with. She does something wild, outrageous by her parents' standards.

She heard some boys on the basketball team making fun of Danny once, similar to those girls had. She kicks up a fuss about something eco-unfriendly at school and forcibly holds a protest on the same day of the big home basketball game, forcing them to cancel the event and reschedule to a visiting school.

She anonymously donates money so that there's new uniforms for the team but oops! Looks like she "forgot" to donate enough money for them to get uniforms for all the team members, and strangely enough those boys in particular didn't get them! Looks like they'll have to wait until more money gets donated for the basketball team to get their new, nice uniforms. The old ones look so ratty in comparison, right?

And since the football team gets most of the sport money, that might just take awhile. And if (and when) they kick up a fuss? oops! Off the basketball team you go, :) such unsportsman-like behavior is unfit for the team.

(The only good thing about how corrupt the school system is is that she can use it to her advantage too.)

The both of them know that Danny suspects them for the sudden misfortune falling on these people, but he doesn't call them out on it. He's kinder than he used to be, but not kind enough to vouch for people who speak badly of him. Sometimes, he might just congratulate them on not getting caught.

Because Danny is their wonderful, hurt friend with a "slightly" Blue and Orange Moral code, and enough scars that people have been calling him a criminal (and worse) since he arrived in Amity Park when he was ten. And they'll be damned if he gets hurt anymore.

[frownyalfred]

Titans has too many good moments 💔 it definitely has its faults and when I say that I mean it but I really loved Bruce and Dick’s relationship in there 😭

Like what do you mean Dick spends the entire show bitching rightfully about Bruce while always wearing the jacket Bruce wore the night they met at the circus

[river-bottom-nightmare]

bruce “piles my entire moral framework onto dick’s shoulders and blames him when either one of us buckles under it bc i know deep down he’s the only one that’ll forgive me for it” wayne