#i was writing this and fell asleep

[crabboytahomaru]

4am zool thoughts (not just Tora I promise)

Torao probs slept with people so much bc he was lacking in proper human connection and love and tried to satisfy it that way

He's used to having women hang off his arm, but now it's a 17yr old high school student whose rambling about the latest stupid thing his classmate did

He's used to taking people on classy dates in high end restaurants

He goes with minami to a local restaurant and watches mina happily scarf down like 5 bowls of ramen.

He foots the bill, as a gentleman does, but then mina nudges him and asks him, am I not a gentleman too? And so they take turns every time to pay for each other.

Instead of spending his nights in the embrace of a woman, they're all at toumas house watching one of minas horror movies.

'haru, are you scared? It's alright if you are, it's meant to be scary' touma would tell haru kindly and haru would reply: 'W-Who said I was scared!?', curling up closer to touma regardless.

Tora would mention to mina how cute he was as a child, to which mina would tease and say aren't I just as charming now?

He has his precious people now, he doesn't mind being used by them

He'd take them to amusement parks and buy haru the merch. He remembers one time where haru placed Minnie mouse ears on top of toumas head, claiming that it suit him.

Using fast passes, haru practically dragged them to every ride there, mina being the only person who could sit with him on every one. Touma got exhausted after the first 3 in a row (and to his credit, tried to stay with haru as long as possible) and Tora amicably sat out on every ride that haru would let him (oh my, do we have a scaredy cat on our hands? Mina would always tease)

When haru slapped his report card on the table in minas house, his chest puffed out proudly at his rising grades, Touma couldn't help but ruffle the kids hair affectionately. Haru blushed and announced he didn't need such childish gestures, but everyone knew how happy he was to be praised.

Sometimes haru would walk into their practice room, hair all disheveled due to pulling an all nighter for a test - which he did revise for properly by the way, mina would have killed him otherwise, he just wanted to double check the content.

Mina, sitting on the floor, would gesture for haru to sit in front of him and would comb through his hair, insisting that idols needed to stay presentable at all times.

Haru would be little apprehensive at first, not wanting it to hurt, but mina was gentle, taking his time with any knots.

Sometimes, after watching some of minas horror movies, haru would get just a little bit scared and would have mina read aloud to him whatever book he was reading at the time to lull him to sleep.

Zool, when sleeping over at a members house, would get out futons for each member, but half the time they never get used. Most of the time they'd pile into the members bed.

Whenever there's the possibility of sleeping over, more often than not it's toras house that's suggested first, solely bc his bed is massive enough it could probably fit 4 adult men no problem.

[deserthusbands]

cody, showing obi-wan his bucket, where the tooka kitten had decided to curl up: how does this keep happening?

obi-wan, peering in, only to chuckle fondly: well, dear. it does look like the cat has claimed it as its own.

cody: but it’s so small and cramped..

obi-wan: well, your little friend doesn't seem to have a problem with either– he's ‘vibrating’ again.

cody, sighing: i guess. but he can't have my bucket forever. i need it more than he does.

obi-wan: something tells me he would disagree,

[itneverendshere]

a circus ain't a love story - baby daddy! rafe.

request: "baby daddy! rafe where reader and rafe are not together and she’s going on dates with men and he’s jealous but not like possessive jealous but like 🤭 jealous?" @zyafics

warnings: cursing; rafe's an asshole but he's just going through it <3; a lil angsty??; lots of tension and pent-up frustration; they just need to fuck it out honestly.

rafe likes to think of himself as a changed man. 

long gone is the reckless impulsive guy that reigned horror in the outer banks. he’s grown now, the man of the family, and a father. he spends his days working hard, providing for his family, and cherishing every moment with his baby girl. 

but when he learns you’ve been seeing other men after your ‘amicable’ breakup, he feels like he’s nineteen and ranging in misplaced anger all over again. younger days, when his temper ruled his actions and consequences were an afterthought.

old insecurities resurface, whispering doubts and fears into his mind.

you’d broken up before, years ago, and it barely lasted a month before both of you caved in. but now? now, you have a baby together, and for some reason, the breakup feels…permanent. 

he thought you just needed a breather from him, a little space to settle your mind after going through all the changes with your pregnancy. maybe he took you for granted, maybe he became too comfortable, too complacent in the belief that your love was unshakeable. and he’s paying for it. 

“where the fuck are you going?”

he knows exactly where you’re going, he’s just a masochist.

rafe’s always been vocal about his thoughts around you, having virtually no filter between his brain and mouth. it’s something you’ve gotten used to after five years in a relationship, the man is nothing if not blunt and crass. but now, it's different.

you’re not a couple anymore. you shouldn't have to put up with his nagging bullshit. but you have a child together, which means that you’ll never be able to fully scratch him out of your system. 

how were you so good before and yet so terrible once your daughter got here? 

you sigh, choosing to keep your back to him. 

“date.”

you hear him snort, not even having to peek to know he’s shaking his head, blue eyes lingering between your new dress and the ceiling, “my bad. thought you were going to a gala.”

you turn then, hand on your waist as you take him in. it’s hard not to stare at his freshly shaved hair and it only makes you want to slap him stupid for not doing it years ago. what’s the point if you can’t have him? 

“why? it’s not illegal to put in effort.” you tilt your head slightly, ignoring the way his eyes are burning holes through your shiny legs.

he pulls his eyes back to your face, but all you can see is the imprinted vision of your daughter laying on his chest earlier, her chubby cheek pressed against his shirt and her little hand curled around his finger. 

rafe’s heart clenches, the bitterness of your words sinking deep into his bones. he knows what you're implying, knows that you're trying to hurt him.

“he’s worth all that, huh?”

you shrug your shoulder, pieces of your hair falling back as you attempt to act nonchalantly, “maybe he is.”

rafe’s lips twitch into a half-smirk, half-grimace, a familiar expression that used to make your heart race but now just knots your stomach.

“who is it this time? it’s just kinda hard to keep track of your dates.”

his gaze lingers on you, searching for something, perhaps a hint of the girl he fell in love with, buried beneath layers of resentment and exhaustion.

you grit your teeth, the frustration growing beneath the surface threatening to spill over, “you don’t know him.”

he shakes his head, a humorless chuckle escaping his lips. “got yourself a touron?”

“don’t piss me off.”

he raises his hands in mock surrender. “i’m not trying to. just curious.”

“his name is mike.”

rafe's lips quirk into a sardonic smile as he hears the name. "mike, huh? sounds like a guy who sells insurance or teaches yoga on the weekends."

you shoot him a glare, unamused by his jest. "can you just be serious for once?"

catching sight of the offended look in your face, he adds, “it’s not my fault you keep choosing the ugly ones.”

you stare at him incredulously, “you don’t even know him!”

“hear me out, okay? if you’re ever going to give charlotte a sibling might as well—“

you’d throw the mug on your kitchen table at his head if charlotte wasn’t sleeping in the room next door.

“you think you’re so fucking funny don’t you?!” 

rafe hushes you, one of his hands rising to his lips, “what happened to no cursing in the house?”

your eye twitches, fingers itching to wrap themselves around his throat. “i’ll strangle you right here, rafe.”

“you got a new kink, mama?”

his ability to push your buttons has always been unparalleled, and it seems he's mastered the art even more since your breakup. he still manages to evoke a weird mixture of irritation and fondness within you.

“you can’t keep doing this. i like mike, maybe i want to date mike.”

rafe's expression shifts, his brows furrowing slightly as if your words have struck a chord. but then, just as quickly, his facade hardens again. he raises an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "i’m just trying to help. you said the exact same thing about whatever his fucking name was two months ago.”

you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “see! you’re trying to patronize me.”

“’m not.”

“right,” you mutter, rolling your eyes, “course you aren’t.”

his taunting smirk is more than a little infuriating. “i just doubt this guy is gonna stick around.”

“oh, so that’s it?” you prod him, laughing in his face, hands curling into tight fists. you get closer, staring him down as you look upwards. “we’re back to lying to each other now?”

rafe’s face is contorted into a grimace; eyebrows furrowed, and you can feel his steady breathing before he speaks.

”i can do this all day.” he scoffs, a bitter edge creeping into his voice, “i think the moment you tell him about charlotte he’s gonna run back to whatever hole he creeped out of. you think he wants to be a daddy?”

“who said he has to? that’s your job. maybe i just want to fuck him, you ever think about that?” the admission feels like a betrayal and a liberation all at once.

it’s a familiar dance you two have been doing since the breakup – hurling accusations and blame at each other like weapons in a war neither of you can win.

rafe’s smirk fades into a scowl as your words hit him like a slap in the face. he takes a step back, one of his hands instinctively rising in a placating gesture, but there's a defiant glint in his eyes that tells you he's not backing down without a fight. 

his jaw tightens, “now you’re just trying to get under my skin.”

you throw your hands up in despair, “it’s always about you, unbelievable.” 

you feel like your heart is being vacuumed into your stomach as he stares.

“me?” his fingers dig into his chest, as if you’ve shot him right there, “you're the one who's constantly bringing up other guys, rubbing it in my face like- like i'm supposed to just sit back and take it."

you let out a slow controlled breath and attempt to loose your body movements. “we’re not doing this again.”

rafe knows he's treading on thin ice, but relents, “oh, m’sorry sweets. forgot you hate to be reminded i care.”

“care?” you laugh but it’s void of any humor, “is this your way of showing me you care? making me miserable? slut-shaming the mother of your daughter?”

“didn’t mean it like that, don’t twist my words.”

you square your shoulders, refusing to let him see the cracks in your armor. "you said what you said, and you can't take it back."

his jaw clenches, and you can almost hear the gears turning in his mind as he searches for the right words to say, “you’re pushing it.”

there’s a fiery anger in your eyes that makes his body warm. “so fucking what?”

without a word, rafe closes the distance between you, his movements tentative yet purposeful. his hand reaches out, fingers gripping your cheeks, his rough touch sending your body into a frenzy. you want to push him away, but the pull between you is too strong to resist. you’ve been yearning for his touch for months, no one knows how to pull your strings like he does.

“you drive me fucking insane, y’know that?”

you merely blink, pretending to be bored, “go fuck yourself.”

and then, in a rush of pent-up desire and frustration, rafe snakes a hand around the back of your head to pull you to meet him in a passionate kiss.

it’s all sorts of desperate as if trying to bridge the problems between you, you're arching into him as his hand trails down your spine. his tongue is brushing across yours in a tentative swipe before you’re meeting him halfway, kissing him urgently. there's a hunger in rafe’s touch, a desperation to reclaim what his lost, and you respond in kind, your hands roaming over his back, tracing the contours of his muscles with a familiarity that sends shivers down his spine.

“you’re not going on a fucking date.” he pants between kisses, the way his lips caress your face keeping you close distracting you momentarily.

“you can’t stop me.” 

his hand slides around your waist, over the curve of your ass, grabbing a handful in the process, “watch me.”

[ghastlybirdie]

Oops, thinking about...

+18, mdni

The fainting stinging sensation underneath your eyes from Simon rubbing the delicate skin raw, each tear caught in the pads of his thumbs as he wiped them away, his gruff voice seemingly eons away as static filled your ears.

Simon tangled your legs over his shoulders, your joints and muscles too taut to move them down on your own without your brute of a man manhandling you again, your limbs shaking where they were hooked while Simon let primitive instincts take over his body.

His hips rolled, bucked, pounded into you for who knows how long, his cock filling your cunt in a way you couldn't fathom, though your mind has run clear of all coherent thoughts and senses the moment Simon's mouth was on yours once he came home.

But it felt like the ground crumbled right beneath you when your legs shook and voice wavered for the umpteenth time, the reddening mark on Simon's shoulder growing deeper from where you planted your teeth, your orgasming growing again and again- Only from Simon to slow down and pull himself most of the way out, pussy convulsing in a painful ache with another ruined orgasm.

If you weren't already crying then you most definitely would now. Your hands clawed at his thighs and arms that boxed you inside of his frame, words having lost all sense, eyes pleading for something yet he coo'ed at you as if he could understand your desperation. Of course he did. He heard you before he ruined your makeup and hair, before he ruined your smart brain, before he sunk himself inside of you.

"We have to be safe, lovie." was what he said. That's what he always says. And you understand that well and good but even the "barest skin" of condoms never felt close enough. You just wanted to feel him, feel all of him, but he always insisted. It made sense in the beginning, when you two were just strangers between mutuals. But it's been months now and you feel starved of touch even as he's leaving you boneless and overstimulated underneath him. Yet despite how easily he pulls tremors and moans from you, the thin barrier separating the two of you leaves you stuck in an ouroboros teeter, on the edge of ecstasy and despair, your mind unable to pull logic and pleasure together.

A jolt of electricity spiked up your spine as your clit was bumped ever so gently, the Brit pulling out fully with wet, sloppy squelches as the stretched condom pulled itself off partway, tears falling fresh on your face from feeling so utterly empty.

Your hands wandered over the expanse of muscle and pudge to ground yourself, fingers digging into his skin as you mumbled pleads of your desperations, letting his lips press to your temple as you snaked a hand between your thighs. Seeking, searching, you feel slick rubber first, a pitiful whine leaving you when you pulled at the condom weakly.

If it wasn't for the lustful haze clouding your mind you would of seen the feigned mercy give way to a smile coated in glee as he purred in your ear, letting you desperately roll away the condom to toss aside, before sinking himself inside of you again.

Every ounce of air left your lungs while Simon buried his cock to the hilt, walls clenching down around him leaving your body vibrating, overstimulation forcing your mouth open in silent whines and eyes rolling back, Simon's hips picking up with a frantic pace again, his face tucked away in your neck.

Static flooded your senses once more, the mumbled praises Simon let out into your ear lost to your own ragged moans filling the room, nails sinking into his muscles to ground yourself even for a moment as the eruption of denied orgasms finally crash down onto you, spots filling your vision. Only when you felt a warmth fill inside of you did your limps lax and a weak exhale leave you, did you bathe in the closeness, the intimacy that Simon finally gifted you despite how soft he has gotten and how hot his breath felt on your sticky skin.

You'll have to hide away the box of rubbers from now on. This was all too good to let go just yet.

I just can't stop thinking about how much you want Simon to just skip a rubber and go in raw. Of course he wants to, he just wants to be a menace first before he ruins you

I cant finish this one so uh here you go lol

[poughkeepsies]

"experiences like this, they change us. so what changed in you?" is so underrated as a piece of buddie dialogue cause it's genuinely so. fucking tender and loving and understanding. it was eddie acknowledging all the ways buck felt changed by his death and not only validating them but also asking to know those new pieces so he can learn them and love them just the same as every other part of buck. something something if to change is what you need you can change right next to me. I love you to the core.

[shitouttabuck]

this could be the year for the real thing

buck/eddie | 1.7k | 7x06 coda(ish)

Eddie can count on one hand the number of times he’s been this horrifically hungover. His pre-teenage-pregnancy body bounced back blessedly quickly from tailgate parties and keg stands and beer pong tournaments, but after that? His cousins threw his bachelor party before he married Shannon, which involved a lot of mixed liquor, and then there were a couple miserable nights out after she left him, and now, last night, him and Buck the sole bachelor party members standing after Chim didn’t show up.

This is his worst hangover, because at least all the other times he wasn’t seized with worry about one of his closest friends and regret that he and Buck hadn’t noticed the empty hotel bed the night before. The nausea from hell doesn’t help, either.

Chim’s safe now, under the careful monitor of Cedars hospital staff and Maddie no more than three feet away from him at all times. The relief is a palpable thing, and Buck offering him a steaming paper cup of green tea soothes the churning in his gut a little bit, too.

He takes a sip and sighs gratefully, slumping against Buck in the hospital waiting room chairs when he takes the seat beside Eddie.

“Still queasy?” Buck asks, voice a rumble.

“Mm,” Eddie says, “back-to-back shots of tequila and sambuca are not it.”

Buck shudders beside him. “Don’t,” he begs, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. “I’m still very much in range of hurling.”

“Have you eaten anything today?” Eddie’d only managed half a banana when he went home to shower and change, but he knows Buck’s been with Maddie most of the day, and when it comes to taking care of other people, he sometimes forgets about himself.

“Had a granola bar,” Buck says, eyes still closed. “Can’t—don’t wanna think about food yet.”

His stomach chooses then to grumble audibly, with traitorously comedic timing, and Eddie snorts. Buck opens one eye to grin at him.

“Don’t listen to her,” he says, patting his belly. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“She doesn’t, huh? Then I guess she’s not interested in stopping by the juice bar on Sunset on the way home? Some sweet, sweet smoothies, all that fresh fruit and hydration, don’t even have to chew…”

Buck’s stomach rumbles interestedly and they both laugh.

“That sounds—so good, actually,” Buck admits. “We can pick up the peanut butter one for Chris, he’s always hankering—”

He breaks off as Hen appears at the end of the hallway, looking around and hurrying over as soon as she spots them. Eddie doesn’t think anything’s wrong—she’s beaming—but he and Buck sit up quickly in their seats anyway.

“Ugh,” Buck says, and Eddie’s dizziness at the sudden movement wholeheartedly agrees.

“We’re having a motherfucking wedding,” Hen grins, tugging them both to their feet, uncaring of their delicate dispositions. “Right here, right now.”

“Hospital wedding?” Buck asks, eyes wide. “Holy shit, okay, what do we need—who do we call—fuck—”

“Calm down, Buckaroo,” Hen smiles. “Just get friends and family over here, Karen’s gonna pick up Maddie’s dress, I’m gonna call Bobby, and we’re having a wedding.”

Buck’s already pulling up a copy of the guest list on his phone, squinting at it and muttering names under his breath.

“You boys got this?” Hen asks while dialling Bobby.

“Yep,” Eddie gives her a mock salute. “We’ll split the list and make some calls.”

He types out half the names Buck reads off to him in his notes app, and the two of them work through them methodically, calling Chim and Maddie’s nearest and dearest for this impromptu ceremony.

“Chris will kill us if he misses it,” he says suddenly, and Buck looks up at him, mid-text.

“He’s with Isabel, right? Pepa’s place is only a ten minute drive from here.”

Eddie nods. “I don’t have my car, though. You drove me.”

Buck tosses him the Jeep keys. “I’ll finish calling people, you go get them.”

“Cool,” Eddie says, and nearly bodies himself with the instinctive urge to lean over and kiss Buck on the cheek as he stands. It’s surprising, even though it shouldn’t be, because it’s an urge he fought and failed about thirty times last night, Buck’s sweaty skin pressed to his, salty under his mouth every time he dropped an innocuous, friendly kiss to his face with nothing but alcohol in his veins.

It hadn’t seemed out of place then, everything shiny and bright, Buck leaning right back into him.

Now, under the fluorescents of the hospital, organising a makeshift wedding for their family? Eddie doesn’t think it would land quite the same.

“Back in twenty,” he tells Buck instead, and has to physically tear himself away from the smile Buck turns his way, warm and golden under the harsh lights.

Chris and Abuela are delighted to be included, and, true to his word, they’re back at the hospital as the rest of the guests begin arriving, too.

Eddie’s—okay, he’s not going to say he’s not a crier, it’s just that his best friend is Buck, who cries at anything remotely tearjerky, so in comparison, Eddie’s not a crier. Now, though, they’re both very much damp-cheeked, much like everyone else crowded into this hospital room, watching Maddie and Chim exchange rings and vows with little Jee between them.

They’re a family, have been and would still be even if they never got hitched, but the fact that Chim refused to wait another few weeks, another few days, another minute before marrying Maddie? Eddie’s chest aches in the best way, and he slings an arm around Chris, and, before he knows he’s doing it, he looks for Buck.

The ceremony’s over, and Buck’s grinning at his phone, and Eddie pats for his own automatically, anticipating a goofy text.

But Buck’s edging backward, slipping out of the room, still grinning at his phone, and the ache inside Eddie spreads like an inkstain, blotting his insides.

And then Buck reappears with Tommy, which Eddie knew he was going to do, because who else would have Buck smiling at his phone like that, leaving his sister’s wedding even for a minute. Not me, Eddie doesn’t think. He doesn’t.

He’s not ready to make sense of the churning inside him—he doesn’t think he can blame the hangover for this one—when he clocks Tommy’s soot-stained everything and the way Buck’s own smudgy face matches like a puzzle piece.

He sees the way Chim notices, and Hen and Karen, Bobby’s eyes going wide and then soft. He sees the way Margaret Buckley doesn’t even attempt to school her face into anything but distaste and he hates her, but Buck’s not even looking at her. He’s looking at Bobby, and then he’s looking at Chim, and he’s smiling, this wide, guileless spread of happiness across his face.

Eddie’s helpless to smile too, the churning too complicated to parse beyond easy joy at every step of Buck’s sexuality journey, and this second-hand relief he’s not sure he’s got any entitlement to—he doesn’t, does he? Sure, he can be relieved that Buck doesn’t feel like he has to stay closeted, that everyone who matters loves him just the same, but he doesn’t get to feel like any of the relief belongs to him. Not now.

Not—yet.

Tommy’s made his way to Chim’s bedside to congratulate them properly, and Buck’s squeezing through the guests to get to the Diazes.

“Hey, bud,” he says to Chris. “Hi, Isabel.”

His face is still a smear of soot, and Chris giggles. “Buck. Your face.”

Buck frowns in confusion and Eddie steps over to him, hand already reaching to wipe the soot off his face, just like he has a hundred times at work. Except Tommy’s already there, licking his thumb and rubbing firmly at Buck’s chin, a gesture so familiar to Eddie that watching it happen separate from him feels like getting punched in the throat.

And beside the joy and the second-hand relief, there’s—this sense of profound loss. This emptiness, a space inside him he didn’t realise Buck had been occupying all this time. And now it’s like Eddie’s entered the room, finally, but the door is swinging shut on the far wall and Buck’s footsteps are echoing softer and softer as he leaves. Eddie’s late, he’s missed something he didn’t know was waiting, much less had a timeline on it.

The room empties out slowly, everyone giving the Buckley-Hans some space to rest, and Buck disappears down the hall hand-in-hand with Tommy.

“Y’all ready to go home?” Eddie asks Abuela and Chris. “We can get take-out.”

“Is Buck coming?” Chris asks.

“Uh, I don’t think so, mijo,” Eddie glances down the hall. “Although—” he pats his pocket, retrieving the Jeep keys, and startles when Buck appears by his shoulder.

“You have my keys,” he informs Eddie, stretching his hand out for them. Eddie drops them in his palm dutifully. “Juice bar? The fancy one on Sunset.”

Chris whoops excitedly, and Eddie smiles, even as his brow furrows.

“You’ve not got a hot date?” he asks Buck quietly as they walk to the exit.

“I drove you,” Buck shrugs.

Eddie rolls his eyes, stopping Buck with a hand at his elbow. “I think we can manage getting a cab.”

“I seem to recall you promising me a ‘sweet, sweet smoothie,’” Buck says, raising an eyebrow at Eddie. “You tryna stiff me, Eds?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Eddie lifts his hands in surrender. “Uh—do you wanna ask Tommy along?”

“Nah,” Buck says easily. “Maybe another time. He’s just gotten off shift. I’m seeing him tomorrow, anyway.”

“Okay,” Eddie nods slowly, ache bittersweet. “Just us, then.”

Buck beams. “Me and my boys,” he crows, wrapping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and tugging him forward so he can wrap the other one around Chris. Isabel makes a noise of offense, and Buck hastily amends, “Me and my boys and Abuela. Dream team!”

Christopher groans at the very public embarrassment and Abuela smiles indulgently at Buck and Eddie lets himself get pulled along, safe in this room in his heart that won’t ever be empty, even if Buck’s not filling it in the same capacity as Eddie’s getting ready to allow himself to want.

It doesn’t matter. The door on the far wall’s not quite swung shut after all; it sits ajar, crack of light and Buck’s love spilling through. Maybe one day he’ll come back through it. Maybe one day Eddie’ll follow after him enough to ask.

[msbrightsides]

H-O-T-T-O-G-O,

I-Am-Going-To-Die-Alone!

[astrobei]

mike developing a propensity for laying with his head on will’s chest while they’re alone because he likes listening to will’s heartbeat and feeling how solid and steady and safe will is under him — we know her, we love her, i will be thinking about this concept until i die.

more specifically, though, the first time they fall asleep this way — mike, dozing off on will’s chest, feeling will’s heartbeat slow and his breathing even out and jolting awake, panicked for the briefest second before he realizes what’s happening. the movement startles will awake too. he blinks and looks up, a little disoriented, only to find mike staring down at him with wide eyes, because the realization has just struck him: not only is will safe and okay in a physical sense, but he feels safe around mike — he’s happy and comforted and trusts mike enough to fall asleep next to him. being absolutely bowled over by that conclusion vs. will who thinks mike is so stupid for ever assuming it was a question at all

[luvrxbunny]

joel would fuck you silly then force you to ride him so he can watch you struggle

this was supposed to end before the cut 😭

“c’mon, baby. you’re never gonna get me t’cum like that.” he grips your hips roughly and fucks you relentlessly for just a second. “like that. okay?” he asks and let’s go. you nod to him eagerly, trying your best to fuck him the way he wants but your brain too mushy to follow through with the action.

you lift yourself on his cock and your legs tremble as you hold yourself up before you drop back down. the shock that runs through your stomach as his dick slides right against your g-spot has you collapsing onto him. your hands wrap around his neck without a second thought, so used to him taking over and helping you. but his hands are tucked behind his head and you can barely fit your hands. “joel—“

you drag out the syllables of his name like a whine and he chuckles at you, heating up your stomach with embarrassment. “what, darlin’?” you whine at his southern drawl, at the pet name and bury your face in his chest. “i need your help. can’t- i can’t do it on my own.” you pout and look up at him, hoping your puppy dog eyes are working properly.

judging but the shuddering sigh that falls his lips we can assume they were working. his hands come to your hips and slam you onto his cock at a painful pace. his eyes are focused on where the two of you connect and little grunts are falling from his lips. “such a fuckin’ princess. can’t do anythin’ for y’self, huh?”

his words have you clenching on his cock, giving a tremble to his voice that only pushes you closer to the edge. “n-need everyone to do stuff for you, hmm? too prissy to put any work in?” you shake your head at him with a moan. “m’just too weak ri-right now, joey. don’ be mean.” your voice is a light whine in his ear as you cling to him.

“mhm. it’s okay darlin’.” his hand comes to cradle the back of your head and his ear gets close to yours. “love that you need my help so bad. can’t get off without me— can’t please yourself the way i can.” his hand grips your jaw and forces your eyes to his “you need me”

his brow furrows as he tries not to cum at the way your eyelids flutter and your hand comes around to play with your clit “i’ll always need you.” he nods at you with a low groan as you squeeze his cock.

he stops moving in you, letting you clench around him as you play with your clit. he holds your face in place and watched how it contorts with pleasure, how your expression becomes more pained and watery the more you suffocate his cock. his eyes look you up and down once, gauging how close you are and that’s what breaks the tension building in your stomach.

the second you’re squeezing around him he groans your name into your face, his head leans forward to crash your lips together as he slowly fills you with his cum. he tenses and twitches against you as he does, muttering a small sounds that resemble “my fuckin’ princess. so perfect f’me” as he thrusts into you.

[suddencolds]

just read this snippet in a vanilla fic where character A sneezes and character B unthinkingly lends them their jacket. only, A realizes after the jacket is on that it's feverishly warm, and they lean over and feel B's forehead... 😵‍💫

what lack of self preservation would you need to have to lend someone your jacket so unthinkingly when you're the one with a fever?! also to feel someone's fever through the residual warmth of a clothing article?? the scene will not leave my mind

[hurricanesfollowyou]

Hey girl, come over we’re having a little get together, we’ll take you for pizza…after…

and look how pleased they look with themselves. so they should 😏

[slamminslamminmcgill]

hi so like fucking joel would include him manhandling you bc he’s strong enough to treat you like a sex doll. picking you up and throwing you down in all different configurations, sex positions with no names you can think of. pulling your legs however he needs to get the deepest possible angle. both of your holes are soaking wet and at this point it’s hard to tell one from the other; which was taking his cock and which was stuffed with the $10 dildo he got from spencers. you’re grabbing a pillow and howling to his entire apartment building until he says—

“shhh, shh, shh…”

—in just the sweetest, most soothing tone of voice. it calms you right down. plus shoving your whole face in the pillow definitely helps with your volume. joel’s quiet tho. he’ll give a few grunts and oh’s every now and then but they’re few and far between. when he DOES talk to you it’s instructions.

“ass up, legs together”

“on your side”

“yeah, c’mon now, cum on my cock. squirt for me, baby, give it to me y-oh, there we go, such a good boy...”

as soon as he pulls out you fall flat on your stomach, landing with enough of an impact to feel the mattress springs bounce beneath you. you get a few seconds to breathe, panting with a dry throat that’s raspy from screaming at him to keep stretching your asshole out. but that’s all behind you now, right?

then you feel two big hands pulling your ass cheeks apart, and a cool breeze flicking across your gape. joel whistles in admiration.

“look at that pretty hole… good boy.”

and rather than letting you recover, he just climbs on top of your limp body and sticks his cock in your gaping ass to fuck you pronebone style.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 57)

N watched a Uzi stared down at the scan results in complete silence. Her eyelights hollow, stress lines underneath them and one of her hands covering her mouth. She trembled as she seemed to check and recheck the same section of the blueprint over and over.

“Uzi… what's wrong?” He asked, sitting down beside her on the bed and putting a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes drifted over to him as she gripped his arms tightly, burying her face into his sleeve. He couldn't see her visor, but he could tell she'd started to cry, with the sobs rocking her body.

Worry wracked his being, and he wrapped her in an embrace as she had an emotional breakdown on him, gripping onto him as tightly as she could, Tera was clinging to her leg, also looking worried but unable to vocalize it.

“I-I'm- N…” She choked out, struggling to explain what she'd seen, N was patient, holding one of her hands and squeezing while the other stroked her back.

“I'm pregnant”

He felt his entire body freeze. Shock overtaking him as he ran her words through his processors several times to make sure he'd heard her right.

“W-what?” His voice wavered and he blinked, he only knew what that word meant from his time at the manor, humans could grow other humans inside them, and he'd seen a few pregnant women inside the manor before… which had to mean.

“We're… having a baby?” It was phrased as a question only because he was still incredulous, Uzi looked up at him, nodding, tears in her eyes and looking as if she didn't know weather to smile or look horrified.

“Oh. Oh my robo-god. Uzi… we're… we're gonna have a baby!” A grin bloomed across his face as he pulled her in closer, if she was encompassed by him before, she was melding into him now.

It took a moment of him squeezing her, but before she could react he was pulling back and then leaning back in to capture her lips in his own, and Uzi found herself melting into it, eyelights closed as tears seeped from them, she was… happy? Terrified? It's like she was feeling every single emotion at once.

When he pulled away he was holding both sides of her face, looking into her eyelights with both a smile and golden tears dripping from the inside of visor, he pushed hair out of her face and pet her cheek.

Seeing him so happy with the news quelled her darker thoughts, there was no question if N would be there for her or not (and there should never have been one, either.) But she still felt worried, extremely so.

There had never been a Worker/Dissasembler hybrid before, and drone pregnancies were… mild. Low energy, weakness, core flutters. Those were all normal, and while yes she had all of these, she also had more.

The dizziness, the nausea, the vomiting, the trances, and the hunger. Oh robo-god, was she hungry, oil only seemed to help so much with that, she craved… something. Something she couldn't pinpoint and no amount of drone safe snacks could satiate.

And she was… only eighteen. They had Tera already… but… another newborn? Something that was part her and part N? That was scary… she didn't know if she was ready for that.

“I'm… scared N.” The words that would otherwise be damaging to her pride wasn't so much when only spoken to N. His face fell as he took in her face, realizing that the tears he mistook for joy and nervousness, were actually from fear.

“Uzi… Hey, everything's going to be fine.” He turned to comforting her, his tail finding her leg and wrapping around it, pushing her into his chest as he purred, it was meant to be soothing, and it was.

“I'm- We're so young N.”

“Yeah… but we already have Tera. It's not like we're… stupid kids.” He pointed out, near whispering into her audio receptors, he took a glance at their daughter, asleep, curled up near her mothers legs, gripping onto her bat plushie like a lifeline.

He had a point, it wasn't as if they were going to be flying blind into what taking care of a baby was like, but it didn't seem to slow the flurry of emotions swirling in her systems.

“I shouldn't be- why am I getting so many symptoms?” She wasn't sure why she was asking him, it was unlikely he would know.

“Is this not normal?” He asked cocking his head as he tenderly moved his hand down to her midsection, ghosting over it.

“N-no! I shouldn't be throwing up or… watching the room spin!” His hand resting where it was had a calming effect, the warmth of it radiating off his hand and into her internals.

“No other drone is as… fleshy. You saw what's in there, you're partly organic… maybe it is normal, just normal for you.” He suggested, intended to calm her nerves but it just made her nerves spiral more.

“Is something gonna come out of me?!” She freaked out a little bit, imagining a sort of Alien ‘chest burster’ scenario where some freaky flesh baby exploded out of her.

“Okay, I doubt whatever situation you're imagining is going to happen.” N seemed to detect she was freaking herself out and placed his head into the crook of her neck, now resting both hands on her midsection.

“Look, I don't know how the solver-flesh-mutation thing works, but if you are-” he paused, rubbing a hand over her midsection, making her blush at the contact. “-growing something, then whatever gave you that ability would also give you the ability to get them out right?”

She thought back to her wings, how they grew and pulsed a writhed until her chassis gave way and they burst out of her, and she was about to open her mouth to say ‘it didn't’ before she realized that while yes… her wings coming in hurt like a bitch. She did have new compartments to store them away in, and she'd mostly healed afterwards.

So she could kinda see what he was getting at.

“And we don't know if you even are. Your organic parts could be just… reacting to it like they were in something that does work like that.” He finished, nuzzling softly into her neck.

Uzi pondered his words, spurred on by his purring, his nuzzling, and the attention he was giving her midsection, she felt the spiral she was beginning to plummet down start to lift. She hummed, nervous, but coming down to a manageable level.

“Anyone ever told you you're smarter then you look?” She asked with a wary smirk, causing N to chuckle into her shoulder and lift his head slightly.

“Not until now. No. But maybe some of your smarts rubbed off on me.” He quipped back, kissing into her neck gently and making her smile genuinely for the first time that night. She placed her hand over his and let them both rest there, N was rubbing his thumb over her rubber so she rubbed her thumb over his hand.

“We'll just keep an eye on you, okay? And whatever you need, I'll get it for you.”

Next ->

[thatbuddie]

sibyl!!! @sibylsleaves!!! i need you to know i have ideas for all the prompts you sent me. aaaaaaaah!!! (which is why i'm not yet posting your ask because i'm holding onto it hoping it'll encourage me to get to the other prompts too lol.)

for now, here you go. this is for all too well (10 minute version). i hope you enjoy this one <3

(for every question why) you were my because

buddie | 3.4k | getting together, love confession

“Being boyfriends and being friends is really different,” Buck says, and Eddie wants to laugh at the fact that Buck is saying this to him. “But if you’re so okay being friends with him,” Eddie explains, “It means there wasn’t anything he did wrong while being your boyfriend. So I don’t understand why you broke up with him.” “I’ve told you before,” Buck says, and his voice sounds contained, like there is something he’s holding back. Is it anger? Is it an explanation? Is it, perhaps, both? “That Tommy didn’t do anything wrong. That’s why I’m okay with us being friends. I didn’t break up with him because he did anything wrong.” Eddie opens his arms wide and then lets them drop down to hit the side of his thighs. “But then what happened? I just don’t understand. What happened?” “You! That’s what happened: You!” (or, Buck breaks up with Tommy but won’t talk about it, and Eddie just needs to know why.)

(read on ao3.)

[gayness-and-mayhem]

Father Mulcahy being a spin the bottle champion is something that's so important to me actually.

[bongo-clash]

If I had a nickel for every billionaire that tried to kidnap me, I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice

DP/DC week prompt: Mistaken Identity

'Look, in Bruce Wayne’s defence, he has a lot of children with black hair and blue eyes, and he’d had a very long day. But in Danny’s defence, he has no idea what’s happening right now and, according to his previous experience in being kidnapped by billionaires, his reaction is incredibly reasonable.'

(No content warnings || fic under cut!!)

-

Danny’s been in Gotham for about a week with his family, and so far it’s honestly been one of their most relaxing vacations to date. Sure, the drive had been long and finding a place to park the RV had been unsurprisingly difficult, but once the initial getting-there-fanfare was over with, everything had been great. The whole ‘not my circus, not my monkeys’ thing had been amazing for his anxiety. The famous Batman was more than capable of dealing with his peanut gallery without some random dead kid intercepting. 

Okay, he was a little bit worried about Batman’s ‘no metas’ thing, but there was no good reason the vigilante would find out that little tidbit. It’s not like he’s even a meta in the first place! Being dead is a medical condition. Regardless, he’s doing the sensible thing and not making a show of himself; he may have flown over the top of the city invisibly on the first night to get some good shots to send to his friends, but no one needed to know about that but Sam and her gothic-architecture-inspo wall. 

The hotel they’re staying at has good breakfast, the buildings in the inner city look cool as Hell, they already have heroes dealing with their issues so Danny doesn’t have to do anything, and there’s no ghosts barging into his room but the constant chaos of the city still feels homey. Overall, a ten out of ten vacation spot. 

Surely, nothing can go wrong. 

“Tim? What are you doing here?”

He’s taking a morning walk away from the hotel after he and Jazz successfully convinced their parents he would be fine on his own, and he’d stopped in front of Wayne Enterprises because Tucker would be frankly offended if he didn’t. He ignores the call at first, because he doesn’t know anyone named Tim, and it’s not his business, but that’s clearly shown to be a mistake when the call comes again but closer, and then again, but with a man putting his hand on Danny’s shoulder. He’s turns around to tell whoever it is to clear off when he actually catches sight of the guy’s face.

Sleek black hair, sky-blue eyes, a healthy tan and a very expensive suit. That’s Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne as in the guy who owns the building in front of them. Bruce Wayne as in the multi-billionaire. 

Okay, don’t get him wrong, Bruce Wayne does some pretty honourable charity work, and his tech is pretty cool and Tucker’s obsessed with it, but Danny has a very sour history with billionaires and even before he’d met Vlad he wasn’t a fan of them; being friends with Sam for long enough does that to a guy. Dealing with the fruitloop had only cemented what he already knew, and that’s that you shouldn’t trust people that rich as far as you can throw them (or, maybe just not at all, since he figures he could actually throw them pretty damn far, considering the ghost powers). 

Plus, Bruce ‘Brucie’ Wayne has this really weird habit of acting like a ditz, and quite frankly, Danny doesn’t buy it. He’s been successfully running a huge company and heading welfare campaigns for years, and if he’s truly as air-headed as he presents himself to be Vlad would’ve snatched up his company and his wealth in a heartbeat. Vlad, who is the other billionaire he knows, who is also pretending to be something he’s not with the whole ‘gentle hermit’ vibe he maintains with the press. No, there’s definitely something weird about Bruce Wayne and he hadn’t particularly wanted to meet the guy to find out what it is. 

However, it’s looking like he doesn’t have much choice, what with the man having a hand on his shoulder and being about ten inches from his face. “Uh.” He blurts eloquently. “Hi?”

“Tim,” He repeats, frowning. “Why are you here? I told you to take the day off- don’t tell me you were just planning on sneaking off to work anyway.”

Danny’s certain Tucker mentioned some co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises called Tim, and he’s fairly certain Tucker mentioned he was the same age as them and also Bruce’s ward, but do they really look similar? No one’s ever said they do to his face, and he thought that was the kind of thing people talked about- the whole ‘who’s your celebrity lookalike’. So why-?

…Tucker also mentioned that almost all of Bruce Wayne’s wards have the same black hair and blue eyes. He’d even joked how Danny ‘fit the bill’. Oh no. What if this is an obsession-with-having-a-son-just-like-him thing? Do all billionaires do that or is that just Vlad? He could really do with someone else to compare the guy to that isn’t the fruitloop right now- it’d be really great to have some kind of gauge amongst general average billionaire behaviour so that he actually knew what to do. 

Staying quiet to gather his thoughts was apparently not his greatest move, though, because the man’s frown only deepens. Bruce Wayne’s hand moves from the top of his shoulder to his arm, giving it a light squeeze that seems like it’s supposed to be comforting but really just makes him more nervous. “I’m taking you back to the manor. You were supposed to take a day off and I really think relaxing would do you some good.”

Now, there are a lot of things Danny could do to absolve this situation, and the smartest of all of them would be to inform him that there’s been a misunderstanding and that he’s just some random tourist who’d been wanting to take some pictures. 

“I— what- can’t you just leave me here? Don’t you need to go in there?” Is what he says instead, because fight, flight, or freeze apparently includes brain freeze too. His mom was right, he never should’ve been allowed out unsupervised. Why didn’t he bring Jazz with him?

“The meeting can wait, you’re more important.” The man soothes, and suddenly the hand on his arm is pulling him away, leading him over to an incredibly expensive car and Danny’s so bewildered by the whole situation he doesn’t even fight back. He stands there, limp, as Bruce Wayne opens the car doors, nudges him inside, starts the engine, and drives further and further away from Danny’s hotel. 

They’ve been driving for about twenty minutes before his stupor finally breaks, and by then they’ve fully left the bustle of the inner city and entered the sparsely populated realm of high society estates— Bristol, he thinks it was called? Doesn’t matter. He needs to get out and he needed to be out yesterday; he can’t believe he ever thought he could have a remotely sensible vacation. Let your guard down one time and you get kidnapped by a man with more money than everyone else in the state combined (though, to be fair, that sounds more normal given his circumstances than it should. Still, the billionaire being Bruce Wayne isn’t normal). 

Now, there are a lot of things Danny could do to absolve this situation, and the smartest of all of them would be tell Bruce Wayne that he’d been too shocked to refute the man, but he wasn’t actually his son, and had finally gathered his bearings to say so and was very sorry for causing him undue stress. 

Instead, Danny jumps out of a moving car. 

Distantly registering the yell of alarm and the screech of the vehicle pulling to a sudden stop, he tanks the roll and springs back up again, taking in his surroundings for all of a second before sprinting in the opposite direction of wherever they’d been going. Bruce Wayne is definitely chasing after him- he can hear the heavy footfalls pounding behind him- but Danny’s been running from his problems for years. There’s no way he’s letting them catch up to him now. 

He rounds a corner and disappears into thin air, because Batman’s not a day time hero so what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him and surely he’d get that Danny was only doing it for the sake of his personal safety. I mean, who’s he to say that Bruce Wayne doesn’t layer on his fortunes with the occasional ransom situation? …Maybe not the best excuse he’s ever come up with, but the damage is done now, and he drifts away for a few more minutes until he figures he’s far enough from his initial launch point that he can drop the invisibility. 

Looking around, he can tell that he’s definitely lost, his surroundings still reeking of big money and the actual meat of the city barely hanging on the horizon. Well, technically he’s not that lost, given that he can still see inner-Gotham from here, but he doesn’t know where the Hell his hotel is in all that grey, and the walk looks far. While he was willing to risk the momentary power-usage to get himself out of the billionaire’s sights, he figures that trying anything else would be pushing his luck a bit further than it was willing to take him. 

He must’ve been thinking about it for a lot longer than he realised, though, because he hears a quiet thud behind him, and there is now a vigilante blocking his exit. Long-ish black hair, an admonishing expression, and a black and blue outfit with a bird decal.

That’s one of the Bats. NIghtwing, he thinks? 

Aren’t they all supposed to be nighttime vigilantes?

As if hearing his questions, the taller man tuts, bringing his hands to his hips like his mom does when he breaks curfew. He hasn’t got out the electric-stick-things that he’s pretty sure the guy owns, so that’s good. “Tim,” He starts, tone starkly disappointed, and- hold on, why is Nightwing on a first name basis with the Wayne Enterprises CEO? “I thought B told you to take today off.”

Hold on, that’s a weird thing for a vigilante to know about the Wayne Enterprises CEO, and- Danny’s assuming B means Bruce Wayne- why is he using such a casual nickname for the billionaire? Do they know each other? He supposes it makes sense if they’re all in cahoots, since the Bats’ stuff does seem pretty expensive-looking, but he’d honestly kind of assumed Batman was just some rich reclusive vampire or something. Like Vlad but morally-reversed. 

Unless Batman is still a billionaire and not just funded by Bruce Wayne. Nightwing knowing the Tim guy would make sense, then, given they might see each other at rich people things. But, actually, would that make sense? Vigilante socialites don’t usually go around telling their other socialite friends that they’re vigilantes, do they?

Unless Batman is Bruce Wayne. But that’s ridiculous. He’d figured the guy was hiding something, and the hoard of children is kind of indicative of a weird guy generally, but the man being some kind of edgy bat-themed hero in his spare time was just too ridiculous. There’s no way. 

…

…Holy shit. Batman is totally Bruce Wayne. 

That means that Nightwing is probably one of Bruce Wayne’s many sons, which means that he’s one of Tim Drake-Wayne’s many brothers, which means Bruce Wayne may have called him to chase him down and bring him back to the manor. Even though they shouldn’t be doing that because he isn’t Tim Drake. 

Now, there are a lot of things Danny could do to absolve this situation, and the smartest of all of them would be tell Nightwing that by some hilarious comedy-of-errors, Bruce Wayne had mistaken him for his son Tim the CEO when he is in fact Danny Fenton the tourist, and he’s very sorry for the fuss he’s caused, but he should probably call his sister to pick him up now, thank you very much. 

Instead, Danny feints left and tries to dash out the corner he’d trapped himself in from Nightwing’s other side. Nightwing grabs him like a small dog with one arm and raises a grappling hook to the nearest roof. Danny feels like this is probably karma for all the property damage he’s caused in Amity as they’re flung violently across roofs higher than his town’s tallest apartment complex. He is quickly discovering that being airborne is actually so much worse when you’re not the one in control. 

He doesn’t have an awful lot of time to ponder this, however, because they reach what Danny assumes is the Wayne residence soon after. Nightwing does an absolutely terrifying set of flips as they careen over to the other side of the ledge the mansion is on, and lets him go when they’re on the ground to put a finger against his hear, presumably to some communication device. 

“I’ve got him, B! We’re outside the Batcave now- yep, all safe- see you in a sec!”

…They’re outside the what now?

Nightwing slings an arm over his shoulder- some mix of friendliness and making sure he doesn’t run away- and leads him into a concealed entrance against the ledge just beneath the Wayne mansion. 

He has to be hallucinating at this point. There are actual bats in here. The whole place is scary and dark and gigantic and—is that a fucking dinosaur?

“Tim!” 

And, as if just to cement how utterly absurd today has been, Bruce Wayne is striding towards them with an expression contorted by worry, and he feels bad right up until the moment the guy cups his face with his calloused hands (calloused because he’s Batman, what the Hell). “Tim, I was so worried,” He croaks. “What happened back there? Why did you jump out the car?”

Now, there are a lot of things Danny could do to absolve this situation, and finally, finally, he-

“What the Hell is happening right now.” He blurts, taking a sharp step back and letting the hand fall from his face, watching as surprise falls over the men next to him like an overcast. 

Okay, maybe not the the smartest thing he could’ve said, but not the worst thing either, and that’s probably the biggest win he’s going to get today, so he’ll take it. “What are you talking about?” Nightwing asks gently, reminding him rather neatly that he is still in an absolutely gigantic pile of shit, seeing as he’s now going to have to explain that they have all made some very big mistakes today. 

“Uh, okay, so funny story- and you have to promise not to like, beat the shit out of me or whatever-“ He ignores the horrified faces they make at that, nervousness leaking out into a hysterical laugh. “But, uh, a very bad thing has happened, and— it’s like, fine! I won’t tell anyone if you won’t tell anyone, it’s totally chill and I’m really great at keeping secrets-!”

Bruce Wayne cuts him off, looking terribly concerned. “Tim, whatever’s going on, we’ll-“

“I’m not Tim!”

The moment the words are out of his mouth, he backs away with his hands raised placatingly, panic heightened by the way the two men freeze in their tracks. “I am so sorry,” Danny chokes, figuring he can’t dig himself into any deeper of a grave than he already has. “I was just- I was outside Wayne Enterprises to take pictures and when you came up to me I had no idea what to do so I just froze, and by the time I came to I was in your car and like, I was kind of scared you were kidnapping me? Because I kind of have a history with billionaires and kidnapping so I just panicked and jumped out the car but that made everything worse ‘cause you chased me and now I’m in the Batcave and you’re Batman and-“

There is a very long pause when Danny’s words fail him. The Batcave is very quiet beyond the chittering of bats on the ceiling. 

“You have a history with billionaires and kidnapping?” Nightwing asks, like literally nothing else he’d said registered. 

Quite frankly, Danny does not want to know what their expressions are like. Averting his eyes, he replies- “That was definitely a weird thing for me to say. Sorry. Uh, yeah.”

“Are you safe?”

What is happening? “Like… right now? I mean, so long as you aren’t gonna feed me to that dinosaur then yeah; I’m just in Gotham for vacation. I don’t- it was a very nice vacation. Until like half an hour ago. Now it’s a stressful vacation.”

Bruce Wayne, to his credit, is not trying to kill him for his knowledge of the man’s secret vigilantism, which already makes him better than the only other billionaire he knows. The man drags a hand down his face, looking stressed beyond belief. “I should’ve known you weren’t Tim,” He breathes. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Yeah, now that I’m actually hearing you talk, you sound nothing like him. Bruce, were you actually listening when he was talking to you before you shoved him in the car? This guy’s midwestern. What happened to world’s greatest detective, B?” Nightwing snorts and, wow, they’re not taking this half as badly as he thought they would. And, hey, now that he’s thinking about it, these are the first actual vigilantes he’s ever met outside of himself and Valerie, and wouldn’t it be a waste not to ask them for pointers? 

Maybe it’s not the best idea in the world, but he already knows their secret identities and they’re being chill about it, so maybe they’ll be chill with his, too. Screw it, he’s doing it. 

“Again, I promise I won’t tell anyone- I’m, ah, pretty good with secrets like this.” They turn to look at him curiously there, and he tries to talk past the lump in his throat. “I’m kind of, um, also a vigilante as well? Funny coincidence, right? Small town gig, though, nothing like Gotham! And I’ve only been on the scene a few years, so… I don’t know what I’m asking, here. Any good pointers?”

Nightwing looks thoughtful. “Does this have anything to do with the billionaire you mentioned?” He asks.

“It very much has a lot to do with the billionaire. If Vlad Masters ever asks you for anything- I dunno, punch him? He’s got a really punchable face, you’d know if you met him. It’s all creepy and shit.”

Nightwing continues asking questions as Bruce Wayne’s head remains firmly buried in his hands, and sure, maybe letting this well-established team of heroes know about his less-than-legal and more-than-ectoplasmic hobbies might come back to bite him, but right now he can’t help basking in the fact that he gets to bad-mouth Vlad to someone who Vlad will probably care about his reputation with. Everything else comes second. 

“-Hang on, you said you’ve been a vigilante for a few years, right? How old are you?”

Okay, almost everything comes second. Both men are looking at him now with something that’s probably-definitely concern and is getting worse the longer he neglects to answer, and Danny is very suddenly reminded once again that the majority of Bruce’s children fit the same appearance-criteria as he does. 

He’s just doubled his own problem, hasn’t he? It’s not just one anymore-he’s going to have to deal with two billionaires now. 

He’s never going on vacation again.