#i would kill a man for their cheese pizza
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
cainternn · 7 months ago
Note
What is your favorite pizza topping?
i do love a good cheese pizza but also mushrooms and meat like sausage or pepperoni :]
23 notes · View notes
Text
Its funny how when you mention being a picky eater people may say like "oh me too i only eat pizza and chicken tenders and spaghetti lol" and i nod but in my head i am thinking about how it makes me happy to have beef stroganoff, meatloaf, fettucine alfredo or roasted red potatoes in the fridge
12 notes · View notes
ficoandleo · 3 months ago
Note
what your fave foods
Tumblr media
"I like pretty much anything spicy! The spicier the better! I've had some allegedly authentic Thai and Indian stuff that was really, really good. Not sure I could pin down a fave though. Probably because I kinda wish I didn't really have to eat?"
Tumblr media
"I don't really like anything too heavy; frankly I don't much like eating at all, but eating too little was something I was chided for frequently growing up." Now that he's an adult he doesn't have to eat much at all and no one can tell him he's wrong for it!! "I tend to prefer antipasto to proper dishes--bruschetta, for example. Aside from that, maybe pasta alla puttanesca. Although finding any kind of authentic, regional dishes in Tokyo is impossible as far as I can tell. The ingredients are different too, so teaching someone else may as well be a lost cause."
1 note · View note
cornerstoreclown · 2 months ago
Note
Mornings with Art? I think it’s a cute scene to imagine Art eating while reader comes in (all sleepy and groggy and out of it cause they just woke up), wordlessly kisses him on the cheek, and makes her breakfast
Writing this before bed. So if there’s errors, I’ll get ‘em tomorrow. For now here’s some domestic shit. I did add dialogue though, I hope that’s okay! I was trying to think of how to go about it without words but then I just went wherever my head led me.
F!Reader x Art
———————————
Ever since he’d come home one particularly bad night due to a victim that just so happened to be carrying a firearm, he’d been taking it easy on himself. A few bullet wounds here and there, which you helped him patch up with the standard bandages and gauze, but for the most part he took his injuries in stride, opting to lay low and keep indoors for however long he decided. Dying was hard when you were a supernatural force, which you knew he very well was. You let him borrow the spare room to work on whatever gadgets and gizmos he wanted to create for his next escapade–for whatever that might actually entail.
As long as you’re not at the end of his knife, gun, mace–whatever weapon he decides to use, you’re fine with it. Though you know one day you might end up with one of those weapons lodged in your back or in your skull, you pray that it never happens. The first mistake would be to get comfortable around this man and let your guard down, which you never did.
However, it’s moments like this, when he’s sitting at the kitchen table when you head downstairs for breakfast that really make you want to do otherwise. Especially right now.
Art was sitting right at the kitchen table, eating frozen pizza from last nights dinner, and he’s doing it rather politely, you note. One slice on a paper plate, napkin nearby, and another slice being daintily held with both hands as he quietly and gently chews each bite he takes.
You have to remind yourself he killed someone last month and ate a rat last week. But it doesn’t stop you from tiredly smiling as you watch him through your unkempt hair that obscures part of your vision.
He merely regards you with a look, still munching away.
Fatigue whispers in your ear and urges you back to your warm and comfy bed. But whether you’re burdened by school, work, or both, there’s no rest to be had.
“Hey,” You yawn tiredly, walking your way to the coffee machine. It was either that or tea this morning. Art was a tea kind of guy, so you put on the electric kettle for him.
He resumes eating, almost finishing his first slice. He’s now got one leg crossed over the other as he assesses you in your oversized t-shirt, munching away on the crust. He has an aura of sassiness to him this morning with that body language.
“Yeah, yeah, I look rough, I know. Not all of us are divas when we wake up,” You lean against the counter, folding your arms across your chest. “And pizza? For breakfast? Come on.”
Art just responds in kind with fluffing up his imaginary hair and then flipping it over his shoulder. Bad hair day? Couldn’t be him!
“You got any plans for today, or are you just gonna go back to crafting shit in my spare room?”
Art shrugs his shoulders as he reaches for the second pizza slice, this time ripping off parts of the cold sauced and cheesed up flatbread to pop in his mouth in a very prim manner. He’s been very into letting his whims lead his decisions as of late.
“Gotcha.” You remark, not sure where to continue the conversation immediately, but you don’t need to worry about that as your coffee has finished brewing and the electric kettle has heat up the water. You sweeten your coffee to taste, as well as Art’s tea in a timely manner. He liked his drinks sweet. Anything bitter was an immediate no. With the remaining hot water in the kettle, you use it to make yourself instant oatmeal.
You plant a kiss to his cheek which he allows as you put his drink down near him. You take your seat on the other side of the table where your oatmeal waits, coffee mug in hand, watching him eat. Silence passes between the two of you until you finally voice what you’ve been thinking for the past few minutes.
“Can you rip me off a piece?”
302 notes · View notes
clearexpertarcade · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
The Freshman Fifteen
Matt stood in front of the mirror, shirtless, his eyes fixated on his reflection. The soft roundness of his stomach caught the light, highlighting just how much his body had changed in a few short months. He used to have abs, firm and defined, but now… now, there was just this belly, sticking out and refusing to be ignored.
His roommate Aaron was sprawled across the bed, casually scrolling through his phone. "Dude, you can stare at it all day, but it’s not gonna shrink just by looking at it," Aaron teased without even glancing up.
Matt didn’t respond. Instead, he picked up the measuring tape sitting on the desk. He hadn’t used it since high school when he was proud of his lean 32-inch waist. With a sigh, he wrapped the tape around his middle, struggling a bit to get it all the way around without letting his stomach push out. He sucked in his gut as far as it would go.
For a brief moment, he felt a flicker of hope—maybe the number wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe he hadn’t let himself go that much.
Aaron looked over, chuckling. "You really gonna suck it in while you measure? That’s cheating."
Matt rolled his eyes but kept holding his breath, his muscles tight as he fastened the tape around his waist. He squinted at the number, and his heart sank a little. Thirty-six inches.
"Thirty-six…" Matt muttered under his breath, releasing his stomach. The tape measure immediately shifted with a snap, loosening as his belly filled the space it was trying to hide. He looked down at it, and the final number stared back at him: thirty-eight.
Aaron let out a low whistle. "Oof. Freshman Fifteen turned into Freshman Twenty, huh?"
Matt’s face flushed. He looked at his reflection again, watching the way his gut pushed out over the waistband of his sweatpants. Thirty-eight inches. His abs weren’t just hidden; they were gone, buried under this new layer of softness.
"Shut up, man," Matt muttered, dropping the measuring tape onto the desk. He tried to suck in his belly again, holding his breath like it would somehow make everything go back to normal. For a second, his stomach pulled tight, flattening slightly, but then, just like every other time, the moment he relaxed, it pushed right back out. The jiggle in his belly made him wince.
Aaron swung his legs off the bed, clearly enjoying the show. "Dude, you’re killing yourself trying to suck that in. Just let it out. No one cares."
Matt sighed, staring at the thirty-eight-inch mark still lingering in his mind. He gave up trying to suck in, his belly settling comfortably over his waistband, the jiggle now undeniable. He felt the weight of it more than ever. He couldn’t believe how far he’d let himself go.
"Thirty-eight inches," Matt repeated softly, almost in disbelief. "I was thirty-two before college."
Aaron shrugged. "Hey, it happens to the best of us. College life, man. All those late-night burritos and no more gym sessions? That stuff adds up."
Matt rubbed a hand over his belly, feeling its softness. He hadn’t touched his abs in months. He hadn’t even tried to work out since football ended. He used to be proud of his body, but now… now, this belly was all he could think about.
"I guess," Matt mumbled, but it didn’t feel like enough of an excuse. He grabbed a shirt and pulled it over his head, feeling it stretch tightly over his middle. It clung uncomfortably to his body, emphasizing every roll. He tugged at the fabric, trying to pull it down to cover the slight overhang, but it didn’t do much to help.
Aaron stood up, clapping Matt on the back. "Come on, man. Don’t sweat it. We’re ordering pizza tonight, right? I’ll get extra cheese, just for you."
Matt chuckled despite himself. He looked one last time at the mirror, accepting that his stomach wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He wasn’t happy about it, but he couldn’t deny that there was something almost freeing in letting it out, in not caring so much for once.
"Yeah," Matt said, turning away from the mirror. "Let’s get pizza."
As they headed out of the room, Matt could still feel the measuring tape’s numbers lingering in his mind, but for now, he was letting it go. Maybe he’d deal with it tomorrow… but tonight, it was all about extra cheese and not caring if his shirt was a little too tight.
253 notes · View notes
hyunnie04 · 11 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“i smell something burning.” you sniff, poking your head through the bright room. seungmin and felix had just finished their daengnyang school live, texting you to quickly come over. you were already on your way to them anyways, but suspicion immediately came into mind once you saw the message.
you had no idea what they were up to, but whatever it was, it wasn't good. all you heard was that they were preparing something food related.
felix is amazing when it came to baking and cooking but when seungmin is involved, it all somehow goes down hill. what did the kitty cat and puppy do now?
you do a once over at the room, slightly amused of the damage they've caused in such a short amount of time. the condiments and other baking materials were scattered all throughout the table, the pan they've used also had burnt batter residue sticking to it, probably the sole cause of the slight fog that engulfed the room.
“y/n, try it! i made this for you.” seungmin practically beams, shooting from up his seat and holding a plate out. it was a normal enough looking bungeo-ppang, but he has a grin that says evil written all over it.
you glance over at yongbok, the blonde's face morphs into an immediate 'no don’t do it' face while shaking his head vehemently. now you're curious. "what's in this?"
"you have to guess!"
“is this gonna kill me?” 
“no, i promise.” he laughs, holding it to your mouth.
“if i die i'll kill you.” you decide to humor him, taking a very, very small bite out of it. it was spicy and a bit tangy, but the subtle sweetness of the batter contrasted with it in a strange yet palatable way.
“oh, it’s actually pretty good.” you say, grabbing seungmin's wrist to take another bite. felix just watches you with pure disappointment in his eyes.
“see!” the puppy says quite proudly, tail practically wagging.
“what’s in it?”
“sriracha and wasabi.”
“you are trying to kill me!”
"but you liked it!"
"you should try this one y/n." felix says, lifting up his own plate with his creation. you didn't need to think twice since yongbok made it, it's bound to be better than seungmin's. it was different, you thought, tasting cheese and some sort of sauce in the filling.
you went back to taste the sriacha wasabi bungeo-ppang and comparing it to the vaguely pizza flavored one. oddly enough, you found yourself still liking seungmin's better, the expression is clear in your face.
"what?!" seungmin laughs at felix's reaction, patting his back. "you're weird," the blonde snickered, shaking his head.
"we should give this to chan-hyung." the black haired puppy snaps his fingers. your eyes widen, just because you liked it, it doesn't mean chan is gonna think the same way. that man has an abysmal spice tolerance.
"you're planning on giving this to chan? are you trying to kill him?"
before he can reason out why he wants to give this to poor chan, you take the plate out of his hands. "…give it here."
-
a/n: yeah i know it wasn't that bad so i had to take artistic liberties HAHA but i would eat the sriracha one ok just to spare channie LOL
646 notes · View notes
youngbounty · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
I think we can all agree that Damian has always canonly been a vegetarian. However, there seems to be this misconception that it automatically means he’s vegan. Before getting into the reason why this isn’t the case, let me explain the difference between a vegetarian and vegan.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Veganism is a type of vegetarian diet where you abstain yourself from consuming any or from animals. Vegetarian is a broad kind of diet where you avoid meat in general, but can make exceptions to dairy, eggs, fish or insects. There are different types of vegetarians with the most familiar type being Lacto-ovo-Vegetarian.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I could be mean and point out the foods he’s seen eating that could be a vegan or veggie variety. However, I will use evidence that confirms that the products he’s eating or drinking are NOT the vegan variety.
Tumblr media
When Branden offers milk to the Kent’s, notice how he says, “I have my own cow.” He’s not saying he doesn’t drink milk. He clarifies he only gets milk from his own cow, Bat Cow.
Tumblr media
Considering Bat Cow willingly gives her milk to strangers, this makes sense. Why wouldn’t Bat Cow give Damian her milk?
Tumblr media
The next is this. Look what Damian specifically asks for: a glutton free veggie pizza. I decided to look up the ingredients to this kind of pizza and these are the ingredients. Keep in mind these are the ingredients to the pizza Damian specifically ASKS for that cater to his vegetarian diet. So, any ingredients that would NOT apply to the vegan diet do apply.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The only vegan part of the pizza that’s called for is the crust. Most of the ingredients calls for diary such as cream cheese and sour cream. Others call for yogurt, ranch and cheddar cheese. This is why pizzas with vegan friendly ingredients are called Vegan Pizzas and not just Veggie Pizza. Why Damian asked for the pizza to be glutton free could be due to possibly being self-conscious about his weight or not wanting his siblings to eat his entire pizza since he’s more restricted than him. Either way, Damian is certainly not ordering a vegan pizza.
Why is this important to Damian’s character to be a vegetarian and not a vegan? It all comes down to Bat Cow. His mortal obligation to became a vegetarian is much more personal than others that become vegans or some form of vegetarian. To understand this, we need to go back to the story that led to Damian’s change in diet.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The illegal slaughterhouse Damian ransacked with his father was an illegal one ran by the Leviathans. The Leviathans placed a target on Damian, being a bounty was set on him at the time. This is what led to the slaughterhouse. This same man, who targeted and almost killed Damian, was about to run off with Bat Cow when Batman and Robin stop him. From then, Damian decided to keep the cow, change his diet and call her Bat Cow.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Both Damian and Bat Cow were both being targeted to be killed when they first met. This is how Damian is able to reach out to Bat Cow. Damian is making this choice with the understanding that Bat Cow will see any human that consumes meat no differently than those that slaughtered her family. By changing his diet, Damian is becoming someone Bat Cow can trust won’t hurt her like in the slaughterhouse.
Tumblr media
Understanding this, we can then understand why consuming milk, eggs or dairy doesn’t apply here. This picture is what Damian does not want to be seen as in Bat Cow’s eyes. Nowhere do we see milk, diary or eggs being eaten here. Therefore, eating diary and eggs do not apply to Damian’s diet. So long as those things are freely given and no lives are taken, Damian will not restrict himself from consuming milk, eggs or any eatable products from the animal itself.
Now, I don’t mind Damian being any type of vegetarian that eats/drinks diary from Bat Cow only and eats eggs from Jerry (if female) or Wiggles only. I only have a pet peeve over claiming Damian’s Vegan or a type of Vegetarian that restricts himself from anything his pets willingly give him. The reason is because by restricting Damian as Vegan, it restricts his relationship with Bat Cow, who willingly gives her milk to those who need it. By providing milk for Damian, she’s helping and providing for the one who saved her and gave her a better life.
Most Vegans live in the city where they depend on food from the grocery store. Veganism started around the 20th century when factories and grocery stores began growing and monopolizing their products. However, Vegetarianism has been around for thousands of years. At the time, everyone raised their own livestock. If anyone became a Vegetarian for religious or moral obligations, there was no point in abstaining diary or eggs, being they milked their own milk and gathered their own eggs or else their neighbor’s. There was no concern over how the cows, goats, chickens, quail or turkeys were treated because the Vegetarian was caring and were responsible for their own animals.
If Damian is raising Bat Cow, he has no reason to avoid milk. Same with getting eggs. If Damian gets his eggs from Jerry or the Kent farm, those eggs are not provided through inhuman ways. He might be paranoid enough to only eat foods with dairy ingredients he provides from Bat Cow, but I can’t see Damian completely restricting himself from anything that could be provided to him more humanely. If we truly believe Damian restricts himself to Veganism, aren’t we claiming he can’t get his own milk, cheese, yogurt, etc. from his own cow or eggs from his turkey more humanely? I think Damian would be insulted by us and say…
Tumblr media
87 notes · View notes
tokuvivor · 3 months ago
Text
Due to circumstances beyond the control of any others, @violetganache42 and I are splitting duty on this week’s highlights post (Competition Night edition). She did it for the shorts and episodes, I’m doing it for An Extremely Goofy Movie.
So without further ado, here we go.
“Polar Trappers”:
We bring ‘em back alive
@puffyducks: bro where is pabo
Donald hunting a penguin, which is now illegal to do so
Not the kid!
The baby penguin’s tear becoming a massive snowball
“Need 4 Speed”:
QUACK PACK (Again!)
Disney Ducks meet The Fast and the Furious
@spamtoon: huey you guys aren't in phineas and ferb
Daisy appearance!
The idea of Comet Guy Night
@ducklooney and puffy going off about humans being in the Duckverse
Us calling Donald and the authorities to kill Rocky the Rocket Throttle
From Negaduck ass car to Ratcatcher
@writebackatya: "This is like the Family Guy of the Duckverse"
Ludwig appearance!
puffy: "where's dick dastardly"
Puffy, Missy, and I using 90s slang
Daisy seeing the triplets in the race:
Tumblr media
RIP ethnically stereotyped racers
WriteBackAtYa: "DuckTales 2017 needed a car race episode"
Violet: "Would Huey and Launchpad be commentators?"
WriteBackAtYa: "Yes Always"
Violet: "SOLD!"
Ludwig's toy kangaroo winning the race
@tealottie: erection joke
Tumblr media
“The Missing Links of Moorshire!”:
Webby giving Scrooge semi-permanent hearing loss
Launchpad: "This lake will be used for the swimming portion of the competition."
Huey: T_T
Violet: "Cue theme song!"
Missy betraying Della with Daisy
Tony the Tiger?!
The entire coin toss scene 🤣
Us praising Glomgold
Missy commenting how Scrooge and Glomgold can't tuck their tails for golfing
The audio glitching like CRAZY
Fluttershy and Bubbles the Kelpies
Webby: "Talking animals wearing clothes?! :D"
@fantasticenthusiasttale: "Webby…"
Violet, internally:
Tumblr media
"Bologna. Trampoline."
THE MUSIC USED FOR THE MONTAGE!
Louie yoinking money out of Glomgold's sweater pocket
Emo Dewey
"You people are no fun."
Webby: "Not everything has to be a life lesson."
Violet:
Violet pretending to be turned to stone by the Medusa Mist (as I like to call it)
Launchpad ending the episode with a life lesson… before trying to devour golf balls
“Dog Show”:
puffy: "you know who else is an orphan"
Dreamy: "Everyone in this shit is an orphan"
The dog show people being dogs
Goofy literally begging
Pixar ball
Mickey unleashing his inner dog
An Extremely Goofy Movie
Calling out all the characters from the previous movie as they show up
The fact that Pete is celebrating his own son leaving💀
How is Goofy single?
Goofy having major rizz (this point comes up quite a bit during the movie, and for good reason)
Max’s character development from A Goofy Movie being undone
Sad Goofy☹️
HDL mention!
Bradley Uppercrust III
@kaitosduckmania: “god this shit is so pretentious LMAO”
Will: “I want this review on the back of the DVD”
Max/Roxanne vs. Max/Bradley on Tumblr
Beret Girl!
Puffy: “you know who ELSE is called tank”
Violet: “MY MOM”
Puffy: “they’re snapping at us…MENACINGLY”
Bradley having the same VA as Johnny Bravo (also, The Man with the Yellow Hat)
Max’s horrified face when he sees that he and his dad are in the same class
Bobby wearing pink panties/briefs
Hidden Mickey
Goofy’s mispronunciation of the word “trigonometry”
Puffy: “the WHAT decimal system”
Sylvia being adorable
Goofy does a Donald-esque voice
Kai: “WHAT THE FUCK GOOFY YOU CAN MAKE THAT VOICE?”
Will: “Max’s whole character is that he doesn’t want to be like Goofy but like he is so much like his father that he doesn’t even know it”
More cheese pull (pizza in the last movie, nachos in this one)
BONGO MUSIC
PJ has rizz, too
Goofy and Sylvia dancing to Shake Your Groove Thing
Papa Dog
Us dumping on the inherent cult-like nature of fraternities, sororities, and the National Honor Society
The German judge low-balling everyone
Dreamy: “Is this the olympics all again”
Puffy: “this is MY olympics”
Max shooting down Goofy in the worst way possible
Goofy’s weed/acid trip dream (plus the Goofy holler!)
More Goofy sadness
Meta humor about almost everyone wearing gloves
Missy betraying Daisy with Sylvia
CHEATING!!!!!
PJ flying off
Dreamy: “He went to visit Della”
“Mud! My only weakness!”
Will mentioning that the scene with the X crashing down was removed from the broadcast version of the movie after 9/11 (which we completely understand, because holy shit)
Also, sort of a Hindenburg reference
Goofy graduating! (And then telling Max he was getting a job at the school)
Sylvia having the same VA as Emma Glamour
Spam floating the idea of Max vs. Gosalyn for the X Games
Disco end credits!
Also, that was a goofy movie. Extremely, even.
21 notes · View notes
astrobuggy · 6 months ago
Text
!! Tsams/Tlaes Headcannons !!
● Gemini is very light (and by light, I mean weightless)
○ Past Lunar used nicknames like as if his life depended on them (now he barely does it since he doesn't wanna seem childish)
● Earth and Solar would bake things for the family or, for the hell of it
○ Lunar showed Gemini his music taste and they were severely concerned
● Earth brought Lunar shopping once and lunar was buried underneath all the shopping bags
○ Moon can't cook and bake for shit (he somehow burned pizza rolls in the oven 😨)
● Lunar can walk on water, but he just splashes in the water during training for shits and giggles
○ Lunar is actually pretty good at drawing he just hides the drawings away (he draws the people close to him and uses them as references bc of their odd activities... if you turn the pages a bit more you'll see Gemini)
● To build off my lunar artist hc: Lunar is a self- taught artist
○ The celestial family likes to indulge in human activities to escape the reality that they're from a shitty company that could care less about them
● The twins (Castor & Pollux) hair is actually so knotted it started to clump up ( Earth cried literal tears when she touched Polluxs hair )
○ Libra is the mother figure in the whole Astral council (She's a single mother preventing the others from killing one another 😭)
● (Referring to my nickname lunar hc) When by some miracle Lunar uses these nicknames he uses it with people who he's comfortable with
Gemini- Gem[s,z]
Pollux- Lux, Poll, Polly
Castor- Cas, Cassie, tory
Moon- Moony, cheese (man), bro
Sun- Sunny, smiley (not anymore), bro
Solar- Twink, cus (cousin for short) (he accidentally called Solar bro once)
Earth- Sis, ribbons ( 🎀 ), clouds
○ Unlike Lunar, Moon actually uses nicknames on a daily basis ( squirt, Lil squirt, sunny, lu, sis, big man, etc)
( If there's a bit too many lunar hcs, it's bc he's my favorite character - sorry ! 😪)
53 notes · View notes
icycoldninja · 10 months ago
Text
If Dante and Leon Kennedy met headcannons
Tumblr media Tumblr media
A/N: inspired and encouraged by @altissia-09 and the comment they made on this post.
-Somehow, Leon S. Kennedy ends up getting teleported to Redgrave City and somehow found himself standing in front of Devil May Cry.
-Dante suddenly kicks open the door, a mountain of empty, greasy pizza boxes in hand.
-"Oh, hey there!" He exclaims, thinking the stranger to be a potential client. "You looking for help? You came to right place, then! This is Devil May Cry!"
-Meanwhile, Leon is visibly confused, wondering who this man is, why devils cry, and what should he do.
-Dante dumps his pizza boxes on the side of the curb, like he normally does, and invites the stranger in, eager to see if he wants help with demon-slaying, and if he has the money to pay for it.
-Leon finds himself seated on a dusty couch in a dingy office, watching silently as Dante gobbles down yet another large pizza with pepperoni, cheese, and no olives.
-Dante doesn't really care about the fact that his guest looks a little uncomfortable, as he's incredibly hungry and just wants to finish his pizza.
-Leon soon gets bored of sitting there and decides to leave. He gets up and slinks to the door, when Dante finally notices his customer is leaving, and therefore stops him. "Hey, where ya going? Don't you wanna hire me?" Leon turns around and glares at the man suspiciously. "Why would I wanna hire you?" Dante shrugs, stuffing the last pieces of pizza into his mouth. "Ya need me for killing demons, right?" Leon paused, confused. "Demons?" Was he talking about the zombies?
-The two man end up staring at each other for some time, confused as to why they have no idea what the other is talking about.
-Then Dante realizes that this man might not be from Redgrave, and that there aren't just demons popping up randomly in his world.
-"Alright, come on, let's go." Dante leaps from his seat and takes Leon by the arm, dragging him out the door. "Where are we going?" He asks, roughly wrenching his arm away. "Where?" Dante responds, opening the door. "To go find my douchebag brother so he can send you home."
-Leon is confused, but he'll roll with it. At least the residents here don't look evil.
53 notes · View notes
candycoated-rage · 1 year ago
Text
anyways here’s some of my personal pizza tower character interpretations
- peppino is Italian-American and lives in Boston. He’s super Mario bros super show Mario. the pizza tower just appeared in Boston one day and nobody questioned it because it’s boston
- peppino is the only “normal” guy in a world of cartoony bullshit. it’s like a who framed Roger rabbit situation where he’s just so constantly sick of the silly things.
- peppino is also perpetually angry because of the cartoon bs. more angry than anxious. outside of the pizza tower he’s a normal old guy (I am a “peppino is constantly anxious” nonbeliever. make that old man grumpy)
- he’s also divorced
- Gustavo is relatively normal compared to everything else. he just wants to help
- I once saw the idea of pepperman being a frat boy who only took up art to get “hot art babes” and I firmly believe that
- pman’s size correlates to his ego. after peppino beats the shit outta him he physically shrinks because he’s so ashamed of himself
- vigilante is the only actual competent boss who tries to take things seriously despite him being sentient melted cheese
- the noise is a little BASTARD and I mean it. he would kill peppino if it weren’t for his conveniently timed girlfriend always stopping him.
- the only time noise acts normal is when he’s not being broadcasted on live tv. then he’s just the most normal guy ever
- the noise is also the “mascot” of the pizza tower I guess
- noise and noisette have a HAPPY relationship. FUCK the nonbelievers
- fake peppino isn’t a sweetheart frog boy. he is a wild animal that pizzahead just kinda dropped off into a musty pit and gave a key and said “protect this”
- when the pizza tower was destroyed fake pep just hid in peppino’s freezer for a week until peppino had to shoo it out with a broomstick. he is a vermin
- pizzahead is an egotistical incompetent antagonist DUMBASS. he only wants to destroy peppino’s place because he thinks it’s ugly and hates old men. he is Roger rabbit to me
all of this is canon to me you cannot argue with my awesome infallible logic
63 notes · View notes
zedortoo · 2 years ago
Text
Pizza Autism: the novella
Pizza Tower autism and/or ADHD headcanons go go go!!!!
warning there is. So much under the cut. I go off about everyone's tism
Peppino:
-Middle aged man autism. Ohh my god this guy is so autism we're starting off strong
-Most of his stims are physical and are probably. Not the most healthy (biting, banging wrists together, hair pulling etc)
-He has arfid frfr! Despite being a chef he's very careful about what he eats, however most italian foods are safe foods for him.
-Struggle showing empathy, even if he feels it. Yall saw how he reacted to Gerome mourning John he was out of his depth 😭
Gustavo:
-gnome autism.
-poor dude can't understand sarcasm to save his life. Also really bad at comprehending deeper meanings and stuff... Honestly me too Gustavo. Me too.
-actually gets overstimulated really easily. he grew up in a place similar to the gnome forest in the tower, where the air was always somewhat humid. If there's a dehumidifier running anywhere he can practically sense it and will immediately get upset bc he is too dry 💔
-His stims are mainly vocal (i.e. "I'm going to kill you") but he also likes to bounce on the balls of his feet and rock back and forth!
Mr Stick:
-French autism
-Hes not actually a huge asshole all the time, SURE he can be blunt and come off as rude but most of the time the mean persona is a mask. His really close friends know he's just a weird dude
-(stole this idea from Olympe) He is a routine lover!! Has his entire day planned out as soon as he wakes up. If you get in the way of his routine you will be turned into an ambiguous ball of meat. He was SOOOO pissed off when he got stuck in the tower bc it's wasn't in his routine so he robbed the whole damn place out of malice
-Innapropriate reactions to sensetive situations. If he had to comfort someone it would be Joever for him.
-Represses most stims because he thinks he's embarrassing. When in private though he'll spend ages examining textures and smelling paper (I do this all the time it's so fun). Occasionally when he's tired or comfortable he'll let out a high pitched squeak that noone can believe came from that middle aged man.
-I could go on with more. I love talking about this cunt.
Pepperman:
-Capsicum autism.
-Also has inappropriate reactions to things. Has no vocal control either half of the time he doesn't realize he's yelling
-Has a habit of chewing on/wanting to taste everything. Ate several wardrobes worth of Polly pocket clothes as a kid probs. Has to physically stop himself from giving his art supplies a taste. Occasionally eats an eraser still.
-If someone reorganizes his shit they WILL be killed this dude knows exactly where everything he needs is he has his own fucked up system
-Mainly uses stim toys. Has a collection of high end custom made ones but is too afraid of wearing them out so he chews on a toy dog bone instead and it's mangled to BITS
Vigilante:
-Cheese autism.
-This dude has know idea what autism actually is. He knows he's different compared to a lot of people, but he's never had the right word for it.
-Strong sense of justice. If something is wrong he WILL set it right. He got super upset when he realized Peppino wasn't actually an outlaw and he had tried to kill an innocent dude
-HATES HATES HATES processed foods. says he can taste the chemicals.
-Doesnt really stim in public. He'll tap his boot or spin the barrel of his gun if he gets really overstimulated but he much prefers to just pet some of his farm animals until he feels better
Noise:
-Rat autism!!
-This dude constantly needs to be overstimulated he loves it. If things are too quiet he gets super upset and starts bouncing off the walls and shit
-HATES the texture of carbonated drinks but forces himself to drink them because the flavour is worth it.
-Hes has like, three masks on at all times. There's the feral showbiz fella we all know and love, then beneath that is a more controlled businessman type, and beneath THAT is another, slightly less feral rat man.
-goes semi verbal sometimes. Everything just gets tangled up in his mind and he can't spit out the words he wants. He hates it when this happens during a show.
Noisette:
-Bunny autism!!!
-classic weirdgirl type. Would totally read warrior cats and roleplay as a cat on the playground as a kid.
-Also really bad with understanding emotions. You have to tell her specifically if she's upset you or something otherwise she just will not realize.
-makes a lot of vocal stims. Mainly just little beeps and stuff (I like to think she'd make that one jerma substitute teacher noise. Does anyone know what I'm talking about) Also loves to rock back and forth!!
-Has texture issues. She personally disposed of all the Sherpa fleece in the tower.
Fake peppino:
-autism supreme.
-like fr this dude is just the embodiment of autism. it eats vaccines to get more autistic/j
-cant understand when it's making someone upset. Actually, similar to Noisette, is bad at perceiving negative emotions overall.
-mirrors a lot. I mean that's like an integral part of their character. They mainly take after Peppino but will start acting like someone if he's around them long enough.
-melts into a puddle when overstimulated. Honestly? I wish I could do that too.
-Mainly mirrors stims from friends. It freaked everyone out when they started repeating Gustavo's catchphrase.
Pizzahead:
-PIZZA AUTISM!!!
-horrible moral compass this dude will do anything she wants and genuinely won't see what's wrong with it. Case in point the whole of pizza tower
-used to mask her true silly self a lot to be considered more 'normal' but decided normal ppl were boring as hell and dropped the charade
-arfid haver!! Loves pastries and breads and stuff, basically refuses to eat anything else. Has a personal vendetta against cantaloupe and has vowed to destroy it all bc he hates it soooo much
-taps his foot as a stim!! Also likes to jump around and the like, will rapidly shake their fists if incredibly excited
Gerome:
-Rock autism
-This guy loves his own company. Sure, he'll happily be social, but drops the mask as soon as he's alone. Just likes to be alone!
-Also not big on touch. The only person who's allowed to lay a finger on him is John, if anyone else just like. pats him on the back he will freeze up.
-loves being a janitor because the job is mostly repetitive. He cleans each floor in his own order, he has it all sorted out!
-loves bath bombs and stuff. Really likes the smells and just the fizz and the way they crumble in his fingers. Sometimes he'll just throw one in the sink and watch it for ages
-makes this weird clicking noise in the back of his throat as a stim. It's a rather unsettling noise but it's really the only way he stims in public. When alone he likes to feel textures of different things
John:
-hivemind autism!
-I feel bad for this dude man imagine having your being spread out through several different pocket dimensions and all of them have different textures and shot this poor bugger must've been overstimulated for years
-very blunt. Says what he wants with no remorse. Also doesn't have any volume control so often doesn't realize he's yelling
-I imagine when he was resurrected and was no longer a hivemind he had to take a long time alone just being himself. Duuuude imagine having to mask for YEARS because you were never ever alone I would lose my fucking marbles
-opposite of his brother, he doesn't understand personal space. Will often accidentally get I'm ppls faces because he doesn't realize how close he is to them. This also makes him somewhat clumsy and he has a habit of running into things
-Mainly has facial/expression stims. Will pull a big ol' grimace if something goes wrong and grin like an idiot when happy (see: when he got revived)
155 notes · View notes
manicplank · 9 months ago
Note
OKAY. JOHN E. CHEESE HEADCANONS?! OR MAYBE JUST THE VIGILANTE?!
I'll do both!
The Vigilante
Tumblr media
Vigi is an orphan. His parents were killed by rogue criminals that raided his farm. This is what inspired him to become a vigilante.
He was raised by his peepaw (grandpa) John E. Cheese.
Vigi is an animal lover.
Vigi and Noisette are close friends. They have a family-like friendship. (Sorry cheesecake shippers.)
The Vigilante produces a lot of non-pizza products sold in the tower.
Vigi is a very busy man. He's working from dawn to dusk.
Vigi likes plain black coffee with two sugar cubes.
Vigi is a little closed-minded and ignorant.
He's a flat-earther.
He can't do math. He knows basic math, and that's it. He still counts on his fingers.
Vigi is an older man. I feel like he's in his mid 40's.
Mort is Vigi's closest pet.
Vigi is one hell of a cowboy. He has a rat mount like Gustavo that he raised and trained himself.
Vigi is afraid of bugs, ESPECIALLY bees.
The Vigilante is one of the only justice figures in the tower (the others being the Pig City police).
Vigi cries every time a calf is born.
Vigi banned The Noise from the Fun Farm after he found him chasing Mort around. (He claims Mort started it.)
Vigi thinks racism is an extreme interest in racing.
Vigi doesn't like the cold.
John E. Cheese
Tumblr media
John E. Cheese died peacefully of old age when Vigi was a teenager/young adult.
He taught Vigi how to cook, farm, shoot, etc.
He takes no shit. You wanna rob him? You bout to get a pitchfork up your ass.
He would defend the farm with his own two hands (and shotgun).
Even in death, he's still very protective of Vigi.
He doesn't like Peppino much. Thinks he was trespassing illegally.
He's very gullible.
He's good friends with King Ghost from the Pizzascare level.
His wife passed due to mold.
That's about all I can think of, but I'll more as time goes on.
25 notes · View notes
shitposting4squares · 2 years ago
Text
Pizza Tower/Evil dead crossover Peppino
Tumblr media Tumblr media
He had to cut off his own hand to stop from turning into a pizza monster, and he’s mad as hell about it. Also I decided to give him a sleeve harness for his BIG HONKIN PIZZA CUTTER BUZZSAW cus it looked strange on the end of his more noodle looking arm. And this gives him more heft and motion. I’ll put what I’ve got so far about the au under a readmore.
So a chain restaurant opens in a historic landmark, the tower, where during renovation they accidentally unearth an ancient spooky power. Which gets harnessed by the human who would soon become PizzaHead.
Setting off a very monkey's paw be careful what you wish for situation, cus the guy basically wanted a “pizza empire”. He meant that in terms of creating a huge and wealthy corporation, but the tower magic took it literally. So now not only is it spawning armies of pizza monsters, but Pizzahead has the power to turn humans into more pizza monsters.
So he starts by inviting all the owners of the local businesses to the restaurant part of the tower for a little get together before the grand opening.Targeting them first to cut down the competition and ensure the maximum amount of customers would instead be visiting his restaurant. This being the moment that first gets everyone scared, as a 6+ foot tall man made out of cheese with a pizza for a face bursts into the restaurant. Acting like some kind of unhinged cartoon clown, and trying to get the people who haven't eaten the free pizza yet to try some. Though it seems like his presence speeds up the pizza monster transformations. As the ones who were infected start to turn, while Gustavo, Mr. stick, and Peppino escape into the tower.
So in this instance, the bosses are other humans who showed up to the party and got turned into pizza monsters as part of Pizzaheads army. Like pepperman used to be the owner of an arts and crafts store. Vigilante was a farmer who restaurants would sometimes buy meat and veggies from locally. Noise and Noisette were a young couple involved in journalism who were covering the opening of the new restaurant. And some of the other one-off monsters could be other local business owners.
Peppino never ate any of the pizza, but he did get a slice of it shoved into his hand by pizzahead when he showed up and terrified everyone by being an unhinged pizza monster, and it took him a moment before dropping it. So after a bit of adventuring, it turns out his hand is infected, and he's gotta cut it off to keep the pizza transformation from spreading. As his screaming and comically slamming his cheese and pepperoni hand on various walls does little more than stun the cheese hand in a cartoony sorta way (Like with stars spinning over it’s head).
After a building of panic as the cheese starts to spread over his wrist, he cuts it off in a grocery store-like location within the tower with a industrial strength pizza cutter, that is really more like a big buzzsaw, splattering himself with his own blood. Though the pizza monsters are threatening to break in, so he attaches the big buzzsaw to his stump arm, and goes on a blind rage chainsaw massacre style rampage. Eventually collapsing from blood loss and overexertion in the abandoned looking Bruno's pizza when it looks like he’s killed all the monsters nearby.
He wakes up with something trying to force his mouth open, and it's his severed cheese hand. He tries to kill it, but it tricks him into screaming and it's able to get into his mouth. He tries to puke it out, but instead he pukes out a whole grey shirt Peppino clone, which he screams at, it screams back, and it melts into inert goo. He vomits a few more times, with a similar outcome of spawning a short lived lumpy looking clone of himself, and he's able too look inside his mouth in a reflective surface, and his mouth and throat is full of goopy hands. No longer made of cheese, but more looking made out of melty rubber skin. So he quickly boils a pot of water and drinks the boiling water while screaming and swearing much like how it goes down in army of darkness, with the clones screaming as the boiling water hits them. A very brief moment for Peppino to catch his breath, hoping it's over, but then stuff starts growing under his skin, and he undergoes a rapid, but disturbing mitosis.
The two Peppinos pulling apart and falling to the ground. With Peppino having a moment of excitement as his hand has grown back
But he spots his doppelganger and scrambles to his feet, fake Peppino currently being a perfect mirror of him. Matching Peppino’s looks and movements exactly. Peppino takes a moment to process how weird this is, doing stuff like moving his arm and hand, with Fake Peppino mirroring the motion, before trying to back away slowly. But when he takes a step back, fake pep steps forward. And again. Before Peppino tries to book it, and fake pep lunges after him, causing him to scream, and fake pep screams back, revealing himself as a warped goo monster, and the chase is on. And that’s as far as I’ve got with the au so far. Can let me know if you have any ideas to expand on the au with.
335 notes · View notes
tickletastic · 11 months ago
Text
Fear Toxin, Love, and Other Sh*tty Drugs
Fandom: DC
Ship: JayRoy
Warnings: canon typical violence, panic attacks (sort of- after effects of fear toxin?)
Summary: Jason and Roy have a rough night out on patrol in Gotham, nothing goes as planned, and an Arkham breakout is just the cherry on top. (not a whole lot of tickling, i got carried away, cross posted to my AO3 bc I planned a second, non-tickly chapter)
The streets of Gotham had not been kind last night.
The previous night started just as expected, a crime syndicate carelessly offloading giant tin shipping containers of the world’s most dangerous weapons, a plan in the works for them to leave them in crime alley, to leave them with the most desperate people in the city and watch Gotham crumble. It was a kid that had tipped Jason off, just some kid with a shitbag dad who thought Jason could save them, thought Jason could save anyone. Jason found out the rest from some of his undercover contacts, who sounded nearly afraid when discussing the kinds of weapons that would soon reach Gotham’s streets. 
Jason was now waiting, impatient and annoyed, on the corner of a tall building, waiting for the right time to jump into action. The building used to have some mom and pop restaurant on the main floor, one that Jason would frequent after long nights of patrol, when he couldn’t drag his body any further. Apartments were above, but they had been condemned at some point after the restaurant closed down. Now, Jason has a safehouse set up in one of the old rooms, and, though he’d never admit it, he uses Wayne funds to stock the old restaurant with frozen pizzas, chips, mac n cheese, and other snacks for the kids that wander by, hoping that they’ll find food somewhere like this. 
Roy is at his back, eating greasy chips from a tupperware container. Jason had insisted that Roy didn’t need a patrol snack, but, after caving in, he made sure, at least, that the snack wouldn’t be so loud. If it weren’t for Roy, Jason would’ve lunged into the action by now, not caring if the syndicate dealt him a broken leg or a dislocated jaw while he took down enough of them to get the weapons somewhere far from here. Roy had always been the patient one, and he manages to keep Jason’s irritability at a low by talking about some book he wanted to read.
The crimes are cresting, the final load now on Gotham’s dock, a sound of trucks in the distance. Now would be the best time, Roy can see every opportunity laid out in front of him, but then Oracle’s voice is ringing out over the comms, panicked and urgent, announcing that tonight, some random fucking night that was just supposed to involve stopping petty robberies and killing a syndicate boss, was the seemingly biannual Arkham breakout. 
Roy and Jason are caught in a heated, whispered debate, Jason thinking they should strike before some goofy D list villain can come interrupt them, but Roy thinks it’s too unpredictable now, that they should return the following week, when Jason knows the syndicate planned to do inventory of their new stash. Jason stands up, Roy grabbing him by the leg of his pants, just as Oracle makes another announcement, the silence between Roy and Jason so tense that it could be broken in half. Roy’s heart started to beat faster, his palms suddenly sweaty where he gripped his bow, the world around them suddenly a cacophony of noise. In spite of the precautions, the two-foot thick concrete walls, and the fucking manual entry external lock system for the cell, he had gotten out too. 
Jason tensed, but otherwise showed no emotion towards the situation– no reaction to the fact that the man who killed him is roaming the same Gotham streets that he is. It was always like this when it came to the Joker, Jason always tensed up and pushed people away, claiming he’s okay until the second he’s not.
Bruce had a protocol for this exact situation– Jason would be moved to Star City, or JL Tower, or Central City, or even the Amazons– just as far as Bruce could get him as quickly as possible. Then, Tim would find Bruce, Duke, or Steph, and stick to them like glue. Damian was expected to find Dick and stick by his side, but that was more of a formality of the plan, since Damian was usually glued to Dick’s side on patrol anyways.
Jason had never been aware of the plan, too stubborn to ever leave in the face of danger, too eager to throw himself back into fear. Sometimes, Wally would come, taking Jason back to Dick’s apartment in Bludhaven despite Jason’s displeasure and squirming. Sometimes, it would be Diana, or “Aunt Di,” as the Robins had always called her, and Jason couldn’t help but agree to whatever she asked, still awestruck by her presence. One, it was even Hal and Barry, Barry gushing about having gone back in time and seeing a Shakespeare play at the Globe. Usually, though, it was Roy calling Jason, coaxing him back to Star City by faking some non-emergent emergency or begging for Jason to help Lian with a spelling test. Usually it was Roy, but Roy was in Gotham tonight. Roy was in Gotham and he would have to physically pry Jason from the roof to get him to give up the sting he had been planning, and there would be nothing that would convince him that his life, his sanity, might be more important for the time being. 
Nothing except for Oracle’s frantic voice, followed by Nightwing’s– Red Robin hasn’t reported, and nobody’s seen him for at least half an hour, caught up in the noise of the Arkham breakout. They have no clue where he is, and, before Oracle can formulate a plan, or even examine the situation with his non-functioning tracker, Jason is hastily grappling from building to building, searching the database in his helmet for a list of every abandoned warehouse in Gotham. 
The communications system is entirely silent, creeping on as each of the bats scramble to understand where Red Robin would have gone, how they had managed to lose track of him for so long. Roy gives panting, out-of-breath updates periodically, telling of the buildings Jason has checked, falling behind as Jason throws himself from rooftop to rooftop. 
Oracle’s gasp rings out over the speakers, hollow and practically shouting, “we have CCTV! The car manufacturing place on the East Side, the corner of 2nd and Church– Hood is the closest!”
“No!” Bruce shouts over the comms, the worried ebb in his voice coming out more like Bruce than Batman, “Signal and I are not much further, we’re on our way.” 
“Absolutely not, 30 minutes is more than enough time for the clown. I’m not letting another fucking Robin die tonight,” Jason grits, hauling ass towards the building as soon as he can see it, the car company’s logo practically decaying, peeling off the building’s facade. 
“Arsenal, do not let Red Hood enter,” Bruce grits over the line, a hardened command, before his voice softens, “please, don’t let him go in.”
Bruce sounds the most scared Roy has ever heard him, and Roy is terrified. He’s desperately trying to keep up with Jason, throwing himself recklessly over the edges of roofs and down rusty fire escapes, but the distance keeps growing. 
“Jay, I can’t keep up,” Roy shouts, a desperate tone, almost a plea, “Jason Peter Todd, you better not go in without me, you better fuckin’ not.”
“It’s him or me,” Jason grunts, “it’s him or me, and I’m not letting him kill another fucking kid.” 
Jason disappears from Roy’s vision, dropping from the sky, and Roy curses, desperately trying to catch up. When he finally drops from the roofs himself, Jason isn’t there, and the door to the warehouse is wide open, dented where a heavy boot kicked it in. Roy rushes in, zeroing in on the direction of the noises he’s hearing– loud clanging and snotty begging– but there’s another door in the way, another door between him, Jason, Tim, and the monster.
“Fuck- fuck! Jason, let me in!” He screams, throwing his body against the door, desperately trying to make a dent as he bangs and kicks and yells. Over the comms, his own voice, shaky and desperate, shouts to the bats, “he’s in there! He’s fucking in there and I can’t get in, I don’t know what’s happening!”
Roy isn’t calm enough to hear any of the responses, breathing heavily, fighting the encroaching panic. He takes one of his explosive arrows, backing up until he thinks he’ll be able to take the door off its hinges with his shot. He lines it up, shaking in spite of all the practice he’s had, all the years he’s spent protecting himself, protecting Jason. There’s a thick thud heard from the other side of the door, and a staticky buzzing playing out in the building, and Roy sees plumes of smoke seep out from the door’s cracks, he hears maniacal laughter announcing itself, the sound of metal dragging on concrete. 
“Jason, if you can hear me, tell me if there’s someone on the other side of this door,” Roy tries to sound commanding, supportive, but his voice is betraying him, hoarse as he shouts, “Jason, I’m going to blow this thing to shreds, I need you to fucking answer me!”
There’s crashing on the other side of the door, noises that sound pained, gasps and shouts and pleas. Roy starts screaming Jason’s name again and again, desperately hoping he has clearance to blow the door to pieces. He finally backs up, aiming again at the rusted, bolted door, when it swings open, Roy hearing the voice over his comms and in person simultaneously. 
“We’ve got them,” Nightwing announces, and he emerges with Tim over his shoulder, gas masks on both of their faces. Despite the masks, Tim looks less than conscious, slack where he hangs over his older brother’s shoulder.
“Where the fuck is Jason?” Roy asks, shaky and scared, caught somewhere between vomiting or hyperventilating, “please, Dick, please don’t tell me-”
Bruce emerges, the sweat on his face visible between the cowl and his own air mask, one arm under Jason’s knees and the other under his back. Unlike Tim, Jason’s eyes are wide open, frantic, while he shakes violently in Bruce’s grip, muttering horrified under his breath. 
“Why isn’t he wearing a mask? Dick, why isn’t Jason wearing a mask?” Roy shouts, hysterical, “Jason, Jace, are you okay? What the fuck happened?”
When Roy approaches, Jason flinches away with a piercing scream, fighting desperately to get out of Bruce’s grip, seemingly terrified. 
“It was fear toxin, Arsenal,” Bruce responds with a grunt, working hard to keep Jason in his grasp, “Jason was given a direct dose, the mask wouldn’t have helped.”
“What the fuck will help? He looks terrified, what is he seeing? What did that fucker do to him? Where the fuck is he?”
Dick takes a second to turn around, having begun making his way to the front door, “Arsenal, the Joker’s dead.”
Roy just gapes, obediently following Bruce and Dick out the door, hoping to god that the bat won’t use this as another opportunity to ice Jason out, hoping the bats have some hidden remedy to Jason’s current paranoia.
The Batmobile awaits them outside when they get out, the Gotham streets feeling quieter than they had when Roy entered, his heart beating in his ears. The Batmobile is small on the best of days, but Roy ends up taking Damian back to the docks and equipping him with enough padding for a skydiving mission, strapping him securely to the back of Jason’s motorcycle before climbing on. Jason would never forgive him if he left the bike in crime alley anyways, knowing a bit too much about crime alley kids and their penchant for stealing expensive tires.
By the time the two are back at the manor, Tim and Jason are in separate medical rooms, Tim out cold, hooked up to machines galore, and Jason fighting with everything left in him to escape the room. He still has the same terrified look in his eyes, and he’s begging, over and over, not to die, crying for help as if he’s back in Ethiopia. 
Roy can hear Bruce trying to shush him, saying comforting, paternal things in Jason’s ear in spite of the physical force he’s using to keep Jason in the room. “You’re not there, Jay. You’re home, you’re with your dad.”
In spite of the comfort, Jason keeps thrashing, tears freely streaming down his face. Roy looks on from outside for a moment, scared that he’ll make it all worse for Jason if he tries to intervene. 
Roy visibly jumps when a voice sounds from next to him, turning to see Dick, discowled but otherwise still in his costume, his brow furrowed, “we gave him the antidote, but it’s going to take a couple hours. The Joker gave him three times what Scarecrow would have, and strapped the mask to his face so he’d have to breathe it all in.”
“Fuck,” Roy sighs, rubbing over his face with one of his hands, “there’s nothing we can do until then? We can’t just let him go through this.”
Dick sighs, mirroring Roy’s tense expression, “Bruce is trying, I’ve tried, you can give it a shot? Maybe you’ll be able to remind him he’s older than he was back then, that might break the illusion, at least a little bit.”
“Okay, yeah,” Roy says, dropping his hands to his sides, “yeah, I’ll try.”
Dick gives him a reassuring pat on the back before entering the room, dropping his voice to say something hushed to Bruce. Bruce nods, turning to glance at Roy, exhaustion written all over his face. He motions for Roy to enter, and, once he’s sure Roy could hold his own, exits with Dick. 
“Hey, Jay,” Roy says, just above a whisper, “Jay, it’s Roy.” 
Jason is silent now, entire body shaking violently, entire face painted with terror. He’s got a thousand yard stare, seemingly aware that someone is in the room, but looking past Roy. 
“I’m going to come closer, Jason,” Roy announces, stepping towards Jason as if he were some scared animal, because, in some way, he is.
Roy is afraid to touch Jason, afraid that it would trigger him to fight off whatever the hallucinations are making Roy look like. What does he do when Lian’s scared? How does he get her back to sleep when she thinks there’s something lurking in the darkness of the bedroom?
Roy tries to touch Jason as little as possible, maneuvering him so he’s at least close to the edge of the bed. He then rounds the bed to the other side, dropping the weird hospital handle softly so it doesn’t block his way, lying down on one side. He laughs a bit to himself under his breath, trying to shed the shyness from the possibility that one of the other nosy bats could walk in at any time. 
Softly, just loud enough to break the room’s silence, Roy starts to sing Total Eclipse of the Heart, melodic and sweet, like he would sing to Lian when she got scared and crawled between him and Jason in their bed. Roy gets through three quarters of the song before he notices Jason’s shoulders are no longer tensed, that he’s leaning against the bed voluntarily.
Just as Roy is about to start his lullaby rendition of Faithfully, Jason slumps, turning his head. His face is still covered in nervous sweat, and Roy still gets a sense that Jason is not really seeing him, but Jason tries for a hoarse whisper, “R-roy?”
Roy reaches out carefully, easing Jason so his back is on the bed, so he can maneuver them so Roy is holding him, Jason’s head listening to Roy’s heartbeat. “It’s me, Jaybird. Just close your eyes, it’ll all be over soon.” 
Roy feels the spot Jason occupies on his chest getting damp, and starts to run a hand up and down Jason’s back. “I c-can’t stop seeing him. He’s here, he’s g-going to kill me.”
Roy shakes his head, though Jason doesn’t see it, “he can’t hurt you, Jay. He’s gone, and I’d never let him.”
Roy is not entirely sure if Jason believes him, not sure if Jason even knows where he is, but he keeps singing until Jason is shaking a little less, until his breathing has evened out and the spot on his shirt starts to dry. 
When Jason wakes up the next morning, feeling like he has the worst hangover of his life, he coughs hard and long until he’s being manhandled upright, a glass brought to his lips. Dick is helping him drink before passing him a handful of pills. Jason has no clue what any of them are, just that he’ll swallow all of them dry if it means he won’t have to deal with the headache and the nausea anymore. Instead, he feels almost instant drowsiness, and he falls asleep yet again. 
The next time he wakes up, the pain is mostly gone, though there’s something foggy in how he’s perceiving everything around him. He hoists himself up so that he can see the entire room, sitting on the edge of the bed. Sitting with his legs open on the floor, facing the bed, is Roy, reading Jason’s well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice. 
“Didn’t know you knew how to read,” Jason tries to joke, but his voice doesn’t work the way he wanted it to, coming out garbled and hoarse. “What the fuck happened to me?”
Roy looks up, a soft smile on his lips when he sees how different Jason is from last night, “you don’t remember?” 
“Ran into a warehouse,” Jason shrugs.
“And after that?”
“Not a lick.”
To Jason, Roy has a weird glint in his eye, a slight strain in his brow, “I honestly think that’s for the best, Jaybird.” 
Jason rolls his eyes, sore as he picks himself up from the bed. He goes to where Roy is sitting and plops himself in between his boyfriend’s legs, his back to Roy’s chest. “You know, it’s pretty fucked up not to tell me what I experienced first-hand.”
It's Roy’s turn, now, to roll his eyes. He sighs, putting Jason’s book off to the side and hugging Jason tight, his chin on Jason’s shoulder, “it was fear toxin. Fear toxin, you, Tim, and the Joker.”
“Fuck,” Jason sighs, “of fucking course it was.”
“You’re fine, Tim’s fine, everything is alright,” Roy says, running soft fingers through Jason’s hair, curly and unruly from his sleep. 
Jason turns his head to the side, making quick, anxious eye contact with Roy, “I think I’ll take your word for it.” 
“You better.” Roy has a mischievous smile on his face, one that Jason can’t see, but he senses the shift in tone, feels Roy’s fingers migrating down to his tummy. He’d rather huff fear toxin for a second, even third time than admit it, but sometimes, when he feels the fear thrumming in his veins, feels like if he’s not touching Roy then he’ll disappear, that he’ll be underground at 15 again, he yearns for Roy’s soft fingers, his teasing touch that ebbs all the fear from Jason’s system. 
When the fingers start to move, Jason doesn’t even try to hold back, giggling freely into the sleeve of the old Gotham Academy hoodie he’d been put into sometime last night. Roy’s fingers tickle in teasing circles around his belly button, clawing at the skin. 
“C’mon,” Roy says, his voice dripping with the sickeningly sweet softness he always showed Jason at times like this, times when Jason would just accept it rather than prickling away from it, “I want to hear you.”
Jason blushes a light pink, his face heating up, but he moves his hands from his face in favour of lightly grasping Roy’s wrists. “Yohou’re a dick!”
“Oh am I?” Roy’s voice rumbles in Jason’s ear and Jason squeaks, throwing his head back. Roy is grinning so hard it almost hurts, and he kisses the top of Jason’s forehead. Jason scrunches his nose, shaking his head back and forth. 
Roy leaves soft kisses down Jason’s neck, his hands moving up to draw soft shapes over Jason’s sides. Jason’s giggles are bubbly and uninhibited, letting Roy explore. He starts to squirm when Roy’s fingers nearly reach his ribs, scratching just below and eliciting a snort and an embarrassed whine. 
Jason leaves his neck wide open, and Roy takes the opportunity to give him a raspberry, Jason kicking his legs out with a squeal, on the verge of real laughter. Roy makes sure his fingers stay just soft enough, his lips just teasing enough, to have Jason giggling himself silly, happily leaning in to the redhead.  
Roy’s fingers slow a bit, wanting Jason to hear everything he’s about to whisper, “you don’t even know how fuckin’ glad I am that you’re alright.”
Jason’s blush grows hotter, feeling another wave of shyness creeping up. He moves his head to give Roy a kiss on the cheek, his boyfriend’s blush almost matching his, just to even the playing field and all. “I’m soho glad you’re hehere.”
Roy smiles before leaning in for a proper kiss, his fingers just barely grazing over Jason’s sensitive spots. When they both pull away, breathless and awestruck, they’re wearing matching goofy grins, Jason still giggling under his breath. 
Jason spots his book again and uses the very tips of his fingers to pull it close enough for him to pick up. He places it into one of Roy’s hands, smiling mischievously at Roy’s confusion. “Nohow read to mehe, asshole!”
45 notes · View notes
ggfj84 · 2 years ago
Text
The Gotham Knights hadn’t graced the playoffs for 12 years straight, the longest streak in the league, so when they finally drafted a first-round quarterback and built a team around him, Dick was ecstatic. He watched the games every weekend and even managed to wrangle the family.
What started in Week 2 as, “Why don’t you stop by, Tim? We’ll order pizza, some mozzarella sticks, make a night of it,” became a weekly ritual, and each week, they added a new family member.
“You don’t mind that I invited Jason, do you?” Tim asked the following week. He also brought an extra pizza. “He was hanging around my boathouse like a kicked puppy.”
“Hey! At least make me a kicked Rottweiler or something!” Jason snarled with little heat. “And I just asked you to do like, two stitches.”
“It was ten but whatever.”
Dick shrugged. “Want a beer?”
“Yes,” the two said in tandem, but Dick brought back two beers and one large iced coffee. Tim didn’t seem to mind not drinking then.
Week 4 welcomed Damian, who understood the nature of honorable combat but not quite how football applied. By Week 7, he was yelling that he wanted “to teach the referee how Ra’s al Ghul dealt with incompetence” for ruling an incomplete pass a fumble.  
Week 5 brought Duke into their Sunday clique. He picked apart the plays and made suggestions that the Knights clearly could not hear.
“No chance you can blind the Metropolis Meteors’ quarterback for two seconds, right?” Jason asked as he tossed a jalapeño popper into his mouth. “Just so he can’t throw after the two-minute warning.”
Duke leaned back and sipped the large pumpkin latte Tim brought him. “Can I? Yeah, probably. From here? Probably not. But dude, I don’t want to get kicked out of the club.”
“Oh, please. It’s not like they ban you forever. I should know. Besides, as long as you don’t kill anyone, B will probably let you back in by summer.”
“Jason, please don’t try to corrupt the new kid,” Dick called from across the room. A moment passed. “At least not until the playoffs.”
By Week 9, they had moved to the Wayne Brownstone. Bruce came down from upstairs after 1 p.m. to find the boys plus Stephanie and Cass camped out in the living room. The game spread had grown to take up not just the coffee table but also the end and side tables by the couches and chairs.  
When the Knights scored, they shot to their feet, roaring with cheers and high-fives.
“…what is going on here?” Bruce asked as he came to stand behind the sofa.
“The Knights are 8 and 1, Father, and are two wins away from a playoff berth,” Damian rattled off without looking away from the screen.
“The new quarterback is on fire,” Cass added, topping her chili cheese dog with extra onions.
“In more ways than one, am I right?” Steph asked, lifting a hand. When Cass shook her head and left her hanging, Steph turned to Tim, who immediately returned her high-five.
Dick smiled up from his position in the middle of the largest couch. “Take a seat, Old Man. We made nachos with queso.”
The great Batman’s kryptonite.
After that, Bruce met Dick at the front door every Sunday at noon – or at six p.m. on Thursday or Monday night – when Dick arrived to set up. On Week 14, Bruce surprised them all with jerseys of their favorite players (including Cass, the traitor, who fell in love with the Meteors’ quarterback).
Week 18, they went to the game at Ferris Aircraft Field – box seats, of course – to send the Knights into the playoffs as the AFC first-round seed.  
The family held a quick meeting after the game to strategize.
“Bruce is holding charity events the next three Sundays,” Dick informed, causing Stephanie, Duke, and Jason to boo and Barbara and Damian to throw crumpled-up napkins.
Bruce put up his hands and legitimately looked remorseful. “I didn’t know you would all be taking up my living room for half the year when Lucius asked me to host, and these are all good causes.”
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t blame the one-time billionaire for wanting to give back to the community,” Dick interjected with a wave of his hand, “and we’ve got this. Barbara, would you mind hosting us the wildcard week?”
“Only if you promise to clean up afterwards and make breakfast the next morning,” Barbara offered with a suggestive smirk.
“Sold!” Dick winked, even as Damian made gagging noises and Steph whispered to Cass, “We need noise-canceling headphones.”
“I can host the Divisional Week,” Jason offered, raising his voice over the girls. “No way in hell we’re going to Tim’s lame-ass boathouse.”
Tim snorted and crossed his arms. “Next time, stitch your own wounds, Jay.”
“Next time, get a real place to live, Drake.”
“I can do the NFL Conference Championships.” Dick snorted at the chorus of whines and groans that followed. “Hey, hey, hey, my place is less than a half an hour away without traffic, and it’s not like you all go to sleep early anyway. And we’ll be back at the Brownstone for the Super Bowl, all right? Now, let’s work out the menus, so the hosts aren’t the only ones cooking.”
Of course, the Gotham Knights tore through the playoffs, winning the Divisional Round and Conference Championships, which meant they were on their way to Glendale, Arizona, for the Super Bowl.
Dick stayed over in Gotham the night before and was already halfway through cutting up vegetables for the guacamole when Bruce entered the kitchen with a communicator in his hand. “I’ve been called away. League business.”
“On Super Bowl Sunday? Even villains usually take this day off to watch the game.”
“Aliens generally don’t care about our rituals or culture.”
“Don’t let Clark or J’onn hear you say that.” Dick scooped up the tomatoes and placed them in a large mixing bowl. “I’m pretty sure the Super Bowl is Clark’s favorite day of the year.”
Bruce scowled. “They didn’t name the game after him, no matter what he says.”
“Do you really have League business, or did you hear that Damian invited the Lane-Kents over to watch with us?” Dick asked with a teasing smile.
Bruce’s face fell. “If there was anything I could do to postpone an alien invasion, I would.”
“Do you need any help?”
Bruce clasped his shoulder warmly. “Thank you, but you’re needed here. I’ll try my best to be back for the Half-Time show.”
“Hey,” Dick called. Bruce turned halfway around in the doorway. “You’re needed here, too. We missed you the last few weeks. It’s not the same without you.”
“You missed my homemade salsa.”
“Jason makes a second salsa and switches out your sucky salsa, Old Man.”
A small smirk teased the edge of Bruce’s lips. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“You better.”
Bruce left with a quick nod, and Dick sighed. He put on a brave face when Damian, followed by Jason, Tim, and finally Duke wandered into the kitchen. He’d switched gears to make pancakes for breakfast before Jason took over to make his salsa and Tim ran out to pick up the pizza, hotdogs, and jalapeño poppers (Clark’s favorite snack). Duke put the finishing touches on the guacamole before they all worked together to fix the nachos.
The Batgirls arrived just after three, and Lois and Jon showed up after five. The first quarter came and went, followed quickly by the second, and though he enjoyed the night with his family, Dick checked his phone often and even sent off a quick text, Offer still stands if you need help.
As Half-Time came, Dick went out to the stoop to look up at the stars. It wasn’t like he didn’t know the world needed Batman, and it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to Bruce missing their family events. But Bruce had been making an effort lately. He made a point to join them every Sunday after they moved to the Brownstone, and he even asked Barry to run him to Bludhaven two weeks ago, so he could catch the end of the AFC Conference Championship game.
Dick just thought – hoped really – that they could enjoy the Gotham Knights winning the Super Bowl together.
Instead, he stood outside and just hoped his father would come home at all. How Alfred did it all those years, he’d never know.
“Dick! It’s back on!” Tim called from inside.
“Be right there!” Dick gave the sky once last lingering stare before turning to go back in –
“Don’t tell me you finished the jalapeño poppers and nachos yet.”
Dick turned and crossed his arms to hide his relieved sigh as Clark and Bruce appeared – seemingly out of nowhere – at the bottom of the Brownstone stairs.
“I’d check the warming draws,” Dick said with a wink. “There might be some lingering snacks in there for the second half.”
Bruce took the stairs two at a time. “Who’s winning?”
“Meteors, 10 to 7, but I wouldn’t count the Knights out yet.”
“During the Super Bowl?” Clark laughed as he clasped Dick on the shoulder and led him inside. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
“Oh, you never know. Knights – dark and otherwise – sometimes surprise you.”
The Meteors ended up winning 21 to 20, but as Dick sat surrounded by his family and they began making plans for next season, he knew he had, in fact, won.  
199 notes · View notes