#is that their name

[faeriekit]

43rd Annual Gotham Academy Bake Sale

dp x dc | FosterDad!Frostbite

❄ Now available to own on video and ao3 ❄

I promised @tourettesdog a snippet of More Yetis™ ages ago and I finally finished lol

❄*❄*❄

Bruce looked up.

And up. 

...And up. 

The— parent?— glanced down at him with a fanged smile. Not— not meanly. Just fanged. As in, he had fangs. 

And thick, puffy fur. And glacial blue horns. And a soft, muzzle-esqe face, and an equally blue prosthetic arm, with what looked like his original bone structure underneath it. 

What a sight at the PTA bake sale. Bruce huffed lightly.

(Remarkably, the puff of air came out as cold steam. Huh.)

“Good afternoon,” the parent, presumably, greeted him, his voice a low rumble. “I’ve been told that the purpose of this event is to raise money for the school, so there are baked good available for purchase. Please tell me if you are interested in any of the selection.” 

Bruce watched the giant, furry parent carefully set out a crocheted blanket to serve as a tablecloth on the provided folding table, dotted the space with carefully organize tupperwares and displayed, and sanitized his— claws— before setting out little treats on round wooden trays. A stack of napkins completed the setup. 

It was a good first-time setup. Downright exotic, even, considering the setting of Gotham Academy. It had a homey, home-grown feeling that was entirely anathema to the cultivated air of the usual attending crowd. 

It was nice, though. Bruce took a picture of the table for his public instagram. 

Usually Bruce and Alfred would man a table for the younger kids, but Damian was still attending the lower school, and Duke had been opted out of participating due to…prior circumstances…which left Bruce to be an attendee rather than a fundraiser. It was kind of nice. He got to try new foods. Check things out. Meet a giant yeti. 

“They look good,” Bruce complimented, because they did. They didn’t exactly look vegan, so Damian couldn’t try one, but they did look good. “What’s this one? On the bun?” 

The giant…whatever he was daintily got himself into a folding chair. From his side-satchel came a paperback copy of Elin Hilderbrand’s Summer of ‘69. “Salmon patties on potato buns. My charge assures me that they’re perfectly edible, although we did have to shop around for a suitable vehicle with which they could be eaten.”

Alright, so the guardian had missed the boat on exactly what bake sales were supposed to consist of. So what? The food sounded good, smelled good— and for four dollars, that was a good deal. 

“Keep the change.”

They tasted good, too. “Hey," Bruce exclaimed, "This is pretty grand!”

The yeti’s eyes crinkled around the edges. The muzzle couldn’t exactly replicate a human smile, but Bruce had the distinct impression that this was the equivalent expression. “Thank you. Daniel told me that it was overkill to catch my own fish for the raising of funds, but I always prefer the taste of a fresh catch.” 

With those fangs, Bruce would believe it. He took another bite of what was probably a salmon burger. “Nothing beats fresh-from-the-sea. When I lived in London for a few months, I was very spoiled by the seafood selection.” 

The yeti’s ears swiveled upright in interest. “Oh? I will say, living in Gotham, there is a lack of interesting seafood. The shellfish grows to be as large as my arm in my home territory.” 

Well, that didn’t lower the location down to anywhere in particular. The arctic? The deep ocean? Some vast, unknown world? “Sure sounds more interesting, that’s for sure. Hey, I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you new to the school?” 

The being kindly answered his nosy-enough question. “I have taken temporary leave of my people to care for my charge. As he is mostly human, his elder sister and I came to the decision that the human plane was a better locale for him to grow up in. Gotham city simply has more volatile energy floating around.” 

Bruce’s eyebrows rose up over the rims of his sunglasses. Gotham was their first choice to raise a child in? A not-completely-human child to boot? “You sure about that?” he asked, just to be clear. “It’s not so safe here. We’ve got a guy who blows up buildings for fun. I think we’ve had the most toxic gas leaks…ever, really. I love the place, I grew up here, but man do we have problems!” 

“Hm,” the yeti hummed. “We were concerned about that. Daniel spent the first few nights beating up pickpockets, however, so I foresee that he will likely enjoy the challenge.”

As someone who beats up pickpockets, Bruce had no reliable say on the matter. He took another bite of his salmon patty. He made a note of the issue nevertheless. If there was going to be a new, half-human vigilante in his home territory, that ought to be something he stays abreast of.

“Hey! B! Over here!”

Bruce spotted Duke’s hand a head above the crowd. He waved back; his newest foster edged through the crowd of wealthy parents and their nepo-baby children to make his way over, a cupcake in his hand. “Duke! Find anything good?”

“Yeah!” Duke confirmed cheerfully, raising the cupcake in his hand. He continued his approach. “They had tamarind ones at the stand Mrs. Cheng is running! I got you one just in case you wanted to try it. They were almost out, and—“

Duke paused beside Bruce. And looked up.

And up.

...And up.

Bruce didn’t bother to hide his smile. “I’m getting to know some of the other parents here. Hey, what’re your thoughts on salmon?”

“It’s,” Duke started, thoroughly distracted by the parent’s height, “Good. Um. Hi?”

The gigantic being (he must be, what, nine feet? And balancing on that horrid folding chair the PTA shoves out every year?) roved a yellow eye down to his foster son.

“It’s very nice to meet you, young one,” the parent rumbled, cheery as anything. “My name is Frostbite. You may know my charge, Daniel. He is in his junior year.”

“Danny? Danny Fenton?”

Bruce finished off his burger with a bite. Well, there was curious tone. “Do you know him, Duke?” he asked. The tone wasn’t quite warning, but the edge was to be found in his phrasing.

Duke winced. “Yeah, we…uh. We might have gotten into a fight on his first day. And his second week. …And…last week.”

Bruce. Blinked.

“…And maybe a few hours ago. But to be fair, he has a really punchable face—“

This sounded more like Dick and Jason in their first weeks at Gotham Academy rather than Duke, who was generally better-mannered than most of his brood. (Bruce tended to chalk it up to the effect of being raised largely by loving, attentive parents.)

“But. Um.” Duke shuffled a little closer to Bruce, and a little farther away from the tallest parent to ever grace the pristine lawn of Gotham Academy. “He’s…you know. He’s fine. Usually.”

Thank goodness Alfred was across the way with Damian. He would have disapproved highly of the both of them for this slip.

Still, the gigantic creature only…huffed. Bruce would dare call it a chuckle, even. He popped a barely punctured bookmark into his novel, and gently set it to the side. “My apologies, young one; fighting is a favored form of socialization in our culture. His interest in you is likely genuinely meant, if…rough. Tell myself or his sibling if it becomes unbearable, and he’ll calm down.”

Duke’s lips twisted. “No, it’s not— It’s. Fine? I guess? We like blow off steam and stuff. When I sprained my wrist, he just punched my other arm and bought me ice cream.”

Bruce wanted to judge this kid and whatever parenting style this yeti was putting this kid through. He wanted to pass judgement so badly. But this also sounded exactly like something one of his own kids would do with someone they were friends with.

So.

So he bought a second salmon burger, took an offered bite of Duke’s tamarind cupcake (very generous), and tried to remember everything he could about his brief foray into romance novels. “Say, have you ever read any John Grisham? It’s not quite the same genre, but I’m more of a fan of thrillers myself…”

Honestly, the surreal part was that nothing untoward happened for the entire bake sale. Bruce would happily do this again next year.

[shegananigans]

wrote fic again! featuring aira's insane comphet coping

[krash-8]

finally remembered to finish this . they are so good at taking photos

[sosoribro]

what the FLIP(line studios) is that carlo romano musician and member of the portallinian folk band known as the romano family quartet

[mello-avian]

havent seen anyone else talk about it but at 3:13 in this vod scar calls grian "gree-ohn" and i felt a part of me die hearing scar call grian something sam used to LOL i felt a chill when i heard it fr

[rainystressed247]

Crow father and little sunshine aka I need sustenance TvT

[marvel-sitcom-au]

So I’m working through ships for my au and as I’m doing this all I have to say is….

EliTommy fans where you at?

Team leader x team rebel is always a fun trope + let’s give them both angst over their superhero identities I thinks

[nickfromguesswhohateclub]

I AM SOOOOOO SCAURICEPILLED

[dochudson]

THE COLLECTOR

[yeepof]

I understand that tall men are our POV characters, but surely being like a foot taller than everyone around them would have some occasional consequences

[housederiva]

My housemate's cat came into my room while my dictation was on...

(also here's the fic i was writing when it happened)

[juunipupu]

Knight and the enemy within

[mias-back-from-the-dead]

tbh i think the funniest phenomena that's been happening in the last couple years is "youtuber, having gone too deep into the research hole, has been made an investigative journalist against their will"

[dandylion-s]

Bastille was right. How am I gonna be an optimist about this. Also right about eh eho eho.