#killing me over here

[ricky-mortis]

Young man with potential…

[ngc-5194]

so anyway. aroace flag picked from tsukasa's world link card

+ the rest of wxs + second pass

[ccuriousmischieff]

Big crush on @ccuriousmischieff

🙈🙈 stahpppp it

[lochlot-moved]

tlou has been the only show I've watched where i find myself dreading the next season LOL fucking kill me I am ill

[reborn--maggot]

danger days enjoyers. peculiar question. when you picture the diner how many bathrooms does it have.

[chongoblog]

[lotus-pear]

mourning black and the death of ideals

[unrelatedsideblog]

bleping doodles idk

[xxplastic-cubexx]

personal happiness or what the fuck ever

bonus:

[egophiliac]

just thinking about hair and faces

[umblrspectrum]

hi heres art so you pay attention to me now go read the tags

[jgvfhl]

MIKE!!!!! MIKE THIS IS GOOD!!!!!!

Sometimes I enjoy the thought of Graves being a big flirt because it amuses him to see the reactions to it (He flirts with Rudy because it annoys Alejandro. Rudy jokingly flirts back because he knows Graves doesn't mean anything by it. He also loves when Ale gets clingy after because the sex is fantastic), but when someone actually flirts back his brain just screeches to a halt because he has no idea how to respond when someone is actually interested in him.

Price's Man

Graves centric, NikGraves, PriceNik

___

A lot of people would consider Graves to be a flirt. He always had some pick up line in his back pocket, ready to spring it on some randomly selected individual on 141 base. Graves normally avoided flirting with certain people, such as Ghost.

He didn't feel like getting stabbed over playful, harmless flirting.

Graves would also flirt with people that he knew would flirt back in the same joking manner. Such as Rodolfo Parra. Graves originally started flirting with him to piss off Alejandro, and he was delighted to discover that Rudy also wanted to piss him off.  After several months of this, Graves felt like he had a weird bond with Rudy that was built on with harmless flirting and making Alejandro's face red with rage.

"Hey, cactus blossom. Still in bloom I see~"

Rudy snorts as Graves slides into the chair next to him. Rudy was nursing a cup of coffee while scrolling on his phone. Graves has noticed Rudy doesn't eat in the mess hall in the morning like everyone else and normally only comes in to get some coffee. Unlike Graves who grabs breakfast with everyone else.

"Alejandro is in a foul mood this morning, muñeco. Might wanna tone it down today."

"Oh? Still feeling it from last week?"

It wasn't a mystery what Alejandro did to keep Rudy's eyes on him. It was a big reason why Rudy continued to go along with Graves flirting.

"More like from last night."

"Don't remember seeing you yesterday."

"I might have mentioned you last night and it sent Ale into a... frenzy."

Graves laughs, "God, keep that up and he's going to have an interesting reaction hearing my name!"

Rudy snorts while sipping his coffee, lowering his mug to cover his mouth. Graves grins and takes a bite of french toast, noticing a man walk into the mess. He didn't recognize him and by this point Graves pretty much knew all the faces in 141.

"Who's that?"

Rudy looks over his shoulder, "Him? Nikolai, leader of Chimera. He's with 141 but flies out to deal with his own people."

Graves' eyes widened and stared, "Oh, boss man, huh?"

"As much as I love when you torment everyone with your flirtations, I recommend not trying with him. He's Price's man."

That did nothing to deter Graves. Price was one of Graves' favorites to fuck with, even if the man never had much of a reaction. Flirting with his partner sounds like nothing but a good time. Rudy notices Graves taking a swig of his orange juice, groaning when he sees the man stand.

"Phil, don't-"

"Just going to introduce myself!"

Rudy groans again, louder this time but Graves doesn't pay him any mind. Graves struts over to Nikolai, the man making two cups of coffee, one no doubt being for Price. For some reason Graves was very excited to 'introduce himself'. The man puts a lid on the travel cups and turns, surprised to see Graves.

"Ah, hello."

"Hey, handsome. Don't recall ever seeing you around here."

Nikolai's brows lift in surprise, "I also don't recall seeing you here before, either..."

"Ah, how rude of me. Must've forgotten my manners when I saw you across the room. Phillip Graves, CEO of Shadow Company."

Nikolai looks him up and down, a small smile on his lips. Graves took this as permission to keep going.

"You look like you like sweets."

"Oh?"

"You have a sweet face, have to be fueling it with something. Or is it natural?"

Graves loved trying to be as cringey as possible when flirting, all to get the best reactions out of people. But Nikolai wasn't looking annoyed by his flirting and actually looked very amused. The man set the cups of coffee down and smirks, Graves feeling his heart flutter at the sight.

"Not sweet myself, I have sweet enough company," Graves blinks as Nikolai leans forward, "I prefer them sweet. They need to taste good."

Graves' mind went blank, unable to say anything as Nikolai picked up the coffee cups and walked past him.

"Be seeing you around, Phillip."

Graves turns and watches Nikolai leave, unable to see anything. Graves stumbles back to where Rudy was sitting, dropping back into his seat and staring at his breakfast. He finally looks up and Rudy is staring at him with wide eyes full of disbelief. Neither said anything for a moment, both stunned by the experience. Finally, Graves’ clears his throat and picks up a strip of bacon.

“So, uh… What’s your plans for today?”

“We are not about to ignore what just happened.”

“Really? I am. I was going to head to the gun range and get some rounds in.”

“Phil-”

“Maybe head to the auto shop. Heard one of the Challengers got fucked up and no one can figure out what’s wrong with it.”

“Phil!”

Graves shoves french toast into his mouth and Rudy scoffs. He takes his time chewing, all to avoid talking about what just happened. That did not sound like joking. 

“Can you at least swallow instead of sitting there with your mouth full? You look like a chipmunk!”

Graves swallows, taking a moment to breathe before he looks up, “Is it too early to start drinking?”

Rudy blinks, “Yes it is. It’s 0800.”

“Five o’clock somewhere in the world.”

Graves stands and starts to leave, ignoring Rudy calling after him. As he walked through the halls, he couldn't stop thinking about Nikolai and his very genuine flirting.

Fuck, Price is going to kill me.

[backpackevil]

One last game to end them all

+ lost potential of what could've been

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

---------------

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[regular-gnome]

6. I'm The Collector

First | Previous | Next

[lycandrophile]

i absolutely cannot believe people are trying to start discourse about whether nex benedict was actually nonbinary / whether it was okay for him to describe himself as nonbinary to some people if he didn’t actually identify that way as if he isn’t literally DEAD because he was KILLED. this is a MURDERED CHILD and these monsters are so busy getting mad at the possibility that he might have been a trans boy who described himself as nonbinary to his family because that was easier for them to take that they’re turning a CHILD who was MURDERED into fucking discourse. even when we die at the hands of cis people’s violence, our own community finds a way to make us the villains of the story.

and all of this bullshit on top of the ways that cis people are already trying to say our grief over his death is unjustified. all of this on top of people claiming he wasn’t murdered and speculating on other causes of death (i literally saw someone say he “clearly went home and took the coward’s way out” and i have never been more disgusted) or claiming that he started the fight as if any action on his part could’ve been enough to justify his death. i am haunted by the sound of his father screaming that his child was not filth because that is what people have been saying about this poor kid, that’s how cruelly his memory is being treated, and even the trans community can’t get it’s shit together enough to look past the stupid discourse and see the tragedy in front of us. did you all forget that it was supposed to be up to us to grieve him in the way he deserves when the rest of the world fails to care if people like him live or die? did you all forget that this child was our sibling, the future of our community, a life that we should have had the chance to know and treasure while he was still here but that we now have a responsibility to hold close to our hearts in his absence? nex’s life was precious and it was ended far too soon and if you truly believe that anything is more important than mourning his life and fighting for a world where no more trans people have to meet such an awful fate, you’re a traitor to this community and you do not deserve the place you occupy within it.

i’m so tired. i can’t even imagine how tired his family must be, to see the public treat the child they’re grieving so horribly, to see the world fail their baby again. leave him alone. he was already robbed of peace in life; the least you can do is let him finally have it in death.