#little bat burritos

[bi-writes]

Okay but MOB sitting on Simon's lap, cuddling as they watch some movie Simon picked out because it was his turn. At one point she gets up and he thinks she's just going to use the restroom, hands on her hips to help stabilize her. Only instead of leaving, she turns around and sits on her knees between his legs. She bats her eyes at him but otherwise just soaking in how pretty he is. He probably makes a joke, says he loves her and when he still doesn't move figures she just wants a moment and continues to watch the screen.

When she finally works herself up to it, she starts sliding her hands up and down his thighs and just the sensation and imagery alone has him hard and he can't bring himself to ask her to stop when it feels so nice. Eventually her hands wander up further and she begins to play with the button of his jeans. Still not stopping her, even as she unbuttons and zips them down to pull out his erection. When he finally looks down, she stops and stares innocently up at him.

As soon as his attention's somewhat back up on the screen, she repositions herself and licks a stripe up his dick to bring his head into her mouth to swirl around. He doesn't even last that long and she doesn't let him pull her off when he comes.

Or something like that...

mail-order bride (18+)

simon likes action movies. they're his favorite, by far. he likes to watch the over-the-top car races in the middle of metropolitan cities, he likes big, stupid explosions and when the protagonist has their enemy at the end of their gun and says something cheesy like "you're not going anywhere now."

he told you once that he likes the simplicity. the happy endings. the key recovered, a family saved, the epic conclusion of an explosive journey that always ends in the bad guy in handcuffs and the good guy on a beach sipping a mai tai, getting the girl, saving the world.

you think maybe he likes it because it dampens reality. you have seen the aftermath of an op gone wrong; in this way, simon can fantasize just a little. he can pretend that there is nothing wrong with the world for 90 minutes or so.

what's so wrong with that?

he's so pretty.

he ran errands for you today. came back from the store with a paper bag in his hands, setting it down on the counter and unpacking it. you were sat at the kitchen counter, the orange cat wrapped up completely in a burrito of a towel so you could cut her dagger-like claws without risk of retaliation. simon was watching carefully out of the corner of his eye, but as he unpacked the bag, you had all but melted in your chair.

a refill of your favorite makeup remover (you were going to run out tonight, guaranteed). vitamins (ya look right sick, baby, drink y'r juice). your favorite brand of pads (just tell me which ones, i'll get it right, promise). sour sweets (cherry-flavored, of course, sour because he likes the face you make when you pop them into your mouth). when the last box hit the counter, you had dropped the cat, much to her relief.

condoms. fucking condoms.

no, he's not pretty. simon is so fucking hot.

he doesn't budge when you get up to put the empty popcorn bowl into the sink. when you come back in the room, simon is still staring at the television, eyes trained on the spy on screen hopping between rooftops as they dodge bullets. you bite your lip watching him, unable to stop thinking about simon, simon, simon.

he's wearing nice jeans. straight jeans, but even the extra give doesn't matter when your husband is made of pure muscle and fat. you can see his stomach through his shirt since it's tucked in, white fabric showing off that nice pudge that you love laying your head on, your palm, knowing how solid and strong he most certainly is. nghghhhh, and his arms--big, bulging, tattooed, a perfect canvas for colorful markers or glitter or maybe your tongue.

it's subconscious, really. the carpet is soft under your knees as you kneel at his feet, lowering yourself so you can blink up at him big and wide as he keeps his eyes on the movie. he does notice you, however; his big hand slides down his thigh, and your eyes flutter a little when he passes it over your head then down your face, a pretty little pet between his legs.

"not supposed to be on y'r knees f'me, baby," simon mutters, but you can't answer because his thumb slips into your mouth. you wrap your lips around it absentmindedly, running your tongue over the thick pad of it. "tha's my job."

you sit up on your knees, leaning over him, and he gives you his attention finally, a twitch of a smile as he bends his neck a little and kisses you warmly. you steady yourself by putting your hands on his thighs, gripping the meat of them firm as you slip your tongue into his mouth and draw a low grunt from deep within his chest.

"always working for me, simon," you whisper between kisses. "always..."

fuck, the blood rushes to his cock almost immediately. he has such a soft spot for you. taking care of you, doing things for you, buying you what you need--it makes him so fucking hard thinking about fulfilling every need of yours. you deserve nothing but nice dreams, good meals, happy cats, a well-loved pussy, all the love his broken heart can give. he chubs up in his pants every time you ask him for something.

can you carry this for me, simon?

oh, i need some help with this, baby, just here...

can you get me more of this? i'm about to run out.

the zipper is stuck, simon...can you get me out of this?

ugh, you're his walking wet dream. and you're kneeling in between his legs, his sweet girl pouting up at him, and--oh, fuck--

your hands are soft under his shirt. you've untucked it just enough, your warm fingers sliding along the band of his jeans. he hisses a little, his body stiffening, and you smooth a thumb over his belt before kissing him again.

"you're so pretty, simon," you whisper, and he licks over your bottom lip in response, drawing a soft whine out of you. his thighs widen just a little when he hears the clink of his belt, feeling the waistband loosen as you draw it out from the loops and toss it onto the carpet behind you. "such a handsome man you are..."

"come off it," simon growls a little, and you giggle, freeing the button and slipping your hand down. his mouth falls open in a silent moan as you cup him with a hot hand, fingers sliding under his length to fondle his balls.

"mmm..." you follow his sputtering mouth, breathing him in. "actually, simon...i really, really wanna get on it..."

"wot a brat," simon murmurs, clicking his tongue. "can't be fuckin' patient--ahh!"

you pull him out of his jeans with a firm tug before sticking your tongue out and kneeling back down to lick a curious stripe up the underside of him. simon is pulsing, radiating heat and already leaking beads of stringy pre-cum, and as you suck the tip of him into your mouth, you realize just how thick your husband really is.

you've never seen him quite this naked, quite this up close. when he fucked your thighs, he had felt big, but his cock is truly making a space for itself in your mouth--

"ah!" you gasp as he fists your hair and pulls you off, leaning down to kiss you hard.

"baby--"

"i want it--" you whimper, using your hands, letting the spit from your mouth drip down his cock as your fingers spread it wide, pumping him softly. "simon, please! please! you always say...always say i can have whatever i want, please..."

when he lets your hair go, you dive. you suck him into your mouth, practically purring as you press him back into the couch and suck. he tastes like a man should, like a husband should, musk and a little sweat and just enough soap to have you a little light-headed. with the first bob of your head, simon shudders, a big hand cupping the back of your neck as he drops his chin to his chest to watch you. he uses his other hand to push your hair back, his mouth falling open a little as he watches your eyes roll back in your head as you try to fit more of him into your mouth.

your mouth squelches with every bob. spit gathers around the edges of your mouth, little globs dripping out as you slurp and flick your tongue over every vein and soft patch of skin. you're making a mess of him, all soft mouth and wiggly tongue and gentle moans that make him seize up.

it's not even a minute of your soft sucking, and simon is caught off guard by his own release. he wants to apologize, but you look so fucking pretty, coughing a little around his wet cock.

you don't stop then either.

some of it drips down around your hands, his own cum webbing between your fingers and getting onto the front of your shirt and staining his jeans, but you keep your mouth on him. you nuzzle the head of his cock against the inside of your cheek, pull off just enough to suck so softly on the tip of him.

"baby, fuck--" simon chokes, watching you through lidded, hazy eyes. "please, fuck--"

"i want it," you whisper, smoothing a wet hand down his length. he's getting hard all over again, and he nearly cums a second time when you let your eyes find his and pepper kisses from the tip of him all the way to the base. "don't i get w-whatever i want, simon? c-can't i...can't i have more?"

simon chuckles a little. he uses his thumb to swipe a glob of cum off your chin, bringing it up to his own mouth to suck off with a snort.

"you want more, baby?" simon asks, and you sit back up on your knees, pressing your forehead to his as he eyes your lips. they're a tad swollen, kiss-bitten and wet. "wot more do ya want, hmm? wot is it my wife wants so much, huh?"

you smile, wide, those big eyes sparkling. you give him another slow stroke with your hand, and he hisses, gritting his teeth as he watches your smile get just that much bigger.

"i want you to stop playing games with me, simon," you say softly. "you'll never win. so just give me what i deserve."

"wot you deserve?"

"don't i deserve you, simon?" you ask, and when he fails to answer, you swipe your thumb over his cock, drawing a cracked groan out of him. "you won't make me beg, will you, simon?"

"no," simon pants, leaning further into you, pressing his face to yours. "never. my wife doesn't beg for anythin'."

"you promise, simon?"

"my wife gets woteva she fuckin' asks for. olways."

[nightingale-prompts]

Babying Batboy

First |Previous|Next

"He's all yours Kori!" Dick said holding up the Batboy burrito.

Danny chirped in distress as Starfire picked him up and swung him around in her arms. "You are much smaller than I thought. So little and cute!"

"Let me see, I wanna see his wings!" Beastboy said rushing over to get a look.

"Nightwing, what's that bag for?" Raven asked Dick joining in.

"It's Batboy's diaper bag." As he said this Danny's eyes snapped in his direction with murder in them, daring Dick to even try putting a diaper on him.

"Æah!" Danny babbled angrily.

"Don't worry he is housebroken." He laughed. "I put his supplies inside. His blanket, his bottles, chew toys, and this set of superhero themed pacifiers. You should give him one now. He gets fussy."

Danny turned red with embarrassment. Toddler-sized or not he was not going to be treated like a baby, at least not in front of the Titans.

"Aww, these are so cute. I've never really understood the use of these things since they weren't needed on my planet but I heard human babies need these." Kori laughed picking out the purple and black Raven themed pacifier and pushing it right into Danny's face.

Danny turned his head to avoid it.

"Looks like the little man doesn't want that one." Cyborg laughed picking up the green and purple Beastboy pacifier instead.

Danny turned his head the other way only to have the red and green Robin pacifier lodged in him mouth.

"I was right, he wanted one that matches his dad." Raven said.

"It's still hard to believe you had a kid," Cyborg said to Nightwing.

"I know, I thought my figure would never recover." Nightwing joked.

The group settled in the living room. Danny was still trapped in Starfire's lap, angrily chewing holes in the pacifier. If Dick pulled out baby food Danny would bite him.

"You know he has deformed wings, right?" Gar tried to sound tactful as he pulled one of Danny's wings to full splay. "His wings are only connected to his back muscles and not his chest. They would need more muscle, bone and wing span to fly. Not to mention the base sits so weirdly at his spine. Poor kid."

Danny hiccuped and tears welled up in his eyes.

One of the drawbacks of shifting is that it requires a shift in your mental state. Cravings, behaviors, and emotions change to match. Currently, the bat and toddler parts are overwriting his sensible older brain.

Right now his feelings were hurt because he worked so hard to make his wing and trained so hard to fly.

"Wehh," Danny whined.

"Gar! You know he might understand you!" Kori scolded him as he hugged Danny close to her chest and patted his back.

"Let me get him." Dick said leaning over to take Danny from Starfire only to have Danny smack his hand because this was all his fault this happened.

Danny pouted leaning into Kori.

"Guys Hex High is one!" Cyborg said calling everyone to the TV.

The other Titans scrambled to get a good seat to watch their favorite show.

Danny immediately perked up to watch.

This episode was a rerun. Nicky the android was debating who to ask to the dance. Rosetta Ferns the bush nymph or Alaska North the Yeti. Nicky doesn't know that Alaska was already going with her ex-boyfriend Finley Reef to see if they can make up and get back together.

"Alaska is too good for either of them and Rosetta deserves better than to be a second choice." Gar sneered.

"Finley was always taking advantage of Alaska's sheltered past to get her to do what he wanted. Remember when he told her that no one would eat the Gundruk she made for the potluck because he thought it was gross." Starfire chipped in.

Danny nodded along he fully agreed. Alaska was his favorite.

Dick hadn't actually watched the show but now he was stuck in the middle of the marathon and he finally understood why everyone loved this show.

Raven was actually the biggest fan and loved Whitney Wisteria the Witch.

Danny had successfully chewed through the pacifier only to get a bottle of juice instead because Kori thought he was hungry.

[mochinomnoms]

The second morning Yuu wakes up after becoming Floyd's mate, they yawn, as usual. Floyd interprets that as "I'm horny," as morays do, and, when Yuu tries to go about their daily routine, Floyd does NOT allow it. In his eyes, that would be letting his mate spend all day pent-up and needing to cum, which would be what a bad mate would do. Floyd won't let himself be a bad mate.

One problem: he doesn't have the energy to bang right off the bat, nor the time to let himself gain that energy before fulfilling his mate.

One solution: eating Yuu out first thing in the morning. And then they're panting with their mouth wide open, so back in he dives! Again, and again, until Yuu is too tired to open their mouth that far. Then, of course, like a good mate, he makes them breakfast, feeds them in bed, and carries them to the bathroom to brush their hair and such. Rinse and repeat for a few days.

One morning, Floyd wakes first (as usual) and smells something unusual. His mate wakes up slowly, from the pain, and doesn't yawn. That's odd. Normally, he'd eat them out a few times to satiate them before facing the day.

So, he does the moray thing and sniffs Yuu, because something smells...off. A little like... blood? So, he starts at the neck and moves down to the collarbone, then the chest, then the tummy, then the crotch, where he stuffs his nose RIGHT against his mate's hole- underwear in the way- and freaks the hell out, because his precious Kokoroebi-chan is bleeding. From there, still panicking, he wraps them in the blanket like a burrito and it's away to the nurse!

Screw the door to the infirmary, it's in his way, and now the nurse has to explain periods to a moray on the brink of tears- nope, wait, he's crying. What do you mean, "every month?!" What do you mean, you, "can't just end them?!" What do you mean, "they're natural?!" He doesn't care! His mate's in pain! They're hurting! Do something, bitch! Wha- detention?! Shut the fuck up and help them!

Meanwhile, Yuu is just now realizing that of course Floyd doesn't know what that is, he's a fish.

After that chaos, Floyd tends near obsessively to his mate, doing everything they ask and everything they don't but need anyway, like food. Yuu decides morays are way better than moray for the simple reason of no human male would be this doting and helpful.

-nightshade anon

GOD YOUR BRAIN IS SO BIG IT HAS SO MANY FOLDS I have so many thoughts about this that i simply do not have the time to put INTO WORDS AAAAAAA

*slams fit into table* the urge, THE URRRRGE to write a fic this!!!!

[riot-ghost]

Commissioner Gordon was ostracized within the Gotham Police department. He knew this was because of his ties to the Bat, his late hours, constant overtime. He knew that even the good officers, while he couldn't tell too much who was who, didn't mean to ostracize him. It happened on accident, he's sure. He picked up some clues from the world's greatest detective. Rumors went around, running rampant about him. He just couldn't care so much about them.

Everyone knew that Commissioner Gordon always took his late dinner at 9:37 at night. Everyone cleared from the break room. Gordon opened the door, taking a heavy breath. He was still expecting the empty room. It felt empty, in a way Gordon had picked up from The Bat. He pulled his burrito out of the fridge, opening the styrofoam container and eating a bite. "You're not going to heat it up?" Gordon barely manages to catch his burrito, his whole soul leaving his body.

"Jesus Christ, kid, you scared me." Gordon lets out a heavy breath, seeing the new detective sitting at a table in the corner. He's eating... Something indescribable. He looks tired, his long black hair bulled back into a high ponytail. His face seems disproportionate, large prominent features. A crooked nose, a wide, thin mouth, large eyes accompanied by large bags. His skin was pale, dusted with faded freckles and litchenburg scarring. The young man- still a boy, practically, shrugged at Gordon's words, eating another bite of the odd food. "No one warned you I'd be in here?" Gordon decided to sit with him.

"No, they warned me. But the past couple of days they've been... Avoiding me." Dr. Fenton, Gordon remembers his file passing over his desk. He could never be a cop- he was a detective-by-hire because of some medical condition. Gordon feels a pang at the emotionless words.

"Ah, they avoid me too." Gordon takes another bite of his cold burrito. "So, how have you been enjoying working here?"

"Well, it's been alright, I guess." Fenton took a drink from his thermos- which has a straw in it. It goes unsaid that this was the only job Fenton could really get. Close to the force, anyways. His medical condition refrained him from being a proper officer, so he wasn't officially a Gotham PD detective. He was an out-contract detective, receiving the same work, pay, and hours as the regular detectives.

"Getting around the town well enough?"

"Well enough, I suppose. Almost got robbed." Fenton held three doctorates- criminology, psychology, and natural sciences. All at the young age of 22.

"Almost?" Gordon snorts a bit at that. "Scared them off with your badge?"

"I don't have a badge. And I don't have a gun, if that's what you're thinking. I guess they just thought I was too pathetic to have much cash." Danny shrugged.

"Oh come on, you're not pathetic." Gordon is a bit taken aback that the boy doesn't carry any weapons. He makes a mental note to get him a badge.

"I looked pathetic enough not to rob."

Gordon feels like he missed something there, because Gotham robbers would rob a kindergartner if they were unattended. Regardless, he and Fenton sat in silence for a good couple of minutes. "What are you eating?" Fenton asks eventually.

"A burrito from the Mexican stand on Westwood."

"Why are you eating it cold?"

"Because if I reheat it, then the sauce becomes a solid liquid and everything gets soggy. What are you eating?"

"It was supposed to be stir fry?" Danny stared down at the leftovers container. "I'm not good at cooking. No videos ever make sense, so they don't turn out right."

"Your parents didn't teach you?" Gordon asks.

"No, they weren't the best chefs. They did pass on the family fudge recipe though. I can make some killer fudge." He laughs a little bit at that.

"I'll bring you lunch in from now on." Gordon says. "Until we can get your cooking sorted out, anyhow. Normally my daughter and I spend Tuesday nights fixing dinner together, so you'll get the best meals Wednesday."

"You don't have to do that." Danny seems a little caught off guard by the kindness.

"I can't have one of my youngest detectives going hungry!" Gordon smiles. "Besides, you're the first person in the precinct to eat dinner with me in nearly twenty years. You keep eating with me, it'll be no problem. I enjoy the company." Danny smiles at him and Gordon is reminded of someone, but he can't remember who.

Over the next couple of weeks, Gordon and Danny get well acquainted in their overlapping shifts. Danny works the nights and sometimes early mornings, similar to what Gordon does. Gordon finds himself feeling fatherly to the young man, who's working and picking up significant overtime to pay off his student loans. He learns that Danny moved here from Illinois- it was the only PD he could work at. He had no formal fighting training, but apparently his mom had taught him some moves. They had yet to overlap in the field, and it was easy for Gordon to forget that the boy was really a detective.

"Danny?" Jim paused, having finally made his way to the crime scene. Danny was crouched over a dead body, using his gloved hands to inspect the wound- the word Joker carved using some sort of knife.

"Gordon?" Despite all insistence, the boy still used his last name.

Jim has to stop himself from asking him why he's here. Danny's eyes shift to a spot behind him and James sighs. "What happened?" Batman's voice startled the last officer in the room, who quickly stuttered an excuse and left.

"The Joker broke in, tortured her, and left." Jim says. "We just have to figure out why."

"No, we don't." Danny looked back at the body, his eyes unfocused. "It was political. Do you see the swelling here on the neck? No lacerations, and no bruising. Allergy, I suppose, or a poison that reacts similarly. No clawing at the neck or face, but heavy rope burns on the wrists and ankles. The cuts were sloppy, and from the bleeding, it was done after she had died. Maybe five, ten minutes after? The window wasn't fully closed when it was broken into, do you see how the glass fractured there at the top?"

Jim blinked, and Danny continued. "It doesn't fit the motive of a mad-man like the Joker to do this. Who you're looking for is a woman, younger than the victim, maybe around twenty or thirty?" His eyes unfocused again. "Hmmm." He snaps back, looking around. He stands, his hands shaking a little. He looks around, eyes landing on the shelf. He scans it, using gentle hands to lift the potted plant. He pulls out a camera, unplugging it. "A Direct Link- model E47C." He sets the camera in an evidence bag.

Batman gives a grunt- and if Jim isn't mistaken it was one of approval? Danny held the camera out to Jim. "That was some fine detective work today, kid." Jim sets his hand on Danny's shoulder. Danny glances off to the side nervously. He locks eyes with Batman. "Danny, this is Batman. Batman, this is Dr. Daniel Fenton, the newest detective on the force."

Batman holds a hand out. "I look forward to working with you." Danny pulls off one of the disposable gloves, reaching out to shake his hand. "You're shaking a little, are you alright?"

"Medical condition." Danny answers. "You're taller than I expected."

"It's the ears." Jim represses a smile. "You go ahead and get your deductions filed. I brought pasta." Jim watches Danny leave. He turns to Batman, who's staring him down with that signature I-know-everything™ face. "What?"

"When are you going to let him know that you're mentoring him?" He says it like a sentence, and was that amusement in his tone?

"I'm not." Jim turns to the window.

"You brought him pasta."

"He never learned to cook."

"So you're teaching him." There was definitely amusement in his tone now.

Jim huffed. "We're getting old." He finally sighs. "We both have full grown kids. Crime and corruption are still thick in this city." Batman is standing next to him with a swoosh in his cape. "Retirement... I could see myself with it. Sipping cocktails on the beach. A beach with sunshine and no broken down carnivals."

Batman is silent for a moment, as if considering this. "So you see Fenton taking your place?"

"Like you see your Robin." Jim admits.

[twst-drabbles]

Lilia 14

Summary: What's that you have in your hand? A bat burrito.

(Alright here it be! Bat Lilia is made to be grabbed.)

It's been while, but finally you have the energy and the urge to go through one of your overstuffed closets and just, take stuff out and donate it later. Of course, you're not so arrogant as to believe that you can do it all in one day, or alone, so you called up Crowley mostly because he's the closest one there is.

That and you're pretty sure this closet is a bio and magic hazard, so you'd rather not have the pets rooting around in there.

"Um," Crowley hummed loudly to grab your attention, then fake-coughed when you didn't turn around, cardboard boxes floating behind him.

You shifted the box against your knee, trying to get a better one-armed grip on it. "Something wrong, Crowley? Too heavy?"

"No, no, nothing a little magic can't fix, however," Crowley pointed a claw ringed finger at the magenta bundle in your hand, "what is that?"

"Hmm?" Only then did you turn around and look down. "Oh." You set down the box and lifted your other hand until it was level to Crowley's face. Tightly wrapped in a blanket and bound in twine was a smiling Lilia. His large ears flicked about, nose twitching and clearly trying to snuggle deeper into the blanket burrito you've stuffed him into. "It's Lilia. Had to wrap him up because he won't stop getting into things."

And Ruggie, the hoarder, is sealed in a large air-tight jar with a little fan battery fan to keep him because he hates nothing more than still air. You can't do that with Lilia, obviously, so you opted for this bat burrito method instead.

Crowley blinked, mask going askew before he readjusted it. "Would it be better to put him in a cage? Or that enclosure you had built for Jamil? There has to be better methods than to sacrifice your hand."

Ha. Clearly Crowley does not know Lilia as well as you do.

"Watch."

You then placed Lilia flat on the ground, face first on the floor. One second. Two, then three, then finally, he began to roll around. Light chirps trilled out his throat when he bumped into the leg of an old chair you've forget you had. He rolled back out, even fast this time, into the very cardboard box you set down. You swiped him back up before he could chart a new path. Lilia squirmed, but ultimately blinked his eyes closed and buries his face into the blanket.

"Ah, another troublemaker," sagely nodded Crowley, "Am I ever so glad I don't have to deal with them."

"Yeah yeah."

"Though, how come you don't give me that kind of special treatment? Why, I've practically raised you!"

"Just pick up more boxes, you old crow. I only have one hand to work with."

[suitelif3]

Cabin Lover

rated t | 1.2k | ao3

For @steddiemas, prompts: cabin, cold

**

The dangers of the Upside Down were on rise once more.

Eddie and Steve got separated from Nancy and Robin while trying to investigate in the woods. It was pitch black as Eddie could barely see a thing in front of him. This just had to happen near Christmas, when they should be celebrating together instead of chasing monsters. Eddie clutched Steve’s hand in his so they couldn’t be separated, and stumbled along next to him.

Steve was the more practiced of the two with Upside Down terrors, so Eddie left the navigating to him. But they were still in the middle of the woods, the telltale signs of frost incoming, with no way to see. Eddie was starting to panic.

“Holy shit man! This is not good. We need to find the girls, they’re probably freaking out too, well at least Robin is. And I can’t see shit man, how’re you seeing anything?!”

Steve tugs on his hand. “Eddie, they’re probably fine. Nancy can take care of herself, she’ll make sure nothing happens to Robin. And I just have some practice lurking in the dark.” The nailed bat dangles from Steve’s other hand.

“We need to get out of these woods though. I don’t want anything jumping out at us when we’re not together.” Steve says.

They continue walking, trying to find any direction where the trees aren’t going for miles.

What if they die in these woods? Eddie would’ve never told Steve how he felt, how much all those hangouts with him when recovering meant to him. How much Steve took care of him when he needed it. How Steve is still taking care of him. What if he never gets another chance to tell him because they die in the woods by some creature that surprises them. Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand.

“Hey Steve-“

“Look!” Steve points to a dinky old cabin in the distance. The windows are dark, the wood splintering, and it seems pretty abandoned. But it’s shelter and it’ll do.

They walk faster toward the cabin, keeping aware of their surroundings. The wood creaks under their feet, but they continue in and slam the door behind them. Steve puts the bat down near the door.

It finally feels like Eddie can breathe. He can calm down without the vast darkness around him, not knowing what lurks in the shadows. Now they have this little cabin with walls, and is surprisingly furnished.

There’s a couch in the living room. A little coffee table in the center. Another room coming off of it, which seems to be the bedroom with just a mattress on the floor. Eddie really hopes it’s not as dirty as the one he had in his trailer nine months ago. There’s a bathroom attached to the bedroom, with a shower and everything. The kitchen is near the entrance, and only has a few canned items in the cabinets. But they have a stove.

All in all, not a bad place to spend the night hiding from monsters.

“Here.” Steve pulls a lantern from one of the cabinets, lighting it with a match.

The glow cascades softly on Steve’s face, orange from the flame bringing out the warmth of his eyes.

“Should we figure out the sleeping situation?” After trampling through the woods for so long, Eddie was thoroughly exhausted, he wanted to pass out as soon as possible.

“Yeah, good idea. I can take the couch, and you can take the mattress?”

“Sure, do you think they have any blankets in here?”

“Wouldn’t hurt to check.”

Eddie starts rummaging through the cabinets again, hoping to find anything he could wrap around and call a blanket.

“Aha!” Steve pulls out two thick woven blankets.

Eddie sags in relief.

He remembers to close the curtains so their light doesn’t attract anything waiting to kill them.

Steve hands him a blanket.

“Thanks Stevie.” Eddie smiles at him softly.

“Goodnight Eddie.” Steve stares at him for a beat, then turns toward the couch, pulling the blanket over.

Eddie dips onto the mattress, checking for bugs or stains. He gets comfortable after seeing nothing. He wraps the blanket around him like a burrito, trying to get every inch of his exposed body under the warmth of the wool.

About half an hour in, Eddie is still shivering more than he thought possible. The cracked wood of the cabin not offering much insulation. The darkness making him feel the chill down to his bones. He wonders if Steve is any warmer.

“Steve!” Eddie whisper-shouts. “You still awake in there?”

“Yeah!” Steve whisper-shouts back.

“Are you cold?”

“Freezing.”

Before he loses his nerve, he asks Steve, “Do you want to come sleep in here?” The with me is implied.

“Sure.”

He hears Steve creep into the room, seeing his silhouette near the mattress. Steve falls onto it, and splays the blanket over him. He immediately crowds Eddie, huddling for more warmth. Eddie’s face is red hot now.

Eddie unwraps the blanket from around him, and shuffles closer to Steve. When their skin is touching, Eddie whispers, “Can I put this over you so we can use both?”

Steve nods lazily. “That’s a good idea, we can use our body heat and have both blankets over us. Hopefully it’ll warm us up quicker.”

“Bright as always, Stevie.”

Steve brushes a hand down Eddie’s arm, stopping on his waist. Goosebumps rise on his skin and he brings an arm up to rest on Steve’s shoulder. They have the two blankets stacked on top of them lying together.

“You know, you’re one of the only ones that thinks I’m smart.” They speak quietly to each other, filling the barely left space between them with their words.

“What do you mean? The kids love you and Robin thinks you’re smart for sure.”

“The kids might love me, but that doesn’t mean they think I’m bright. And sure, deep down Robin knows I’m smart but her nickname for me is still dingus. You’re the only one that says I’m smart or bright to my face.”

“Well I’ll keep telling you that then.”

Steve pulls Eddie in by the waist, so they’re flushed together, Eddie burrows into his shoulder.

“Does it bother you?”

“What?”

They slowly tangle their legs together.

“That Robin calls you dingus?”

“No, not at all, I know she means it in a lovable way, and she’s not calling me stupid or anything, it’s just I know I have more stupid moments than smart ones and it’s just a constant reminder.”

“Hmm, I think you’re really smart, Steve. More than anyone gives you credit for, including me. You’re more than just the muscle fighting these monsters. You have good strategy and I-we need you.”

“I need you too.”

Steve squeezes his arms around him briefly.

“Steve…” Eddie looks up at him.

“I do. I need you to help me corral the kids, to be there with me and Robin. Just seeing you brightens my day, I love being around you, talking with you. I love you, Eddie.”

“I love you too.” He says breathlessly.

He pulls Steve in by his sweater.

Steve’s lips are soft, moving in sync with Eddie’s. He parts his lips and pushes his tongue into Steve’s mouth. It’s warm, Steve’s tongue pushing against his. Eddie brushes a hand over the back of Steve’s neck, tangling his fingers into the nape of hair there.

His sleepy mood makes him more pliable. Steve pulling him in, he barely resists. Steve’s hands travel, dipping into his hips, splaying across his back, tracing down his arm. Eddie has a hard time remembering how cold he was in the first place.

He just feels the warmth from Steve’s body, losing himself in the allure of Steve’s lips.

[safe-without-railings]

I fuck with whoever started the Batman crossovers with Danny Phantom and Spiderman/Spiderverse

Black Bat/Orphan/Cassandra Cain x Peter Parker is my favorite It Couple™️. They're like little spookies that can telegraph their thoughts through their movements with dancing as their love language?!?!?!? My heart 💘💘 No words needed, but every word was said. This dynamic screams Bad Bitch pulling a little guy, picked him up from the trash heap and everything. Burritos him and gives him little trinkets for his nest as he gives her criminals as presents.

Also a big kiss on the brain for the undead alive couple Jason Todd x Danny Fenton. There is something so valuable about meeting someone not quite like you yet experienced a thing you live with that's just qcbqojbx1jpbqdpj 🤌✨️✨️ and every single time Danny is in that world he heals Jason and I'm just bawling from the tenderness of it all. No rewards, just,,,, helping waaaaaahhhh.

Soulmates, your honor, both platonic and romantic 💕💕💕

Also, I love how no matter the fandom, somehow Red Hood is having the adoption tendency. Like????? What's with these bright-eyed, naive, dimension hoppers landing in Crime Alley???? Your gonna get mugged or worse.

Become a vigilante (Jason and the BatFam always get blindsided that the are, in fact, vigilantes already)

Me on my way to hit Bruce and point fingers later on his emotional constipation, causing Meta endangerment in every fic

Look at these beansss. There is no source of bad vibes here, Detective. Just some guys trying to make ends meet in a random debilitated building that they finally got power to work in.

Sure, one feels comfortable hanging upside down and the other floating in the air to relax. If you had the ability, wouldn't you be the same???

[mj-iza-writer]

caretaker rescuing bat human hybrid whumpee and whumpee is terrified. they're making scared/threatening bat noises to warn caretaker to get away from them, but caretaker needs to get them out before whumper comes back

how do we feel about this?

"SQU...SQU...SQU", Whumpee yells as they frantically struggle into the corner. "Stay away from me", they cry as they pull their shredded wings around them, "I'm still worth something, even without my wings. Please Whumper don't kill me."

"We are not here because of Whumper. We are trying to get you out of here before they get back. This way you'll be safe while they get arrested", Caretaker gently approaches with a blanket, "I really need you to cooperate with me. We don't want to hurt you."

"Then what are you going to do with me. I know Whumper wants me dead. That's why.... my wings... I haven't been able to fly away from them. You're going to hurt me", Whumpee gets up to try to get away, "I don't want to die."

"We won't kill you", Caretaker finally lunges at Whumpee. They throw the blanket on top of them and hold them down, "stop, stop. You are going to cause yourself to get hurt if you don't hold still."

"Squeak", Whumpee whimpers as they struggle against Caretaker.

More blankets get carried over to Caretaker.

Whumpee struggles as they are wrapped and rewrapped.

They finally settle and bury their face into the blankets.

Caretaker settles a little and pats the blanket, "it's okay. Here I know you are starving", they pulled out a bag of grapes.

Whumpee looks up shyly and takes one of the offered grapes.

Caretaker smiles as Whumpee's saddened eyes light up. Their tongue goes in and out as they eagerly munch. They quickly look for another.

"Yes Whumper has had a hard time getting you . You've done so well to fight against them. Unfortunately they resorted to starving you", Caretaker watched as Whumpee looked up with full cheeks, "yes, you poor dear. I'm going to take care of you now. I am a scientist and I have a lab much like this one, but you'll be safe there. They're trusting you into my care."

"They", Whumpee finally swallowed their mouth full.

"Yes, someone who worked under Whumper wanted to save you. They reported this lab and illegal experiments. Unfortunately we are too late to save you from experimentation, but thankfully we saved you from dying. Come now let's get you home."

Whumpee crawled across the floor of their room.

Caretaker had left a giant stuffed toy for Whumpee to cuddle with so they wouldn't be alone.

Whumpee looks up when their door opens.

"I got you some yummy treats", Caretaker carries a tray in, "all the fruit you can eat."

"Squeak... zzz.. squ", Whumpee's eyes widen in excitement. They quickly look down when Caretaker gives them an odd look.

"Sorry", they whisper, "I do that when excited."

"Don't be sorry. It's adorable", Caretaker sets the tray down, "come here, I'll carry you over here so you can eat."

"Oh uhm", Whumpee blushes.

"Do you need something my dear?", Caretaker pauses.

"Would.. would you wrap me in the blanket again? I-it felt good when you did it during the rescue", Whumpee looks toward some blankets.

"Yes, I can do that", Caretaker nods, "I'll wrap you up first, and I'll help feed you."

"I don't want to trouble you that much", Whumpee starts to climb off of their stuffed toy.

"It's not trouble", Caretaker smiles, then grabs a blanket to spread out, "I want you to be comfortable."

Whumpee nervously shrinks back when Caretaker approaches.

"It's alright, I promise you're safe", Caretaker smiles, "I won't hurt you."

Whumpee nods.

They hold on tight while Caretaker carries them to the blanket.

"There, a Whumpee bat burrito", Caretaker wraps the last part of the blanket around Whumpee, "nice and comfy?"

Whumpee quickly nods, "thankyou. This is really nice."

"You're welcome. Now let's see what kind of fruits you like. I have a lot for you to try", Caretaker sits down beside Whumpee and starts offering them bites of cut up fruit.

"I might be able to get use to this", Whumpee smiles as Caretaker offers more food.

"I'm glad you are liking it here so far", Caretaker smiles back, "I'll have a bigger room for you in a little while. I don't know if I'll be able to salvage your wings, but we can see. My goal is to get you comfortable right now, then we can start heaing."

Whumpee blinks tiredly as they nod.

"It looks like you are getting tired again", Caretaker sets some fruit aside, "we can finish eating that later."

Caretaker cradles Whumpee in their arms and carries them to the giant stuffed animal.

Whumpee yawns as they are laid onto the toy.

"Get some rest little one", Caretaker pats their head, "you deserve it."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @castiels-favorite-hunter

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf

@thenormalestever @whatwhump

@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation

@bacillusinfection

[kekaki-cupcakes]

hiii could i request a oneshot of nico di angelo x nb!child of nyx! reader, pretty please?

ofc you can babes! this isn't explicitly a non binary reader but its gender neutral. enjoy

Nico x Child of nyx!reader

—--------------------------------ʚ🍓ɞ--------------------------------------

You squinted at the laptop in front of you. It had heated up during the hour you’d already spent tapping away on it and now your lap was unusually warm. 

That was what happened when you had to use a shitty piece of tech from ten years ago technically you weren’t even supposed to have it. Not that Chiron knew about the wifi signals that permanently radiated from the hephaestus cabin and thankfully reached your cluttered cabin and therefore the pillow filled bed you were lounging on. You scrolled down past all your imputed details and clicked BUY. 

The last message flashed up at you on the ticket page. 

Thank you for purchasing : x2 Mythomagic Convention Tickets 

You giggled evilly to yourself, like you were plotting world domination and not a cute and thoughtful gift. Then you slid the laptop off your thighs so you wouldn’t get a permanent USB port imprint in your skin. 

It wasn’t night yet, but one peek out the drawn curtains of your window told you dinner was over. Demigods trailed back from the pavilion in throngs, heading to the beach or the basketball/fireball court or whatever else diurnal people did with their time when the sun was out. 

That thought reminded you that it was pitch black in your cabin. You stood, stepping over one of those inherited treasure chests you hadn’t worked out how to open to turn on the antique lamps that were scattered around your home. 

Nico collected them. He liked antique things. So did you. Well, you liked him, which was pretty much the same thing. 

The warm yellow lights created shadows as well as spotlighting the sleeping bats in the rafters and the bookshelves filled with burned down candles and plants that didn’t need photosynthesis and multiple jars of cookies. 

One of said shadows stretched its inky tendrils out until there was enough room for your favorite visitor to stroll through. 

Only stroll was a polite way of putting it. 

“CLOSE IT! SHUT THE-”

“Okay, okay!” you shrieked, dropping the cookie jar and waving your hands at the shadow behind your panting and disheveled boyfriend. The cyclops arm that had reached out to grab him was pulled back into the shadow.

Nico shook rain and monster dust out of his hair, pulling a thoroughly wet jacket off himself. “There's cyclops dust in my shoes,” he grumbled. 

You lit a candle and put it down on the floorboards. The shadow vanished. No chance of cyclops invasions. 

“What on Olympus have you been up to, Casper?” You asked. 

“You know Casper’s the name of the ghost, not the person who can see…” he squinted at you for a moment and then rolled his lips inwards. “Nevermind. I was trying to do my job but then Piper sent me one of those videos of that singer again… and the monsters tracked it.”

“Chappel Roan’s worth it,” you said understandingly, and flopped onto your bed. 

Nico picked up his jacket and took his shoes off. They were leaving puddles on the moon shaped rug. He put them all in the dryer you had running next to the minifridge. 

He sniffed, “who?”

“Nevermind.”

You moved some of your pillows out of the way so he could snuggle next to you. You wrinkled your nose at his post battle/shadow travel smell, and handed him a fluffy blanket before he caught a cold and spent a week in here sniffling and moping while you force fed him soup. 

Not that you were against the idea, but sickness ment no kisses and you were strongly against that idea. 

“It was boring,” he continued, looking like a burrito, and shuffled his toes underneath your hot water bottle. It had smiley faces all over it. “What did you do today?”

You wiggled in excitement a little. He was gonna be so happy. 

Nico narrowed his eyes. “Did you kidnap another nocturnal animal to keep as a pet?”

“No,” you huffed, and reached for the overheated laptop, pulling it towards the both of you. Someone screeched like an owl outside. It was followed by the sound of what was probably most of the Hermes cabin laughing. 

You handed it to him, “have a look at what we’re doing next weekend.”

He narrowed his eyes even more, and then fetched his reading glasses out of his front pocket, sliding them on to squint at the screen.

“I’m attracted to an old man,” you whispered to yourself, horrified.

“OH MY GODS! OH MY GODS! WE’RE GOING TO-”

“Hell yeah we are!” You yelled back, as he shook your shoulders and nearly kicked everything off your bed. “We got front row tickets to absolutely everything, and Katie’s gonna drop us off on her way to-”

You were cut off when he lunged forwards and kissed you. 

It wasn’t a very good kiss, cause you were both grinning too hard, but you tangled your fingers through his wet hair and pulled him closer. His lips were so soft. 

“Someone’s excited,” you smirked. 

—--------------------------------ʚ🍓ɞ--------------------------------------

[sunnywiththestars]

Hi! Do you have any BuckTommy fic recs?

yes!! here you go!!!

I tried to tag anyone's tumblr that i could find but there were a few i couldn't so it's only straight to the fic on ao3

you keep his shirt, he keeps his word by perfectlysunny @perfectlysunny02

"Evan, baby, you okay? It’s late. I thought Chimney’s party was tonight.” “Tommy,” Buck gasps, almost dropping his phone in his excitement . “You’re here. See that, Eds, magic is real. He’s here.” “Sweetheart, you called me, remember,” Tommy says. “Evan, baby, are you drunk?”

A (Not So) New Hoodie by littlebipolarsunshine

In which Buck doesn't look very closely when putting on a hoodie before going to work.

Pancakes, kisses, and a little bit of TLC by theotherlucifer @theotherbuckley

“Evan?” Tommy asks, his voice deep and gravelly. If it were any other day, Buck would find that incredibly attractive. Unfortunately, he isn’t able to enjoy it. Now that he’s aware of the pain in his leg, it only seems to get worse. His leg throbs; it feels like his bones are trying to bully their way out of his flesh. He clenches his eyes shut as he wills the wildfire that burns through his limb to calm down. “‘M fine,” he gets out through a clenched jaw. Tommy squints at him, tilting his head to the side. “Evan,” he repeats in a way that Buck knows means he doesn’t believe him for a second. (or Buck wakes up with a chronic pain flare-up the morning after, and Tommy takes care of him)

Hold me on my bad day by disasterbuckdiaz @bidisasterevankinard

Tommy had a bad day, has an awful morning he starts as blanket burrito, but his boyfriend's cuddles make it better

the universe is screaming (are you listening?) by pigalle

Buck, still running on frantic panic of being late, stops short. When he looks down at himself, he sees that he is indeed wearing one of Tommy’s LAFD Air Operations t-shirts. “Uh,” Buck says, ever so eloquently. “Why are you wearing Tommy’s shirt?” Chimney asks, and really, that’s a valid question. Or, 5 times the universe conspires to reveal Buck and Tommy’s relationship, plus 1 time it’s quite obvious

come and save me from it by devirnis @devirnis

“Dinner and a show,” Evan comments, his eyes zeroed in on where Tommy’s sleeves are pushed up to his elbows. “Maybe I should get sick more often.” Tommy flicks a small piece of ginger at him. “If you wanted me to cook for you, all you had to do was bat those pretty eyelashes of yours.” It happens so quickly. One second Evan is grinning exhaustedly at him, and the next thing Tommy knows, Evan’s eyes go wide as what little colour he has left drains from his face. Tommy makes an aborted move towards him, but Evan shoves his chair back from the island and bolts for the bathroom.

Right In Front of Me by Princessfbi @princessfbi

Tommy’s brows knitted together as his mouth turned down with worry. “Evan,” he said and Buck wanted to hear him call his name so many more times. “What happened? Did someone choke you?” “That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Buck said, clearing his throat again when his voice gave an embarrassing squeak.

Like a Music That's Been Transposed by Faillen @faillen

“Hey there, stunner,” Tommy murmured against his mouth once they’d pulled away. “Stunner?” Evan asked, smile bunching up his cheeks. “That’s a new one.” “Mhmm,” Tommy said, pressing a kiss to one of those lovely red cheeks. “You like it?” Evan ducked his head, “Yeah, that one’s uh. That’s pretty good.” His eyes cut back to Tommy and his mouth twisted into a thoughtful moue. “I don’t really have any for you.” “Eh,” Tommy said. “I’m not a big endearment guy.” Or: Tommy grows into his name.

do you mind? im pining by tinygiantsam @watchyourbuck

He slammed his glass onto the table, sitting upright as he coughed into his hand. His eyes watered, but he couldn’t tear them away from the scene before him. He hadn’t imagined it. They were holding hands. OR: 7x05 spec fic. Buck and Tommy have their first date. Eddie is jealous about it. (Includes Buck and Tommy making out at the loft + Eddie dealing with complicated feelings towards his best friend).

those hands pulled me from the earth by star_shot (throw one of my own in there-)

Tommy’s eyebrows were raised as he stood and waited for an explanation. “I believe that I promised you a dance tonight.” Buck says, a softer smile graces his lips. “It is 4 o’clock in the morning.” -- OR - after the disaster of the day, Buck still finds a way to fulfill his promise to Tommy.

a lovely collection of fics, happy reading!!

and anyone else please feel free to add on another other bucktommy recs you have or even your own works!

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

(I meant Drac, shit. How does Drac feel about being in Dead By Daylight?)

Dracula, sitting in his throne room, scrolling on his phone: It does not take forty goddamn minutes to deliver a bean burrito.

*Ash Williams and Laurie Strode burst into his Throne Room*

Dracula: Oh cool! Dinner and a show! *tosses his phone away* Suck it uber eats, get your game up.

Ash: Is this the vamp, Laurie?

Laurie: What? No, Ash, we're supposed to be in a DIFFERENT Castle hunting a DIFFERENT guy with black and red robes on.

Dracula: Is vamp meant to be some kind of slur? Cause I can think of like ten better ones right off the bat.

Ash: So, how do you wanna do this? You rush him and I take him from the side?

Laurie: Why do I always have to be the one to rush the monster?! You're the one with the Chainsaw Hand!

Dracula: I'm being very polite. I'm being very polite allowing this conversation to continue.

Ash: Look, the entity left me in charge-

Laurie: Oh, here we go! Mister older and wiser as if he could ever hold down a-

*they bicker longer as Dracula sighs and stands up*

Dracula: Aaaaaaadd times up *claps his hands, silencing them* So tell me kids! How exactly were you planning on getting rid of me?

Ash: The only way anyone can gank a vamp. *revs his chainsaw*

Laurie: By taking their head off. *brandishes knife*

Dracula: Ah, well, that's step one? What about two through ten?

Ash: ...

Laurie: ...Come again?

Dracula: Let me ask you something, kids. *Andrew W.K.'s Ready to die starts playing over the castle loudspeakers as Dracula prepares to go on a very enthusiastic walk* Do you know why I keep my door unlocked?

Ash: Uh...

Dracula: So I can let in foolish little children with daddy issues to come on in. *draws sword* Call me the DUMBEST slur I've ever heard in my life! And allow me to cancel my Uber Eats.

Source: https://www.youtube.com/@LampLeg

[thethirdtriplet]

Head cannon for the Batkids:

So, we’re all aware that out of all Bruce’s kid Tim is the only one that’s ever gotten away with lying to him on more than one occasion.

And we know how smart he is, right, so if over the years he just keep doing it, lying to Bruce, about small things that wouldn’t really harm anyone. Just so he could observe and keep track of how much he can get a way with, for future reference of course.

But he gets so good at it that Bruce, Bat “the most paranoid person on the planet” man, immediately trusts his words, just like that.

Honestly why wouldn’t he? Tim hasn’t given him anything to doubt. He’d been carful over the years. 1-Hiding his tracks, 2-being overly truthful, 3-keeping his reputation as clean as possible.

1-He breaks something? Bruce wouldn’t know, cause he hid the evidence, bought a replica or straight up gaslights Bruce into thinking it never existed.

2-He stirs up trouble with the YJ, he’d tell Bruce with all honesty what happened, to the point where Bruce just expects the truth when Tim reports a mission to him, unbeknownst to him, that half of it is lies.

3-He keeps this up in his years as Robin to stay in his good graces, obviously, he’s polite, diligent, reliable and responsible, who wouldn’t trust a boy that’s so mature for his age?

Of course then his sibling find out about this certain skill of his and employ him to lie for them.

——————————

Dick, broke a chandelier he was not supposed to be swinging on? No problem; Timmy’s on it:

Dick: *tries giving Tim the puppy dog eyes that have virtually no effect on him*

Tim: *sends him an unimpressed look*

Tim: Bruce, just look at that ancient looking chandelier and tell me it wasn’t going to fall on someone’s head one day or the other?

Bruce: …

Tim: *sighs exasperatedly*

Tim: Do you have such little faith in your own son that you would believe he would endanger himself doing something that could potentially injure him, that you specifically told him not to do.

Tim: *sends a pointed look towards dick*

Dick: *sends him a sheepish smile*

Bruce: …

Bruce: *relents*

Bruce: I guess you’re right.., and the chandelier is quite old,..I’ll have to buy a replacement..

Bruce: *walks away*

Tim: You owe me, for this.

Dick: Yeah, I know, but thanks anyway Timmy!

——————————

Jason, scratched the Batmobile, he wasn’t permitted to drive? Bribe Tim; to deal with Bruce:

Jason: I’ll cook for you, anything you want, as payment.

Tim: *sighs*

Tim: Bruce, are you really sure you were careful with the Batmobile, last nigh? I seem to remember, you were in quite a rush to catch up to two-face, who was escaping in his getaway car.

Bruce: I checked on it last night, and don’t remember any scratches…

Tim: You were dead on your feet last night, barley even able to change out of your gear, write a full report, then head to bed, it shouldn’t be surprising that you missed a few scratches on the car.

Bruce: …

Bruce: I guess so… I’ll just have to keep a more attentive eye on it, next time…

Bruce: *walks away*

Tim: I’ll be expecting breakfast burritos, to appear on my plate, in the morning.

Jason: You can expect anything you want, and I’ll make it happen, after that save, nerd-bird.

——————————

Damian, snuck in an injured cat to take care of, before sending them off to the shelter? ‘Force’ Drake, to help:

Damian: While I usually wouldn’t resort to you for assistance, Drake, I must reluctantly admit, I am in need of it.

Tim: I’ll only agree, if you name the cat Drake.

Damian, who already named the long haired, black furred, blue eyed cat, after Tim: Very well.

Later on:

Bruce: *spots the new cat*

Bruce: Tim, is it just me or does Alfred the cat look.. different.

Tim: I’m not sure what you’re talking about, B.

Bruce: I could have sworn his eyes were yellow, not blue?..

Tim: Are you sure, though? Perhaps you’re mistaken. Maybe it’s a trick of the light? There’s a lot of reasons, as to why you could have mistaken the cat’s eye colour.

Bruce: …

Bruce: I guess… if you say so…

Later, later on:

Damian: Drake, Drake, the cat, has been adopted, as of late, by a loving and nurturing family (as loving and nurturing a family can be, in Gotham).

Tim: Cool.

——————————

Cassandra wants Bruce to attend her recital, but he’s busy? Ask Tim for help:

Bruce: Odd, I remember I had a few more cases to finish today…

Tim: Ohhh, those? Yeah, you gave them to me, not long ago.

Bruce: …I did?

Tim: Yeah! Just last night, when you told me you promised cass, you’d attend her recital, tonight. So I suggested, to handle those cases for you.

Bruce: …

Bruce: That does seem like something I’d do, thanks for reminding me, Tim, I’m glad I can count on you.

Tim: Of course, B.

Later on:

Cass, hugging Tim; to show her appreciation.

——————————

Duke, may or may not have skipped school after first period? Get Tim to help:

Tim: Bruce, is the school absolutely sure, he hadn’t attended his classes, I mean you can obviously see, from the security camera, that he entered the school gates this morning.

Bruce: The teachers stated that he didn’t answer when his name was called in class, and that they didn’t see him all day, on school grounds. None of the security cameras captured any sight of him, other than when he entered, through the gates.

Tim: Ohhh, I see, he must’ve been honing his bat-skills, you know sneaking around, undetected, in school, that must be why no one noticed him, not even the security cameras.

Bruce: …

Bruce: You’re right. I’ll be speaking to the principal about the staff’s inability to locate him, when he was obviously on school grounds.

Bruce: Then, I’ll talk to Duke about refraining from using his bat-skills in our civilian lives. Even if it’s for training purposes. Although I’ll have to commend him, for attending the whole day, undetected.

Later on:

Duke: Are you sure I can’t do something to repay you, I mean, you saved my hide, just now.

Tim: Well.. there is this new juice bar I’ve been wanting to check out, I could use the company.

Duke: No way! I heard about it too, hold on let my grab my phone, then we can head out.

[a-tortured-poets-quill]

Bad Mental Health Days with Laughing Jack Headcanons

I haven’t been feeling the best mental health wise lately. Today was particularly jarring so I decided to write this before finishing up what I’m working on right now.

Jack has been accused of not being very observant, but he likes to think he is where you are concerned.

He knows something is wrong pretty much off the bat, but he’s unsure of how to approach the situation. He doesn’t want to come off too strong, understanding that sometimes social interaction can be difficult in moments like these.

However, your well-being is incredibly important to him, and he cannot express enough how much he is here for you, with you, even if it means sitting on opposite sides of the couch quietly existing in each other’s company.

When you ask him to hold you, he sighs in relief, his eyes tender, sweet, and warm; the urge to protect and care for you blazing hot in his chest.

Jack might have needed to convince HIMSELF that he would let you be if needed. If he had his way, he’d keep you close, tucked safe at his side.

Grabbing a blanket, he lifts it up around him like a cape, hovering over you with a mischievous smile before pouncing.

It’s burrito time.

As long as you need it, Jack lays there with you, overcome by the idea that he gets to have you in his arms, and encourages you to talk about any little joy you have. What’s your current hyper-fixation? How is that show you’re watching? The book you’re reading? What song did you last listen to? Jack wants to hear all about it. He’s attentive. He’s interested.

If you want to talk about what’s bothering you, he’s all ears. He would never tell you that what you’re feeling is invalid or silly or less than, because these are your feelings, and they are real. They are okay. You are okay.

Jack will do everything in his power to make sure you know that. He will spend a lifetime of bad mental health days with you because you are you. And that is everything to him.

Divider link

[hokusu]

🍁🍂 The quiet bridge between summer humidity falling into autumn cold always takes him by surprise. 

Hawks rolls out of bed before the sun even rises only to have a full body shiver from the cold of his toes against the floorboards all the way through each span of his wings. He lets out a little squawk, his body deciding right then and there nope and dives right back into the pile of warmth that's still curled up on his bed.

Hawks whines and burrows his face into the crook of Dabi's neck, pulls the long warm limbs onto his own until he's properly embraced and heated right back up.

A sleepy chuckle appears by his ear, but the arms pull him in tighter, leg thrown over his own and wraps him up under the weight of their blanket. 

"Is it time already?"

"It's cold," Hawks mumbles in confirmation, clinging onto Dabi and all his wondrous heat like he has no intentions of ever letting go. 

Dabi pecks a kiss against Hawks' forehead and heats up his fingers, running them down Hawks' back, between the soft downy feathers and the base of his spine. Hawks melts under his touch and sighs contently. "Hm... should I start heating the house before you rise?"

Hawks snuggles in deeper, voice muffled against his neck as he exhales a quiet breath, "Please."

And it tugs his heart. 

It's something Dabi started doing for him without ever having been asked. The villain who would sneak in at three or four in the morning on colder nights and turn the heated floors on, just in time to let it warm the house before his early bird rises. Something to welcome Hawks so his little bird wouldn't freeze when he rolled out of bed at the ass crack of dawn. Imagine Hawks' pleasant surprise when he'd first landed on toasted floors on another cold morning. 

Even when Dabi started falling into bed at the same hours as Hawks, he'd sneak out of bed just an hour before Hawks would rise to do the very same. Bless his villainous heart, there's no villain in him when it comes to Hawks. 

Dabi gives him another pat, let's the feathers run off his fingers and then makes to get out of bed to do just that, but Hawks tugs him tighter, grip against the blanket and his waist, legs tangled in his own like they've become one giant burrito and refuses to let go. 

"Birdie... you're gonna have to let go for me to do that," he muses. 

"No."

"No?" Dabi repeats in amusment. 

"It's cold," Hawks protests again.

Dabi casts his eyes back down at the clingy bird, something softening inside him as he relaxes back into bed. "You have patrol to get to soon don't you?"

Hawks makes an indistinguishable noise and Dabi laughs softly, hands pulling his bird ontop of him fully as he resumes combing his fingers against Hawks' wings. Heated fingers against every feather, every vane. Sometimes he still thinks it's insane that Hawks lets him do this. Let's his fire come so close to all the fragile pieces of him and doesn't even bat an eye. 

"Breaking news... Pro-hero Hawks turns villain full time to avoid the cold. What would the world think?" 

"That I need a permanent body warmer to cling to me."

"You'll fly me around all day?" Dabi asks with another laugh. 

"Maybe I will."

"I think," Dabi muses. "That would ruin your image. A villain on your back? Scandalous."

"Maybe I don't care anymore," Hawks huffs. 

"You don't mean that, little bird," Dabi breathes softly. 

"And if I do?"

"Then I'll hold you to your words," Dabi dares lightly. 

Because there's no place for them outside, what they have only stays behind closed doors and villain bases, away from prying hands and the eyes of the public. But sometimes... sometimes Hawks stubbornly tells him otherwise, like he'd throw it all away in a heartbeat. 

"And I'll make it a reality," Hawks promises so easily.

Like he means every word of it. 

And Dabi, wants to believe him.

[captainnameless]

Hello! I hope you are doing AWESOME!

I just had a small request. It is 89 degrees and sunny where I am and was wondering if we could have a fic where all of the Littles (lando, Oscar, charles, George, and max) having a pool day and some of them struggling with sunscreen (charles dating he doesn't need it and lando just not liking it) and having fun by thr pool. Oh, and maybe george and Max take a snooze while lando and charles run their infinite energy off.

hi! i´m good, thank you. just got back from my vacation so i´m in a sunny mood and this fits it!

Max is knocked out on a sunlounger on his belly. He´s mostly out of the sun but Daniel´s still glad he managed to put a fresh coat of sunscreen on before Max passed out. His thumb is sucked firmly into his mouth and despite Daniel having tried some redirection Leo made his way down to the pool area too, and is squished under Max´s arm.

Charles and Lando are still chasing each other in the water, occasionally getting out to run around the side and getting yelled at by Carlos and Lewis get back in or stop running.

Oscar had been part of the game too until growing tired of it, fitting himself down close next to Daniel who threw a towel over his shoulders and gave him a banana to snack on while Daniel fussed over Max.

“You tired too?” Daniel asks, turning towards Oscar wrapping an arm around his shoulders and using his other hand to brush the wet hair off of his forehead. “You need a haircut.” He adds.

Oscar leans into the touch, swallowing his last bite of banana. “Only a little.” The boy answers, ignoring Daniel’s haircut remark.

“You can have a lie down if you want to, out here or inside. Lewis is putting George down in the bedroom too cause he needs it quiet.”

Oscar shrugs a little, eyes finding Daniel’s. “Wanna stay here.”

“Okay buddy,” Daniel says, not pushing it, Oscar’s usually good with knowing when he needs a nap, and he’ll probably go down anyway once the other boys are too.

“Can you come sit here?” Daniel asks, patting the space in between his legs. “If you’re staying in the sun we’re doing a new layer, okay?”

Oscar makes a face but obeys anyway, moving over and letting Daniel pat him dry with the towel around his shoulders before the lotions being rubbed in.

It seems to remind Carlos too.

“Lando, Charles!” Carlos calls from his spot on his own lounger. “Five more minutes then we’re getting out.”

There’s a chorus of disagreement that comes from the two boys left in the water just as Lewis walks back out. “That sounds promising. Need some help?”

Carlos groans, hand coming up to block the sun and look at Lewis. “In five minutes, yes.”

Lewis laughs. “Who do you need me to take?”

Carlos sits up, squinting. “Whichever one you can capture.”

It pulls a chuckle out of both Lewis and Daniel.

Five minutes later it proves to be the expected struggle, Lewis managing to pull Charles out of the pool and wrestle him into a towel to dry him off, Carlos running after Lando who managed to escape the initial capture.

“I don’t need it!” Charles whines batting at Lewis and the sunscreen bottle now that his hands are free again from being burritoed into the towel. “No, no no!”

Lewis seems to think for a moment before agreeing. “You’re right, you don’t.”

Charles faces is confused for a split second, suspicious as he lowers his arms.

“Because you nap inside, let’s go.”

A new string of disapproval ensues, loud whining quieted down by the threat of consequences if he wakes George up and the promise of a lie down together if he can show he can be a good boy.

Next to Daniel Lando’s thrown unceremoniously onto the lounger, bursting into a fit of giggles when Carlos digs his fingers into Lando’s sides. “Naughty, naughty boy!”

Max stirs, only a little, usually a deep sleeper but Daniel still whacks at Carlos’ leg. “You wake him, you put him back to sleep.”

“Sorry,” Carlos says sheepishly, stopping his attack and pressing a hand onto Lando’s mouth to stifle the noise. “Quiet, amor. Or Danny’s going to put us both in time out.”

Lando’s eyes go big for a second as he quiets down, only for a second before he starts whining at Carlos drying him off, pushing at the soaked trunks. “Off.”

Carlos stops his hands. “You can’t take them off you little nudist.” But Lando’s not convinced so Carlos wraps him up in the towel instead and goes to get him some boxers.

Lando slides off the lounger and fit himself closer to Daniel and Oscar, Oscar mostly relaxed into Daniel’s chest, blinking tired eyes.

“Hi.” Lando grins, and Daniel cannot help the smile.

“Hi, stinker.” He hums, brushing a hand through the curls.

“Oscar’s tired.” Lando says, and Daniel nods, pressing a kiss to the top of Oscar’s head before turning back to Lando. “So are you.”

“Am not.” Lando protests, but his eyes flutter close when Daniel’s thumb presses gently in between his eyebrows.

“See?”

Lando whines, turns his face away with a pout as Carlos returns with some dry boxers and a cuddle blanket for Lando and Oscar’s giraffe. The latter gets dropped into Daniel’s lap and Oscar snatches it up, cuddles it close before fitting himself more comfortably into Daniel’s chest, eyes closing.

“Thank you.” Daniel mouths, fitting himself a bit more comfortably against the lounger to support himself and Oscar.

Lando’s already dressed himself when Carlos reveals the sunscreen, the younger almost bolting again when Carlos snatches him close to apply a new layer.

Lando protests at first, relaxes only when Carlos starts massaging it into his shoulder, is out cold when he finishes, face streaky and white from where Carlos didn’t finish properly rubbing it in and not willing to risk Lando waking up again.

Lando’s floppy as Carlos brings him into his chest closing his own eyes.

“Pool days, huh?”

[frownyalfred]

*busts down your doors* HEY! Long ask for ya

okay so I was rereading your fic where EMS showed up because Dick couldn’t flip on the trampoline (rip) and it got me thinking about routine trauma.

So here’s the thing: I am not EMS. I know three people who are EMS, but my extent of EMS experience comes from one (1) ride along and lurking on EMS subreddits. Those guys are a hoot. Great memes. Anyways.

A comment stuck out to me: “You haven’t truly lived the job until you’re eating a gas station burrito next to a dead body”. I’ve seen a bunch like that. Nonchalance and dark humor because well, that’s their job. Gore is the norm. Sure, depending on the area, your usual calls might just be lift assists, but other areas are neck deep in gang violence and violent crime.

A pretty common post on that subreddit is also, sadly, “I just got a call that’s never bothered me before but all of a sudden I’m broken” or “I’ve never had a problem running this type of call before but all of a sudden it just hit me.” Delayed trauma is a bitch. Someone pointed out that if a civilian saw a fatal car accident with multiple corpses, they’d be in therapy and given support and it’d be a huge deal. With EMS, they’re just expected to deal with it. (EMS mental health is getting better- there are helplines and resources and first responder focused therapies- but it’s still a developing field)

ANYWAYS, now that I’ve given you a crash course on the EMS mental health crisis (someone should really write a feature on EMS in Gotham those fuckers would be crazy and I love them already), my point is, how would this apply to the bats? Seeing bodies is treated as very much the norm to them, but do you think it ever just… catches up? The impact of seeing corpses day after day? Do you think they have to fake being fine and tough during those times because well, “everybody else in the family is fine with it, I’m not going to be a liability/burden/weak/etc”

Do you think Bruce, the goddamn batman, who shouldn’t be ruffled by anything, ever just feels something crack inside when he looks at a little boy who could have grown up healthy and strong like his Jason, had (Bruce) someone been there for him? and then he can’t work cases with kids for a week?

This is such an excellent ask, thank you so much for gracing my inbox with it!

It's a very good question. I'm also on a lot of those subreddits (needed to do some research for that fic) and the discussion in those forums and on TikTok is like you described, a kind of practiced desensitization to all gore and suffering in order to survive in their job.

What I've seen from those discussions (and my EMT friend) is an almost sub-conscious trend where they allow themselves the "thing" that breaks them, and they push a lot of that trauma and emotion onto that thing. Like an EMT saying they don't do kids, or they don't do gunshots to the eye, etc. And they'll sob like a baby on those calls, while remaining stone-faced and level-headed through the triple homicide.

I'm just theorizing here, but I imagine the Batfamily uses similar coping skills -- pushing all that trauma and suffering into a box which cracks only under limited, defined circumstances. And they break or snap only under those conditions, because, subconsciously, they allowed themselves to.

So yes, Bruce might be 99% fine with most of the bodies he sees, but there might be a little boy who has a detail (like Jason's dark hair) that just slams into him out of nowhere.

PTSD and trauma literally change the structure of the brain. Individuals react differently to trauma after that, but there does appear to be a "desensitizing" effect with repeated trauma, as the body tries to compensate.

I agree that the Gotham EMTs must be some crazy motherfuckers. They probably deal with 6x the normal shit EMTs deal with in other cities. They probably take on a lot more trauma and burn out quicker than other EMTs, too.

Anyone else have thoughts on this? I admit I don't cover PTSD explicitly in a lot of my fics.