#my gremlin cave is my bed

[yeehawgeek]

i am going to disappear into my gremlin cave to draw

[skitskatdacat63]

@ all my irl friends atm, so sorry, can't hang out, I'm too tired of participating in normal society

[smolpout]

time 2 break out the cute autumn fits !! im soo happy 

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ ♡ 🍂

[luxthestrange]

RoR Incorrect quotes#163 LETS PORTY

After You were told you couldn't enter the tournament... that's why they put you in a cage to stop you...only now your grounded in your room-

Y/n*Knocking on the door of their room*Can I come out, please?

Buddha: No, Go back to bed

Y/n:...PLEEEEEEEEEASE LET ME OUT

Adam*Is caving in and holding their chest*Oh pleeeeease...let them out

Y/n*Pouts and thinks*...I want a drink of water!

Lu bu: You just had one!

Y/n:...I have to go to the bathroom!

Jack*Chuckles at your other plot*You went already!

Y/n:...PLEASE LET ME OUT*sticking fingers through the gap of the door*

Nikola*Is starting to cave in more*...Aw!~Look at those little fingers~

Kojiro: Aw our lil gremlin reaching out for physical contact?

Leonidas*Came to check on them and watched the whole interaction, Noticing you four about to cave into you*Come on, Gentlemen Hang tough~HOLD ON HERE

Y/n*Sniffles and whimpers*DONT YOU LOVE ME ANYMORE?!

Leonidas*Felt his heart explodes with guilt*...

Leonidas*Looking at you four*WHAT ARE YOU MADE OF STONE OR SOMETHING!?-Watch out my dear! We're coming in!*Opens the door*

Y/n*Gleams and runs out the door with fists up in air*LETS PARTY DUDE!

part 2 of:

[mushroomates]

the fellowship and housekeeping/home decor:

frodo: not his work but still a cozy place. well decorated and tasteful, if not a bit maximalist. bilbo did almost all of the leg work for bagend to look as great as it does and frodo barely keeps up with chores. sunday is laundry day and he washes dishes half well but that’s about it.

sam: what a pleasant place to be. always has a cup of tea ready and slippers by the door. well maintained household, has a self-prescribed chore chart and weekly deep cleaning tasks. always has the guest bedroom made up and loves changing sheets.

pippin: hell hole. adhd clutter. it’s a miracle he functions half as well as he does. hired help comes every other day but you wouldn’t know it by the way things are. has four separate mold colonies in various spots of his bedroom. somehow lost his bedframe and sleeps with his mattress on the floor.

merry: well thought out design to minimize chores. you don’t need to sweep the floors if the whole house is carpeted. doesn’t need to change his bedding if he sleeps on top of the sheets, avoids dusting top shelves by having low to ground storage, etc. tried throwing out all his silverware to avoid dishes. sam regifted him the same set he threw out for his birthday. weird house but very functional.

gandalf: he has no house to keep or decorate. he does, however, keep and decorate others houses. he is my wildest dream and worst nightmare, will not help with dishes but takes to dusting the stairs for whatever reason. no, it is not something anyone asked him to do nor was it needed. leaves little presents around the house for you to find. i did not want a thimble full of sand, but thank you anyways.

aragorn: house husband. will not let his wife do dishes, sweep, take out the trash, or any chores if he can help it. acts of service are this man’s MO and he loves taking care of his wife and even if it’s by wrestling a dirty plate out of her hands. (arwen provides aragorn with a to-do list as well as explicit instructions on how to do them. she also writes the grocery list). arwen also decorated the house and it’s very classy yet cozy. tasteful grandma vibes.

boromir: hand carved mahogany furniture. beautiful cross stitch of his family, small wooden statues and trinkets. very lovely and hand crafted home that he takes care of to the best of his ability. it’s a bit stuffy and smells like pine, but is generally well maintained. his workshop, though, is spotless.

legolas: there’s a small tree growing out of his toilet and plant clippings in the sink. the bath is filled with dirt and rocks and there’s a small wild garden filling out his bathroom. it’s like a self maintained ecosystem and is almost impressive. dishes are everywhere and clothes artfully draped across the floor and every surface.

gimli: don’t ask to see his rock collection. it takes up the whole living room and is alphabetized. it is the focal point and he will stand in front of the shelves until you mention it. will give you a guided tour of his rocks. maintains it actively as well as the rest of his household. very conscious of dust and dirt, sweeps regularly. he needs to.

gollum: burn it. cave creature gremlin who fears the sun does not keep a pleasant abode. my hackles are raised and my feet slimed; this place is unknown grease and fish bones incarnate. i do not enter this place willingly and leave a changed soul. dank, damp and distasteful. there’s a pile of something in the corner that he either sleeps in or hides fish guts for later in. maybe both.

[onenicebugperday]

@vaor-29​ submitted: a freshly peeled angel for you!!! my chilean rose recently celebrated her first birthday with a molt, and i thought i’d share!

i love how obnoxiously pink she gets after every shed, the camera and lighting REALLY dont do her justice here

her name is Bonnie cause its gender neutral and i TECHNICALLY dont know if shes male or female yet (calling her a ‘she’ to manifest it into the universe so we can spend that wonderful 25+ years together) AND because she looks like a dust bunny :>

some molt highlights include:

THE SCENE OF THE CRIME, featuring the exuvia, nice cozy silk bed, and two (02!!) legs from the shy naked beast if you look reeeally close at the burrow (+bonus of the terrarium i lovingly set up and she absolutely obliterated. i would die for her)

comparison of her first and last molts so far! shes grown so much!!! i gave away some of the middle molts but im saving the rest to put in resin

timeskip to the little gremlin peeking out of her cave, featuring her LITTLE BLACK SOCK PAWS!!!

we’re a bit late for christmas by now, so happy holidays and new year to you! may your 2024 be overflowing with buggie friends!

Do you think Bonnie knows that I love them? Very beautiful and perfect and fuzzy. Extremely impressed with their molting skills as well. I hope they are indeed female so you get to spend a few delightful decades together! And happy new year :)

[guppygiggles]

Hooooboy, okay. /////// I had a really bad day yesterday, so I wrote this as stress relief.

This is, um. Very vulnerable and emotionally intimate. @////////@ A-heh. It also contains some of my favorite descriptive imagery that I've ever written, so I'm going to to share it anyway, but,,,,, I'm,,,,,,, yeah, don't look at me. ////////// Contains: ~1.2k words, Ler!Avery, very underarm-focused tickling, teasing I can't even believe I managed to write out, lots of vulnerability, and GAY. Seriously, this is so sappy and gay, if you do not like sappy gayness do not read this okthanksbyeI'mgonnahideforevernow ////////////

“Alright, Casper. Lay down, and lift ‘em up.”

I flushed hotly, squirming in place as we stood in my bedroom. It was evening, and we had already changed into our pajamas. Avery looked wonderful in a tank top; tall and powerful, his bare arms pale and smooth as marble. Lacking two nights worth of sleep, I looked like a frazzled raccoon by comparison, my own oversized tank and gym shorts only adding to my gremlinized appearance.

Ravaged by an unrelenting bout of insomnia, I was exhausted, and I looked like it. But, as I seemed to learn again and again, with Avery... I was never too tired to be sheepish.

“Ah-! Avery, please, I…”

He chuckled knowingly, nudging me toward the bed. 

“I know, I know. It flusters you terribly, but you always sleep so well afterwards. The last thing you need is a third sleepless night, my dear; I won't allow that to happen, if I can help it. I know it's tough, but it will help you relax, I promise. Go ahead and get comfortable, now… Let me take care of you.”

I offered an embarrassed glance before turning toward the bed, my knees wobbling as I laid down on the quilt. He dimmed the lights, then floated over beside me and made himself comfortable, the brawny elemental's feet nearly hanging off the bed. For someone so big, he always moved with effortless grace.

“Alright, now… Arms… Uuuuuuup up up~” He ordered playfully, taking my wrists in his big, chilly hands and gently guiding them over my head. I tried to relax, the cool air wafting over my now open, vulnerable armpits. My hands balled into fists. 

“You know what I'm going to do next~ I know how much this makes you laugh, but just try to stay still for me, okay?”

I swallowed hard. Easy for him to say! I took a deep breath, but caved to more whining on the exhale. 

“Avery… Please, not the pits…” I was already glowing, my lips warbling into a twitchy smile before he had even laid a finger on me. A surge of giddiness welled in my chest, threatening to burst from my lips at any moment. 

Simpering deviously, he pushed right into my anticipation. 

“Hehe, ohhh, why not~? Does somebody have tickly pits, Casper~?”

And there went my resolve.

“Ah-! D-dammit… You already k-know-EEEEEHEHEHE?!” 

Without another word, he leaned down and pressed a soft, cool kiss into the middle of my right armpit.

I gasped.

Kisses?! 

He'd tickled plenty, but Avery had never kissed me before… Not there. I’d never known the elemental to be squeamish (not as if I weren’t hygienically meticulous...), but I would’ve never foreseen such a gesture – apparently, I didn’t know what he was going to do! My shocked body struggled to react, emitting a combination giggle-squeal as my back arched and ears burned with exploited sensitivity. His lips were a hunter’s arrow clad in cold silk, penetrating right to my core. My arms trembled as I struggled to keep them raised; even his breath tickled. 

Though my face was a billboard of fluster, Avery wasn’t content with my suffering. He continued to tease, smirking down at me as he thumbed through the pages of my expression; panicked delight, terrified desire, excited dread. Like most who had ever willingly submitted to a tickling, I was the embodiment of a war between philia and instinct, waged on a battleground of trust. Just by looking at him, I knew that he saw everything behind my eyes… and loved it.

“Keep ‘em up… The left one needs kisses, too~” 

“NohoHOHOHOOO!” 

“Mhmmm~ Right here…”

Holding my left arm up, he planted three swift kisses right into the hollow. I screeched and twisted as he giggled, his lips vibrating against my skin as he held onto my elbow, easily preventing me from lowering my arm. 

I was still laughing and squirming as he stopped to speak again. 

“Ohhhh, somebody really likes this, don’t they~? Tickle, tickle, tickle, Casper likes tickly kisses in his pits~ Hehehe~ Keep those arms up, or I'm gonna getchagetchagetcha~”

“AHaHahaAvery p-plehehehease~!” 

What had I done to deserve such savagery?! He was positively merciless!

“Are you going to be a good boy and sleep through the night, for once?” He leaned down again, brushing his satin lips back and forth across my left underarm, before planting another deep kiss into the center. I bubbled up with gleefully hysterical giggles, making him chuckle again. 

“YEHEHEHEhehes! PLEEHEhehease, no mohohore k-kihihisses~!” My heart palpitated fiercely. I was certain I couldn’t blush any deeper, but my face still managed to betray a wisp of regret as he relented. Like a center-fielder with an unbroken streak, Avery caught this, too.

“Alright, alright. I won't give you any more kisses… But that doesn't mean you're safe!” With that, he scribbled his plush fingertips into my pits, making me clamp my arms down as I shrieked and howled, curling into a ball as I did. 

“Aaa-gitchygitchygitchy~! Who's my ticklish, handsome boy?” 

“EEEEEEEEHEHE-AAAHAHA~!” My eyes welled with tears as he continued to wiggle his trapped fingertips under my arms, the limited range of motion doing nothing to lessen the sensation. How did it tickle so badly? I could hardly think…! My heart raced as the sensation ran all over me, making me tremble as my vibrant blush spread down my neck and chest. Enduring a tickle from Avery wasn’t a rarity by any means, but I couldn’t remember the last time he’d made me laugh so hard; he really did intend to exhaust me!

“We're going sleep alllll the way until morning, right? Or does the tickle monster need to wear you out a bit more~?” 

“I’LL SLEEEEHEHEHEHEEP!” “Wonderful! Now, I don’t think I received an answer to my first question. Let me ask it again…” “NOOOOHOHOOOO!” “Who is it, Casper~? Who’s my pretty, sensitive, ticklish boy~?”

His gentle fingers were so fiendishly persistent as they wriggled into my pits, I could scarcely get the word out. “M-MEEEEHEHEHEHEE!” “There we go! Good boy~!” 

I couldn’t believe it; even after such an admission, he continued to tickle me!

As my laughter began to border on screaming, he finally gave my armpits a break, switching instead to my ribs, belly, hips, feet; anywhere he could reach. My laugh was too big for me to keep my eyes open, but I could feel that he’d conjured extra hands to assist him… The sheer cruelty of it all! I quickly slipped into silent hysteria, which afforded me an opportunity to listen to Avery’s melodic, affectionate chuckle as he tickled me. Oh, how wonderful… how terrible, how unbearably tender. Enough love to fill every ocean radiated from that laugh, and I wanted to swim in it until the end of time.

Once he was satisfied that he’d soundly melted me into a flushed, ticklish puddle, Avery finally stopped. He leaned down to give me one last kiss, this time on my forehead, as he tucked my hair out of my face.

“I love you, dewdrop. I'll be right here, okay? If you wake up scared, just wake me up, and I'll help you get back to sleep. With tickles, or without.” He softly caressed my cheek, then winked, causing the light in the room to flick out. Pulling me into his arms, he nuzzled into my neck as a deep, exhausted sigh rolled from my chest, my body buzzing with the characteristic tingle of a thorough tickling. His plan was working… I could already feel the tug of sleep on my consciousness, pulling my thoughts into a wooly haze. My eyes slipped closed as I snuggled my back against his pillowy, cool body.

Just as he anticipated, I slept straight through until dawn. 

[neutron-stars-collision]

Waiting for the Night

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Epilogue - Always You

Chapter 20; Masterlist Summary: One December evening, Vengeance climbs into your apartment through the window. That's regular occurrence by now. What isn't regular, is the conversation you share. Warnings: 18+ (sorry, the gremlin in my brain insisted I describe some of that), swearing. Author's Notes: So, this is the official farewell. This epilogue turned out to be kind of an 'evening in the life of', but I think I needed that. Even if only just to say goodbye to those two. It's 6k of headcanons and fluff, so I hope you enjoy 💕 Once again, thanks for sticking around ✨ A playlist will follow bc of course I have that too. Feel free to let me know what you think? Tag list: @thecraziestcrayon, @kookiewastolen, @imimsy, @tuskens-mando, @sugarcoated-lame, @blue-aconite, @hypnoash, @rabbitdictionary, @nicklet94, @mcrmarvelloki, @shimmeringgrim, @ttae-yong, @freyadruid, @siriuslydestiny, @ms-dont-care, @raphaelaisabella, @itsmytimetoodream, @brightjimini, @castellandiangelo, @grunge-n-roses5

(gif credit: @1038276637)

No amount of thinking and consideration could have ever prepared you for the reality of being Bruce Wayne’s partner. Or girlfriend, a term you had sometimes relished teasing him with. If only to get that same deadpan look, complemented by a pink blush on his cheeks and one sentence reply.

Always the same: “You’re much more than that to me”. Every time the answer made you blush too, overwhelmed with love and hopefulness like never before. Because, as it quickly turned out, Bruce treated this seriously, daily putting in work to make sure whatever you had would survive.

And it did, at least until the rain showers had been replaced by snowfall, and the white coat covering most of Gotham almost made up for the plummeting temperatures. Long enough for you to get used to the idea that a solo night at your place did not mean loneliness. It did not even mean that you would be alone for that much longer, for, as it happened, Bruce’s patrol now sometimes led to your apartment instead of the Terminus. It was a substitute for the nights when you opted to stay at your place instead of perusing the Tower. All the heads-up he would give would be a quick text sent between the hours when you were likely still awake. But it was all you needed, instantly perking up at the idea.

That night was like that, as you were informed by a message on the burner phone: “I’ll come by after 2”. Easy fate to achieve - waiting for Bruce until 2 am. Although, the slow passage of time made you groan for the umpteenth time as you found it still to be only 1 am. An hour. A whole bloody hour. Your head dropped onto the table with a dull thud. The waiting for him was the worst part of it all, perhaps only next to the constant anxiety that filled your veins whenever Bruce was playing the part of Batman. Mostly because you never knew whether waiting up on him in the cave would be to get that desired kiss and help him with the amour or whether it would entail cleaning the wounds and bandaging the cuts. You already had a fair share of both. And there was no point guessing which you preferred.

Your favourite nights, by a large margin, were those when Bruce stayed home. Or at least stayed long enough to go to bed with you. Those were the nights of discoveries and enlightenment, leaving you breathless and wanting more. Always wanting more. Luckily now, you did not have to deny yourself what you had become addicted to. And the list was growing exponentially. Like the fact that after that first night when you had confessed your feelings for Bruce, the three words had only gained power. Enough so that when you whispered them at just the right time, with Bruce still buried deep inside you and inching towards his release - they were all the trigger he needed. All sense of control seemed to disappear as soon as you reminded him you loved him. And for that, the affection only grew.

You knew that was very much mutual.

The other discovery, which had led to many sleepless lonely nights, spent squirming under the covers, was that once Bruce had understood that he truly was the best you ever had, a new level of confidence was unlocked. Some might even call it smugness. But you could not possibly mind a bit of cockiness when it got you a man who would tease you with his fingers and mouth till you were a whimpering mess. And then, only then, he would lean in close, let his mouth brush your heated cheek and the shell of your ear, and whisper: “Come for me”. A request. A command even. You had no choice but to obey. Not that you didn’t want to. By now, the exact way he had spoken had become a go-to soundtrack to all your daydreams. A weak substitute for when you were apart.

It was still better than nothing.

Glancing at the watch to check the time, you were easily brought back from the pleasant recollections. It was almost 2 am. Not long now. You did not need a mirror to confirm your mouth stretched into a dumb smile. The reaction was involuntary at this point, transforming you into that type of lovesick individual you always scoffed at. The irony was infuriating. Feeling the tell-tale shiver of anticipation, you made one final lap of the flat. Smoothing out the bedsheets (even though neither of you cared about it), taking out the short-rimmed tumbler (in case he did want that whiskey you offered before Halloween) and dragging a hand through your hair to detangle any knots (even though he had seen you with bed-hair and mascara stains on your cheeks). Only then you could say you were ready.

And right on time, too, for before long, you heard the familiar light knock upon the window frame. A smile broke out on your face as you crossed the room to unlatch the window and stepped back. This part always made you laugh. You knew why Bruce deemed the window a better way of entering your apartment, but it was still a strange spectacle to witness. Using the grappling hook, he would lift himself to the level of your building and gracefully slip in. The only downside? The melting snow created puddles on your floor. This time you were prepared, a sweeping mop in hand.

The first glimpse you caught was a smile under the cowl. A look so strange for Mr Vengeance himself, yet something you had grown accustomed to. You returned the expression with ease, watching as he jumped in feet first through the window frame and landed on your floor with a quiet groan. That, too, was a sign – this night had been rough. Before you could process the realization, Bruce strengthened up and took off the cowl. As always, that first shared glance made you shiver. The smudged black makeup was smeared around his eyes, hair messy and unkempt, begging you to arrange it. There was no reason to wait.

“Hello, you” you closed the remaining gap and placed your hand on his shoulder.

The material felt cold and made you shiver as you rose on your toes to level with him. Bruce’s eyes traced your every move as he wound his arm around your waist, keeping you close and secure.

“Hey,” the whisper you got in return was the last thing you let him say before you crashed your mouth into his with a satisfied hum.

The coldness of his lips did nothing to stifle the spark of fire slowly building in your veins. As always. Carefully you let your tongue trace his bottom lip, prodding at the seam till Bruce opened his mouth, inviting you in. The familiarity of the feeling was enough to let you drop the remaining weight from your shoulders and sink into him, tasting and consuming all you could. All that he was willing to give you.

Bruce responded in kind to the tempo you had set, caressing your tongue with his and lightly nipping at your bottom lip. He felt like home. Even with the melting snow dripping onto your clothes and the hard edges of the armour digging between your ribs. The need to continue was stronger than anything else. Until neither of you could get deep enough breaths to continue.

You drew back with a quiet whine, frustration adding spikes to the warmth in your chest. The blue of Bruce’s eyes staring back at you smoothed the feeling, instantly making you notice the glimmer in his gaze. The love that was no longer a secret between you. It was impossible to escape the blush blooming on your cheeks and the pick-up in your heart rate. Ignoring the urge to hide from his perceptive stare, you returned to the task at hand.

One assessing look was enough as you raised your hand to cup his cheek and then up to comb through the hair falling into his eyes. You carefully brushed it away from his forehead, barely managing not to drown in the grateful look you got awarded. The only way of avoiding the shame of losing your mind and doing something utterly stupid like falling to your knees before Bruce, you grabbed the mop and pushed it onto his chest with a simple instruction:

“Now mop the floor” you eyed the growing puddle at your feet with a critical eye, adding, “You’ve made a mess” without waiting for a reply, you turned away towards the kitchen.

Just in time to hear the answer.

“Yes, ma’am” you did not need to see him to know he was smiling.

Approaching the counter, you opened the cupboard and eyed the contents. It was too late for a meal, but when Bruce visited, you would always share a drink before retiring to your bedroom. It was only a question of choice. What suited him better on this particular December night?

“What’s your poison tonight?” you asked and turned to face Bruce, finding him leaning the mop on the wall and the floors shiny and swept (naturally), “Coffee? Tea? Whiskey?” the first two had been staples on the menu, the last one was an inside joke.

An option you always gave him for the sake of it. And also, because you were yet to see Bruce Wayne relax with an alcoholic drink in his hand. Early on, he had told you he did not indulge in that too often, seldom, in fact, because alcohol did not exactly help the difficult thoughts springing in his mind at every possible chance. You knew the feeling too well, so you never pushed. But maybe-

“You know what?” Bruce’s question interjected your internal monologue as he eyed the tumbler you had taken out earlier, “Maybe it’s time. At last,” raising his head to meet your searching gaze, Bruce grinned.

Even now, when smiles no longer were rare, you still treasured each one. Mostly because they lit up Bruce’s beautiful face like nothing else, throwing everything into perspective. It was a point of personal pride you made him smile like that.

Without waiting for Bruce to change his mind, you took the bottle off the shelf and grabbed a second glass to fill. Two ice cubs per drink clinked in the tumblers as you poured the rich brown liquid and turned to hand it to him.

“Cheers,” raising yours to toast, you sent him another pleased smile.

You did not need to discuss the arrangement, wordlessly taking a sip from the glass and placing it back on the counter to free your hands for the next step in the routine. Bruce mirrored your moves, patiently waiting for you to start taking off the armour pieces. By now, the process was almost second nature. You did not need his directions, easily following the straps and buckles to undo them. Each plating would end up on one of your chairs, a dark heap covered with the cloak. Only once Bruce was left with the black thermals, you drifted to the sofa and fell against each other on the cushions. Multiple points of contact at every spot. Calves, knees, thighs, hips, and shoulders. At the least.

At first, you did not talk, quietly soaking in the calm. It quickly became evident that Bruce valued his peace, and each nightly escapade was enough to drain his battery. Both physically and mentally. That is why when he returned home or to your place the priority was letting him rest. Usually, you would put the tv on as background noise, but tonight as soon as you turned your head to look at Bruce, the remote control was frozen in your hand.

Suddenly it struck you. The strangeness of the moment in its entirety. It was nothing you could have foreseen, not in a million years. And yet, it made perfect sense.

You must have stared for too long because the next thing you registered was Bruce looking back at you with an incredulous glim in his eyes. He arched an eyebrow, his hand landing on your knee to gently stroke the skin beneath your pyjama pants. A question followed:

“What’s that look for?” the curiosity in his tone made you smile, barely resisting the urge to hide your face in the crook of his neck to avoid being stared at.

Especially by someone who could see through each wall you ever tried to raise. By now, you never even tried anymore, aware that it was pointless. Bruce (somehow) wanted all of you, so that is what he got. You could only hope he would never change his mind.

“It’s a lot to take in,” shrugging with one shoulder, the one not tucked against his side, you chose the safest answer.

All the while knowing Bruce would not let that be the end of that conversation. You only had to wait approximately 10 seconds for the follow-up question.

“What is?” you had to admit he was good at this.

Interrogation techniques that somehow fit right in the dynamic between you. And made it impossible for you to hide from him. While the thought had been terrifying once, it was almost easy to get used to. Almost being the keyword there.

“Oh, you know” feigning nonchalance, you chose to pace your answer, taking your time with the reveal, while watching him closely, “Having Vengeance in my living room” was the most obvious of hang-ups, something you did not think you could get accustomed to. Each time you saw tv coverage of Batman or had your work colleagues develop a piece on the vigilante, the thrill of realization felt like something new, something you had never experienced before. Now, you let your gaze stray to the half-empty tumbler in his hand, adding another layer to the confession, “Serving whiskey to Bruce Wayne�� lifting your eyes to catch the growing smile on his face, you allowed the fondness seep into your tone. The feeling was almost drowning out the disbelief that still tinted your vowels. You never expected to get rid of that either, “Having that same Bruce Wayne as my boyfriend…” it was strange to let the term roll off your tongue this freely, but the strangeness could not contend with the happiness you could see in his eyes. It was enough to make you grin, the conclusion to the speech coming up effortlessly, “Never once saw that coming” no lies were to be found there, “I need to stare a little longer to make sure you won’t disappear on me now” the excuse was flimsy, but it had the intended effect.

Bruce smiled and pulled you closer again, your body falling against his chest like always. The warmth of the embrace kept the chill from settling in your bones. His arms tightened around your waist as he rested his chin on your head and let out a content sigh.

“I won’t” there was no need to question him, all sense of doubt disappearing like melting snow when he added, “I like you too much,”

It was both what he said and how he said it. Like it was no big deal. Like the admission did not cost him anything. Like the character evolution you had witnessed in Bruce was something he was proud of. Something he took joy in if only because it mattered to you.

That was a little difficult to get used to.

So much so that instead of facing the affectionate admissions head-on, you chose to go for a joke, using it as a protective veil:

“Damn, never imagined Bruce Wayne would be such a softie” you lightly swatted him across the chest, not expecting the delighted giggle that would erupt from your throat when he caught your hand in his and squeezed it.

“I’m not” it took one look at Bruce, registering the slight pout and the petulance in his eyes, to make you abandon the pretence.

You dove in for a kiss, pressing your mouth against his in a quick, firm peck balancing just on the right sight of not being too greedy. Or distracting for the conversation you were still hoping to have with Bruce.

“Sure, babe” you placed another kiss on the apple of his cheek, slightly tinted pink, and changed the topic, “So, how’s Gotham? Any hot goss I should know about?” you bated your eyelashes as a complimentary show of begging.

Not that Bruce would otherwise deny you the answers. He never did that, which quickly made you the second most informed individual in the city. After the Batman, of course.

Bruce shifted slightly - a sign you had come to associate with the conversation taking a more serious turn. Placing a comforting hand on his knee, you waited as he gathered his thoughts and replied:

“There’s some talk of the Penguin putting most of his resources into bringing back the drops business” you frowned, already knowing what a mess would result from such a move. Although, unfortunately, it sounded plausible, “I’ve got addresses to scout that might be their new labs” Bruce glanced at you, awaiting a comment.

And potentially wordlessly asking whether you wanted to accompany him during the recon. It was something you did together, from time to time. An unusual way of spending time and a first-hand opportunity to gather information for work. And if the pleasant side-effect were the heated kisses shared in the shadowed alleys, then it was nobody’s business but yours.

You already knew it was a yes if he asked.

“That’s probably something you should share with Gordon” instead of voicing that, you chose to offer him reasoning.

The close cooperation between them was still a surprising development. But it was getting stronger and sometimes made you wonder whether the GCPD lieutenant would not be the very next person to learn Vengeance’s identity. So far, Bruce denied it, but you knew better than to take his word for granted. After all, decisions changed.

“And I will. But once I’m sure there’s truth in what I’ve been told,” Bruce shrugged, a brief hint of petulance in his tone making you grin.

Bruce Wayne also did not seem to change. Not completely.

You could never let a chance like that pass you by. Shifting yet again to sit up on your knees and face him, you dropped your voice a notch, giving it an appropriately seductive timbre:

“Good boy” before Bruce could react, you patted his head and dragged your fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands.

That was another key phrase of your relationship. The magical two words, if used correctly, gave you complete control over Bruce. As it turned out, the Wayne heir was incredibly susceptible to praise. You could never have too much fun with that knowledge.

You watched with growing satisfaction at how he shuddered, the two words already having an impact. Bruce blushed, and his eyes darkened almost imperceptibly. To anyone else, the reactions would have been difficult to discern from the poker face he had slipped back on. But it was much harder to fool you.

Bruce knew as much. He shrugged off your hand with unnecessary care and turned to glare at you. The twitching corner of his mouth was an easy giveaway.

“Careful there,” the warning in his voice was another trick taken straight from the toolbox.

You already knew what this was. The rules of the game were familiar by now. You did not have to fake the heat blooming in your face at the tone Bruce had implemented. All you had to do was give him your brightest smile and amp the innocent flicker in your eyes to fit the intent. That was always fun.

“Or what?” enjoying the way his eyes followed your every move, you placed your hand on his chest, pressing it flat against the fabric to feel the heartbeat, “You’re going to jump me?” as the question left your lips, your fingers begun tracing their path up the length of his thigh.

More often than not, that was how those precious nights between you began. With a ridiculous conversation and increasingly risky touch, getting rid of the remaining inhibitions. Not that there were many left.

You could see Bruce ponder the assumption, using the ball you had placed in his court. The decision was strictly up to him. You liked to remind him from time to time that you both could share the control equally. And that whatever he chose did not change anything for you. You were there for the long run.

“I’d love to” he reached out to brush the stray hair from your forehead, eyes showing hints of remorse that spoiled the answer before he gave it, “Not tonight though, sorry” it was impossible to miss the subtle wince on his face as Bruce shifted on the sofa.

That told you all you needed to know. Your hand stopped all its wandering, resting atop his thigh and tracing lazy circles over the black fabric. You knew that before you both went to bed, you would need to take out the ointments bought specifically for evenings like that and ask Bruce to take off his shirt. And it was alright. Fine, even. Because seeing Bruce Wayne shirtless was a perk of every kind of evening. Full stop.

Hoping the convey the feelings through the softness of your gaze, you allowed yourself one last joke. One final tease to satisfy the need and drag that shy smile out of its confines.

“You’ll pay for your crimes soon enough” Bruce let out a breathless laugh, and you felt like the luckiest being on the planet.

Yeah, you never saw this coming.

***

It was well past 4 am when you finally turned off the ceiling lights in your bedroom and joined Bruce on the bed. Sometimes that part, the brief conversations whispered with your heads resting against the headboard, felt almost like the domestic future you never expected to have. Like the word, which began with an m and ended with an e. You were still too scared to say it out loud or even in the quiet of your mind.

Ignoring the thought now, you quietly settled against the pillows and turned to stare at Bruce. He looked as if he belonged there, nestled underneath your woollen quilt with his damp, dark hair falling in strands over his forehead. Your heart throbbed in your chest. It was almost too good to be true. Fearing another wave of feelings you could not control, you broke the silence with whatever sentence you could think of:

“You know there’s this gala Réal is hosting before Christmas…” admittedly, it was something you had wanted to bring up to Bruce.

It has been on your mind since the mayor’s announcement via press release weeks back. After the election and everything else that followed, she had taken decisive steps to fix the city. One of them was inviting the elites and the journalists to the charity gala this December. Although you were sceptical about the effects, the intents alone were admirable.

You knew Bruce had received an invite. But if that were not common knowledge, the myriad of emotions passing through his face at the reminder would have been the giveaway. You could easily discern discomfort, uncertainty, and fear among them. Without thinking about it, you took hold of his hand resting on the covers and squeezed it. That was a common way of assuring Bruce that you were there, of offering him comfort when he would not ask for it first. After what felt like hours of silence, Bruce let out a tortured sigh and replied:

“Yes, of course. It’s only every other day that Alfred reminds me I should show up” from that dejected tone alone, you could recognize that it was a touchy subject.

And that Bruce had already made up his mind about doing everything he could not to go. Unfortunately for him, with this case and with many others you were on Alfred’s side. You made a quick mental note to mention it to the butler the next time you saw him.

“Well, you should” as soon as you spoke, Bruce sent you a glare and let out another pained groan. His penchant for dramatics was something you never expected but was incredibly happy to discover, always making you laugh, “I know, I know, but… I mean, I’ll be there” once the bit of information was out, you winced. It was a stupid thing to add. While it was true, the fact was entirely unnecessary. For obvious reasons, “Obviously we can’t go together… which I don’t mind, by the way,” nervous laughter broke through the surface as you unconsciously moved away from Bruce and fixed your gaze on the swirling patterns of the duvet “I knew what I was getting myself into with you, so…”

And you did know. You never expected to ramble around Gotham’s public events holding onto Bruce’s arm. It was not even something you actively yearned for, finding the desired happiness and peace in those quiet private moments instead. It was another case of your mouth having a mind of its own and an incontrollable want to fill the gaps between reasonable sentences with bullshit. It was far from the first time that had happened.

Maybe that was why what Bruce said next did not surprise you but only made the pricks of conscience worse.

“I’m sorry” the apology was filled with enough sincerity to make your heart ache.

You knew that he meant it. In his eyes, something as silly as keeping your relationship secret was another way of letting you down. Of not being enough for you. It was another thing to nag him in the quiet of his mind when there were no distractions. You knew what that was like all too well. Before Bruce could drown in the spiral of his own making, you leaned in to cup his face and spoke:

“No, Bruce, I… I love you” the admission was an easy thing to say these days, falling from your lips like the tears you had once shed over it, “Nothing changes that. Plus, there’s an exciting potential in taking some time away from the other guests by perusing the bathroom” you wiggled your eyebrows comically, delighted to see him smile “It’s just a suggestion,”

It felt like a relief when Bruce grinned and gave you a forehead kiss.

“I’ll think about it. I promise” giving his hand another squeeze, you accepted the truce and made sure to meet his gaze. The tone Bruce used told you that was only just the beginning, “You’re not the only one who didn’t see this coming” slightly changing the grip on your hand, Bruce caressed your knuckles in broad, repetitive strokes.

The shyness in his eyes was familiar by now. Although, still, his openness could surprise you. Like just now. With an admission that he had no obligation to make yet seemed eager to anyway. You tightened the hold on his hand and asked:

“Yeah?” wincing at the wavering voice, you could hardly conceal the surprise in your gaze.

Because that was a line of conversation, you never expected him to follow. At least not tonight. But it did not make you any less curious, always happy to get another glimpse into the workings of Bruce’s mind and heart. Those were utterly precious. It was pointless to even think about getting rid of the gaping mouth and the dazed eyes.

Judging by Bruce’s smile, there was no need to try either.

“Yep,” he nodded and raised his arm in an invitation, soon followed by words, “Come here” you did not hesitate in scooting closer and letting Bruce pull you to rest with your back against his chest. You could feel him nosing along the tendons in your neck, voice slightly muffled yet still audible “You’re absolutely terrifying” you could picture his gleeful smile with your eyes closed.

The joy in his tone felt infectious. It was easy to say he meant it. That being called terrifying was one of the highest honours Bruce could bestow on you. You leant into the lingering kiss he pressed to the nape of your neck and breathed out the reply:

“That’s a new one, but I’ll take it” stringing together the words and ignoring the fire torched in your lower stomach from something as simple as his lips on your neck were too difficult a feat to achieve.

It became apparent as soon as you became aware of your breathless voice and heard Bruce’s low chuckle resonating through your body. It was a sound you came to like, very much. It meant he was finding you amusing and decidedly good enough. It was something to shove in the face of struggling self-confidence that could always try a little more.

“You’re terrifying because, with you, I can’t hide behind the cowl and pretend I don’t exist” the sincerity of the statement was enough to make your heart trip over itself in your chest.

Without thinking, you raised your clasped hands to your mouth and kissed his knuckles. A few days old scrapes scratched the skin of your lips. It felt real.

“Is that a good thing?” you had to ask, even if only to prolong the fragile moment.

Because no matter how much you enjoyed the loudest of nights and the blatant confessions, poignancy was something else entirely. Something you would always chase after if it stepped into your sights. Like just now.

“Yes, because you make me braver” Bruce did not hesitate, his grip around your waist tightening just a little bit as he continued, “I’m pretty sure you know this, but you’re the only person that gets to see me. The real Bruce Wayne as he’s supposed to be” you did know that which did not make the knowledge feel any less groundbreaking “It’s just that I know I’m not enough. For you-” it was once he started saying utter bullshit, that you had to interject.

That was not acceptable. Not on your watch. Gently peeling Bruce’s arms from your waist, you turned in his lap to straddle his hips and placed your hands on his shoulders. He did not expect that. You could tell as much from the hitch in his breathing and the widening eyes. Bruce still took it in his stride, steadying you with his arm around your shoulders, the other hand tracing invisible pathways along your thigh. You knew he was struck into silence, unable to do anything but wait on your next call. Something about the power you possessed over him was intoxicating if you did as much as stop and think about it.

Most days, you simply did not.

“You’re really dumb, but that’s okay” without hesitation, you cupped his cheek and carded your fingers through his unruly hair, smiling like an idiot. Because in the end, it was quite simple, you were astonished Bruce did not know it just yet. You waited for his blue eyes to meet yours and whispered, “You’re everything to me,”

It was an easy synonym to the familiar I love you, and to the less apparent I don’t want to imagine my life without you. It was the only way you could tell him the extent of his importance. The only way you could try to without dissolving into tears or doing something stupid like asking him to marry you. You did not think that would be quite the right time for it.

Bruce’s answering smile, softened by the persisting edges of disbelief, told you that you made the right call. He understood. As always. Unlike your very first kiss, you moved simultaneously, colliding somewhere in between with strangled gasps. Your tongues met in an electrizing touch, igniting the fire in your veins and making you fall against him with a whimper. Bruce swallowed the sound, his fingers buried into your hair as his tongue traced the sharper edges of your canines. As if he did not have the inside of your mouth memorized by now.

You could only step into the dance, letting him set the pace. His warmth overwhelmed your body as you kissed his lips with the hunger and thirst of a dying woman. Because that was the next best thing you could think of to show him you meant it. Because the pressure of his mouth against yours and the taste of his tongue sometimes were the only things that felt real. Real enough to make you believe hope could persist. That it had a place within your reality. With each kiss, each confession, and each day that passed with Bruce, hope slowly replaced the longing that used to fill your heart. You could only trust that one day it would be eradicated.

Your kiss stretched until it was nearly impossible to breathe. Then, and only then, you nipped at Bruce’s lower lip and softened the bite with the swipe of your tongue before parting. His eyes looked beautiful when nearly swallowed by the gaping black of his blown-out pupils. And it was all your doing. You always took pleasure in the seconds just after the kiss, the few ticks of the clock when Bruce had to forcibly shake himself awake from the spell you had put him under. You could see it in the slight shake of his head, clearing the daze in his eyes and the deep breath he took before even trying to speak.

You rested your forehead against his, the pounding heart slowing down. Until everything that was left was a pleasant hum of the passion coursing in your veins. There was no need to act on it, so you let yourself exist and bask in the warmth of Bruce’s body against yours. When he finally spoke, you were almost composed:

“See? Terrifying” happiness shone in his blue eyes as Bruce raised his hand to let his fingers trace the edges of your features.

It was impossible not to lean into his touch, greedily taking every ounce of tenderness Bruce would offer. He always took that additional second to brush the pad of his thumb over your lower lip, soothing the kiss-bruised skin. You could hardly stop the satisfied purr that rose in your throat.

Instead, you tried to focus on the sentiment. On how much it must have meant for Bruce to admit. Without needing to think about it too hard, you knew you understood the feeling. That the myriad of emotions swirling in your chest could be summarized with one response. One that Bruce would see through easily. One that would show him that you have this in common, too.

You leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek and whispered the reply:

“Quite right, too,” the unspoken meaning shone through the gaps between the vowels, highlighted by the slight waver of your voice.

When Bruce tipped your chin and met your gaze, you knew you made the right choice. Another ounce of hope replaced the longing. Another heavy sigh became unanchored and took flight within the safety of his eyes.

As the snow covered the city outside, you became aware of two things. 1) It was good to be seen if the gaze that pierced through your soul was kind. 2) Bruce Wayne could be many things, but above all that, he was yours. And that was enough.

[voltstone]

i hAVE FIGURED OUT HOW TO FIX MY BLOG.

anyway so longer written-form content's gonna be easier to read now. >:) so i will give the links to my stuff, both essays and the fics i've written in this post.

some of the stuff i wrote a while ago. others are pretty new, like a violet essay.

so enjoy if you want (the keep reading will have all the links).

[Fanfiction]

they adopt a cat named floof | Wednesday

wednesday, for her girlfriend, gets a cat. she finds a way to bypass the “no pet” policy in order to do so. :)

Wenclair

stagger | Wednesday

Enid is her one exception, so Wednesday tries. Again, and again, and again. She gets it right, asking Enid to…not a date. Eventually.

Wenclair

just a bear (or some other wild animal) | Wednesday

“I’ve hibernated with some grizzlies. I know the difference." the story of the time when wednesday slept in a bear cave for a week. she was seven and knew what felt just right.

Back Again | Fallout 4

In other words, Piper Wright walked out of Diamond City with the woman written as the “View from the Vault.” Though, well, the city folk were quick to suspect that there was something else going on between them… And they weren’t wrong. So when Piper walked back into Diamond City without the woman, there was something wrong. Especially the longer she waited on the Publick Occurrences rooftop. Alcohol in her breath. Less shouting and interrogating for interviews. It was all just…wrong.

F!SS x Piper Wright

Bottom Bunk | LWA

With another Samhain Festival celebrated and slept off, Atsuko Kagari finds her room empty of Sucy and Lotte. Yet, she feels the warmth of another girl in her bed. And so a conversation is to be had.

Diakko/Dianakko

toxin | LWA

[toxin] - an antigenic poison or venom of plant or animal origin, especially one produced by or derived from microorganisms and causing disease when present at low concentration in the body. A definition, which, Sucy knows well. It’s why she doesn’t have a heart, nor any sense for what compassion can bring. Although, one night changes things, and maybe—just maybe—Akko proves Sucy otherwise.

Suakko

Sphynx | LWA

Sucy didn’t care about an hour of transformative magic, nor that it was supposed to be “fun” and all about “finding your inner animal.” Well, companion animal, which really meant cats and dogs because…magic. Or something stupid.  And Sucy was left cold and huddled underneath a curtain because she was this ugly naked chicken gremlin? …okay, maybe she did care a little bit.

Suakko

Burning a Cauldron | LWA

Chariot is always one to sleep in—which, frankly, irritates Anne to no end (being the early, responsible bird, after all). However…the early, responsible bird notices that this morning is different.

Finnelariot

She's a Peach, an Apricot | LWA

Amanda didn’t expect this. Lotte didn’t either. One burned of passion, a slip of carnality, yet not the words to reach the other so well-spoken. And the other, all the words in the world, from her books, yet not the body that could easily decipher what she wanted.

Amalotte

[Fandom Essays]

…so about that clementine comic: a (very long, sorry) essay | TWDG

Discussion on TWDG & canonicity, pre-comic full release

…about the clementine comic (again): why is she illiterate? | TWDG

Discussion on how weird the comic is about Clementine's knowledge and understanding of her own world (medically/medicinally and linguistically).

ERICSON'S WALLFLOWER: or bpd as a twdg fandom essay, & violet's analysis | TWDG

Exploration and deconstruction of Violet's character in regards to BPD, BPD as a disorder (with experiences pulled from my own), and how stigma gets in the way of understanding both.

Or or I am feral and am still frothing at the mouth over this character plz people appreciate violet 🥺🥺

[canonisdead]

Laa-Laa + Dipsy Survivor AU

Laa-Laa slightly heard the sound of the Dome doors but she just shoves her head under her yellow pillow despite a strong feeling in her chest. She just wanted to sleep despite the nightmares.

But she shot up when she heard Dipsy shouting.

"Okay I'm sorry I woke you up early yesterday! No need to grab at my neck!"

The yellow Teletubby rolls out of bed and for reason grabs a metal object out of her nightstand. She runs to Dipsy's cow print door and it's wide open. She can see the big and towering figure of Tinky Winky on the bed.

The purple Tele has never played a prank in his life so he's not joking around.

Laa-Laa grabs his arm and clicks the first circle of metal around his wrist. His red and white eyes right away lock on her and tries to launch himself at her.

But large Teletubbies are not graceful and she simply dodges and connects the second metal to the bed post.

"Alright, come on, let's talk about this somewhere safer." She runs out of the room but stopped at the dome doors when Dipsy turned to peek into Po's room.

"She's not in her room?"

Laa-Laa nervous casts a look at the purple open door as she hears Tinky struggling to get free from the cuff.

"Check Tinky's room."

He does and shakes his head.

"Okay she probably for some reason decided to try to ride her scooter in the dark."

Dipsy grabs the remaining flashlight on the work bench before following Laa-Laa out.

"So why was Tinky trying to do something to your neck?" Might as well talk about it while finding Po.

"I don't know, I assume because of the thing I did."

"Dipsy you do a lot of things Tinky could try to kill you for."

"I think he was trying to strangle me." Dipsy shrugs, shining the light in different random directions.

Not at the lake. Ugh, why did their home have to be so big?

"I swear we've checked almost everywhere at this point." Laa-Laa sighs, so very tired but they couldn't go home.

Dipsy's light lands on something and suddenly just sharply inhales.

There was a strange creaking noise.

She lifts her green eyes and blinks dumbly.

A red body was swinging back and forth. Being only held up by the rope around the neck.

Laa-Laa probably would have been horrified at such a sight. But she's seen this scene a million times in her nightmares. She's not sure how Po got hung on the tree though.

"O...Okay Po might be a little gremlin at times, but I don't think she deserves this."

Silence entered for a few seconds.

"...Are you suggesting someone hung her there?"

More silence because accusing Tinky Winky of doing it sounded ridiculous. He would never do such a horrible thing to anyone.

"Um, Hi-"

In a panic, Laa-Laa grabbed the flashlight and swung it in the direction of the unfamiliar voice.

They shriek as it breaks against their face.

"Did you just-"

Laa-Laa pushes Dipsy past the unfamiliar figure. "Who cares?! Just run to the caves!"

[tw1stedthicket]

Am I allowed to be this happy????? Lmaooo bed tent is making me so hype. I feel like I shouldn't feel so happy at being this weird little gremlin in my weird little cave but honest to god I am so fucking happy. Like. I feel so safe and protected. I feel so cozy in my nest of blankets. I feel so full of love being surrounded by all my stuffed animal friends, like the whole gang is here. I have my bookcases immediately in front of me with all my books and knick knacks and trinkets that look like a delightful library!!!! And my cozy stand lamp full of teas, honey for the teas, teacups, and stuff is there - also with my hot chocolate/chai stuff nearby. I could definitely move my favorite candles to it too. I can't wait to hang up cute lights and spend some dark, cold winter nights just chilling in here. Playing games on my laptop or switch, reading, crocheting (once I learn how to >.>), writing....watching video game YouTubers like I did in the old days with coryxkenshin. If I want to I can even fuckin. Just seal myself in here with my galaxy lights and dancing bat lights and fully fucking cross the portal to the bat dimension blazed as hell, and just watching some fun video essays and snacks. I can vibe and listen to Christmas music or have movie nights on my laptop or even project the screen against the end of the tent at night! Oh my god imagine the fucking movies!!!! Oh my god, the documentaties. The nature documentaries too -- Planet Earth? While high? In complete darkness? I think the fuck yes. I am. So delighted. The senses are sensory-ing. The whimsy is whimsy-ing. The Creature in me is making delighted Creature sounds.

[vs-redemption]

Soft Sunday: pancakes

*im craving pancakes and I will makes some, cause it’s cold and rainy here*

Atsumu: So he wasn’t a professional cook but he CAN cook. Even learned how to make those fluffy soufflés pancakes JUST for you. Especially after he got all those kisses and a happy face from you. Besides he looks just as good as twin in apron.

Hajime: He like most of his athletic clients are mindful of the amount of carbs they consume. Except when it comes to your request for buttery fluffy pancakes he is officially taking a cheat meal. He adds fruit to get SOME nutrimental value. Still it doesn’t quite compare to your giddy smile when he wakes you up with a plate full of pancakes. Also nice to see flexing biceps so early in the morning.

Mattsun/Osamu: look they will make your pancakes but they are shirtless with bed head and all. You just sit at the counter attempting to cut the fruit up while you watch. Oh and the pancakes look good too😂.

Kuroo: says there is science to fluffy crispy edge pancakes. You don’t argue with his logic cause his pancakes turn out perfect every time, taste wise. Plus he has the kids involved in the mixing process. He gets to enjoy his family and kisses from you every time he cooks up his famous pancakes. Yes he makes shapes out of the pancakes for his kids. Attempts too.

Tobio: takes him awhile to get it. The man is so serious about the timing to flipping the pancakes. He so determined to impress you after you showed him how to make pancakes. He is awarded for his efforts. You get stack full of delicious pancakes and gets a bunch of kisses from you. Sure y’all will have to replace the pan BUT you got pancakes and handsome chef out of the deal

Tendo: You gonna get crepes filled with sweet and savory things. It’s the French way. He can make your regular pancakes. He does go over the top with it. Powder sugar, whip cream, fruit and drizzle of chocolate. Which is fine with you cause you are a CHOCOLATE gremlin. You love chocolate. You got just the right handsome person to indulge you. Delicious pancakes AND eye candy. Oui!

* I will probably be on a Tendo kick cause I been cooking out my French cookbooks lately����*

I will not complain about Tendo headcanons. I love hearing people's ideas and opinions about him. He's such an interesting and underrated character (in my opinion).

Soft Sunday: Pancakes! (With: Atsumu, Iwa, Osamu, Mattsun, Kuroo, Kageyama, Tendo)

I feel like Atsumu would pretend that he can't cook just because he doesn't actually want to. For you though, he's pulling out all the aces up his sleeve. He has a proud grin on his face as he reveals the perfectly made pancakes to you! He will put in a little extra work and make breakfast if it means impressing you!

Sundays tend to be a cheat day for Iwa. He can't help but cave to the pressure when you ask him so sweetly for pancakes 'just this once' with your sleepy morning voice, and adorable tousled hair. He tells himself that he'll just do an extra work out at some point to make up the difference, and he can hardly even bring himself to feel bad after seeing how happy you look with your yummy plate of pancakes.

Mattun's pancakes aren't anything special but it doesn't matter when he looks so mouthwatering while making them. He's still half asleep as he tosses ingredients into the bowl and mixes them up, but there's still an knowing smirk on his face as he feels the heat of your stare on his bare back and shoulders. He definitely makes teasing comments like "you sure you're hungry for pancakes, love?"

Osamu takes his cooking seriously in the morning, of course, but it's also the perfect time to tease you and rile you up. He knows what he's doing as his muscles flex as he chops, mixes and flips the pancakes. He'll make sure the breakfast comes out perfectly, but what he's actually looking forward to is dragging you back to bed for some warm cuddles once both of your bellies are happy and full.

Why can I picture Kuroo turning a pancake breakfast into a whole science project. He has every bowl in the kitchen out, using food coloring to have different colors of batter. He starts quizzing kids on the atomic number of different elements and tries to create electron cloud models with the different colored pancakes. There are so many dishes to do once everything is said and done, but it's actually a really wholesome bonding moment for Kuroo and his kids.

I can totally picture the scowl and look of concentration on Kageyama's face as he tries to follow the recipe and directions you wrote down perfectly. It's not even that complicated but he is so determined to get it right. When you peek in at him to check is progress, you can't help but playfully point out that if he stared at the page much harder smoke would start coming out of his ears. The look of relief and handsome smile on his face after he's done though makes your heart skip!

Tendo does not mess around when it comes to breakfast. He knows all the right combinations of flavors to to have you humming in delight with each bite of his creation. Not only does he get the perfect blend of sweet and fruity, the presentation is also immaculate. He will have all your friends jealous and wishing they could have such masterfully crafted crepes on their lazy Sunday mornings.

[starsailor-kinthepast]

I’m actually considering being either hearted with or identifying as a species of basal human! I’m not sure but I think It’s either australopithecus or paranthropus. Would you mind talking about your experiences being a neanderthal, and what it’s like emotionally and behaviorally? What are some “instincts” that come to mind? Basically anything about yourself and your identity I’m interested in! Thankyou for your time :)

This is tricky to answer, since I'm very unsure what parts of me came about because of my identity versus what parts of me caused my identity, but I'll write them out as best I can!

A list of things I associate with/attribute to my otherhumanism is, in no particular order:

Sleeping habits

Sleeping with furs in my bed (I have some sheepskins) makes me insanely euphoric. I have a fake fireplace as well that gives off the perfect light, and I often have nature ambiances playing on my computer. Even then I long for sharing my bed with someone - not in a romantic or sexual way, just to share space and warmth. Back-to-back or front-to-front or anything at all; I've always slept better with someone else near/present. Discord sleep calls have been my saviour so many times before!

Clothes and fashion

Neanderthals weren't big on decorating their clothes, and like many cultures throughout history we only have a few outfits - usually just for cold and hot weather, maybe an extra overcoat for traveling/hunting. I carry much of this over to today, wearing loose clothes and caring very little about what it looks like. Easy and plain is best for me, and bonus points if it's in natural colors like tan or ochre.

Despite not having an eye for details in clothes in that regard, the visually pleasing is still very important! I'm very sensitive to things like symmetry and geometric shapes, as well as high quality of tools.

Physical contact and touch

All my friends go through a "touching" phase. I go from zero to a hundred rather abruptly with people I get close to; with strangers and acquintances I'm very little touchy out of cultural conditioning. Then, the moment I'm more comfortable with someone, I'll start touching them - just little prods at their arms, touching moles or freckles, plucking at their hair, fiddling with their sleeves or fingers. They usually take this in stride, haha. This is very similar to how we act in our families-tribes-caves-clans! Grooming each other, casual closeness, etc.

Ease with the uneasy

Gremlin mode! I'm the wild child that never grew out of the phase; I'll get dirty and crawl on my hands through mud and wilderness, and it feels so much more natural to just live and exist this way. It's the 'gross' and 'weird' habits many modern societies cast aside.

Interest in pre-history

Ancient humans have always been one of my huge interests. Whether this is because of my otherhumanism, or my otherhumanism came about because of it, I have no idea. But it's there, and now it only serves to strengthen/be strengthened by our connection.

As the seasons go...

Every single aspect of me is affected by the seasons. With autumn I feel restless/the need to hunt, to gather, and prepare. With winter I'm lethargic, sleepy, almost dormant in a way. Spring and summer are similar to autumn, I feel the call of nature and the need to harvest, to gather. Weather has a direct effect on me that's more than just heat. This is also connected to my disability, but serves as yet another tie to neanderthals.

To love the wild

Nature is my soulmate more than anything else ever will be. I love the beauty of it, the rawness of it, that we all came from it. With the reverence that comes from living in it, it isn't surprising. It's more than aesthetics for me; it's life, too, and death. It's everything, it's home. Caves are comfort; fire is comfort. I live in the capital nowadays, and it's killing me in slow-motion. I need wild nature as much as I need air.

Living together

As with sleeping, living in the presence of someone else is... essential. This is more connected to all human nature than anything else I've spoken about; homo sapiens, as a rule, are pack animals. This is only heightened for those of us who yearn for a time/place where the same applies. Communal living is just ideal, really. I miss it.

The physical differences

There's less dysphoria related to otherhumanism than other forms of otherkinity, I've experienced, but it's very much still there. My body is too wrong: too tall, too slim, too weak, too straight. This, despite being short and stocky in build. It's been a point of shame for me before, having broad worker hands and un-attractive proportions, but now it's a source of comfort. It brings me closer to what I should look like.

Instincts

The instincts of neanderthals and sapiens are not very different, and I can't exactly pinpoint them. Still, I can say that my hunter-gatherer instincts are stronger than they've ever been before. Most notably is perhaps the way I feel out-of-place among humans when in nature: I pay a different sort of attention to my surroundings. I change. I scan plants, listen for sounds, try to analyze all I hear and see and feel. A survival instinct wakes up: to be on guard, to look for food, to be watchful and aware. I've never known anyone IRL who reacts to nature that way: like a hunter, like someone hunted. It is out of my control and has made me feel very isolated at times.

Thank you for this ask <3 I really appreciate it! I hope this helped somewhat. Feel free to keep me updated on your journey; I'd love to hear from moder otherhumans!

[sunnycanwrite]

I neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed a sleep deprived tim and the batfam desperatly trying to make him sleep but the ONLY ones who can are alfred and barbara but there somewhere else. it'll be so funny for the batfam to attempt to wrangle tim for a couple hours until either alfred/cass get him to sleep.

i love this prompt! Little heads up I don't write Tim as a coffee addict, due to projecting that he is ADHD and caffeine makes him tired, and since the coffee thing is fanon. But i love this prompt so much so here we go. Hope this helps y'all fic deprived gremlins while ao3 is down.

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Dick had been sitting in the end of the bed, dialing Alfred's number for the last thirty minutes. Everytime it went straight to his voicemail, which was very much not helpful at the moment. The fact that Alfred had gone to Smallville for the weekend, was making the current situation worse.

The situation was: Tim, with a newly broken arn, and a bruise the size of a softball on the left side of his face. Who would not go to sleep until he finished logging in all the details of his patrol for the night. He didn't sleep enough, Tim was a night orl. He'd stay up all night, and catch a fed hours during the day. That normally was fine.

Expect there was no Alfred to get him to bed, a he was injuried, and insist that a good night's sleep would help him heal. And no Cass to sit beside him until he actually fell asleep. And not even Barbara to hack all his devices so he'd be forced to get actual rest.

"We could just put drugs in his tea? They hit, and boom no more problem!" Steph chripred from her place on the other side if the room.

She'd been on patrol with Tim when he'd tiredly stepped off a building and face danced into d dumpster. The small of rotten fruit coming from her, made that clear. As she'd pulled him from it and got their asses back to the cave.

Tim looked over, a confused expression on his face. "I'm just trying to finish my report, there's no issue with me staying up any longer-"

"I'm not the one who walked off a building!"

Tim grumbled under his breath before, looking back down at his computer. He was propped up in his bed, typing with his good hand. It was taking a painstaking long time.

Dick put his phone down, well that was a no on Alfred. Though he'd most likely call back later demanding to know what went wrong. He wanted to try Barbara and Cass, but they were on a League missing. Therefore not helpful at all.

"Injuried people go to sleep." Dick stated, grabbing for his younger brothers computer only to get scratched at in return.

Tim pulled the computer closer to himself. He looked like shit, even without the shiner he would. It was clear he'd skipped sleep a few days in a row for the case he was working on. And would not close his eyes, until he put the final details in the correct file.

[dilatorywriting]

”warning! our weather reports say that it’s the certain time of the month that a certain gremlin who lives in the depths of the internet resurface, I repeat, have a plant or any green objects as close to you as possible, legends say it’s allergic to grass—“

*worming my way outta hell* why, hello there :) not but seriously wasshup🙏😍

I’ve come back after being pulled back by real life shit and oh, what’s that I see? exams lurking around the corner. Menacingly??? Well I better run! 🏃‍♀️ 💨💨💨

(hey how are you, how ya bean? missed this blog hella much and had to stop by, congrats 🎉 you’ve been living in my head rent free, hah, 🥲 been staying hydrated lately and been getting adequate rest? HAH, you should 😡 I will shove water down your throat if and make a contract with a certain kingscholar if you dont)

-🍄

For a hot second I was genuinely like *shocked gasp* how did you KNOW I was coming back to life right now. What is this foreknowledge, you witch. Is my gremlin cave that noticeable?! But then I realized that we are all gremlins and it made more sense lol

But! Thank you thank you! But yeah exams were a NightmareTM that I am only just recovering from. I did that wonderful thing the days afterward where I'd wake up ready and bright to start the morning! And then immediately go "hmmm I feel a nap is in order" and sleep for the entire day. I joked with my flatmate that it was just catching up on all the sleep I missed over the past month of studying and she just looked at me and told me to either get back in bed until I was sane or see a doctor, so bed it was. But! Alive again, I am! Writing lots of fun things, I am! Am happy to be back to having brain space to think of my favorite boyos and not just, like, disease pathophysiology lol

[william-t-sickofyourshit]

William smiled as he read the message from Sebastian. Oh wow, seemed like his boyfriend had a very long talk with Isa. Hopefully it was productive. William already felt kind of relieved, because he imagined that such talk must have help Sebastian in some way. Either it helped him by simply allowing him to get things off his chest, or perhaps Isa offered some support and help? In any case, William couldn’t wait to hear more details later. He texted him back with a quick ‘I love you too <3’ and then left Sebastian to his own devices for now – to go on a nice walk. That will surely feel great after rotting in bed all day yesterday.

So while William got back to his own work, sitting at the desk in the sacristy with his laptop, and trying to wrap things up for the summer Sunday school – Sebastian emerged from his cottage at last. Sun or fresh air didn’t touch his skin since Friday night, so he was kind of like a gremlin emerging from a cave. And he went straight next door to his neighbour, to check on Elijah.

Mrs Broadchurch opened the door for him wearing an apron, and wiping her hands in a kitchen cloth. Well, it was Sunday after church, so her usual baking time. She smiled as she saw Sebastian, and greeted him all friendly, so that was a good sign. “Oh hello Sebastian! Yes, yes Elijah was just helping me in the kitchen. Elijah! Dear, come here for a moment please!” she immediately called out to her nephew.

Elijah came into the door, and it was clear that he was indeed just helping his aunt with baking. He was wearing an apron too, but it was obviously Mrs Broadchurch’s apron so… it was baby blue with white frills. Elijah looked hilarious. But his face turned a little surprised once he saw Sebastian at the door. “Oh… hi Seb.” He mumbled, feeling awkward and flustered.

Mrs Broadchurch left them alone, because she said she needed to tend to things in the kitchen, she had the oven on, so at least they could talk privately. The moment Mrs Broadchurch was out of sight and out of ear-shot, Elijah leaned against the door frame, and lowered his voice as he spoke to Sebastian.

“Oh my God, Seb… so good to see you. How are you? All good?”

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97