#tiny tim is smart

[bluerosefox]

Curiosity and Puzzle Boxes

It was tiny Tim's first time being 'old' enough to be left home alone without a babysitter, and even though he KNOWS he shouldn't mess or play with some of the things his parents sent home from their digs, he's still a very curious child.

Yeah, maybe playing and later solving that old puzzle box that apparently summoned a powerful eldritch being from a different realm and binded them together until his own death might not have been the brightest thing Tim has done... but at least he's not alone now!

Meanwhile, Danny takes one look at the kid who not only summoned him but solved the puzzle box and sighed to himself, this was the last time he took Tuckers advice on how to escape the dumb Ghost King summonings by creating a 'prove yourself worthy' loophole/puzzle.

Also.. where the heck are your parents kid?!?!?

[satoshy12]

De-aged Danny at Gotham University with Jazz

After somehow waking up as a preschooler, Danny wasn't sure what to do. His parents and others were unsure of what to say or do. And as it turned out, they weren't even trying to fix it. As it's again Adorable baby Danny, they can fix it later.

Later Jazz was told to babysit her baby brother while their family was away, something with the G.I.W. or similar in amity park.

So she just took him with her to school. And the funny thing was that the professors accepted him because he didn't scream and make problems. He could stay and listen to the class.

+ Out of sheer boredom, Danny started working on the tests the students were taking, completely unaware that they were considered difficult.

To the teachers' delight, he aced every exam he took. From math to History or Art.

+

Meanwhile, Tim sat in shock, frozen in place until someone had to nudge him to move.

"What's going on?" Damian shouted, breaking the silence.

The engineering professor replied, "He didn't get first place on the test, so he's stuck like this."

"So?" Dick interjected, looking puzzled. "It's not the first time."

The professor added, "He lost to the little sibling of our top student."

He gestured to little Danny, who was strolling past them. Dick did a double take while Damian burst out laughing.

[rin-may-1103]

College Rivalry with the Genius Toddler in the First Row.

My take on this prompt Requested by @purplereaderfans

Danny looked up from his paper, a bright green crayon clutched in his small hand. Jazz patted his head with a quick smile, pushing her chair in so she could start making her way to the teacher, something about the wrong definition if Danny had heard what she'd been muttering correctly.

grumbling, Danny shook his head in an attempt to fix his hair. he hated how everyone was treating him like a child, he was sixteen, almost seventeen for Ancient's sake!

sure, he looked like he was three, but was this really necessary? head pats, baby talk, dumbed-down explanations; it's like they don't notice that he's still mentally a teenager. Like, seriously?

Mom and Dad had been the ones who created the damn device, they should know how to fix this, but did they? no, because; "Aww, Jack, look at him! Isn't our baby boy just the cutest!" and "Why yes, dear, we should get more pictures! It's not like every day a parent gets to witness their kid's toddler years again!"

danny hated it, even Vlad was treating him like a baby! Danny never wanted to hear the man try and speak to him like that again. it might actually be his new nightmare fuel, you know if he wasn't still using what happened with Dan and Pariah to fuel his consistent nightmares, that is.

Danny was ready to start blasting people's knees the next time someone so much as even hinted at dressing him up again. thankfully, for everyone's safety, Jazz noticed he was still mentally normal. She volunteered to take care of him while their parents worked on a way to reverse what their new ghost machine caused. (though he doubted it would be anytime soon, considering the GIW was acting up again.)

which, by the way, apparently wasn't supposed to have de-aged him, but in fact, just you know, 'barrow' his naturally made ectoplasm and knock him out for a few minutes. Ancients, his parents were insane.

he should have known they were going to do something stupid, but no; he had started slacking after revealing his phantom form and getting accepted by them. Because, again, why would he need to keep an eye on them and what they make when they promised to never try and hurt him and his normal rogues again?

they're adults, they should know how to handle themselves. but no.

oh, ho ho, was that such a big oversight on his part. they were Fenton's, of course, he should have kept an eye on them.

no longer making ecto weapons, his parents wanted to learn how to help peacefully capture raging ghosts and how to help heal the injured ones (mostly how to help Danny when he gets hurt). Noble, right?

right?

Wrong. somehow, they managed to create a de-aging device when they were trying to come up with a way to knock out an angry ghost without hurting them. How? Just how?? and what do they do without even testing to see if it would even work? use it on him. because, oh, danny's half ghost, and it's only supposed to make him tired right now, not knock him out. it should be fine.

and now he's a toddler.

a three-year-old toddler.

"psst!" someone hissed, dragging danny's attention away from his crumbled crayon. blinking, Danny dropped the crayon on the table and grumbled. this was the seventh crayon this morning, he really needed to get his strength under control before someone noticed.

"psst, hey kid!" they hissed again, making Danny sigh. turning his head, Danny glared at the weird dude who kept trying to talk to him. The dude usually talked to him like he was an adult, which Danny appreciated, if it wasn't for the fact the dude was hellbent on figuring out danny's secrets.

all because Danny scored more than him on a dumb test.

"What?" Danny grumbled, wiping the crayon crumbs off his hands and onto his pants. the dude, Danny thinks his name is Tam or something, frowned at Danny, watching him wipe the last of the obliterated crayon away.

"aliens," he hisses, leaning forward so he could stare more intently into Danny's eyes. "that has to be it, you and your sister are aliens. probably from some planet that's more advanced than ours."

danny blinked, studied the dude for a second, and blinked again.

"no," turning back, Danny grabbed another crayon and started filling out the worksheet in front of him, making sure to use as little of his super strength as possible.

the dude groaned and slammed his head onto his desk, the sound echoing out and around the silent room like a gunshot. Jazz snorted, pulling out her chair and sitting down. "that one has got to be one of the worst theories yet," she chuckled, turning her body to face the dude.

"you seriously can't believe my brother and I are aliens just because we got higher test scores, Tim." Jazz explained, casually leaning sideways in her seat so she could see him.

the dude, Tim, just groaned, slamming his head back into the desk, his voice muffled, "I wouldn't have a problem with it if it was just you," Tim lifted his head, glaring at him as Danny continued to carefully fill out his worksheet. "I can accept the fact that I'm not the smartest person in the room, I don't like it, but I can do it. I even respect it, having this much knowledge takes a lot of work and dedication, but him?"

"He's three, Jazz. he should be just starting to figure out the names of colors, and noticing differences between things. not astrophysics-level math questions from an April Fools gag test that our Psychology teacher jokingly gave us." Tim's eyes somehow got even narrower as he continued his rant. Danny valiantly tried to keep himself from laughing; Jazz said it was rude to laugh at people, especially if they weren't mentally all there, so he couldn't laugh.

but by the ancients was Tim making it hard.

with a fianl dash, danny smiled triumphantly. Setting the crayon down, he gave the paper a quick once over before deciding he was finally done filling it out.

now, for the moment he was waiting for; turning in his seat, Danny excitedly held up his paper, "Look jazz! I did it!" he had finally managed to complete the paper without ripping the page! and he'd only broken seven crayons! it was progress! there was hope! but Tim didn't need to know that, no, he needed to think Danny was excited about completing the paper.

Jazz, who was just as much of a gremlin as Danny, smiled as she patted his head, "Good job Danny! I'm so proud of you! why don't you go turn it in, I'm sure Mr. Kronmatil would love to see it."

smiling, Danny turned, climbed out of his seat, and started to make his way over to the teacher.

Tim grumbled in annoyance, his crazed theories and curses filling Danny's ears like the sweet sweet sound of music. if there was one good thing that came out of this whole fiasco, it was that Danny was able to work on his studies and cause as much chaos as possible while doing so.

being treated like a baby was all worth it when Danny turned and spotted the same confused and crazed look Tim had been giving him all week. yes, being de-aged wasn't fun, and he didn't appreciate being partially interrogated every time he entered the same room as Tim, but man it was so worth it when he knew he was driving one of the Gotham bat's nuts.

all because he scored higher than him on a test.

He couldn't wait to see Tim's face once the scores were announced tomorrow. He was so going to tell Lady Gotham all about it later.

[naomiknight-17]

Tiny Tim does this thing now where, if I am scritching his head and he wants chin scritches instead, he will reach up with his paw and pull my hand down to the appropriate area

The other day, Tim was sitting on me and Jon was patting his head, and Tim tried to reach for Jon's arm. Jon pulled away, afraid Tim was gonna scratch him but I was like, no no, he's just redirecting you

And sure enough, when he got chin scritches, Tim was VERY happy

He's a funny little cat

[arenjix]

Baby Birds and Bat Caves

By IzzyMRDB

Complete

Summary:

Gotham was built on a cave system. Batman has referenced a Bat Cave before. Tim is currently in the cave system. He is in the cave system that he entered from Drake Manor. Drake Manor is right next door to where Batman- The Bruce Wayne- lives. Holy Cavern, Batman! Tim had just accidentally wandered into the Bat Cave’s cave system. OR Tim, having found a weird hole after a storm, decides to go exploring ignoring the fact that This Is Gotham and They Probably Have Cursed Stuff Down There. Luckily, it was just a cave system that spans the entire Gotham underground. Unluckily, Tim is a very curious child.

(Stats/Tags are under the cut)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics)

Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown & Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Edward Nygma

Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Original Non-Human Character(s), Alfred Pennyworth, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Edward Nygma

Language: English

Additional Tags: Caves, Fluff, Weird Gotham City, Tim Drake-centric, BAMF Tim Drake, Kid Tim Drake, the Bat Cave, Kids are so curious, Smart Tim Drake, Tim please stop running around in gothams cave systems, Stalker Tim Drake, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, no beta we die like robin, Tiny Tim Drake, Tim Drake has the survival instincts of a wet paper bag, Crack Treated Seriously, Humor, Tim looking at the cave system under the city: you know this might as well happen, Bruce please stop him, Child Neglect, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Inspired by Welcome to Night Vale, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Magic shennanigans, BAMF Stephanie Brown, BAMF Cassandra Cain, Edward Nygma Tries, Cryptid Tim Drake, Tim Drake is Crow, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Kid Fic, Stephanie Brown is Starling, Cassandra Cain is Black Bat, Cassandra Cain is Black Bird

Series: Part 1 of Gotham Caves and Reality Aberrations

Published: 2022-03-20

Completed: 2022-06-30

Words: 30,113

Chapters: 20/20

[thedevilundercover]

Tim Drake de-aging fic but everyone is just kind blown how that little monster is the Timothy Jackson Drake that they know.

He’s not even a gremlin, he’s just mean and knows a little too much about stuff than the usual rich brat.

Damian: tsk, you’re such a disgrace the Wayne name.

Tiny!Tim: yeah? And your mother should have swallowed, but we’re both here aren’t we?

or

Jason, thinking he could bully smol Timmy: you stopped so low that you replaced a dead boy! *emo edge lord noises*

Baby!Tim, having learned new slang words via duke and Steph who think this whole thing is hilarious: have you ever thought about just getting better?

Jason: ex-fucking-cuse me?

Tim, shrugging: dying really is just a skill issue ngl

it would be even more funny if he was like this only to Damian and Jason so everyone thinks Tim is such a smart, adorable little boy but the two of them are screaming at Dick and Bruce to get that fucking demonic child exorcised

[glamourscat]

MASSIVE SLAY for calling out the tim drake mischaracterization. If you ever write for him I'll be the first one to read istg

⋆˚౨ৎ Tim Drake HCS ౨ৎ ⋆.˚

<33, thank you :') Tim is not only my fav Robin, but perhaps my fav batfamily member. I can yap about him for hours lmao. and since i am a yapper at heart here some headcanons for Tim, along side A SMUTTY ONESHOT

habit of FaceTiming you after patrol and using it as a gossip (shit talking) session “And you won’t believe what that motherfuck—“

CEO of “this is us”. Spams you with TikTok’s and cringy memes that remind him of you two together or just you in general.

He is chronically online, but not in the cringy gen alpha way, but in the way that he somehow knows every obscure gossips / cancellations happening. Even in niche that he is not into (like chef tini's thanksgiving mac and cheese controversy)

He is so smart, with the highest IQ in the batfamily after Bruce and yet he somehow decides that it's a good idea to try and take the piece of stuck toast with a fork... in a plugged, working, toaster. He is the type of person who's smart academically, gifted even, but never tries-- in fact he finds school boring (and i think this is canon)

Has a private account on social media, the ones that look like fake/bots right? Private with like 10 followers, and he posts mainly his s/o, pictures with his friends and his photography pictures.

He knows how to skate in canon. Stay assured he will teach you how to skate too. Late night skate practices when he doesn't have patrol, or during the summer going to the arcades together -- or driving to the nearest 7/11 to buy a slurpee.

OVER HIS DEAD BODY will he admit this, but he is a cuddler enjoyer. He is pretty short, so if youre slightly taller than him or larger, he is heaven. He likes to bottle up his feelings until he explodes, but, in those quiet nights when he can rests his head on your chest and relax by the sound of your heartbeat... he knows it will all be alright.

Doesn't know how to enjoy things normally. It's even all in with him or none at all. (like i mentioned here) emotionally he is stunned. He either goes down the rabbit hole and become utterly unhinged or is nonchalant, and you know in that moment you have lost him. This can apply for both relationships, friendships and even things like watching a new show or read a new book.

Is so pretty. Long black eyelashes, soft blue eyes that are so bright, his hair are of a shade of black that reminds you of the midnight sky. His muscles are just right. He is pale and yet has a warmness to him you can't really explain.

When he is not patrolling he actually has a pretty stable routine. Tim can be a control freak, and surely he, as the work alcholic vigilante he is, won't make his immune system— which is already weak withouth a spleen— grow any weaker. He takes great care of himself. With going to sleep early, taking breaks, drinks tea, morning walks at 6am...

Has a loud mouth. Most will assume Jason would be the one to swear the most right? And I mean, he is, just not the number one. The number one is this meany right here. Who, in every three words, inserts a swearing word you didn’t even know existed.

Secretly a romantic but not in the "normal way." His love would show up in the little things -> like taking notice of what you like, your fav characters, songs, foods, colour, animal etc.. and keeping it mind when needed. He is there for you when you need him, and he might not be good with words, but for sure he is good at taking care of you with touch.

MIXED TAPES!! You lost the count of how many burned CDs he gifted you, with an accurate playlist of songs chosen mirroring what he wants to portray. Anniversary? Bday? Holidays? He will gift you one along side another present for sure.

“What is this?” Your voice holding a hint of curiosity, surprise even as you look at him with soft eyes

“Pre anniversary gift. I wanted to gift you something— meaningful I suppose” he says shrugging, trying to act nonchalant but failing miserably as his big blue eyes were waiting to hear your contentment.

“Aww, you’re so cute …” you tease, on purpose making your tone slightly higher pitch. It might seem sarcastic, but truly it's not. Because you’re extremely grateful, every mixed tape is a little treasure you cherish with all of your heart. You just enjoy messing with him, because his face goes always so red.

“Alright, shut up now” he says, while rolling his eyes. Trying to act annoyed, but you can see right through him. He is miserably failing with this little act, because his love sick smile is big enough to bright the whole room.

百個心都裝唔晒我對你嘅愛= A hundred hearts would be too few to carry all my love for you | in cantonese

Playlist: Slide away - oasis Useless ID - Kiss Me, Kill Me Kiss Me Deadly by Generation X When it’s time - green day somebody - depeche mode Just like heaven - the cure First date - blink-182 Lucky man - the verve Good good things - descendents Teenage Bottlerocket - Spend the Night Teenage Bottlerocket - Don't Go

The drawing is made by me btw!!

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[artemismoorea03]

DP x DC Prompt: The New Teacher

(So, I've seen a lot of prompts that have Danny go to Gotham and be a teacher but I don't remember seeing any with it in this direction, so on the chance that this is an original idea here we go!)

Jason was given a choice, or multiple choices. Babysit the Replacement on a mission that could last a week, go to Bludhaven and have some 'brother bonding time' with Dick who needed backup on a big case, or take a temp solo-gig in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere called Amity Park.

Well, considering he was still a bit hurt about the fact that B replaced him all those years ago and the pit loved to grab hold of that bit of frustrations towards his younger brother, that didn't seem like a smart idea. Dick wasn't an option either because he knew that would lead to 'talking about feelings' and other shit that he didn't want to do.

So he took the solo-gig.

It was supposed to be easy, at least that's what had been implied by the others he'd spoken to about the case. It seemed like most of the Justice League thought this situation was being 'exaggerated' because most of the time when somebody checked out what was going on there was nothing happening. No big take over, or kidnapping, or 'end of the world' situation, but there had been too many calls to put Bruce's mind at ease. The frequent calls mixed with the fact that the Government apparently had the area under a 'black out' made Bruce even more nervous.

Hell, if it hadn't been for the fact that Bruce was famous and that Scarecrow, Penguin and Riddler had all escaped from Arkham he would have been doing the case himself.

Which is how Jason ended up in a restraunt named 'Nasty Burger' looking at the news papers he had managed to get from a stand down the street while taking notes of things he had already seen. It wasn't just that the Government had cut them off, all of the tech in the city was easily 20 years outdated compared to the rest of the world.

Nokia phones, chunky computers, hell he'd even seen a kid with a PDA of all things. Thankfully, it looked like his tech still worked other than running slower than it should have, but thanks to modifications made by Barbara and Tim things were running better than he expected. But, they did struggle to have access to anything, specifically the news.

Hence the paper.

Ghost Boy: Friend or Fiend. A new vote cast by the city has found that the Ghost Boy - Danny Phantom - has had an astounding rise in support after the events over the Christmas Holiday. The new polls suggest that 43% of Citizens support Danny Phantom, with the majority of his support coming from the students at Casper High who insist that Phantom is a hero who has saved them countless times over the past few months. 49% of people still agree, however, that Phantom appears to be at the center of the majority of the attacks with many still claiming that he is the sole cause of the attacks. However, 8% of the population remain undecided, including many teachers, police and hospital staff. Upon seeing the new results of the pole Mayor Montez had this to say; "While I will admit that Phantom appears to favor the younger generation and frequently seems to come to their aid, we cannot forget what it has done in the past. Taken hostages, injured innocents, and caused millions in property damage. Phantom may not be a 'villain' in the typical sense of the word, but we shouldn't blindly trust him just because of a few good deeds."

So there was a... hero? Half hero - potentially villain - in Amity Park? That might have explained some of the calls they'd gotten from Amity park over the past few months. Still, he was concerned by some parts of the report.

Students at a high school were frequently coming under attack? So much that this potential-villain kept saving them? Just what was the cause? What could cause so many issues?

Jason looked up as he saw that same PDA kid talking with a girl with short black hair in a half-ponytail who was wearing a black crop-top. The girl seemed annoyed while the boy seemed worried about something.

"But it's Vlad, Sam... what if he does something?" He heard the boy whisper, "We should go back him up..."

"He doesn't need our help, besides Jazz ran away from home, remember? She got herself into this mess it's her problem to get out of it. Something that Danny should have learned a long time ago."

Jason frowned, pretending not to hear them as he hesitated then got up and walked over to the two younger teens. "Hey, excuse me."

The girl looked annoyed and suspicious while the boy looked confused.

"Uh, yeah?" Tucker asked.

"Hey, sorry to bug you both. But could you guys tell me about this... 'Danny Phantom' person?" He asked, holding the newspaper out.

The girl looked even more suspicious, "And... who are you?"

"And how haven't you heard of Phantom?" Asked the boy.

"I just moved to town." Jason admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, I'm just trying to catch up on all the town drama."

"You moved to Amity Park... willingly? Psh, what do you have, a deathwish?" The girl grumbled.

"Come on, I just moved from Gotham, which is worse?"

The girl blinked as the boy laughed.

"Furries vs Ghosts, who will win~" He said as the girl elbowed him. "Ow! What?!"

"Danny Phantom is a hero." The girl explained, "He showed up in April and has been protecting the town since."

"A hero, huh? Could always use more of those in the world, but the mayor seems to have it out for him."

Tucker sighed, "No kidding, man. Somebody framed Phantom for something really bad and no matter what he does to try to fix it the city just see's that incident as the only thing he's ever done. It was the first big 'public thing' outside of the high school so it was huge but it wasn't his fault."

The girl reached for her phone suddenly, looking at it before she answered. "Hey, Danny. What's up?" She was quiet for a moment, "Yeah, we're at Nasty Burger, wanna join us? Lunch on me?"

A quiet mumble came through the speaker before she smirked.

"I'll order for you then. Double or triple?"

More mumbles.

"Triple it is. See you soon." She said, then hung up. "Come on, Tuck, Danny is on his way for lunch."

"Hell yeah, see you later, dude." The boy said, then jogged off with the girl.

"A teacher? Yeah, it looks like there's some openings but why would you want to have your cover as a teacher?" Oracle asked as Jason sat in his hotel room, looking through the paper again.

"Most of the incidents seem to surround the High School, I want to see what's going on."

Oracle hummed, typing for a moment. "Alright, well as luck will have it, it looks like teachers are sparse at Amity High, at least from what I'm able to get using your connection... which is infuriatingly slow, by the way, are you sure you did it right?"

"I've done it a million times, of course I did it right."

Oracle grumbled, "Stupid Amity black-out. Okay, so you have options. Most of the teachers have fucked off so all of the teachers in Freshmen year switch around to cover lessons or do mixed lessons. For example the English teacher also teaches Math and the normal Math teacher also teaches Science. So it looks like you could have any position you want and the school would just shuffle around the teachers."

"You said English is taken, right?"

"Yep, the teacher is named William Lancer and he- oh... wait, he's on a leave of absence due to injuries he suffered over Christmas Break. Concussion, broken arm, and bruised ribs, he'll be out for a few weeks."

Jason smirked, "Perfect. Sign me up."

". . . Jason, the English and Math teacher... never thought I'd see the day. Alright, I'll type up your application, send it in and casually push it to the front of the line. You'll be official by the time Winter Break ends in a few days. So get studying."

"Sounds like a plan, but I'll be fine, I mean our family is crazy and i deal with criminals on a nightly basis. How hard could this assignment really be?"

He would regret asking that question by the end of his first day as an Amity High School teacher.

[boysborntodie]

Details from The Outsiders you may have forgotten or missed

-Cherry doesn't appear after the hearing (her not waving Ponyboy is just a movie thing)

-Ponyboy fucking hates people with green eyes so bad and gets pissed when someone points out he also has green eyes

-Steve always combs his hair into complicated swirls

-The Greasers always play football together

-Soda is one of the only Greasers who never gets drunk

-He also doesn't smoke unless something is bothering him or he wants to look tuff

-Darry, on the other hand, never smokes because it would affect his perfect body which he is very proud of

-Darry is also proud of being smart and sensible

-Ponyboy is the heaviest smoker out of the Curtis family

-Johnny started smoking at 9 and Steve at 11

-Johnny would've run away from Tulsa if it weren't for the gang

-Soda gives killer massages

-Ponyboy's razor wasn't working while he had to dissect a frog so he just took out his knife

-Darry goes skiing with some of his old friends sometimes

-Cherry and Marcia barrel race often and are pretty good at it

-Soda used to ride in rodeos but after breaking a ligament, his dad made him quit

-Sometimes Soda and Steve let Ponyboy help them fix the cars at the DX

-Johnny is the most law-abiding of the gang, and didn't even carry a knife until the Socs jumped him

-Cherry has an older brother

-Ponyboy used to have a yeller cur dog

-Johnny's scar his from his temple to his cheekbone (it's huge and also hard to look at)

-Two-Bit is great at doing impressions

-Two-Bit often raises one eyebrow, and the gang associate the gesture with him

-Dally and the Curtis mother got along well before she died

-Ponyboy is a scarily good liar

-Ponyboy notes that while he sees Johnny as a scared puppy, he actually looks rather hardened and cold to a stranger

-Johnny's skin is lighter under his bangs

-When at the church, Johnny puts his jean jacket over Ponyboy while he went out to get groceries

-Steve, Dally and Two-Bit wouldn't have thought of buying soap at a grocery store

-Ponyboy calls himself a Pepsi addict

-Dally hardly ever cuts his hair

-Johnny loves drag races

-The Curtis Dad took the brothers out hunting often in the country

-Ponyboy has the best aim but hates shooting

-Dally heard of the old church from a cousin

-Ponyboy is the youngest person on the track team but still one of the fastest

-Darry was the closest to their dad

-Steve once called Darry 'all brawn ans no brains' which made Darry made because it reminded him of the fact he didn't go to college

-Darry will suddenly pick up a random Greasers and swings them around

-The Curtis Dad used to call Soda 'Pepsi-Cola'

-The Shepard gang and the Curtis gang have fought seriously on at least on occasion (but it's nothing compared to the rumble)

-The Curtis brothers stayed at the hospital all night for Johnny and Dally until a doctor forced them to leave

-Johnny has a clean police record

-Ponyboy chews his fingernails when nervous

-Johnny often sleeps at Two-Bit's house

-The Curtis brothers all have huge appetites

-Darry always checks Ponyboy's Math homework for mistakes

-Johnny looks like his mother; having the same black hair, dark eyes and tiny built/height

-Soda did actually try really hard to stay in school but he kept failing

-Darry and Ponyboy both enjoyed school and athletics while Soda isn't into either

-The only thing Dally did honestly was jockeying

-Johnny really good at poker (or Ponyboy is really bad)

-The only time Johnny has been confident and not scared in his life, was when rescuing the kids in the church

-Johnny actually gets hurt because he pushed Ponyboy out first of the church

-Sodapop loves attention and was good with the reporters

-Sodapop has a crazy sweet tooth

-The Curtis brothers all love chocolate

-Darry never locks the front door in case one of the gang need a place to stay

-Ponyboy once found Tim Shepard sitting on their couch reading the newspaper

-Ponyboy thinks that Two-Bit wouldn't have gone inside the church if he was there

-Two Bit wished that the one hurt was anybody but Johnny and that the gang would have still been able to get along had it been anyone else

-Darry once took an aerobatics course and taught all the Greasers everything he knew

-Soda and Two-Bit were doing aerobatics and then got arrested for disturbing the peace

-The Curtis gang are noted to be better at fighting than the Shepard gang

-Tim Shepard looked like a model from the magazines Ponyboy reads

-Ponyboy notes that sweat ran down Dally's face when Johnny died, but it was probably tears

-Cherry drives a Sting Ray

-Curly once slipped off a telephone poll and broke his arm

-Johny's a good listener and all the members of the gang often go to tell him about their day or their problems

-Johnny says in his letter that the lives of kids were worth more than his

[emacrow]

Alfred's is a father once more... Bruce is not handling this well. Pt 2

Sequel to the first post of this.

Bruce and the batfam are very used to alfred's schedules that he put them all on so that both daytime and vigilante night time are perfectly schedule.

So to enter the dining hall with their food already present, Bruce's newspapers and coffee with his pain pill on a napkin already set without the butler man himself ready to scowl him into next Tuesday because he was supposed to be on a 'break'.

Something was definitely wrong...

Everyone is commentary concerns wondering if Alfred is sick or just very upset about Bruce. Duke suggests they check his room or the kitchen.. which they did and he wasn't there at all. Damian suggested his personal green house garden which Dick isn't allowed back in yet. He still have 3 week left before alfred take the banned from the green garden after the last incident.

At this point everyone is highly concerned and Tim is ready to hack into the mainframe of the manor to look for exactly where alfred was.

Only for alfred to lightly cough a bit in his hand, at the front of the backdoor porch of the Wayne Manor holding a tiny baby boy in new soft button up one piece baby onesis that was light pastal blue easily with one hand.

"My great grandson will be living with me in the nursery room after I had dusted it clean, and cookies will be done in 45 minutes." Alfred said softly yet sternly as he turn around walking back inside the manor.

Everyone of the batfam is shocked like a deer in headlights, except for Damain who looking awestruck with literal stars in his eyes and Bruce who look frozen or his rebooting in his mind after a 20 seconds of overanalyzing short-circuit because Alfred didn't mention much of his Family beside a very over-energetic and smart granddaughter and her a bit dim-witted but intelligent husband in a orange suit.

Damian's and Bruce's reaction in my opinion

New post

[rhiaemrys]

All of those Batfamily de-aged fics, but like, they’re all in their "Trouble-Maker Era". This is primarily to create as much chaos as physically possible, and potentially cause Batman a stress aneurysm.

Like, Dick Grayson, going from a relatively well adjusted (for a vigilante which isn’t saying much) to a tiny crazed 8 year old Robin who is ready to Fight God or die trying. He keeps perching on chandeliers, throwing stuff at people and hitting Damian over the head every time Damian mentions hes Robin.

Jason Todd, who was a well settled Red Hood. Little murder, but mostly having fun with the outlaws and saving the world. Now is an angry recently resurrected 19 year old bent on beating the Bat up. Currently he's gone to the wind. No one knows where he's at, but once something blows up they'll use that as a triangulator.

Cassandra Cain, who already is a stubborn shit at the best of times but has learned to compromise more and more over the years, is back to the homeless child that Bruce found during No Mans Land. She only trusts Bruce and Duke and is utterly willing to wreck anyone else who gets close to them.

Tim Drake, who has found his calling as whatever call sign he chooses, is now launched back to “All my friends and family are dead or think I’m in desperate need of therapy (which I am but god forbid I admit that), I think I’m a little insane with grief so let me traverse the entire world and work with one of my adoptive fathers greatest enemies to find him” Red Robin era. He's been holed up in his room running the calculations that this is a doomsday scenario since he got back from being de-aged.

Stephanie Brown (who, unlike the rest was smart enough to run for the hills when the magic user appeared, yelling out that this one is for the idiot boys, but unfortunately got waylaid by Cass), is now a new Spoiler who is spoiling to fight Batman barehanded because he said that she should go home.

Duke is back to the Robin War gang era and along with Dick, ready to Fight God. Hes got like, fifty makeshift weapons at one time and ends up teaming up with Cass.

Damian, currently Robin and doing very well in the role, is now back to the newly acquired child stage where he’s attempting to prove himself to both sides of his heritage. He ends up being terribly endearing to Bruce solely because, even if it's only partial, at least Damian sticks around for the whole lecture when the crew gets in trouble (he's only doing that so he can find loopholes).

It concerns Bruce how many of these literal children are either down to murder or take out their siblings should said sibling Attempt To Murder.

[confused-wanderer]

So- uh.. Batman started journaling days when he adopted Robin because he had no idea how to handle a kid-let alone a murderous one- and was trying to note down important information like what the child likes and doesn’t, what triggers them etc etc.

He also maintains a separate series detailing their interactions with villains and notes on if the child should be allowed near the villain and vice versa along with rules to implement with children and procedures to follow in case of their meeting.

Damian has five volumes written after him, which still continue to this day. Tim’s had fifty, Stephanie’s had twenty, Jason’s had eighty nine. But Dick? Dick has a hundred and twenty, atleast fourth of those written within his first month as robin. Why?

Exhibit 1

Batman: Ivy, listen to me-

Ivy: NO Batman! They’re destroying ecosystems, hunting endangered species, poisoning the rivers and-

Robin!dick *eyes in shock* : Is this true Batman?

Batman: .. yes

Robin!dick: oh..so why aren’t we helping Miss Evie?

Ivy:

Batman:

Batman: uh..because she’s breaking the law

Robin!dick *crossing his arms* : But didn’t you say the system is flawed? And how sometimes matters need to be taken into your own hands?

Batman: Hold on-

Robin!dick: Come to think of it, is what we’re doing legal? You steal police information and beat up thugs. If you’re doing it to save lives, so is she!

Ivy *enjoying watching this stubborn child making batman sweat as he tries to argue and eventually agrees to help Ivy in a better way, giving Dick a flower when he leaves*

Bruce knows that Dick would absolutely not mind sabotaging factories or blowing up shit with a supervillain. All he needs is a good reason.

Exhibit 2

Riddler: Aha! Now.. riddle me this-

Robin!dick: .. Why are you so ugly?

Riddler: ..wha-

Robin!dick: And are you lonely because there are better ways to find friends.

Hours of insulting later

Robin!dick; If you’re so smart, tell me this: What animal roars when threatened, laughs when hungry and burrows underneath for the entire year, very dangerous to humans but a herbivore and tiny?

Riddler:

Riddler: * a few hours later, on his knees after complying with every one of batman’s demands, going hysterical and pulling out his hair while rocking back and forth*

Batman *getting increasingly concerned* Robin tell him

Robin!dick: Nope! *walks away*

Riddler spent fifty days in Arkham. The riddle still haunts him to this day. Dick doesn’t know the answer either.

Exhibit 3

Penguin *appears*

Gremlin Dick who’s been waiting to kick the shit out of someone: GOLLY BATMAN LOOK A PIÑATA!

Batman *running after Dick before he murders Penguin*

This is why none of the villains bat an eye at the bat kids antics anymore. And whatever they do, they thank their lucky stars they’re not as bad as the first one was.

[suzukiblu]

. . . so I know the understandable fandom cliche is for Tim to make a grief-baby from his and Kon's DNA for handwave-y reasons, but LOGICALLY, given his incredibly messy downward spiral, if he DID need extra DNA to stabilize his custom Kon, wouldn't he use Steph or Bart's? Wouldn't one of them be the obvious choice to his messed-up self?? He is SPOILED for dead people's DNA to use!!

Anyway that's my new pitch for a Timkon clonebaby now, tiny little blonde gymnast with bright yellow eyes and a Speed Force connection and tactile telekinesis and a thing for sunbeams and three INCREDIBLY STUBBORN and too-smart-for-their-own-good brains jammed into one. Tim, you will regret this so much, and not because of the dubious ethics of the situation or anything like that but because you are gonna have to deal with Kon, Steph, AND Bart's collective "why??" and "no!!" phases all wrapped up in one tiny superchild.

And THEN you will get to explain said tiny superchild to ALL THREE OF THEM when they ALL come back.

Tim, full-on spiraling as he cooks up clonebaby soup in the Titans Tower basement: this is a normal stage of grief :)))

Cassie, somewhere, feeling a chill up her spine: gods Tim please don't be Gun Batman again

[gilverrwrites]

The Tim Drake sex pollen fic is so fucking good!!!!!

it makes me think of a similar scenario with the other Bats...

like maybe this time you're the one who's affected and Bruce is there to watch you and encouraging you to touch yourself because he knows it'll help. But you're like "No way, I'm not doing that with you right here!!" and he's like "I can turn around." and you're like "You won't be watching me through the cameras? 🤨" because you both know he'll insist on keeping an eye on you, not even for horny reasons at first, just to make sure you're ok.

But then you get more desperate and eventually give in and start touching yourself even though you know Bruce can see you, but maybe that's making it even better and maybe you start begging him to touch you and UGH just. sorry it's just such a delicious scenario. <33

I actually have a re-occurring fantasy about Bruce getting infected by some kind of sex toxin/pollen that makes him go bull in a china-shop levels of feral which I’f love to share. But I’ve never considered it the other way around, anon you saucy little minx, I love this. ♥︎ Warnings: exhibitionism/voyeurism | teasing | dub-con (by the nature of sex pollen)

Undressing and allowing Bruce to see you stripped completely bare was bad enough. You couldn’t put it off any longer though, your skin felt, still feels like it’s ablaze. But as the debilitating level of pain in your gut continued to sear throughout your veins it was becoming harder and harder to resist the inevitable. What’s worse is, there was no place to hide your shame, no corner you could crawl into and relieve yourself in without giving him a show.

“I’ll only be checking on you to make sure you’re okay.” He’d told you with that booming voice, inadvertently causing a shockwave of arousal to roll through your already severely aching core. You could tell he’d tried not to, but he couldn’t resist letting those brilliant blues roam over your nude form. The tiny bit of rationale you had left told you he was just examining you from a medical standpoint; the look was purely professional. But the rest of you, every nerve, every inch of untouched fevered skin called out for him to keep looking. To open that door and devour you six ways to Sunday. The fantasy of Bruce, sturdy and brooding, losing his composure as he pins you beneath his formidable frame and drives his cock into your needy hole is what you’re lost in as you finally take the plunge and delve your fingers between your legs.

You’d thought your body was overheating, but your wet walls are scorching as you begin to fuck yourself, no longer caring about your surroundings, or the one man audience as you get lost in the relief, in the chase. You know it’s going to feel so good when you find it, you just need more. Need to feel full.

Bruce relentlessly taps his fingertips on the desk at a speed The Flash would struggle to match as he watches you. How your dark and swollen pussy swallows up your two fingers. Then a third, and a fourth and no matter how much he tries to will his body, he can’t keep from watching. Can’t stop thinking about how good your wet walls would feel as he fucks you with all his might. Can’t fight the way his dick throbs as he recognises the curve of your lips. Your cries are muted by the cell but he knows you’re calling his name.

He’s smart enough to know it’s because you’re thinking of him. Wishing it were him splitting you open and filling you up. He wishes it were him too, and that’s why he deliberately misinterprets your pleas as a cry for help. Hurrying to your cell door so he can press down on the comms link and hear your vulgar cries first-hand.

BZZT. “B-b BRUCE PLEASE.” He’s grateful he hasn’t removed his cape yet, allowing him to use it as a shield to hide how he palms his restless cock through his Kevlar tights. “pleasefuckmebrucefuckmefuckmefuckmepleasebruce.”

“Please what?” He pretends not to have overheard your quiet chanting. It’s mean, he knows it, teasing you with his presence, knowing he can’t give you what you want. But it is worth it to see the carnality of your gaze as your lids dart open. Soaking him in as you fuck your weeping cunt even harder. “What do you need?”

“I need you, Bruce.” Your voice is so low, coming from the bottom of your chest as you struggle to get your words out clearly, cracking and shaking in time your thrusts.

“Need me to what?” Your back sharply arches against the floor, your toes curling into the air in response to him. If only you were this agreeable in the field he thinks, but then again, he quite likes you in the position you’ve gotten yourself into. “Tell me exactly how you want me to help you.”

Taglist: @wandalfnation

[takemetomyfragiledreams]

This is a wip about banshee!Tim gradually adopting all the bats and keeping them alive. It has the possibility to be an eventual Robin pile but I haven't fully decided on where it'll go. The original intention was to eventually have it be damitim but honestly it could go jaytim, dicktim or just robin pile. If you have a preference I'm all ears.

Talia becomes aware of her father’s shadow at the age of five. A boy with skin so white she half expects him to be translucent and eyes so frigid they put the winter sky to shame. He lingers in shadows and darkened corners, ever silent and ever watching. Her father never mentions him, not even when he perches on the arm of his throne or steals bits of meat from his plate. She half thinks she’s crazy for the first thirteen years of her life but doesn’t once dare to ask. Secrets get you killed in this world and this is one she’s not willing to die for.

He never speaks to her. Never seems to speak to anyone. He’d be an afterthought if his presence wasn’t so alien. 

At the age of thirteen, the night before her first solo mission, she wakes to find him sitting on the edge of her bed. No scream comes; she’s learned the only one she can depend on is herself. 

He touches a finger to his lips and she remains silent as the guards outside walk past. When the lights from under the door fade, he speaks for the first time. 

“Tomorrow, you’re going to die.” 

Talia’s hand curls around the blade beneath her pillow. “Is this a threat?” 

“A fact.” His face is cold, emotionless. It’s like looking into the depths of a still pool; all she sees is herself staring back. “You will die many times in this world and you will pay dearly for your return.” 

“The pit,” she understands. 

“If you’re smart, you’ll start saving what pieces of yourself you have left. You’ll need them one day.” He stands. Instead of opening the door, she watches as he finds tiny handholds in the stone of her wall and begins to climb to the ceiling. There’s a small hole six meters up, where the smoke of her fires can escape. It’s barely big enough for his head.  

“Who are you?” She calls as loud as she dares. 

“When the time comes, I will scream for you. Follow the sound back.” 

He vanishes out the hole like smoke, body contorted into impossible shapes. Talia lays down and stares up at that dark maw of space until her eyes blur and droop. 

Three days later she can’t stop the sword from cutting through her chest. She slices through her enemy but it’s too late. Her knees fall out from under her as her mouth opens in a silent cry. 

Across the room, she sees a boy’s eyes turn from icy blue to black as his mouth contorts into the shape of a horrific scream; the sound rings in her ears long after it’s over. 

It’s the last thing she hears as she dies and the first she hears as she comes gasping from the Pit, naked and shaking as her heart restarts in her chest. 

He stands in the shadows when her father holds a hand out. Always watching. Waiting.

This repeats twenty times in the span of a hundred years. Twenty times in which she dies to a scream and returns to one. And then it stops. 

He’s sitting in front of a machine, eyes big as he presses his palms to the glass. She feels something sick in her stomach but cannot place just what it means. Motherly instinct? The desire to whisk her growing child out of sight and away from this creature no one ever seems to talk about. 

“His name,” he says, “what will you call him?” 

The last thing she wants to do is tell him. Still, she cannot stop herself. 

“His name is Damian.” 

“Damian,” he sighs, croons, growls. “Damian Wayne-al Ghul.”

She never told him who the father was. 

The day Damian is born is the day she loses him, if she ever had him in the first place. It’s in the way he looks past her to stare into the shadows; the way his nose scrunches and his lips curl in delight; the way he waves his grasping hands and the way she cannot stop him from leaving her arms. 

“Tim,” he babbles up at the monster that has dogged her life and death. She didn't even know he had a name to give.

Damian giggles and pats at a pale cheek with his own colored fingers. “Tim!” 

Tim smiles a ghastly, jagged sort of smile down at him. It’s like watching someone learn how to feel for the first time; unnatural, yet impossible to look away from. There’s color in his face for the first time, a light in his eyes like the first thaw of spring. 

“Damian,” he says like it’s something reverent, something holy. It’s the level of devotion a prince deserves but she cannot find it in herself to be pleased. 

It’s then that she acknowledges the bitter truth: Tim scares her in a world where she is not meant to be afraid of anything. He’s the only being she fears save perhaps her father and he’s looking at her son like he hung the stars.

What bitter irony. 

For the first time, she comes to him. He’s standing just outside Damian’s room, looking in like there’s nothing he wants more and less than to go inside. 

“Normally you’re inseparable. What is it?”

He’s silent for so long that she half convinces herself he’s an illusion. 

“I’m leaving.” 

Talia blinks. He’s never left once; not that she’s aware of. “Leaving?”

“If I stay, he won’t turn into the boy he needs to be to survive what’s coming.” Tim turns almost human eyes on her. He looks drawn and tired. “I won’t be able to let you hurt him.” 

“I would not—"

“You would. You know nothing else.” 

They stand together, staring at the closed door in mutual contemplation. Finally, Tim sighs. 

“You’ll do your best to kill the good in him, but remember death is never permanent. Not for an al Ghul. Do more than that and I’ll come for you. I don’t care what destiny says.” 

Talia’s hands itch for her knives, but she does not reach. She knows better. “When will you return?” 

“When I’m needed.” He turns to meet her eyes, small but oh so fierce. “Teach him well, Talia. Show him what he needs to know to survive.” 

He’s gone before she can respond. They both know she will do nothing less. 

(Still, he scares her; Talia al Ghul is not meant to be afraid of anything.) 

[baekhyunsbestie]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🎃 do you like scary movies? 🔪 .𖥔 ݁ ˖

a lil disclaimer before you dive in: this goes pretty dark. we’re talking obsession, stalking, breaking and entering, some seriously pervy vibes, and even murder. i just want to say that i absolutely do not condone any of this behavior in real life— this is all purely fictional and should stay that way, okay? if this typa story isn't your vibe, no worries!!!!! protect your peace and scroll on. take care of yourselves😚💞‼️

 ੈ✩‧₊ content: 18+/MDNI. 5.3k+ words. smut, language, baekhyun x f!reader--baekhyun is a psychologist and reader is a bakery owner, no ages specified, but i was thinking mid-late twenties!! they're also next-door neighbors 🙂‍↕️ hehe

baekhyun sits on the edge of his desk in his dimly lit home office, the dissertation on his computer screen long forgotten. his eyes drift to the sheer curtains, gently moving with the breeze from his open window. hours pass quietly, and his patience grows thin, stretched to its limit. hidden behind the ghostface mask, his deep brown eyes stay locked on you, his alluring neighbor next door.

outside, the world blurs into the background as he tunes out the laughter of the children in your care, his gaze completely captured by your captivating presence. earlier, he had seen the parents wave goodbye, their silly costumes hinting at a halloween party awaiting them. it was no surprise they chose you to babysit tonight; you were the life of the party, casting a spell on the kids in a way that even sabrina spellman would envy.

every movement of yours is etched into the chaotic corners of his mind. you embody perfection as you effortlessly play dress-up with the kids, sharing sweet treats and settling in for another tim burton film. that beautiful smile adorns your lips—a smile that, while it doesn’t quite reach your eyes, is enough. enough to delight the children, enough to maintain appearances. but baekhyun sees beyond the surface; he can read the subtle nuances that betray your true feelings. he knows that if these were your children—his and yours—you would shine with a warmth and devotion that’s unmistakable. the mere thought triggers a fire within him, sending a rush of desire coursing through his veins, and a low groan escapes his lips. but how could he ever convince you to have his kids when you don’t see him that way?

he knows he needs a plan—a way to draw you in and make you see the real him. in his mind, he's a catch, someone truly special. he tells himself he's a good guy, a smart one, too, with a promising career as a psychologist and a hefty retirement plan waiting for him. he believes he’s perfect for you, convinced that he could take care of you in ways no one else could. little does he realize, he’s always watching from the shadows, convinced that his intentions are pure, even as his obsession grows deeper.

and after all, he knows so much about you. he’s aware that you’ve recently moved here from a few towns over, stepping into a new life as a single woman with no kids. he would never forget seeing you for the first time. it was a sunny spring day, the weather was perfect, the moving truck parked in the drive way out front, while watching your family and friends help unload and organize the furniture in your new house. 

you’ve opened a small, cozy bakery, every pastry crafted with love and care. the warm, inviting space reflects your personality—painted in shades of your favorite color. scattered horror movie posters, especially scream, show your love for slasher films.

from his office window, he watches. he can see straight into your living room, where your tv bathes the room in a soft light. you’re always lounging on the couch in those tiny shorts that make his mind race. weekends are your time, dedicated to marathons of horror films, with scream playing over and over, clearly your favorite.

you’re all alone in that big house, and he can’t shake the feeling that you need him. he’d be the missing puzzle piece—fitting you perfectly. he imagines himself slipping into your life, the one who helps you at the bakery and shares your love for horror. he envisions nights where your screams of pleasure would align perfectly with the shrieks on the screen as he brings you to your climax, down on his knees before you, his head between your legs. 

baekhyun fondly recalls the day, just after your move-in, when the mailman mistakenly dropped your letters into his mailbox. a wicked grin spread on his face at the memory; finally, he could introduce himself. after thirty minutes of rehearsing his lines in front of the mirror, he stands at your door, donning his friendliest smile, excitement bubbling just beneath the surface. 

when the door swings open, he’s struck breathless by your presence—so devastatingly beautiful, you. he notices the broom in your hand, hinting that you’ve been tidying up. you wore denim overalls over a simple tank top. your hair is swept up in a claw clip, with a few loose strands gently framing your face. sweat glistens on your forehead, clinging to the sides of your cheeks, accentuating your expression of confusion.

“oh. um, hi? can i help you?” you ask politely, a hint of an awkward smile gracing your lips.

baekhyun snaps out of his daze, realizing he’s been standing there in silence. he clears his throat, shaking off the momentary haze before speaking, “hi, i’m your next-door neighbor, baekhyun. welcome to the neighborhood. um, i believe this is yours; it was in my mailbox.” he offers you the mail, his nervousness evident in his slightly trembling hands.

you invite him inside for a glass of lemonade, gratitude dancing in your eyes as you thank him for the mix-up. with a playful tone, you mention how you’re still getting used to the kindness of people in smaller towns. as you lead him to the kitchen, you apologize for the clutter of boxes and bubble wrap scattered around. he takes a seat at the table, casually glancing around while you fetch the drinks. his eyes wander to the living room bookshelf, where a few self-help books catch his attention. baekhyun, not missing a beat, shares that he’s a psychologist, mainly focusing on writing dissertations to bring fresh perspectives to cognitive psychology. you find his work captivating—so much so that you tell him, with genuine admiration, that people like him make the world a better place.

oh, if only you knew.

as you talk, you weave together the threads of your life—how you left everything behind after a painful breakup with the man you once believed would be you’d grow old and gray with. the memory stings, recalling how he would betray your trust with your best friend while you were away on business trips. you share how that heartbreak changed everything, ultimately guiding you to this charming old house that now feels like home. 

you explain how you quit your old job, a role that never truly fulfilled you. then, your eyes light up as you reveal your childhood dream of opening a bakery—a dream you’re finally chasing. you’ve even signed the lease for a cute little space right in the heart of downtown, a step closer to making that dream a reality. 

unbeknownst to you, as you sit beneath the soft glow of your kitchen light, baekhyun feels an overwhelming wave of desire wash over him. he’s rock hard beneath the kitchen table, ever since you opened the door and welcoming him in. he’s utterly entranced by the way your hands unconsciously glide over your bare thigh as you speak, igniting a fire within him. the light in your eyes sparkles with passion, your voice a melodic cadence as you share your visions for your bakery—the delicate pastries and savory sandwiches that will soon fill your charming shop. it’s all too much for him; you seem perfect—too perfect for this world.

then, as you lick the last drop of lemonade from the rim of your glass, the sinful thought of those same lips and tongue and how they’d feel on his aching dick pushes him to reach his climax. a shudder runs through him, and he bites back a groan, hiding it behind an exaggerated yawn. he blames it on the sleepless nights spent in research. thankful for the baggy black sweats he wears, he quickly excuses himself, a rush of embarrassment flooding his cheeks as he retreats, relieved that the fabric conceals the mess he’s made underneath.

after that, the interactions blend into casual small talk and fleeting waves of hellos and goodbyes, leaving him longing for more of those stolen moments with you.

he remembers spending hours diving into your social media after your first meeting, each scroll revealing new pieces of your story. in just a few hours, he learned so much about you. he knows your favorite foods, cocktails, and music, and he can name all the concerts and festivals you’ve attended, along with the places, dates, and people you went with. he’s familiar with all the vacations you’ve taken and the hobbies that make you smile. every like and dislike, every old post of you and your ex-boyfriend, painted a picture of who you are—one that captivated him completely.

thoughts of that past lover linger like shadows in his mind, the one you left behind in search of solace. the idea that someone could wound you so deeply, sending you fleeing to a new town, sets off a fierce rage within him. he clenches his fist around the knife resting against his thigh, its cold steel spinning slowly between his fingers, a dark reminder of the lengths he might go to. 

he could kill him. both of them—your douchebag ex and slut of a best friend. the thought excited him, a twisted thrill coursing through his veins. he imagined taking his time, savoring every moment as their lives faded away. a laugh might escape him as he’d watch the light leave their eyes, knowing he was doing it all for you—the love of his life. just the thought of your smile and the melody of your laughter quickened his heartbeat. he would go to any lengths to ensure your happiness, willing to pay any price to keep you safe. all you’d have to do is say the word.

just then, snapping out of his thoughts, the parents return, their footsteps echoing on the driveway before a knock sounds at the door. the children, who’ve been squealing with laughter all night, race to the entryway, eager to greet their parents, still decked out in their poorly chosen costumes. and finally—finally—they shuffle out one by one, leaving the house to fall into a peaceful, almost eerie silence, with only you left to occupy the night. 

this is it. the moment has arrived, the one he’s been anticipating all night.

baekhyun fished a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, the hastily scrawled digits smudged and jumbled—a chaotic reflection of his flustered thoughts. these were the personal details he had picked up while lounging on his porch, book in hand and coffee in the other, absorbed in the quiet of the morning. he could still hear the rhythm of your breath from your daily jog as you approached your house, your voice lilting with familiarity as you chatted on your phone, casually reciting your number to the person on the other end. with a decisive flick of his wrist, he pulled out his phone, his fingers dancing across the screen with a fluidity born from habit, dialing your number with a sense of anticipation thrumming in his chest.

his gaze remained locked on the window, watching intently as you casually tossed a bag of popcorn into the microwave, the scent of buttery goodness soon filling the air. you moved effortlessly, rifling through netflix’s horror category, your face illuminated by the screen's eerie glow. the flickering light danced across your features, highlighting your concentration as you searched for the perfect scare to accompany your night.

his anticipation tightens the air, but you don’t even glance at your phone when it buzzes. the silence on your end feels louder than it should, and baekhyun’s jaw clenches. a low, guttural frustration threatens to escape his throat, his grip on the knife at his side growing dangerously tense. he draws in a deep breath, the cool metal pressing against his palm. stay calm, he tells himself. his pulse thrums in his ears as he gives you one more chance.

the microwave chimes, a cheerful reminder that your popcorn is ready. you open the door, the warm, buttery aroma spilling out like a cozy embrace, wrapping around you as you pour the fluffy kernels into a bowl. your gaze shifts to the phone screen—an unknown number flashes, irritation simmering just beneath the surface. "oh, fuck me," you mutter under your breath, barely loud enough to be heard. one of the kids must have left a toy behind again, refusing to sleep without it. you sigh at the thought, exasperation bubbling up as you reach for the phone, its persistent ringing cutting through the quiet.

"hello?" you answer, forcing a brighter tone, only to be met with silence—except for the faint, unsettling sound of heavy breathing on the other end. you have no idea that the caller is watching you through his window, eyes locked on your every move, his breath ragged as his hand strokes himself, utterly fixated on the sight of you.

you don’t let them get a word in. “go bother someone else, you freak,” you snap, cutting them off as you toss your phone onto the kitchen island with a frustrated clatter. leaning over the counter, you absentmindedly crunch popcorn between your teeth, your thoughts drifting. after hours of looking after a group of loud, sugar-fueled brats—who were mostly well-behaved—the last thing you need is some creep making prank calls.

when the phone rings again, a surge of frustration rises. you snatch it up, already preparing to unload a string of curses. but the words die on your lips the moment you hear the low, menacing voice on the other end. it snakes through the receiver, making your stomach drop. 

"you’ll be fucking sorry if ya do that again, sweetheart."

a sharp thud strikes the side of your house, the sound unsettling in the stillness of the night. your breath hitches, pulse racing. just a cat, you tell yourself, forcing down the panic that claws at your chest. you pull the phone from your ear, fingers trembling as you hover over the screen, daring yourself to hang up. you could call 911 in seconds. so fast. 

"don't test me." the voice on the other end, deep and edged with malice, seeps into your veins, freezing you in place. "or i'll have to come in there... and make you regret it." 

your throat tightens. compliance feels like your only option.

your mind is spinning with confusion, thoughts crashing into each other. are you really thinking about provoking this mystery guy, just out of curiosity? you've seen enough horror movies to know the warning: get too close, and you could end up cut to pieces the second he walks through your door.

“what do you want?” you manage to ask, your voice quivering like a fragile leaf in the wind, much to baekhyun’s delight. a smirk dances on his lips as he leans closer, tempted to retract his earlier words. the urge to break in and claim you overwhelms him, a primal instinct igniting within. the way you nervously bite your bottom lip and toy with the hem of your shirt suggests a part of you wouldn’t entirely mind if he did. he can sense it—the shiver in your breath, the heat rising in your cheeks—as if his voice alone is enchanting, stirring an undeniable desire deep within you.

the quiver in your voice sends a thrill through him, a captivating note of fear he savors like fine wine. “no need to be frightened, princess. don’t let those tears spill just yet,” baekhyun teases, his gaze piercing and calculating as he studies your every reaction. “just follow my lead, and i promise, nothing terrible will happen to you.” 

before you can form the words to question his intentions, he leans closer, a predatory glint in his eyes. “now, i want you to put on a little show for me. undress.” 

the thought of performing a sultry striptease for a mysterious, menacing stranger sends a thrilling jolt through you, awakening a passionate fire deep within. yet, it’s the image of your nosy neighbors catching even the slightest glimpse of the entire spectacle that truly makes your heart race, heat pooling low in your core. especially your irresistibly handsome psychologist neighbor—the one who sent your heart into a flurry the day he delivered your mail. the one who makes you blush every time you exchange a casual wave while jogging through the neighborhood, your pulse quickening at the mere sight of him. the one who occupies your thoughts late at night, a persistent whisper in your mind as you find yourself lost in fantasies, touching yourself in the shower, on the bed, and even on the couch. 

baekhyun, oblivious to this electric twist of your fantasy, doesn’t realize he wouldn’t need to intimidate you to stir this desire. just the thought of it has you growing increasingly wet, a delicious tension building with every pulse of anticipation. with a breathless flutter in your chest, you pull the phone away from your face, switching it to speaker mode to free your hands, your mind swirling with the provocative images dancing just beneath the surface.

“if you hang up on me again, i’m coming in, baby,” baekhyun purred, a playful smirk dancing on his lips as his gaze roamed hungrily over you. your heart raced as you slowly grabbed the bottom of your shirt and puling it over your head, revealing the smooth skin beneath, the absence of a bra heightening the tension in the air. the soft fabric slipped from your fingers, pooling on the hardwood floor like a forgotten memory.

“that’s right, angel. show me how soft those beautiful tits are,” you eagerly comply with his instructions, surrendering to the bewitching demands of the distorted voice on the line. your fingers find the hardened buds, pinching and teasing them, drawing out a moan that escapes your lips like a whispered secret. every touch is a spark of pleasure, a sweet indulgence for the faceless stranger lurking at the other end of the call.

baekhyun hums, the sound low and approving, sending a shiver straight through you. your mind races, painting vivid scenes of him pleasuring himself, every motion playing out in your head. "are you getting wet?" he asks, his voice thick with confidence and desire, completely unashamed.

“mhm,” you moan, the sound spilling from your mouth before you even realize it, your fingers swirling around the sensitive buds, lost in a haze of pleasure and anticipation.

“show me.” his voice drips with urgency, each demand more fervent than the last. your breaths come in shallow gasps, the heat of the moment thickening the air around you. you can almost envision him behind the glass, furiously pleasuring himself, absorbed by your every movement. a pang of desire surges within you as you long for him to emerge from the shadows, to reveal the beautiful mess he’s making of himself—flesh against flesh, desire laid bare.

“what's on your mind, princess?” baekhyun’s voice pierces the intoxicating silence, and you realize you’ve been lost in your thoughts, eyes tightly shut against the overwhelming sensation coursing through you. you feel a tingle ripple across your body, heat blooming in various spots as you instinctively begin to explore the terrain of your own desire, your fingers tracing the curves and dips that make you ache for him even more.

"how i love being bossed around like this." the words slip from your lips, dripping with a shameless allure, and the thrill of your own audacity leaves you breathless, too intoxicated to feel regret. a lush moan escapes as your fingers wander, seeking the neglected warmth between your legs, the rough fabric of your denim teasingly obstructing your touch. 

baekhyun’s eyes widen, a quiet laugh almost slipping out at how bold you’ve become. aren’t you an easy little thing? how fast did he get this unfiltered side of you to show—five, maybe six minutes? you moan softly in his ear as you find the perfect angle to touch yourself, waves of pleasure rippling through you. “oh, god,” you gasp, your voice shaky and soft. his breathing picks up, more frantic now, as he watches your every move.

“show me,” he murmurs, his voice a low, teasing whisper that cuts through the stillness of the night. “spread your legs in front of the window, let me watch you.” 

to his surprise, your anticipation matches his own. you lean back, pressing your spine against the side of the couch, ensuring your silhouette is perfectly framed for his hungry gaze. 

he watches closely, his breath catching as you slip out of your shorts, the fabric gliding down your legs. you obey his command eagerly, spreading your legs the moment you're free, revealing yourself to him. the air feels electric, every move adding to the tension between you, pulling him in like a magnetic force of pure desire.

baekhyun’s tongue glides over his lips, drawn to the enticing glimmer that dances on your most intimate folds. “touch yourself,” he commands, urging you to imitate him. you find yourself in the cozy confines of your living room, curtains drawn wide open, exposing you to the well-lit street where the remnants of the halloween night linger. it's well past midnight; the trick-or-treaters have long retreated to their homes. the thought of being caught sends a thrill through both your bodies, a delicious shiver that only heightens the atmosphere.

your fingers glide over your throbbing nub, a sense of urgency building within you as you quicken your pace. baekhyun’s voice breaks through the haze, showering you with praise that excites your desire even further, pushing you to explore your body with passion under his lustful gaze.

“that’s right, baby,” baekhyun murmurs, his voice a sultry whisper that sparks a flame deep within you, sending shivers straight to your throbbing core. his pet names wrap around you like a velvet ribbon and you can’t get enough of it. “ya look so sexy, playing with your pretty pussy for me, princess. she’s drenched for me—so fucking soaked, just from the sound of my voice. you’re leaking onto those floors, all for me, aren’t you?”

he huffs into the phone, the breathless sound thick with need, feeling himself teetering on the edge of bliss. baekhyun fights the urge to shut his eyes, longing to immerse himself in the sensations you’re creating, but he can’t bear to miss a single moment of your tantalizing display. instead, he leans into his words, weaving a web of longing to stave off the impending climax, each syllable dripping with desire.

you’re caught in a fit of sobs and whimpers, completely unable to rein in your emotions. unconsciously, you part your legs as wide as they can go, igniting a delicious burn in your thighs that only heightens your desperation. “you don’t feel embarrassed? hah. playing with yourself like this for a stranger?” his words, juvenile and taunting, only fuel your growing need. you swallow back a sharp retort, wary of the consequences of your attitude. instead, your fingers continue their relentless assault on your clit, a forbidden pleasure that leaves you breathless and craving more.

“i-i wouldn’t usually—hnnnghh” your words falter, swallowed by a breathy moan that escapes your lips, the rest of your sentence fading into oblivion. desire surges through you as you feel yourself teetering on the precipice of pleasure, mirroring his own urgency. in that moment, the conversation drifts away, leaving only the sweet sound of your shared, exasperated moans hanging in the air, a testament to the intoxicating connection between you. “but how could i resist? i like you telling me what to do. mmm, and i bet your real voice sounds even sexier.”

baekhyun grunts, his breath hitching as he grips himself, thumb gliding over the sensitive slit and spreading precum across the flushed tip. “don’t worry. you’ll find out soon enough, i promise,” he rasps, his voice low and rough like gravel. you can feel the urgency in his movements, hear the slick sound of his hand moving faster, and even though you haven’t seen his face, the vivid image of his throbbing cock, his eyes fixed on your trembling, bare body, consumes you. your vision fades to white, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you as you give in to the pleasure, squirting onto the window and leaving shiny streaks behind.

baekhyuns groans in your ear, his voice dripping with reckless abandon, echoing through the stillness of the night. he’s completely devoid of class, his primal instincts overpowering any sense of decorum. as he reaches his peak, he releases himself with a fervor that sends a cascade of warmth spilling across the window of his office, just as you did. 

breathless, he watches you through a haze of lust, his eyes heavy-lidded yet filled with a playful intensity. you bite your lip, a gesture that betrays your yearning for more, your body aching for repeated waves of ecstasy. is it possible you don't want this night to slip away into oblivion? 

“huh. i didn’t think i could do that,” you think outloud watching your juices slowly drip down the window.

“i bet ya could do it again. how ‘bout we use my fingers this time? if you’re a good girl maybe i’ll use my mouth, too.” he teases, a mischievous smirk dancing on his lips. you can't help but shake your head and roll your eyes at the audacity of this mystery man on your phone.

“awwww, why not?” he whines, his tone dripping with mock disappointment. “don’t ya trust me?” his teasing banter lingers in the air, crackling with unspoken desires, making you feel breathless with anticipation.

you can’t quite wrap your mind around how he can ask you a question like that, as if the two of you aren’t complete strangers. it’s as if the memory of his earlier threats has been wiped clean, leaving only the enticing edge of his voice in its place. some twisted part of you takes the reins, shoving your common sense aside. “i’ll treat ya right,” he promises, his tone smooth like velvet. 

your eyes drop, embarrassment flooding through you as you notice the wetness he's drawn out of you with nothing more than his voice. a tightness forms in your chest, the fear of feeling foolish creeping in, but your arousal only grows, pushing aside any doubt. the tingling in your clit fades, shifting into a steady, throbbing rhythm—an unspoken invitation.

baekhyun watches with a teasing spark in his eyes as your shaky legs carry you toward the front door. in no time, he’s outside, making his way to you. he hears the soft clatter of you fumbling with the lock, and when it clicks open, it feels like an unspoken invitation for him to step inside. the tension between you hums, daring him to close the gap and take control, face to face. the air crackles with the thrill of giving in, charged with a magnetic pull that’s impossible to resist.

you fling the door open, and there he is—a tall figure standing silently in a ghostface costume. your eyes trail over him in confusion, pausing when they land on his shoes. you know those sneakers. the kind hypebeasts chase after, selling for a fortune after retail. only one person on this block would own them. only one.

and you’re sure you saw him earlier today through that very window your orgasm stains, wearing those exact shoes, hauling bags of groceries into his house.

“baekhyun?” you breathe, suddenly feeling small. a flutter of butterflies coursing through your stomach as your gaze lands on his right hand, gripping his phone. your number is glaringly lit on the screen.

“trick or treat?” his voice dances like a playful tune behind the mask, a teasing reminder of the pleasure he just gave you. he slowly lifts the mask from his face, letting it rest atop his head, revealing a smile so radiant it could light up the empire state building. the smile feels oddly out of place, totally clashing with the filthy phone call you just shared—a side you'd never expect from a psychologist.

and then it hits you—you don’t truly know him. you have no idea that, when you're not around, he slips the spare key hidden under the rock in your front yard and lets himself into your home. you’re oblivious to him wandering through your space, climbing the stairs to your bedroom, rifling through your drawers, trying to piece together the mystery of who you are. he’s desperate to learn you in ways your belongings might reveal.

you’d never guess that while you’re out early in the morning, heading to the bakery before dawn, he’s inside, using that same key. one hand is wrapped fisting himself while the other clutches your worn underwear, pressed against his nose, inhaling your scent like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.

you remain completely unaware of it all. as his eyes lock onto yours, heat rushes to your cheeks, creeping up the back of your neck. 

you end the call, watching his screen fade to black, the sudden silence feeling heavier than it should.

wait, when did you give him your number? 

a shiver runs down your spine, an uneasy tension settling in. you try to push it away, but the feeling lingers like a whisper in your mind, urging you to stay on guard. you shake your head, convincing yourself you’re overreacting. it’s a small town; everyone knows each other. he must have gotten your number from someone else. or did you give it to him when you first met? maybe he found it on your bakery's instagram. yup, that has to be it.

feeling a surge of reassurance, you smile back at him. “i didn’t know psychologists enjoyed dressing up for halloween and playing pranks. i always thought doctors were above that,” you tease, your heart racing as he gazes down at you, a predatory glint in his eyes, as if he’s about to destroy you in the most tempting way imaginable.

“there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he replies, stepping confidently into your home and locking the door behind him. his voice is low and inviting. “why don’t i show you?”

he slides the ghostface mask back on, the sinister smile of the mask contrasting with the anticipation in the air. he steps closer, backing you into the living room, his hands slide to your waist, his thumbs drawing soft circles on your sides, sending a rush through your body. you can feel your heart pounding, the air between you buzzing with tension. you bite your lower lip, trying to hide a smile, but the excitement overflows, slipping out as a playful grin.

"you can do whatever you want with me," your voice low and dripping with promise as you guide him toward the couch. the low hum of tension crackles in the air as you straddle him, sinking onto his lap. the air is thick with tension as you settle onto his lap, straddling him. the moment your thighs meet his, you feel his hardened length pressing against your skin, lighting a surge of heat that races straight to your core. his hands glide up the smooth skin of your thighs until they reach your ass, where he cups you firmly, squeezing gently. your breath hitches, the sensation flooding you with anticipation as your body responds to the undeniable pull between you two. the sensation stirs something deep within, wetness pooling between your legs.

"but please, don’t kill me, mr. ghostface..." you whisper softly, your warm breath brushing against his neck, your lips almost touching his skin. you glide them upward, the gentle, teasing contact sending shivers of excitement between you. when you reach the curve of his ear, you linger just long enough to spark an irresistible shiver through him. “i wanna be in the sequel.”

 ੈ✩‧₊ a/n: thank u to this anon for the idea!!! i didn't think i would ever write something like this, but here we are. #neversaynever i guess. oh, and a happy halloweenie to those who celebrate!!!!! <3 what are you dressing up as? stay safe my precious babies love u lotz mwah

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 .