#yeah i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again

[peppymintdreams]

desperately need a fic of pickle who hasnt been sleeping for a while and isaac notices

Ofcourse my child

Insomnia Who?

Isaac Rhoades x Pickle

Pickle has been really sleep deprived and who better than Isaac the insomniac pot calling the kettle black

Isaac sat at his desk, eyes scanning over the case files spread out before him, but his focus kept drifting. Across the room, Pickle was curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, their face illuminated by the soft glow of a tablet. Isaac had noticed something over the past few days—small things at first, barely perceptible, but now impossible to ignore.

Pickle was exhausted.

At first, Isaac had chalked it up to stress or a busy week, but now he could see it in the way they moved—sluggish, as though the weight of sleepless nights was dragging them down. Dark circles had begun to form under their eyes, and even now, as they sat with the tablet in hand, their head kept nodding forward, as if their body was on the verge of surrendering to sleep, but they just wouldn’t let it.

Isaac closed his file and set it aside, his gaze fixed on them. "Pickle," he called softly, breaking the silence of the room.

Pickle blinked, lifting their head as if they had just been caught drifting off. "Huh? Yeah?" they mumbled, sitting up a bit straighter, clearly trying to seem more alert than they actually were.

Isaac frowned, his brows knitting together. "How long has it been since you’ve had a good night’s sleep?"

Pickle waved a hand dismissively, though their expression didn’t match their nonchalance. "I’m fine. Just a little tired, that’s all."

Isaac wasn’t buying it. He stood up, crossing the room and sitting beside them on the couch. "A little tired?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow. "You’ve been like this for days. When’s the last time you slept properly?"

Pickle hesitated, their eyes darting away as they pulled the blanket tighter around themselves. "I don’t know... a few nights ago? I’ve just been... restless. It’s no big deal."

Isaac sighed, his hand finding Pickle’s and giving it a gentle squeeze. "It’s a big deal if you’re not taking care of yourself," he said, his tone soft but firm. "You’re running yourself into the ground, and I’m worried about you."

Pickle bit their lip, their shoulders slumping as they leaned back into the couch. "I don’t know why I can’t sleep," they admitted, voice small. "Every time I try, my mind just keeps racing. I keep thinking about everything I need to do, or everything I should’ve done, and then suddenly it’s morning, and I haven’t slept at all."

Isaac’s expression softened as he listened. He knew that feeling all too well—the weight of responsibilities and endless thoughts keeping you awake at night, despite your body begging for rest. "Why didn’t you tell me?" he asked gently. "You don’t have to go through this alone."

Pickle sighed, leaning their head against his shoulder. "I didn’t want to bother you. You’ve been so busy with work, and I didn’t want to make a fuss over something like this."

Isaac wrapped an arm around them, pulling them closer. "You’re not a bother," he murmured. "You never are."

They sat there in comfortable silence for a few moments, the warmth of Isaac’s embrace easing some of the tension from Pickle’s body. Finally, Isaac spoke again, his voice quiet but resolute. "You need sleep, Pickle. You can’t keep going like this."

"I know," Pickle mumbled, their eyes fluttering shut against Isaac’s shoulder. "But I don’t know how to stop all the thoughts."

Isaac pressed a soft kiss to the top of their head, his hand gently rubbing their arm. "Let me help," he said. "I’ll stay with you, okay? You’re not alone in this. We’ll get through it together."

Pickle didn’t say anything, but Isaac could feel them relax slightly against him. After a few more minutes of silence, Isaac shifted, pulling back just enough to look them in the eye. "Come on," he said, his voice gentle but leaving no room for argument. "We’re going to bed. No more tablet, no more distractions. Just rest."

Pickle opened their mouth to protest, but Isaac shook his head. "No arguments," he said with a soft smile. "I’m your personal sleep enforcer tonight."

Despite their exhaustion, Pickle chuckled at that, a small, tired laugh that made Isaac’s heart ache for them. "Fine, fine," they relented, letting him guide them up from the couch.

Isaac led them to the bedroom, making sure the space was calm and comfortable. He turned off the overhead light, leaving only the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Pickle climbed into bed, and Isaac joined them, pulling the covers up over both of them.

He wrapped an arm around them, pulling them close, their head resting on his chest. "Just focus on my breathing," Isaac murmured softly. "Let your mind relax. You’re safe, you’re here, and nothing else matters right now."

Pickle let out a deep sigh, their body sinking into the mattress as they finally began to let go of the tension that had been holding them captive for days. Isaac continued to hold them, his hand gently stroking their back in soothing circles, his own heartbeat steady beneath their ear.

Slowly but surely, Pickle’s breathing evened out, and before long, the exhaustion they had been fighting off for so long finally overtook them.

Isaac stayed awake a little longer, just watching over them, relieved to see them finally resting. He pressed another soft kiss to their forehead, whispering, "Sleep well," before closing his own eyes and letting sleep take him too.

[gothamite-rambler]

Batfamily Mitzvah: Bruce tried to make sure Selina never learned about cousin Linda

Context: As the family birthday gathering approaches—an event they can hardly stand—Kate discovers some new information about the bar mitzvah. Specifically, she learns that it's called a bar mitzvah for boys. With this fresh insight, she decides to make a surprise visit to share the news with her favorite cousin, Bruce Wayne… right in the middle of his date with Selina Kyle. Isn’t she thoughtful?

Kate strolled past the tables of a high-end restaurant, catching the attention of a few patrons who raised their eyebrows at her disheveled appearance. As she reached Bruce's table, she slapped her hand down dramatically on the surface to announce her arrival.

Kate: Bruce, have you—

Bruce: How were you able to enter this place? That's not an insult about your appearance; you already know how I feel about that. They won't allow people in unless they pay an entrance fee.

Kate (raised an eyebrow): Oh, like Golden Corral?

Bruce (frustrated): You know that's not the same.

Kate chuckled, snatching a piece of broccoli from his plate and quickly popping it into her mouth before Bruce could grab her hand.

Kate: I'm just messing with you. I told the guy at the front that I was your jilted mistress and that I'd stab him if he tried to stop me from confronting you.

She gestured toward the nervous reservation man, who trembled slightly and quickly raised his menu to hide his face as Kate waved. Bruce sighed, burying his face in his hands.

Selina (taking a sip of her wine): So I'm not the other woman? Nice.

Kate: Love your dress, Selina. You dumping him soon?

Selina laughed, shaking her head with a hint of bemusement.

Selina: You're not my type.

Kate (pointing to Bruce): He is?

Bruce (impatient): Hey, why are you really here? To embarrass me? Because it's not going to work this time.

Kate: I’ll just have to try harder then. Anyway, I messed up a few details about our cousin Linda's grandson's Bar Mitzvah. First, I got the name wrong; apparently, the girls have a Bat Mitzvah. Why didn't you tell me that?

Bruce: You mocked me for not knowing I’m Jewish, which was a mistake that can happen to anyone who watched their parents die in an alley.

Kate: I should have a jar for the times you use your orphan status as a get-out-of-jail-free card. A dollar every time it's used.

Selina (joking): You'd need more than one jar.

Bruce gave Selina a look of betrayal at her comments about him. Selina smiled, sipping from her wine glass.

Selina: I say that not to be mean, Brucie. It's just that sometimes you overuse it. Like avoiding a paintball event at your job because 'my parents were shot in an alleyway.'

Kate: Or when you ducked out of a wedding because you said it reminded you of 'Mom and Dad getting married.' You weren't even a thought when they got married.

Bruce (bending his fork): Kate, you skipped out on that wedding too!

Kate: Yeah, but I’m awesome and don’t need an excuse. I just said I wasn't going because Cousin Marty sucks and has been married nine times, and that bride number ten isn’t 'the one.'

Selina: How long did they last?

Kate: He's married to bride number twelve now. I’ve stopped bothering to learn their names, right, Bruce?

Bruce had his face covered again as Kate playfully slapped her hand against his back.

Bruce: Please circle back to the details about the Bar Mitzvah so you can leave.

Kate snapped her fingers, remembering why she originally made this visit.

Kate: I forgot the name of the synagogue, but I wrote down the directions. The party afterward is at The Grand Oak Banquet Hall, where Beth and I had our Bat Mitzvah—I got it right this time.

Kate slapped Bruce on the arm again while chuckling. Selina covered her mouth with her cloth napkin, nodding in agreement with a smile.

Kate: Linda is apparently going all out for this, and while I hate her so much, it's best we’re on our best behavior. She might put us in the will.

Bruce: I'm good.

Selina (interjecting): Linda was the one who stabbed her husband with a poker from the fireplace?

Kate: No, that was our great-aunt Susanna. Linda was the one who hit her husband with a car.

Selina (correctly guessing): After he slept with her sister, they stayed together not because they believed in marriage, but because that sister later died in a hospital fire.

Kate: That's the one! Damn, you remembered the fire too? Wow, cuzzo, you’ve got a great listener here.

Selina (pointing her thumb at Bruce): I've had decades of practice with this guy.

Bruce muttered curse words under his breath, still trying to comprehend how this was all happening during his date with Selina.

Bruce (muffled): Don't forget the part where you said you'd do the same to me after I told you the story.

Selina: I said it was on a list if you ever betrayed me.

Kate: Hot, smart, and vengeful. I can see why he loves you.

Selina: Aww, thanks.

Bruce (raising his voice): Can you just tell me why you’re here?!

Nearby patrons stared at the trio perplexed causing Bruce to blush with embarrassment. Kate smirked, pleased by his discomfort.

Kate: Right, so the Bar—not Bat—Mitzvah is going to be at that event hall at four in the afternoon, but we can be twenty or thirty minutes late. It gives us time to grab a few drinks at the bar next to the hall. I'm a regular there because of these events.

Bruce (lamenting): I hope they have strong drinks.

Kate (relating): Oh, they do. It's formal, and the color Linda picked is all shades of blue. Her son and his wife apparently have no say in the matter.

Selina (surprised): Oh wow. Wait, is it connected to an inheritance or will?

Kate (nodding): Yeah, she’s crazy but rich as hell. Like as rich as him.

Kate pointed to a mortified Bruce, who stared at his plate of steak, zoning out of the conversation, prompting Kate to flick him on the ear to get his attention.

Kate: As I was saying, she demanded blue everything because—

Kate cleared her throat.

Kate (hoity-toity New Yorker accent): "He's a boy, and boys love blue, and I'm payin' for it."

Bruce rubbed the temple of his forehead at how accurately Kate imitated their cousin. Selina listened with enjoyment, not touching her plate of salmon.

Kate: I'm thinking we could wear blue suits, but the shades need to be different because we aren’t matching. All right, Bruce? Bruce?

Selina (playfully hitting Bruce on the arm): Make sure your shade of blue doesn’t match hers.

Bruce rolled his eyes.

Bruce: Got it. Why aren’t you wearing a dress again, Kate? Worried it’ll look ridiculous on you?

Kate: I know I can rock a blue dress; I have in the past. But this is a protest so that Linda knows I’m into women and won’t try to set me up with her friend from church who totally can "change my mind about being a lesbian." I’ll wear combat boots and get a buzz cut until she sees and tolerates it. I’ve accepted that I’m never going to get to acceptance.

Kate chuckled at her own joke.

Selina (agreeing): I swear, my mother was the exact same way. I totally get wearing the suit.

Kate: Thank you, cousin-in-law. Hey, Bruce, I’m starving; I didn’t stop for food before making this important visit. I’m just going to do this real quick.

Kate took the knife next to Bruce’s plate and sliced a small piece of steak, chewing it for a few seconds while nodding.

Kate: Medium rare, good pick.

Bruce: Yeah, I was enjoying it too. Let me see if I got everything: You got the address to the synagogue, it’s at the banquet hall that side of the family has used since I was a child, Linda is insane but we have to behave so you can get her beach house in the will, the formal color for the event is blue because she’s crazy, and you want me to wear a darker shade of blue for my suit. Did I miss anything?

Kate: Bingo you got it all correct! And Lenny will be there; he got released from Oaks Asylum, and he’s going strong on being a vocal Batman truther. He hasn’t let up about that.

Selina (confused): Batman truther?

Bruce (exhausted): They think Batman is a mythical entity, which is why he always lurks in the night. They don’t consider that more crimes happen at night—nope, he's a cryptid. I stopped enjoying the rumor when it spiraled into other nonsensical conspiracy theories.

Kate quickly swiped a slice of potato from Bruce’s plate before he could react. He huffed in annoyance but reminded himself to stay calm since they were in a public restaurant.

Kate: To be fair, the guy wears a bat suit.

Selina giggled, enjoying the exchange as she sipped her wine.

Bruce: It’s not funny; he won't shut up about it. And you’re not one to talk, Kate.

Kate: Don’t be jelly; Batwoman looks better than you.

Bruce: Selina, am I actually unconscious in a hospital right now?

Selina (shaking her head): Sorry, this is real.

Kate (mocking her cousin): He’s upset I interrupted your date, like you won’t be having sex later.

Bruce groaned, tapping his fingers on the table as he desperately wished for Kate to leave.

Selina: She's not wrong, but Bruce, you've held off on asking if I want to attend this Bar Mitzvah.

Bruce: It’s better for your sanity if you don’t meet them.

Kate: Oh, come on, Bruce; she’s used to the crazier aspects of your life. She should come with us. The more the merrier… and Linda not talking to me. Fair warning, though: She likes to be called Aunt Linda by everyone except her kids, and she will ask you a ton of evasive questions about your criminal past. It's a good laugh once you realize she's batshit insane.

Selina: I've dealt with intense interrogations and my own insane family reunions. I don't mind—

Bruce (interrupting, at his limit): No, no, you are not coming. I'm doing this to protect you—

Kate (correcting): He's worried they'll embarrass him in front of you.

Bruce (pointing to the way she came in): Kate, leave! Thanks for the info, but leave now or I will have security drag you out of here.

Kate: I think I successfully embarrassed you enough, and you’re welcome. Just remember, in two weeks, we’re going to the synagogue. I know churches scare you because you’re a baby, but at least try to step foot in this one.

Bruce blinked with suppressed frustration, choosing not to reply.

Selina: That means he’ll do it.

Kate: Good, now you’re not eating that steak, and I’m still starving, so I’ll take this off your hands.

Kate quickly grabbed the plate that Bruce was still prodding at, earning a fierce glare from him. He resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't be getting that plate back.

Kate: Oh, and this—

With a swift motion, she slapped her cousin across the face with enough force that he fell to the ground.

Bruce (high-pitched): WHY?!

Kate: I LOVED YOU, YOU BASTARD! YOU CAN HAVE HIM; HE'S BROUGHT ME NOTHING BUT GRIEF!

Selina (playing along): Yes, get out of here; he’s mine!

Kate: Good riddance.

Dramatically, Kate stormed out as Bruce recovered, sinking back into his chair while rubbing the stinging side of his face. The surrounding patrons looked on with mixed reactions—some were shocked, some disgusted by Bruce Wayne being a cheater, and two old men nodded in approval.

Selina: She is such a delight.

Bruce groaned, annoyed that he lost his meal and looked like a fool.

Bruce: She took my steak! Dang it.

Selina (sliding her plate over): Want my salmon? I'm full.

Bruce: I appreciate that; thank you. I can't believe I'm going to have to be around Linda, Lenny, and all of them. Selina, if you truly love me, please don't go.

Selina: I have insane family; I get it and won't go, but if you change your mind, I have a dress that's perfect for parties like this.

Bruce: Thank you, and I'll consider that, but for right now, let’s enjoy this date.

Selina nodded.

Selina (jokingly): You think people here will figure out she was your cousin?

Bruce closed his eyes and held his head down, sighing at that realization.

Bruce: I'm going to get her back for that.

1st part -> Batfamily Mitzvah

[arkhamabyssfiles]

Loading FILE...RED_HOOD_MEMORY_12 ALFRED PENNYWORTH: AGE, 59 HELENA WAYNE: AGE, 16 JASON TODD: AGE, 17

“You can’t escape Gotham’s gravity, boy.” A hand half discomposed clutched at his ankle and started pulling him into the earth. Jason looked down and from the dirt emerged two faces, one had half of it falling off and showing a white skull with centipedes crawling over it, and the other had its jaw missing and no eyes. But he could recognize them easily enough. Janet and Willis.

“You pushed us down to try and escape it. But it wasn’t enough—it will pull you in as well—”

More hands kept appearing from the dirt and pulling him deeper and deeper in. He still couldn’t move, couldn’t scream. 

Help! Help! Batman! Bruce! Anyone!

Jason snapped his eyes open and violently grasped the wrist of the hand reaching for his face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you—”

Jason breathed out and released Helena’s wrist. He didn’t say anything, not wishing to speak in the least.

“Alfred told me not to bother you…but I just wanted to see you to reassure myself…sorry.”

She didn’t ask him if he was fine. He appreciated it.

“Uhm…I’ll leave now…unless you want me to fetch you something?”

Jason shook his head slowly. But before she could get out of his reach he grasped at her wrist again. Helena looked at him expectantly, but again he didn’t say anything.

“Do you…want me to stay for a while?” She asked quietly.

He gave a short nod. First, Helena turned and opened the chest at the foot of his bed and pulled a thick blanket from it, then climbed on the bed and occupied the empty side of the bed.

“This old house always manages to get cold at night,” She grumbled, then reached for his right hand, she winced. “Your hands are cold! But they usually are…” She was talking more to herself now than to him, but that was fine for Jason. He just wanted to listen to someone talk. Helena pulled up his hand to her face and enveloped it between hers, blew some warm breath then rubbed it then put it against her cheek. It was soft and warm.

His left hand was still cold…and so were his feet…Jason turned on his side to face Helena and she took his other hand and placed it on her other cheek. His lips moved an inch upwards. Now he started feeling truly warm and the last cold of the night was finally leaving him. After some time he took his hands away from her face, but Helena didn’t let go of them, she tucked them against her neck and pulled the blanket close around them.

“Have you been gassed?” He asked quietly, raspy.

“Can’t say I have…but I’ve heard it sucks.”

Jason breathed a short laugh, “Yeah. It sucks.”

“But it’s fine now. Nothing will get you here and now while you’re with me.”

“That’s pretty bold to say, Princess.”

“I have a big bad bat and a British Butler to back me up, I think I’m fine.”

“So you won’t let the buggy man get to me, huh?”

“No. I promise. Go to sleep, Jason. I’ll watch over your sleep.”

“Ten to one… you’ll just fall…asleep right…away…”

Helena said something about that, but he was already too close to sleep to understand it.

…

Waking up against a warmness that wasn’t his own and a faint sweet smell of lavender was something so alien to Jason that he was sure he still was half asleep. He buried his face deeper into the warm pillow—

Pillows don’t breathe, nor do they have bones. Jason frowned and pushed slightly away from the nice-smelling pillow, he cracked one eye open and then froze.

Fuuuuuuuuck. No fucking way. What—? Oh… right. Fuuuuuuck. Where did I have my face just now?

He took his arm away from Helena’s waist with robotic smoothness then rolled slowly onto his back and looked into the ceiling as he felt his face heating up gradually, then he covered his face with his arm and avoided uttering the slightest of anguished noises that wanted to escape his throat. At least, she wasn’t waking up by the looks… Jason had noticed before that she slept like a damned log—a soft, warm, and nice—

No! Nope! I’m not thinking that.

Jason climbed out of the bed in a rush and out of his room. His heartbeat was a little off. He needed some water and fresh air. Yes, after that he’d be fine.

“Jason! My boy, are you alright?” Alfred’s voice made him jump.

“Yeah!” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat, “Yes! I’m—uh—I’m good.”

“The Fear Gas effects most have passed already, but if you’re—”

“The gas? Right. No. I’m good now. Really. Just—a little…weary—” His stomach suddenly growled– “and hungry.”

“Ah. Of course. Let’s go downstairs and I’ll prepare something for you.”

“I—Eh, yes. Thank you.”

“Was Helena still asleep?”

That almost made him roll down the stairs. “Uh—ah—yes…?”

“I told her not to bother you yesterday, but she sneaked in while I was helping Master Bruce…and he didn’t have the heart to take her away.”

Jason breathed out long and slow, “Fuck.”

“No cursing young man!”

“Sorry.”

END OF MEMORY... For more FILES check previous entries...

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

you just know there’s some elven supremacist assholes out there who think the problem with the third kinslaying is that the fëanorians killed Elves, Specifically, and if they’d massacred a human refugee camp for the silmaril it wouldn’t even be worth remarking on

[jimmyspades]

you could watch..

[zorosdimples]

if yuuji survives jjk, my heart breaks to think about the immense amount of survivor’s guilt he will carry with him for the rest of his life.

[dreamings-free]

Shitty press as usual from the daily mail and daily telegraph sigh. At least the headlines. Didn't bother reading any further.

well they’re tabloids and that’s what tabloids do I don’t know how this fandom still after all these years expect anything else from those trash rags ?!!

and yea good don’t read it. because every time you do every click every engagement gives money to these vultures so they can keep writing their hateful racist xenophobic anti-social sensationalist bullsh*t. tabloids are not just harmless gossip rags writing shit about your fave celebs they are trash that influence politics that enable things like brexit anti-immigration and hate against muslims. and when you give them ad revenue you help further their damaging agenda.

every time I see someone on here the post a link to the sun I wanna pull my hair out.

[driftingballoons]

What do you think about the theory that wigglytuff deliberately plays up the goofiness to get people to underestimate him?

He strikes me as being genuinely silly and fun-loving when he’s around the other guild members (i.e. his friends)—I think that’s just the kind of guy he is. But the moment he senses something’s off, he’s not afraid to put on his serious face. As to whether he does it to make others underestimate him…I can definitely see some stock in that theory! Under all that…wigglytuffness, he does seem quite intelligent and strategic. I could see him thinking there’s value in being underestimated—when he approaches everyone with a friendly face and open arms, it would give him time to figure out who’s truly a friend and who’s not (looking at you Team Skull). Plus, I think it would fit with his overall theme. Between the pink squishy exterior and big googly eyes, he doesn’t really look as impressive or intimidating as the other “great” explorers. By presenting himself as less of a threat than he really is, others would be more inclined to let their guard down—and if they have any ill-will, they’d definitely be more likely to slip up around him. But, after all that, I can imagine he’d also want to work out any differences and try to make friends, whether the other party feels inclined to or not :)

[hollywoodsargeant]

SO much to say about this and I had to run here for emotional support because ARMS JAW ufffff give me ten minutes with him or just like one bite

HE IS SOOOOO i agree his arms his jaw his everything i need to bite him so bad. let me at his neck. i can also. bite his arm. that was supposed to go in liminal space but i think i forgot to include that??? know there’s a secret director’s cut in my head where oscar bites the fuck out of logan’s bicep. because Same.

[starbuck]

when they’re divorced 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 and they don’t like each other at all 😍😍😍😍😍 like they legitimately aren’t even that invested in each other 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

[voltrons]

i have watched a wild amount of moomin in the past five days and to be honest it’s really the glue that’s holding me together

[steviescrystals]

i’m fr gonna lose my mind :)

[sassmill]

Thinkin’ about scrapple again lads

[designernishiki]

in a couple months im gonna be asked what I did over the summer and I’m just gonna sit there unresponsive because I don’t want to admit to playing between 250-300 hours of yakuza 0

[fruit-colored-ninja]

Listen I’m sorry but I refuse to believe that the reason cole couldn’t see his reflection was because he’s going to die young. If you guys want to do that you can but I won’t be participating he lives a long and happy life and dies when he’s old and wrinkly trust me :)

[notnights]

I’m an entity incapable of being referred to in the third person you don’t need my pronouns.