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lunamugetsu · 2 months

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House Husband Danny

(Remember this post I made: Danny is a househusband. Well I decided to make it into a story) Crossposted from AO3. Here's a link

Location: Unknown, Date: Unknown

Three figures emerged from a glowing pit of green water, gasping for air as they dragged themselves out.

A man with dark skin was breathing heavily and went to shake the pale man with dark hair that was still unconscious. He paused as another hand was raised motioning for him to stop. He looked over at the women with long black hair.

“He’s tired, let him rest.” She said

“What are we going to do?” the woman merely smiled as she turned to fix the damp hair that was covering the unconscious man’s face.

“Simple… Danny will rest and heal…and we will live like the rulers we are.” She turned to look at her other partner.

“Yes… we will,” he confirmed as they both smiled while looking at their love.

Present Day

Danny hummed as he put away the newly washed dishes from dinner.

Ah, how nice it was to be in a home where the food didn’t come alive and try to declare war on him.

One less thing to worry about.

Now that dinner was eaten and leftovers were put away. He could focus on the package that came in the mail, he had been waiting for it for weeks.

Tucker and Sam had called ahead to say that they were working late.

What a shame.

Danny sat down in the living room and turned on the tv while cracking open the package.

“This is Lois Lane reporting for the Daily Planet! Breaking news as the Justice League members Superman and Wonder Woman are fighting off villains in Metropolis! They have been identified as the new villains: Upload and Nightshade. They made their first appearance known to the world a couple months ago- JIMMY LOOK OUT!”

The camera shook for a moment before stabilizing showing Superman was holding onto Lois Lane and Wonder Woman was holding onto the cameraman.

“It’s not safe here, please evacuate to a safer area.” Superman said before speeding off with Wonder Woman following close behind.

“Jimmy get a shot! That’s Nightshade!” the reporter said pointing to a large plant-like monster made of vines and thorns that was the size of a skyscraper. The cameraman zoomed in on the figure that was currently sitting on the monster’s shoulder. A woman with long black hair that appeared as if it was almost floating in an ethereal manner. She was a pale woman wearing a black skintight bodysuit with matching thigh high boots, black bandages were wrapped around her forearms while her hands lit up with a neon green energy along with her eyes. Nightshade smiled, turning to look straight into the direction of the camera before saying some words that the camera couldn’t pick up before humongous vines started filling up the camera’s screen, the sound of screaming could be heard before the feed was cut.

“That doesn’t look good,” Danny commented before turning back to the open package.

Ooh, that fabric did feel as soft as it was advertised! He better try it on to see it fit. He knew he checked the measurements before placing the order but still, mistakes always happened. He was also still a little hungry, perhaps some fruit from the fridge would be good.

It was a couple of minutes before the for the news to come back on. Danny sat down on the couch, sporting a plate of fruit with a side of whipped cream to dip it in. He plopped one into his mouth as the tv started airing the news again.

The camera lens managed to stay undamaged as the camera man and the reporter were taking cover behind the corner of a building focusing on the figure that was currently standing in front of a fallen Superman that was grimacing as the green light from the glowing rock in the figure’s gloved hand seemed to intensify. It also didn’t help that there appeared to be a set of special cuffs that were encasing the superheroes hands, forcing them together.

“And here I was thinking that defeating you couldn’t be that easy… well then again. Can’t expect a superhero to just not react to their greatest weakness. Kryptonite wasn’t really hard to track down who had a stash of these, it was even easier to take it. ” The figure was a man with dark skin with long dreadlocks and was wearing a visor that covered hi eyes from view. He wore a long coat with short sleeves letting people see the robotic gloves that went up all the way up his arms. The camera picked up a hum emanating from the robotic arms and crack of electricity.

“Why? Why are you doing this, Upload?” Superman said as he made to force himself to stand despite his bound hands.

“Hmm, wealth, fame, power, pettiness, destroying all the buildings I want without needing to pay for it, or maybe I just don’t like people who call themselves heroes,” Upload said as he moved to the side as Wonder Woman was thrown into a building.

“Truly, I thought they’d give more of a challenge,” Nightshade commented as the plant-monster then slammed a hand down onto Wonder Woman encasing the superhero in vines making it practically impossible for the woman to rip out of.

Danny hummed as he looked at the news.

He should probably help… he stuck a strawberry into his mouth.

“How do you think we should do this, Nightshade? Slowly and methodical, or fast and exciting?” Upload turned to look at Nightshade.

“Obviously, something with mo-“

RING! RING! RING!

The two supervillains looked towards each other. Upload taking out a phone from his pocket while Nightshade motioned for the plant monster to give her, her bag so she could take out her phone.

“Hello/Hello.” Thy said answering their phone in unison.

“You’re hungry?” Nightshade asked.

“We did say we were working late, you’re welcome to eat out if you want- huh? I mean, what are you wearing?” Upload said

The two paused and looked at each other.

“The thing you ordered a couple weeks ago?” Upload said, “the red one?”

“That’s made with silk?” Nightshade hands were clenching down onto her phone.

“And you’re eating,” Upload looked over at Nightshade.

“Strawberries and whipped cream,” She said.

Ding! Ding!

The two turned to their phone at having received a message. The villains looked at their phone and then to each other.

“We’ll be there in ten!” they said in unison before putting away their phones.

It happened quickly.

With a wave her hand, all of the plants started retreating back away from the superheroes while saying some words that the camera couldn ’t pick up and a portal opened right next to her.

Meanwhile Upload placed the kryptonite into a contain while hitting some buttons that were on his gloves and the cuffs that were on Superman unlocked and fell off the man ’s wrists.

Nightshade motioned for the now human-sized plant monster to walk through the portal while Upload was walking up to her.

“Wait! Where do you think you’re goin-” Wonder Woman and Superman held their ears as a loud sound echoed out a tool that Upload threw on the ground.

“Oh no! How dare you heroes foil our evil plan!” Nightshade said in a dead tone before grabbing Upload by his collar, “c’mon we gotta go!”

The two ran into the portal, disappearing out of sight, leaving nothing but the aftermath of the destruction of the fight they had with the two heroes.

“I’m sorry, what the heck just happened?!” Lois Lane said, turning to look at the camera.

Danny hummed as he turned off the tv and took his plate of food with him as he got off the couch.

He needed to get upstairs, after all, Sam and Tucker weren’t going to be working late after all.

The man sat himself into the master bedroom, it had a bed that was an Alaskan King size. Largest size of bed they could find, could easily fit a whole family of four on it. He didn’t even know beds came in that size.

Danny continued humming as he settled himself down in the middle of the bed. The sheets were made of Egyptian cotton. Ethically sourced, of course. Sam wouldn’t stand sleeping on something that was made by a company that destroyed the environment while simultaneously overworking and underpaying their employees. Tucker had come to the rescue, buying a set of sheets on his last trip from Egypt. They had to custom order it especially since their bed didn’t fit the common dimensions that mass production usually went by.

But he wasn’t complaining, the bed was really… nice.

He laid back against the pillows, wearing nothing but the little red number that came in the mail that day.

He dipped a strawberry into the whipped cream and took a bite out of it. Giving a hum as he enjoyed the taste. It was so nice not to have to worry about anything. No ghosts trying to kill him, no government agency trying to track him down to vivisect and kill him, no parents trying to shoot, vivisect, and kill him- Danny wondered if that was a normal amount of people to have to want to kill him.

Whatever, it didn’t matter anymore.

He smiled as he heard the sound of the front door being slammed open and shut followed by a furious pattering sound of feet going up the stairs. He hoped they’d taken their shoes off when they got in. He just vacuumed the house that afternoon.

The door to the bedroom opened with a bang as he saw Sam and Tucker, wearing their civilian clothing that they had clearly just thrown on with no thought of whether or not they should straighten out any of the clothes or at least to check if they put on their shirt inside out. It was a rule though, never bring work home, it always brought trouble. They had enough trouble dealing with ghosts to last a lifetime, let alone the afterlife.

“I’m hungry,” Danny said while taking a bite of a strawberry and licking off cream that caught on his lip. He could see them already looking at his mouth and trailing their eyes across the new article of clothing he was wearing.. The man curled his finger to motion for them to come closer.

“Come and feed me.” He smiled as his partners joined him in bed.

Ah, it was so nice when his partners didn’t work late nights.

#dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom x dc #dpxdc #dpxjustice league #everlasting trio #cross posted on ao3

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gatorbites-imagines · 7 months

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Kinktober day 16

Jason Todd + leather or Latex

I had like, no ideas what to do with this prompt ngl, so I just kinda went with whatever came to me when writing.

Crime lord Red Hood has always had a special place in my heart

Kinktober 2023 masterlist.

Working for The Red Hood wasn’t too bad, especially compared to the other rogues you’d had to work for in the past. With Hood you didn’t have to fear suddenly being shot because Two-face suddenly felt like it, or being eaten by whatever plants Ivy had conjured up, or answering whatever riddles the Riddler came up with that day.

Best part was probably the uniform though. All rogues put their people in specific clothes. For the joker it was clown masks and all that junk, Riddler wanted you in stuff with question mark print, penguin wanted you well dressed in suit and tie, the list went on. For Hood just wearing red seemed to be enough. Most seemed to just resort to wearing a red hoodie under their jacket, and that was enough.

Interestingly enough, working for Hood also came with some benefits, like being allowed to keep stuff from different conflicts as long as it didn’t cause issues for Hood. That was where you found your first leather, some rich guy from Metropolis tried to set up in Gotham and was quickly dealt with. If Gotham hated anyone more than each other, it was outsiders trying to barge in and make a name for themselves.

The guy had been wearing a sturdy but not too flashy leather jacket, so after checking the pockets and for bullet holes and seeing it in one piece, you tucked it over your arm and brought it home. You had to cut the tags out and changed the inner fabric to something cheaper, and most importantly, into something red, but the quality was no lie.

You realized you might have had a thing for Leather one night when you had needed to go out for some small run for Hood, and you’d been too tired and lazy to put on a shirt. You ended up going out in a pair of low waisted denim pants, some well worn boots, and your jacket. No one batted an eye, at all, seeing a shirtless guy was far from the weirdest shit in Gotham, but the feel of leather on your skin seemed to have lit something inside you.

After that you might have subconsciously started looking for the stuff whenever you went on raids or into fights for Hood and his territory. Who cared if you stole some hotshot from star cities leather west and hat, or that guy from Texas whose black leather boots you stole right off his feet. You didn’t touch the pants though, even though you really really wanted too, you just didn’t trust them not to be contaminated by all kinds of junk.

You honestly thought you hid it pretty well, your draw to leather that is. Everyone had their thing, and you always wearing your jacket and boots was just something you did. If you went home to get dressed all the way down to just your jacket and boots though to jerk off was another thing entirely.

But it seemed your draw to the last targets pants hadn’t gone fully unnoticed by your boss. Imagine your surprise when he shoved a package into your arms one night and told you to only check it when you got home, the modulator of his helmet making him seem way more serious than he probably was.

You wouldn’t say you were outright friends with Hood, no one could really be friends with their boss in the criminal world, but you cracked jokes with the guy and even got him to laugh on the regular. You patched him up when he needed it, and he dragged you to Leslie’s clinic when you got knocked around a bit too hard, which happened more than you liked to admit.

When you got home you had almost assumed that the package would hold weapons or maybe even drugs, even though Hood didn’t personally deal the stuff. But instead, you found what you immediately noticed was leather, a card placed on top of the neatly folded leather. The letter was in Hoods writing, and you felt your face heat up a tad at the words on the page.

“Next time just let me buy it for you instead of stealing it off bodies” it said, and when you unfolded the leather, you felt your insides flutter. It was pants, they seemed even better quality than the ones you had been eying the night before. But it wasn’t just pants, there was a newer jacket, it was brown and heavy and was very well worn, and when you held it out in front of you, you could see it was one of Hoods own jackets.

You could feel blood running downwards, leaving you fumbling with your clothes as you got undressed, feeling almost desperate to pull the pants up your legs and hips. They were tight, but not too tight, and there was no question about the quality. Your original jacket fell to the ground with a heavy thud, your fingers quickly grabbing the heavy well-loved leather of the brown jacket and pulling it on, a shaky breath leaving you as the smell that was so clearly Hood filled your senses.

It smelled like leather, gun oil, the cigarettes he smoked when he was annoyed or on edge, and something undeniably Hood, and it had you tenting your new pants. Or tenting as well as one could in leather, which meant it was more a visible bulge running down the inside of your thigh. It had felt so good on your skin that you had found yourself grinding against your hand on your couch like some inexperienced fool. Your back had arched off the couch as you stained the inside of your pants, the leather growing slick against you as you groaned.

It was only later when cleaning the leather that you noticed the writing in the waistband, near the back so it would sit near the bottom of your spine. “Red Hood” it said, like some kind of statement of ownership, and you had shivered and exhaled shakily, rubbing a hand over your face to dispel the thoughts it awoke in your body.

Next time you saw Hood you had worn the pants, but the jacket was left at home. The worn jacket didn’t go well with the newer shinier leather of the pants, so it was your normal jacket and boots, which had some of your friends joke a bit about you being some kind of leather daddy because of your interest in the stuff. You had let the jokes run off your back, joking along every now and then.

You hadn’t even noticed Hood being there until he had appeared behind you, his gloved hand grabbing your ass and giving it a squeeze. Youd almost snapped around and decked him, assuming it was someone else, that was until you heard his modulated voice. “You’re wearing my gift. You like it?” he purred obviously enough that you could hear it even through the voice changer.

You could feel your skin growing clammy as you gave a small nod, not even daring to look at hood as he pressed his crotch against your back, his erection obvious even through all your shared layers. “Good, you look so hot in it” he rumbled, giving your thighs an extra squeeze before he stepped back and wandered off, leaving you unsteady on your feet as you tried to force the obvious hard shape in your pants away, for once cursing how tight they were.

It continued on this way for a while, Hood leaving you presents, and you would wear them around his headquarters. It was never expensive or high quality enough for anyone to target you, but Hood seemed to enjoy it very much. It felt almost like having a sugar daddy or some kind, but he had never demanded much sugar, only grabbing your ass at times, or rubbing his hands up and down your torso that time you’d worn a leather shirt under your jacket.

He was a tease, and you could hear the shit eating grin through his helmet as you ground against his thick thigh one day. You felt so wound up from his lingering touches that you had found yourself in his office one day, or what you guys called his office anyways. Maybe you wanted a fight of some kind, you weren’t sure, but one thing led to another, and you pinned up against the wall, his thigh between your own.

And now you were grinding against his thigh like some kind of pervert, your fingers digging into the worn leather of his jacket as you gasped into his shoulder. You didn’t even notice as he pulled off his gloves or spat on his fingers, it was only when one of his hands was shoved down the back of your leather pants and between your cheeks that you realised. A groan left you as he rubbed the pad of his finger against your pucker, his voice cocky as he asked if this was what you wanted.

You tried to glare at him, but it only seemed to fuel him more as Hood pushed his finger inside, letting you adjust before he started moving to the best of his ability, your tight pants not leaving much room to move his wrist. The stimulation was driving you crazy, the tight leather of your pants doing nothing to lessen the experience as you ground forwards into his thigh, before you pushed back onto his hand.

Running your hands down his torso and up his shirt, you could keep the moan from leaving you as you felt something too smooth and slick to be leather. It was Latex, he was wearing a latex shirt under everything else, maybe it was even a full body thing as it continued as you thumbed at the waistband of his pants.

Your exploring just seemed to fuel him more as Hood added not just a second but a third finger at the same time, letting you just barely adjust to the stretch before he started moving his hand once more, causing you to grind harder against his thigh.

It was impossible to fight back the orgasm that rocked through you, thoroughly slicking up the crotch area of your leather pants as there was no fabric to soak it up, letting it splatter against your thighs and lower body. You could feel yourself twitch a bit as Hood removed his fingers, instead grabbing onto your hips and lifting you up, making your legs wrap around his waist.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to ask what he was up too as he walked backwards, plopping down on his chair with you in his lap, sighing softly as he started rubbing his hands up your torso, flicking your chest through the leather shirt you had chosen to wear. “You alright baby?” he asked, voice warm and caring, leaving you feeling all types of mushy.

You just scoffed and leaned forwards, resting against his broad shoulders and coiling your arms around him. Hood rubbed your back for a while before rolling his chair close to his desk, the taping of keys letting you know he was working on one thing or the other. In the end you found yourself with both your hands up his shirt, rubbing at his latex covered torso as you rocked lazily against his thigh, no hurry in your movements as you knew you had all night, and it would happen soon if the twitching bulge between Hoods thighs meant anything.

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hunksexydefeat · 5 months

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Superman tries to stop the evil Parasite from destroying Metropolis, but gets caught in the villain’s lair and stripped down to nothing but his super thong. Seeing the man of steel’s exposed package, Parasite can’t resist grabbing hold of Superman’s buff member and draining the life out of the doomed hero’s body.

From muscledominationwrestling’s Super Men video series, although I can’t seem to find the original video to purchase.

#gay wrestling #jobber #gay superheroes #gay superman

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fatehbaz · 17 days

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They’ve built a “Great Wheel” on the Seattle waterfront [...].

The small timber village became a military outpost in the Puget Sound War [...], [and] soon evolved into a trade gateway, with timber tailings and other industrial trash from Henry Yesler’s mill used to fill in the marshlands [...], atop which migrant laborers raised tents and shanties [...] now working to feed raw materials into the furnaces of the Second Industrial Revolution burning in the East. [...] The first nationwide strike ripped across the country’s railways in 1877, but in Seattle the unrest took on a grim character, as thousands of unemployed white workers rioted against their Chinese counterparts [...]. Meanwhile, [...] local elites rebuilt [...] downtown [...] from scratch, hosting the tallest building on the West Coast alongside other new constructs [fueled] with money gleaned from the supply chains linking eastern capital to Alaskan gold. [...] Today the city - again rebuilt [...] - is seen as one of the primary beneficiaries of the “Fifth” Industrial Revolution in information technology, outshone only by California’s Silicon Valley. [...] The digital was increasingly thought of as somehow "immaterial," sustained by intellectual labor more than physical toil [...].

Silicon Valley myths of [...] "immaterial" labor disguise a more gruesome dynamic in which growing segments of the global labor force are being deprived even of the basic brutality of the wage, instead forced out into growing rings of slums, prisons, and global wastelands. [...]

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Perched alongside a downtown business corridor [...], Seattle's Great Wheel seems to peer out over [...] [the] prophesied “cooperative commons,” an infotech metropolis abutting the beauty of an evergreen arcadia. But travel below Seattle’s cluster of infotech industries and the image appears much the same as that of a hundred years prior - a trade gateway, squeezing value from supply chains by selling transport and logistical support. The southern stretch of the metropolis bears little resemblance to the revitalized urban core of the city proper. Instead of the “cognitive labor” of Microsoft, it is defined instead by the cold calculation of companies like UPS, founded in Seattle when the city was one link in a colonial supply chain built first for timber, then Alaskan gold, then World War. [...]

In south Seattle, this logistics empire takes the form of faceless warehouses, food processing facilities, container trucks, rail yards, and industrial parks concentrated between two seaports, an international airport, three major interstates, and railroads traveling in all directions. Meanwhile, the poor have been priced out of the old inner city, moving southward [...]. [T]hey can be found staffing the airport and the rail yards, hauling cargo in and out of two the major seaports, loading boxes in warehouses [...]. And, beyond them, the shadow stretches out to Washington’s rural hinterlands where migrant laborers staff a new boom in agriculture and raw materials [...] - and further still into America’s long-depressed interior, where the Great Wheel meets its opposite: Memphis, the FedEx logistics city, watched over by a great black pyramid [the infamous Bass Pro Shop pyramid]. [...]

Every Seattle is capable of creating an eco-friendly, “cooperative commonwealth” tended by apps and algorithms only insofar as there is a Memphis that can provide human workers to sort the packages, a Shanghai to build the containers that carry them, and a Shenzhen to solder together the circuits of the machines that govern it all.

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All text above by: Phil A. Neel. "The Great Wheel". Brooklyn Rail. April 2015. Published online at: brooklynrail.org/2015/04/field-notes/the-great-wheel. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Text within brackets added by me for clarity. Presented here for commentary, teaching, personal use, criticism purposes.]

#ecology #multispecies #abolition #imperial #colonial #edwardian #temporality #hinterlands

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lgbtpopcult · 8 months

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October 2024 wlw entertainment rundown

youtube

Lucky My Love, First episode drops October 28th on YouTube

youtube

Everything Now, Netflix, October 5

youtube

The Fall of the House of Usher, October 12, 2023

Movies

youtube

Tripped Up, October 20,

Books, Games, Music etc.

In A World Of Our Own: Chasing Dreams And Love

Sophia Miller, an openly lesbian supermodel, enjoys her solitary life in the bustling heart of New York City. But when her gay millionaire best friend, Chris Anderson, requests her to play his pretend girlfriend for a family gathering in Texas, she can't refuse. After all, Chris is on the brink of becoming the CEO of the billion-dollar Anderson Corp.

Enter Alissa Anderson, the Oxford and Cambridge-educated, closeted lesbian daughter of the conservative and formidable Henry Anderson. With the CEO position at Anderson Corp now up for grabs, Alissa finds herself in a fierce rivalry with her own brother. Ascending to the top of the family business and shattering traditional gender roles has always been her ultimate dream. However, her well-laid plans begin to unravel when she encounters her brother's "girlfriend" at a pivotal family gathering on their Texas ranch.

When Sophia and Alissa's worlds collide at the Anderson estate, everything is on the line: the coveted CEO position, concealed sexual identities, a sham relationship, and a burgeoning real one that threatens to bloom amidst the chaos.

“Sushi for Empress Setsuko” is a cozy and comedic point & click adventure game and yuri dating sim set in a fantastical Japan-inspired land. Follow Mizumi Nagashima as she travels around the Empire, seeing gorgeous views, catching delicious fish, and charming beautiful women.

RELEASE DATE:

3 Oct, 2023

Iris Kelly Doesn't Date

A fake relationship after a horrible one-night stand is anything but an act in this witty and heartfelt new romantic comedy by Ashley Herring Blake.

Everyone around Iris Kelly is in love. Her best friends are all coupled up, her siblings have partners that are perfect for them, and her parents are still blissfully married. And she’s happy for all of them, truly. Iris doesn’t want any of that—dating, love, romance. She’ll stick to her commitment-free hookups, thanks very much, except no one in her life will just let her be. Everyone wants to see her settled down, but she holds firmly to her no dating rule. There’s only one problem—Iris is a romance author facing an imminent deadline for her second book, and she’s completely out of ideas.

Perfectly happy to ignore her problems as per usual, Iris goes to a bar in Portland and meets a sexy stranger, Stefania, and a night of dancing and making out turns into the worst one-night stand Iris has had in her life. To get her mind off everything, Iris tries out for the lead role in a local play, a queer retelling of Much Ado About Nothing, but comes face-to-face with Stefania, whose real name turns out to be Stevie. Desperate to save face in front of her friends, Stevie asks Iris to play along as her girlfriend. Iris is shocked, but when she realizes the arrangement might provide her with some much-needed romantic content for her book, she agrees. As the two women play the part of a happy couple, lines start to blur, and they’re left wondering who will make the real first move....

Moonlight in Garland is a cozy open-ended life-sim video game that sees you making a new life in the bustling metropolis of Garland. Find an apartment and make it perfectly yours, befriend your neighbours, grow your urban garden, solve community problems and experience all the weirdly wonderful stuff that city living offers.

Of course, city life isn’t all farmers markets and fancy coffee. Will you step in to stop the heritage building from being torn down and preserve a piece of history? Look after the neighbourhood so more residents stick around? Figure out which jerk is stealing packages from the mail room? Be swept up in a whirlwind romance along the way?

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fryingpan1234567 · 1 year

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Ladies and gentlemen and everything in between, it is nine degrees Fahrenheit outside

as a result: how well different DC characters handle the cold (because we all know it gets freezing in Gotham, sometimes right in the middle of the summer. Metropolis, Star, and Central City aren’t much better.)

Damian Wayne: he’s been raised from a very young age to withstand conditions harsher than most adults- cold was included in that package. However, that doesn’t mean he likes it. He’s right there with his siblings when they get back from a particularly frigid patrol, stumbling to the nearest fireplaces and dialing every naturally warm-running Kryptonian they know for cuddles (of course Dami would only ever be cuddling with Jon, but sometimes it’s nice to be sandwiched between him and Kara as well)

(That in itself is a sight to behold- Cass and Steph snuggling up to their gf Kara who totally has work tomorrow, Jon forcing Dami into his lap with like six blankets so he doesn’t get sick, Tim is literally melted into Conner’s side and hasn’t woken up since he got here, Dick and a reluctant Jason are sharing a massive blanket with Kon, and Clark and Bruce take pictures before sneaking off to cuddle without the prying eyes of their kids while Alfred makes everyone hot cocoa)

There are several heroes including the Flash, Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, and ofc their respective people (speedsters, Kryptonians, Amazons, Atlantians) who don’t really… get cold. They tend to be used as heated blankets for other JL members and their kids lol

Wally West does not like the cold. Although he never has to worry about it actually damaging him because of his healing factor, it’s just unpleasant as a whole. So that means he comes home to Dick from patrol shivering, with a brand new cold, and pissed off. Dick will just hold him under multiple blankets in bed, watching Disney’s Frozen until they’re both asleep.

Jason Todd is used to it. He grew up on the streets and before that in poverty, so he’s no stranger to Gotham winter. He’ll often give his leather jacket and gloves to people he sees without, leaving him in just his suit and maybe he starts to get a bit chilly by then but it’s so worth it to know he made someone’s night a little more bearable. Plus he’s got a boyfriend and daughter to warm him up when he gets home.

Harley Quinn is an absolute psychopath and rarely wears a coat, even when it’s in the negatives. She’s out there in her pigtails (dyed green and red instead of blue and pink for the holidays!!) and skimpy skirts, not a sign of the winter in sight as far as her outfit goes (unless you count the hideous tree skirt she’s wrapped around her shoulders like a poncho). Something about her is just… immune. And it’s great, bc her gf Ivy definitely does not do quite as well as her in the cold and she’s happy to provide warmth whenever necessary.

Jon Kent is aware that it’s cold outside, but the funny thing is that it doesn’t bother him until he starts thinking about it. Like he’ll be on patrol with Dami or Conner, perfectly fine, and all of a sudden he’s aware of Damian’s chattering or Conner tugging his jacket closer at a gust of wind and then he’s so cold he wants to claw his own skin off. Luckily, whoever he’s with is willing to get him a hot cocoa at the nearest coffee shop, but still, he hates the cold. As a Kryptonian, it’s just unnatural.

Bruce Wayne has had hypothermia so many times in his Batman days that his temperature sensors are honestly dead. Obviously not great, but it means he can sit atop a gargoyle with 70mph frigid winds whipping past and hold whatever bird is tucked beneath his cape to hide from the weather without being affected whatsoever. There is a limit- Alfred has ordered that he come home when the frostbite kicks in, because he does need all his limbs to fight crime, but that’s the extent of his winter protection.

Tim Drake is the type of guy to forget it’s December and march out the house in a short sleeve, almost get blown off his feet by an aggressive breeze, declare “NOPE” and head right back inside. In the winter he does prefer mochas, but he adds so many extra shots of espresso you almost can’t even taste the chocolate anymore. Only Tim Drake could find Christmas horror movies, but he manages, and that’s how he spends 90% of his wintertime, Conner tucked into his side like a personal bf heater.

You know who really likes the cold? Diana Fucking Prince. She never got snow or even so much as a chilly breeze on the island- and you know what the snow does remind her of? That night. The one where she and Steve slow danced in the town square after saving the village, all the way back in WWII. It was the first time she’d ever experienced the cold, but it thankfully wasn’t the last (:

With that guys I gotta go to bed- I’m finally on winter break!! Have a good morning/ night/ 4am y’all 🥰

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atheliasnotebook · 2 years

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honeydewed reaffirmations

character(s): tighnari, kaeya, diluc, childe, heizou, kazuha, albedo (bonus: thoma ft. the kamisato family)

⭐ note: reader is gender neutral unless specified otherwise! ⭐

tags: fluff, comfort, teyvat metro au, fun facts about common ailments (don't worry, they're just common things, they aren't described in horribly gross details),

warnings: mentions or minor display of blood (childe, kazuha), pet name: "baby" (childe), pet name: "lovey" (kazuha), story spoiler that's been alternated to fit the teyvat metropolis au (kazuha), pet name: "pumpkin" (albedo), pet name: "babe" (thoma)

author’s note: guys i've been suffering the past month with infections and colds, and in the month that I've descended several layers of pain as if they were the circles of hell, I've officially become a certified heizou simp. god, it's so clear who I clearly favorite more than the other in this post...

it's that time of year when everyone falls ill (despite the care that they give to their bodies). so, how does your boyfriend for you in such dark times?

🌳 tighnari [acute otitis externa] (infection in outer ear canal)

"and what did i say about using q-tips everyday?" the fox says reprimandingly in a soft tone and disappointedly sighs with drooping ears as he pats down on his bed, pointing to your head before pointing to the pillow.

you couldn't help it. for the past few days, it felt really good to scratch those itches at the very start of your earhole every so often. and sometimes you scratched it too hard, so you took another one of those cursed white cotton-tipped sticks and wet it with water—only to dive back in and "soothe" the pain. and eventually, you decided to scratch deeper into your ear, but not more than 3 centimeters in.

little did you know that not only would you heavily irritate your ear's canals by doing that, but allow any outside bacteria to say "hey, that part of (y/n)'s body is looking extra scrumptious today..." for the most part, 'nari noted that it's not good to use q-tips every day, and in general, never at all. all it really does is push your earwax further down your ear. sure, feels nice—but it's more harm than good.

your ear is on goddamn fire. your earlobe is comparable to the color of the packaging on a red bottle of painkillers resting atop the bedside table, and you swear that the pressure building in your ears will make your head explode. understanding the gestures of tighnari, a well-known pharmacist in the sumeru district of teyvat metropolis, you lay on your side and adjust your head on the memory foam pillow in his apartment. trying not to focus on the pain, and rather, on the fox-fellow's question, you answer with the acknowledgment that you, in fact, shouldn't have used so many or scratched at your ear with them.

the pharmacist pulls out a tiny bottle of eardrops, which he holds with only his pointer finger and his thumb as he quickly unscrews the cap.

"i made this prescription with the orders given by your doctor. it's not going to burn, but it may feel like your ear is going through a freezer. you will need to lay with it in your ear for quite a few minutes..." 'nari explains while scooting closer as he adjusts his grip and leans forth, with one hand on the bottle and the other resting near your face on the sheets.

"hold still for me. if it makes you feel any better, you can hold my hand."

crying from the headache, you close your eyes and sniffle as you embrace the cold droplets of medicine running down your ear canal and filling up the crevices of infection. for just a second, everything in your body feels just as cold as the droplets, and you're startled by how chilly it feels—you grip 'nari's hand for some support. although you can't see him through closed eyes, his fluffy ears droop slightly as he wrinkles his brows, just wishing for you to be in the least amount of pain possible.

"you're doing great," he nods, smiling and sighing with creased eyebrows as he wiped your tears away—while finally pressing a kiss to your forehead and caressing the top of your head with his thumb. "just make sure to heed my advice next time, and let me know if anything else begins to hurt, alright?"

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❄️ kaeya alberich [pyrexia] (fever (due to exhaustion))

he with sigh and chuckles. "you always complain how my hands are freezing whenever you want to hold them—but now you're begging for me to rest one on your head as if I'm some sort of deity?"

you groan out, weakly flailing a hand out in the direction of kaeya's voice to search for his hand in the darkness of your closed gaze. you're not in the mood for kaeya's ever-so-teasingly and slightly sly comments, and just want everything to be closer to the apex of human homeostasis. everything hurts. why is the world so mean? why is your work so mean? even kaeya is a little salty that they're giving you tasks with such harsh and quickly-upcoming deadlines while you're sick. everything feels too hot, even when you've got only one thin blanket draped over your body. mumbling out a few words, you can only express your desire for something cold.

"you can use my hand as a cooling pad..." he begins to explain with a chuckle, "... only if you can promise to stop staying up late working and drink water instead of drinking coffee or those energy drinks from the convenience store down the block."

while you groan in defeat, disappointment, and understanding, kaeya stands up to wash his hands in the bathroom sink of your master bedroom, quickly drying off his hands with a towel as he takes his seat once again on the same wooden stool that he just rose from.

"work can wait. that's why you have co-workers to help you when you're not there—" he reassures, cracking his hand before gently resting the back of his palm on your forehead to simply check your temperature, before, rotating it to cusp over the entire surface gently with his fingers. you melt in the freezing temperature of his body heat.

although you don't know what he looks like, you can feel the cloth of his loose lounge shirt tickle your wrist as he decides to readjust from the stool to sit on the bed right by you. you smile weakly at the touch and sound of the creaking frame, and he too reciprocates unknowingly to you. although he is cocky, he does it because he loves you. although it pains him slightly to see you in such a state, he puts the fact that you need to prioritize your health above anything else.

"make sure to let me know if my hand only ends up making you feel warmer. we don't want you to literally become a baked potato, now, do we?"

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🔥 diluc ragnvindr [myalgia] (muscle pain)

"come on, sit up. let's see... hmmm... did you injure yourself again carrying something, or did you fall asleep in an awkward position?"

whatever your answer is, if it is one of the two propositions from above—diluc would respond with:

"you know, if you keep doing that, you'll end up with worse posture than those wavy balloon men at the gas station," and then proceed to immediately come over and press his warm hands against the skin for 20 seconds to a minute before digging his thumbs and rubbing them in circles just the right amount into your skin to provide some sort of relief.

if it's not, whether it be stiffness in the neck from a hunch, soreness in the shoulders from awful posture, cramps from a period, diluc will always say:

"tell me where it hurts, then."

nope, not even a question of "where does it hurt," just a commandment and promise that he will do everything in his power to make you feel better. when your muscles ache that bad, he'll bring over a bucket of hot water and some small and smooth rags to drape over your affected area(s). diluc, although he's not a man for active conversation, can still analyze pain points from just a glance with you. there have many times when you just haven't complained about the problem, but he has taken note of the problem and mutters how much he doesn't want to keep seeing you in pain like this. being one of the richest men in the entire district (and is one of the most affluent in the city) has its perks, so he's thinking about finding one of the best people in the city to come and give you a diagnosis while hiring someone else to temporarily soothe the pain.

"i've yet to find a standby masseuse to treat you when I'm working. how about calling up...—what? you don't want a masseuse...?" he asks, tilting his head confusedly as he works his way into your muscles.

"... fine," he sighs, pulling you slightly closer to him and kissing your cheek. "but I can only massage you in the mornings and late evenings due to work. if your soreness becomes a problem during the high noon, so I can fetch an attendant to come and assist you."

"you have to let me know... can you do that for me?" he shudders, taking his arms and wrapping them around your waist while resting his head gently on your shoulder. "i trust you," he begins, his gaze fluttering to yours. "—but i cherish you too dearly to let you suffer with this hardship on your own."

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🐳 childe [minor abrasion] (accidental arm scrape)

"how did you manage your scrape your arm like this?" he asks, chuckling as he takes a gander at the underside of your arm—which trickles a stream or two of blood and bears some scraped skin that parts to the sides. "don't tell me you got into a battle with the table, now."

you shrug and shudder when he gently presses his thumb on the edges of your inflamed skin. again with the sly ass comments. in your defense, cleaning the dining room table shouldn't be that hard, but you tripped on accident and scraped your entire arm on the corner of the mahogany furniture piece. it stings a bit, but it isn't too deep in, thankfully. with care, he takes your other hand and replaces it with his—which is the one propping up your arm in midair.

"go take a seat on the couch while I go grab some bandages," he states before heading down to the hallway's bathroom. you oblige to his orders, adjusting your arm so your blood doesn't drip all over the floor as you approach the soft cushions in the living room.

ten seconds pass, and you hear the soft and nimble footsteps of childe's stride getting louder, looking at his white and gray-toed cloth socks contrast with the polished wooden floors of your cozy home. taking in the scent of his cologne, your eyes drag from the floor up to his hands carefully unwrapped a tiny alcohol towelette.

"it shouldn't get infected that easily, but it's better to be safe than sorry. grip my arm if it the pain is too much," he says, carefully dabbing at the edges to clean the dried red rivulets on opposite sides of your arm.

it doesn't hurt, and yes—you were cleaning to clear your mind before attempting to search for a newfound inspiration. after a few seconds of ajax occasionally pecking you on the wrist as he wipes, he inches slightly closer to the wound, focused on his handiwork rather than how your nails dig into his arm.

"i know it stings, baby. after i'm done bandaging you, I'll give you as many kisses as you want, sound like a deal?"

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🔎 shikanoin heizou [acute tussis] (coughing)

"oh my... that cough of yours is getting heavier by the day—you remembered to wear a jacket on our tour with the general at watatsumi, didn't you?"

nope. in fact, you did not bring a jacket. in fact, you're so used to the hot desert-like weather in the sumeru hiking area that you still feel like everything is always too warm in the fall—you just happened to forget to bring your coat on the one day you left from taking private investigation jobs near the city. curse the city weather for actually being on time. damn the water making everything cold. watatsumi park is so pretty, but you swear, getting sick like this is a hindrance to the agency, considering how being heizou's partner literally doubles and lessens the load for incoming cases. sure, maybe your co-workers are slightly happy that they'll actually get a chance to take a case before you and mister no. 1 detective do, but they still show an ounce of sympathy for your declining health.

although you are an investigator, most of your work is closer to a lawyer than an actual detective—a perfect match for the tenryou forces. it's a job that can doesn't require a lot of adventuring that may risk your health, and lets you help people in your own sort of way at the front.

your gaze drops to the floor with an awkward chuckle, following with a negative reply to heizou that you forgot to bring something warm. he sighs, clicking his tongue and creasing his eyebrows with a head shake.

"you may have done outstanding in your most recent court trial, however, you must not disregard your own body in spite of your achievements."

he sighs, pushing in a stray chair to the white marbled island counter while taking a small, plastic box out of the fridge with colored orange-beigesque paste inside—on the front, reading "miso paste."

"i'll get the water boiling so i can make some soup for the both of us. in the meantime, i will go grab a bunch of warm blankets so you can curl up on the couch and relax. if you want cough medicine, it's in the fridge. i recall how you didn't like the naku weed flavor from last time, so instead, i bought another bottle of a different flavor that i thought you might like at a shop in ritou."

the detective's ever-so-observant, as always. not even three days after you've returned, he's made sure to prepare some remedies so you feel like you can take on the world, like he knows you can do. he holds the stove dial for a second, listening to the ticking of the burner before rotating it just a smidge.

"when you feel as though your health is improving, we can go eat wherever you wish to celebrate of our accomplishments."

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🍃 kaedehara kazuha [orthocoronavirinae] (covid-19)

"please stay in bed," he mutters, approaching with a baby blue facemask covering half his face and a bowl—black on the outside, and red on the inside, all with an inversely-colored spoon to ladle your soup with.

he only says this since you tried to get up. your body feels heavy, and kazuha can tell just by the way you take off the blankets and walk like an old grandparent. it's like the world decided to take 250% of your body weight and split it between two invisible boxes, and then balance them on your shoulders. everything feels like a cold, but worse. but not worse than pneumonia kind of bad. sure, you're hacking up a congestion storm, sniffling as though you got out of the worst rain weather imaginable, and shaking like you've stepped off of dragonspine, but at least you're not whooping up any blood.

"you need not worry, lovey, please—lay down. i have called up your company and have already reported that you have covid. with the new work law in our district, they are granting you an extended paid sick leave," he explains, pulling up a tv tray and propping it up over your lap.

carefully, he blows on the soup through his mask (like a silly goose) and sets it down on a stone coaster. it smells slightly salty, but doesn't quite have that gentle scent like miso does. it's light, and has a couple of tiny seaweed squares soaked in the soup. chicken broth, perhaps? if you like eggs, the entire soup blankets ropes of the fluffily-stirred ingredient.

kazuha's love language is through his gestures. when he was homeless after escaping from the tenryou police for a crime he didn't commit, he developed a more profound sense for appreciating the small gestures for others. although he had no home, strangers in smaller towns or standalone homes were more than happy to house the wandering fellow for a night from the storming rain. he loved all things about nature; however, it's much more difficult to appreciate the natural world in drenched clothes. so, thanks to that, he chooses now to reciprocate even the smallest things for you. started off with you kissing him on the cheek, and eventually, he would give you one back. if you brought him food one day, he'd bring your favorite dessert the next day on his way home from work.

and lately, you've been worrying yourself sick over your co-workers and the most recent project results that you must have not paid any mind to your coughing teammate in the elevator, even after they reported their illness. and more importantly, how does kazuha even remember the cell # and extension to contact your supervisor? you complain sometimes about how much work your boss (yae miko) is giving you, whether it's about marketing and calculations, printing, writing, or even cover art.

you smile, nodding and whispering a "thank you" before sinking the spoon beneath the food's surface. you watch the edges flow in (and if you like it, the fluffy egg strands) with a seaweed square. kazuha smiles back, takes his two fingers and presses them over his lips—kissing them before gently touching your cheek with the same digits. you giggle at the caution of his action, but also at his magnanimous gestures.

"hm? was giving you an 'indirect' kiss like that too goofy for you? if that happens to be true, I shall depart for just a moment to go grab you a small bowl of rice and the little mini-projector so we can watch some anime together, is there anything else you want?"

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⚗️ albedo [hemicrania] (migraine)

"hello, uh, it's me, pumpkin—" he mutters, quietly creaking the door open.

you whimper loudly at the blinding light that meets you, even when your eyes are shut tightly trying to try and rid of this stupid migraine that pounds at your head. this is your first time getting one in years—so why does it come to bite you in the ass on your only free day?

"i had no knowledge of what would be better for you... so, logically, i brought a couple of medicinal pills, along with an ice pack—which one would you like?"

"both," you curtly reply, wanting to cry from the pain. but actively draining your body of any water—especially from your eyeholes—would merely obliterate whatever sanity and pain tolerance you currently have left.

you hear his boots quietly across the floor, knowing that he's getting closer just from hearing the rustling of his soles up against the rug beside your side of the bed. although you can tell that he's right next to you, he places the back of his palm on your head, lifting and setting something glass on your bedside cabinet.

he hums observantly. quietly, he mumbles: "how much does it hurt?"

where do you even start? you can't even think, but if you were able to put it into words—it's like having awful tv static assaulting your eyeballs while you're getting slapped across the face repeatedly. why does your brain have to be "asleep," and not... like... your leg, or something?

"too much to even give a response, huh?" he asks, sighing sadly as he gets on his knees to kiss you on the forehead, before gently retracting back. "that's quite alright, then."

desensitized to other sensory effects, he whispers gently in your ear.

"let me know when you wish to take your medicine," he remarks, removing his hand as he puts the soft and icy jello-consistency receptacle atop your head. "squeeze or tap my hand, and I will be more than happy to help you take it, if needed."

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🧹 thoma ft. the kamisatos [syncope] (passing out/fainting) {dedicated to @mako-yaki}

"hey, uh, babe? you look like you're drifting in and out of sleep every other few seconds... do you want to take a break real quick?"

being a port worker is hard.

seriously, like, it's fall coming onto winter—and everyone's dressed too warmly. how is everyone gone? seven team members, and you are the only one left for commission. thoma and you are the only ones around. but... good thing you're with your boyfriend. you wouldn't have minded being alone, but knowing yourself—you would simply just be complaining the entire time. although he's on official business to check the quality of the newest shipment for Inazuma's winter festival has been shipped, you still smile despite your fatigue. you feel like falling, but your head feels lighter than air. why does the sky look brighter, but your hands look darker... whatever, you just need to hold out for another hour, and then you can take your off-days to sleep.

"uhm... earth to (y/n), are you feeling okay?—" he'd ask, before watching you drop your clipboard and collapse in the middle of the dock.

-//-

opportunely and untimely at the same time, it seems as though ayato and ayaka were coming in together from their separate businesses from different locations. as they spotted thoma, ayato spotted your swaying figure and how you kept shaking your head vigorously over and over (it was mostly to wake yourself up, but it seemed to prove otherwise).

ayato cocks an eyebrow in confusion.

"what are (y/n) and thoma talking about? is it about our request for mister zhenyu and calx's presence at the upcoming festival?"

ayato shakes his head, crossing his arms as his pure-refrigerator white coattails flap in the gentle sea breeze. "no, i asked thoma to check on the newest shipment of butter crab for tomorrow's feast. from the last time i heard, i put him in such a tight 'pickle' that not only could he buy any crab anywhere, but he also went hunting for the crab himself."

ayaka laughs as she folds her fan in, her eyelids closing as her lashes flutter, and her complexion flushes a very light pink.

"oh, you know him brother—as he says..." ayaka says, raising her hand and pretending to gesture a strong arm. "'if there's a will, there's a way!'"

"yes, he is quite the... character..." ayato remarks, keeping his eyes on your body, which sways ever so slightly. "ayaka, why does (y/n) look like they're about to fall over—" he inquires just a second too late as ayaka.

"babe!" thoma ignores your clipboard, but catches you on your descent down to the splintery wooden bolsters of planks, cushioning your fall carefully as he quickly hoists you into his arms.

ayaka stops in her tracks, while ayato comes running over, swiftly picking up the clipboard. he scans over it in a flash—questioning why all your team members have called out for the past week. ayato, flashing thoma a swift glance, checks your vitals without taking a second to interrogate or ask any questions. your heartbeat seems normal, but taking your palm in his hand, he feels a bead of your sweat trickle down his pointer finger. waiting about ten seconds, ayato huffs a breath and sighs a bit of relief.

"get them to the international trade association's guest room immediately. I'll be off to have a word with the harbormaster right now," he orders, nodding in unison with thoma, who resupports your weight while picking up his pace. as they run, thoma looks to ayaka. "milady, could you run ahead and let kurisu know that we're coming? prepare a couple of towels and fetch some extra pillows too."

"right!" ayaka says, speeding off in the direction of the trade association, while ayato speedwalks towards the ritou goods warehouse.

thoma, heart racing, and adrenaline rushing through his veins like the incoming afternoon tide, mutters through hasty breaths: "you'll be okay soon, (y/n)..."

[ ... ]

"hey..." you hear in your quivering consciousness from what seems to be a worried lady. everything's black... you probably should have paid more attention to your condition.

"shhh, don't be so loud... don't... them to wake..." you also hear, a familiar deep timbre resonating in a mixed quiet reminding whisper.

you groan, letting your eyes flicker shut and open for a couple of seconds, absorbing the time to blink. everything's so bright... and everything feels so soft... dazed, you note the light blue blob darker blue-headed blob dressed in white... pink, and bluer splotches painted among a brown and tatami-green backdrop, alongside a red, black, and white blob with what looks like low-resolution blurry hayneedles for hair.

"hello, (y/n)? how are you feeling?" you hear a female's voice pipe up. she shudders in the tone of her voice as she carefully holds your left hand in a soft towel.

"... who is that?"

"that's ayaka, babe. i'm thoma, and her older brother—ayato—is also here."

"... sorry, yeah... i knew that. i'm just... dizzy..."

ayato props a hand behind your back, and you realize that your feet and head are slightly higher than your torso. helping you up with careful deliberation, he smiles as he holds out a glass of water. "drink a little bit of water if you're going to keep talking."

carefully tilting the glass, you part your lips to slowly take in at least half the glass. hot meeting cold feels like heaven settling within your body.

"don't be sorry about something like this, we all care a lot for you! we're going to stay here until you are in a better condition to return home."

"i got your supervisor to suspend your activities for the next two weeks. hehe, they too will be suspended from their duties for the next two weeks."

"(y/n), we all want the best for you, so just let us know if you need anything," ayaka remarks, smiling as she watches thoma caressing your cheek to her right.

"please don't overwork yourself like this until you break. if you don't tell me next time, you'll break my heart."

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godlizzza · 6 months

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ive thought about writing a griddlehark fic where gideon is a courier in a big ol futuristic metropolis ala Blade Runner, and shes hired by harrow to deliver her and this package to a rendezvous point on the other side of the city. of course, shenanigans ensue.

#still a lil shaky on what this package is and what its for but o well #some questions dont need answers #griddlehark #musings #tlt #the locked tomb

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kourtniwritesagain · 9 months

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Say it with Me Now...Sleep!

A/N: I wrote a similar story years ago, but I seriously can’t find it ANYWHERE. This is my attempt at not exactly rewriting it but doing something equally as fun. So, enjoy sleep-deprived Timmy Drake-Wayne.

Listen, Tim is well aware that he is not exactly the most forthcoming when it comes to information about his general well-being. He knows that he's technically lying. However, everyone lies, right? Like, Dick lies about having free time so he can help whoever needs it when his shoulders can't possibly hold any more weight. Jason lies about hating everyone when he loves the hardest. Damian lies about never caring about feelings when he feels the most. Duke lies about not feeling like an outsider even though everyone knows he still hasn't accepted his position in the family. Cass lies about… okay, well, Cass doesn't lie. But Bruce! Bruce lies about freaking everything. So…Tim lying about sicknesses, injuries, and sleep isn't like…out of the ordinary in Tim's family. So he doesn't really feel bad about lying to Alfred about getting a full night's sleep the previous night.

Well, he doesn't feel too bad.

Tim had, at one point in his life, gotten a full night's sleep. It just wasn't last night. Or the night before that…and so on and so forth. Now that Tim was thinking about it, he'd been up for a full three days. Not his longest record, but the longest in at least six months. Tim is currently working on three cases for Batman Inc., multiple marketing packages for Wayne Enterprises, and two school reports. The cases are what's taking most of his time.

The first case has to do with Scarecrow. Tim believes Crane is working with a new supplier, someone outside of Gotham. He hasn't been able to find out who it is, but he's at least narrowed it down to either Star City or Metropolis. The second case concerns Ivy, which really sucks because she's been relatively quiet ever since she and Harley got together. Honestly, Tim isn't really sure it is Ivy, but it's got to do with these weird plants popping up around the city that shoot some kind of ichor at anyone who gets near. It wouldn't be that big of a deal if it weren't for the fact that the ichor causes blindness for up to two weeks. Tim's been working on a cure, but so far, he hasn't had much luck. Hence, he really needs to talk to Ivy. The third case deals with Victor Zsasz…or, at least, Tim thinks it does. There's been a string of near murders of sex workers in Crime Alley. Jason has been working on it for two weeks, but he's never caught anyone in the action. Jason came to Tim four nights ago to ask for help, which is very usual for Jason. Usually, he sends files and assumes Tim will help. Jason's case is Tim's number one priority. Zsasz is toying with people at the moment. It's only a matter of time before it turns into actual murder.

So, that is why he's currently working on his third night of no sleep. The importance of these cases, Jason's in particular, is also why Tim just lied (again) to Alfred and Bruce about his overall well-being. Again, Tim's not stupid. He knows Alfred and Bruce can see the bags under his eyes, the slump in his shoulders, and the copious amounts of empty energy drink cans and coffee mugs that littered his room. They didn't call him out on it, so they must believe it's not as bad as it really is. Alfred and Bruce leave the Cave, and Tim continues his work on the Batcomputer.

"Hey, any news on my case?"

Tim looks up and sees Jason sauntering in, his hood under his arm.

"Not much. I have some hunches," says Tim. "But nothing concrete yet."

Jason sighs.

"I'm trying, Jay." Tim mutters, feeling guilty.

Jason rolls his eyes. "I'm not mad at you, Timberly. The sigh is in general of the fucking suckiness of the situation, not directed at you."

"Still…I can't seem to crack this the way I want."

"Welcome to my world. Why do you think I asked for your help? You look like shit by the way."

Tim flips him off and then yawns, large and long.

"The fuck was that?" Jason asks.

Tim rolls his eyes. "A yawn, Jason. Surely you've experienced one."

Jason walks to Tim and smacks the back of his head. "Ass."

"You're the ass…ass." Tim replies.

"Now I know you're outta sorts. That was the lamest comeback." Jason says. "When's the last time you slept?"

"Yesterday." Tim lies.

Jason squints at him. "Yeah…and Alfred is the Queen of England."

"I'm fine."

Jason snorts and places his hand on Tim's forehead.

"I don't have a fever, Jason." says Tim, swatting at Jason's hands. Jason reaches down and tweaks Tim's left side. Tim immediately folds inward with a laugh.

"Too easy." Jason smirks as he continues scribbling his fingers along Tim's ribs and sides.

"Screw youhu!" Tim laughs, trying to catch Jason's hands as he squirms in the seat.

"I dunno, this seems like a good way to tire you out."

"Plehehease!" Tim is defenseless when it comes to tickling. It's like his brain decides to stop working, and all he can do is curl up and beg for mercy.

Jason spends a few more seconds poking and prodding along Tim's ribcage before he finally ceases his attack.

"I swear, you're the most ticklish person on the fuckin' planet." Jason is grinning smugly.

Tim knows he's got a goofy grin on his face, but he musters up a scowl regardless. "And I swear you're the biggest prick on the planet."

"Go to sleep, Tim. I know you're on at least day two of no sleep."

"As soon as I get some solid info on your case and finish my crap from WE, I will."

Jason squints at him. Tim thinks for a moment that his older brother is going to argue with him more. However, Jason shrugs his shoulders, waves a dismissive hand toward Tim, and then walks out of the Cave. Tim sighs in relief and turns back to the computer. He knows he's close to proving it's Zsasz behind the attacks. He'll definitely sleep once he proves it.

^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^

Tim proves it's Zsasz, but he does not sleep. There's no time. Bruce will be the one to help Jason with the takedown of Zsasz because he's a Tier-One Villain, and Batman isn't going to allow Red Hood to do it on his own nor allow Red Robin to be Hood's only backup. Tim put up a fight, arguing that he could at least help, especially considering it was Tim that figured it all out. He’s overruled by a simple ‘Hn’ from Bruce and a smirk from Jason. Tim spends the next day tracking down Ivy. Turns out, she was working the case as well. Tim corners her at a greenhouse in downtown Gotham.

"Of course, you're the one working this." Pamela says without taking her eyes off the plant, she's currently cultivating.

"Should I be offended by that statement?" Tim asks. Tim thinks that, although he's had a direct hand in a few of her arrests, they've at least worked together a few times in the past year to develop a good rapport.

Pam turns to look at him and rolls her eyes. "No. I was just hoping that perhaps the Bat would be here instead."

"He's finishing up with that Zsasz situation." Tim tells her. "So, you're stuck with me."

"Any leads?" She asks.

That's confirmation for Tim that Ivy isn't behind the plants.

"None." Tim replies.

Ivy hums in response.

"It's not any plant I've seen. I don't think it's even from Earth."

"Fan-freaking-tastic…" Tim sighs. This is just what he needs, a freaking alien plant. "Should probably get the Justice League on this if you think it's extraterrestrial."

Ivy doesn't look convinced. "Must we?"

"I think it's best, Dr. Isley. They're better equipped to find its origin and an antidote. I've been trying to make one myself, but it hasn't been as effective as I want."

Ivy sighs. "Fine. Can I ask you to keep me posted on how this shakes up? I've had a few too many dirty looks in my direction."

Tim nods. "Of course."

"Thanks, Little Bird."

Tom rolls his eyes. "I'm 17 now, you know."

Pam smiles at him with a bit of fondness in her eyes and walks away. "Yes, but you'll always be a Little Bird to me."

"Dr. Isley!" Tim calls. Pam halts and turns to look at him. "Don't let anyone look down on you, okay? Gothamites don't have the moral high ground most of the time."

Ivy simply smiles softly at him and leaves.

"Time to get a sample to JL." Tim mutters to himself as he harvests a few of the plants.

^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^

It's day six of less than four hours of sleep total, and it's actually starting to bother Tim. He's still so busy, though. The Justice League is taking care of the plant situation, Zsasz is in Arkham (with Jason nursing three broken ribs and a sprained wrist), and two of the three WE marketing packages are complete. However, not a single one of Tim's assignments is done, and Tim has two more cases to add to his workload. He's slumping over the desk in Bruce's office. He was kicked out of the Cave about an hour ago by Bruce, who apparently needed to have a meeting with Superman and Flash. Tim hopes it's about the plants, but he's unable to spy as he really needs to finish his schoolwork so he can start writing the reports from his previous cases. He's still trying to find the supplier for Cane, too. He’s minutes away from a full-blown migraine and typing mindlessly on the computer when he hears a knock on the door.

"Tim? You in there?" Dick's voice comes from the other side of the door.

Tim grunts in response.

Dick opens the door. "What're you doing in Bruce's office?"

"M'workin'." Tim winces at how slurred his speech is.

"On what?" Dick asks; he's behind Tim now, leaning over him and staring at the computer Tim's working on.

"School crap, some WE stuff, and a case or two."

"How’s it going?"

Tim shrugs.

"So, I’ve heard from a few birds you’re not sleeping much."

Tim lets his head fall to the desk as he groans. "Tell Jason to mind his own business."

Tim can hear the soft smile on Dick’s face. "It wasn’t just Jason."

Tim looks up at his older brother. "M’fine. I’ve gotten a few hours here and there."

Dick smiles that sad smile of his, which makes Tim feel like absolute shit.

"I’m fine Dick; I promise."

"I wish I could believe you," says Dick. "But you’ve got the worst truth-telling record in this family."

"What?! No way! Bruce holds that title, c’mon!" Tim practically shouts.

Dick seems to consider what Tim says. "Okay, second worst."

Tim scowls at him.

"Grayson, I--oh." Damian is suddenly in the room, scowling at Tim immediately. "Drake, you look terrible."

"No one asked for your opinion, Demon Brat." Tim responds, barely stopping himself from sticking his tongue out.

"Tt. Drake, this isn’t an insult. I do truly mean that you look terrible. When was the last time you slept? Also, are you ill?"

"You’re sick?" Dick’s voice is even more full of concern now.

"I’m not sick! I’m just a little tired." Tim sighs, rubbing his temples. The headache he’s been trying to stave off the last three days is significantly closer than just a few minutes ago.

"Headache, too?" Dick asks kindly.

"Yes, because you and the Baby Assassin are bothering me." Tim mumbles. There’s no real heat behind it.

"I loathe that name." Damian says.

Dick ruffles his hair, garnering a squawk from Damian. "It’s a term of endearment Dee. It means Timmy loves you."

Both Tim and Damian snort at the same time.

"Can I please finish my work?" Tim asks tiredly. He can feel a full-blown migraine coming on, and he thinks that he may be overdoing it somewhat.

"Uh…Tim? You’re not exactly making sense with your…work." Dick winces as he shows Tim the computer screen.

"Oh."

On the screen are just a bunch of letters and numbers all over the place.

Okay…maybe he really has pushed it too far.

"Will you please go to sleep?" Dick asks. He bends down in front of Tim, making himself eye level. Dick places a hand on Tim’s forehead, checking for a fever.

"I will as soon as I finish my school assignments." Tim semi-promises. Sleep doesn’t come as easy to Tim as it does to most people, especially once he’s this far gone.

Dick sighs, but stands and motions for Damian to follow him out.

"Drake…honestly." Damian sighs as he takes a look at Tim.

"Damian, I’m okay."

"Tt."

The door closes and Tim grabs another energy drink from the minifridge and downs it. With a shake of his aching head, Tim focuses on the work in front of him.

Three hours later, Tim’s completely engrossed on the last page of his paper for his English class when Bruce comes in. He looks surprised to see Tim.

"Oh, hey Tim. I didn’t know you were in here." Bruce says.

"You kicked me outta the Cave," Tim replies. "And I wanted to use your two monitors. I can leave if you need me to." Tim is rising as he says this, he stumbles a bit and Bruce is by his side with Tim’s elbow in his hand.

"Easy there, kiddo." Bruce soothes, helping Tim to sit back down. "I don’t mind you using my office. It’s free for you to use when you want. However, I do mind you almost falling for simply standing up. Are you injured?"

"No…I-I’m fine. Just been up a little longer than I should’ve, probably."

"He’s been up for six days." A, quite frankly, livid, voice says from the doorway. Tim’s head whips up and he sees Damian standing there, hands clenched into tight fists, and one of the angriest expressions Tim has ever seen gracing his face. Dick is behind him, and so is Jason, both looking angry and sad and exasperated all at the same time. Bruce looks shocked, which is saying something. He turns to look down at Tim.

"Is this true?"

Tim gulps, but isn’t able to say anything because Damian cuts across him. "Do not even attempt to lie. I looked at the security footage. You haven’t spent more than two hours at a time in any one room in this house, excluding the Cave. However, you haven’t slept there either because the Cave security footage hasn’t shown you sleeping at any point!"

"Damian…I-"

Damian raises a hand to stop Tim. "I don’t want to hear it. You may have no forethought to your health and wellbeing, but others do. And if you are going to insist on attempting to take yourself away from us earlier than what is the normal lifespan of an adult male in America, then you’re going to do so fighting me. And with the current state you’re in, it’d be an even more pathetic fight than when you’re in full form."

Jason places a hand on Damian’s shoulder, which Tim expects him to throw off. However, Damian doesn’t. In fact, it looks like it anchors their youngest sibling.

"Honestly Tim, six days? Even for you that’s excessive." Jason says.

"Bed." Bruce demands. It’s not his Batman voice. It’s not even his angry voice. It’s the voice he uses when he won’t budge. It’s the voice he uses when he’s in meetings and flexing his full CEO authority. It’s the voice he learned from Alfred. It’s the voice he uses when there’s no room for argument.

Tim tries anyway, though, because he has no sense of self-preservation. "Bruce I need to finish my homework, I--"

"You have a death wish, Timmy." Dick sighs.

"You can go to sleep on your own, or I can administer something to help. That is the only choice you’re going to receive for the next several days." Bruce states. Now he sounds (and looks) angry. Tim knows he’s pushing it…has pushed it. He does. He just…there’s so much he needs to do. And Bruce can’t seriously be trying to ground him.

"You can’t ground me, Bruce, I’m 17-"

"You can go to sleep on your own or I can administer something to help." Bruce says it quietly, but Tim hears and sees the fury simmering there.

Tim swallows again; he looks to his two older siblings and knows there will be no help. Jason looks exasperated beyond all reason. Dick looks like Tim just kicked his dog and then set his house on fire. He doesn’t have to look at Damian to know he looks exactly like Bruce.

He’s lost. He knows he’s lost.

"I…I may need some help." Tim admits quietly, feeling his face heat up extensively.

Bruce’s fury melts a bit at that. "I’ll have Alfred make the tea."

"He’s got a headache, too. Add some acetaminophen. We’ll get him to bed, Bruce." Dick says. He reaches for Tim and helps steer him out of the room and to the stairs. Jason and Damian follow.

"You don’t have to follow me; I’m seriously going to go to my room." Tim tells them.

"Tt. Your word on this matter means very little."

"Sorry, Baby Bird. I agree with Baby Bat." Jason tells Tim. "You’ve seriously crossed the line this time."

Tim hangs his head in shame.

"Not now guys." Dick retorts rather sharply. Tim doesn’t deserve Dick’s kindness.

"M’sorry." Tim tells them as they reach his room. "I didn’t mean for it to go on this long. Honestly."

Dick shushes him as he looks for some pajamas.

"No. Seriously. I didn’t…I don’t mean to…" Tim can feel the tears welling in his eyes. It’s frustrating beyond reason.

"Get dressed, and get in bed, Timmers." Dick presses a kiss to the top of his head as he and the others walk out.

Tim does as he’s told. The tears spill onto his cheeks. He knows he’s truly screwed everything up. Everyone is furious with him. He can only imagine the lecture he’s going to get from Alfred. He’s not just going to be grounded; he’s going to be benched permanently. If he can’t be trusted to sleep like a normal human being, he definitely can’t be trusted out in the field. His head starts pounding even harder, and he stumbles into his bed with his knees curled into his stomach.

"Tim?" Bruce is walking in, but Tim is trying really hard to get air into his lungs. He feels Bruce grab his shoulders and set him into a sitting position. One of Bruce’s hands grabs his and places it on the older man’s chest, right over his heart. The other hand grabs the back of Tim’s neck, resting there lightly.

"Breathe with me, kiddo."

Tim tries his hardest to focus on the beating of Bruce’s heart, of the movement of his chest rising and falling. Bruce squeezes his hand very exhale, trying to anchor him, Tim assumes. It takes some time, but eventually Tim’s breathing slows and returns to normal. It has been almost a year since Tim last had a panic attack. He forgot how much they suck.

"Whatever you’re thinking," says Bruce. "I promise isn’t true. No one is going to kick you out, no one is going to fire you, and no one hates you or is mad at you."

"Damian is both of those last things. And you’re all mad. I get it." Tim replies.

Bruce hands him the steaming mug of drugged tea. If Tim knows Alfred as well as he thinks he does, there’s definitely a high dose of sleeping aid in the tea. Tim sips it at first, but downs it quickly, feeling it burn his throat.

"Slow down there, Tim." Bruce chastises. "You don’t need to punish yourself."

"I just wanna go to bed." Tim tells his adopted father. Bruce looks at him with those sad eyes of his, making Tim feel a million times worse, which is really saying something because he feels like dog shit.

"Sweetheart, c’mere." Bruce climbs into the bed and lifts up his arm, offering Tim to snuggle in, which the boy does. "We’re mad, yes. We’re mad that you seem to be unable to take care of yourself properly. We’re mad that you always push yourself too far. We’re mad that we don’t catch it quick enough to help. But we’re not mad at you in the sense that is going through your head. We all love you."

Tim wants to believe it.

"Not even Damian doesn’t hate you."

Tim snorts.

"He doesn’t." Bruce insists, digging his fingers into Tim’s ribs. Tim gasps and laughs as Bruce doesn’t let up.

"Stahap!" Tim begs. Tim is seriously ticklish on his ribs; it’s one of his worst spots, and Bruce knows it.

Bruce chuckles fondly as he brings both hands to Tim’s ribcage. Tim is letting out some serious giggles now. He’s trying to fight against Bruce, but the tea is setting in, and Tim’s not the most coordinated person when tickled.

"Promise to sleep and not stay up for six days straight ever again?" Bruce asks, not ceasing his tickle attack. He digs his fingers in between the bones of Tim’s ribs.

"Yehehes! I-I prohohomise!" Tim gets out, squirming madly. It tickles so damn much!

Bruce finally stops tickling. Tim sags into Bruce’s side while he rubs his ribs to get rid of the residual tickly feelings.

"You’re too good at that." Tim tells him.

Bruce kisses the top of his head. "You’re too easy. I think you may be more ticklish than Damian."

Now that was interesting information.

"Damian is ticklish?!"

Bruce winces. "I don’t think I was supposed to mention that."

"Oh th-thaaaat--" Tim cuts himself off with a loud yawn.

"Bed." Bruce says, pressing another kiss against the top of Tim’s head. "No worrying either, we can talk tomorrow about better ways to keep yourself healthy."

"G’night, dad." Tim whispers, already falling asleep.

"Good night, son."

^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^

When Tim wakes up, he’s dazed and confused. The sun is gone and his clock tells him it’s nine at night.

"It’s been 18 hours, Drake."

Tim whips his head and sees Damian sketching in the armchair next to his bed.

"What?"

"You slept for 18 hours," Damian repeats, sounding thoroughly annoyed. "Pennyworth has a plate of dinner waiting for you when you are ready to eat."

Tim scrubs a hand down his face. "Eighteen hours, huh?"

"With the amount of stress you put on your body, I am shocked you didn’t sleep longer."

"Yeah…wasn’t my best plan I guess."

"Tt. Consider it your worst. That is saying something, too, as you usually have terrible plans." There’s no real heat behind Damian’s words. The two of them have grown a lot since Damian first came. They respect one another now. They work pretty well together, too. Their form of communication may look especially harsh to an outsider, but to them, it’s brotherly banter.

Tim rolls his eyes. "Pretty sure I was the one who took down Zsasz earlier this week."

Damian looks at him. "Father and Todd took him down."

"Physically, maybe. But it was me who found out everything. So, if you think about it, it was all of my plans that took him down."

"Tt. In your dreams, Drake."

Tim moves to sit on the side of his bed. "Hey."

Damian looks at him once more. "What?"

"I’m sorry for scaring you," Tim apologizes. "I didn’t mean to."

Damian replies stiffly, "I was not scared. I was mad at your stupidity."

"I’m sorry for making you mad, then."

Damian scowls deeply at him. "Do you realize the stress you put on others when you pull these types of stunts? We have enough stress without others adding to it with idiotic decisions. You need to better care for yourself. You aren’t a machine, Drake, and you’re not alone. There are others in this family that could’ve taken a case or two. Furthermore, you hate school, so I do not understand your need to finish assignments you don’t care about."

Tim feels really bad.

"I didn’t do it on purpose, if that helps." Tim tells his little brother. "I get…focused, I guess. I know you guys can help me, I just…I dunno. I feel like I can do it better, I suppose. That’s really narcissistic of me, I know."

Damian only scowls further. "You aren’t a narcissist; you’re an idiot. There’s a difference."

"How many more times are you going to call me an idiot?" Tim asks, a wry smile on his face.

"As many times as it takes." Damian smirks.

Tim rolls his eyes this time. He stands and squats in front of the chair so he’s eye level with Damian. "I won’t do it again."

"Tt."

Tim places a hand on Damian’s shoulder. "I promise, Damian."

Damian looks at Tim now. "You…you are important to this family."

"Does that include you?" Tim teases.

Damian shoves Tim’s hand off his shoulders. "Ugh. I’m finished with this sappy moment. I’m leaving."

Domain tries to stand to leave, but Tim is feeling much better after his sleep, and he’s in a mischievous mood, so he grabs Damian around the waist and pulls him into a hug.

"Drake! Unhand me!"

"We have to hug, Demon," says Tim. "Dickie will be upset if we don’t."

Damian is squirming furiously as he attempts to free himself from Tim’s grip. "Grayson isn’t even here!"

"He could walk in any minute, though. I wanna make sure we do him proud!" Tim squeezes tighter, causing Damian to yelp. It reminds Tim of what Bruce told him before he fell asleep.

Tim smiles deviously. "I heard some interesting information about you from Bruce." Tim places his hands on Damian’s sides with his fingers curled in, an evil grin growing as he feels Damian instantly still.

"Drake…" It’s a warning, but Tim isn’t concerned.

"Damian."

"Whatever Father told you, h-he was clearly lying!" Damian still doesn’t move, and Tim knows it’s because every movement would tickle with the way Tim’s hands are positioned.

"Bruce lies at times," Tim concedes. "But I don’t think he was lying about this. Tell me, Dee, are you ticklish?"

Damian’s eyes go wide. "N-No! Of c-course not!"

"Bruce said you were."

"He lied!"

Tim shrugs his shoulders, pretending to give up. However, the moment Damian relaxes, Tim tosses the smaller boy on the bed and pounces, immediately tickling Damian’s stomach.

"DRAKE!" Damian absolutely screeches. Tim knows he’s going to die after this, but he’s okay with it. Damian succumbs to laughter rather quickly. He has such a cute laugh, sounding and looking like the 12-year-old he is.

"Bruce was right!" Tim crows. He scrabbles all 10 of his fingers all around Damian’s belly. The closer he gets to Damian’s sides and ribs, the louder his laughter gets, and the more he squirms. Damian seems to be like Tim, though, and super uncoordinated when tickled because Tim is still alive and breathing. Damian is swearing like a sailor at him, but that’s about it.

"What the fuck is going on in--oh…now this is good."

Tim looks at the doorway, not pausing his tickly assault on Damian’s torso, and sees Jason with the biggest grin on his face that Tim’s ever seen.

"T-Tohohodd! I r-require assISTANCE!" Damian squeals out the last part of the word as Tim shoots his arms to Damian’s underarms.

"I think Timmy requires my assistance," Jason’s grin turns more shark-like. "How did I not know you were ticklish, Baby Bat?"

Damian doesn’t answer. He’s too busy holding his middle as best he can, laughter pouring out of his mouth. His heels are drumming against the bed, and Tim is grinning widely himself. He’s never heard Damian laugh like this before.

"Are you guys killing Damian?" Dick enters the room next. "Oh…you’re just tickling him. Try his neck next, Timmy. That’s his death spot."

"GRAYHAYSON!" Damian shrieks as Tim lightly pinches at the back of Damian’s neck. Damian’s laughter goes high pitched. "T-TIM, pleheHEASE!"

It went on for two more minutes before Dick rescues Damian by telling Tim to stop. Tim moves off Damian and grins down at the panting boy. "You called me by my name."

Damian pants for another few seconds, a silly grin on his face. It doesn’t last long, though, because he soon scowls fiercer than Tim’s ever seen and then jumps at Tim. Dick catches him around the middle and holds Damian away from Tim.

"Let me go, Grayson! I will have my revenge!"

"Sorry Dames, but Tim needs to eat. He needs to sleep after that, again--don’t look at me like that, Tim--and you need to get ready for patrol."

Damian flips Tim off but stops struggling against Dick’s hold. Dick sets him down and grins. "Everyone’s ticklish, Damian. If you can imagine it, Tim’s probably more ticklish than you."

"Dick!" Tim throws his oldest brother a betrayed look.

"Oh definitely. The kid’s ribs are like a 10 on the Richter scale," Jason adds. "One poke to his ribs has him swearing his first born to you. He’s deathly ticklish on his ribs."

"Jason!" Tim throws the same betrayed look to his immediate older brother.

"Sorry, little brother. It’s true." Dick laughs.

Tim looks at Damian and gulps. Damian looks smug. No, he looks worse than smug. He looks like he’s plotting.

"Damian…I-I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again!" Tim has his hands up.

"Oh, I know it won’t. I’ll ensure the lesson you learn will keep you from making that mistake ever again."

"Oh! Are we going to tickle Tim next?" Dick asks. "It’s been a while!"

"You asshats are gonna leave me alone!" Tim warns. "Remember, I have lots of pictures that I can release on the internet at a moment’s notice."

"He’s bluffing." Jason snorts. "He won’t post them on the internet, Bruce would kill him."

Damian’s smirk grows.

"I’m totally in on this plan, though," Jason continues. "Tickling Tim till he forgets his own damn name sounds like fun."

Tim feels his stomach flip flop with excitement and trepidation. He’s never been teamed up against like that and has no clue what it’ll feel like, but he has a feeling he’s about to find out.

"What about you, Grayon? Will you join in my revenge?" Damian asks.

Tim sends a pleading look to Dick.

"Well…he really needs to eat." Dick says. Tim sighs in relief. "But I suppose he can wait another half hour or so."

"Half hour?! The fu-NO! Nohoho!"

Tim doesn’t do much more than laugh for quite some time.

#kourtni writes things #tim drake #ticklish!tim #jason todd #damian wayne #dick grayson #ticklish!damian #batman #batfam #batman fic #batfamily fic #tickling

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sanarcare123 · 7 months

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https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vRmjlvB80HUCfxhm_sXCtQKckV7-emZfZyPnVXQ8Giozdo606zEZk-XaYt27Rsbfd5Kn3-PfLCDV0rK/pub

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zapreportsblog · 10 months

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Wish Upon A Star

➥ summary: (y/n) is just a overworked young adult who’s only real passion in life is living her best life for the man in the posters above her bed, Miguel O’Hara

➥ a/n: this was created and inspired by this post by @jayden-killer

The city sprawled beneath the night sky, its neon lights casting a vibrant glow that clashed with the darkness above. Among the countless inhabitants of this metropolis, a young adult named (Y/N) stood on her apartment balcony, her weary eyes tracing the familiar landscape. She was overworked, exhausted, but deep inside, she couldn't care less. Each day, the promise of returning home to her "husband" was enough to keep her going.

(Y/N) had always been a dreamer. In a world where connections were formed through screens and virtual spaces, she had found solace in a poster hanging on her bedroom wall. It depicted Miguel O'Hara, the iconic hero of her favorite comic series, Spider-Man 2099. With his sleek black and white costume and mysterious allure, Miguel had become her escape from the monotony of everyday life.

As she closed the front door behind her, (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief. Another day at the office was over, and the weight of responsibility gradually lifted from her shoulders. Her footsteps echoed through the quiet apartment as she made her way to the bedroom, anticipation bubbling within her.

Finally, she stood before the poster, illuminated by the soft glow of a bedside lamp. The image of Miguel O'Hara stared back at her, his confident smirk captivating her heart. The room was transformed into a sanctuary, a haven of fiction where reality momentarily faded away.

(Y/N) cherished these moments, basking in the imagined warmth of her "husband's" presence. She whispered secrets and dreams to the poster, seeking solace and understanding from an imaginary companion. Although she knew Miguel wasn't real, his portrayal in the comic series had resonated deeply with her, offering a sliver of hope amidst the mundane.

One fateful evening, as (Y/N) prepared for bed, a glimmer caught her eye through the window. A falling star streaked across the heavens, painting a trail of ethereal beauty across the night. Without hesitation, she found herself making the same wish countless others had before her, the words slipping from her lips with an intensity born of longing.

"Miguel O'Hara, please be real."

She watched the celestial display until the star disappeared into the horizon, its journey seemingly complete. Yet, little did (Y/N) know that her heartfelt wish had sparked a chain of events that would forever alter her life.

The following day began like any other, with (Y/N) immersing herself in the familiar routine of her professional life. As the hours slipped by, her mind occasionally drifted to the memory of the falling star and her wish. But as time went on, the magic of the moment waned, and doubts crept into her consciousness.

Weeks turned into months, and the memory of that night began to fade, buried under the burdens of reality. Yet, unbeknownst to (Y/N), forces were at work beyond her comprehension.

One evening, upon returning home, (Y/N) noticed an unusual package resting on her doorstep. Curiosity tinged with apprehension coursed through her veins as she picked it up. The box was unremarkable, devoid of any distinctive markings or labels. With trembling hands, she tore away the packaging, revealing its contents.

Her breath hitched as she stared at what lay before her—an advanced piece of technology, a device unlike anything she had ever seen. A note accompanied it, bearing a simple message:

"To (Y/N), from an admirer. Enjoy."

An enigmatic smile played upon (Y/N)'s lips as she held the device, her heart pounding with anticipation. It was an augmented reality visor, capable of projecting immersive holographic experiences. A gift that held the promise of transcending the boundaries between fantasy and reality.

Without hesitation, (Y/N) placed the visor upon her head, feeling a gentle hum as the world around her blurred into a realm of endless possibilities. A menu materialized before her eyes, showcasing various experiences to choose from.

And then, there it was—a simulation titled "Miguel O'Hara: Enter the 2099." Her heart skipped a beat as she selected the program, eager to explore a world where her beloved hero truly existed.

As the visor's holographic projections enveloped her, (Y/N) felt a surreal sense of belonging. She found herself standing in the futuristic streets of Nueva York, the cityscape stretching out before her. The sights and sounds were indistinguishable from reality, a testament to the technology's incredible capabilities.

And then, from the shadows, emerged Miguel O'Hara, the hero she had longed to meet. His presence was tangible, his voice resonating through her very being. For a moment, disbelief mingled with joy as she beheld the face of her cherished companion, finally real and standing before her.

But was this just a dream? A creation of her imagination brought to life by advanced technology? As (Y/N) engaged in conversation with Miguel, her doubts began to dissolve. There was a depth to his character, an authenticity that defied explanation. It felt as though fate itself had conspired to grant her wish.

Days turned into nights, and (Y/N) found herself spending more and more time in the augmented reality, forging a bond with the hero she had always yearned for. Together, they explored the futuristic world, fought against villains, and shared intimate moments of vulnerability.

Yet, as time went on, (Y/N) couldn't help but question the nature of their connection. Was her relationship with Miguel genuine, or was it merely an illusion, a projection of her deepest desires? In the midst of her internal struggle, she realized that the line between reality and fantasy had blurred beyond recognition.

Little did she know that this convergence of worlds was only the beginning of a journey that would test the limits of her beliefs, reshape her understanding of existence, and challenge the very fabric of her reality.

•••

In the immersive realm of the augmented reality visor, (Y/N) found herself standing amidst the bustling streets of Nueva York 2099. Buildings towered above her, their futuristic architecture reaching for the sky, while hovercars zipped through the air with a gentle hum. The air crackled with energy, creating an atmosphere of excitement and anticipation.

As (Y/N) navigated through the bustling crowds, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Miguel O'Hara approaching. Dressed in his iconic black and white costume, he exuded a mix of confidence and humility. His eyes held a glimmer of curiosity and intrigue as he met her gaze, his voice laced with warmth.

"Welcome to the future, (Y/N). It's a pleasure to have you here," Miguel greeted her, his voice resonating through the air.

(Y/N) couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement mingled with disbelief. This wasn't a mere simulation; it was an encounter with the embodiment of her dreams. She took a moment to collect herself, her voice trembling slightly as she responded, "Thank you, Miguel. It's an honor to meet you in person, well, sort of."

A knowing smile danced upon Miguel's lips as he extended his arm in a welcoming gesture. "Come, let's take a stroll through the city. There's so much I want to show you."

As they walked side by side, Miguel guided (Y/N) through the vibrant streets, sharing stories of his adventures and offering glimpses into the intricacies of life in the future. (Y/N) was captivated by his tales, her eyes wide with wonder as she absorbed every detail.

They paused near a holographic display showcasing the latest innovations in technology, Miguel pointing out various advancements and their impact on society. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, as though they had known each other for years. The barrier between fiction and reality blurred, replaced by a profound connection.

(M/Y) couldn't help but express her amazement. "Miguel, everything here is incredible. It's like stepping into a dream come true."

Miguel chuckled softly, his eyes filled with warmth. "That's the beauty of the future, (Y/N). It's filled with infinite possibilities, limited only by our imagination and determination."

As they continued their leisurely walk, (Y/N) couldn't help but ask the burning question that had lingered in her mind since the day she made her wish. "Miguel, I have to know. How is it that you're here, in this augmented reality? Are you really real?"

Miguel's expression softened, a flicker of contemplation crossing his face. "Reality is a complex concept, (Y/N). What you perceive as real depends on your perspective. In this realm, I am as real as you want me to be. My essence, my personality, it exists here, within this experience. Whether that translates to the physical world, well... that's a question we both grapple with."

(Y/N) absorbed his words, her mind swirling with a mix of fascination and uncertainty. She couldn't deny the profound connection she felt, but the lingering doubt about the true nature of their relationship troubled her.

"Miguel, do you think it's possible for dreams to become reality?" she asked, her voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

Miguel's eyes held a gentle understanding as he replied, "Dreams possess immense power, (Y/N). They fuel our aspirations, guide our actions, and shape our perception of the world. Whether they can manifest in the physical realm is a question that defies simple answers. Sometimes, dreams inspire us to push the boundaries of what's possible, while at other times, they serve as reminders of our desires and unfulfilled wishes. What matters most is how we embrace and pursue those dreams, allowing them to shape our lives in meaningful ways."

His words resonated deeply with (Y/N), stirring a sense of purpose within her. She realized that the encounter with Miguel, be it in this augmented reality or a creation of her imagination, had ignited a flame of inspiration and hope within her soul.

As the sun began to set on Nueva York 2099, casting a golden glow across the city, (Y/N) and Miguel found themselves standing on a rooftop, gazing out at the sprawling metropolis below. The hum of the city below mingled with their conversation, creating a symphony of sights and sounds.

Miguel turned to (Y/N) and spoke softly, his voice carrying a profound wisdom. "Remember, (Y/N), the power of your wishes and dreams lies within you. They are the sparks that ignite the fire of change and possibility. Embrace them, nurture them, and never be afraid to pursue the path they illuminate."

As the two continued to talk, their conversation meandering through a myriad of topics, (Y/N) realized that this encounter was more than a mere figment of her imagination. Whether Miguel existed in the physical world or not, the impact he had on her life and the inspiration she drew from their interactions were undeniably real.

As the night sky enveloped the city in darkness, (Y/N) and Miguel shared one last conversation before bidding each other farewell, their connection lingering in the air like an echo of their shared moments.

Walking away from the augmented reality visor, (Y/N) carried with her a renewed sense of purpose. Miguel O'Hara, whether a projection of her imagination or a manifestation of her deepest desires, had become more than just a dream. He had become a catalyst for her own growth and the pursuit of her dreams, a reminder that sometimes, the lines between fiction and reality blur in the most extraordinary ways.

And so, as (Y/N) ventured back into the world outside her apartment, she carried the memories of their conversations and the lessons learned. The journey had only just begun, and the path ahead, while uncertain, promised infinite possibilities.

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the-trinket-witch · 2 years

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Steampunk AU, Anybody?

(OCs Welcome!) Collab'd with @simpingseafood

1890s Twisted Wonderland. The City of Nightraven is a burgeoning metropolis. On the cusp of a new century, technology has gone hand in hand with the innate magic first perfected by The Great Seven.

Every city has a head, Nightraven having one Dire Crowley as their mayor. Alongside him is his parliamentary council, of which Riddle Rosehearts-son of Dr. Carrol Rosehearts-is well on his way to becoming head of said council.

A military base is housed along the outskirts of the city, within residing a fresh Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade. Their Captain, Cater Diamond, actually lives off-base with a renowned baker Trey Clover.

Because of Nightraven's location and size as a hub of trade, ambassadors from across the land come to observe and partake in the local culture from the local embassy. Second-born son of the Royal Kingscholars, Leona begrudgingly fulfills the role of ambassador of the Sunset Savannah. In the wings are his steward Ruggie Bucchi and appointed soldier Jack Howl.

Another wing of the embassy houses the crown prince of the Scalding Sands: Kalim al-Asim. The only one beside him is his longstanding servant and assumed confidant Jamil Viper.

Nightraven also stands as a center for budding trends. Vil Schoenheit is a household name in the world of fashion. But Vil is but a packaged deal, as no photography shoot or 'motion picture' set complete without his bodyguard Rook Hunt, and protégé Epel Felmier.

Along the docks sits a bustling restaurant of coastal fare. Owned by a silver-tongued Azul Ashengrotto, and ran with associates Jade and Floyd Leech, this restaurant and its owners are more than they seem. For when the lights go out and tones are hush, more sinister business is made, if one can afford the price.

Said deals cannot always be completed without assistance. That is where the forges of Idia Shroud burn as bright as his hair. He needs but the lightest excuse to begin his feverish experiments, assisted by his 'brother' Ortho. Together they work wonders with magic and steam, just keep your eyes away from the back of the shop.

In one of the more stately homes outside the urban center houses a royal entourage from the Briar Valley. Prince Malleus has been tasked with absorbing necessary skills to bolster his future rule of his grandmother's kingdom, as well as advertise said kingdom's magical exports. At his side are the retired General Van Rouge, and knights Silver and Zigvolt.

Amidst all of this, one dreary night brought a dark carriage racing down the streets. The mechanical steed somehow had been instructed to halt at the mayor's estate. Accompanying this carriage is a human, somehow devoid of magic in a world chocked with it. Along with them: a stowaway beast, cat-like with blue flaming ears, having hitched a ride on the premise that 'it was going fast, it must have been needing to get somewhere important'.

The City is enormous. What awaits the magicless human within the streets of Nightraven? Who will they meet? How will they return home? Can they?

@loneliness-of-spring @achy-boo

#twisted wonderland #twst oc #twst #twst au #twst steampunk au #twisted wonderland au

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vodrae · 8 months

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DC Comics highschool AU where Bruce 18 and Harvey 18 are the golden twins (lovers) of the football team, but after an injury, Harvey is replaced with that nerd from smallville who's in the school's newspaper, and he's able to make Bruce cheer too !

Grrr

So Harvey's integrating the cheerleaders (and debate) team to stay close of the field and his mentor is the girl rumoured to be the great grandgirl of the last Chinese Emperor Talia Al-Ghul.

In this AU, there is an unofficial club of heavily mentally scarred gothamite kids, you know who i'm talking about, and they have been adopted by the Golden Twins (lovers), so better not mess with them.

Everybody knows Dick 17 , he has to settle down in Gotham when his parents died and social services were looking for a solution, Alfred Pennyworth took him in, he was there with Bruce that night. Captain of the gymnastic team, no enemy guy, the only one able to shine brighter than Harvey. Someone tried to mess with his girlfriend once, Kori Anders, apparently he also learnt muay thai on the road.

Jason Todd 16 , Stephanie Brown 15 , Duke Thomas 14, Harper 16 and Cullen Row 14 can't and won't deny coming from Park Row, sorry, crime alley, Duke is actually from Bristol, but you know, nuances are too complicated. They met each other in foster system and Dick too.

One day, when the orphanage was running very low on money, Jason appeared with multiple bags of food. The others thought he was joking when he said he stole the 4 wheels of the mayor's Bentley, when he, Jacob Kane, came with the police they weren't joking so much.

Long story short, they are Kane's wards now, it's was a package deal.

Jay and Duke are making the glorious hours of writing club, Jason would like theater and Duke chemical but Jacob made them pick a sport, Jason was kind of forced to go to the football defensive team, (Jake didn't digest the L against Metropolis in 86) and Duke for the running team. As fast as light.

Steph is Lois Lane's right hand for the school's newspaper, she's running their social medias with great sucess and is the head of gossip departement. Clark is the left hand for the investigation departement. She won against Jason, Harvey, Clark and others *wink wink* the biggest eater contest. She's now a subject for the quantum physics club.

Harper leads the electronics club, the school still remembers when her dog sized spider drone was unleashed. She's also in the kickboxing club.

Cullen is vibing in the theater and art club.

Kate Kane 18 can't stand all the dumbasses above but if she has a dream where you are glaring at them she will break your knees. Her father wanted her to do ballet, she's doing music and kickboxing. Bullying is her love langage.

Tim Drake 15 is a little genius coming in HS at 12, a unique feat until a certain someone from middle east came to school... He's driving Edward Nygma insane by solving all his riddles, photography and and electronic club. His parents are rich but always absent. 7 years ago, Alfred invited him for thanksgiving, never really left since.

Damian Al-Ghul 13 and Cassandra Wu-San 16 are cousins, they are not related but their family have known each other forever and Cass was there the day the demon spawned. Damian is Dusan's Al-Ghul son, who's 30 years older than his little sister Talia, the two are really too much well trained in martial field to be normal. Damian's is leading the escrima club.

Cass, despite being mute, is leading kickboxing club, noboby ever won a round against her. In the entire country. Except for her big sister Sandra Wu-San, also known in professional wrestling as Lady Shiva, who could give her a draw. Also she can't use technology to save her life.

The Wu-San are the adopted daughters of Dinah Drake (second cousin of Tim) and Ted Grant, a former world heavyweight boxing champion and a professional wrestler known as Wildcat. Together they have a bio daughter, Dinah Jr Laurel Drake-Grant.

A girl, Selina Kyle 18 claims she's not related to them but still has a permanent room in their house if she wants to come. Teddy met Jacob Kane in the army and were deployed in middle east together, he found his girls in some destroyed village in the Middle East and resigned right after.

Talia and Damian are from one of the oldest Asian family, and very old money. Some argues that was their family who created the first philosopher's stone. Their grandpa being the only person on Earth from the XIX century still alive is not helping. Ras wife's family helped the Americans in the Middle East that how he met Ted and Jacob.

Talia 18 is in the cheerleading club because of her HUUUUUUUGE crush on Bruce Wayne, best grades ever everywhere. Wants to become a vet.

Nyssa 17 Al-Ghul is in the kickboxing club and write her secret stuff just for her.

Barbara Gordon 17 is the daughter of the commissionner, someone shot her, she's paralysed. She's the captain of wheelchair basketball and in the electronics. She's a godess at armwrestling. For real she's an hydraulic press. She's really close of Dick Grayson and maybe she has adopted Steph, Cass, Harper as hers. Her own pose in school is with Dinah Laurel and Helena Bertinelli.

She's very competitive and will take very badly if Tim is just behind her again at the Olympics of hacking this year.

Diana 18 (who is at least as tall as Clark, i'm right on this) is leading the wrestling team and history club, she's a exchange student from Greece from a monastry where men are forbidden as a diplomatic move with her sisters. (in reality the opposite exists, for real). Her accent makes every boys and girls fall for her. She has a very strong sens of justice. One day she saw Bruce and Clark, not even talking together and..."Your mine now ! We're having tacos tonight !" They knew they couldn't negotiate.

Ollie Queen 18, everybody knows he will go to a board school one of the four (three) true childhood friends of Bruce Wayne. Captain of the archery team. Came with his own crew, all in the team. Desperatly in love with Dinah Jr.

Zatanna Zatara 18, her father was a close friend of Thomas Wayne, she's on a very good way to become a magician herself. One of the four (three) true childhood friends of Bruce Wayne. Leads theater club.

Hal Jordan 18, wants to become a jet fighter, obsessed with construction games. Mathematic club and running team.

Kendra Saunders 18, also known as Hawkgirl, because the week-end she's doing BASE Jump.

John Jones 18 and his half-sister Megan Morse 17, they are refugees from oversea after a coup. They love the special effects in movies and theaters so they are is this club. They came with

Kori Anders 17, princess in exile of Tamara, she's a really sweet girl so the school asked their sweetest student to guide her through her new life : Dick Grayson. Nobody knows how she mastered english in so little time. She had troubles with the differencies beetween the two countries. Everyone's favourite. Hurting, even a little Kori is declaring war to the whole school. She's also taller than anybody and very muscular. She kinda adopted Jason ?

Rachel Roth 14, is the daughter of the King of Azaroth, nobody really knows where it is. She's in the meditation and spiritual club. The only one allowed to hug, kiss, and touch her is Kori. The constant barking with Damian Al-Ghul can't only be hatred.

Donna Troy 17, Cassie Sandmarks 15 and Artemis Grace 16, they came with Diana. They all had a "Oh my god, he's so pathetic, I love him." With a Gotham Boy. They are all very tall and strong and in the weightlifting club.

Clark 18 and Jon 14 come from Smallville and are, 1) the sweetest guys ever, 2) fucking STRONG, there is a video on the differents groupchats of them, lifting the school gargoyle after a storm. Maybe farm strenght isn't the only explanation.

Kon 15 and Bizz 14 are from metropolis, Ma Kent's sister married Papa Luthor and they had Lex and then one rebelious and one albino with a speach impeachement, who is also the size of a polar bear. But, beware, Bizz is Jason Todd and Artemis love child. They haven't really figured yet what they want to do. Bizz is in special class with Cassandra Wu-San so you can regulary see her on his back giggling.

Linda 17 and Karen 18 kent, cousins of Clark by Pa Kent came back in town a few years ago after they lived their whole life in California. Linda is in the well-being club and liked by everyone. Karen is more on the amazonians side of the force and can't help herself but have homoerotic sparring with any strong woman on sight.

Dinah Jr Laurel Drake-Grant 18 embrassed her mom legacy and already took the mantle of Black Canary and can already put stages on fire. Her perfect figure must not makes you forget that she can beat your ass in seconds because she's in the kickboxing club too. Probably why Ollie is so in love. If you ask her if she's single, she would either tell you to fuck off if dhe doesn't like you or tell you she's already married with further explanation. (Could be either the stage, or Barbs and Helena).

Roy Harper 17 is in the archery team and music club with Dinah, nobody can sing the country and blues like him. He kinda adopted Jay with Kori too. Him and Jay made a pact to quit alcohol and drugs after they had a bad trip together on a joint in the toilet at a party together.

Lian Harper 14 is his little sister and will stay single until she's 30, at least. Well, everyone on the Arrow Team would like that. She loves hanging out with Dick and the others. Archery team too.

(I don't actually quite know a thing on the rest of the team, but they are there and well.)

The Allens all have their buddies too and are putting the race tracks on fire. Their father Jay Garrick holds multiple records of speed and gold medals. But not for long to his hapinness.

The Curry family comes from the islands in pacific ocean and are setting new records every years in swimming competition. They are all in bio courses to study marine life.

Harley Quinn 18 went in school with Bruce after his parent's murder, saw him sad, and never left him. One of the four (three) true childhood friend. She won't follow any rules but she's not a bad person. Wants to help everyone with their mental health, got a pretty big tik tok account and instagram on this topic. Her ex boyfriend, Jack, made her do bad things. But her (girl)friends Pamela, Selina and Bruce and a few others (all the people above) quickly talked to him. (Alfred signed a 100 000 dollars check for surgery)

Pamela Isley 18 leads the botanic club, she doesn't like people, like at all, would talk to grass but not you, she only started to like her figure when Harley couldn't stop ranting about her "water melon boobies" and "starship butt" in PE's locker room . Anybody else would be dead, but...It was Harley ? And Selina was laughing her ass off.

Selina Kyle 18, aka Catgirl because she's always wearing stuff with cat, her bagpack, cat ears, cat make up. She has a super model walk and won't accept shit from anyone. She wants to be a vet with Talia.

Jack Napier : still in the coma. AKA Joker, a nickname gained in jail for minors.

Thomas Eliott 18, the minus one true childhood friends of Bruce Wayne, wants him dead. Jealous that he had his inheritance before him.

(I spent 4 hours on this. Why ? BECAUSE I'M BATFAN)

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