Not sure if tumblr will let me make a post since this blog has sort of been in limbo for a while ever since a bunch of blogs got deleted a few years ago but I’ve kind of moved over to @rftwfic if anyone is interested in finding me there now
Noah Kahan
Cosmic Funnies
Stranger Things
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

gracie abrams
Monterey Bay Aquarium
🪼

shark vs the universe

izzy's playlists!
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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pixel skylines
Sweet Seals For You, Always

Origami Around
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YOU ARE THE REASON
almost home
Fai_Ryy

oozey mess

★

seen from India
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Kuwait

seen from Singapore

seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Finland
seen from Türkiye
seen from South Korea
seen from United States
seen from Belgium

seen from United States

seen from Germany

seen from United States
seen from Bangladesh

seen from Ireland
seen from Singapore
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seen from Malaysia
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@rftwfics
Not sure if tumblr will let me make a post since this blog has sort of been in limbo for a while ever since a bunch of blogs got deleted a few years ago but I’ve kind of moved over to @rftwfic if anyone is interested in finding me there now
Sunday Six
“Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project—published, submitted, in progress, for your cat—whatever.”
(I can’t believe I last minute remembered to finally post a Sunday Six, it’s literally been forever)
He dropped to his knees hard enough for shocks of pain to shoot up his thighs, but he didn’t care. Tim had collapsed in front of him, body sprawled out uncaringly on the cold warehouse floor. Jason had watched as Tim’s face had gone from red to blue, and now finally to the ghastly pale color that clung to his cooling bones. His eyes were bulged out, but they would flatten soon, sinking back into his skull. His mouth hung open, as if pleads for Jason to stop were still rolling off his lips.
“No,” Jason whispered, Jason begged.
From an angsty JayTim WIP I just found in my files.
1. He died with a smile.
2. His hands were so cold.
3. You stayed on the bathroom floor for days blaming yourself.
4. Everyone told you it would be okay.
5. You picked the flowers to go in his tub yourself. The blue has yet to come off of your fingers.
6. The gunshots get closer every day. You need him back. You will lose this war without him.
1. You miss his smile the most.
7. It's never supposed to take this long. It's supposed to take hours but you've been waiting for days.
2. The bath water is so cold.
8. You know there's been a lot of damage and you blame yourself for that even though it's not your fault. Even though he chose to step in front of the gun pointed at you.
3. You've painted the bathroom tiles with your tears of guilt and grief. You think they look much better blue.
9. You should have been smarter. Should have been faster. Regrets aren't what have gotten you through this war, but they won't abandon you now.
4. You can hear the emptiness in everyone's reassurances, but they don't know what else to tell you, so they tell you it will be okay.
10. He wakes up two days after you had given up hope, and five days after everyone else had. You cry harder than you ever thought you could. You never knew relief could be so heavy in your chest.
2. When he grabs your hands again they are cold.
1. He smiles.
Where are my All In AUs??? WHERE ARE THEY???? Come on Monbebes you haven’t failed me yet!
Anyway I originally wrote this for Showhyuk but you can read it for whichever pairing you like (It’s not like the Monsta X fandom is lacking in ships or anything)
A Study in Belongings
The hints around Snowy and Tater’s respective apartments were subtle. One wouldn’t be able to find them if they didn’t know where to look. Still, they were there, those little pieces of evidence that showed just how much time they spent at each other’s places.
There was gold cleaner in a cabinet in Snowy’s bathroom. The gold chain that Tater took off only to shower and to sleep was one of the few things he brought with him from Russia. It was his grandfather’s, and he was meticulous in its care.
In Snowy’s bathroom was also Tater’s preferred stick of deodorant, and in Tater’s there was a pencil of Snowy’s brand of eyeliner. Tater also hadn’t owned a blow-dryer until Snowy started staying over.
Snowy’s dog, who he’d rescued from the pound and Tater had named Puck (“Like a hockey puck?” Snowy had asked incredulously. Tater had laughed, a big, booming thing. “Yes, but also like Midsummer Night’s Dream. Your favorite, no?”) had both a Snowden and a Mashkov Falconers jersey. In public they joked that Tater had gotten his own jersey for Puck and would sneak him into it whenever some of the team was over, but in truth Snowy had gotten it for him. When he was especially missing Tater, usually when he went back to Russia to visit family, Snowy would put his own Mashkov jersey on and the two of them would match.
Tater was probably also Puck’s favorite human. His runs were longer than Snowy’s, and he gave the best belly rubs. Puck was a small dog, and Tater had no problem carrying him around like he was a baby. He loved it, tongue lolling out of his mouth happily while his big brown eyes gazed adoringly up at Tater. Snowy sometimes wondered if he looked the same, when Tater would pick him up against his will and carry him around the house. He hoped not.
In a drawer of the bedside table at Snowy’s apartment was one of Tater’s favorite children’s books in Russian. On nights that he was over and they weren’t exhausted from a game and Snowy could feel his love for this man swelling in his chest he would ask Tater to teach him more Russian. He would lean back against Tater’s chest in bed with the book spread out in front of them, spine creaky and letters large, and Tater would go over the Cyrillic alphabet with him and teach him a few words. Sometimes his pronunciation would cause Tater to smother laughter into his hair, but Snowy didn’t mind much. He blatantly laughed in Tater’s face every time he said “pumpernickel” and “discipline” anyway.
There was one of Snowy’s extra large coffee mugs in Tater’s cabinet, for when they had to pull themselves out of bed for morning practice. Snowy kept his back up anti-depressants in this mug, shoved to the back of the cabinet so no one would find them, but relevant enough to his morning routine that he wouldn’t usually forget them.
Forgetful days were hard, made him feel like he was being crushed by the weight of the melancholy in his chest, made it hard to breathe. Tater usually noticed quickly, but there wasn’t much he could do in public. He would hover, checking in periodically to see if Snowy needed a break from everyone. He was especially protective on those days, checking even well-meaning team mates if they got too close or too bothersome. He always made it look like an accident, but Snowy knew it was deliberate.
There were other days too, days when they had nothing to do and no one to see, when Snowy could just let himself feel. It was a relief sometimes, to let all the emotions flow, and he would lay on top of Tater on the couch while Cosmos with Russian subtitles would play on the TV. They were days tinged with the overabundance of sorrow inside of him that sometimes needed to leak out, but they were good days all the same. Tater would pet his head, make sure he ate, and smile at him even when he couldn’t smile back.
Inside Snowy’s dresser was a periodically changing t-shirt of Tater’s, given back when it no longer smelled like him in exchange for another. It was great for lonely moments, when they had to be apart either due to travel or keeping up appearances. Tater had a different method, instead forcing a teddy bear in a Falconers jersey onto Snowy every time he came over. At first Snowy obliged him if only because of his puppy dog eyes, but eventually it became natural for him to carry the bear around Tater’s apartment, nuzzling it in attempt to leave some comfort with his partner. He offered to spray some of his cologne on it as well, but Tater said he liked the smell better when it was directly from him.
There were some careless things they always left behind as well, unmatched socks, ties, books, belts, the occasional toothbrush. There wasn’t much they couldn’t claim as their own, or write off as left behind after a drunken night spent at a friend’s house. The things that couldn’t be treated so blasé were well hidden, but even so they were good friends, everyone knew that. There was nothing that couldn’t be explained in some way, so they left pieces of themselves behind for the other to find, to look at, to love, and felt so much closer for it. In a way it was almost domestic, and it was certainly love.
Oops, looks like I’m drowning in another rare pair, so expect ficlets. I’m p sure there’s like 5 other people in the omgcp fandom that ship Snowy/Tater, but we’ll all go down with this ship together, I guess.
Tater had been pacing behind the couch for the past five minutes, arms gesticulating wildly as he ranted. Only half of what he said was in English, changing over to Russian when he wanted to be more detailed about the bodily harm he wished to inflict upon the guy who had rushed Snowy. It was sweet, but Tater’s voice had an especially resonant thunder to it when he was angry, and Snowy’s head throbbed.
“Tater, can you sit the fuck down? You’re making my head ache worse.” Snowy pressed the ice pack harder against his head, wanting to release some of the pressure he felt building up behind his temples.
Tater froze in his pacing, looking for a moment as if he didn’t know what to do with himself. Snowy patted the spot on the couch next to him, and Tater sat down gingerly as to not jostle him. Snowy wasn’t even that hurt, just a bruised head and split lip, but any injury at all always had Tater being extra careful with him. His shoulders slumped and he stared down at his hands, looking more like a chastised puppy than a 6’5” defense-man. Snowy leaned into his side, and Tater gratefully wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close.
“Hey,” Snowy said softly, shoulders finally relaxing as Tater ran a soothing hand up and down his arm, “thanks for sticking up for me today.”
Tater’s lips dropped into a pout again. “I not even get to punch rat in face. Thirdy pulled me away.”
Snowy set down his ice pack so he could lean his head farther into Tater’s shoulder. He placed his hand on Tater’s chest, and a chill ran through the Russian at the cold of it. “I know, but it’s the thought that counts. Also, seeing you pull Parson out from the bottom of a dog pile and shake him around was hot as fuck.”
Tater brightened, staring down at him with excited brown eyes. “It was?”
Snowy smiled up at him and nodded, though carefully, as to not disturb his head wound.
Tater smiled as well, so bright, always so bright, and nodded to himself. “Next time, I throw him clear across rink before he can reach you.”
Snowy laughed into Tater’s shoulder. Tater pressed a soft kiss onto the crown of his head. “Sounds like a plan, big guy.”
JayTim Week Day 4: Beach / / Car Wash
“What are you doing?”
Tim didn’t look up from where he was trying to scrub a particularly tough bloodstain out of the fender. “Bruce told me to wash the Batmobile.”
Jason leaned his hip against the side of the car and looked up at where Tim was standing on the hood. “With a mop?”
Tim shrugged. He leaned over the side of the monster of a car to dunk the mop in a bucket of soapy water a few times. “It would take forever to wash it by hand. And it’s not like I’m gonna hurt it like this. Superman could punch the windshield and I don’t think it would break.” Tim demonstrated this by climbing easily onto the hood and mopping up there. “So, what brings you here?”
“I need footage from a surveillance camera, and I’m not really in Bab’s good graces at the moment.”
Tim leaned over just to raise an eyebrow at him. “What did you do?”
Jason awkwardly shifted his feet, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I made a joke. It wasn’t funny. I’m in the process of working on something to win back her favor right now.”
Tim sighed, moving back down towards the hood. “You should really know better than-” he cut off with a yelp as his feet slipped out from under him. He did his best to brace for impact, but it ended up being unnecessary as Jason caught him before he could hit the ground. He was being held like a princess, the space between their faces practically nonexistent. This meant he saw every inch of the older boy’s lecherous grin.
“Why, Tim,” he said, voice low and smooth, “are you falling for me?”
Tim blinked at him. Without thinking he flipped the mop around to smack Jason in the side of his head.
Jason dropped him.
JayTim Week Day 3: Popsicles / / Campfire
“Are you trying to seduce me?”
Tim froze in the middle of the street. He was on his way back from the corner store, the cherry popsicle he had bought there staining his lips red. He and Jason had been hanging out in front of the older boy’s apartment, soaking up the sun, enjoying the music coming from Mrs. Gonzales’ window, watching the neighborhood children as they played in the fire hydrant Jason had opened. Jason was leaning against the façade of the building in the sparse shade of a wilting tree, wide eyes focused on Tim.
Tim pulled the popsicle out of his mouth with a pop. “Excuse me?”
“It’s working,” Jason continued, “consider me seduced.”
Tim walked a bit closer so he could share the shade and put a hand on his hip. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Jason put on a lecherous grin. “I’m talking about you deepthroating that popsicle. I’ll admit it’s a little weird, but not unattractive.”
“Wh-what?” Tim sputtered. “What are you talking about?”
Jason raised an eyebrow. “Tim, do you not have a gag reflex?”
Tim eyed his popsicle warily. “I-I guess not. I never really thought about it.”
“Well,” Jason pushed off the wall, “I know what we can do about that.” He bent down enough to throw Tim over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. Tim yelped and dropped his popsicle in surprise. It immediately began to melt on the hot pavement.
“Jaaaaay,” he whined as Jason began carrying him off up the steps of his apartment, “you made me drop my popsicle.”
“I’ll buy you another one,” Jason said, “…later.”
I 100% blame my little sister and her best friend for this. They both eat popsicles by shoving them to the back of their throats and it’s all I could think about.
JayTim Week Day 1: Heatwave / / Carnival
The heatwave had overtaken Gotham at the beginning of July, and clung to it like a crazy ex. It wasn’t often that Jason envied his villains, but at the moment Poison Ivy’s leotard looked much more inviting than the layers of Kevlar and padding that Jason was forced to run around in. At least the criminals of Gotham had been affected by the heat as well, and were less likely to force Jason to chase them through alleyways still burning with leftover heat from hours in the sun.
When patrol was over Jason and Tim dragged themselves through the window of Jason’s apartment, collapsing onto the blessedly cool ground. They laid there for a minute, gradually bringing their body temperatures down to something manageable.
Eventually Tim stood and closed the window. He sluggishly began to remove his uniform, sighing in relief as the cool air hit his skin. Jason pushed himself up as well, finding the button on his helmet that allowed it to decompress and be removed. He yanked it off, shaking out his sweat soaked hair.
“Hey, Jay-” Tim began before cutting off with some sort of cross between a gurgling noise and a scream that made it sound like he was dying. He shot off for the bathroom, quicker than Jason had seen him move all night.
“Tim?” Jason asked cautiously. He was met with the sound of the sink running full force and Tim gargling. Jason approached the bathroom hesitantly, stripping off pieces of armor as he went. He found Tim hunched over the sink, continuously rinsing out his mouth. “Uhhh…”
Tim finally came up for air, gasping. “Some of your helmet sweat flew into my mouth. Where’s the Purell, I’m gonna drink it.”
Jason leaned against the door jam, arms crossed. “It’s not like you haven’t had parts of me in your mouth before.” Tim shot him a look so dirty Jason took an involuntary step back. “You can’t drink Purell, Tim.”
Tim made a face and began rifling through the cabinets. “That’s fine, Listerine used to be advertised as a floor cleaner.” He dumped as much of the blue liquid into his mouth as he could and began gargling again.
Jason prowled over, leaning down to place a kiss to Tim’s neck, still damp with cooling sweat. “There, now we’re even.”
Tim spit the mouthwash into the sink, coming back up to glare at Jason some more. “You never try to get back into my good graces this quickly. What’s your angle?”
Jason shrugged. “I’m tired and hot and want to go to bed.”
Tim conceded, shoulders slumping. “Yea, that’s legit. Give me like, three and a half more minutes of rinsing my mouth out and I’ll come to bed.”
Jason nodded and slumped off to discard the rest of his uniform. He fell into bed in just a tank top and boxers, finally cooled down enough to slip under the sheets. Normally he would feel the need to shower all the grime of patrol off before he could relax, but the heat made him too tired. He would deal with it tomorrow.
After a while Tim joined him in bed, also in just a soft t-shirt and some shorts. Jason was still awake enough to push back the covers and open his arms for his boyfriend. Tim crawled in and snuggled up to Jason’s chest, dropping off quickly into the comfortable warmth of his boyfriend and the bed.
They made it through about half the night like this, tangled together and sleeping peacefully until the air shut off. The cool lingered in the apartment momentarily, but quickly evaporated in favor of the hot, humid air that permeated every crevice of Gotham. They started by throwing off the comforter, and then the sheet. Eventually Tim rolled away from Jason, but the older boy grabbed him around the waist and pulled him back.
“Nooooo,” Tim whined as he was dragged back against his boyfriend’s chest. Tim wiggled around until he could get his shirt off, tossing it to the floor, and Jason followed his example.
The relief was short, and Tim felt his skin sticking hot and sweaty against Jason’s. He tried to squirm away, but it did little good. “I’m going to murder someone. Why the hell is it so hot in here?”
Jason groaned. “The A/C must have shut off. It’s been on the fritz for a while now.”
“Why hasn’t your landlord gotten it fixed?” Tim demanded.
“What the hell kind of place do you think this is, Tim?”
Tim groaned dramatically and pulled his way out of Jason’s grip. It only lasted a moment though before Jason was dragging him back.
“NnooOO, JAson,” Tim whimpered pathetically, “let me go.”
“No,” was Jason’s only answer. He rolled over so that Tim was squished underneath him, trapped.
“JASON,” Tim wailed.
This continued on for a while, Tim valiantly if sluggishly trying to get away while Jason always pulled him back. Eventually Tim gave up, submitting himself to having Jason’s forehead against his back and arms loosely wrapped around his waist. He gave in to fitful sleep, always just a little too hot to get completely comfortable, but never once thinking that he was alone.
A Study of Takashi Shirogane
In three parts
.
First,
he smiles at you like the sun.
You wonder how such a
cosmic explosion
goes unnoticed by all
you’re in a shitty, underfunded classroom
with dim lights and no windows
but he brings in with him the day
the morning
first taste of light across your skin
you’re blinded
but you cannot look away
he is everything.
You will tell that to yourself for years to come
he is everything
is as necessary as the sun
you will not live without him.
You will understand this more when you are older
for now you are enamored
with this beautiful boy sitting next to you
who smiled because you were trying to be funny
didn’t know that you would be burning for him for days afterward.
My friend Sam, back at it again with the Klance requests:
Who in your OTP holds the other back by the hood of their sweater when they’re about to do something stupid?
Honestly it could go either way for these boys. Lance would have to hold Keith back from trying to fight anyone who tries to buck up to them, like “WOAH! HEY, we’re peaceful, diplomatic paladins, remember? Like I know that alien over there just flipped you the middle finger, but I’m sure he didn’t know what it meant, so let’s just put our sword away now, Keith, KEITH!”
Meanwhile Keith would have to hold Lance back when he gets too excited about new things that they run into on planets. Like after liberating a planet Lance wants to go pet something that looks like a puppy but Keith yanks him back like “We are on an ALIEN PLANET. I know it looks cute but it could also kill you. You can’t just run at things like that.” And nine times out of ten the thing is completely harmless, Keith is just kind of protective, bless him.
and
Who’s the one who says “Look behind you but don’t be obvious,” and who turns their entire body around and goes “WHERE?”
Lance, that dramatic ass, would 100% turn around completely obvious and Keith would have to restrain himself from trying to throttle his boyfriend. Normally this only happens in safe spaces, but one time Lance does this on a mission just purely out of instinct and Keith is like “CAn YoU NOT!!!”
Some 00Q, cuz I should really write for them more.
Post I got the questions from
1. Who is the one who yells to their partner from one room and the other one repeatedly yells ‘what?’ from another?
Q usually has in earphones when he’s coding at home or playing video games, so while he can somewhat hear James trying to get his attention over the music/sound effects, he’ll continuously yell “what?” until James gives up and comes over to yank his earphones off.
2. How do they handle plane rides together?
Initially they’re to be avoided at all costs, but if they’re necessary then Q will medicate himself into a distorted/passed out state, and James will usually spend a good part of the ride occasionally checking Q’s vitals and assuring others that yes, his boyfriend is fine, just kind of out of it, thank you for asking. If Q doesn’t get to drug himself up beforehand then he spends the entire ride with a death grip on James’ hand while he tries to control his breathing and not go into a panic attack. James offers whatever comfort he can and tries to distract Q to the best if his abilities. Oddly enough, if James is the one flying the plane Q is less prone to panic attacks, even though that logic really shouldn’t work out.
3. How did they know they were right for each other?
James was intrigued when Q was able to match him in sass the first time they met at the museum, but he knew Q was someone special when he showed up on Q’s couch one night looking like death warmed over and Q just told him that if he got blood all over his furniture he was paying to get it reupholstered before going to fetch his first aid kit. Q took a bit longer to convince, but he knew that James would always have a piece of his heart when James went against orders on mission to rescue some civilians despite it causing him to sustain personal injury and many threats to his employment.
4. What would their song to each other be?
This one’s hard, because I don’t think either of them terribly sentimental like that, but I guess Q would jokingly say that Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen was their song because James has old-fashioned sugar daddy tendencies which Q finds adorable. Meanwhile, while James doesn’t really consciously recognize it (either because he’s not good at emotions or because he refuses to think about it) he always gets a pain in his chest and thinks about Q whenever he listens to Ne Me Quitte Pas by Jacques Brel, which is about a man begging the person he loves not to leave them.
5. How do they express their feelings? Through words? Visual art? A song? Ect
Q expresses his love by telling James to be careful every time he leaves for a mission and always accepting James back home no matter what he did while he was away, as well as making useful things for James to use on missions off the record in his free time. James is much more physical in expressing his love, and he loves Q a lot, so he pretty much is always trying to get his hands on Q, even when they’re at work and Q has to push him away. It’s not just physical in a sexual way, either. He loves constantly having an arm around Q and being able to kiss his temple or the backs of his hands whenever he wants. He’s also very overprotective of Q and does his best to take care of the boffin whenever he’s around because Q is really bad at remembering things like food and sleep.
6. Who takes playful pictures of the other when they aren’t looking?
James, much to the annoyance of Q. It doesn’t help that James has all kinds of sneaky cameras from missions that he conveniently forgot to return to Q-branch. He also reminds Q that he’s kind of a hypocrite for being so annoyed because Q constantly gets to watch him through CCTV.
7. Where do they like to go on 3am adventures?
Usually out to get comfort food. If they’re up at 3am then likely Q was up working on a project when James finally dragged his ass home. There’s a little hole-in-the-wall Chinese place around the block that stays open all night, and the old lady who works the night shift absolutely adores Q and always gives him extra egg rolls.
8. Who loves to make the other food?
Q can’t cook to save his life, but thankfully James likes cooking for the two of them whenever he’s home. Cooking is actually something that relaxes him, the domesticity of it settles him and makes him feel at home. He also likes knowing that Q is actually eating proper meals when he’s around.
9. Who has a hobby the only the other knows about?
He didn’t do this initially, but after finding out that Q has cats James began jokingly taking pictures of cats whenever he saw them and sending them to Q. He kept doing it until it wasn’t a joke anymore but just something that they did. Q currently has pictures of cats from 38 different countries saved on his phone as well as 26 just from inside London.
10. Who would accidentally become a meme?
Q-branch has so many James Bond memes. It started as a joke but then became more of a cult-like obsession. James hates it, especially because Q-branch will use them in retaliation to him not returning their equipment. James needs to write up a report but finds his desk covered in memes. He opens up the glove box of a Q-branch issued car to find a gun and memes inside. He’s on a mission and his briefcase accidentally comes open only for dozens of memes about himself to fall out. Q hacks into James’ work phone all the time and changes the background to memes about him. (He hacked into James’ personal phone one time and changed the background to a picture of their cats with a bunch of hearts photoshopped in. James has still yet to change it back, a fact which makes Q kind of melt on the inside).
My friend Sam wanted to know: Which person of the OTP spins around in the squeaky office chair and which one of them glares at the other until they stop for Klance.
Lance spins around in the chair, not realizing that the noise is annoying Keith. Keith doesn’t glare at him tho, he either throws something at Lance or kicks the chair over. It’s more effective.
I decided to go with JayTim first cuz I know y’all love them.
Post I got the questions from
1. If they had kid(s) what would the kid(s) plan for mother’s day and/or father’s day?
I actually have a hard time imagining Jason and Tim with kids, but if they ever did get any I imagine lots of homemade cards no matter what age they are, and when they get a little older they make a special meal for Jason since he taught them how to cook. Tim is a lame dad so they like, organize his files or something and he fuckin cries.
2. What is their favourite song to sing a duet to in the car?
Terribly off-key renditions of Defying Gravity. Jason will only sing along if he gets to be Elphaba and Tim doesn’t care enough to argue with him about it.
3. If they had to tell puns for a minute straight, who would be better at it?
Jason has more puns in his repertoire but he can’t keep it up without eventually laughing. Tim, however, will deliver pun after pun with a deadpan expression the entire time and it fucking ends Jason every time.
4. How do they show affection love towards one another?
Jason makes sure that Tim will get in a proper meal whenever he can and force him to go to bed once he gets past the 48 hour mark. Tim will look into Jason’s cases whenever he has time and give him any information he found. At first Jason was bothered by this, thinking it was Tim intruding and looking down on him, before he realized that it was something that Tim does for people he cares about.
5. How do they show verbal love towards one another?
Jason has a bunch of endearing nicknames for Tim. Babybird, princess, babydoll, love, etc. Tim is really bad at expressing verbal love, but whenever Jason goes out on patrol without him, whether Tim is stuck at home due to injury or if they just have to go separate ways that night, he always tells Jason to be careful before he leaves.
6. What is a joke between them that never gets old?
They will never tire of picking on Dick’s terrible fashion choices. One of their favorite things to do is recreate some of Dick’s old outfits and post a picture of them wearing it next to one of Dick with a caption of “who wore it better?” Either that or they’ll just put a bunch of random stuff from their closet on and post it and tag Dick in the picture.
7. Who would pick a fight with someone twice their size?
Well, Tim almost every night when he goes on patrol, but that’s par for course. Jason, however, despite being physically quite large already, will 100% pick a fight with someone disrespecting a woman in a bar or club no matter what size they are.
8. How do they say good night to one another over text?
“Night, loser”
“Go the fuck to sleep”
9. Would they ever get matching sweaters?
As a joke, probably. They would definitely show up at the manor with those ones that say things like “I’m not saying I’m Batman, I’m just saying no one’s ever seen me and Batman in the same room.” Tim would definitely make sure the paparazzi got at least a few shots of him in it because it simultaneously makes the vein in Bruce’s head throb but also makes him smile.
10. How would each of them dress up their dog?
Jason would get his dog shirts with puns on them or cool bandanas. Tim would dress their dog up like Robin and show up at the manor to tell Damian that he had been replaced.
Ok y’all, I’m tipsy enough right now that I want to write, but my parents are having a party so I can’t focus enough to do anything serious, so I’m gonna go answer a bunch of those OTP question things. Message me if there are any specific ones y’all want me to do.
Sooooo, if anyone’s interested I wrote some BruDick angst-smut when I was having feelings.
Title: Lesson in Love
Fandom: Batman
Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Dick Grayson
Summary:
“This is a suicide mission, Bruce,” Dick pressed, clutching the pillow to his chest.
Bruce sighed, moving over to his bedside table to reset his alarm clock. “Any night we go out on patrol could be considered a suicide mission if we don’t come back from it.”
“If this is just like everything else we do then take me with you,” Dick pleaded.
“No.”
I've always had this hc that Tim is a really good singer but like nobody has ever heard him cause he's just real insecure bout it. But it's like real good
(Sorry it’s taken me so long to answer you, but mobile kept erasing my post, and I finally got my computer back) but this is an adorable headcanon! I’m so glad you sent it to me! I’ve always headcanoned Tim to be musically inclined, it seems like something his parents would want of him so that he could have a well rounded background. I’ve always personally loved the idea of him playing a string instrument as a child, though probably not continuing it when he got older.
Also I love the idea of one of his family members hearing him singing from another room one day, probably Alfred, Bruce, Jason, or Cass, and they don’t make a big deal out of it but they tell him in passing that he has a really pretty voice and he gets all flushed about it but they just smile and keep it their little secret.
I just wanted to let you guys know that if you ever wanted to send me headcanons I would be so about that shit. I am always ready to talk about Fandoms and ships, hit me up any time.