#Chubby Tim Drake

[lilacwriter07]

Omega!Jason kidnapping Beta!Tim and over feeding him .

Omega!Jason thinking he is taking care of his cute chubby kitten, purring as he gives him kisses on his cheek .

Beta!Tim feeling so full, hoping someone find him soon .

[azol-otl]

Some more jaytim words, maybe they'll be made into a fic, if the muses allow it.

Jason can't deny that he's a possessive bastard. He grips down on everything that is his, his claw marks pronounced and obvious when they inevitably get taken from him. A sign that screams the intensity of Jason's love. This thing with Tim is just another form of that. Bite marks, red scratches on ghost pale skin, suck marks and bruises clear as day. That's baby shit. That could be anyone, and Tim deserves better. No, Jason's marks are much more obvious. Jason is the love handles on a potbelly where there used to be abs. Jason is the stretchmarks on wide thighs that support a hairy middle drooping to meet them. Jason is soft pecs turned wide breasts that lay beautifully onto a creamy sea of stomach. He's the pocks of cellulite under Tim's generous cheeks. He's the rolls on Tim's wrists, the pillowy girth of Tim's arms. He's the kisses pressed onto Tim's double chin and the hand that helps Tim into his suit every morning. You can't see Tim Drake without witnessing how much Jason Todd loves him.

[flwrkid14]

The Gotham Bat Goes Missing (Or: Danny Fenton Has a Toddler Now)

The bats are in full crisis mode.

Tim Drake—Red Robin, Gotham’s most paranoid workaholic, the one who always has a backup plan—has completely vanished. No comms, no tracker, no digital footprint, nothing. One second, he was on patrol. The next? Gone.

It’s a disaster.

Bruce is brooding harder than usual, Dick is trying to stay optimistic but failing, and Cass is threatening to burn the whole city down if they don't find him. No one is taking it well.

Meanwhile, across Gotham, completely unaware of the chaos he's caused, one Danny Fenton is staring at the adorable toddler he found wandering alone in Crime Alley.

"Where are your parents, little guy?" Danny asks, frowning.

The tiny child, wrapped in Danny’s hoodie like a makeshift blanket, just stares at him with impossibly sharp blue eyes and pouts. "Bwuce!"

Danny blinks. "Bus?"

The kid shakes his head very seriously. "No, Bwuce!"

"...Right. How bout we just head to my place and figure this out, okay?"

Tim huffs, but slumps his head over Danny's shoulder and allows himself to be taken. Danny's lucky he's cute, or else Tim would be running away by now.

-—

Danny wasn’t planning on adopting a kid, but fate (or Gotham’s weirdness) had other plans. And honestly? Timmy is the cutest thing ever.

He’s got the biggest blue eyes, the puffiest little cheeks, and he’s scary smart for a kid who can barely talk. Every time Danny works on his university homework, Timmy crawls up next to him with a determined look on his tiny face, grabs a crayon (because Danny refuses to let him use a real pen after the first ink disaster), and starts helping.

By helping, of course, Danny means scribbling all over his work in bright, clashing colors.

"Good job, Timmy," Danny coos, watching as Timmy proudly waves his crayon like he just solved quantum mechanics.

Timmy beams, babbling nonsense that sounds like he’s trying to explain something very serious, but his tiny lisp makes it impossible for Danny to take seriously, and just makes his heart melt with utmost adoration.

"You're the smartest little guy ever, huh?"

Timmy nods solemnly, “Wheely smawt" he smiles, smacking his tiny hand on Danny’s physics notes like he just made an important breakthrough.

Danny has no idea what’s going on, but he loves this kid.

-—

Meanwhile, back at the cave, Bruce is one sleepless night away from losing his mind.

"Where the hell could he be?" Jason groans.

"We’re going to find him," Dick insists, though he looks ready to cry.

Steph is stress-eating while Cass is silently scanning every camera feed in Gotham.

Somewhere in the city, their missing brother is giggling as Danny Fenton makes airplane noises and spoon-feeds him applesauce.

[astyrluna]

had some batman/batfam thoughts

(obligatory reminder that ive only read a handful of comics, im workin on changing that but for now most of my knowledge ive gotten through the fandom. would love any comic recs lol)

i do enjoy the idea of the batkids all resembling bruce in some way or another, whether that be through physical features or mannerisms or whatever. i also REALLY like the idea of the batkids each resembling bruces parents in whatever way. so, how about this:

when bruce looks at his children and sees his parents, he usually sees thomas in them. dick just has this way of talking to people thats all thomas, and he gets a dimple in his left cheek when he smiles, just like bruce, and like thomas. tim has the sharp mind and dry, witty humor bruce remembers looking up to in his father. cass is so caring, so determined to help, just like thomas was, and the way she matches his facial expressions is almost uncanny sometimes. when duke laughs, bruce sometimes thinks, just for a moment, that hes hearing his father. and, of course, damian bears a resemblance to his paternal grandfather thats becoming quite striking as he grows up.

when bruce looks at his children and sees his parents, he usually sees thomas. but jason? jason is the spitting image of martha wayne. he has the shape of her eyes, the slope of her nose (though jasons is quite crooked now), the same curly, unruly hair that shines reddish-brown in the sunlight. martha was a strong, plump woman with a sharp tongue, kind eyes, and a smile that felt like home. when jason came back, hed regained the height and weight that malnutrition stole from him, and, fueled by his rage, his words are just as deadly as his weapons. but, despite everything, the protectiveness, the kindness in his eyes he had as robin never left, and bruce rarely gets to see jason smile these days, but when he does, it fills him with a sense of comfort he hasnt felt in so many years.

from the beginning, bruce looked at jason and saw martha. and in his mind, the memories of kneeling in the rubble of a warehouse, holding the still body of his son, begging him to wake up, and kneeling in a dark alleyway, holding the still body of his mother, begging her to wake up, are irreparably fused.

[sofiafantasies]

“Tirame las aguas.”

You say, turning your head behind your shoulder before looking back at your hands. Your fingers working their magic on the keypad. You never really understood why Bruce locks his cookies like this. It's not like you guys were gonna steal it.

Damian nodded and turned around, crossing his arms and leaning on the wall. Jason turned around just to snap his head back at you. “What?” He asked, shaking his head like you just gave him an insult.

“If you can't understand simple instructions on a cookie heist—”

“I understood!” Jason whispered back from the crouched position he was in. You rolled your eyes and looked over your shoulder. “It just doesn't make sense.”

You raised your bottom lip and looked him up and down. You gave him clear instructions, and he made a big deal of them. “Work faster, would ya?” Tim rushed into your ear, the headpiece he had left for you beeping as it activated.

You hissed, rubbing your ear on your shoulder. “Can it, Tim!” You whispered harshly after you lifted your head up. You brought your hand up to your ear and tried to lower the volume. “What doesn't make sense about—?”

“Pennyworth's coming,” Damian informed you in a rush, pushing himself off of the wall. He narrowed his wide eyes at the butler before turning his head to you.

You shifted in the crouched position you were in, a hand to the floor to keep yourself steady. “Distráelo,” you whispered, nodding up at him. “ya casi termino.” He nodded before walking off.

“Jason, tirame las aguas,” you said to him, lifting your head up to look at him. He furrowed his brows at you, you thought it was because you said his name in a Spanish accent. You rolled your eyes, turning to the keypad and typing in other codes that Bruce would use.

“I don't-I don't know what that means.” He stuttered, leaning forward.

“Really, dude?” The voice of Tim came through the comms. You slapped your palm on your ear and took the piece out with a hiss. A chill running down your spine. He must have added volume right after you turned it down. He was a menace.

“Not gonna lie—same!” He chuckled. Jason groaned, reaching out to the headpiece. You sat on your bum and rubbed your ear, groaning. This better be where Bruce keeps his cookies.

“Same what?” Jason questioned, lowering the volume on the earpiece.

“That you don't know what it means.” Tim said with a mouthful. It gave you an idea he was finished patrol and stopped by for a snack.

“Jason, tirame las aguas!” You rushed him. You knew Damian could not keep Alfred away forever. And Bruce could come any minute from patrol.

“I don't know what that means!” He yelled.

You tsked and pulled at the lock. “Tim, si no te apuras te voy a matar!” You whispered harshly. You grunted, hitting the lock with your palm. You wanted those cookies, you were getting those cookies!

“But, Alfred!”

You inhaled, a sharp gasp as you turned your head behind yourself. “Jason!” You whispered, narrowing your eyes. “Tirame. Las. Aguas!” You said, emphasizing your words by widening and narrowing your eyes at him.

“I don't know what the fuck that means!” He whispered, glaring at you. “Do you really want me to throw you the waters? The waters! With an 's'?”

“What?” You furrowed your brows before grunting as you sucked in your bottom lip. You turned back to the keypad, why did Bruce decide to change the location to the floor at the pantry? You didn't think anyone but Jason was allowed in the kitchen.

“Jason, presta atención a la puerta.” You said, trying to clarify.

“They do look sick! I think it's a virus. We must give them medical attention at once.”

Jason peered over his shoulder before he turned back to you. “Why?”

“Code Black!” Tim's frantic voice came through the headpiece.

“What?” You said, turning your head to look behind you.

“Bats on the way home!” He informed, and you could tell he was running.

“Do you want them to die!?”

“Did he catch you?” Jason asked, raising a brow at the headpiece.

Tim scoffed, “Of course not. He got an alarm.”

“Who has an alarm on their cookie jar?”

“Bruce, apa—aparentemente,” you said, pulling at the lock. "y nos va a matar." You say in a whine before snapping your head behind you. “Después de que te mate yo!” You whispered at Jason.

“I am going to die!”

“I don't understand what that means.” He said once again with narrowed eyes.

“Mira, mocoso, hijo del Diablo,” you start, turning to him and abandoning the lock. "como que no sabes? Si te hablo en español todos los días."

“That specific phrase has never been muttered—” he pointed a finger at you making you gasp.

“Como te atreves!” You lean forward just to smack his hand away. “Tu me respetas—me importa un pepino si sos más grande que yo, jueputa!”

“Guys!” Damian said, peering over the door. “Alfred's on his way.”

You groaned and slapped the back of Jason's head which was open to the hit once he turned his head to the little demon brat. “Ow!”

“Que te dije que me tiren las aguas!”

“Why would I throw waters at you?” He yelled, rubbing the back of his head as he turned to look at you. “Waters!”

Damian sighed, shaking his head. “Being around you has made me lose brain cells and unable to make up a great excuse. But then again all your yelling didn't help.” He looked back at the two of you, narrowing his eyes—he hadn't realized until now the two of you were working in the dark and his older brother's eyes were glowing.

He paid no mind to that; the two of you were weird anyway. "I will be heading to the Batcave. I must check on Batcow and Alfred the Cat and make sure they have not caught a sickness. I will accept any punishment from Father once he finds out about this, but I will not leave their side until further notice. Good night, and I love you—not you, Todd.”

“Adiós! Descansa! Dile a los bebés qué los quiero, te amo!” He took a step back and rushed out of the kitchen, evading Alfred. He huffed and made his way to the kitchen pantry. “'Perate!” You yelled, realizing what that meant.

You quickly grabbed the doorknob and closed the door. “Esto es tu culpa!” You say, turning your head to Jason.

“My fault?” He yelled, a hand to his chest. “This is your fault!” He pointed his finger at you because he found that you took it as an insult.

You gasped and stretched your foot out to hit him. He fell back and glared at you. Your foot only missed again. You decide to stand up and kick him, but he just grabbed your ankle and tossed it aside. “Ey!”

You fall to your knee and glare at him. A knock at the pantry door makes you two freeze. You pull at the doorknob, putting all your weight into holding the door closed. “Mrs.—”

“It's okay, Alfred, I'm just very hungry.” You say before he could say anything. “You know, you buy the best snacks—healthy yet yummy!” You chuckle, tilting your head to your shoulder.

“We've been caught, kiddo.” Jason whispers next to you. He narrowed his eyes at you as you didn't reply.

“If you are as hungry as you say why don't I make you and master Jason something.” Alfred offered, his hands behind his back.

“You can take him,” you said loudly, turning your head to him, narrowing your eyes. “all yours.”

“What?” His eyes widened.

“You can call me when dinner is ready.” You nodded your head at the door, hoping—praying he would get it.

He rolled his eyes and stood up. You let go of the doorknob quietly and pushed yourself to the wall, tucking your knees close to you. He opened the door, his eyes stopped glowing. “Hey, Alfred.”

You tapped his shin, trying to get him to keep moving—the light was killing you. He rolled his eyes and stepped out, closing the door behind him. “Are they okay?” Alfred raised a brow.

“Eh, sort of.” He shrugged. You crawled to the door and pulled down on the doorknob. Jason crossed his arms with a bored expression—he really wanted those cookies. “S'just back to her old habits.”

Alfred narrowed his eyes. There was nothing to go back to if it was always there.

“He's here, he's—” Tim froze as he saw Alfred. “—Alfred. Hey! Hi, Alfred. Hi, Alfred. Hi, Alfred.” His hands flew behind his back, smiling awkwardly at him.

Jason raised a brow, coughing in his fist. “Uh, right, where's—” a loud alarm rang through the house.

“I got it!” You yelled, kicking the pantry door. Jason yelped and jumped out of the way as Alfred simply took a few steps back. “Te dije qué podría hacerlo, hijos de—” seeing Alfred you settled with a nicer insult. “de vuestro padre hermoso.”

You cleared your throat, hugging the jar of cookies close to your chest. Your irises flickered from Alfred to Jason to Tim as you side-stepped. “Haha!” You exclaimed before running past Tim, holding the jar above your head.

“Hey!” The two guys yelled before running after you. “We were supposed to share those!” Tim yelled after you.

“You were never gonna share those, were you?” Jason yelled.

You ran as fast as you could, not letting yourself get caught. You and your little gremlin laugh were caught off by dark green eyes glaring at you. You yelped before slowing your run. “Beloved, you will share those, won't you?”

“Nope!” You say, running around him. Damian scoffed, turning around to look behind his shoulder. “Ni lo pienses, amor mío!” You laugh before screaming as Batcow mooed at you. “Tramposo!” You yelled as you fell on your bum.

Damian walked to you, Alfred the cat in arms. “You will share.” He said firmly.

“'Ta bien!” You huffed, still holding the jar in your arms. “Pero vámonos qué ya viene el suegro.” You stood up, glaring at him. “Y tu sabes cómo se pone el viejo ese. Baba-in-law nos va a matar pero yo esperó qué te mate primero mientras yo me cómo las demás galletas.”

“Put those back.” The menacing voice of Bruce said behind the two. He ignored the cow inside the manor plus the insult and focused his eyes on the cookie jar.

“Give those back you—” Tim cut himself off and stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Bruce dressed in his suit standing menacingly behind the two of you.

“Move it, Replece—what the fuck?” Jason cut himself off as well. He did not flinch at the fact that his father was there. Mostly that Batcow was in the manor. He will fight his father if he has to and you know this.

You know this.

“Aguas!” You yelled, turning to face your brothers-in-law before throwing the jar of cookies. Jason was the first to respond to the call since he still wonders why the hell you are yelling out waters!

Bruce wasted no time in attacking. And Jason wasted no time in attacking back. Tim yelped, getting knocked down. He huffed, the air leaving his lungs. “Corre, hijo de puta!” You yelled before turning to run yourself.

All you knew was that it was chaos. You hid behind a wall, Alfred the cat joining you after getting knocked out of Damian's arms by Jason on accident—the man swears!—making the boy join the fight.

Tim was the only one who was not in the battle. You knew this, of course. He's tactical. Strategetic. And definitely won't share with his dear sibling-in-law. You grabbed Alfred the cat and made your way past their little cartoonish dust battle, passing Alfred who didn't look too happy about the fight.

You rounded the corner and started running, holding poor Alfred the cat in your arms like a little baby. You slowed down once you saw Tim holding the cookie jar. He was about to open it when Duke appeared from behind him with Steph. “Heeeyyy! Whatcha got there?”

You narrowed your eyes and placed little Alfred the cat down and dashed forward. “Uh, nothing?” Tim shrugged a shoulder as he closed the lid with an awkward smile. He gasped once the jar was snatched from his hands.

“Son mías!” You laughed, a little evil Stich laugh.

“Hey!”

You rounded the corner and pressed your palm to the wall. The wall parted and you dashed forward, bricks closing in and paint sealing the entrance. Tim grunted as he followed after you. “Oooh, a race?” Steph giggled and stretched her hand to her side, slapping Duke in the stomach, “Whoever finds the cookie jar first gets to eat it all!” She yelled before rushing after Tim.

Duke grunted, holding his middle. “I think the cookies will be long gone by then.”

The walls opened and you settled into the bed. The walls closed in, the paint re-sealing the secret passage. You laughed as you opened the cookie jar. You took one out and was about to take a bite when a little moo and meow was heard. You turned your head and smiled, lowering the cookie.

Still stuck in adrenaline you said, “Hola, bebés.”

“Share.” You gasped, clutching the cookie jar, wrapping your legs around it, and bringing your knees close. Damian stood at the other side of the bed. He either found a secret passage or he was that damn sneaky. You'll take the second one.

“Pero—”

“Hubi,” you pressed your lips into a thin line. You sighed and relaxed your legs and arms. You placed the cookie jar next to you as he climbed on. You turned to the two animals and gestured them over. They slowly made their way to you as you took a bite of the cookie.

“We should do this more often.” You say, petting Batcow as Alfred the cat jumps on Damian's bed.

“Agreed, habibti.” He smirked, he had definitely struck a few blows on his family. You shrugged, looking at the half biten cookie in your hands.

“I wonder if he has a tracker inside the cookies.”

“That's too extreme even for him.” He says, petting Alfred the cat who snuggled on his lap. He looks at you and rests his head on your shoulder.

“Eh, las cosas qué uno hace por la comida.” You said before biting the rest of your cookie. Damian smiled, wrapping his arm around your waist, caressing the extra fat there.

He lifted his head and you turned to look at him, grabbing another cookie from the jar. “True, you did marry me back at Nanda Parbat after my mother held a dinner for us.”

You scoffed, turning your head the other way. “That is absurd. Yo nunca me casé contigo solo por la comida.”

“Then why are you speaking Spanish, amada?” He teased, leaning in and kissing your cheek with a cheeky smile. You turned your head to him, licking your lips.

You pouted, “Porque yo puedo?”

“That sounded like a question.” He chuckled, kissing just beneath your eye. You smiled, scrunching your nose. “Go on, let's finish these before they come banging on our door.” He lightly squeezed the fat on your side and leaned to kiss the corner of your lips.

“They wouldn't dare.” You say, nuzzling your head against his. He chuckled, leaning against you.

You gasped as you felt the cookie in your hand disappear. “Batcow!” You snap your head to your right and gape at the cow eating your cookie. “No, eso puede ser malo para a tí, corazón!”

Damian panicked as well, getting out of the bed. “Drop it!" He told his pet, his eyes narrowing as he held the cow's muzzle.

“Give us the cookies!” Steph yelled as she slammed the door open.

“Not now!” Damian yelled back.

“Call Alfred, our babies are dying!” You yelled as you held Alfred the cat from biting the cookies that slipped out of the knocked-over cookie jar.

Damian groaned, glaring at you. Steph stepped back and dashed off, “Alfred!”

“You jinxed it, Damian!” You yell, kicking the jar off of the bed as you held Alfred the cat high above your head.

———————————————————————

Incorrect quotes aftermath.

Translations;

"Tirame las aguas." - "Throw me the waters." - Old Mexican slang for watching/looking out.

"Distráelo," - "Distract him,"

"ya casi termino." - "I'm almost done."

"Jason, tirame las aguas," - "Jason, throw me the waters." - Basically saying for him to keep an eye out.

"...si no te apuras te voy a matar!" - "..if you don't hurry I will kill you!"

"Tirame. Las. Aguas!" - "Throw me. The. Waters!"

"...presta atención a la puerta." - '...pay attention to the door."

"...apa—aparentemente," - "...ap-apparently,"

"y nos va a matar." - "and he's going to kill us."

"Después de que te mate yo!" - "After I kill you!"

"Mira, mocoso, hijo del Diablo," - "Look, you brat, son of the Devil," - It sounds better in Spanish, trust.

"como que no sabes? Si te hablo en español todos los días." - "What do you mean you don't know? If I speak to you in Spanish every day."

"Como te atreves!" - "How dare you!" - Pointing at someone is considered rude in some places.

"Tu me respetas—me importa un pepino si sos más grande que yo, jueputa!" - "You respect me—I don't give a damn if you're bigger than me, motherfucker! - Fits Jason, I guess.

"Que te dije que me tiren las aguas!" - "I told you to throw waters at me!" - "I told you to keep an eye out for me!"

"Adiós! Descansa! Dile a los bebés qué los quiero, te amo!" - "Goodbye! Rest! Tell the babies that I love them, I love you!"

"'Perate!" - "Stop!" - Full word for stop is "Esperate"

"Esto es tu culpa!" - "This is your fault!"

"Te dije qué podría hacerlo, hijos de—" - "I told you I could do it, sons of—"

"de vuestro padre hermoso." - "of your beautiful father."

"Ni lo pienses, amor mío!" - "Don't even think about it, my love!"

"Tramposo!" - "Cheater!"

"'Ta bien!" - "Fine!"/"Okay!"

"Pero vámonos qué ya viene el suegro." - "But let's go, that father-in-law is coming."

"Y tu sabes cómo se pone el viejo ese. Baba-in-law nos va a matar pero yo esperó qué te mate primero mientras yo me cómo las demás galletas." - "And you know how that old man gets. Baba-in-law is going to kill us but I'm hoping that he kills you first while I eat the rest of the cookies." - "Baba" = "Father" in Arabic.

"Aguas!" - "Waters!" - "Watch out!"

"Corre, hijo de puta!" - "Run, son of a bitch!"

"Son mías!" - "They're mine!"

"Hola, bebés." - "Hi, babies."

"Pero—" - "But—"

"Hubi," - "My love," in Arabic gender-neutral version, I think.

"...habibti," - "My love," Female version in Arabic, 100% know. Gotta add the 't'!

"Eh, las cosas qué uno hace por la comida." - "Eh, the things one does for food."

"Yo nunca me casé contigo solo por la comida." - "I never married you just for the food."

"...amada." - "Beloved." - Female version - "Amado" for male

"Porque yo puedo?" - "Because I can?"

"No, eso puede ser malo para a tí, corazón!" - "No, that can be bad for you, sweetheart!"

Tell me if I missed any.

[unhingednobsessive]

excerpt from my tim x reader wip currently just labeled "car guy tim drake" - i have barely edited it so be warned

_________________________________

Riding in his car was one of their favorite moments. Spending time with Tim was always enjoyable of course, but there was something different about being in his car as he practically flew around. They loved how fast he went and how he’d rest his hand on their thigh. The way he acted as though that was exactly where his hand was supposed to be. 

They looked out the window while resting their head on the back of their seat. Head tipped back with the wind blowing across their face and through their hair. They looked up at the sky before closing their eyes for a few moments, feeling as though they were floating just a little. 

Oh yeah, they adored this. 

Grounding themselves with the weight of Tim’s hand they settled back into their body again, just existing. They let the constant flow of air and Tim be the only thing they focused on. 

Tim switched gears and hit the gas. As it sped up, the car rumbled louder underneath them. They let out a gasp snapping open their eyes at the sudden change. It always stole their breath away when the car changed to expose how much more of a beast it was. A beast that he easily had total control over.

They breathed heavily, their heart pounding out of their chest. The adrenaline rush always caused them to feel a bit lightheaded. Either from the air flow changing or the speed itself, it felt almost like the air around them was being sucked away.

Of course, it couldn't last forever and seemingly all too quickly, Tim switched gears again allowing the beautiful beast to return to a more normal state. 

[laythestar]

Masterlist;

BatBoys

B. Wayne;

🦇 Coming Soon!

D. Grayson;

Dick Grayson Headcanons

J. Todd;

Doll you're bad, bad news

I'm just a Supernova;

T. Drake;

Tim Headcanons

D. Wayne;

Just let me love you, my dear

I'm all yours darlin'

You're mine, sweetheart

Don't try to run away my love

You made me know how true love is

Damian Wayne Headcanons

Marvel:

Bucky Barnes;

Thinking about us;

Peter Parker;

Somebody to love

When Peter falls in love

Marauders:

James Potter;

She's so pretty I might drown

Honey don't you get it? I love you

Embrace me, my muse

Pouring my heart into letter for you

Sirius Black

We're just having a good time darling

The star that follows the sun

Sirius Black Headcanons

Remus Lupin;

You bewitched me, sweetheart

You make me feel whole baby

Maybe I just want to be with you

[saminha]

WAAAAOOOOWWW FOLLOWED BY A CELEBRITY

[froggy-rains]

This took me 2 hours and 20 mins

This is what pushing through art block looks like for me. Some days I just can’t draw no matter how much I really want to. I’ve been messing with this canvas for like three days and finally I was happy enough to just leave it. Sometimes I can get in my head after looking at all the amazing artist on tumblr and I just get in my head about my sketches not looking as good as there’s is. So I’m just going to post this as like a message to myself and others ITS FINE TO HAVE BAD ART DAYS/I CAN POST SOMETHING EVEN IF ITS NOT GOOD

[i-loveoldermen]

!REQUESTS OPEN!

💗I write mostly for Marvel/DC/COD/Oscar Isaac characters/Pedro pascal characters💗

!Rules!

🌸 NO SMUT

🌸 NO RAP3

🌸 NO INSCEST/STEP-CEST

!Tropes!

🎀 any trope is welcome, recommendations for series are also a okay, I'd also love tropes relating to fantasy and creativity! Be free! 🎀

[azol-otl]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Weight Gain, unintentional weight gain, chub kink, Belly Kink, Feeding Kink, Chubby Tim Drake, Chubby Chaser Jason Todd, Look it's Jason's kink but Tim did it all himself, Sebastian Ives (Minor), Zachary Zatara (Minor), Bart Allen (minor) - Freeform, Kon El (Minor), They all show up and have speaking roles but the focus is very much on Tim and Jason, Masturbation, Under-negotiated Kink, and by that I mean Jason has never said anything but he's also never hidden it, Fear of Non-Con But No Actual Non-Con, Kink Discovery Summary:

“What?” Tim asks, suddenly feeling defensive.

“Oh, nothing,” Zach drawls. “I just realized that I had you two mixed up,” Zach says, his voice deceptively bland. “Jason’s the starving dog, and you’re, well—” He looks Tim up and down.

Tim has no clue on what Zach’s trying to say but he nods anyway before taking a bite of the pineapple; the combination of tart and sweet hits his tongue. The only thing keeping him from moaning out loud is the off chance that Lian is in hearing distance.

I forgot to post that chapter two has finally been posted haha. Hope you guys enjoy reading chapter two of The Twink Death of Timothy Drake.

[angstandhappiness]

BAH HAH

Damian may be a child soldier.

Damian will be able to handle more than 5 languages, three different fighting styles with only one specific type of weapon.

He will be able to handle every single villain's trickery, their fights, the way they think.

He will be able to surpass his father and the rest of his brothers in various elements and skills, or at least fight him to the ground.

But… Damian is still a kid.

A child who, within his childish logic, understands things as a child. As much as he could earn 3 PhDs if he had the chance to defend his thesis in front of a complex jury.

Therefore.

Dick is not surprised that Damian is not afraid of the Joker and a group of terrifying killers; and even accompanies Kory or Jon on their walks with their 5-jawed, 4-multi-eyed alien friends with sticky scales as if they were nothing.

Dick's only concern is that the painting of the dancing rat in a jester's costume, which was probably one of those forced inheritances from Bruce's mother's family, is not in the same room as Damian.

Because, Damian, he's terrified of the image of a little, chubby, fluffy rat in a jester's make-up, wearing a colourful, tiny suit and juggling cheeseballs.

Artistically it is a masterpiece, but for Damian it is the worst thing that could have happened to him. And now that funny painting must be hidden away in one of the mansion's little-used pavilions.

Dick doesn't know why, nor does he ask, but he knows that Damian's childish logic works that way and at least he's comforted that it's that; and not like Tim's terrible terror of that stuffed rabbit Jason had in his old room.

Or like Jason's terror of that statue in the garden, where a smiling cherub stood over one of the water fountains, holding a flower.

[pomegranatelifethis]

Little Sister

The Wayne Manor was a labyrinth of shadows and secrets, its towering spires and gothic arches looming like silent sentinels over the sprawling grounds. But tonight, the grand halls were alive with a different kind of energy—a chaotic, joyful mess of giggles and the patter of tiny feet. You, barely two years old, were the undisputed queen of this chaos, your chubby legs carrying you with reckless abandon through the corridors. Your laughter echoed off the walls, a bright, tinkling sound that could melt even the iciest of hearts.

“Gotcha!” Jason Todd’s voice boomed as he scooped you up mid-sprint, his leather jacket creaking as he hoisted you into the air. Your squeal of delight was deafening, arms flailing as you squirmed in his grip. The second-eldest Robin was grinning, his usual brooding demeanor replaced by something softer, warmer, as he spun you around. “Where d’you think you’re goin’, huh, Baby Girl?”

**Baby Girl**

You babbled incoherently, your tiny hands grabbing at the white streak in his hair, tugging with all the might your toddler strength could muster. Jason winced but laughed, unfazed by the assault on his scalp. “Yeah, yeah, you little gremlin. Keep pullin’, see what happens.”

From the doorway, Dick Grayson leaned against the frame, arms crossed, his Nightwing suit half-zipped as he watched the scene unfold. “You’re gonna regret letting her near your hair, Jay,” he teased, blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “She’s got a grip like a vice.”

“Psh, I’ve faced worse,” Jason shot back, though he gently disentangled your fingers before you could yank out a chunk of his hair. He set you down, only for you to immediately latch onto his leg, clinging like a koala. “C’mon, kid, give me a break.”

“No breaks for you,” Tim Drake chimed in, not looking up from the tablet balanced on his lap. He was sprawled on the couch in the living room, surrounded by a fortress of empty coffee mugs and case files. Despite his focus, a fond smile tugged at his lips as he glanced at you. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger, and you know it.”

Jason grumbled, dragging his leg—and you—across the room with exaggerated effort. “Don’t you have a case to solve, Replacement?”

“Don’t you have a toddler to wrangle, Red Hood?” Tim fired back, finally setting the tablet down to crouch beside you. “Hey, kiddo, wanna help me with some detective work?”

Your response was a garbled string of syllables, followed by a gleeful smack of your hand against Tim’s knee. He chuckled, ruffling your messy hair. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

The sound of heavy footsteps announced Damian Wayne’s arrival before he even spoke. “This is absurd,” he declared, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, his ten-year-old scowl firmly in place. Titus, his massive Great Dane, sat obediently at his side, watching you with curious eyes. “Why is the manor in disarray because of *her*?”

“Lighten up, Demon Brat,” Jason said, prying you off his leg and holding you out toward Damian. “She’s just havin’ fun. Wanna hold her?”

Damian’s scowl deepened, but his eyes softened ever so slightly as you reached for him, your tiny fingers wiggling in the air. “I am not a babysitter,” he muttered, though he stepped forward and carefully took you from Jason’s arms. You immediately grabbed at the hem of his hoodie, babbling happily. “Tch. You are… adequate, I suppose.”

“High praise from the prince himself,” Dick said with a grin, pushing off the doorframe to join the group. He dropped to his knees beside you and Damian, tickling your side until you erupted into another fit of giggles. “You’re stealing all our hearts, aren’t you, Baby Girl?”

You didn’t understand the words, but you understood the warmth, the safety, the love that radiated from the brothers surrounding you. The manor, for all its darkness and danger, was your kingdom, and these vigilantes—rough around the edges, scarred and stubborn—were your knights.

From the shadows of the staircase, Bruce Wayne watched silently, his stoic expression betraying the faintest hint of a smile. Alfred stood beside him, polishing a silver tray with meticulous care. “She’s quite the handful, isn’t she, sir?” the butler remarked, his tone fond.

“She is,” Bruce agreed, his voice low. “But she’s ours.”

And as you toddled toward him, arms outstretched, calling “Dada!” in your sweet, garbled voice, Bruce’s heart—battle-hardened and weary—felt a little lighter. He knelt, catching you in his arms, and for a moment, the weight of Gotham’s shadows faded away.

“Baby Girl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re going to be the death of us all.”

But oh, what a way to go.

[demonic0angel]

OWO, you take prompts? How about this?

Danny was born a premature and with a heart defect. The Fenton's try to make a clone so they can get his heart transplanted without fear of organ rejection. But they end up making a full on baby and don't have it in them to kill another version of their son just to save their original boy. Danny ends up pulling through and the clone gets filed as a twin that no one noticed was still in when Maddie was in the hospital. So Maddie "had him at home" and went back so he could be medically examined. The new parents feel ashamed of what they initially were going to do and give the child to a cousin who couldn't conceive.

Tim Drake doesn't know he's adopted until a DNA test reveals that the 'Meta' running around Gotham is his 'twin brother'. And the babies he has, that he does babysitting gigs with, are his twin's 'children'.

(I don’t exactly take prompts, but I don’t mind if you send them. Also, I’m going to assume that the twin’s “children” are Dan and Dani, since that seems to be what people prefer.)

“… are you serious?” Tim asked through the phone.

“Yep,” Dick said, sounding like a mixture of amusement and concern, “How do you feel about it?”

Tim thought about it and then responded, “I guess it makes sense why my parents neglected me so much, since I’m adopted.”

“Awww, baby bird…”

“I’m fine, Dick,” Tim said. He picked Dante and set him on a baby chair. Said child stared at him with electric blue eyes, scowling with his pudgy cheeks as if he wanted to tear Tim apart with his nonexistent teeth. Tim rubbed his chubby cheek with a finger before moving away, still holding the phone to his ear as he picked up the other baby.

Dick continued, “Yeah… also, Bruce says that he’s sorry that he checked your blood without telling you.”

Tim snorted, “No, he didn’t.” Bruce was never sorry for that kind of stuff.

Dick sighed. “Yeah, I lied. Sorry. But he did look guilty! He didn’t want to tell you at first, but Jason convinced him so I’m the one telling you right now.”

Tim hummed, picking up little Ella, who was stubbornly holding onto a small cardboard box. Tim let her hold it and placed her onto the baby chair next to her brother, who immediately reached out for her. It was kinda funny seeing how clingy he was compared to his sister.

“We have more information too. We tracked down the new meta and we’ve been looking into his routes. We suspect that he’s living around here, in Bristol,” Dick said. “We think he’s living in an apartment, at XXX on XXXX street, possibly with a roommate named Jazz.”

Tim paused, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that he was in the same building, babysitting a bunch of kids on the same street, who also lived with another woman named Jazz. “Uhh. What else?”

“We think he lives on the third floor and possibly also works at a pizza delivery place? Or maybe a fast food restaurant? He’s been flying back and forth between two places besides the apartment.”

Tim began to sweat. “Uh… anything else?”

“There’s a high chance that his name is Danny Nightingale, and Jasmine Nightingale is in on the fact that he’s a meta.”

Fuck.

Tim looked at his niece and nephew with a new light, eyes wide. Ella beamed at him, giggling while Dante just glared.

Welp. At least Bruce would be happy to be a grandfather now. Even if it was to Tim’s secret meta twin brother.

[laythestar]

Tim Headcanons;

— Tim Drake who first thought when he saw Red Hood was that he wouldn’t make it to the date he had with you;

— Tim Drake that has the habit of writing every interest you have just to search about it late so he can have more conversations with you;

— Tim Drake who always thought he was meant to loneliness until he met you in one of his hunting for good coffee;

— Tim who sends horrible gen z memes when he feels sad just to smile at whatever worse meme you sent to him back;

— Tim that have planned all the future date ideas that he has;

— Tim who has so thankful when he revealed that he was bisexual to you, only to be received with total support and words of comfort;

— Tim who sometimes write poems for you;

— Tim who made a whole playlist just for you;

— Tim who just wishes to be enough for you so you don’t leave him like everyone does;

— Tim who just have so much love to give you.

Did I wrote this thinking about how much I'm like the Timothy Drake that I normally picture in my mind? Except for the bisexual part because I'm straight, but everything else I'm just like him (I'm also a Red Hood kinnie), anyway, give some love to my Tim Drake headcannons byeeee

[holyadoptionpapersbatman]

Wendolyn "Wendy" Jane

Here's a fic idea that I'll never be able to flesh out because I'm super burned out, but here's my take on a TimKon Clonebaby AU!!

***

So, when Tim was kicked out of the window, he didn't bother to call Kon because he thought the whole encounter he had with him was a hallucination. But, he's calm. And an extra thought he had as he fell was that his and Kon's clone-baby is secured with Martha Kent.

"I can't wait to meet you, Wendy," he says as he falls.

No one catches Tim.

Dick was too late.

Another family member he wasn't fast enough to catch.

***

Kon, Bart, Cassie and the rest of YJ had been devastated when they heard the news. Tim's body was going to be cremated, so chances of him being brought back to life by enemies would be nonexistent.

To comfort himself, Kon walks into the room Wendy had been lightly snoring in.

When Kon came back with Bart, he was surprised to see this baby in Ma's arms, wondering if he actually landed himself in an alternate dimension. But when Ma explained the circumstances of her birth, that Tim tried creating clones of him and Bart to bring them back into his life, Kon gently took the baby into his arms and wept. Then, he went to find Tim.

He didn't think Tim was crazy, but the whole time he was with him, Tim was definitely not in his right mind.

Now, Wendy won't know who her other dad was. Because Tim's gone.

But not completely gone.

Unlike Kon and Bart who left only memories of themselves, Tim left this child. She's not Tim, but she's made with all of his desperation and love.

Kon, after a few hours of mourning, vows to take care of her the best he could.

***

"Pa, why I haf two fiwst names?" Wendy asks one night as she's tucked into bed, after her first day of school. "An' why's my nickname Wendy?"

Kon chuckled. "Your nickname is Wendy because it's the name of my favorite character from my and your daddy's favorite show," he explained, also tucking in her favorite stuffed animal since she was a baby - a chubby, red duck called Mr. Duck. She immediately hugs it close to her and snuggles into its head. Mr. Duck gave out a hearty 'QUACK!' that sounds a lot like Tim's voice.

Kon's heart doesn't ache anymore. Just bursts with love.

Then, picking up the book, 'How to be a Pirate', Kon opens it and flips it to the bookmarked page, a new chapter of when Hiccup and the rest of the Hooligan boys discovers a coffin. This is the 19th time they're reading this book. And it will take 20 more times until they move on to the next book of the How to Train Your Dragon series.

"Your name 'Jane' is from your daddy's mom's name. Her name was 'Janet', and your dad was downright a mama's boy," he continued, causing Wendy to giggle.

"An' Daddy's name's Tim, wight?" she asked.

"Timothy, actually," said Kon. "Timothy Jackson Drake. He has a long name like you. But he likes being called Tim. Just Tim. Not Timmy. Not TJ. And definitely not Timberlina."

Wendy cackles loudly, kicking her legs up and repeating with her lisps Tim's funny 'Timberlina' nickname over and over.

Then, once she's done laughing, Kon starts reading.

The chapter isn't even over and his little girl, his and Tim's little girl, is already asleep.

***

There was a skateboard in the attic. It was right beside this box full of envelopes and journals handwritten by her late Dad, and it had some kind of engine at its base. It also had a whole bunch of scratches on its underside.

It's also one of the most beautiful things 12 years old Wendy had ever seen.

"Pa!" she shouts, running down the stairs to the kitchen, finding Aunt Pru and Aunt Cassie burning down her Pa's stove, like usual. She turns to her Pa who had his head in his hands, most likely trying to calculate how much he needs to buy himself a new stove. "Pa, can we buy me a skateboard?"

Aunt Pru smirks. "Tryin' ta' get cool with the boys, are we?"

Wendy rolls her eyes. Her? Getting cool with the boys? Not a chance. She couldn't fit in with anyone if she tried.

She's heard stories of her dad being able to become friends with anyone, from jocks to nerds. He wasn't popular, but people of all kinds just seem to be able to hang out with him with no trouble.

Not to mention, both of her dads looked unfairly handsome in their teens. It really wasn't fair when the beauty gene doesn't get passed down or genetically inputted into her. Ugh.

But, scratch that!

"Pa! Can we?? Buy a skateboard?"

Pa glanced to his stove. Then to Wendy.

It really wasn't a choice to begin with.

"Sure, I also know someone who could teach you," he said.

***

"YOU ACCIDENTALLY SENT MY DAUGHTER BACK TO THE PAST?!"

Bart rolled his eyes. "It wasn't an accident. She was meant to go for a little time-travel adventure!"

"Of course you'd know that," muttered Kon.

Away from them, Lizzie laughed. "I remember my time-travel adventure!" she said, ignoring Jon's deadpan stare towards her and Damian's completely subtle wince. "I got an A+ on my essay!!"

Kon ignored Lizzie and started pacing the floor. "Our timeline could be changing and we wouldn't even know it!"

"Thank you!" Jon said, throwing his hands up finally feeling validated.

Damian rolled his eyes. "We're fine, aren't we? The universe isn't getting destroyed or fading from existence. Additionally, Allan did mention she was meant to travel back in time."

Bart wiped a fake tear away from his eye. "Thanks, Dames."

Damian scoffed.

On Wendy's side, she was standing right in front of an abandoned warehouse in Paris. Or, to be more specific, an abandoned Lex Corp Cloning Facility.

She clutched the letter in her hand and stepped inside.

'I guess I'm illegally a Parisian,' thought Wendy as she walked through the creepy halls, further down into where the cloning tech could be.

Then, finally, she reached it, the big, green 'ATTEMPT 100 SUCCESS' glaring back at her.

Looking before the railings, she finds a familiar figure. One she's only seen in pictures. But, instead of the strong, smart and confident hero, she sees the most broken and saddest teenager in existence.

"Dad..." she calls, heartbroken.

Her dad's head snap's up, but he slowly stands protectively, clutching the bundle in his arms closer to his chest.

He takes one look at Wendy, and--

He...

He relaxes. He relaxes his hold. His stance. His everything.

He goes up to Wendy, a hand reaching out to gently caress her face.

"You have my mom's eyes," he said.

Wendy smiled back at him. "Yeah," she says, her voice almost a whisper.

"You have Kon's stupid smile, too."

Wendy rolls her eyes. "Pa keeps telling me it's your stupid smile, Dad."

Her Dad laughs. He's almost in disbelief. But.

"How are you here?" he asked.

Wendy opened her mouth, then carefully chose her words. "You left a letter for me. For my sixteenth birthday. I'm not going to get into detail what you wrote in it but, you said it was okay to tell you that you encouraged me to head to the past and--- here I am."

Her dad's brows scrunched together, the same way she saw in stolen pics how her own brows does.

"And you're okay to be in the same... vicinity as... your past self?" he asked.

Wendy nodded her head. "Uncle Damian told me so!"

Her dad laughed, bewildered. "Uncle Damian!?"

Wendy nodded. "He's an ass, but his heart is made of gold." She reached a hand out for her Dad to take. "I have so much family growing up, Dad. I... I have so much to tell you."

Nobody told Wendy how her Dad died. Or when he died. Just that he did.

So, lets her Dad take her to this apartment he rented. It was barely touched, there wasn't even the mess he was known for making. She guesses the mess was down at the clone labs.

But, once the both of them settled down, her dad changed into more comfortable clothing. And. It was almost like looking at a mirror.

Wendy's heart burst with emotion.

From there, they both exchanged stories of their lives until it turned morning.

She watched as how tenderly her Dad held her baby-self with the same love her Pa gave her. She longed for it. But. She couldn't stay any longer. She felt the timer Uncle Bart gave her vibrate in her pocket.

"I have to go back," she said.

Her dad nodded, gently laying her baby self in the middle of the bed. Then, he turned to her with his arms open wide.

Wendy took it. She hugged him back just as tightly.

Then, after a heartfelt goodbye, she left the apartment.

And then, she disappeared home.