#FOR LIKE A MONTH AND A ALF

[moe-broey]

SLIGHTLY. CHANGING MY ASKR TIMELINE HCS so that Alfonse was 18/19 when joining the Order. Which would have made Sharena a Teen teen when joining, following after him.

LIKE.... I was REALLY attached to the idea that Alfonse waited for her, before going. Kind of like what my older sisters did, where one put off going to college for a year or so to wait for the other so they could go together. It's just such a sweet gesture from an older sibling.... and something I can 100% see Alfonse doing.

But I'm ALSO considering. The idea of Alfonse being so stressed and restless and unhappy (though he can't place Why) that he just needs to leave Immediately. And Sharena, not about to be left behind, follows him (Unsure if it was planned between them, or an impulse decision they both made when Sharena Realized what Alfonse was about to do, or if she LITERALLY stowed away about it against his will But she's here now. And it's clear she intends to Stay. So. It may be wiser to keep her at my side, to ensure she doesn't run into any trouble....) (ALSO THE IDEA. THAT ON A SUBCONSCIOUS LEVEL. Alfonse Knows he can't leave her There. He couldn't tell you Why. But he can't leave her with.... leave her, in that lonely, secluded, isolated place.)

WHICH. WHICH. REGARDLESS OF HOW IT PLAYED OUT. The Implications here go CRAZY. How Alfonse is exclusively to blame for Sharena's decision she made herself. How Sharena is invalidated and neglected, so much so that their parents just. Let her do that. As young as 16, if I'm placing them to be maybe two years apart. Also how that WOULD have made her a child soldier. Not as severe as Anna's and even Bruno's case (all hc territory there) but like. The idea that Sharena experienced Enough bare minimum stability to get her by. The fact that she was so emotionally neglected that she'd choose this, anyway. And it would be Freedom for her. Epitome of "I didn't have it As Bad as my peers/loved ones, but...."

[starry-bi-sky]

Oh for sure! Although it'd probably sound something like "Buss" since z is one of those consonants that's difficult for toddlers to say until they're older, which is like, a triple whammy for Bruce because Danny is TRYING to say Buzz and its just not coming out right, and its so cute hearing little kids try and say words. I'm imagining him saying "Beebee" too as some alternative to 'busy bee'/'bumblebee' which are two of the other nicknames i came up for him in WTNS, and Bruce is just. Dying over here guys. He's cried like three times.

Me 🤝 You Giving bby BB danny flare-ups

I was thinking of that while I was writing the tags too!! And I know it's a rhetorical question but it is SO hard to watch one of the babies in the infant room crying and screaming and nothing will calm them down, even if its for unrelated poison reasons. It's incredibly stressful but also just distressing to watch coz you wanna help but nothing works.

I absolutely think that, if de-aged Danny is physically, developmentally his age even if he has his memories, his pain tolerance and emotional control would be all over the place. Plus his pre-existing trauma too.

Lil Danny going through a flare-up would be inconsolable. Alternating between curling up into a ball on the floor wailing, and kicking around, trying to do something to distract himself from the pain.

And that's if he's not latched onto Bruce, absolutely refusing to let go and holding onto him tight enough that Bruce can feel his little nails digging into his skin. His face pushed into Bruce's shoulder or chest and rubbing his tears into his shirt.

There's this thing that infants and younger toddlers do where they cry so hard that they forget to breathe, and you gotta lightly shock em back into breathing again. Which is just lightly blowing air in their face or going "breathe" at them or touching them. But this would happen a lot with Danny, especially since, if he's having flare-ups, he'd have the same weak constitution as his older self, and his lungs would be weaker. Bruce very quickly has to learn that trick to remind him to breathe.

There'd be a lot of harsh coughing and gasping in between his crying, maybe even crying to the point of throwing up. Maybe, if he even has the air or thought to, wailing "maamaaa/daadaa" or even "baa/babaa" which would be him trying to yell for Bruce. There's not much Bruce would be able to do unfortunately other than wait for the flare-up to pass.

Afterwards? Danny just passes out, completely exhausted and his breathing all torn up and ragged.

no thoughts head empty de-aged blood blossom danny

if ONLY because i was at work yesterday out in the play yard and one of the babies from the one year old room walked up to me, held up her arms and went "up. up" and i caved like a wet fucken nOODLE and im inflicting that onto Bruce

so im just picturing like, roughly 18mo Danny, just absolutely teeny, walking up to Bruce in the Batman suit, grabbing his cape and pulling on it to get his attention or plastering himself to the side of his legs (<- real experience i've had) and when Bruce looks down at him Danny just goes "Bah-man, bah-man. Up."

and im teLLING YOU. Bruce would cave in a fucking heartbeat.

or if he crouches down, Danny will just crawl onto him anyways. wraps both arms around his neck and tries to raise his leg over his knee so he can wrap himself around his waist (<- ALSO A REAL EXPERIENCE I'VE HAD)

also he can't fully articulate himself yet, he doesn't have all of his teeth quite yet and phonetics are harD, so he can't say Bruce it just sounds like "boo" or "booce" like 'boost' but without the 't'.

[thestuffedalligator]

I read Fat Face by Michael Shea last month and it was. Fine? It was a Cthulhu Mythos story written in the 80s, it was very edgy and it had a lot of tropes I’m not a fan of, I don’t really recommend it, but I have to talk about one detail I have not stopped thinking about since I read it.

So. I knew Fat Face through reputation because it was the story that inspired Shoggoth Lords from the Call of Cthulhu TTRPG, shoggoths that can control their cellular makeup to look like humans. And the twist in Fat Face is that shoggoths have been hiding amongst humans in Los Angeles, and at the end of the story one of them eats the protagonist.

The tone of the story is grit. It’s grime. It’s sleaze and sexual violence and drug abuse on top of cosmic horror. It wants to be taken seriously so bad.

But here’s the thing about the shoggoths: they have a business.

They have two businesses they run out of an office building in downtown Los Angeles. A shoggoth is a primordial blob of eyes and mouths and flesh and hunger, and the idea of one of them at the LA Office of Finance registering an LLC is already. Great. Perfect. No notes.

The business is a front — and again, that’s great, a shoggoth went, “I want to do some nefarious deeds and not get caught by humans; I know, I’ll register a fake business that’ll be a front, and no human will ever suspect” — because the actual interior of this office is a room of pools of water made from black and ancient Antarctic rocks so that shoggoths can relax in their original blobby forms and eat stray animals that they’ve caught.

So it’s basically just. A place for shoggoths to unwind after a long day of pretending to be human. It’s portrayed as cosmic horror, but it’s shoggoth Cheers. Sometimes you wanna go where nobody knows your shape.

Here’s the kicker. The front of the business is a hydrotherapy clinic and stray pet rescue.

When they decided to make a front for their secret lair in an LA office building where they hang out in pools of water and eat stray animals — the front they prominently display and advertise — they decided to go with a hydrotherapy clinic and stray pet rescue.

That is Goosebumps shit. The rest of the story reads like a tone poem about the sleaze and violence of Los Angeles, and the main twist of the story reads like R.L. Stine.

But that’s not even the detail I can’t stop thinking about. Because the story reveals that this business — which again, is a front made by alien blobs to eat stray animals like an ALF-themed buffet and hang out in jacuzzi tubs of Antarctic rocks in an LA office — has a flyer.

Which means there’s a shoggoth with a passion for graphic design

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Nikolai's appetite disappears over night and Price smells a rat.

cw: mention of body shaming, damaged relationship with food.

Nik loved food.

Not in the way that Johnny did, slamming an entire packet of Maryland cookies and then descending into a sugar coma, or the way that Gaz did, by seeing it as fuel to maintain a powerful and efficient body, so every macro counted. But in the way a wine taster did; there wasn't a city on earth where he couldn't steer John to the very best restaurant, be it tiny back alley taverna or sprawling five star hotel.

He loved sampling different cuisines, sourcing exotic dishes and sharing them with John (who had drawn the fucking line at sea urchin and puffer fish, because while he had never considered a rule about eating shit that could kill you in seconds, he made an ardent one in that moment). John reckoned it was a leftover from his army days when he would have had to survive on rat packs and mess food like the rest of them. He was enjoying it now he could.

So, when Nik suddenly stopped eating, it was bloody noticeable.

He'd still take John out, filling his plate and excitedly watching his face as he tried it, but he wouldn't eat himself. And if he did, it was some poxy salad or plain chicken that looked like it hadn't even glimpsed a spice rack. There were empty tupperware containers stacked in the co-pilot chair of the Black Hawk and Nik remained completely sober during a post-mission arse squeak celebration. (Where they had - in Ghost's words - bum squeaked their way through; Price wasn't sure it was technically an idiom, but he let it pass.)

"You watchin' yer figure, Nik?" Price asked finally, reclining in the wicker chair at the little café they'd stopped in. They were just outside Florence, and the tourists were just beginning to slither groggily into the sun.

"Da," Nik tapped his stomach, "I am, what do you call it, spreading?"

"You look fine t' me. More n' fine."

"I have lost some. But I still have more to do." Nik tugged at his sleeve, a self conscious gesture that John had never seen him do, and it set his teeth on edge.

"Did someone say somethin'?"

Nik swallowed and John wished he'd take those bloody aviators off so his eyes were visible. "Not recently."

"Well, this has been goin' on for months," John said, gesturing at the black coffee that comprised Nik's entire breakfast, while John had polished off the continental version of a Full English. "So out with it. Who said what?"

"I..." Nik cleared his throat, shifting in his chair. "I was not wearing a shirt on a beach in America, visiting Laswell, and a group of young women advised me to go to the gym."

"You can olympic press Ghost."

"Da."

"You can bench press over twice your own bodyweight."

"Mm, da."

"I think you go to the gym plenty."

Nik went silent. He wasn't looking at John, which meant he was embarrassed and not sure how to recover. Whatever this was, whatever had been said, he would have retaliated with his usual bolshy dismissal at the time, but up there in his Heli it would have buzzed around in his head in the quiet until it got its barbs in.

"Fer a smart bloke, you 'n' 'alf thick sometimes."

"That is what I am trying to fi--"

"Not what I meant, Nikolai." John sighed, rubbing a hand over his beard as he considered Nik's slumped shoulders. "You're good-lookin', fit, hotshot pilot with yer gold chain. This is the first time some horrid cow has said somethin' cruel, I bet."

"I might have let myself go."

"You're fifty. It's allowed," John said. "But you haven't. Yer just as built as when we first met."

"I was thirty, John. That is not possible."

"I don't think I stuttered there, but I might be wrong..."

Nik tsked at him and wrapped his arms over his chest. He tried to make it look nonchalant but it was absolutely a barrier. "I am feeling self-conscious. It will pass. I do not wish to talk about it."

"Tough shit, Nik. We're talkin' about it." John scraped his chair loudly around the table and crowded into Nik's space, leaning down with his elbows on his knees to look up into the forlorn expression on his lover's face. "If - and I mean if - I thought your health was at risk, or you were lettin' yourself go, you not think I'd get you runnin' laps with my new crop until you were fit to run missions with my team again?"

"Da, I would expect nothing less."

"Yer part of my task force, Nik. I don't accept anythin' but the best. No exceptions. Tell me I'm wrong."

"I cannot."

"And has my performance between the sheets been any less enthusiastic?"

"Nyet..."

"Right, so, engage that mensa level intelligence of yours and compute the obvious bloody conclusion."

John reached forward, continuing even when Nik tried to recoil, to run his hands beneath his shirt. Nik's belly was warm, the hair on it soft, and John wanted nothing more than to rub his damn face into it.

"I know it's gonna take time to rebuild yer confidence, Nik. Not sure yer tellin' me the whole story but whatever they said, they're wrong. Women like that, they're cruel for sport. You could look like, uh... whathisname, Chris Hemsworth, 'n' they'd still say somethin'. Gives 'em a way to cover up their own insecurity, right?"

There was a small smile of amusement and Nik's arms fell away, letting John run his hands a little higher. "I am impressed you remembered the name of an actor, captain."

"Yeah, I watched a whole film the other night..."

Nik smiled. "A whole film. Impressive."

"Cheers." John lifted his hand to cup Nik's jaw, one hand on his knee. "Still wet my knickers for you, Nik, but tell me what else I can do t' help."

"Nothing, I am... I will be fine."

"Not like you to let some bird get under your skin like that. Sure there's nothin' else?"

Nik cleared his throat, looked to the side and then finally at John's face. "You do not wish to trade me in for a newer model?"

"Jesus fuck... waiter, il conto, per favore."

"Where are we going?"

"Back to the hotel room."

"Why?"

"'M gonna shag your brains out, since they're not functionin' particularly well on the inside. Up. Double time."

Nik reached for his wallet to pay but John had already slapped his credit card on the scanner by the time he looked up. He grabbed Nik's hand and dragged him down the few blocks to their hotel, where he intended to spend the rest of the afternoon making Nik feel like the hottest piece of arse on the planet.

[charliehoennam]

gentle giant

Summary: The Solomons enjoy quality family time with their young baby daughter as per request by @j23r23

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x F!reader

Warnings: fluff, language, mentions of pregnancy and natural childbirth, oc!daughter, hints at smut

SHARING IS CARING, SO REBLOG.

"She can't even play with that yet, Alf. She's too small" you told him when he brought home a large and lavish dollhouse, carried up to your daughter's nursery room by a couple of his men.

"Course she can't now. But, she will someday. Nothing but the best for my little Laura."

You chuckled and shook your head at his excitement, deciding to let him be happy because he genuinely was.

He has never been prouder of anything in his life.

It was needless to say that Alfie wasn't like most fathers of the time. Every day, you woke up feeling blessed and fortunate enough to be his wife.

Now, you are the mother of his child. Of his first born princess that he was already spoiling with all the finest little clothes and toys.

It's been a few months since you'd brought Laura into the world and Alfie's pride radiated as if he'd just learned he was going to be a father. Having expected the high of newfound fatherhood to fade away with late night nappy changes and early morning hungry cries, you were surprised to find that he was still so thrilled about being a father.

Not only was he proud of his little Laura, but he was still amazed beyond comprehension at your body.

During the pregnancy, he constantly marveled at the growing bump in your belly. Alfie was no fool; he understood perfectly well how a woman's body works, yet it was still the greatest miracle to him.

He never stopped calling you a Goddess for having the power to create life.

The birth of your daughter left him complete ecstasy.

Most men, especially in Jewish traditions, it was uncommon for the father to be present in the room for such a thing. But, then again, Alfie was no common man. He was always far from ordinary.

He insisted on being present to watch the miracle himself.

You'd talked about it before and assured him the midwives would take care of you. After all, he had hired the best staff to take care of you before, during and after the pregnancy.

He still continue to insist on being present - as long as you were comfortable with his presence - to watch his beloved daughter come into the world. He would've brought her out of you himself if only he knew how.

You wondered if it might have been instigated by the jealous thought of having a doctor between your legs.

You were more than grateful that he had insisted so strongly because you truly believe that, if it hadn't been for his motivating words and endearing support, you couldn't have done it by yourself.

Alfie had never cried so much in his entire life as he did when he first heard Laura's cries. You knew right away that Laura would have him wrapped around her wrinkly little finger.

And you were right.

It's late evening when Alfie comes home from an exhausting long day of work.

After hanging his hat and coat, he greets his favorite dog and heads off to search for you and his little Laura only to find you naked in the luxurious porcelain tub of your bathroom with your young 6-month-old daughter, sharing a warm bath.

"Well, ain't this a sight for sore eyes, eh?" he smirks from the doorway.

His heart warms as he sees your eyes light up.

"Baths always help her sleep better."

"Can't blame her," he nods unbuttoning his shirt. "Any room for me?"

"There's always room for you."

Of course there is. You hardly get much time to spend with your husband. The absence has him yearning for his family just the same.

He sinks into the opposite side of the tub with a tired groan, raising the water level to your swollen breasts.

"Give 'er here. Give 'er to poppa."

You carefully handed your daughter over to his hands.

Alfie holds her against his naked burly chest, kissing her head and cheeks as he informs her how much he's missed her in the softest tone.

"Daddy's missed you so much, princess. Yes, I have. Barely got see my little angel today. But that's alright, yeah? Poppa's here now, ain't he? You been good for your mother? Behaved yourself?" he questions as if she could respond, taking the small bowl to fill with water before gently pouring it over her back.

You watch leaning back against the porcelain, and admire the vulnerability of the big bad Alfie Solomons.

The word that spread around only spoke how cruel and cunning he was; of the horrors he was capable of and enjoyed inflicting upon those who betrayed him.

Yet, only you know how he could be the complete opposite. This version of him was for your eyes only and, for that, you felt blessed.

With his large hand cupped over Laura's little bare bum, he smiles as he relishes in the sounds of her giggles emitted every time he pours water over her back.

"Yeah, you like that, eh?" Alfie chuckles. "Want another go?"

She squeals happily as he repeats the action, excitedly pulling at his burly chest hair.

He yelps as he tries to unlatch her tiny fingers from his hairs.

"Got the grip of the Devil, don't she?"

"Tell that to my hair. Have to keep it up all the time so she doesn't turn me bald" you smile at him.

She giggles more enthusiastically as she pulls at them again.

"Ow! Laura, I am your father, young lady" he playfully chastises her.

"I think she takes after you."

"How so?"

"She enjoys hurting others."

"No, I enjoy hurting those who deserve it. I done nothing to deserve this" he chuckles at you.

"That's nothing compared to her biting my tits. If you think she's got hands of the Devil, try her teeth."

"They're starting to come in, innit?" he asks gently pulling her chin down to examine the two little white spots on her lower gums. "You never complained when I nibbled on them" he continues shooting a smirking glance at you.

"That was different" you chuckle back.

"I can be gentle" he replies with a wandering gaze at your chest.

"No. They're sore as fuck, Alf. They're off limits tonight."

"They're irresistible, they are. Fucking tripled in size, innit?" he chuckles. "Fucking 'ell, love. God is a cruel bloke, He is."

You laugh shaking your head. Alfie never fails to make you feel like a goddess, despite the worries you had about your changing body. It was exactly uncommon at the time for men to lose interest in their wives after pregnancy.

You'd seen many women go through it and you feared your fate would've been the same.

Thankfully, pregnancy had the opposite effect on Alfie. He was already eager to get started on the second child.

"All I'm saying is Laura will need a sibling when she's older."

Alfie's debating continued even after your shared bath. You're trying your cotton robe closed as he carries Laura into your bedroom where you had laid out her sleeping clothes beforehand.

"You say that all the time."

"Doesn't it make it less true. Besides, the fun part is trying."

Laying Laura down on the bed with a smirk, he stands upright and faces you.

The way he holds your waist has you melting under his touch. You take advantage of the moment to admire his details.

The wrinkles on his forehead, the disheveled light brown locks shining in the warm light of your room, the hairy tuffs that were peeking out from his robe.

You slide your palms up his strong arms until they rest on the back of his neck.

"Alright. I'll put her down for bed and we can have some fun time of our own" you smile sweetly at him.

His plush lips - hidden in his bushy brown beard - spread widely with mischief and excitement, infecting you with arousal as they made their way to press against your own.

You kiss him deliciously, letting his hand rest against your soft cheek. His tongue flicks against your bottom, already begging for entrance. You allow him it.

The kiss is more than enough to fuel the fire already sparked inside, in the depth of your cores. But you're both brought back to reality when Laura tiredly whines and rubs her sleepy eyes, kicking her chubby legs in the air out of frustration.

You part from Alfie's loving hold on you and bend down to scoop Laura up into your arms, assuring her everything is alright in gentle whispers.

Alfie watches how your loving nature is quick to soothe your fussy daugther in admiration. He loves watching you with her. His wife with his daughter in arms. His family.

All the words in every language would never be enough to describe the joy and pride you bring out in him.

Getting Laura to fall asleep is hardly a challenge. She was already tired from the long day and from staying up a bit past her bedtime.

Once you get her warmly dressed for the night, you sit in her nursery's rocking chair to give her one last feed.

She latches onto your nipple quickly, staring up at you with big doey eyes. The mixture of blue and gray remind you of Alfie. Her long lashes flutter as she slowly blinks, suckling for milk as she holds your index finger in her tiny hand.

You hum as you let her drink her fill, hoping to lull her sleep.

She can't resist the building sleep no matter how hard she tries. At this point, she's not even trying to drink anymore. Her eyelids grow heavier with every blink.

Gently tucking your breast back into your robe, you rest Laura's head against your shoulder as you gently pat her back to burp her.

She tries to fuss about having her favorite source of nutrition taken away, but her exhaustion dominates.

It doesn't her long to fall asleep.

Before setting Laura in her crib without stirring her too much, you kiss her head and thank the universe for blessing you such a precious little angel to care for and love.

Walking back to your room, you search Alfie but you find he's no longer there. So, you walk down the hall and the stairs in search of your husband, knowing exactly where to find him.

The office door is open as the light shines, providing the only light in the hallway. As you lean in the doorway, you smile and tap against the wooden door.

"She go down alright or put up a fuss?" Alfie smiles looking up at you from his paperwork.

"No fuss tonight. I think she was really tired." You walk into his office with a smile as you make your way towards him. "Now it's time for the grown-ups to have some fun."

Alfie smirks as his chair spins, watching you struct over to his side. His eyes scan over your frame, drinking in the sight of you as you untie your robe, letting the fabric part and shyly reveal your naked body.

"Unless you'd like to stay down here and work?"

He chuckles as he stands and kisses you tenderly, holding your face in his hands as if you're made of the most delicate and precious glass with his rough fingertips gently propping your chin up to make you face him.

"Love, the only work I've got to do is fucking you until you can't walk."

[robintherobiner]

I like to imagine Bruce hates guns. i dont think its like "flashback/panic attack" level considering he lives in gothams and he probably hears/sees guns every night and he probably trained himself to not flinch at them.

But i think he hates them. its why he never talks about Alfred willingness to kill, because that would mean acknowledging that there are guns hidden in his house. he and Kate have arguments about it every month. He refuses to let Jason into the cave unless he leaves his guns outside.

And none of the kids figure it out for years until one day, Bruce is sick and sleep deprived and walks in on the kids watching an action movie. theres a gunshot and Bruce just screams. he's too sick to think straight, he's too busy being teleported back to being 8 years old with blood on his suit. he' sceaming and crying and all of his kids are panicking because wtf-whats-wrong-with-him??!?!?

Alfred comes rushing in and whispers "Master Bruce, it's alright. Come back to me, dear boy. You are in the manor. You are fourty years old. You are alright. Open your eyes, it is not dark, you are not in the alley."

All the kids silently watch as their dad, the strong brave batman, sobs in Alfred's arms, begging, "Alfred, I want mom and dad. Please, you have to help them. They're bleeding, Alf. Make it stop."

[teddy06writes]

Hi! I hope you're doing okay! I say that you were taking Alfie requests and was wondering if it would be alright for me to ask this from the “i’ll keep you safe” prompts list you reblogged:

⋆ “either go to bed and get some rest willingly, or i will drag your ass down the hall kicking and screaming. you know i’ll have no problem with either option.”

I don't know why, but to me this seems like a very Alfie thing to do. Especially if he sees that his partner is overtired and yet too stubborn to get rest.

No pressure either way! Love your writing and thank you 🖤

"Either go to bed and get some rest willingly, or I will drag your ass down the hall kicking and screaming."

Alfie Solomons x gn!reader

Prompt: “Either go to bed and get some rest willingly, or i will drag your ass down the hall kicking and screaming. You know i’ll have no problem with either option.”

Trigger Warnings: Somehow only one (1) swear, (does that imply ooc alfie? Whos to say)

Summary: Lately, you've been overworking yourself, stretching yourself thin in an attempt to prove yourself to your new bosses. Alfie wants you to rest, and will have none of your excuses. Reader works at Ward, Lock & Co, a real publishing house based in London that opened originally in the 1850s and still functions as a member of a larger publishing group today.

{Look at me putting my degree work to use :D Reader is meant to be an editorial assistant}

{Thanks so much for requesting!!}

You'd been working for hours. The stack of folders you had brought home with you for the weekend, stuffed full with unread manuscripts, had barely seemed to shrink. The editor you reported to had all but dumped the stack on your desk in the office, asking you to sift through the slushpile to find something worth while.

You'd only been at this job a month, and you wanted so desperately to prove that you were worthy of staying with the company. To prove that you had what it took to become a senior editor one day.

The manuscript in front of you was by far not the worst thing you'd read today, but as the hour grew later and your eyelids grew heavier, it only got more and more boring. You found yourself reading the same sentence over and over again.

You underlined another particularly well written piece of dialogue, hardly even noticing as footsteps made their way down the hall toward you.

"Treacle?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of your husband's voice, looking up from your work to find him leaning against the door frame, "Jesus- Alf you scared me half to death!"

He let out a quiet chuckle, venturing further into the room, "You comin to bed love? It's gettin late."

You nodded absently, already focused back on the pages before you, "Mhhm."

Alfie surveyed the scene in front of him with knowing eyes. From the dark circles gathering under your eyes, to the long since abandoned cup of tea he'd brought you earlier in the day, forgotten and threatening to be lost in the midst of your so called 'controlled chaos'. He knew you had been working hard, he understood why you felt you needed to prove yourself so desperately.

Still, it hurt his heart to see you pushing yourself like this. You, who always badgered him into taking breaks and staying home from the bakery on the days his sciatica was bothering him.

You stifled a yawn, rubbing at one of your eyes with the heel of your hand.

"Treacle?" He tried again, hovering at the edge of your desk.

You looked up at him, blinking owlishly, as if you'd almost forgotten he was there, "Alfie?"

"Are you coming to bed or not?"

You glanced back down at the pages before looking back up at him, "I've got to get this done. Just this one more and then I'll be in, okay?"

"Just the one?" He raised an eyebrow. It was never just one.

Still, you nodded seriously, "Just the one."

Alfie sighed, but moved to make himself comfortable on the sofa the two of you had chosen to furnish your study with, so long ago now, for when you needed company while you worked.

From there, he watched as the hour grew later and later, and your head drooped lower and lower. While you were making some progress, it was clear that you wouldn't be finishing that submission tonight.

Eventually, Alfie stood, making his way back to your desk, and put a hand on your shoulder, gently, "Treacle, come on, give it a rest love."

"I need to finish this, Alfie!"

He let out an exasperated sigh, "Petal, you're worn out. Let's get to bed, and you can finish this in the morning, yeah?"

You crossed your arms, "You don't understand! If I can't handle this- If I can't get through this, they'll think I'm no good for the job! Alfie-"

"Ah, ah, ah, none of that now, love," He cut you off, grabbing your hands and gently pulling you up out of your chair, "That's just your being tired talking yeah?"

"Alf..."

Alfie's voice stayed gentle and calm, "Listen to me, sweetness, yeah? Either go to bed and get some rest willingly, or i will drag your ass down the hall kicking and screaming. You know i’ll have no problem with either option.”

You sighed, leaning into him, "Fine."

He beamed, "That's more like it."

Alfie was quick to guide you back down the hall, and within a matter of minutes, you were tucked safely within his arms, fast asleep.

~~~~ Enjoy this fic? Support me on kofi :)

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hi, I’m not sure if you still write for the batfamily but can I request them and a sick teen reader, who’s also in the batfamily and a vigilante with them and they get sick but refuse to rest

Batfam with a sick teen reader

Headcanons

I like to imagine the reader is the best and worst part of different batfam members combined into one person. Meaning he gives the family heart attacks on the regular.

You weren’t the oldest, or the youngest, member of the batfam. You were only a few months younger than Tim, making you older than Damian but younger than the others.

You were the 13th child of a great warrior who had built a group of expert warriors, think like the league of assassins but smaller and more lowkey.

Because of your tough upbringing, and your siblings always outshining you, you have always felt a deep need to show no weakness and appear stronger than you are.

This means you work extremely hard to be a great member of the batclan, going by the name Red Bat. It had started out as a joke, as you wore a helmet that appeared to have the same ears as Bruces, but was red in color. It hadn’t been on purpose, but you had come to like the name.

The family are impressed with how hard you work, though it also worries them because you work yourself to the bone sometimes, never accepting failure and punishing yourself when you don’t do good, by your own standards.

In the beginning when you joined the family, you had some struggles with Damian, Tim, and Duke, as they are the closest to your age, and you are so used to having to claw yourself into the light, to get any positive attention from a father figure or to stand out.

So, it caused some tension, but after you started settling in and you all started bonding, it went away for the most part. A small part of your soul, deeply hidden inside, still feels like you aren’t good enough and never will be, and there might be some faint jealousy of the rest of the family. It doesn’t get in the way of you loving them all though.

Bettering your relationship with the family hasn’t slowed down your excessive training though, or how roughly you treat yourself. Cass ends up having to just resort hugging you until you allow yourself to relax. Damian will train with you, but does it with the purpose of tiring you out without causing any damage. If anybody knows what it’s like, it’s Cass and Damian, so they never blame you.

Because of your extremely high standards for yourself, you never slow down, even when you are sick. You’ll go as long as possible, hiding your sickness from the family until you literally can’t anymore.

And even then, you keep pushing yourself and brushing off their concern. The only one who seemingly can pull you away from your spiral with no struggle, is Alfed, because its Alfred, and no one goes against Alfred.

The rest of the family would try different ways to make you rest.

Dick would wrap a weighted blanket around you when you are at the batcomputer, and lean against you as you work, just telling you about his day. It works sometimes, because you always feel safe around him, so if you are already exhausted and drowsy, it can put you out.

Jason hovers in the background too, maybe brings you some of your favorite food from downtown, sits nearby. If you are really sick, he will scold you in the way he does, prodding at you till you go to bed to rest. If its really bad, he will throw you over his shoulder and force you to rest.

Cass is always the first to spot when you are sick, and always gives you small, disappointed frowns when you push yourself too hard, and her reaction probably makes your heart ache the most. She pulls you from your work to watch a movie with her, making sure to wrap you in blankets and keep you close until you fall asleep.

Tim is the type to sit beside you when you work, since hes not the pinnacle of health most times too. Might use it as a “if you go rest, I will to” to force you to go, since you love your brother very much and want him to get better too. The rest of the fam regularly finds you guys passed out over a case together.

Duke hovers too, brings you medicine and will talk to you about his day to keep you distracted from whatever is keeping you awake and active. He understands pushing yourself even when you are sick, and knows that forcing you to go rest wont help, so he tries to subtly push you in that direction instead of pushing you.

Damian scowls nearby, probably gives you some speech about how being sick will make you less lethal and weaker, and then you can’t do your job as Red Bat at all. Resorts to dumping different batclan animals on you until you have no choice. You end up laying against batcow, Jerry the turkey beside you, Alfred the cat in your lap, Titus and Ace laying around you, you get the point.

Bruce looms and hovers, since he’s not the best with words. Its easy to tell he’s worried when he keeps pacing near you or keeping an eye on you. Will matter of factly tell you that you need rest, brings you a blanket or other comfort items.

If you try to run off on patrol, Barbara is quick to tell the others what you are up too. If you are really sick, they’ll whisk you back to the manor kicking and screaming if they have too, as being extremely sick can put you at risk.

If its milder, they’ll just hover nearby and keep a close eye on you and your physical state.

The first few times it happened, it caused a huge argument because of your inability to let yourself rest, and because that sick twisted part inside you was sure it was because they saw you as weak or a burden, like your first siblings did, since there was no excuse for weakness in your first family.

It results in them, and especially Bruce because he’s the one you look up to the most, having to sit down with you and explain that there’s nothing wrong with being sick or so called “weak”, and that its okay to take a rest when you need it.

It also results in the rest of the family having to lead by example, because you’ll always snip and point out how they’re not resting when they are sick, so why should you.

Alfred thanks the circumstances and that the family all love each other so much, he’s been trying to get the batfam try to take breaks and rest when sick for years, and now that they must be someone you can look up too, they’ll actually do it.

It becomes kind of a game to force the sick family members to rest, lotsa blanket burritos and the sick person always ends up with Alfred the cat curled up on their chest purring somehow. Its especially fun when its Bruce that’s sick, because you all have to hound him an extra amount for him to take care of himself.

[loulouwrites]

BIRTHDAYS . ALFIE SOLOMONS

summary: birthdays are a big event in the solomons household - especially when it's alfie's favourite daughter's big day. warnings: swearing, children being children, complicated family dynamics, fluff, alfie loves all his children equally (honest), unedited word count: 2.2k a/n: nobody asked for this but here's a lil birthday story. this is the last of the prewritten stories but there's definitely more to come. ( i wrote this three melatonin deep so, if it makes no sense, forgive me!)

Alfie woke up to what felt like a ton of bricks being thrown onto his stomach.

"Fuckin' hell," he groaned, the bed bouncing up and down, jostling him from his sleep.

"Fucking hell," a little voice giggled from beside him and his eyes shot open at the sound. His daughter was kneeling beside him on the bed, already dressed for the day, wearing a frilly dress that reminded Alfie of a trifle, and pink ribbons in her - usually - wild hair.

"It's by birthday, dad," Bessie laughed, still bounching up and down on the bed.

"Have you already had your cake, Bess?" Alfie sat up begrudginly, leaning against the headboard, holding his arms out so Bessie could climb in his lap.

"Waiting for daddy," she pointed a finger at him in a way that reminded him of her mother, she was going through a phase of imitating everybody around her - it was endearing when she imitated her mum, less so when she imitated him.

"Well, we best get a move on, then," he swung his feet out of the bed, dragging the now three year old with him, her laughter drowning out the groan he let out due to the strain in his back from carrying the girl that seemed to get heavier everyday.

He carried her into the kitchen, ruffling Benjamin's hair as he passed him, the boy sitting quietly at the table eating his breakfast.

"Alfie, put her down," his wife warned as she fussed with the cake on the bench, little Noah perched on her hip, sucking on his thumb, taking in the scene. He was the calmest of the three children so far, he was only four months old, but Alfie swore he was going stay like that until adulthood - always calm, always studying those around him.

Alfie obeyed his wife, placing Bessie gently on the ground and walking to approach his wife, his daughter following close behind him, eyes fixed on the cake her mother was almost done perfecting.

He placed a chaste kiss on her lips, and then one on little Noah's hair, not oblivious to the toddler gripping onto his leg. He eyed the cake suspiciously, the colourful icing and decorations feeling like an assault on his eyes.

"What happened to a Vicky sponge? When did these things have to get all fancy?" He lifted a finger to touch the cake, but his hand was swatted away before he could reach - and ruin - it.

"It's the fashion now, old man, you need to get used to it," she smiled, raking her eyes up and down his body, her eyes narrowing. "Why aren't you dressed? It's nearly ten, Alf, party starts at twelve."

"Fuckin' hell, I'll go now," he groaned, reaching down to pick up Bessie from her place beside him, muttering to her as they left the kitchen together. "Your mum is so horrible on birthdays."

"Mum is horrible," Bessie laughed along, not really knowing what she was saying.

"It's not fair! Bessie got more presents than I did," Benjamin huffed, arms crossed over his chest from his seat on the sofa, his mother rubbing his shoulder soothingly.

"Will you stop your whining?" Alfie spoke to his son, he was sat cross legged on the floor, helping Bessie open the perfectly wrapped presents, the floor covered in floral wrapping paper.

His mother leaned in to her son's side, pulling him to her gently. "Yours were more expensive," she winked, earning a smile from the boy.

"A baby!" Bessie laughed as she opened her final present, the fabric doll with bright red hair and rosy cheeks making Alfie jump from his seat on the floor.

"Fuckin' hell," he took the doll from his daughter's hands, holding it up to show the other three people in the room. "It's uglier than Benny when he was born."

"Alfie!-"

"Dad-"

The mother and son chastised the man, the little girl throwing her head back as she laughed.

"We're the only one's with a sense of humour in this house, Bess," he muttered, handing the ugly doll back to her.

The doorbell rang at exactly twelve, and Alfie answered with Bessie dangling upside down in his arms.

"Oh, it's you," he said flatly when he saw the woman on the other side of the door.

"Bubbee!" Bessie shrieked, wriggling to get out of her father's grip, and he let her down as gently as possible, which wasn't easy considering she was upside down. Bessie slid ungracefully to the floor, picking herself up, unphased, throwing her arms around her grandmother.

"Happy birthday, Elisabeth," she smiled, and Alfie rolled his eyes, Bessie's head turned to him, a frown on her face.

"Who's Lisabeth?"

"Come in," Alfie turned before the woman could respond, speaking under his breath, "or fuck off home, I don't care."

"I hope I'm not too early," the older woman spoke as she trailed behind him. "I was told twelve."

Alfie ignored her, stalking into the kitchen where his wife was pulling some form of baked good out of the oven - she went overboard in his opinion.

"Your mother's here," he said in an overly cheerful tone, gesturing to where the woman stood behind him.

"Hello-"

The woman interrupted her daughter's greeting, moving to inspect the birthday cake that was now presented on a crystal stand on the kitchen table.

"Is this the cake?" She raised a brow, and Alfie lifted his head to the ceiling, taking a deep breath. "It's awfully fancy, you were lucky if you got a Victoria sponge."

His head snapped to his wife, who was now standing with a sly grin on her face.

"It's funny you should say that mum, because Alfie-"

"It ain't fancy at all," Alfie interrupted with a scoff. "Anyways, our Elisabeth deserves the best, don't ya, Lis?" He scopped his daughter up in his arms.

"Who is Lis?" She frowned.

The doorbell rang, breaking the awkward tension in the room.

"Thank fuck for that," Alfie sighed, carrying Bessie to answer the door for the second time.

In hindsight, inviting twenty people with twenty toddlers into their home wasn't the best idea. The house had been filled with screams of laughter and terror for the better part of two hours, and it was driving Alfie mental.

He didn't really like kids, he thought they were dirty, messy and stupid. His children were the exeption, they were clever and clean - even four month old Noah had better manners than some of these three year olds. If Bessie's birthday taught him anything, it was that the only children he liked were his own.

"You want a drink, Alf?" His wife's brother? cousin? asked him holding up a glass of whiskey from the other side of the living room.

"Don't touch it...mate," Alfie declined, shaking his head in disgust at the gesture. He was telling the truth, this day not only marked the birth of his daughter, but the last time he had a sip of alcohol - determined not to have a repeat of three years ago. He was proud himself for that, he had never been a big drinker, even in his younger days, but he never felt obligated to swear off the stuff until the day Bessie was born - whether it was because he felt genuine guilt, or the reoccuring nightmare regarding Ms Abrams and that Charles Dickens book, he wasn't too sure.

Bessie was asleep next to him on the sofa when his wife approached with a cup of tea, the little girl's mouth open, pink icing still smeared across her face, it was the first time she'd fallen asleep before her bedtime since the day she was born.

"Your family drinks too much," Alfie eyed the fathers in the corner of the room, growing more rowdy as the minutes ticked by, the expensive bottle of whiskey he bought his wife for his birthday now empty, barely a drop left.

She raised a brow at him, "is that a fucking joke? A Solomons is saying my family drinks too much?"

"We sell, we don't drink."

"You don't drink, your cousins on the other hand?" She shook her head as if she were trying to shake the thought of his family away. She had only met them a handful of times, at weddings or funerals, and she was happy to keep their interactions at a minimum, lest she receive another black eye from being shoved away during a drunken scuffle.

"My family are fun," Alfie protested, though there was no real fight in his tone. "Yours are drunk and stuck up."

"It's a three year old's birthday, Alfie. I'd take drunk and stuck up over hammered and violent."

There was a smile on her face as she spoke, his family was fun, though she would never admit it.

He kicked everyone out at five. throwing his arms up as he herded them out of the house, wishing them well and thanking them for coming, not caring about their response.

"Yeah, bye now, Rachel, by now," he said, closing the door on his wife's aunt before she could say anything in response. He slumped against the closed against the closed door, his forehead pressing into the cool wood, closing his eyes relishing the sound of silence.

"Alfie."

"Fuck," he shouted, spinning around to face his mother-in-law, who was stood directly behind him, her hat on her head and gloves on her hands. "You leavin' so soon?"

"It was nice seeing you, Alfie but I don't want to overstay my welcome," she offered him a strained smile.

"You?" His eyes widened, a fake smile on his face. "Never." He opened the door for her, not waiting until she had fully passed the threshold before slamming it shut.

The family were sat in the living room in silence, the chaotic mess surrounding them completely forgotten as they savoured the calmnmess that enveloped the house since the last guest left.

Bessie was still flat out at Alfie's side, Noah sleeping against his mother's chest.

"Dad?" Benjamin said from Alfie's other side, and Alfie opened one eye to glance at his son. "Is Bessie your favourite?"

"Now what makes you think that?" Alfie opened both of his eyes, sitting up carefully as to not wake the birthday girl.

"You say it all the time."

"Well...yeah, I suppose I do," he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "No, she isn't, because I don't have a favourite."

Benajamin offered his father a skeptical look, one that clearly said 'I don't believe you.'

“Okay, the truth is, your sister needs more reassurance than you do," he gestured his son to lean in, whispering in his ear, "you're my real favourite."

Benjamin smiled a toothy smile, jumping up from the sofa and happily running up the stairs to his bedroom.

His wife grinned at him from the seat across from him.

"Liar," she whispered.

It was six o'clock when the doorbell rang, and everybody's head lifted to glance at the door from the dining room table.

"Now, who could that be?" Alfie rose dramatically from his chair, his eyes flickering in between his two oldest children, "I wonder if it's Bessie and Benjamin's big present." He strode towards the front door, ignoring his wife's panicked calling of his name.

"About time," he spat at Ollie, motioning for him to come inside, the present following behind the two men apprehensively.

The children were sat up straight in their seats when he returned to the dining room, a smile on his face, their hopeful expressions turning into ones of pure joy when they saw the four legged creature sat at his feet, panting happily.

"Please don't hurt me," Ollie whispered, his eyes fixed on the woman sat at the dining table, a scowl on her face.

"A doggy!" Bessie screamed, jumping down from her chair and running to kneel in front of the animal, Benjamin following her happily.

"It's fucking massive, Alfie," his wife spat, her arms crossed across her chest. "Where did it even come from?"

"Funny story that," he pointed to the Ollie, then to the dog. "Ollie found it, behind the bakery, getting beaten half to death by some cunt, poor thing...truly fucked up what happened to it...and Ollie brought it into the bakery," his wife glared at him but he continued on, "yesterday all this happened, why I was so late home."

"What happened to the owner, dad?" Benjamin asked, patting the happy dog on its head, laughing as she leaned in to lick his face gratefully.

"Well..." Alfie cocked his head to the side, "gave 'im a little warning, didn't I? He won't be harmin' no more dogs, let's put it that way."

"Can we keep her, mum?" Benjamin asked.

"Well I can't say no now, can I?" She huffed, crossing her arms across her chest, unmoved by her children's cheers.

"What's her name?" Bessie asked, hugging the dog around its broad shoulders.

"She don't have one, yet, thought the birthday girl should choose," he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Don't she look a bit like bubbee?"

"Bubbee!" Bessie squealed, "Name's bubbee!" The dog lurched up at the sound of her new name, knocking the toddler back as it licked her face gently.

"Fucking hell!" Bessie laughed, and her mother's eyes widened.

Alfie's eyes locked with his wife's, and he pointed to the little girl.

"Favourite," he mouthed.

[tikosblogg]

Request for this anon. Hope you enjoy!

Warning: dirty talk, fingering, possessive Noah. Jealous Noah.

“You guys wanna go eat?” Jolly asked walking into the living room, where me and the rest of the guys were sprawled out on the couch. We were all having a chill day, just hanging out together. Jolly’s my older brother, and he flew me out to LA for the month while they were on break. I was super close with all of them, they were all like my older brothers.

Except for Noah. Ever since the first time I’ve met him, I’ve had a huge crush on him. A crush that eventually turned into deep feelings. How could I not? He was so sweet, and very protective, sometimes he was almost…dare I say? Possessive. Which only made my attraction to him stronger.

Sadly in the end, it will never happen. A few months ago, we had a drunken moment at their album release party. He had confessed he had feelings as well, we even shared a heated a kiss. The next day, we talked and he said we couldn’t act on our feelings anymore. That a relationship wouldn’t work, and that he couldn’t do that to jolly.

As heartbroken as I was, I understood. Just getting to have Noah in my life at all is a blessing. Everyone looked at each other, eventually nodding in agreement. We all piled into the car, headed to some Italian restaurant. I sat in the back squeezed between nick, and Noah. Noah threw his arm behind my head, resting it on the back of the seat, our thighs pressed firmly against each other.

The urge to lean into his side, was torcher. I could smell his Cologne, which only made my struggle to not jump his bones in the back of this car unbearable. After about 10 more minutes of suffering, we finally arrived to the restaurant and climbed out of the car. We made our way inside, quickly being sat at one of the round tables.

Everyone grabbed a seat, the last one being between folio and Noah. We all sat down, the guys talking, and laughing about something I completely missed, as I looked over the menu. Our waiter eventually came, taking all of our drink orders. “And for you beautiful?” I looked up at him, a slight blush on my cheeks from the compliment.

He was cute, and looked around my age. “I’ll have a water with lemon please.” He smiled, sending me a wink. “Of course.” I heard a scoff to my right, as the waiter walked away. I looked over at Noah, who was no longer laughing with the guys. Sending a glare the waiters way. I bumped my shoulder against his, with a confused look. “What’s wrong?”

He looked at me, shaking his head rejoining the guys conversation. I let it go, going back to my menu. Five minutes later, the waiter came back to take our orders. Everyone gave theirs, me going last. The waiter turned towards, sending a charming smile my way. “And what can I get for you sweetheart?” I blushed again, relaying my order. “Can I just have the chicken Alf-.”

A hand landing high up on my thigh, made me choke on my words. Everyone looked at me with concern, even Noah the culprit himself. “You okay?” I sent him a look, before clearing my throat. “Yes sorry, can I just get the chicken Alfredo?” The waiter nodded, taking our menus back, leaving us again.

I looked down to my lap, at Noah’s hand still resting on my thigh, gripping it firmly. I looked around to make sure none of the guys noticed. Nick, folio, and jolly were mid deep in a conversation oblivious to anything going on around them. “What’s wrong angel.?” I turned my head towards Noah, leaned in closer to me talking low as to not draw attention to us.

His hand went up higher, his fingers grazing my now damp panties under my skirt. I cleared my throat again, to hide the moan desperately trying to leave my mouth. I heard Noah chuckling beside me, as he looked down at his phone. What on earth is he doing? And why is he doing it here? Why now??

My thoughts were interrupted at our waiter coming to refill our drinks. I thanked him, as he smiled at me. “No problem gorgeous. What’s your name? You look kind of familiar.” I felt my breath hitch, as Noah roughly shoved his two fingers into my panties straight into my core. “Uhhhhhhhh.” My mind went completely blank, as I tried to keep it together.

Noah looked at me with a soft teasing smile. “Tell him your name angel.” I looked at him, as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out. “Um y/- y/n. My name is y/n.” I finally stammered out, with an awkward smile. “We’re gonna go smoke before the food comes out.” Jolly, and both nicks stood up making their way out of the restaurant.

Noah nodded his head, pumping his fingers a little faster. I let out a deep sigh, trying so hard to keep moans at bay. “That’s a pretty name.” The waiter smiled, as I nodded a thank you his way. “Such a pretty name angel.” Noah spoke lowly, holding such intense eye contact with me. At some point the waiter had walked away.

Too lost in Noah, I didn’t notice. He crooked his fingers up, hitting that spot inside of me that made me see stars. I gasped, hanging my head low. Softly rutting my hips into his hand. “Noah…please.” I quietly begged. What for? I don’t even know. “You think he could do this better than me baby? Make you feel better than I do?”

I quickly shook my head, as his fingers pumped faster. I was struggling to breathe at this point. He’s jealous? Since when? A few waiters came back placing our food down, as the guys came back. Everyone dug into their food, as I sat struggling to keep it together. A few more pumps, and whispered encouragement from Noah, I came all over his fingers.

“Good girl angel.” I let out a soft whimper, trying to collect myself. “Dude this food tastes amazing.” Folio groaned, shoveling his food into his mouth. Noah slowly pulled his fingers out of me, sticking them into his mouth. I watched in awe, as he sucked my release off fingers with a groan “tastes so fucking amazing.” I blushed hard, looking down at my food. Suddenly not feeling hungry for the chicken Alfredo…

[weightless-feathers]

Hi there! It's been a while, I won't elaborate, you can have this human Alf pixel art and forget I haven't posted in like a month.

Also, here's a chibi Kay I drew using a sketch of @alcachofasaurius as a base, her "human" Kay design is awesomeeeeeeeeee.

[tpsnarratorfn1910]

i like your art :-] one simple request, trans scars roba... giggles

Thank you! ^..^ here you go:

Horace: I'm happy for you Roba👍

Alfe: Woah! Roba! You made it through the surgery! Where did they put your breast meat? Do they use it to make chicken nuggets?!

Roba: ALFE!!!

Happy pride month lol 💙💟🤍💟💙❣️🧡💛💚💙💜

[phantongator]

Hi it’s Problem Solverz headcanon time

Problem Solvers Headcanon Time

Horace (Problem Solverz leader)

Age: 19

Gander: Male

Pronouns: he/him

Sexuality: bisexual 

Family: Roba (twin brother), Thaz (adoptive mother and landlady), Alfe (technical pet)

sometimes has a habit of smoking, he’s trying to quit but often sneaks a cigarette or two in.

he STILL loves Sweetie Creame even though he knows damn fucking well that she was evil.

almost always has to look after both Alfe and Roba (mostly Roba) when they’re left alone together.

he and Roba spent their first 6 years at an abusive orphanage (technically 5 years since their parents were killed when Horace and Roba were only 1.)

He found Alfe in a sewer when he was 11 and Alfe was a months old.

He is very athletic and plays soccer on the weekends when there aren’t any problems to solve.

Temporarily had a fear of the forest (ever since he was 4 he was purposefully left alone in the forest by the orphanage headmaster as a punishment for absolutely no reason other than to traumatize him for fun. Yea Horace and Roba had the worst childhood.) He got over his fear thanks to Tux Dog.

Horace HATES coffee (he instead settles for tea or sugar free energy drinks)

- During childhood Horace would often sing to Roba at night so they could both fall asleep.

He’s a total workaholic!

Roba (Problem Solverz nerd)

Age: 19

Gender: Trans male (FtM)

Pronouns: he/him 

Sexuality: transgender + gay

Family: Horace (twin brother), Thaz (adoptive mother and landlady), Alfe (technical pet), quite a few random ex-boyfriends 

he is Autistic (he often stims, is socially awkward, and has identity issues.)

he still wears bras sometimes, mainly bras that are super tight and help flatten out his chest (technically they’re binders)

he transitioned from female to male at age 13 (he only got top surgery because he’s not ready for bottom surgery ever, idk why I brought that up, but those who know, know.)

He has many allergies, including (listing these from least severe to most severe) longhair dogs, pollen, raspberries, beans, hornets, and peanuts.

Horace NEVER lets him eat sweets (especially chocolate and fudge) after 8 PM. Trust me, you do not want to encounter Roba when he’s high on sugar (you’d immediately be dead if you were even MADE of sugar.)

he’s kinda a femboy, and when he’s not wearing his usual robot outfit, he likes wearing crop tops or oversized hoodies, sometimes even wearing a dress if you’re lucky

He has a part-time job working as a Femboy Mooters (parody to Hooters) waiter, and that’s how the Solverz are able to pay the bills.

He is chubby because of all the empty insults Tux Dog throws at him, and because the trio order pizza A LOT BECAUSE OF A CERTAIN BROWN SOMEONE!!! Roba also stress eats a lot in private so there’s also that, and he can eat more than Alfe can (he REFUSES to admit that)

Roba still acts very feminine despite transitioning into a man, and he likes buying and doing luxurious stuff because it feels nice and he thinks it’ll make Tux Dog like him more (also Roba smells like lavender and vanilla 24/7, and Tux Dog hates lavender smell.)

Underneath his helmet is longish blond hair, overgrown haircut, it’s usually greasy because Roba rarely takes off his helmet.

Alfe (Problem Solverz Fur Monster)

Age: 8 (18 in fur monster years)

Gender: Male

Pronouns: he/him

Sexuality: pansexual

Family: unnamed fur monster parents (deceased), a whole bunch of unnamed brothers and sisters (unknown whereabouts), Horace and Roba (technical owners)

- Alfe is overweight 

- Alfe secretly throws fur monster parties when Horace and Roba are not in the house

- While he can eat ALMOST anything, Alfe is allergic to seafood (especially shellfish.) He’s also allergic to cats (or at least only Badcat.)

- Chocolate is also poisonous to him but they’re like apple seeds, he needs to eat a whole bunch of chocolate to get sick.

- in my artstyle I usually draw him like a wolf simply because I’m a furry (but I can draw him in his canon design)

- he is closer to Horace than Roba

- Alfe is pansexual but he is more attracted to girls (same with Horace but Horace is bi)

- Alfe wants to smoke weed and do crack but Horace always says no, so Alfe has to sneak it in when Horace isn’t around.

- Although Alfe takes a shower in the toilet, Alfe doesn’t always smell like shit because he’s forced to wear one of those car scent pine tree things around his neck.

- Alfe deeply loves both Horace and Roba, so he gets lonely when they’re not around (that’s why he throws parties.) he’s afraid of being abandoned.

[starwarsmum]

Day 11! I'm not Crazy

@maribat-calendar-events

AO3 Link

As soon as Marinette returned from her trip to New York she was subjected to the watchful eyes of Adrien and Alfred. It was maybe necessary for the first day, when her head still felt like it had been hit by a baseball bat, but after three days she was ready to tear her hair out. 

It didn't help that Tim had snitched on her, telling everyone just how she'd gotten injured. She'd decided to enact revenge by talking loudly about how swoon worthy Superboy was, and lamenting that the trip had ended. She could see the irritated look on Tim's face and it made being stuck away from her screens and apartment almost worth it. 

“Mari, please, I know you're annoyed but this is getting out of control,” Tim complained. “And I know you don't mean it, so can you just-” 

“First of all, annoyed is not the word I would use. I'm not sure there's a strong enough word currently, but annoyed isn't it,” she cut in, eyes narrowing at him. “Secondly, who says I don't mean it? Your friend is extremely good looking, Timbit.” 

“I know that,” Tim said, exasperated. “Fine, so it's true love or whatever, at least on your side. As long as I'm in the wedding party I'll be thrilled, so can we please forget about this for now? Alf said this is your last day of bed rest!” 

Marinette just rolled her eyes and went back to sketching, lips pursing slightly. After a short while, Tim loped off to do something else and she got lost in her work. Chloé had commissioned her for a piece and she was determined to get it done as quickly as she could. She sort of owed the blonde for looking out for Adrien for the whole month. 

That evening, she and Adrien were due to have a catch up with Alya and Nino. They tried to do it as often as possible but Marinette had sat the last call out because nobody trusted the screen time while they thought she was still concussed. They shut the door, making it all as soundproof as it got, and waited for Alya to confirm they were free. 

“You know, I think Tim gets it,” Adrien said casually after a minute or two. When Marinette shot him a confused look he chuckled. “The whole…Superboy thing. You don't have to keep on waxing poetic about his arms.” 

“I mean, have you seen his arms? He's ripped,” Marinette said, sighing and flopping back onto the pillows. “I know he's part Kryptonian but he is unfairly strong and he princess-carried me. If he'd done it to you I guarantee you'd be reminiscing often.” 

“Multi, you're not…you know he's a flirt. All everyone ever says is that he does it on reflex and doesn't really do the whole relationship thing. So even if you like him, I don't think it's going anywhere.” 

“I know, but…it's nice to flirt. Not that he did much of that beyond that first meeting. But still, he's very good at it and it made me feel more at ease with them all.” 

She probably would have had more quizzing if it weren't for Alya choosing that moment to call first. The first thing out of Alya's mouth was a fondly exasperated recrimination for getting involved in something as a civilian. Pointing out that she couldn't transform without giving away her identity didn't win her any points but it did get Alya moving onto the more pressing part of the call, at least in Marinette's eyes.

“If the Bats already know your identity, I guess there's no point in you not being on the WatchTower,” Alya mused, frowning. “I'd really like for no more identities to get revealed though, okay?” 

“Yeah, that's fair,” Marinette said, smiling broadly. Whilst she was reluctant to let go of the freedom she'd gained by being out of the game, she really did want to do good. The incident with the concussion really reminded her that she was better off committing to the team so she could get more training time in. “So when do you want me to come up? I can join Adrien and go with the Bats.” 

“How does tonight sound? There's a fairly boring meeting but it gives us a chance to get you introduced without it being a super important thing,” Alya suggested, leaning back so that she could rest against Nino fully. 

“It sounds perfect! Thank you thank you thank you!” Marinette squealed, sitting up and hugging Adrien since Alya wasn't there. 

“Uh, isn't it your last day of bed rest, Mouse?” Adrien asked, brows knitting together. 

“Yeah, but the meeting is tonight. It'll be early evening at least when we go up, so fair game.” 

“I get the feeling Alfred is going to get weirdly specific with your recovery instructions in future,” was all Adrien commented.

_ _ _

Alfred was not happy with Marinette's logic for getting past his recommendations for her health. But he had been very explicit that it was her last day of bed rest and she had refused to accept any changes to his orders. So she transformed in the cave and followed them all through the Zeta tube to the WatchTower. 

Everyone dispersed pretty quickly, Damian shooting off to talk to Jon, Marinette and Adrien heading for Scarabella, and Tim following Bruce to start filling in the last pieces of paperwork to officially induct Multimouse. By the time they were ready to start the meeting Tim had to actively look for Marinette as she was no longer standing with either members of her team. 

Seeing Marinette, as Multimouse, being welcomed to the WatchTower was bizarre. Gone was the goofy, sarcastic, scattered young woman that Tim had gotten used to. In her place was a confident, serious, focused heroine that Tim could absolutely believe would execute a twelve step plan flawlessly. It was like he was back at the airport, working with Multimouse for the first time.

She was speaking passionately with Wonder Woman about Amazonian culture and the possibility of training in their fighting style, and Wonder Woman was every bit as engaged as she was in the conversation. Scarabella had introduced the pair and it had been non stop talking since. 

About twenty minutes later - when were they going to start this meeting? - Tim saw the door open and, before he could react, something blurred past him, directly at Marinette, letting loose a battle cry. She responded instantly, dropping to the floor to evade the sudden sword attack. She didn't even stop talking, finishing her sentence and taking hold of her jump rope. 

In moments, Marinette was using her power to up the ante, her miniatures flying along Damian's blade and managing to disarm him. The latest boy wonder snarled and swung his arm out, a knife slipping out from his sleeve. It nailed one of the clones in the leg, not managing to cut through the fabric but having sufficient force to knock her back before she could maneuver fully. 

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Scarabella demanded, her voice cutting across the room and stopping Marinette dead in her tracks. Instantly she reformed and stood, looking contrite. “That was crazy and dangerous, you can't just attack each other!”

“We aren't crazy! That's just how we greet each other,” Marinette said automatically, though she winced and bit her lip at her own outburst. She hadn't meant to upset Alya but she could kind of see why this had. 

“It is crazy, actually! Insane, in fact. Normal greetings are like saying ‘hi!’ or ‘good morning’, not whatever the hell you two were doing!” Alya said, exasperated. She was glaring at Damian with blatant hostility, her eyes narrowed. 

“Tt, Multimouse is capable of many things and you should have more faith in her abilities,” Damian grumbled, pointing his face away petulantly. “Do you not have faith that she can hold her own in the suit? Even out of her suit she is competent.” 

“Awww, I knew you thought I was a decent fighter!” Marinette squealed, darting forward and ruffling the kid's hair. She narrowly dodged the tip of his sword, which he had reclaimed as soon as she had backed off, and laughed as she darted backwards. “Jeez, touchy much? Superboy Junior, how do you put up with that?” 

“You know that wasn't really a compliment, right? Multi, it's important to me that you know he didn't give you a real compliment,” Tim said, brow furrowed in concern. 

“What do you mean, of course that was a compliment,” the younger Superboy said, smiling at Marinette. “I don't think he even flinched when he said it, so that's, like, a double compliment.” 

“That's enough,” Bruce said, coming in at last to begin the meeting. People settled pretty quickly, Marinette joining her team instead of sitting with any of the Bats. It was important that she make it clear who she was there for, regardless of who she had arrived with. 

True to Alya's promise, the meeting was boring and perfunctory. The reason for the delay in the start time was made clear when Superman had apologised for being late. Something whispered in the back of her head, an itch that she wasn't sure what to do with but she shook it away and tried to focus on the meeting. Now that she was here she needed to get her game face on. She wanted to prove that it wasn't a mistake to include her in the League, both to the Waynes and to Alya. 

It was a surprise when the meeting was interrupted by a loud bang, the doors bursting open.

“Sorry I'm late,” Superboy Senior said, strolling in and looking distinctly unapologetic. His eyes flickered to Superman before moving over to Marinette. Adrien held in a sigh when the half-Kryptonian flashed a smirk in her direction and moved to sit in the empty seat beside her. 

Marinette worked on not reacting to Superboy, the normal calm that came from being in her super suit offering her the much needed state of mind. He was openly eyeing her - and she would absolutely be analysing that later, in the privacy of her room and maybe with Adrien's input - but she didn't acknowledge him past a nod. 

As soon as the meeting ended, however, Superman came over and dragged Superboy away to have a conversation. Shortly after that, the younger Superboy dragged Damian over as well, to discuss what she had no idea. Adrien chose that moment to drape himself over her shoulders, a smirk on his face. 

“Is our little Multimouse eyeing up a hero? I thought you were all work in the suit,” he said. She narrowed her eyes at him and shrugged him off of her shoulders. Tim was standing nearby, his face passive except for the slight pinch when Adrien brought up attraction. 

“I'm just planning on introducing myself, Chat. You know, like a new member of the League? I'd like to get to know the other heroes our age,” Marinette said primly, oozing her usual confidence when in the suit. 

“Hoping to have something in common?” Adrien teased. She shot him a bored look, ignoring the flush that tried to make itself known. Maybe she shouldn't have played up her attraction to the guy quite as much as she had. Before she could retort he gasped like something had just occurred to him.

“Oh my God, Superboy senior's a clone right?” Adrien asked, turning to Tim excitedly. He didn't wait for an answer before continuing. “And Multi makes littler copies of herself! It's clone girl meets clone boy!” 

“Chaton, they're not clones, they all share the same consciousness,” Marinette said with another eye roll. The serious atmosphere from the meeting now completely dispelled, she stood up with the intention to introduce herself formally to both Superboys and Superman himself. 

As she approached the group the niggling feeling came back. Something about Superman was making her tense, though she wasn't sure what. She hadn't had any issues with either Superboy so what was it about the original boy in blue? She shoved the feeling down as she opened her mouth to greet them all. 

“Lovely to meet another of the Miraculous team,” Superman said with a cheerful smile. “I've been told that you're the strategist for the team, Multimouse. It's great to have you.” 

“...thank you,” she managed to choke out. Choke, because as soon as he spoke she worked out what was bothering her. He was familiar to her, and she needed to get out of this conversation. “I just wanted to introduce myself, and now that I have, I need to have a word with Robin.” 

She felt more than saw Alya watching her from the other side of the room and flashed a tentative smile in her team leader's direction. Damian managed to wait until they were further away from the trio before demanding to know what she wanted. When she didn't say anything - man was she overwhelmed - he snapped at her. 

“Multimouse, what is the problem right now? You are acting strangely. I understand that your team has an issue with Superman, but Batman has resolved the concerns regarding the investigation into the civilian Adrien Agreste-”

“Except that's Clark Kent, the idiot reporter that asked the messed up question to Adrien,” Marinette hissed, glancing furtively at Alya. “And now I have many more questions to ask and a few choice words for that-”

“You remember that there are several people with super hearing, right? For example, the Supers? I know you don't like him but unless you want to get into a verbal brawl with him right now, I suggest we leave this topic entirely.” 

“God, this is why Hood’s been insufferable, isn't it? When I get my hands on him-”

“Is everything okay over here?” Superboy Junior said, floating over to them with wide eyes. Evidently he'd been listening in to their conversation and now she was going to have to discuss something she very much didn't want to. 

“Everything is fine,” Damian clipped out, stepping towards his friend and shooting Marinette a look that said ‘I told you so’. “A discussion for another time, Multimouse, yes? Superboy, let us go and see if there are any snacks remaining. The meeting ran longer than I expected and I would like to eat before I return home.” 

Marinette grumbled to herself and made a mental note to talk to Tim when they were back in Gotham. 

[shatcey]

Clavis' route (really?)

You know… I'm so disappointed. This is the second time this month.

When I was a kid, I loved ALF… the show "ALF". I doubt many people remember it, it's really old. So… it was my favorite show, and I have a lot of good memories (in my case, only emotions, because I have a really… bad memory… no kidding). And for some idiotic reason, I decided to watch it now…

...

One episode. I could barely finish one episode.

He's terrible. This damn alien is terrible. Rude and insensitive. He doesn't give a shit that people can throw him out on the street, and they'll be absolutely right. He doesn't show any signs of gratitude at all. How could I grow up to be a normal person after that? How could I find it funny back then? Another childhood memory was ruined forever (at least for a while, as long as I remember it).

It's the same with Clavis' route. It hasn't been that long since I last read it. But now I know the princes better and I see so much nonsense in this route that I wanna cry.

Do you remember that wonderful joke?

It's really good, indeed.

But… Just think about it… she bribed Chevalier and… told Sari about it. Why??? What's wrong with this woman?

Do you remember what happened next?

Chev came and demanded a one-on-one conversation with Clavis, and this didn't arouse the slightest suspicion in Sari. He didn't connect the dots. He didn't notice an absolutely logical connection.

I really think Sari was sick on this route. He doesn't look like himself. Maybe he had a fever? Poor guy, and he has to work in this condition… Now all his stupidity is completely understandable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[angstycloud]

Ok, so there's something crazy that happened today late in the morning, around noon; while I was having breakfast, I was watching the star from Joyville, who is one of my favourite characters from the game that I watch on YouTube. While I was scrolling, I noticed something bizarre that almost caught my eye; I saw my artwork that I made a fanart ship of evil star x the star and posted on Tumblr. I didn't want to be the name. You can find it in the photo that I screenshot. When I opened the comment, there were only 2 comments from the same person who posted it: "Ewwww, no thanks" and "You know that they are the same person", which is true. How the star was friendly before he went insane and corrupted himself and himself into the evil star. I was thinking maybe I should ship the star with Monster Star and I did. I want to change the name Evil Star to Moon because it actually stuck in my head for like 3 months now. His past self was wearing a mask to cover his identity so that none of the other kids would know until everything went hell as the mascots went insane and went on a rampage. I did this because I like this ship, and I don't want to repeat the same mistake that I made on the ship of Alf x Abe, which almost got worse, and I regret deleting it from my account. I want to make an AU if the star did not wear a mask and his face would be much more alive and full of expression just to express himself, which is what I want to make an AU after the evil star goes back to life and change his name to moon, which this I want him to has his redemption arc by meeting up with his past self the star au which they become close friends and love each other and moon(the evil star) will accept himself who he is now rather than no pretending to be the past star who is full of joy and dancing is about having fun. I feel like I could do that in the future, but who knows? This is my opinion, but I am not here to make everyone who finds this offended and make a statement of mine just to make sure that you understand it. Thank you