hattersrabbit

[hattersrabbit]

[hattersrabbit]

batman at his core should represent love but i think some of u guys arent ready for that

[hattersrabbit]

‏We hope you can help us

build our lost home🏡

Aboud’s family is from Gaza. They lived a peaceful, simple life, filled with love, hope, and stability in their beautiful home. But the war left them with nothing but pain and loss. In one night, they lost their home, 🏡💣 their safe haven, and became homeless. Their only source of income disappeared, and their children were deprived of education and their most basic rights. The family was scattered in an attempt to survive and was displaced five times. ⛺️🇵🇸

Aboud's family consists of seven members. Aboud has Down syndrome and requires healthcare and treatment abroad, along with basic necessities for his family. 🥖

Today, the family lives in harsh conditions, struggling to secure their basic needs 😥. The children, who once dreamed of a bright future, now live in constant fear of the unknown. Despite all of this, the family has not lost hope, believing that goodness still exists in people's hearts. 💖🌹🍉

They desperately need your support to help Aboud receive treatment💊, rebuild his life, secure a safe 🏡 , and return their children to ‏school 🏫 . Every donation, no matter how small, can be a ray of hope that brightens their dark path. 🕊️❤️

Thanks to your generous hearts, Aboud’s family can restore hope and rebuild their lives. ‏🇵🇸🍉🌿🇵🇸

Thank you for your generosity and support. We are grateful for every contribution you make.🥹

Show your support for this campaign on GoFundMe

my campaing vetted by:

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[hattersrabbit]

LEARNING TO BE GENTLE

logan howlett x reader | nsfw

CW! gn reader, top logan, penetration, soft sex, lil hurt comfort, logan self loathing as usual, praise, drabble(?), fluffy ngl

˖꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷

Soft covers of silk moved smoothly against your skin and his. Rough and calloused hands against your back.

You're eyes wandered down his chest. Much softer hands than his. Decorating down his pecs, and the chest hair down there.

He made a noise to talk, but-

"Shh. Don't talk. You've done enough for a time." You sent a gentle smile. Hands curving to cup his face. Hair and facial hair flaring against your hands. Palms reeling in glee of how soft his hair was.

"[ ]..." Your name coming out like a warning.

You shushes him again. "You're always so rough. So reckless with yourself. Never allowing yourself to relax. For me, please, I can teach you how to be gentle." You pecked his lips. Hips grinding on his unzipped jeans.

"For yourself. We can go rough when you've learned to love yourself."

"You-"

"I said be quiet."

A low chuckle sent blood down to your nether regions. Ruffles of jeans being thrown off in the corner. The crinkling of bed sheets, and the loud hinges of the bed mattress.

"Shitty thing-ah fuck!" Logan threw his head back when feeling you take him. A moan released from your lips. His calloused hands that were too big gripped you tight.

"Too tight, Logan." You pouted through the pleasure. The man seemed to deflate. "It's alright. You'll get there." You leaned down against his chest.

His hands moved to your back. A low whine when you felt him some much deeper in you than before. "You don't break everything you touch, Logan."

"Don't hate yourself." You hugged his neck. Burying your face into his neck. Cautiously, which hurt your heart, wrapped his arms around you. "So, take me." You whispered into his ear.

"Kay' angel."

You gleamed bright as he thrusted into you. Whines and cute moans as you took you gentle and soft. Something he never thought he could be.

"See," you caressed his face again. Logan's eyes staring deeply with so much emotion. Hatred for himself, but there was deep-seated surprise for himself. He hadnt hurt you yet. "You can exist with me."

You moaned. Voice going high pitched when his cock hit a particular delicious spot. Back arching up, flexing your back, and his hands clung to it.

"No hurt. I'm not harmed, and you're wonderful, Logan."

The man said nothing. He only made an effort to hold you close. A sound of glee; a moan and yelp as he pulled you down. Rolling hips together in soft, gentle, and low movements. Up and down. Side to side. In circles.

Whatever.

You were here, and he was going to relish this. He could be gentle.

He was gentle.

[hattersrabbit]

My oil painting of an Uncrustable

[hattersrabbit]

TAKE CONTROL, COUNTRY BOY

corenswet! superman x reader | nsfw

CW! gn! reader, sub reader, soft dom clark, thigh riding, praise, strength kink, size kink, self indulgent post, drabble(?)

✎ᝰ. saw him on Friday and couldn't stop thinking about him

˖꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷

Resting your end on large thighs with a soft grin. A glint in you're eyes as you chased this need to get off on him.

"Clark please?" You pouted. Ever the gentleman he relented. He said nothing and only left his muscles to relax and you led his hands to your hips. Sweetly, he gripped firmly, and using his strength moved you.

A small noise was released from you're lips from the sudden pressure.

"Move with me." A soft whisper into your neck. One of his thighs pressed firmly against you, and moving up and down, and interchangeably side to side. You're moans weren't mistaken.

He was so much bigger than you. He made it clear in these moments. "Good job, dumpling." He kissed you're neck. Clinging to his white button up as he assaulted you with his thigh.

"You're so good. C'mon, move those hips for me."

You did so without complaint. "So beautiful like this." He silenced you're moans with his lips atop yours. Hands on you're hips and moving them along with your fruitless movements.

You felt so aroused. Like you could come any minute. Breath caught in a tizzy as Clark took away you're right to breathe. His very existence giving you more pleasure than you knew what to do with, and you loved it.

Tearing away. Clark could tell what what happened, and so he took complete control. His thigh going harder against your core. Moans louder than ever.

"Good job, baby." Praises sent feelings in your gut, and into your core.

Soft touches against his face. His hands still on you're hips, and working you still on his thigh. "More.." You pleaded for him with tears in your eyes.

His hand drifted beneath you're underwear. Doing whatever he wanted to you. "Can i?" Ever the gentleman. You nodded, and greeted into a world of newfound pleasure. Moving you against his thigh without a care.

"You want it?"

"Yes! Please, Clark! More!"

"How good you are, dumpling."

The pressure against your core was gone. A hand was messing you up, and it wasn't his thigh. A loud moan was voiced from you both as you two joined together.

You were in for a lot tonight. More than you asked, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

[hattersrabbit]

I’m sure this has been done before but it’s LITERALLY them 😭😭 lmao

[hattersrabbit]

The war has intensified and the siege has doubled, with the rate of food shortages increasing daily in Gaza. The price of a 50 kg bag of flour has become 500 euros. This is unreasonable. My little girl needs milk and Pampers, and this costs a lot. Everything is getting more difficult and the bombing doesn't stop. We need help

We still need you and your help. You are our hope and our last hope. Please don't leave us alone and help us. Donate to me and my family. Please donate your help. My family and I can get some food and we can survive and get out of Gaza and continue our lives normally. Please donate.

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #370 )✅️

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[hattersrabbit]

Guys do you think she’s excited

[hattersrabbit]

When there’s a post about Bruce being a good Dad someone will be in the comments lurking like

Oh what if it Bruce actually didn’t do this and it was Jason or Dick or literally anyone else doing this instead

Like, nooooo

Stop hijacking posts to parentify the other siblings. There a literally millions of posts like that, this one of for Bruce

Lookie, Batman made Robin a sandwich

Well actually is was Jason/Dick dressed up as Batman because Bruce said no-

Noooooo

Oh look, Bruce is bonding with Damian because that’s his kid!

Well actually it’s Dick because Bruce-

Noooooo

Look it’s Bruce and Tim and the writer decided not to use one of the many uwu Tim tropes and make him normal!

Well actually Jason basically adopted Tim-

Noooooo

I’m just so tired of it

[hattersrabbit]

Part three of “Love, Me Normally,” hot mamas?😍

It's in works i promise 😩 procrastination is my ultimate enemy

It's coming i promise 🙏 <3

[hattersrabbit]

"Dick had to take care of Bruce and teach him emotion"

"Tim had to mentally support Bruce when he became Robin"

Shut the fuck up, they did not. They did not have to do shit. Bruce learned from raising Dick and having Dick around, Dick did not have to take care of Bruce or shit. He learned from Dick behaving lile a kid and having to deal with that, not from Dick taking his hand and teaching him. Tim literally only had to be there for Bruce to be better, it is explained in A Lonely Place of Dying that Bruce needs a child to take care of, and that's what Tim is, a child Bruce can take care of. They weren't parentified to take care of Bruce instead of him taking care of their emotional and mental wellbeing. HE TOOK CARE OF THEIR EMOTIONAL AND MENTAL WELLBEING. Damn, with Tim, he does it when his parents don't. With Dick, it's the whole point how Bruce took him to take care of his emotional and mental wellbeing because nobody did for Bruce, and Bruce succeeded.

Stop infantilizing autistic adults. Bruce being autistic and having difficulties with communication, emotions and relationships because of it doesn't mean his kids were the one taking care of him. It means his kids had to learn how it is to interact with an autistic or neurodivergent person.

Bruce being well only when he has a kid to take care of is what is difficult for the kids, because it makes the process of becoming an adult more difficult when your dad needs a kid.

I challenge y'all to be able to talk about Bruce being mentally ill without painting it as a burden to his family, because that's the only way you ever do it.

[hattersrabbit]

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞・tim drake (featuring ceo!tim drake and secretary!reader)

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ wherein you’re tim’s work wife, but he wants you be something more. a wayne gala gives him the best opportunity to swoop in and finally turn it real.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: attempt at sexual assault, lots of pining (from tim’s end)

note: guys you don’t know how happy i am to have this trope be featured in my first tim fic ever because. well. i am a SUCKER for this trope and i hope i did it justice. and like, who isn’t in love with the idea of ceo!tim??? who isn’t even canon???? (sobbing) anyways please enjoy!

You’re Tim’s work wife.

Everyone knows it. That’s what everyone calls you in the office. Suddenly, Tim is no longer that one guy that exemplifies nepotism, now, he’s just known as your work husband. 

He doesn’t notice at first, the way your relationship deepened to something like that. He remembers the day of your first day—12th April, and you had walked into the office at eight-forty three A.M. for a nine A.M. start—but he doesn’t remember. Tim’s naturally observant, so he knows what you were wearing, down to the height of your heels in inches, but he doesn’t really remember any of your interactions. You were just…nondescript. You just happened to apply, and Tam approved. So you came in.

Then, the two of you’d end up pulling in at the same time. Tim would park his car, lock it, and then turn around to see you waiting patiently at the elevator, pressing the open button.

Things just evolved from there. Tim would bypass his usual drive-by coffee order, because you’d have a red eye ready for him, piping hot and perfect to his taste. Tim would fall into the habit of sitting on your desk first thing instead of his, and the two of you would chat before work actually began.

You were, in every sense possible, his work wife. Except for maybe the point in which Tim is supposed to just have platonic…feelings.

Tim’s even googled it. Wikipedia defines it as a “special, platonic friendship with a work colleague characterised by a close emotional bond, high levels of disclosure and support, mutual trust, honesty, loyalty and respect”. 

Tim respects you. He’s pretty sure that if anything were to happen to you, he’d hunt the fucker down and then commit murder suicide because he can’t function without you.

He physically deflates when you’re not in the office. Tam’s even mocked Tim about it, mirroring his slouched shoulders like she’s some bully from high school, only to laugh when Tim flips her his middle finger. 

Not to mention, when you found out he was Red Robin because he had broken into your apartment—and he had only broken in because he knew you had purchased a well-stocked med-kit from tracking your financial records like a freak, as Jason would say—you had just shrieked, spent a minute clutching at your chest, before going to find the first aid kit for him. You’re literally perfect. There’s no one other than you. 

Not that you know that. Tim’s been suffering through your recounts of recent blind dates that your friends and family have been setting you up with, and every time, Tim suddenly turns into not-Tim and all his snark disappears and all he can say is ‘oh no way’ and ‘dang’ and ‘that sounds awful’. 

What happened to Red Robin Tim? What happened to Robin Tim?

Well. Robin Tim is right here, at this Wayne gala, and he’s about to fucking tear this guy’s throat out of he keeps looking at you like that.

“Tim,” Bruce says airily, as if he doesn’t notice Tim glaring daggers into the back of one of his business partners, “Come here, come meet Marcus. Marcus, this is one of my sons, Tim, who is one of the rare ones who has some interest in the family business.”

Tim forces a laugh with the other two men, shooting a look at Bruce to say I know what you’re doing. Bruce replies with a wink that seems like he’s just being playful, but instead says, Stop thinking of ways to dispose of Keith Briggs.

Tim makes sure he conveys I have twenty-seven methods already very clearly. Bruce’s smile turns strained.

“Oh, Timothy!” Marcus Ho of Starview Industries reaches over and shakes Tim’s hand firmly, brightening. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Tim says, going for a smile. “For what it’s worth, I believe what you’re doing with that new Dove Initiative is extremely admirable.” In the corner of his eye, he sees Keith Briggs reach you, a hand ghosting around your waist, and it makes Tim’s muscles tense. 

You dodge out of the way, manoeuvring out of the way smoothly, and you give a defusing laugh when Briggs frowns at the evasion. You’ve got Tam by your side, thank God, and you’ve also got Cass, who eyes the new arrival warily. 

You’ll be fine. You’re not alone.

“Tim,” Bruce says, very pointedly, because it’s probably obvious that Tim’s not paying attention, “I was just thinking that the dove initiative is quite similar to the new Martha Wayne Foundation project you were thinking of developing. Perhaps Marcus could give you some pointers.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Marcus shakes his head, taking a step back, “I’m still quite new at all this—being the director, and all, I mean, I think Timothy here has even more experience than I do, and he’s at least ten years younger than me!”

“Well, experience doesn’t necessarily equate to wisdom,” Tim points out absent-mindedly, because that was something you once said to him. “If—I’m so sorry, but please excuse me, there’s just something—”

Marcus frowns, seeing how agitated Tim is. “Is there something wrong? Is there something I could do to help?”

“Uh—” Tim meets Brucie Wayne’s glazed glare with an anxiety of his own. “—it’s nothing, it’s just—my wife—yeah, my wife, she’s calling me over.”

Marcus blinks. “Your…wife?”

“Your wife,” Bruce repeats, and Tim knows he’s fucked up. It’s the least of his worries right now, though.

“Yeah—uhm, look, I’ll be right, back, just going to check up on her. Marcus, I’d love to hear all about the Dove Initiative; rebuilding affordable homes in affordable suburbs—amazing work, sir.”

“No, no,” Marcus waves, “Please, go, go, family is very important. God knows that if my wife were here I probably would check up on her every ten minutes.”

As if psychically tuned to Tim’s rising stress, you turn, and your eyes meet. You blink, probably not expecting him to be looking at you, but you give him a tentative wave when you make eye-contact.

Fucking angel. You’ve just given him everything you need.

“I’ll be right back,” Tim promises, beelining for you. Bruce would probably sigh, if he were actually Bruce, but instead, he just makes a random joke that Tim is out of earshot to hear, but the ringing laughter of Brucie Wayne and Marcus trail behind him.

Tim’s focus is elsewhere. Briggs is making another move, this time to touch your ass, and even though Cass is closer, she stays still as Tim slides into place, effectively stopping what would’ve been a serious case of sexual harassment.

Briggs stumbles back as Tim threads his arm around your waist, slotting himself between you and him. Your eyebrows raise at the contact, but you don’t pull away, and things only get better when your frown intensifies in that way when you see something dissatisfactory.

“Hold this,” you command, and Tim blinks as he holds your champagne. With deft fingers, you tug at his bow tie, aligning it properly, before giving him a little pat. “That’s much better. Okay, now give it back.”

Tim obediently gives you your champagne back. Briggs recovers, eyes darting back and forth between the two of you, eyes wide. “Hold on,” he says loudly and dumbly, “I didn’t know that you and—and Wayne were a thing—”

“Oh they’re husband and wife,” Tam pipes, smiling innocently. Tim needs to give her a raise.

“Love each other,” Cass agrees, and Tim hopes you don’t read too much into that one. It would be one terribly indirect way to confess.

Briggs eyes widen so much Tim’s starting to get concerned them popping out. “But—you’re not wearing a ring!”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do all couples need to wear a ring to signify that they’re in a committed relationship?”

Tim turns his head away into your neck to hide a smile. It doesn’t really do much except fill Tim’s nose with your intoxicating scent, and he has to pivot to get a breath of fresh air before he loses it. Tam meets his eye behind your shoulder, and she wriggles her eyebrows knowingly.

Fuck you, Tim mouthes, but only after he’s made sure no one is looking or filming. He gives himself about two more minutes before someone gets the smart idea of catching Timothy Drake-Wayne hugging a woman by the waist. And not just any woman either, his executive assistant—his secretary.

Scandalous. Honestly, though, Bruce and Wayne Enterprises’ PR department might be the only ones who’ll care about the fallout. 

“You could’ve said something about being the wife of the CEO of Wayne Enterprises,” Briggs hisses. He takes a massive step back when Tim snaps around to level him with the trademarked Drake Stare of Condescension, and Tim makes sure to add some Red Robin fire behind it so he doesn’t get any smart ideas. 

Briggs clears his throat, changing his tone. “I mean, I wouldn’t want this misunderstanding to have blown out of proportion.”

“What misunderstanding?” you ask, and then, very deliberately, you reach out to fix Tim’s collar. Tim swears his ears must be burning, but he manages a smile when your eyes meet.

“I—” Briggs cuts himself when Tim turns to stare at him again, and he takes another step back. “No, no, there’s no misunderstanding here—uhm, have a good rest of your night, Mrs. Wayne, Mr. Wayne.”

“It’s Drake-Wayne,” you snap after him, irritation furrowing your brows. 

Briggs runs away too fast to hear, but Tim finds it hilarious, and he lets out a laugh as you turn back to look at him. “What?” you ask, dropping your hand, and sipping from your champagne flute.

“Nothing,” Tim shrugs, pulling you a little closer, “just you and your weird priorities.”

“What weird priorities?”

Tim steals your flute to take his own sip. “Just that you didn’t get mad when he was trying to feel you up, but you did when he said the wrong name.”

“i see no problem with my priorities,” you correct, “because it’s my job to ensure the correct information about you is spreading around.”

“Information like you and I are married?”

You freeze. Technically, the two of you have just gone through a situation where both of you had insinuated that you had done your vows and said your ‘I do’s. “Aren’t you?” Cass asks, innocently curious.

“Cass!” you protest, whirling around to her, your champagne forgotten in Tim’s hand, “No no, we’re work spouses, remember? That’s—that’s totally different—it’s platonic and everything—”

“Did you google that?” Tam asks, grinning from behind her own glass. “Wikipedia, perhaps?”

“Why do you know that?” you demand, flustered.

“Well, because Tim asked me the other day if—”

“That’s enough,” Tim cuts in, because he’s also panicking, “is there no one you should be networking with, Tam? Cass, I think Bruce wants to chat with you.”

Both of them make disgusted faces at the suggestions. But a tacit understanding passes through them and they turn to one another, giggle, before hurrying away. Neither go to do what Tim’s told them to do, instead heading for food, but at least they’ve left the two of you alone.

The problem is, then, they’ve left the two of you alone. With no one else here, Tim’s hold on your waist is suddenly very noticeable, and he very carefully detaches himself from you. When he does, a chill settles in from where you had been pressed against him, and Tim swallows down a complain. 

“Thanks,” you murmur, glancing down, and smoothing down your silk dress, “knew you’d come.”

Tim can’t help but preen underneath your faith. “Well,” he says, like an idiot, “I am an imbecile who trapezes around nighttime doing things like this.”

You don’t seem to find him quoting you very funny though. “Yeah, that’s right,” you say, glancing to your side, “that’s true. You do this kind of thing all the time.” You stare off, aimlessly. 

Tim’s said something wrong. He needs to fix this. “No, wait, that’s not what I meant. I—I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“Like he was a sexual predator?” you ask, dryly. You reach for your champagne, but Tim doesn’t give it back just yet. He holds onto it, probably with enough strength to crack the glass, and he steels himself to say the right thing.

“Yes, but also because it was you.” Tim ignores the thumping in his throat, swallowing past it. “I don’t—I honestly might’ve resorted to violence if Bruce didn’t let me go and he had actually touched you.”

Confusion clouds your face. “Tim, you’ve got morals, big deal—”

“I’m saying that I’m in love with you,” Tim blurts out, “and that it’s completely okay if you’re not, because we’re just work spouses, but I’ve probably fantasised way too many times of being actual spouses that it should probably be illegal and you should probably know. So. Yeah.”

“Tim,” you start, but he can see the expression on your face, and he needs to retreat, right now.

“Here,” he says, shoving the champagne back at you, hoping that it’ll distract you, “uhm, if you want me to quit or something, just let me know by Monday so I can get Bruce to come in instead—yeah—”

“Tim.” 

He shuts up. 

Your face transforms into something absolutely stunning, and it takes a while for Tim to realise that it’s a blinding smile. “Shouldn’t the secretary quit in a situation like this?” You laugh, and you reach for his arm. “Not the CEO?”

Tim feels your touch through his sleeve. “I’d never make you quit,” he says, with absolutely no filter because his brain isn’t working right now, “unless you hate your job. And then I’d force you to quit so you can find something that you like. But I don’t think you hate being an executive assistant. Shit. Do you hate being an executive assistant?”

“I don’t love it,” you admit, and Tim’s stomach drops, “but I do love my job. It’s because I love working with you.”

Tim blinks. “Uhm.”

“And I love working with you,” you continue, stepping closer, hand drifting up from his sleeve to rest on his shoulder, “because, funnily enough, I am also in love with you, Timothy Drake-Wayne.”

“Oh,” Tim breathes, “you are? Because that would be great.”

Your other arm slips around his other shoulder, and suddenly, you’re right in front of him. Your front is pressed against his, and Tim’s arms automatically wind around your waist to keep you locked in this embrace.

You smile up at him, sweet and enticing. “This is the perfect moment to kiss me now, Tim,” you whisper.

“Yeah,” Tim nods, neurons not firing at all, “yeah, okay, I’m gonna kiss you now.”

You throw your head back to laugh, but Tim has his lips against yours before you can make fun of him. You meld into his instantly, pulling him closer with your hands behind his head. Just in case, Tim reaches up to grab a hold of your champagne glass so it doesn’t spill, and you let him, instead going to play with the hair behind his neck instead.

Dick might’ve whooped from the other side of the ballroom, but Tim’s not paying attention to anyone but you. And the way you taste so sweet, right there, right against him, because you’re his now and—

You break away. Tim’s is horrified when a whine rips out of his throat.

This time you get to laugh, leaning back when Tim attempts to chase your lips. “No, Tim,” you scold, like he’s a misbehaving dog, “we are not making out at your father’s gala.”

“But I wanna,” Tim complains, placing your flute on a nearby table so he can get a better purchase on your hips. “I wanna show you just how much I love you, how much I’ve held back from going at you at the office like a horny teenager.”

“Tim! We’re in public!” You laugh, and before he can whine again (horrifying, why is he doing this?) you press a kiss to his lips to shut him up.

The reaction is automatic. Tim is putty in your hands, because you have him wrapped around your little finger.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Tim,” you say gently against his lips, “I love you, dear work husband.”

Tim sighs contently, brushing his nose against yours. “Love you more, dearest work wife.”

Hey. At least any tabloids out there who are rushing to get photos of the two of you onto their front pages won’t be able to say anything like illegitimate relationship because now, it’s legitimate.

Now, Tim’s just gonna have to plan out the next couple of months and gauge how soon is considered too soon for him to propose.

general masterlist・come chat to me here!

[hattersrabbit]

Fem Duke Thomas! Plus mini kind of hood kids fanart cuz i love the idea of jason braiding duke’s hair

[hattersrabbit]

[2024/09/25]

[hattersrabbit]

⋆｡°✩𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓✩°｡⋆

(summerween is officially tomorrow guys!!)

[hattersrabbit]

HALLOWEEN KILLS david gordon green, 2021