#AND HE JUST STARTED CUDDLING ME

[originalartblog]

Good morning~

[batfamhyperfixation]

On Tim's Boat

*Tim and Bernard are laying in bed sleeping, limbs entangled as Bernard sleeps on Tim's chest*

*at 3:47am Bernard is awoken*

Bernard, swatting Tim as he is squinting in the dark: Hey grasshopper? Is that a sleep paralysis demon-

Tim, shifting slightly, eyes still shut, basically sleepy mumbling: you wouldn't be hitting me, you'd be paralyzed

Bernard: then I think someone is stealing clothes from our closet

Tim, running his hand through Bernard's hair so Bernard knows he is listening: don't know why, we are the pits of fashion, they should be stealing from Sophie and Louie's closet, or even Tammy and Lauren's closet

Bernard: is that... Robin?

Tim, wide awake now, swiveling his head towards the closet: WHAT?

Damian, standing there in a Robin outfit looking through their clothes in the closet, gathering a pile on his arm: Your father wants you to call him, Drake

Bernard: Robin works for Bruce? Actually, that's not surprising.

Robin, walking out with a pile of clothes on his arm: I am confiscating these *walks out the door*

Bernard:

Tim:

Bernard:

Tim:

Bernard: Guess you could say he was... Robin us.

Tim: You're lucky I love you

Edit: Part 2

[benetnvsch]

I am literally the most influenceable guy ever literally saw three people talking abt knkdz tonight and I got pulled out of my art block so fast

[thetarttfuldickhead]

The call connects and there’s Roy, seemingly back at his own house, seated on a grey couch and wearing a scowl dark enough to match his t-shirt and jacket.

Trent smiles, though carefully not too wide. “Hello Roy. Thank you for agreeing to this.”

Roy grunts. “Better you than any of the other wankers,” he mutters.

Trent makes an effort to hide his grin. Visibly gloating about having the sort of access to Roy Kent that other journalists – independent or disgraced or otherwise – can only dream of isn’t likely to get him the exclusive comments that he needs from Richmond’s head coach on today’s kerfuffle.

“So,” he offers smoothly, “what do you—“

He’s cut off by the loud bang of a door slamming shut on the other end and a startled fuck from Roy and then there’s Jamie Tartt’s head coming into view as it flops down on Roy’s lap. He must have thrown himself down onto the couch.

“It’s all such fucking bullshit, man,” Jamie pronounces dramatically as he – Trent’s eyebrows rise another inch – grabs Roy’s arm and pulls it over his chest, claiming half a cuddle. “Did you know—“

“I’m in the middle of an interview, you twat,” Roy barks, but he does not, Trent notes with increasing interest and incredulity, remove his arm.

“Since when do— ?” Lifting his head from Roy’s lap, Jamie blinks at the screen. “Oh! Uh. Hi, Trent! How you doin’, you good?” His grin is wide, easy, with no hint of embarrassment, and Trent finds himself smiling back. Jamie has always been charismatic, but the last few years have seen his swagger turn into a good-natured charm that’s surprisingly hard to resist.

“I’m fine, thank you, Jamie. And regarding the news this afternoon, how do you—“

“No,” Roy immediately says, shifting to push Jamie off his lap in spite of the younger man’s indignant protests. “He has no fucking comment. He’s not part of this conversation. He’s not even fucking here.”

“The fuck are you on about, mate, he can see I’m— “

“Go to the kitchen,” Roy interrupts. “Get me a whisky. If I have to listen to you complain about wankers on Twitter or split fingernails or whatever, I need a fucking drink.”

“You’re an arsehole,” Jamie tells him from out of the picture, but he doesn’t sound particularly upset. “I haven’t even got any split fingernails.” And then he must be off because he doesn’t say anything else and Roy turns back to Trent, glaring like he’s daring Trent to say it.

Trent, with equal parts cunning and self-preservation, says nothing at all. Waits.

Eventually, Roy’s shoulders drop a millimeter. He lets out a huff. “Jamie’s fucking needy, all right? He needs fucking hugs and shit and he turns into a moody bitch prima donna if he doesn’t get them, so.” He presses his lips together, having apparently said all he intends to say on the subject.

Trent had noticed Jamie’s fondness for hanging off anyone's and everyone’s shoulder during his season with the team. He hadn’t known and would never have imagined, though, that Roy would ever be willing to indulge the tendency, especially not to this degree. And that rather begs the question...

“Roy,” he says carefully. “You know that, if the two of you are—“

“We’re not.” And Roy closes his eyes, shakes his head. Opens them, looking resigned, but looking a little bit wry too. “Be less fucking weird if we were, wouldn’t it? But we’re not. It’s just… “ He pauses. Shakes his head again. “It’s Jamie. Just… fucking Jamie.”

“Except you are not,” Trent says, just to be clear, just because being a bit of an asshole is a habit, and fun.

“Except I’m not,” Roy growls, and looks like he’s about to add something more – something scatching and imaginatively insulting, Trent assumes – but then he lifts his head, turning towards someone offscreen. “What— ? Yeah, we’re fucking done. Bye, Crimm,” he adds, and then the screen goes dark as Roy abruptly ends the call.

“Bye, Roy,” Trent tells the silence. “I’ll just text you the questions, shall I? You can get back to me when you’re done giving Jamie Tartt a cuddle.”

[breadandblankets]

Doug and Elaine Thomas met in a coffee shop at Gotham U, they struck up a conversation in line talking about everything from the weather to certain wildly unpopular school policy changes, they end up talking even after they get their orders (peppermint tea and a chocolate croissant for Elaine, cinnamon latte for Doug)

Doug secures his second date when he finds out Elaine has seen approximately Zero (0) movies and takes it up on himself to show her the world

[theweirderofthetwo]

Some relaxed kiddos in australia

[frostedpuffs]

IM STILL THINKING ABOUT THE KITTEN

[tsuchinokoroyale]

For all the shocking things that happened in saltburn the one thing that really left my jaw on the floor was that they used the goddamn Cheeky Girls Christmas song for the Christmas scene

[fbwzoo]

These two have come so far in the past year with their ability to share mom cuddles - well, mostly Emma's ability. Thankfully she has had an easier time warming up to Phoebe than Shilo, but it still took time before she was okay with Phoebe climbing on me for cuddles when Emma was already attached to me.

Not only did they share me for 5-10 minutes, at one point, Emma even nuzzled Phoebe & licked her forehead & ears. 🥹

[copiasblair]

i am a normal well-adjusted adult who brings a plushie of their fictional husband everywhere to cope with their anxiety

[neondiamond]

.

[katandsquad]

.

[ickypuppi3]

heather and billy being super close best friends means so much to me because he’s so starved of platonic affection i just think he would thrive so much being around someone who doesn’t want anything from him in return and genuinely loves and sees him for who he is

[the-crow-binary]

Do you think Death took on different appearances just to please Mathias? Heck, maybe appearance of an certain knight?

Short answer: Yes.

I mean Death definitely took a liking to Mathias at some point (since he will later insist on bringing him back to life because he misses his immortal "friend" too much :( ). So it's to be expected that he'd do something nice for him once in a while, out of his own free will. :) (not that he needs to change to charm Mathias, but I guess turning into a fair haired pretty boy helps a bit. <3)

Now I wonder... Can Death take the appearance of anyone, existing or not, like a succubus/incubus can? Or maybe... He can only take the appareance of dead people. In that case, you can guess the implication of him turning into Leon, one night. :)

[vilelittlecritter]

Me: "I don't like people, I prefer being on my own and not talking"

People: "oh okay we'll leave you be then"

Me: "wait no PLEASE COME BACK I WANT LOVE-"

[softquietsteadylove]

I know you've already written several of these, but I wanted to ask if you could write a nightmare scene. A scene in which Thena has a violent nightmare and lashes out wildly in her sleep. Gilgamesh tries to calm her down or wake her up without hurting himself or her.

Gil's eyes split open in the dark of his room. His fire was down to small embers, but it wasn't the chill that had woken him. It was faint, but it was a vibration that alerted him to something happening in the room next to his.

He looked up, waiting for another sign of anything. It took a few minutes, but he heard another thump of something. He pushed his covers back and prepared to make the chilly walk to the room next door.

Thena had always had nightmares, and the cold really wasn't helping.

Gil padded to her door, knocking gently before entering. He waited, but the fact that he hadn't woken her was a sign that she was quite deep in sleep, and whatever visions were plaguing her. "Thena?"

The room was a disaster. Blankets and sheets and furs slashed to pieces as if a battle had taken place. It would be easy to assume that an assailant had tried to sneak into the Warrior Eternal's chambers. But it was just her, tangled in what remained of her bedding.

"Oh, Thena," Gil sighed as he closed her door behind her. She was both sweating and trembling, which didn't surprise him, considering how cold she was here all the time.

The battle today had been long, and draining in a plethora of ways. Thena had just barely dragged herself back to the palace, leaning on him all through dinner.

"No," she panted, seeming feverish as her body spasmed in the bed, "please!"

"Thena, I'm here," Gil whispered, approaching the bed carefully. He jumped back just in time to avoid one of her blades.

She was made for war, and sleep wasn't strong enough to keep her from it.

"Please don't!" she whimpered, hands held aloft, sometimes still and sometimes twitching and clawing. Then they were fabricating a blade and lashing out. "No!"

"Thena," he raised his voice faintly, hoping to wake her gently. He didn't want to get hurt, but more importantly, he didn't want her to hurt herself in the process. He inhaled, pulling some energy into his palms, "wake up."

"Gil," she whispered, and sounded distressed when she did. "Gil, please help."

"I'm right here, Solnyshkuh," he attempted to soothe her. He didn't know what was happening in her mind, but he must have been taken from her by force. It was the only way he was ever parting with her.

"Gil," she mumbled out miserably, hands back to clawing at the air.

He swept forward, pressing his palms to hers. His energy met hers, the two fizzling and sparking against each other. He wove their fingers together, letting out a breath as her Cosmic Energy and its deadliness receded. Her hands softened, her fingers sliding against his to cling to him.

She stilled.

"Thena?" he whispered, still holding her hands together with his. He leaned down, nudging her head with his, "hey."

"Hm," she blinked as her eyes finally cracked open. They were hazy and unfocused--nothing like the Warrior Eternal. "Gil?"

"Hey," he cooed, pressing his lips to her forehead as he helped her sit up using his hands for leverage. He moved with her, only leaning as far away as strictly necessary. His head hovered close to hers, "you okay?"

"Wh-" Thena looked away from him around the rest of the room. Her fire was still reasonably stoked, and now with a few scraps of material in it. She looked around at the damage she had done. "Did I...?"

"Nightmare," he whispered, running his thumb along the bony ridge of her hand. "You remember?"

She shook her head.

"Okay." It didn't matter. All that mattered was that she was awake now, and he could comfort her properly. He pulled her closer until she could settle in his lap, like she would when they went to the bath house together. "Never mind that."

Thena inhaled with her face pressed against his neck, nuzzling in to bury her nose in the collar of his sleeping robes.

She was shaking. Gil tightened his hold on her, pressing his much warmer cheek to hers, "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

Thena said nothing, burrowing against him for comfort against an unknown, unseen enemy. Her fist closed around a handful of his robes, holding onto him with desperation.

"Come on," Gil said equally soft and decisive in tone, standing and hefting her - not that there was much to heft - into his arms.

"Where?" she sighed, although it couldn't be said that she protested at all as her arms looped around his neck.

"My bed," he clarified, as if it needed saying. He walked back to his room, leaving them to decide what to do about her bed chambers later. "It's nice and warm."

"And in one piece?"

"I was gonna say comfy," he chuckled, and felt her smile against his cheek as a reward. He leaned his head against her, "you need to rest."

Thena let him close his door and set her on the bed. She immediately snuggled into the spot where he had previously been lying, taking up half the space while on her side.

Gil chuckled, coming back to her after tossing a few more logs onto the fire. He slipped back into the bed, letting her take the warmest spot for herself. He was warm enough. He wrapped his arms around her, always happy to enjoy how cuddly she was when she was cold. "Better?"

"Hm," she purred, burying her face against his chest as she made herself comfortable.

"I keep telling you to come to bed with me," he reminded her as he listened to the sweet music of her dozing off.

"I'm trying to sleep, Gilgamesh."

"Okay, later," he promised, kissing the top of her head (since her face was pressed into his chest at the moment). "I'm just saying-"

"Shush."

"Yes, dear."