#Here's Brucey

[briry18]

Chapter 3 Overblot: Deleted Scene

~One of my earliest videos, the audio made me think of Floyd immediately. He would totally say "Esssscapay!"

[nicky-jr]

im scared

[itsbrucey]

eem . hi . anxiously breaking into your ask box to say have you listened to the dndads live show that they released on tuesday bcs oh my god there is closeson in there ,,,, there is *so* much closeson in there brucey and I'm going insane and I know that you also like them . so um . yeah . that's all 👍

I have not yet,, do you promise.,..,... ,,,. Is there Closeson....

Don't get my hopes up dude I miss them so bad. So so so bad. If there's Closeson I will vomit...../pos

[nouearth]

my favorite scent is you.

bruce wayne x male reader.

summary: bruce needs to be taken care of too (in which reader believes it's through the form of sex).

wc: 3.5k. genre: smut, angst (kinda?). warnings: top!bruce, consensual!somnophilia, blowjobs, slow mouth-fucking, fondling, reader is asleep, bruce and reader are the same age, reader also grew up with bruce, mentions of parental death, trauma-bonding.

notes: it's been a while since i've done a brucey smut (and also fulfilled a request), so here ya go! actually my first time writing about somnophilia, so be easy on me, lmao. it was harder than i thought! also i'm trying a new layout,,, kinda, don't mind me.

“Do you remember that night? When my parents… you know.”

It had been a little less than a decade, but the uneasiness you felt when mentioning your parents’ death was akin to hovering your palm above an open flame. The flicker of the heat frightened you. Though, you couldn’t help but feel magnetic towards it—closer and closer—until you felt a strike to your calloused hand.

Just a little more, and you’ll break free.

It was striking how your wounds maintained their novelty. Years of skin hardening, scabbing and layering over the memory of Bruce breaking the news to you on that night, and the slightest mention of your parents tore it open with little defiance.

“Yeah…” Bruce whispered, and a sudden impulse to hold you prevailed over him. He turned over on his side, slipping his arms over and under your frame, and pulled your back flushed to his chest. You eased with a melting squirm, a physical gratitude, and then another when you pressed a kiss to his forearm. “It was supposed to be Alfred telling you, but I insisted.”

“Really?” Your curiosity was piqued and you felt Bruce nod into the crown of your head, breathing you in deep like his favourite cologne. A scent he’d never wear himself because it matched you perfectly. “How come?”

“Well, I had no one other than Alfred when my parents died. He tried his best, but we barely had time to grieve. A bunch of responsibilities were bestowed upon him overnight; my parents’ estate, numerous paperworks, the press and media, not to mention the funeral service. It was… a lot for him.”

Bruce sighed, squeezing you tighter for support as he continued. “I remember reading—signing off things that I knew nothing about the very next day.” He then laughed, a bitterness surfing for air in the bass of his voice. “I didn’t even have a signature yet.”

“I’m sorry…” A heaviness sank you and Bruce deeper into the mattress. You latched onto Bruce’s arm for support, held him gently, and found levity through the brush of his lips, as if he was saying—consoling you through the black void: I’m here, I’m here. 

“Is that why you guys hired my parents?”

“Mm-hm, we needed help around the manor while Alfred had bigger duties to tend to. And I’m glad he suggested the idea as much as I was apprehensive about it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have met such an incredible family. A year became two, then another two, then another, and…” Bruce recalled the sounds, the visions of red and blue flashing—blaring into the sky.  “Which was why I thought it would be best if it came from me. So I could be that someone that I desperately needed during my grieving.”

“You shouldn’t have been thinking about that though… I mean, what—we were only fifteen? Coming from your background, you should’ve been… cocky, annoying, emo, selfish, like every other teenager.

“I guess your personality kind of compensated for that—” He amused himself with some levity.

“Hey!” You choked out a laugh, then lightly elbowed his stomach behind you. “Ass.”

“Ow,” Bruce pressed a smile to the back of your head, inhaling your scent again. “I did have that emo phase though.”

“Oh yeah—” Within his hold, you turned your body to meet Bruce face-to-face as a flood of memories came rushing in. You greeted him with a smile that he was able to single out from within the dark. Then, he made sure your presence was acknowledged with a chaste kiss. 

“Your hair came down to your nose and stuff—oh! And you kept wearing the same hoodie too.” 

“Yeah, okay—we get it. Not my best look.” He groaned, tearing himself away from you as your descriptions of Bruce suddenly developed into powerfully cringe-inducing memories. As embarrassing as the past was, he was glad it brought you some kind of merriment. He’d been scolded multiple times by numerous people, though namely Alfred, to treat you better.

You and Bruce weren’t always close. In all honesty, it took your parents’ death that empowered you two to stick together more than ever. Where darkness used to storm over the roof of the manor, you and Bruce managed to conjure a light that illuminated a path to find sanctuary within each other.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me.” The moonlight reflecting through the bedroom window casted shadows across Bruce’s profile. Wrinkles you’ve never noticed before were accentuated; eye-bags that you’ve been nagging at him to take care of deepened; glimpses of a boy who was forced to grow up. 

He turned when you reached over to trace over the spotlighted features. A single digit caressed the bumpy bridge of his nose; the stubble that tickled you whenever you kissed; the cut over his broad chin that was your favorite spot to kiss,; the scar over his left cheek that had been healing for months, only to restart the process again after Bruce’s late night endeavors.

“Let me take care of you now.”

You weren’t sure how Bruce took your proposal. Recalling the moment had you adding unnecessary details that all-the-more exploded the situation into a narrative you couldn’t exactly trust.

Wait… he made a weird face when I told him. I remember a face! No, idiot—he just had an itch on his cheek. Oh.

I don’t remember his phone ringing… You think he was trying to get out of the conversation? Maybe? He usually has his phone set on the loudest volume possible…

Oh god, he probably thinks I’m some kind of sex-crazed addict. Well, aren’t you— No?! I just—wanted to take care of him… We rarely see each other these days and I doubt the lunches I’d make for him add much to that narrative. I needed something more. Wow, I’ve been talking to myself for this long?

You probably look crazed, especially if someone were to walk in the bedroom at this moment, but you’d be too deep into your thoughts to hardly notice. If you did notice, you’d probably go on a tangent about how Bruce was probably disgusted by how you could even suggest a thing like that.

Your toes and fingers curled at the recollection you were certain happened.

“So… I know you’ve been out late at night—” “(M/N), it’s not what you—” “Shh, I’m too good of a catch for you to cheat on me.” “I mean, keep that cockiness up and maybe—” “Excuse me?!” “I’m joking.” “Uh-huh, well, keep joking and I might have to rescind my offer.” “Your offer?” “Look, I haven’t seen you much lately. It’s not your fault. You’re busy.” “I know—I just need to deal with this…” “Bruce, you look—you are tired. You’re overworked and whenever we do spend time together, you’re asleep!” “I’m trying my b—” “You’re trying your best, I know! And I don’t know what you do at night, not sure if I do want to know, but… two-three hours of sleep is not enough. You’re killing your body.” “Hm…” “And one day, you’re going to crack and I just…” “Just..?” “I’m not sure how to… put it.” “What is it?” “If you want to… and it’s entirely up to you, but…” “Jesus, spit it out—” “I— if I’m still asleep, and you want to somehow… relieve your stress..?” “Oh—” “I’m all yours.”

The second hand on the clock cycled slower, almost as if it was mocking you for being so desperate, impatient, and doubting. Yet, at the same time—if clocks could have a personality—there was a dormant kindness in the rhythm of the minute hand striking every corner of the wheel. Gentle and soothing, the lids of your eyes grew heavier with every passing second as the sound of the clock counted sheeps for you.

Forty, forty-one… fourty-two… Forty… three…

The floor creaked despite Bruce’s best efforts to remain light on his feet. You’ve always been a light sleeper, even at the sound of wind whistling you’d jolt up to, but surprisingly—nothing. 

As he approached his side of the bed, his eyes settled on you like always. To Bruce, it was a sweet sigh of relief to come back home to you again. Sometimes, a miracle depending on the crimes of that night. Nightly patrols have taken a toll on him; on his body, on his mentality; but being in your presence always—no matter what—brought him back to the solitude his life was at before being laboured by vengeance.

Coldly, he sat on the edge, careful to not wake you, as he dried off the damp strands of his washed hair with a towel. Then, he chased after the tremors off his bare body with several rubs of the coarse towel, gathering water molecules into the material until he was somewhat dry. It was the typical nightly routine of Bruce Wayne, in which he was guilty of vacating you of.

Bruce witnessed—took part in—how you ended your night. A late night snack, a book, a tv show—and he’d stroke your hair to the sound of his heartbeat until you were out like a light. He’d never forget to kiss your forehead as if it was an enchantment that would guard him for the rest of the night. Naively, Bruce was apprehensive of the subtle chance of reducing his survival rate if he were to miss a night of seeing you—touching you. Even if you had the biggest argument with him, even if you were in the wrong, he’d make sure to see you one last time before escaping into the shadows, saving the city—saving you.

After dressing himself in a fresh set of briefs, the soft cushions of his bed and pillows enticed him back into sanctuary. He crawled back into bed and instinctively found his arms around your body, warm and full against the recovering bruises against his own flesh. Skipping dinner was a norm, but he felt satiated when he could hear you breathe, feel your pulse, and watch you writhe within his doting affection.

“Goodnight.” Bruce muttered as he nestled his nose into your hair, another deep inhale of your scent to ground him that you were still present in his life. And then another as his head turned towards your neck, a familiar smell that taunted him to lean closer until his nose pressed softly into the crook of your skin.

White musk.

The top note of his favourite cologne on you. It lingered delightfully in Bruce’s nostrils, and there was a reason why he always urged you to spray it on date nights. It was intoxicating.

Come to think of it, Bruce’s night routine hadn’t completely checked off all of his tasks for the night. After he would come home, it was a no-brainer to shower off the sweat, dirt, and sometimes blood, from his patrols. He would scrape his hair clean with the shampoo suds, mint and cooling on his scalp. Then he’d move onto his body. The suds would trickle down his torso, gather in his muscles, and he’d add onto the bubbles with his body wash, lathering himself from head to toe. And almost always, the slightest brush of his length would break the restraints the night had locked his sanity behind. It was always you that managed to free him. As he would squeeze himself, fondle his sack while the suds dribbled down his leg and feet, he’d think of you—miss you in ways he wouldn’t dare to ignore, ways in which he was ashamed to desert you of.

“I’m all yours.” Your proclamation echoed, ran marathons in Bruce’s mind as the white musk led him astray. The simple thought of him taking advantage of you guilted him, churned his stomach until it was bundled into thick knots, but it made his heart race.

“(M/N)?” He whispered. The bed creaked when Bruce peered over you, and he was met by silence. A few soft snores joined the ticking of the clock, but for the most part, silence.

I shouldn’t… Bruce convinced himself. It was… shameful to even think of taking advantage of you like that—in your unconscious state, in your vulnerability. You looked peaceful in your slumber and knowing how hard you worked, he wouldn’t dare to ruin it because of his own selfish desires.

He sighed, rolling flat onto his back again, hoping the uncomfortable ache in his briefs would settle down in a minute or so. When it didn’t, Bruce tended to it with a brief re-adjustment of the way his length stood. Then again as he twitched in defiance.

Again, as he throbbed.

And again, when his briefs couldn’t support his throbbing erection anymore. 

Bruce turned his head to the side, scanning your unconscious state. His eyes traced the languid form of your body as it sank deep into the mattress, hugging the air to your body while he slowly pulled the blanket off of you.

The bed creaked as inch by inch, Bruce scooted closer to you, turning back to lie on his side and nearly spooning you again. His movements were sluggish, apprehensive to wake you, but at the same time, there was an adrenaline rush surging through him knowing he could be caught any second (despite your permission).

His hand felt it as it caressed your arm in singular, docile strokes. Then his breath, as he leaned closer, pressing himself against you again, and slipped a hand under your shirt. Your bare stomach rested warmly against his calloused palm, and he felt your breath hitch, your stomach tensed, every evidence of your presence, as Bruce ran a palm upwards to touch your chest once, then back down to bravely slither under the waistband of your boxers.

“Fuck…” Bruce’s breath unevened, struggling to keep a steady rhythm, when his palm gently groped a handful of your flaccid cock, a complete opposite of the shameful erection he was prodding near your bottom. You writhed once, and he quickly paused with a shudder as you suddenly turned to lie on your back, smacking the dryness in your throat away as you drove yourself into deeper slumber.

He found it unusual how you haven’t awakened by now, but the cynical part of him pleaded for you to remain asleep—until he had his way with you.

Gently, Bruce lifted your hips to pull down the remainder of your boxers off until you were bare in all of your glory before him. Your balls lay briefly in between your legs before they were back to being fondled in his warm palms. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this…”

Droplets of sweat formed over Bruce’s hairline as he sluggishly maneuvered himself to kneel over your unconscious state. His thighs hardened, flexed as he maintained his balance over you. He stroked his cock with his free-hand; to the gentle snores you poured out, to your slightly parted lips that he could easily spread open with his girth, and to his surprise, to the stiffness of your cock as it stirred awake from his constant fondling.

What are you dreaming about? Are you dreaming of me? Are you dreaming of being fucked by me? Bruce groaned as he witnessed the once softened features of your face stiffened into diffident lust. Your breath unknowingly quickened when Bruce began stroking your cock together with his in one grasp. Your body writhed with uncomfortable pleasure as if you wanted whatever was happening to you to stop, yet the throbbing veins of your cock begged Bruce for more—to hold you for longer, to keep doing as he pleased.

Bruce forgot what it was like to have you like this; to have you squirming beautifully beneath him, dripping in heavy pre-cum while simultaneously having your cock lathered in his own fluid. He was enticed by your every movement, squirming and writhing confined by the state of slumber as you couldn’t stop him. You couldn’t stop the uncomfortable pleasure that was happening to you because you were dreaming a dream that refrained you from resisting your boyfriend.

I know you want it. Fuck… I know you want my cum, (M/N). He paused briefly to press his forehead into yours, sweat dripping off his face and onto your body in his maneuver, and breathed languidly against your lips to find the parting in order to breathe his lewd thoughts into you. Bruce was careless, dangerously brave as he slipped a tongue inside of you to spread your mouth open further. You made a sound, but he muted it with a swallow as he ravished you like honey on a spoon. Remnants of mint lingered on his tongue, and as much as he wanted to continue tasting you, he needed to relieve himself.

He was close.

Carefully, he dragged himself over your chest and kneeled over your chest. Bruce’s cock hung heavy above your slumber, dripping in thick strings of pre-cum from the plump tip—a shameful exhibit of how much this had turned him on, how much he had been deprived of this act for so long.

Open wide. It was morbid. Bruce never thought himself of ever once doing this obscene act, but the guilt that had been the cause of his apprehension was only fleeting the moment he pushed his cock into your sleeping mouth. 

“Oh, fuck…” He was careful with you. Careful enough to not stir you awake, but courageous enough to fulfill his sense of greed. Bruce pushed deeper, and deeper until he couldn’t anymore. His thick cock steadied your breathing and in favor, your saliva warmed him with complete gratitude.

Come on, I know you can take it… His eyes darkened at your inability to take his girth. As much as it sounded like a threat, it drove him delirious knowing you couldn’t. Even in your waking moments, it fueled a sense of pride when you gagged on his cock, covered him in bubbly thick spittle, and looked like an absolute mess while attempting to swallow him again.

Fuck, (M/N)... You’d pull him out when you had enough of gagging on his cock and jerk him off instead, catching your breath in the midst of it all. He never told you, but it was Bruce’s favourite part whenever you two did this together. The pure lust in your eyes, craving for a fill that you and him both know that he would deliver upon greatly. And somehow, as lewd as the act was, you both knew it was more than sex. You and Bruce were making love, fucking with a craving that you only have for each other because it was only you two that could bring this type of pleasure to one another. 

“Fuck—” Bruce paced himself, biting back an adamant moan, thrusting slow yet filling into your mouth as he held onto the headboard. The scrape of your teeth made him hiss, but the pleasure of your warm mouth was so fulfilling that it overwhelmed any painful feeling you’ve prescribed him to.

I’m close, (M/N)... Fuck, let me cum on you… On your body, on your face, I want it everywhere on you.

He released his cock from your mouth and took the heavy girth into his own palm, pumping the muscle with a sudden vigor that had been motivated to see you covered in his fluids. Bruce’s eyes rolled back into his lids, panting heavy and harder because he was so close—so fucking close. He could see you sticking your tongue out for him, on your knees, playing with your cum-covered cock as you would wait patiently for his reward. You would begin begging for it—his cum, his cock, him. You’d worship his body, mouthing at his toned thighs, then his abdominal muscles, licking the sweat off the gutters to briefly satiate your appetite for Bruce.

Until you were gifted with his indulgent desire for you and only you in the form of thick and creamy white ropes. “I’m comin—” Bruce’s stomach sucked in hard, his abs contracting while his thighs vibrated with tremors, then with a guttural push, he released himself with a strong grunt. His grasp directed his thick and heavy loads towards your chest and stomach, stroking his throbbing cock through the glorious sprays. He sucked in his teeth to control the sounds that were threatening to burst out of his throat and whimpered with a shudder when it was unmanageable, continuing to empty his balls until he could smell the heavy sex and musk off your body.

Scanning you from head to toe, Bruce was breathless. Despite his delirious stint, it was impressive to see you drifting off to sleep like nothing had happened. Or rather, it was impressive that he had a certain amount of control to not completely make love to you like a wild mammal, rousing you from sleep.

Nonetheless, he powered through the overwhelming need to sleep to clean you up, even if you hadn’t mind the mess. And like always, he never forgot to end his night with a kiss, pressing a chaste yet breathless pant to your lips.

“Think your way of ‘taking care of me’ needs more time in the workshop , but we’ll talk about it later.” 

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[leth-writes]

Yandere batfam x reader part 5

The first thing you noticed, peering through your crusty eyelids, was the unfamiliar surroundings. Instead of your small, crapped bed, you were spread out in a large, luxurious one, red flannel draped over you and pulled up to your chin. You groaned and crawled out of the soft prison, coming to your feet in the middle of the sparse room. It was an average sized room, populated only by the bed, a dresser, and multiple posters, as well as the open door into the dark bathroom and what you assumed was the door into the hallway. You walked over to the closed drapes, yanking them open. It felt like a bucket of ice was dumped on your head as you stared forlornly at the iron bars. They were small and thin; from the outside, you may not even not even realize they were there to keep you from escaping. 

The thin, dull light of the mid-morning streamed in, illuminating the walls in bits and pieces. It was then you saw the posters. The walls were lined in posters featuring your favorite films and bands. How were you in a room seemingly decorated to match your interests? Whatever the reason, you didn’t care to find out. Mind made up and thoroughly creeped out, you strode over to the door- or at least, you tried. It was then you noticed the thin leather band connecting your left wrist to the bedpost. You were stuck.

The door creaked open, and Bruce Wayne peeked in. “Oh, you’re up!” He exclaimed, giving you a small smile. He closed the door, approaching you and bringing you in for a hug. “I’m so glad to finally have you in my arms, sweetheart, but I understand you have questions, so why don’t we sit down?” He gestured to the bed and the both of you sat.

“Listen, Mr. Wayne-”

“Bruce, you can call me Bruce,” he interrupted, looking hopeful.

“Mr. Wayne,” you continued, pushing past his weak interruptions. “Listen, I’m really sorry that I took your money, but I promise I’ll pay you back… Just please let me go!��� You begged, tearing up. All you needed was to get out.

He sighed, looking off through the window. He was weirdly buff, now that you thought about it. He didn’t look like he would fill out his t-shirt as much as he did, muscles straining against it; on tv he always looked lean and tall, though it turned out he was built more like a boxer than a runner, like you had assumed. Bruce started talking, snapping you out of your reverie. As he talked, his face slackened slightly, losing that almost too bright smile and shifting into a quieter, more authentic expression.

“We aren’t going to hurt you- you’re part of this family now. I don’t mind about the money, in fact, I’d gladly give you as much as you could take; it was all worth it to get to meet you. But you have to work with us, sweetheart. We can’t be the only ones making effort. You’re going to have to stay here until we can trust you, at least…” He continued, starting directly into your eyes and searching for your reaction.

You shivered at the intensity of his expression. “What… what do you need from me?” All you could hope is that you wouldn’t have to sell your soul to save your skin. Scenarios filled with violence and pain flashed through your head almost faster than you could react. 

“Just be patient with us, and don’t shut us out, and it’ll be okay. Like I said, we won’t hurt you, we just want to see you happy.” As long as it was with them, you finished mentally.

All you had to do was trick them into thinking that you weren’t a threat, and then you could escape at the first opportunity. That’s all you had to do.

How hard could it be? After all, even though he was definitely stronger than you were expecting, it was still Brucey Wayne, the man who confused a duck and a chicken and who thought a banana cost $100… It couldn’t be too difficult to trick him. 

At least, that’s what you were hoping.

[toluene-sister]

Yay he's here~ Angsty teen Brucey to go with my goth high school Joker

Plus a silly little HS AU bonus ✨️

[fordtato]

The Gravity Falls Timeline

All of this is based on my video, but I assume not many people will want to sit through 2.5 hours of me working this out, so here's a condensed written version.

Some rules I set for myself: If the actual name of an IP, a person or an event is referenced in J3/the Show, I included it into my math for my timeline (ex: references to Ronald Reagan or The Eurythmics, or other REAL WORLD figures). If a REFERENCE is made without the actual name being referenced (ex: in the Journal, Ford mentions Phantom Bustifiers, a reference to Ghostbusters, a movie that didn’t come out in our world until 1984), I did not put that into this timeline (I know what year Ghostbusters came out, but not which year Phantom Bustifiers came out).

With that in mind, let’s begin:

The Stans are born June 15 1951.

Evidence: 

Their Bar Mitzvah happened when they were 12 (not 13, as is typical) and their birthday is on June 15th. Because a Bar Mitzvah is dependent on one’s birthday on the Hebrew calendar and not the Gregorian calendar, this means that their 13th Hebrew birthday must land on a date that is BEFORE their 13th Gregorian birthday, something that is typically more rare (the Hebrew birthday is usually AFTER one’s typically celebrated birthday).

The only viable year where this applies is 1951, when their birthday lands on Sivan 11, resulting in a 13th Hebrew birthday in May of 1964, BEFORE their 13th birthday on June 15th

The Stans find the Stan O War in spring of 1964 at age 12 (or 1961, if you think they were 10)

Evidence:

There are two viable dates for when they find the Stan o War, depending on if they’re 10 (the same age Stan was when he started writing Lil Stanley in the Lost Legends comics) or 12 (the same age as Dipper and Mabel). I think that the way the artist drew the young Stan twins in the Lil Stanley comic looks (age 10) looks slightly younger than how they look in the series (and they are designed a little differently than they look in the Jersey Devil comic, when we KNOW they have the Stan O War already), but there is evidence for both sides.

I lean toward them being 12 because they pull out a sharpie, which wasn’t invented until 64, but there is a reference to a Bruce Springsteen song in a magazine in Lost Legends, quoted by someone named “Brucey S, age 11” and Bruce Springsteen would have been 11 in 1961, so this might be 1961 (or the magazine Ford is reading from might be an old magazine.) I went with 1964, because I think 12 parallelled the ages of Dipper and Mabel better. 

Stan gets kicked out in spring of 1969 right before they turned 18. Ford starts at Backupsmore in the fall semester.

Evidence: 

Stan makes a reference to Jackie O, which means Jackie Kennedy already remarried to be Jackie Onnassis, and is also still in the public eye, something that would be progressively less common after 1969 (she also happened to visit New Jersey in spring of 1969 and that would have made state headlines, something which is probably a coincidence, but nonetheless very interesting).

Furthermore, there is a portrait of Nixon in the principal’s office, and he would have been sworn in in early 1969. 

I think 1969 is more likely than 1970 because ‘69 gives more wiggle room for Shermie to be the baby (more on that later) and for Ford to get at least one PhD.

-Stan dates Carla “Hotpants” McCorkle,(reconnecting for another date after the one at the theater in their teenage years), probably in 1971 (if this “hallucinatey” date even happened at all; if you dont think it happened at all, disregard). 

Evidence:

We know this is a later date, when stan is an adult, because his design matches the designs on one of his fake IDs from his years on the run. It was likely 1971 because that is when the term “hotpants” was used to describe those short shorts.

The hippie aesthetic also started dying down after 1972 after the Manson attacks, so I picked 71 for the Juke Joint date.

Ford graduated from Backupsmore at the very earliest 1974, MAYBE early 1975.

Evidence:

In the journal it says he went to Gravity Falls in 1975, but we know he couldn’t have graduated earlier than 74, because we know that he played DDnMoreD in college, and he says in the journal that it was copyrighted in 1974. He also says Stanley always mocked him for playing it, which literally isn’t possible, so he’s either misremembering Stanley mocking him for an EARLIER TTRPG, or this copyright is for a later edition (though I think it must be the former, since DDnMD is a clear reference to DnD which WAS copyrighted in 1974. Still. Up to you.)

This means he completed his PhD in 6 years (or, three years ahead of schedule as described in the series). I believe many of his other PhDs were honorary degrees, and didn't bother working them into this timeline. He got them later.

Stan joins Rico’s gang in the late 70s

Evidence: 

Sometime in the late 70s, Stan gets tangled up in what is implied to be the Colombian cartel, which would have been most active in the late 70s, between 75 and 79. Following his trajectory on the map in ATOTS showing his path across the country, he headed below the border toward the end of that trackline, so it was probably later on.

Ford started Journal 3 in 1981, shortly after meeting Bill in 1981. 

Evidence: 

He says he discovered his muse in 1981 in J3. He also says he is starting J3 six years after he started investigating Gravity Falls (which he did in 75). He also says early on in J3 that he is in his 30s, and he would have turned 30 in June of 1981, three days before he started J3.

There is some fuckery here on how he’s known his muse for “two years” midway J3, and the way I explain that in the video is that the first part of J3 spans nearly 2 years, and there is ample evidence that he wrote many pages out of order. This might be a page from later on in 1982, early 83, instead of mid-81. 

We know that Reagan was already in office at this point.

 Fiddleford shows up in July of 1982. Fiddleford begins making the memory gun after the Gremloblin incident later that year. 

Evidence:

We know at least a year has passed because if you track the months, they go from June, to August, and then later on down to July again when Fiddleford is called. As for the Gremloblin incident, it happened relatively close to the bunker incident (which would have been closer to summer, since it was still hot outside) but it was followed closely by the carnival, where they had squash for sale, and squash are in season after September, typically. 

First Portal Test is on January 18, 1983

Fiddleford falls through the portal, his head poking through, on January 18 1983, the day after the confrontation he had with Ford in the diner. 

Late February, 1983 - The Portal Incident

Evidence:

There are three many reasons I chose this date. Firstly, we know it is 1983 not just because it follows the trajectory of earlier dates, but because we know that Ford has heard The Eurythmics’ chart topper “Sweet Dreams Are Made of This” because when he returns he says he is looking forward to their next one, and that came out in January of 83’, before he would have been sucked through.

Secondly, five weeks after January 18th, it would still be snowy in up-mountain Oregon where Ford is, but not that snowy in New Mexico where Stan is when he gets the post card.

Thirdly, we know at least 5-6 weeks have passed because Ford describes about this many weeks during his “paranoid era” in the journal (more than one instance of “a couple weeks, several weeks, a few weeks”, etc.). 

In the year 2000, Dipper and Mabel are born. 

Evidence:

I know most people think it’s 1999. And that is fine, but I have ample evidence that the show takes place in 2013, not 2012 (see below), so 2000 would have to work for their birthday.

But 2000 also gives a little bit of wiggle room to Shermie being the baby. (If you don’t think Shermie is the baby, disregard this section). If Shermie IS the baby, then if he was born in spring of 1969 (late 68 at the earliest), then you can barely fit two generations of Pines in the space between 1969 and 2000. It would mean that both Shermie and his kid would need to be 15 when they had a kid, which is … not great, but not impossible? I dunno man, take it up with Hirsch. (Or just assume the baby is Shermie’s kid. Follow your dreams).

In 2013, Dipper and Mabel visit their Grunkle Stan in Gravity Falls. 

Evidence: 

The Northwest ghost died in what is described in the journal as “The Great Flood of 1863”. The Northwests are trying to keep this flood under wraps in J3, because they don’t want people finding out about the lumberjacks killed in the flood. The Northwest Ghost swore with his dying breath to come back 150 yrs after his death. 150 years later from 1863, is 2013.

The 1040 form that Stan is filling out his Tax Fraud note on in the truth-telling ep is a 2012 form. To file tax returns, you use w2s 1040s labeled under the PREVIOUS year

Sevral Timez shouts "2013"

1983 is 30 years before 2013. 

Note: This would mean that the Stans are 62 at the end of the summer, which might mean that they are "pushing 70" as Stan describes himself.

Anyways, here's the full video if you have 2.5 hours. Otherwise, enjoy this resource!

[rosiestalez]

One Swipe With Love

Battinson x teacher!f!reader

wc: 990

Summary: You take a shopping trip with Bruce’s card to stock up on your favorite things. You see him struggling to remove his makeup one morning, and you help him take it off. He does the same thing after a long day of work.

Warnings: None, pure tooth rotting fluff

——————————————————————

Bruce could never take off his eyeliner properly. He would rub his eyes raw with soap and water, and for some reason it wouldn’t come off with as much ease as yours did. He would borrow your eyeliner from time to time, the water proof stuff, and he thought that was issue. Yet, when it was time for bed he’d still have remnants of his batman eyeliner smeared on his eyes.

When you came home one afternoon with a Sephora bag he was quite intrigued by your purchases with his credit card.

“Hey baby!”, you speak loudly from the entry way, “I wanna show you everything!”, you kick off your shoes and make your way into the living area where Bruce is sitting watching the news. He turns to you muting the tv. You kiss his forehead before taking a spot next to him on the couch.

It always seems like you two are polar opposite, through energy, clothes, color, interests, but you two still seem to find a way to love each other. Today he’s wearing a basic black on black sweat suit, but you however an elementary schoolteacher was wearing your favorite white tennis skirt and a hot pink tank top for your day off. Your makeup was beautiful, and you decided to do a touch of eyeshadow for your shopping trip.

“Show me what you got baby”, a slight smile tugs at his lips. You smile widely dumping out the contents from the bag, “wow that’s a lot!”, his eyebrows rising, “which card was this on?”

“The Black Amex one”, you pause, “I think”, your smile still wide. He just sighs.

“Baby, you’re so lucky i love you”, you giggle at his response handing him the card from your purse, “Alright now show me everything!”, his voice lined with sarcastic cheer.

You go through all the products, what they’re used for and why you need them. He doesn’t quite understand it, but he loves seeing your face light up when you explain everything to him.

“Oh! and this! this is my FAVORITE, makeup remover. it’s like a balm and it’s old based it’s awesome! it even removes my eye liner!”, holding up a bottle of Fenty Cleansing Balm.

Bruce’s eyes light up, you said it “removes eyeliner?”

“mhmm! even my waterproof stuff, it’s great”, you smile.

“Do you think I could maybe try it soon? like tonight?”, he asks softly.

“oh! Of course my love!” nodding your head, “I can even show you how to use it!”, and with that a genuine smile plasters all over his face.

Later that night Bruce plants a kiss on your lips before he leave for patrol leaving you and Alfred alone in the Manor. You’re nestled under the covers of your shared bed reading one of your favorite books with a cup of tea by your side. He’s never here to share these moments with you like your coworkers partners, who sit with them while they grade papers or make lesson plans. For you, that’s okay, because during the day Bruce is by your side with lavish gifts, support, and during the school year he drops by the school once a week for storytelling. Finishing your chapter, you roll over pulling the string to the lamp and you close your eyes to sleep.

—-

Your alarm blares, and you hear Bruce walking into the room, ‘5:30 am’. You get out of bed to begin your morning routine, while Bruce begins his night routine. You meet him in the bathroom, and see him trying to take his makeup off. “Good morning Brucey”, you hum.

“Morning, love”, his voice husky.

“D’you need some help?”, you smile sleepily. He nods, you open the cabinet under the sink pulling out your makeup remover you baught yesterday. “okay, so this is how it works”, you squeeze out a bit from the tube emulsifying it in your hand before rubbing gentle circles around his eyes removing the black makeup slowly. You direct him to wash his face under water before taking micellar water to wipe away the rest. “There you go baby, all clean. are you headed off to bed?”

“For a little bit, i have to go through some evidence about the Riddler character.”

“Promise me you’ll sleep for at least three hours”, your voice sweet.

“yeah”, he says plainly mustering up a facetious smile. You stand up on your tip-toes and plant a kiss on his forehead before scooting him out the bathroom to shower.

—-

You were exhausted, the kids were obnoxious, the school smelled awful from whatever they were cooking in the cafeteria, and during morning work a kid puked seconds away from the bathroom door. It was truly one of your worse days as an educator and that’s saying a lot. You walk through the front door greeting Alfred, and planting yourself in the den enjoying the silence that you’ve been craving all day. You exhale deeply soaking up all the couch’s plush warmth.

“Babe?”, a voice can be heard from the door way, “you okay?”, Bruce asks.

“i’m okay, just a long day”, you smile lazily.

“Rough day?”

“Something like that”, you sit up on the couch and Bruce takes a seat beside you. He brings you into a cuddle hug, running his fingers through your hair. You move further into his embrace letting his motions relax your mind. “I need food ASAP, i’m starving.”

“Alfred is working on dinner”, his voice low, “want to take that makeup off?”

You nod simply before standing up and following him into the master bathroom. He ushers you to sit down on the closed toilet seat just as you did this morning to him. He pulls out your makeup remover from beneath the sink and follows the same steps you showed him earlier.

He gives a tender kiss on your forehead , “s’beautiful”, he compliments, you smile, reaching up to plant a kiss on his lips.

a/n: snack on this while we continue to wait for poll results:)!

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

hallo! Could I request Comfort prompt 11 for Bruce Wayne? Your writing always makes me smile.(except when it supposed to make me sad, but I like that too)

Thank you!! Posted from mobile, so sorry for any mistakes!

Warnings: None; this is pure fluff

The office was empty and quiet, and had been for a while. You waved your hand periodically to trigger the motion sensor of the fluorescent lights when they winked out on you. It was late, and you had already been there far longer than you meant to be. You sighed, weary, leaning back against your desk and propping your chin up on your hand. Your eyes were beginning to cross; you felt like you'd read the presentation slides a hundred times, but they didn't feel finished.

You groaned as the lights winked off again, but before you could move, they suddenly flickered back to life. You frowned, and then--

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

You screeched at the sound of Bruce's voice, whirling around in your office chair. He bit the inside of his cheek and raised a penitent hand, clearly fighting the urge to laugh. You huffed in annoyance, pressing your palm over your pounding heart as you settled back down in your chair.

"Don't...Do that."

"I'm sorry," Bruce apologized, walking closer.

"And I know exactly what time it is, thank you."

"What's got you here so late?"

"Proofing the slides for tomorrow."

"Still?"

"I don't think they're ready."

Bruce sighed softly, pulling a chair from another desk up beside yours.

"Here. I'll trade you."

Your brow furrowed in confusion before you broke into a smile at the sight of a bag of takeout.

"Oh, Brucey," You cooed, "You do like me."

He snorted, reaching out and picking up the laptop.

"I'll give these a look while you eat."

You leaned over, pecking his cheek before opening the bag--the hot aluminum dish, wrapped hunk of bread, and a smaller dish with a side salad. Your stomach growled as the scent filled your nose. You popped open the lid, stabbing your little plastic fork into the piping hot baked ziti. You pushed it around a little to let the heat out before glancing guardedly toward Bruce. He had a solid poker face: eyes darting from side to side as he read, brow drawn slightly, lips pursed...Until they moved:

"...Stop staring and eat your dinner."

"I can eat and stare."

"You can, but you aren't."

"The pasta's hot. I'm letting it cool."

Bruce cut you an unimpressed glance, but his lips twitched with a smile.

"Anything?" You asked, nodding toward the laptop.

"I've had time to read one slide. One."

"And?"

"It was perfect." He nodded toward the dish again. "Eat."

You took an obliging bite, groaning softly at the taste.

"There's water in the bag, too."

"I freaking love you," You mumbled around the mouthful, fishing into the plastic bag for the cold bottle. Bruce huffed a soft laugh through his nose, murmuring, "Love you, too, honey."

"How'd you know I'd still be here?"

"Lucky guess. You get singleminded when you're worried about work."

"I think singleminded is a bit strong."

"You're in the office at 11:30 on a Tuesday night, proofing slides that I'm positive are perfect. That is the definition of singleminded."

"I'm committed to my job, I like my job."

"I'm not knocking it, honey," Bruce soothed, smoothing his hand over your knee. "I just want to make sure you're taking care of yourself as well as you take care of your work."

"Mm, but if I take care of myself, what'll you do all day?"

Bruce laughed, raising his hand and gently tweaking your nose.

"I'd have time to learn to play polo."

"You want to play polo?"

"Alfred suggested it." He chucked you gently under the chin before beginning to turn back to your laptop.

You leaned in before he could get too far, pecking his lips gently. Bruce smiled, chasing your lips for one more kiss before refocusing. You watched the mask of concentration fall over his face again, and you couldn't help but smile.

"Eat."

"You're so cute when you concentrate."

"I am not cute."

"Bruce Wayne is a cutie patootie."

"If you call me cute one more time, I will put typos in these slides."

[screamingcrows]

Tomorrow - Dottore x reader

Note: Dottore isn't his usual self here, I'm aware. This is meant to be with my so far unknown to everyone OC, but this scenario fits x reader format. Written in Tumblr drafts as I lay in bed. Keep this out of character ai bots or I'm sending Trypanosoma brucei after you.

Tags: comfort?, soft, gn reader, skin to skin contact happens twice that's it, they are not in a romantic relationship (yet), pining

MINORS, AGELESS, BLANK BLOGS DNI

You'd never had reason to set foot in The Second's chambers, had never imagine you would either. It made the intimacy of this moment far greater than you cared to process. He was heavy when he leaned against your smaller frame, one arm slung across your shoulders for support.

Both of you remained quiet while Dottore fumbled with his keys, your eyes flickering to his gloved hand. It still trembled. How long had he been awake by now?

It had been at least four days since the door to his laboratory had been open to anyone but his segments. Not even you had been allowed in, a sentiment that made everyone uneasy. And he despised sleeping in there.

It had always infuriated you how he failed to maintain his own body. The act should theoretically hold the same value as any other system maintenance. Theory and practise rarely aligned, a fact you knew by heart.

A gentle nudge against your shoulder set your body in motion, pushing open the door and leading your superior inside.

It had a surprisingly homely feel to it, causing your steps to falter briefly as you looked around. Most of the furniture was fashioned from dark wood, creating an almost intimate feeling. Shelves filled with books lined the walls, an occasional ornament lingering amongst the tomes.

His desk looked well worn, polish having long since matted. A smile tugged at your lips, it resembled him in many ways.

Your musings were cut short when Dottore shifted his weight, pulling away from your body with a slight groan. His hands rubbed at his lower back, a habit you'd observed despite countless claims that nothing somatic was ailing him.

"Don't"

It was a simple command, his voice a little rougher than usual. The fact that he hadn't asked you to leave threw you off.

"Is there anything you need, Doctor?"

Dottore mumbled something under his breath, making you sigh in defeat. Even now, undoubtedly at his weakest point in a long time, there was no real aid for you to provide.

Uncomfortable with merely standing around, you went to draw the curtains, leaving only a tiny crack for natural light to enter. It made the situation worse, heat pooling in your gut at the sheer familiarity of the gesture.

Dottore had sunk to his knees when you turned back around. His face was pressed into the edge of the mattress, the characteristic mask discarded on the ground.

His hair had grown to an unruly length. When had he become this unkempt? Your fingers itched to run through those locks.

"Doctor, if there's nothing I can do, I'll take my leave"

The gloves had been discarded as well. No matter how many times you saw his hands it didn't ease the sting behind your eyes. It looked painful. Burnt skin, thin scars, and crooked fingers all spoke of a past best buried. His back straightened at the sound of your voice.

"Tomorrow. It'll be finished tomorrow"

A cryptic message, but you didn't feel like prodding. Not with how he seemed to dwindle in the darkness. His hands moved to unbutton the blue shirt, letting it unceremoniously fall to the ground.

"Okay?"

Your feet carried you closer against your will. The curiosity he praised you for would forever remain a curse.

His skin looked ashen. A trick of the light no doubt, that much should be logical. It didn't help the unease feeling spreading through you.

"Come by tomorrow. The laboratory. I must show you."

With every word his shoulders slumped further. He was as muscular as you'd expected, perhaps even more so with how little sustenance you saw him consume.

Objectively, he was beautiful. Subjectively, you could hardly process the sight. Outstretched hand already reaching towards him. He tensed when your palm made contact, his skin surprisingly warm.

Scars ran across his shoulders and back, oh how you yearned to map them and hear their stories. His was a life lived.

In a moment of folly, you pressed your lips to his shoulder, feeling it rise with the sharp intake of breath.

"Tomorrow then."

You left his chambers with practised nonchalance, your gait a mirror of The Second's. You could still taste his skin on your lips. Had your faith been intact, you would have prayed tomorrow never came. Tonight would have been enough.

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Pretty As A Picture - Chapter 9

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Theme: Soulmates - Feeling the connection as soon as you see each other.

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one of her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

Warnings will be per chapter.

For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.

Chapter Summary: The reader is in the Med Bay and she's not happy about it.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of blood, medical procedures.

There was a buzzing in your ears and the lights were two bright. There's a voice, intermittent through the buzz.

"Doll, can you hear me? Doll, doll, please."

You don't know the voice but it's comforting somehow. Then there's another.

"Nobody touches her apart from me." That voice you knew. Bruce.

"Doctor Banner, you'll need an assist. I'll put a line in."

"No, I've got it. It can only be me."

"She's gonna need more than one."

Then there were hands on you, unfamiliar ones and the smell of someone you didn't know. Why do they smell like disinfectant? Hospital? Med Bay? And just like that your eyes snapped open and your lefthand gripped the neck of the male nurse who was trying to put a needle into your arm. He struggled as you started to lift him from the ground.

He gasped out for breath.

"Help please."

Bruce was unfazed and continued to work on getting a line in your other arm but it wouldn't be easy with how dehydrated you were.

"I did try to warn you kid."

"Sweetheart, you want to put him down?" Asked Steve as he moved to the side of the nurse who was now starting to turn blue. "His lips are blue honey, maybe put him down."

You kept your eyes on the nurse, glaring at him and dropped him like a ragdoll.

"Sam get him out of here and have him report to Doctor Cho tomorrow about following orders." Instructed Steve.

Sam acted quickly and pulled the nurse from the room. Steve went to speak but you were quick to cut him off.

"Who the bloody hell are you calling sweetheart Captain Rogers?" Your voice still hoarse and full of annoyance, as you fidgeted in the bed, your eyes moving to Bruce as you watched him start your drip. Steve smirked at you. "Bloody yanks, you're all the same."

Steve's smile turned tearful. It was you. He desperately needed to make eye contact with you so he could be sure.

"Honey, can you look at me please?"

"Is he drunk Brucey?" You asked Bruce.

"Y/N, please put us all out of our misery and our turmoil of the last couple of hours and look at him." Bruce replied.

"What are you talking about?" You asked Bruce, as you turned to look at Steve.

"I've been waiting a little longer than a couple of hours though sweetheart."

Your eyes met and there was a whirling in your stomach, a tightness in your chest and then, wait hang on, hadn't you just felt this with.......

"Oh fuck me sideways."

Bucky snorted with laughed, as Steve's brow furrowed.

"Damn doll, you still swear like a sailor."

You had no idea what was going on. You were sure you'd got a concussion. You definitely lost a lot of blood, and you were in so much pain, probably more than you'd ever been. There was only once that you'd felt close to what you felt now and thinking of that, well you didn't want to. But the intrusive thought was now planted and panic rose through you like a dark storm cloud rolling in and the tightness in your chest grew and your vision blurred. Throw into the mix you now apparently had two soulmates and you stuttered as you tried to understand.

"I don't, I don't understand. Bruce I, what....they......I don't understand." You said confused. Before Bruce could answer, Steve tried to reassure you.

"It's OK sweetheart. It's gonna be OK."

"But I, I don't get it, I don't understand."

"We're your soulmates sweetheart."

"I don't, what, we? We?"

Before he had chance to answer the machine at the side of you started to beep erratically and Bruce was moving around the room quickly and pushing Steve away to put a line in your other arm.

"Y/N, I need you to try and calm down."

"But he said, and then he said......." Pointing between Steve and Bucky.

"I know, I heard him."

"Is it true? BRUCE IS IT TRUE?" You tearfully yelled. The door to your hospital room flew open and Natasha stormed in.

"What's with the yelling? And why is there a nurse half dead out there?"

"He's not half dead!!! I can hear his pulse AND he touched me when Brucey told him not to."

"Alright sweetie calm down."

Your panic suddenly switched to rage.

"Calm down, calm bloody down. You know I don't like Med Bays Romanoff!!! AND I've just been dropped in the shit by the agency I'm on the job for, I've found my new soul sister's presumed dead brother, walked god knows how far, whilst he's dying in my arms. I'm bleeding externally, internally and I've got multiple broken bones. I'm gonna throw up any minute and these two, are apparently my soulmates, which makes no fucking sense whatsoever."

You went to continue on your rant but stopped as Maria knocked and walked in. Sam's voice could be heard telling her it wasn't a good time.

"You!" And you tried to lunge from the bed clattering the drips in the bed as they went with you, everyone moved to stop you. "No!!! Get off of me!!! Me and Maria are going to have a little chat!!! I told you that intel looked off. I fucking told you and you assured me it was fine."

"Fury checked it himself."

"BULLSHIT!!! And if he did he sent me in knowing there was more chance of me coming out dead. Tell him, tell him from me, we are done, I don't care if the worlds on fire. I don't care if he's on fire. Tell him from me, if he requests me again, I will punch him in the throat, that's if I've not killed him first."

"Y/N" Maria started to speak but Bruce stopped her as the monitor behind you bleeped loudly again.

"I need you to calm down and lay down. We need to get you into a gown and into the cradle."

"I'm not going in that thing, it's like a coffin."

"Y/N, your BP is unstable and you're bleeding internally, you have catastrophic injuries. You need to get in the cradle."

You had never felt anger like it. It surged through your veins and you wondered if this was how Bruce felt when he turned green. You held yourself up on the bed rail and gripped it hard as it started to bend. Bucky and Steve watched in shock as it bent in your righthand. Natasha was unfazed as she held the other and spoke softly to you in Russian, your grip of that hand completely different. You began to gasp and cough as Natasha encouraged you to lie back down. Bucky moved the pillows around and guided you back, adding in odd words of encouragement. Your gaze was very much still fixed on Maria. Steve gave her a firm look and she turned and left the room. Natasha began to unzip your suit and the coughing increased and grew more violent. You put your hand over your mouth as you coughed. When you finally managed to stop you looked at your hand to find it splatted with blood. Bruce saw it and muttered something about lungs, compression and your suit, telling Natasha to stop unzipping you. You heard a whirling of motors and felt the bed shift.

You panicked and started to move up the bed as the cradle started to form around it.

"Bruce please."

“I need to get you stable. I'm sorry Y/N but you need to go in the cradle. We’re going to need to go in around your suit.”

“Why? Wouldn’t sure be better in a gown.” Asked Steve, “The ones designed for the cradle. She won’t be comfortable.”

“Sorry but that suit is holding her together right now.”

Steve and Bucky’s eyes went wide. The cradle began to connect around the bed and your heart rate spiked.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“Bruce please, please, please, I can’t it’s too much, it’s too much like……knock me out please. I can’t do it please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please Bruce. I’m scared.” And then the damn broke and you started to cry. Steve and Bucky started to reassure you and tried to hold your hand and stroke your face through the gaps in the cradle.

“Natasha, due to her current state and as her registered next of kin I’ll need you to confirm.”

Nat brushed a stray tear away and nodded.

“I’m sorry honey, it has to be verbal.”

Nat looked at you and you nodded weakly.

“Put her under.”

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@abaker74 @calwitch @slowlyshycomputer @paasrin @cjand10 @otterlycanadian @animegirlgeeky

Let me know if you want to be added to any of my taglists!!!

[brucespringsteencomments]

I'm curious how many people here think of Bruce as “The Boss.”  I know a lot of people (on tumblr especially) think of him as “Brucie/Brucey” but does anyone actually think of him as “The Boss?”

For me personally I only view him as “The Boss” from about 2000-2014 ish. Anything before or after that he’s Brucie to me.

[itsbrucey]

HI BESTIE GUESS WHAT I JUST FINISHED WATCHING (IT WAS BIGTOP BURGER OF COURSE IT WAS BIGTOP BURGER HOLY SHIT WHY THE FUCK DID I NOT TRY TO GET INTO THIS SOONER HOLY SHIT)

My brain chemistry was rewritten 3 years ago and I’m glad to have ruined yours as well. Lets spread this disease……together.

NO BUT FR?? IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT. PLEASE ALSO TELL ME ALL YOUR THOUGHTS ON IT ( and also hey. Bigtop burger DnDads au?? You in? /hj)

I haven’t seen the newest S2 upload which I know has new content and I’m just. So. Over the moon. And also scared bc whenever I talk about Bigtop Burger there always seems to be new content drops??? Ian Worthikids is watching me and takes pleasure in my torment.

THIS IS ALSO ANOTHER CHANCE FOR ME TO GRAB YOU. AND EVERYONE ELSE TO SAY. PLEASE LISTEN TO THE FULL MUSIC IN THE SHOW AND WORTHIKIDS’ OTHER STUFF. HES AN INSANELY TALENTED MUSICIAN AND ANIMATOR AND I THINK BIGTOP BURGER WOULDNT BE HALF THE SHOW IT IS WITHOUT THE LOVINGLY MADE SOUNDTRACK. FRIENDS IN LOW PLACES JUST GOT A REPRISE AND IT FUCKS SO HARD. THANK YOU EVERYBODY, GOOD NIGHT!!!!!!!!

[noritaro]

what comics would you recommend to someone interested in batjokes

you dare release the behemoth inside of me?? (i am kissing you on the forehead beloved anon) Joker is very commonly implied to be in love with Batman most of the time actually- you'd see a lot of gay shit in most comics

these are the ones I started with when I got the batjokes brainrot/one from the top of my head at 4 am, but theres a lotta content out there from DC themselves

Batman: Europa - this is the batjokes bible, its 4 issues and the very first page will make you see as to why i call it the batjokes bible

Scott Snyders Batman run (2011) - more specifically Death of the Family (not to be mistaken for Death in the Family) Endgame and #48

Arkham Asylum Serious House On A Serious Earth - this is straight up one of the best Batman comics in general, Joker is VERY queercoded in this, and if you get the 25th anniversary edition like i did you will get to see old concepts of Joker wearing a black Madonna dress before DC higher ups stepped in

Batman: White Knight - Joker literally has a Batman shrine in this

Batman & The Joker: The Deadly Duo - they team up here dawg

Batman: The Dark Knight Returns - another one of those very iconic Batman comics, almost every Batman fan has read this Joker calls Brucey "darling" here need i say more

I needa go sleep soon do have fun with these as starters :3 happy reading anon

oh and! the Telltale Batman games (particularly the second one) had a fuck ton of batjokes in it! As well as the Arkhamverse games, Joker literally serenades Batsy with love songs in the credits

there's so much canon shit out there even outside of the comic book realms

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Just Let Me Adore You Pt. 1

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: none here, we've just begun

Genre: mostly fluff ig

Summary: You’ve been dating your boyfriend, Bruce, for 3 absolutely blissful years. He’s a scientist and professor who is as smart as he is kind and if anyone asked, you were sure you’d spend the rest of your life with him. That is until two mysteriously charming men that Bruce swears are dangerous take an interest in you that threatens to turn your entire life upside down. I mean… what exactly are you supposed to do with two gorgeous men telling you something that suggests that basically everything you think you know is a lie? And why does part of you have enough doubt to wonder if they might be telling the truth?

Series Masterlist

***

It's a beautiful afternoon as you're wrapping up your shift at the cute little cafe/bookstore you work at.

"See ya later y/n!" Your coworker, a kid named Peter calls after you when you leave.

"See you! Have a good shift!" You wave at him with a smile. Peter's 18 and has only been working at the store for a couple of weeks, so far he's doing pretty well. Most of his shifts are in conjunction with yours and today's one of the first times he'll be working with some of the others. You trained him well so you know he'll be fine but it's kinda like leaving your kid somewhere for the first time. Your walk home is nice, late spring bringing warmer temperatures that aren't yet sweaty which you take advantage of. When you walk into your shared apartment, you find your boyfriend of three years sitting at your kitchen counter. Your boyfriend Bruce is a professor and researcher, and you moved in together almost a year ago.

"Hey y/n." He calls over his shoulder, papers scattered around him and his laptop.

"Hi Brucey. You done with lectures for the day?" You ask draping your arms over his shoulders and kissing his cheek.

"Yeah, I cancelled my second lecture for the day- they've got an exam next class." Bruce tells you.

"Ah I see. So how was your first lecture?"

"It was fine, it was my psych class and we ended up having some very interesting discussions. How was your day? You still training that guy?"

"You mean Peter right? His training is pretty much done, actually today he's working a different shift than me."

"Well how's it going for him?"

"I think he's doing alright honestly. He's a little nervous sometimes but it's kinda cute." You giggle.

"Cute, huh?"

"Yeah, the kid's a ball of nervous energy actually. Sometimes he talks like he's had too many espresso shots and it's so fast he's almost unintelligible but apparently he doesn't even drink coffee, which, I think might be for the best. It's so interesting though, I don't know many teenage boys who display energy that way." You hum.

"Maybe he's got anxiety or something."

"Hm, I hadn't considered that. He probably does." You muse grabbing a bottle of water from your fridge. "Well that's the uni update, anything interesting going on in the research area for you?"

"Oh, yeah we've got a vampire coming to the lab tomorrow actually."

"I'm not sure if I like that honestly." You hum.

"Not to worry sweetheart, it's safe. I won't even be alone with him." Bruce says.

"Right of course, not alone just- with others that are part of a vampire's diet."

"You know not all vampires feed on humans."

"What's the alternative? Animals?"

"Yes, exactly." He nods.

"And the vampire you're studying tomorrow eats animals?"

"Correct."

"And you're sure about that?" You ask.

"Well we're studying him because he's animal fed so I sure hope he is."

"Have you ever studied vampires that do eat humans?"

"Yes, back when I was a research assistant. Honestly, the hardest part about studying vampires is hunting them. Once they're caught you can sedate them and that makes it much easier."

"You hunted them?"

"I mean vampires aren't exactly jumping in line to volunteer for this kind of thing you know." Bruce shrugs.

"So this animal-fed vampire, did he volunteer?"

"Yes he did. I don't really run tests on unwilling participants these days. It's unethical."

"I know that. Sounds like your old research boss didn't feel the same." You say.

"Well, that group of researchers mostly tagged creatures to study their patterns in nature. They weren't so much running tests but it's a bit hard to tag a vampire that's trying to rip your heart out so-" Bruce shrugs.

"Alright well I'll take your word on of yours this vampire tomorrow. Be careful." You say.

"Always darling." He winks at you. In all honesty, you try not to ask too many questions about your boyfriend's research of supernatural creatures. He swears to you it's all ethical but you're not sure how well it sits with you. You've been to the lab once and the asylum-like observational rooms you saw were offputting. Stark white walls and a small bed in an otherwise empty room doesn't seem very morally sound to you despite what Bruce tells you. Granted the observational cells were empty when you visited so you can only hope nobody's been in there against their will.

"Y/n!" Bruce pulls you from your thoughts and your head snaps to his confused face.

"Sorry, I- spaced, did you say something?" You ask.

"I said I was thinking we'd order something for dinner, does that sound okay?" Bruce chuckles.  You want so badly to trust that his work is virtuous because that's what he tells you.

"Yeah that's fine with me. Did you want Chinese or Thai or there's that Italian place too, maybe pizza?" You list off some options, shaking the uncertainty from your mind. They say ignorance is bliss.

"Do you have a preference?" He asks.

"Let's do Chinese."

"Sounds good. I'll finish grading these assignments and then order in a couple hours." Bruce says.

"Yeah that's fine." You nod giving Bruce a quick kiss and leaving him to his papers. With the few hours you have to spare until dinner, you crack open your latest read, a book recommended to you by a coworker that you've been meaning to start for a while. Eventually, Bruce orders dinner and gets your attention once the food arrives. Your night is pretty relaxed, you eat and chat while watching TV together for a while before you turn in for the night. You and Bruce do have different rooms because it's important to have your own space, but most nights you sleep together in his room. You'd consider your life pretty ordinary. You have routines and habits and while you have lots of fun experiences, you'd say most of your life is very much average.

~*~*~

The tinkling of the bell over the door doesn't pull your attention from the magazine you're reading but you do greet the customer since you're at the register by the door.

"Hi welcome in!" You say with mild cheeriness.

"Hiiii y/n!" The sing-song greeting comes from your best friend and you look up when you realize.

"Wanda! Hey love." You smile at her.

"Hi! Hi Peter!" She waves at Peter, who's learning how to work the coffee bar today.

"Oh. Hi miss Wanda!" He says with a shy wave.

"I've told you sweetie you don't have to call me miss." Wanda chuckles.

"Sorry." He mutters.

"What a cutie." Wanda hums.

"Isn't he?" You agree quietly. "Anyway, what brings you here babes?" You ask.

"Is your shift almost over? I wanted to hang out today."

"Well I'm supposed to be out of here in the next half hour or so but of course, I've gotta wait for Matt or Layla to come in before I can actually leave." You shrug.

"Peter! How good are you at that coffee bar?" Wanda calls across the store.

"Uh- I- I'm alright I think." Peter says.

"Wanna try making me a vanilla latte?" She asks.

"Well I- I can try."

"Confidence honey, you've got the recipes, you can do this. Don't act like the coffee bar's gonna bite ya!" You tell him.

"Right! Confidence. Vanilla latte coming up." Peter nods grabbing items to make Wanda's drink.

"And if you have any questions I'm right here!" You call.

"I'll wait for your shift to end and then can we do something together?" Wanda asks you.

"Of course we can." You nod.

"Done!" Peter says after a few minutes. Wanda takes the coffee from Peter and drops a five on the counter for him before sitting at a table with her drink and a magazine.

"This is pretty good for how unsure you were Peter." Wanda tells him.

"Good job Petey! I told you, you got it." You smile at him and again he hits you both with a shy smile.

"Thanks." He says quietly. A few customers come in and leave before Eric arrives and you clock out, leaving arm in arm with Wanda. She seems to have a destination in mind as you walk together.

"So where are we going lovely?" You ask her after a few minutes of her dragging you down city streets.

"Well I have a date tonight and I need something to wear, so the mall." She tells you.

"A date? You have a date? Why didn't you mention this before now?!" You blink at her.

"Honestly I forgot about it until I realized it was tonight." She shrugs.

"You forgot about it? Are you even interested in this person?" You laugh incredulously.

"I am! He's very sweet, I just have been busy with other things this week."

"Alright well let's get you something to wear for this second thought date." You snort.

"It wasn't a second thought. It's just that I can only prioritize like three things at a time."

"Seriously? You can lift a plane with your mind but can't remember your date until the day of?" You scoff. Wanda's a witch. It's the only real secret you keep from Bruce. She's not totally comfortable with him knowing that information and since it's her life you have no problem supporting that decision. To tell the truth, she's not very comfortable with him in general because of the whole research thing but he makes you happy so she gets along well enough for your sake.

"I didn't forget forget I was just, you know, too busy to think about it."

"Yeah sure whatever." You laugh as she pulls you into a store near the mall's entrance. "So how do you know this date of yours? Friend of a friend? Someone from work? A dating app? One of Pietro's friends?"

"He's a friend of a coworker." She tells you.

"A friend of a coworker? Is this a blind date?"

"No. He came to a work function and I had a nice enough time talking to him there that when he asked me on a date I said yes."

"It sounds like your coworker was setting you up and just played the long game." You chuckle.

"Hang on I'd like to circle back to your suggestion that it would be one of Pietro's friends. Why would I ever do that?!" She looks at you over a clothing rack.

"Oh come on Pietro's adorable." You laugh.

"This is about his friends, not him."

"Yeah I know but I'm of the belief that hot people hang with hot people so naturally-"

"Yeah that's not. No."

"Why? Is it the fact that the halfling has mostly vampire friends? I know you have ethical reservations about the whole blood sucking thing despite being raised by a vampire." You ask as the two of you leave the store you're in. Wanda and Pietro are twins but apparently since their father is a vampire and their mother is a witch one twin got each supernatural gene, making Pietro a vampire halfling.

"Most of Pietro's friends hunt animals so no it's not that." She rolls her eyes.

"Wait they hunt animals?" You blink.

"Yeah? So does Pietro, you know that."

"I know he does but I guess I didn't think about his friends- I think one of them might be volunteering for Bruce."

"What?" Wanda's eyes widen.

"A couple of weeks ago Bruce told me a vampire was going to the lab and they were going to study him because he's animal fed and well, considering we live in New York and not Idaho I can't imagine there's a large population of animal diet vampires." You explain.

"What if he finds out about Pietro? About me?" Wanda gasps as the two of you enter another store.

"He won't. Even if this guy knows Pietro why would he put another person on Bruce's watchlist that didn't ask to be there? His loyalty should be to other vampires not to a bunch of researchers." You say quietly. The shop you're in is empty besides the employees and while supernatural creatures aren't a secret, some people are more reserved when it comes to them.

"Some of them don't accept Pietro because of our parentage. He could rat him out on purpose for-"

"Bruce isn't going to go hunting people down, I've mentioned Pietro like once so he might not even know you're related, it's not like Pietro would rat on you, and if Bruce does find out that you're twins well, you aren't a vampire. I'll simply tell him that twins of a vampire and a nonvampire split the gene, and only one gets it. Plus it's been a couple of weeks since this happened, if the vampire had mentioned Pietro or Bruce had any suspicions about you, he'd have given himself away by now. He's not going to find out you're a witch. He's not going to find out Pietro is a halfling. Your secrets are safe."

"Man I hope so." She sighs.

"Yeah well I know so." You tell her.  The two of you flip through racks of clothes for a while, pulling different items for Wanda to try on in the dressing room. "So where are you going with this guy?" You ask her when you finally reach the dressing rooms at the back.

"Dinner! Maybe something else after but we're starting with dinner." Wanda says through the door as she tries on the first dress she picked.

"Hm, what's his name?"

"Wes."

"Wes? Is it short for Wesley or- is that the whole name?"

"It's short for Wesley." She pushes back the dressing room curtain to show you the dress. "What do you think?"

"That's cute. Although maybe not right for a first date." You say. It's a short dark blue dress with lace trimming and as much as you like it, it's not a dinner date outfit.

"Yeah- maybe you're right." She looks at herself in the mirror for a moment and then closes the curtain.

"Hm, Wesley? That's not the worst name in the world." You hum.

"Y/n!" Wanda laughs.

"Look! I'm not trying to be mean, but you know, some names just don't... roll off the tongue the right way ya know." You shrug even though she can't see you.

"Now why would you say that?" She tries to scold you but you can hear her hiding her laughter before she shoves back the curtain again. "This one?" She asks. This dress is a green off-the-shoulder pick with bell sleeves.

"I think it's the wrong shade of green for you honestly." You tell her.

"Ya think so?" She hums and closes the curtain again.

"Anyway, I said it because it's true. Like I'm not saying you're going to fuck this guy or anything but imagine trying to moan a name like Bartholomew or Yolanda. Ya know? Wes or even Wesley you could probably get away with though."

"Don't be crude! I don't think anyone born in the last century is named Bartholomew but- I guess I get your point." Wanda chuckles.

"Also it's cute that your names are alliterative. Wanda and Wesley. You'll have to come up with some cute introduction when you meet people as a couple."

"It is one date. You are for sure skipping ahead." Wanda pulls back the curtain in a new dress, pointing an accusing finger at you. This one is a two-toned red and black dress.

"I mean if you think about it now you're ready for if the time comes." You shrug.

"You and your ability to romanticize things." She shakes her head. "Thoughts on this one?"

"Life is better when you romanticize things. Honestly, I think this is your dress. You should get this one. It's gorgeous on you. If he's not speechless when he sees you, leave." You tell her.

"That's dramatic." She laughs.

"It's in my nature." You shrug.

"It is a nice dress though. Should I bother trying the others?" She asks as she closes the curtain again to change back into her clothes.

"I mean if you want to but I'm pretty much sold on this one." You say.

"Excuse me." You hear a voice behind you that causes you to spin around. A sales associate for the store you're in is smiling at you when you do.

"Hi! Can I help you?" You ask.

"This is for you." She says holding out a shopping bag with the store's logo on it. Your hands fly up as if you're surrendering.

"I- didn't purchase anything so that cannot be right." You shake your head.

"Actually the items were purchased for you by someone. It's a gift."

"A gift from whom?" You frown in confusion.

"They've asked to remain anonymous."

"That- sounds increasingly suspicious. Um can you, hold the bag open for me?" You ask her.

"Excuse me?" Now she's confused.

"I am not touching that bag if I don't know what's inside it. So, if you could just open it so I can look inside?" You explain. "Wanda! You almost done in there?" You call as the associate opens the bag. Wanda rushes out of the dressing room when she hears your voice.

"Everything okay?" She asks you.

"Somebody has anonymously gifted me some items apparently." You share a look at her before looking into the bag to find a dress, a jacket, and a jewelry set each that you'd commented on while shopping with Wanda. You spin around to face Wanda almost too fast. "Holy shit it's all stuff I said I liked while we were shopping." You speak quickly and quietly to her.

"What?"

"It's the dress and the jacket that I put down right before we came to the dressing room." You hiss.

"Woah." Wanda blinks. You turn back to the associate.

"Did they pay with a card? Can you refund this person somehow? I can't just take this gift from a stranger." You tell her.

"All of the items they bought are final sale so unfortunately, a refund would not be possible, plus they paid in cash."

"So- there's really nothing I can do but take this?"

"I mean if you don't take it I'll simply sell them again. It'd be unfortunate for the purchaser." The associate tells you. You look at Wanda again.

"This is like a $200 purchase what the fuck?" You whisper to Wanda.

"Then I guess you should take it." Wanda whispers back. You mull it over in your head for a moment before turning back to face the associate.

"Alright fine. Thank you." You take the bag from the associate with a small smile. "If the, anonymous gifter returns please inform them that I appreciate the gesture but not to do it again because this is very weird." You tell her.

"I will pass on the message." She nods and walks away.

"I cannot believe you've got a secret admirer." Wanda loops her arm through yours and pulls you towards the counter with her chosen dress in hand.

"This is absolutely ridiculous. What do I tell Bruce?" You frown.

"The truth. That a stranger bought them and you have no idea who it is." She shrugs. The two of you check out and leave the store and subsequently the mall, Wanda deciding she has enough shoes to choose from at home. "Do you have any idea who it might be?"

"No. I only talk to like 5 people and none of them are spending $200 on items I only mentioned liking while we were just shopping."

"Even Bruce?"

"If Bruce did it, he wouldn't keep it a secret. So I know it's not him." You tell her.

"Well, you'll have to tell me how he reacts. I'm going to head home so I can prep for this date. I'll call you later." Wanda says hugging you tightly.

"Have fun babes." You kiss her cheek and then part ways, heading back to your apartment. When you unlock the door and kick off your shoes, the smell of food welcomes you so you head to the kitchen.

"Hi Bruce!" You say wrapping your arm around him from behind.

"Hi babe, welcome home. Work a longer shift at work or something?" Bruce asks.

"No Wanda came to my job and we went shopping once I got off. She's got a date tonight!" You tell him and Bruce turns enough to see the shopping bag sitting on the counter.

"I see you got some things too. What's in the bag?" Bruce asks.

"A dress, a jacket, and some jewelry."

"Impromptu mini shopping spree?" Bruce chuckles.

"Well I didn't buy any of that stuff actually." You shrug. Bruce frowns at you for a moment before turning back to whatever he's cooking. A past dish from the looks of it.

"Honey I know we don't really keep secrets from each other but if you're going to commit a crime-"

"I didn't steal them. Why is your first thought that I stole?" You chuckle.

"You said you didn't buy them."

"Yeah I didn't. They were gifted to me while I was shopping."

"What?"

"Someone bought these things and had a sales associate bring them to me."

"Who?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know? You didn't ask any questions?"

"I asked like a dozen questions, including if she could refund whoever it was that did this and she said no. She also told me whoever it was asked to remain anonymous, what was I supposed to do? Force the information out of her? She probably doesn't know who it is either."

"What if he was watching you? You accepted the gift he might think he has an in with you."

"How do you know that this person has any intention of doing that?"

"Can you think of any other reason that they'd spend hundreds on stuff for you? This is basically a secret admirer stunt y/n."

"Look I told the sales lady to let whoever it was know that this was incredibly inappropriate but it's too late to do anything else. Even if they're stalking me I have no idea who they are so, what do you want from me here?" You cross your arms.

"I don't mean to snap at you I'm just worried about your safety." Bruce pulls you to his chest.

"Yeah, I get that, but it sounds like you're blaming me for receiving an anonymous gift." You mutter.

"I'm not trying to blame you I promise. This is just weird and it concerns me."

"Honestly as weird as this situation is I dunno I just don't hear the alarm bells I usually notice before something goes wrong. Of course it's only one incident, things could escalate."

"Well, even if you don't feel alarmed by this, be careful anyway." Bruce kisses the top of your head.

"Always." You wink at him. The rest of your evening is quiet, you discuss work over dinner and watch TV before eventually getting ready for bed.

~*~*~

You hum along to the music playing in the store as you restock some items by the register, it's pretty slow around this time in the afternoon usually so you've got Peter in the back learning inventory stuff.

"Hi welcome in!" You call over your shoulder instinctively when the bell by the door goes off.

"Hey, excuse me." You turn around at the voice to see two men looking at you, one Black and one white.

"Hi! Is there something I can help you with?" You smile.

"Actually we're looking for someone. An employee, Peter Parker. Is he here?" The Black man asks you.

"Mind telling me what this is about?" You ask keeping a polite smile on your face although their question concerns you.

"Excuse me?" He blinks at you.

"Well Peter's a kid so I hope you can understand my reservations in disclosing information about him to men who haven't identified themselves or their relationship to him, and seemingly don't know his schedule which to me means he does not want you popping up at his place of employment unexpectedly." You cross your arms and the one who hasn't spoken quirks an eyebrow at you.

"Look is the kid here or not?"

"I'm not authorized to give out information you don't already have about anyone who may or may not work here." You tell them.

"This is ridiculous- Parker! It's Wilson and Barton come up here." The Black man calls loudly. You spin around and intercept Peter when you hear his footfalls behind you.

"Peter do you know these men?" You ask quietly. He looks over your shoulder.

"Yeah they're friends. I'm sorry if they're causing you trouble." Peter tells you nervously.

"They aren't causing me trouble but they're looking for you and I wanna make sure you aren't in any danger."

"No. No danger. It's alright, they're alright. Is it cool if I step out with them for a moment?"

"It's empty so fine but you probably shouldn't do this often."

"I swear this won't happen again."

"Go, make it quick." You wave towards the door and he leads the two men out of the store.

"She seems protective of you." Clint points out.

"She's real nice, it's kinda like having an older sister at work but that's besides the point you guys cannot just show up here while I'm working!" Peter tells them.

"That's cute, and relax you're just a cover, we were told to check on her." Sam says.

"She's wearing the jacket." Clint mutters.

"She's wearing the jacket! Did she mention anything to you Parker?" Sam looks from you to Peter.

"About her jacket? No? Why should she?" Peter frowns.

"No reason. The fact that she's wearing it bodes well for them I think." Sam says.

"Bodes well for who? Wait did they buy her that jacket?! She's been in a relationship for like three years!"

"Relax kid leave this to the adults." Sam nudges him.

"They can't just poach someone's girlfriend."

"No one's poaching anyone don't worry about it, Peter. Oh, but they do wanna see you after you get off so- head to the offices when your shift is over." Clint claps Peter on the back and then he and Sam leave.

"Sorry about that." Peter says as he rushes back in.

"Everything alright?" You ask.

"Yeah! Totally fine, I'm gonna go finish learning inventory."

"Holler if you need anything." You hum. You know it's not really any of your business but you do hope Peter was telling the truth and those guys weren't here to hassle him.

***

Part 1/???

Tagged Users: @cjand10

[cowplant-pizza]

Hi boe!! Can I request a black cob, male, named Bruce? 🫣🩷 tysm in advanced

cowplant-pizza adoptions: bruce

known lovingly as "brucey" at our shelter, bruce is a working horse who was surrendered to us after a farming related injury has made him unable to carry out the work on the farm. although he cannot do his work anymore, brucey still has a wonderful long life ahead of him with the right owner!

bruce is brave, friendly and a free spirit

adopt here: simfileshare