#mask is doing homework

[harmonysixx]

I don't really know what they're saying, just imagine something so nasty even the pirate is surprised af to hear an 11 year old talk like that

Based on @nell0-0's headcanon of Tatl teaching Time/Mask how to swear!

[reality-detective]

How easily YOU people can be tricked 🤔

[ambriel-angstwitch]

Connor: Girlboss... Gatekeep... what's the one I'm missing?

Romeo: There isn't one

Connor: But I thought there was

Romeo: No you made it up

[snac-e]

Ben Drowned with EJ mask. I’m sure it looks cute on him. 🥺

it does look cute on him

but ummm ej...

[threeeyedharemp3]

parents will really be like i cant believe you want to do something you enjoy that i dont personally approve of

[innerchildfixerupper]

attempting ourple hair hoping this makes me feel good and sexy and alive and fun

[caprigender]

Im looking up concertina prices again

because that’s something I can definitely learn to do with all of this free time I’m just swimming in

[aropride]

i dont think this is a today to-do item bc i have so much shit to get done but soon i have to do surgery on my tfb shirt so i can wear it again without it being too see through

[tortoise-teapot]

can someone come hold my hand i need to finish the second half of tevinter nights

[reality-detective]

A former CIA chief of disguise has revealed that the agency has used Hollywood style mask technology, like the kind seen in Mission: Impossible, in real operations.

According to her, the first mask she ever wore transformed her into an African American man, and the disguises were advanced enough to alter gender, ethnicity, and even create a convincing twin.

The masks were so lifelike that unless you broke into hysterical laughter, no one would suspect a thing.

“You could put it on in a parking garage—without even using a mirror,” she said.

I'm exposing the "Deep State" and all of the pedophiles.

Saving the children is my mission. 🤔

[naenaex0xx]

CURSE BE UPON YE!!!!!!

ASK GAME!!!!!

Firstly, when you get this, you have to answer with 5 things you like about yourself. Publicly! Then send this ask to 10 of your favourite followers!

(I was informed that this is non negotiable because it's important to be positive and nice to yourself)

sorry for the chainmail ask lol it's the Curse tm

Ohno I am being Cursed™ ... ngl my brain avoided this for a while but I'm gonna answer now !!!!

5 things I like about myself ...

1. I'm just a silly lil fella

Sorry I'll take this seriously now lol

1. I like my musical skills... and I know, hey you just like music and YEAH I LOVE MUSIC but music is completely passionate and people put so much effort and emotion into it... so I'm proud and I like the fact that I can manage to do some part of that stuff. yknow :3

2. I'm just a chill guy <- what I mean by that is like.. silly vibes idk!!

3. I like my name. Maybe this is biased bc I've had this name/nickname forever but. nae nae? yayay !!! id wanna be nae-nae forever ^^

4. my handwriting??? I don't write much anymore but I've been told my handwriting is nice. And I like my handwriting!! It's been through many fancy phases (that looked terrible 😭) but very pretty. looks better on lined paper, but still pretty :>

5. time doesn't exist in my brain. and by that I mean I can be patient I think. I think so maybe mayhaps I may or may not be a patient person when it comes to people I like. I'll wait for u on the third day when the moon comes crashing into the town mhm yupyup see you there

thanks for sending me this val! gonna send The Curse™ right back to ya mehehe >:3

whatthehell how is it almost 12am HOW LONG DID IT TAKE TO ANSWER THIS-

[minminambus]

If I… can’t trust someone to wear a mask near me when they’re sick— how can I trust them to wear it when I’m not around, when they’re near other people?!

[bywons]

LET ME BE YOUR HERO ★ spiderman!enha

𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬────𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖬𝖩

❪ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝒾𝐒 ❫ ｡ 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 1400wc 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗎 ──𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 贅沢 ／ 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐄

★REBLOGPLEASE

LEE HEESEUNG

“hey baby,” heeseung’s voice startles you, causing you to almost fall out of your study desk. you whip your head towards the balcony, to see your boyfriend hanging upside down by his spiderwebs.

“what are you doing here?” you hiss, striding towards the balcony. you pull his spider mask down, revealing his charming face which always gave you butterflies. “god forbid a man wants to visit his girl,” he grins lazily, winking at you when he knows this is an ungodly hour to visit you.

his cover could be blown. “my parents are literally in the next room, hee. can you please get out—” “just a kiss,” heeseung pleads, tilting his head with that mischievous smile of his, still dangling upside down like it’s the most casual thing in the world, “just a kiss and i’ll go.”

and you eventually give in, rolling your eyes as you cup his face and lean in for a kiss. heeseung smiles into the kiss, his lips soft and tender against yours, moving in sync as your teeth graze against his top lip. his breath hitches, falling to the threshold of the balcony with a thud.

“are you okay? you’re gonna wake up my parents,” you whimper, looking down at him. but heeseung only chuckles, looking up at you, “sorry, babe. i get nervous around you.”

PARK JONGSEONG

you became famous overnight all around your college when your face hit the news headline— “college girl saved from local monsters by the city's superhero, spiderman.”

“so, how was the experience?” you get startled by the sudden voice beside you, almost dropping the books in your hand. shutting your locker close, you meet the eyes of park jongseong aka jay— leaning against his own locker, wearing one of those oversized hoodies with a cocky grin.

“nothing special,” you shrug, leaning against your locker too as you scoff, “not big of a fan.” “really?” jay scoffs, inching closer until he towers above you easily. his dark hair locks fall gently over his forehead, making your mouth gape.

“you say spiderman is not all that,” he angles his head sideways, cupping your face between his hands— leaning in just enough for his hot breath to fan over your face, “then why were you so clingy to him last night? you sure didn't want to let go, doll.”

you could feel blood rush up to your face, making it flush before jay. you chuckle, whispering, “but how did you know that?” just like that, jay realises he messed up, his spider-suit peeking under his hoodie.

SIM JAEYUN

“—and the correct option is c,” jake pushes his thick rimmed glasses up his nose bridge, “did you get it?”

“yeah, i got it,” you sigh, your attention nowhere but your boyfriend, who’s neck is still damp from swinging around the city, saving people.

“does spiderman help other girls with their homework too?” you sigh, cocking your head to one side. “no?” jake is caught off guard, his eyes widened as he pulls you on his lap, “only you, i promise.”

before you can stop yourself, you grab the collar of his hoodie and pull him in. jakes eyes widen behind his glasses, but he soon eases into the kiss, one hand cups your cheeks as he leans into you. your stomach flips as he giggles into the kiss, caressing your cheeks.

you back just a little, your forehead pressed to his. “does he kiss other girls too?”

jake laughs, his glasses fogged, “only if she’s you.”

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon quickly pulls you into the janitors closet, banging it shut as he pushes you against the wall. “shut up,” he pleads, all sweaty and out of breathe in his spider-suit, “please just everybody can hear you—”

“i wasn’t even going to say anything,” you lie, gripping onto his biceps as they brace next to your head, bodies too close to each other in the cramped place, “why did you think revealing yourself as spiderman to me was okay?”

sunghoon sighs, he knew that changing into civilian clothes right before college was risky. and of course, out of all people, you happened to see him in the hallways. “just—promise me,” he huffs, leaning in to see your face better in the dark, “you won’t tell anyone, alright?”

“and why do you think i wouldn’t?” you smirk, eyes glinting with mischief as they meet sunghoon’s confused ones.

“seriously?” he hisses, his patience running thin as he grits his teeth, “y/n you better—” “park sunghoon is spi—!”

he doesn’t let you finish the sentence, he leans forward and slams his lips on yours, pulling you into a hurried, angry yet a soft and delicate kiss. he cradles your head with his hand, the other sliding down to your waist. “shut up,” he breathes as he pulls away, chuckling at your flushed face which he loves.

KIM SUNOO

as you’re about to circle around the block towards the alleys to reach your apartment, a fwip sound interrupts you— and suddenly you’re being held up in the air by your waist.

“what the— sunoo?” you almost scream as sunoo only laughs, swinging you onto a building’s rooftop like it’s nothing.

“you almost screamed,” sunoo laughs, pulling up his mask just up to his nose, “you’re so cute.”

“you almost gave me a heart attack,” you complain, smacking his arm playfully as he laughs. “i missed you,” he says, slowly pulling you closer on the rooftop, slow and cool wind caressing you both, “it’s so hard to not see you all the time.”

you giggle in his arms, and sunoo pushes a strand of your hair behind your ears, “can i kiss you?”

“you don’t have to ask,” you finally give him his much needed permission, and sunoo leans in for a kiss amidst the busy night life he secretly watches over.

YANG JUNGWON

you quickly shut the door to your room behind you, facing your boyfriend who’s busy changing into civilian clothes.

“look away!” jungwon blushes as his eyes meet yours. he’s halfway through a plain white shirt, his abdomen exposed.

“what did i tell you about barging into my family gatherings?” you almost shout, slapping jungwon's forearm. “ouch,” jungwon whispers, “but did you see your messages? you told me to save you—”

“not when i said my whole family is here!” you sigh, plopping down flat on your bed and jungwon quickly wears his shirt. before you can say anything, jungwon hovers above you, pressing soft pecks on your lips and neck.

“i need to make sure you're alright,” he smiles in the most gentle way which makes your heart melt, and pull him closer by his collar. “i love you,” he whispers against your lips, kissing it slow.

“i love you more,” you chuckle. “no, i do!” he protests, pulling back to see your face. “no jungwon, you know that i love you more—”

“is somebody there?” a familiar voice floats in from outside your door, probably a relative. “i saw someone in there.” jungwon's face cringes as he looks at your furious one.

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki winces as you press a feathery kiss just above the bruise blooming on his cheek. “does it hurt?” you ask.

“not when you're kissing them,” riki teases, pulling you closer on his lap as he wraps his arms around you, “i want you to kiss all my bruises—”

“i told you not to mess with them,” you complain, an irritated pout forming on your face as you caress riki’s cheek. “you’re spiderman, not a fighter, they are stronger than you.”

“you hurt me more, doll,” riki leans into your touch, smirking as he mumbles, “i still took all of them down though.”

“that's not the point riki,” you sigh, retracting your hand from his cheek, at which he winces again, “i don't want you to get hurt all the time.” riki sighs into your palm, using both of them to cup his own face, “you’re so hot when you’re angry,” he snorts, biting his lip.

“can you please stop—” riki doesn't waste a second listening to your lectures as he pulls you in by your wrist, lips clashing into a heated kiss, which slows down eventually. you pull back first, an unsure and strict expression on your face.

“if it means getting hurt everyday because of you,” riki kisses your wrist, “then so be it.”

스루 ܃ for @flwrstqr ! love ya so much, mwah 💌

© bywons, 2025 div ctto —taglist open ! nets. @/k-labels @kflixnet @k-films

[wariomolly]

im so much “more” autistic in my dreams.. but really i think my brain is showing me what it would be like if i could fully and truly unmask :(

like last night i had a dream where i actually had support and leeway in school ???????? astonishing. an iep and an aide dedicated to making sure i get from class to class???? for me ? ??????? the “”gifted”” kid who mysteriously lost all my gifts and talents in high school??? damnb

[jellyfishsthings]

I have a grandchild?

navigation , dc navigation

WARNINGS: none really, just funny banter

requests are open

dividers by @cafekitsune

Jason Todd liked to think he wore many masks.

The city knew him as Red Hood. To his brothers, he was the snarky, trigger-happy one. To Bruce, a question mark with a temper. But every Tuesday and Thursday, in a tidy, sun-filled classroom, he was something else entirely:

Mr. Jay.

He taught third grade English Lit. Paperbacks. Book fairs. Glitter-covered essays. Small chairs. Lots of stickers.

And somehow? He loved it.

Jason never expected to find peace in a room full of tiny, chaotic humans, but here he was—"Mister Jay" to twenty-four third-graders at Gotham Academy’s lower school, reading Charlotte’s Web with more expression than he thought humanly possible.

He wore cardigans now. He drank peppermint tea. He even had a bulletin board labeled "Our Word Wall."

And he hadn’t told a soul in his family

Not because he was ashamed—he actually liked it. He liked the simplicity, the structure, the way little Brian Jennings waved at him with both hands every morning and offered him a friendship bracelet made of rainbow rubber bands. He liked the chaos he could understand for once.

“Okay, who can tell me what the monster in Where the Wild Things Are really represents?”

Rory’s hand shot up first—Rory with wild curls, a constant sprinkle of glitter on her cheeks, and a reading level two grades above her age.

Jason grinned. “Hit me, Rory.”

“His FEELINGS. Because Max was MAD and monsters are mad feelings!”

“You nailed it.” Jason gave her a fist bump. “A plus level insight. Someone write that down.”

Rory beamed like she’d just won an Oscar.

It started during the fall parent-teacher conference, when you arrived ten minutes late, breathless and apologetic, your daughter’s glitter-covered backpack slung over your shoulder.

Jason took one look at you—coffee-stained shirt, wild bun, tired eyes and soft voice—and immediately short-circuited.

“Sorry—my car wouldn’t start, and then I had to stop Rory from feeding goldfish crackers to a raccoon.”

Jason blinked. Smiled. “Sounds like a Tuesday.”

“Sorry again,” you huffed, taking a seat. “I’ve had a long day.”

He blinked. ���No problem. Uh, Rory’s doing great.”

You sighed in relief. “She talks about you all the time. Mr. Jay says this, Mr. Jay says that. I was starting to think she liked you more than me.”

Jason laughed—and it was a real one, the kind that crept into his ribs and stayed. “Don’t worry, she just likes that I let them write haikus about dragons.”

“Haikus?”

“Very serious educational practice.”

You smiled. Something clicked into place.

It started slow. A cup of coffee after conferences. A chat outside after school pickup. Then, one Saturday, he ran into you and Rory at the Gotham public library. Rory sprinted into his legs, squealing “MISTER JAY!!!” loud enough to startle nearby birds.

That day ended with the three of you at a bakery. Rory passed out with a cookie in her hand. You gave him a look—surprised, amused, softened—and said, “She’s never warmed up to someone like this.”

Jason didn’t say anything. Just wrapped Rory’s scarf tighter and said, “She’s a good kid.”

What he meant was: I’d do anything to keep her happy.

Jason fell hard. Harder than he’d fallen in years. He kept it quiet at first, didn’t want to spook you with his baggage, didn’t want Bruce to send a drone overhead and “investigate” why his second-oldest son was skipping crime fighting for PTA meetings.

He just wanted this one thing for himself.

And somehow, it worked.

You dated quietly. Rory loved him instantly. He helped her with spelling words and listened to her detailed theories about dragons living in Gotham’s sewer systems. He fixed your heater when it broke and always remembered your favorite snacks.

By the time spring rolled around, he was yours, completely.

Jason was...gone. Just absolutely a goner. He’d found a rhythm in the chaos—dinner with you, homework with Rory, bedtime stories, and night patrol. It was weird and messy and full of glitter.

And it was home.

He was there when Rory lost her first tooth. When she scraped her knee on the playground and insisted only Mister Jay could clean it. When she had a nightmare and called him, not you, because "Daddy Jay fights monsters."

He didn’t correct her. Not once.

You saw it—how she clung to him, how he always bent to her level, how she crawled into his lap like it was the safest place on earth.

You asked him once, “You sure you’re okay with this?”

Jason kissed your forehead. “She’s my kid, too. Blood or not.”

So when you had an emergency work trip and your usual babysitter canceled, you didn’t even hesitate.

“You sure you don’t mind watching her overnight?” you asked, handing him a list of instructions and emergency contacts longer than a novel.

“Go save the world, I have this covered.” 

You kissed his cheek, hugged Rory tight, and left.

“Alright,” Jason turned to her. “Movie or fort?”

Rory’s eyes sparkled. “BOTH.”

Jason kissed your cheek. “She’s my favorite kid. We’re going to build a pillow fort and eat suspicious amounts of mac and cheese. Go save the day.”

What neither of you accounted for... was Bruce Wayne.

Two hours later, the living room was a pillow apocalypse. Jason wore a glitter crown and had his nails painted purple. Rory was asleep, snuggled in his hoodie, soft snores muffled under a blanket castle.

It started at 6:37 p.m., when Bruce—who was supposed to be on a League mission—showed up at Jason’s apartment.

The door creaked open.

Jason glanced up.

And froze.

Bruce Wayne stood in the doorway.

“I need to talk to you about the armory in Blüdhaven,” Bruce said, standing in the doorway like the world’s most dramatic bat.

“Uh.” Jason didn’t move. “Hey.”

Bruce’s eyes flicked to the bright pink tiara sitting crookedly on his hair. The glitter smearing his cheeks. The empty sippy cup peeking out of his pocket.

Jason, his Jason, was wearing a pink apron that said “Kiss the Cook” and holding a bowl of glitter slime, staring at him dumbfounded. “Now?”

Then Rory ran into the room with a towel-cape tied around her shoulders. “JAY. THE UNICORN IS UNDER ATTACK.”

She froze when she saw Bruce.

Bruce froze when he saw her.

There was a long, loaded silence.

Jason opened his mouth.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “...Is there something you want to tell me?”

Rory looked up at Jason and whispered, “Is that Batman?”

Jason sighed. “Yeah, that’s Batman.”

“COOL,” she whispered loudly.

“She looks like you,” Bruce said.

“WHAT?!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you WHAT?!”

“That you have a child.”

“She’s not—! I mean—! I’m babysitting!”

Bruce narrowed his eyes.

“I’m serious! She’s not mine!”

A pause. Then a tiny voice mumbled, “Daddy Jay?”

Jason died.

Bruce looked like he had transcended.

“She calls you—”

“She’s SIX and I READ TO HER. It’s a TITLE OF AFFECTION, not a PATERNITY CLAIM!”

“She has your nose.”

Jason screamed, his arms wildly flailing. “She has a BUTTON NOSE!”

Bruce just stated “I expect pictures at Christmas.”

Rory interrupted cheerfully, “He’s dating my mom!”

Bruce looked like he aged ten years in one second.

“...You’re dating a civilian... with a child… and didn’t tell me?”

“She’s not mine!” Jason repeated, clutching the slime bowl like a lifeline. “I’m just babysitting!”

Rory handed Bruce a plastic tiara. “Do you want to be the princess or the dragon?”

Bruce stared at it. Then at Jason.

Jason shrugged helplessly.

Bruce sighed. “Dragon.”

When you came back the next morning, you were greeted by a sight you would never forget:

Jason, asleep on the couch, Rory curled up beside him like a cat. The apartment was a war zone of glitter, tiaras, and cookie crumbs.

And Bruce Wayne, sitting in a tiny plastic chair at Rory’s tea table, wearing a paper crown and reading a bedtime story.

He looked up at you. “She made me tea.”

You blinked. “Is it real tea?”

“No. It’s glue and glitter water.”

“Ah.”

“She named me Sparkle Dragon.”

You smiled. “Fitting. What happened?”

“Your kid called me Daddy Jay. In front of Bruce.”

You blinked. “Okay. And?”

“He thinks she’s my biological daughter.”

“... Did you correct him?”

Jason stared at you. “She said I have her nose. Bruce believed her.”

You covered your mouth to hide your laugh. “Well... she has told people you’re her ‘real’ dad since February.”

Jason groaned into his hands.

You kissed the top of his head. “It’s okay. Honestly... I don’t mind. You are kind of her dad.”

Jason looked up.

You met his eyes. “You show up. You care. You paint her nails and make dragon haikus and fight the blender when she wants smoothies. That’s more than biology.”

Jason’s chest tightened. Then softened.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You smiled. “Love you more”

Jason opened one eye. “Tell me you brought coffee.”

You laughed. “Only if you tell me why Batman is babysitting my child.”

Jason sighed into the pillow. “Long story.”

Bruce stood. “She’s a good kid.”

“She’s a menace,” Jason mumbled fondly.

Rory woke up and shouted, “GLITTER PANCAKES?”

[viktateapot]

SLEEP

DAMIAN WAYNE X READER

Summary: You're staying up late doing homework in your bed when the window opens. Damian walks in, or technically Robin, because he's wearing his costume.

He snorts but doesn't say anything and plops down on your bed. He watches you silently, when you're about to speak, he raises his hand.

"Shh," Damian soothes. He takes off his mask and rubs his eyes. The two of you continue to sit in silence. This isn't the first time he's come to your room just to sit after patrolling, and then moved on to the Wayne Mansion.

He sits in silence, staring out the window. The night is quiet, almost peaceful. It's a stark contrast to the chaos he usually finds himself in. He slightly unzips his suit, revealing his neck and part of his collarbone. He leans back on your bed, getting comfortable.

"How was your patrol in Gotham today, my dear?"

"Mmm, it was long," he murmurs in a slightly strained voice. He tilts his head to the side, stretching his neck. "Too many idiots trying to prove something." He pauses, shrugging his shoulders. "And too many smart people trying to avoid me."

He notices your lack of reaction and looks at you. "What? No witty remarks or concern for your well-being?" He teases lightly, and the corners of his mouth lift in a slight smirk. He reaches out and pokes you in the side. "It hurts."

You shift the laptop on your lap to one knee and gently pat the other. "Lie down."

Without hesitation, he changes his position and lies back, resting his head on your knee. He closes his eyes, feeling the gentle touch of your hand as you stroke his chest. This simple gesture has a calming effect, and he finds himself relaxing more than he has all night. "Thank you," he whispers.

"Go to sleep, now... I need to get back to work."

Damien doesn't argue, instead allowing his exhaustion to finally take over. As he falls asleep, he rests his head on your lap, and his breathing evens out. His hand rests lightly on your knee, and his fingers twitch occasionally as he dreams.

As you continue your homework, Damian remains still and peaceful. After a while, he shifts slightly, his hand moving from your knee to rest gently on your thigh. His grip is light, almost subconscious. He lets out a soft sigh, clearly deep in sleep.

He shifts again, this time moving closer to your warmth. Even in sleep, he seeks comfort and closeness. One of his arms wraps loosely around your waist as he adjusts his position. His face turns slightly towards you, his dark hair falling across your forehead.

"What, my golden one?" you asked, gently brushing his hair back from his face.

"Mmm..." He makes a soft, sleepy noise, nuzzling instinctively into your [shirt], his lips on your [skin] tightening slightly, but he remains mostly asleep. His long lashes flutter against his cheeks, hiding his expressive eyes. "Don't... go..."

"You're not leaving, I working. Sleep, come on."

He nods slightly, his body relaxing further. His arm around your waist pulls you closer if possible, pressing his face against your stomach. He lets out a contented sigh, finally fully asleep. The room is filled with the quiet sound of his breathing and the occasional rustling of papers as you continue your work.

After some time, you notice that Damian has moved again during his sleep. He's now curled up more tightly against your side, his head resting on your lap again. His arm is draped over your stomach, holding you like a life raft in the middle of the night.

"You cuddle up to me after a tough mission in Gotham, and then in the morning you act like nothing happened, Dami..."

Damian doesn't respond, his sleep too deep to register your words. His face is buried in your lap, his arms wrapped around your waist. Even in sleep, he looks vulnerable and exhausted. It's a rare moment of softness from the typically stoic and cold Batman's son.

Hours later, as dawn begins to break, Damian stirs awake. For a moment, he simply lays there, his face still buried in your lap, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. Then, without a word, he suddenly sits up, breaking the physical contact between you two.

"Damian, my golden one. Come back..."

He ignores your gentle call, standing up abruptly and running a hand through his disheveled hair. His expression is instantly guarded, the vulnerable sleepy Damian from earlier replaced with the cold, distant one you're used to dealing with. "What time is it?" he asks sharply.

"Five o'clock in the morning... God, Dami, you've only been asleep for three hours. Lie back down, you're fine, I'm still taking care of you!"

Damian glances at the clock, his jaw clenching visibly. He turns away from you, grabbing his discarded shirt and pulling it on roughly. "You're fine," he snaps irritably. "Don't bother babying me anymore."

You frowned and grabbed his hand, pulling him back into bed. "Sleep, you damn Wayne heir!"

Damian's eyes widen briefly in surprise as you pull him back into bed, his hand captured in yours. For a moment, he resists, his body tense. But then he abruptly collapses back down onto the mattress, allowing you to tug him once more into your arms once more.

"If you don't get at least three or four hours of sleep, you're going to call you Wade for the rest of your life."

Damian's face buries back into your shoulder at the threat, his arms wrapping around you hesitantly. He lets out a huff, his voice muffled against your skin. "You wouldn't dare," he grumbles, but there's a hint of amusement in his tone.

"No, you dare, Wayne!"

He chuckles softly, his body relaxing against you. The sound is rare and genuine, a side of Damian you rarely get to see. He settles back into your arms, his breathing evening out once more as he drifts back to sleep. This time, he holds onto you like you're his lifeline.