112emptycoffeecups - Not For Anyone But Me But It's Too Hard To Figure Out Tumblr Set

happy Thursday the 20th

With the ides of march fast approaching we must be prepared

Please reblog to make sure is equipped!

"have you learned how to drive yet" i have the spirit of friendship in my heart. the joy of lifes little things in my soul. the whimsy of magic. the beautiful enjoyment of nature. the answer is no though

Video game building IRL

little miss awful body temperature regulation is taking his hoodie off again

my favorite scene in LotR as a kid was when Sam started miserably freestyling in the tower of Cirith Ungol and the only reason he ever found Frodo was because he deliriously tried to join in

babe. I know we’re all going thru a lot rn but I just wanna give u the heads up that sesame streets future is in jeopardy. hbo has chosen not to renew it for new episodes (a series that has been going since 1969) and the residents of 123 Sesame Street no longer have a home :(

doing important research about coffee and caffeine (aka I'm curious), please carefully read the following and select the one that seems most accurate, thank you! ☕

Yes let them be family!!!!

Tim had a jumper that doesn’t seem all that special, but to Alfred, Bruce and Dick is incredibly important. Dare they say vital to caring for Tim.

It’s a big wooly thing, once a pale mossy green but now with a hint of brown and white from fading and use. It’s too big for him to the point that the sleeves have to be bunched up when worn and even than they hang over his hands.

It looks like a dress on him, which isn’t help but his naturally slim build.

The jumper is held in such high regard because when Tim puts it on it means that he’s not feeling like he usually does.

His confidence, his snark, his wit, and his mental strength is either hard to reach or impossible.

Tim, in the only instance he actually talked about what was going on when he wasn’t wearing the jumper, said he felt both like a tiny little fish in a giant pond and like his skin was a sheet of paper.

Bruce talked to Dinah about it and said it was most likely a form of mental regression, but Tim refused for it to be called him being ‘little’ or anything that would remind him of being a kid again.

Because he doesn’t act like a kid, but maybe it’s not right to associate Tim Drake with a normal child behaviour pattern. He doesn’t babble or whine or want to watch kids shows like Dinah had suggest he might, but he does go non verbal or only say one or two words in response to pretty much anything.

He puts his jumper on and will just… sit there.

Tim is always moving or thinking, always doing, but when he gets in his ‘jumper state’ as Alfred calls it, he tends to slow down completely and just want to sit somewhere warm and feel the fluff of his carefully maintained jumper.

Sometimes, he seeks out warmth outside of heaters and fires and the sun.

It’s on one of those days when Tim stalks down to the Cave with his jumper on, hair messy over his head and hands held up to his chest in an almost shy manner.

Jason notices him first and simply raises an eyebrow in confusion while Damian scoffs, “What on earth are you wearing, Drake? That looks moldy-“

But Tim doesn’t even look at him, eyes on the floor as he goes over to Bruce at the computer and pokes the older man’s shoulder once before retracting his hand.

Bruce immediately turns and opens his arms, an almost heartbroken look on his face as he lets Tim drawl onto his lap and bury his face in the crook of his neck.

“I’ve got you. Anything in particular or just one of those days?”

Tim speaks in a voice like a husk that Damian and Jason only hear because they’ve come closer and sound travels in the cave, “Janet, birthday.”

Bruce Wayne, The Batman, The Caped Crusader, then fucking coos and kisses his head before rocking him slightly.

“That makes sense. Do you need someone here tonight? I can call Dick or stay myself if you need.”

The two other boys in the room look at each other, shocked to hear Bruce say he will give up a patrol to seemingly cuddle someone.

Tim shakes his head, “Alfred.”

Bruce nods, kissing his head again and saying, “Thank you for coming to me so I can help you. I’m so proud of you for not making yourself go through this alone again.”

It’s not exactly a whine that leaves Tim, but it’s not a word that is Bruce’s answer.

Jason comes forward and awkwardly scratches the back of his head, “I don’t really know what’s going on, but can I like… help or something?”

Bruce smiled as Tim nods against him after a few moments, the boy in his arms turning to reach a hand out for Jason and then strangely patting the hand Jason offers up for him.

Damian, not trying to be rude but needing to understand what is going on, clears his throat and demands, “Explain what is wrong with Drake.”

Luckily Bruce had gotten better at understanding how his son communicates and looks to Tim for permission before answering, “Sometimes Tim needs to… be free of responsibility and just feel like a person for a bit. He isn’t always up for talking and just wants to be around people he trust, and me, Dick and Alfred have managed to convince him to actually come to us when he needs that.”

Bruce smiles at where at where Tim is holding Jason’s hand and swinging it around a bit before feeling over the rough calluses and thick fingers with apparent joy.

Damian frowns a little at his father’s explanation but nods regardless, “Very well, we shall set up the family room for the evening before we head out for patrol.”

Bruce smiled and pulls Damian’s head over to kiss his hairline as he hears Jason mutter, “Weird little guy, aren’t ya?”

Tim hums and pinches his finger and smiling at his older brothers yelp.