can we all take a minute to appreciate that in the diner scene there are crayons on the table that dirk definitely asked for but he’s also drinking orange and passionfruit juice which is also unbelievably adorable
We have traveled a mind-boggling 900 miles by car through 8 states so far this month. I’m exhausted but my furry co-pilot seems totally unperturbed. In this photo she got to investigate the joys of the New Jersey turnpike rest stop and she went to starbucks in her little travel bag. We visited my family and her 3 cat cousins and now we are up in Vermont for my first summer rotation. I’m so luck to have a cat who is more adventurous and laid-back than I am.
Request: could i request an older!damian x reader imagine where the reader lives in a bad part of gotham and loves animals so every now and then she leaves food for stray cats and dogs and plays with/pets them and damian observes her for a while when he goes on patrol because he feels curious about her??? You can decide the ending :) Summary: You save the life of a poor kitten by risking your own, only to be rescued by Robin. Word Count: 1172
A/N: OK, so I altered the request quite a bit to write this!! I honestly was having so many issues writing the request as it was (I made Damian seem like a creep and had to scrap that and start over). So I owe credit to @thearkhamnedknight for helping me come up with this concept! I couldn’t have done this without her help!! I hope you’re happy with the changes anonymous requester! I’m pretty happy with the ending myself!
It was the loud boom that brought you out of the book you had almost finished. It was followed by screaming. That drew your undivided attention out the cafe window. Outside, you saw a huge tank-like vehicle running over cars. From its half white half purple paint job, you already knew it was Two-Face. As if to confirm your suspicions, the crazed ex-attorney stood up through some kind of sunroof, gun blazing as he fired off at the crowd. You stared on with wide eyed fear as he laughed maniacally.
You were about to duck under the table when you spotted the little white blur. It was a small kitten, darting through the street to find a place to hide. You watched it run beneath a parked vehicle on the curbside, not knowing it was in the direct path of danger. Your courage surged up and the urge to hide yourself was replaced by the need to save the innocent creature.
You kept your eyes on the scared kitten hunkering beneath the car as you walked through the cafe towards the glass door. You spared a glance towards the psychopath with a gun. He was luckily already occupied with the arrival of Batman and Robin. You dashed out of the building and headed straight to vehicle that was no more than 30 feet from the cafe exit. As soon as you got to it, you crouched down next to the passenger door and felt a new wave of fear as you realized how close all of the action was.
You ducked down and looked at the petrified kitten under the car. It meowed at you as it shook in its fur. You reached out slowly. It backed away a step, just out of your reach.
“Come here, kitty, kitty,” you called quietly, trying to sound soothing, but your voice was shaky. “Come here, little kitty,” you called again. It stared at you with big, green eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you,” you cooed as you left your hand still and open. Just as it started to step closer to sniff your fingers, a blast sounded from the opposite of the car. The cat spooked and took off like lightening towards you. Before it could escape into more danger, you snatched it up. It clawed you madly before it realized you weren’t trying to hurt it.
“There, there,” you cooed. You started to stand to run back into the cafe, to relative safety, until you heard the click of a gun behind you. You turned to see the barrel of an assault rifle only inches from your head. Your heart stopped and your arms tightened around the warm fluff, concealing it. Your gaze followed the barrel up to the face of the goon aiming it at you. Time seemed to move in slow motion.
You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You tried to prepare yourself for what would be a fatal shot. You could only hope it wouldn’t hurt. But instead of the deafening sound of a gunshot, you heard a thud and a groan. When your eyes opened, you saw Robin standing on top of the gunman. Your eyes widened and you felt relief flood your body.
“What are you doing?” he demanded angrily. You were still in shock at the situation, so you simply moved your left arm to reveal the white kitten you were cradling in your right arm. His features softened for a moment, before gunfire rained down from the main fight only a few feet away now. He ducked behind the vehicle, incredibly close to you. His arm wrap around your back and he pulled you into his chest firmly.
“Hold on,” he warned. You used your free arm to cling to him as suddenly you were lifted off the ground and before you could blink, set on a rooftop. The bullets sprayed the building as the shooters tried to follow, but Robin pushed you down on the flat top, out of view. He crouched next to you, visually confirming that you weren’t injured.
“Stay here,” he ordered before leaping over the ledge and rejoining the fight. You obeyed and looked down at the white fluffy kitten. It was filthy, obviously a stray that was likely born in an alleyway near by. You smiled softly as it looked up at you with its large green eyes and meowed. It nudged its head under your hand and purred. You felt relaxed as you pet it gently.
“Well, it looks like we’re in this together now, huh?” you chuckled as you scratched the scrappy kitten’s little ear. As if it understood you, it answered with a meow and settled comfortably into your lap. It was at that time, you realized that the gunshots had finally stopped. You decided to take a risk and peek over the short wall that guarded you from the edge of the roof. First responders were everywhere. Reporters were beginning to appear to interview any witnesses.
“You could’ve gotten yourself killed, you know?” Robin spoke up from behind you. You turned and smiled at him.
“I wasn’t too worried about it,” you grinned. “I saved a life today, too,” you added as you presented the scruffy kitten. It meowed at him.
“What are we going to do with another pet, beloved?” he sighed as he pulled you to your feet and led you away from the crime scene.
“Alfred needed another cat friend,” you shrugged. “Plus, this little one has nowhere else to go,” you nudged him with your shoulder.
“He is quite cute,” he admitted and took the scrap of fur from your hands. The kitten began purring immediately and Damian smiled softly. “What should we name him?” he asked.
“Well, I haven’t decided yet,” you stopped and pulled your boyfriend into an embrace. He hugged you back with one arm, the kitten smushed in the middle in his other arm.
“I’m sorry I missed our coffee date, (Y/n)” he whispered into your hair. You looked up at him.
“I’m sorry my favorite coffee shop has been shot up for the third time before you’ve gotten to try it,” you offered with your odd sense of humor. He couldn’t help but chuckle.
“I’ll get there before it ends up out of business,” he promised. You leaned against him, taking pleasure in the warmth that emanated from him.
“I’ll see you at home, Robin,” you told him, slipping the baby feline out of his clutches. He kissed your forehead lovingly.
“Don’t wait up, it’s looking like a long night,” he answered. You just smiled.
“I’ll keep the first aid kit ready,” you stated before climbing down the fire escape. Damian waited until your feet hit the asphalt before he grappled off to join his father. You could barely see Bruce standing a few rooftops away waiting. You gave him a quick wave before you decided to head back to the townhouse you and Damian had made home for the last year
A/N: I really hope you like it! What would you name the kitten?
Just a bit fluff for today. AU where Sherlock finds a kitten and John is a
veterinarian :) I hope you like it!
One day Sherlock found a kitten.
Or the kitten found him.
It was a stormy day in April, and Sherlock was on his way home. He ran down the street, his shoulders raised against the strong wind, and then he heard it.
A barely audible meowing coming from a car.
Frowning, he stopped and squinted, as he heard the sound again.
Hesitantly, he bent down and glanced under the car.
Out of the shadows, two wide open eyes flashed towards him, and he heard another, this time clearly frightened, moew. There was a small, shaggy kitten sitting there, huddled under the car.
“Oh,” Sherlock said quietly and went to his knees. “What are you doing down there?”
He cautiously reached out for the small bundle of fur. The kitten back a little, away from his fingers, and meowed miserably.
“It’s all fine,” whispered Sherlock. “I won’t hurt you.”
The kitten continued to gaze at him with wide-open eyes.
“Come here.” Sherlock stretched further under the car, and finally, the kitten cautiously sniffed his fingers. “That’s it, I’m not going to hurt you,” Sherlock said softly, stretching his second arm under the car too. When he took the kitten, it squealed, but didn’t try to run away. Sherlock pulled it out and frowned.
Bright, blue eyes looked at him from a dirty, grey face. The animal was very thin and ruffled. Sherlock could see blood on one leg. He sighed. “What am I going to do with you, huh?”
The kitten meowed softly and fidgeted with its paws. “No, no, none of that,” Sherlock muttered, pressing the animal carefully against his chest. He got up and looked around the street, uncertain. The next moment he saw a sign with “veterinarian this way” and he sighed with relief. “Let’s have you checked out, hm?"
John Watson had just treated his last patient - a bulldog with a heavy cold - as his assistant pooped into the room.
"There’s another one, doctor.”
John frowned. “Wasn’t that the last appointment for today?”
“Yes, the young man in the waiting room says it’s an emergency. Found a kitten on the street. ”
“Oh,” John nodded. “Call him in.”
The man, who stormed into the treatment room a few seconds later, took John’s breath away. He was tall and slim. Dark curls hung wildly into his pale face, from which bright blue - no silver - or green? - eyes beamed. He had prominent cheekbones and full lips. In his arms, he had a gray bundle of fur, that he passed over to John immediately. “Here.”
John blinked, completely puzzled, and cleared his throat. “Uhm, good evening, Mister …”
“Sherlock Holmes,” said the man impatiently. “Sherlock is enough.”
“Sherlock. You found the kitten … ”
“It was under a car. I heard it meowing.”
“It was very nice of you to bring the kitten here,” John said as he gently took the small gray kitten from Sherlock. “Not everyone cares for a lonely, hurt animal on the street.” Sherlock glared at him, then shrugged. He seemed a bit embarrassed. “I … well, I thought it was just the logical decision to bring it here. Because, if it dies down there, it might attract flies.” He wrinkled his nose. “And … other vermin.”
“Sure.” John nodded and smiled. He didn’t believe for a second that the man didn’t care about the life of the tiny creature.
He weighed the kitten and did some basic examinations. It was a girl. Unhealthy, a little chilled and an injured leg. Fortunately, the wound was not inflamed. John disinfected it and bandaged it carefully. He also gave the cat the basic vaccinations she surely didn’t have.Then he smiled at Sherlock, who had watched the whole procedure silently.
“She’s not that badly off. She desperately needs something to eat and drink. I’ll give you antibiotics for the wound. ”
“I … Wait a minute, I can’t …” Sherlock looked puzzled and shook his head hastily. “I can’t keep her,” he muttered, looking aside.
“Why not? She seems to like you very much,” said John, laughing as the kitten clumsily marched on Sherlock and meowed emphatically. “You see? It seems to me that you have been chosen.”
Sherlock looked down at the kitten and frowned. “I don’t know if … my landlady … and …”
John laughed and picked up the kitten. He placed it back into Sherlock’s arms, who looked down into the
small bundle of fur, who was beginning to snuggle up and comfortably
closed her eyes. He swallowed.
“I’ll give you a carrier,” John explained. “And at the front desk you can get the medication.”
“I … thank you.” Sherlock lowered his head and smiled crookedly as the kitten rubbed her head against his chest.
For a moment, it was quiet.
For a moment, they were just standing there.
Then, John suddenly felt that he had to say something before it was too late. Before he let a chance pass, which might never come back. That he had to do something.
Before he actually realized it, the words were already out of his mouth.
“Would you like to have dinner tomorrow? I know a good Chinese … ”
Sherlock looked at him. With big, astonished eyes.
John swallowed. Great, Watson. Now you have screwed it up again …
John was so puzzled that he squeezed out a “what?”.
“Yes,” Sherlock repeated. “I’d like to have dinner with you.” And he smiled gently.