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nightwolfkakana · 13 days ago

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✦ ˚ : · SCHOOL MEETING · : ˚ ✦

pairing ☆ bruce wayne x fem!reader x hal jordan

summary ☆ you and hal take on parents duty, attending a PTA meeting from dick's school

warnings ☆ none, this is very silly

main masterlist | letterboxd

Part 8, series masterlist

You've been working on your laptop all morning, perks of working on tech, you always worked from home. But even locked in Bruce's studio, you could hear him pacing around the manor, muttering things and going up and down the cave all while doing dozens of phone calls.

At lunch time, you closed your laptop and got out of the studio. You found Hal on the kitchen, taking the chicken out of the oven with Dick sitting in the counter with a juicebox and Alfred setting the table.

"Well, look at that," you hum, putting an arm around Hal's waist. He gave you a quick kiss on the lips and then you reached out to fist bump Dick. "Smells amazing, sweetheart."

Dick grinned around his straw and bumped your fist like it was routine now. “Hal put, like, a pound of garlic on it.”

“Enhances the flavor,” Hal argued, holding his head high. “And also wards off vampires. I’m just looking out for this family.”

Alfred raised an unimpressed brow while he laid the silverware. “And simultaneously raising our collective cholesterol.”

You snorted, leaning against Hal’s side. “So basically, Bruce will love it.”

But when everyone sat down and Alfred started serving, the chair at the head of the table stayed empty. For the first ten minutes, Dick filled the silence by giving Hal his official “top five Justice League lantern jokes” list, Alfred made a quiet comment about seasoning balance, and you tried to keep things light.

But eventually, your fork hovered halfway to your mouth, and you frowned. “…Where’s Bruce?”

Dick didn’t even look up from his plate. “Cave.”

Alfred sighed softly. “He has been… preoccupied all morning.”

“I really thought we had overcome this phase,” Hal muttered under his breath, stabbing into the chicken.

Dick perked up, chin propped in his palm. “He’s been acting weird. Even for him.”

That was enough for you. You pushed back your chair. “Alright. I’m going down there.”

Hal stood immediately, grabbing another piece of bread on the way. “I’m coming with you. Someone has to keep you from throwing a laptop at him.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you muttered, tugging him by the wrist as you both headed for the cave entrance.

The Batcave is always dark, filled with noises of the bats and machine buzzes. Now you and Hal only heard Bruce typing really fast, clicking his mouse every once in a while.

“Bruce,” you called, your voice echoing in the stone space.

No response.

Hal rolled his eyes and marched up beside him. “Hey, Dracula, garlic chicken’s on the table and your son’s gonna eat it all if you don’t come up now.”

That finally got Bruce to pause. He exhaled, fingers stilling on the keyboard, but he didn’t look up. “…I can’t. Not yet. I need to fix this.”

You stepped closer, folding your arms. “You’ve been pacing, muttering, and taking calls like the stock market’s about to collapse. What’s going on with you?”

Bruce finally glanced at you both, eyes tired but still sharp. “It’s nothing. Go eat.”

“Nothing, my ass,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “You’ve been down here all day, Bruce. We talked about this.”

Bruce took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping again as he turned back to the monitors.

Hal touched his shoulder lightly. “Babe. Talk to us.”

Bruce didn’t answer at first, just stared at the screens like he could will them to swallow him whole. Then he let out a long breath through his nose, hands dropping from the keyboard to his lap.

“…I’ve been trying to switch my Watchtower shift,” he admitted, voice low, almost gruff. “This evening is the parent–teacher meetings. I already missed the last two, and…” He cut himself off, jaw tightening. “I don’t want Dick to think I don’t care.”

You felt your chest tighten. That was it, he wasn’t distracted because he didn’t want to be there. He was killing himself trying to be in two places at once. You could help the need to wrap this man around your arms and kiss him until he's bright red, but you just smiled a little for now.

Hal softened immediately, leaning into the console to catch Bruce’s eye. “Hey. You don’t have to look like you’re confessing to a crime, big guy. You’re a good dad. You know that, right?”

Hal slid his hand out of his pocket to grab Bruce's, brushing his knuckles.

Bruce finally looked up at him, and then at you. That faint embarrassed flicker in his eyes was almost worse than his usual brooding. “I’ve let him down enough times.”

“Bruce,” you said gently, stepping closer. “You haven’t. You’re here every morning, every night, every time he needs you. He’s twelve, he’s not keeping tally marks on a chalkboard. He knows you love him.”

Hal smirked, trying to keep the mood lighter, though his hand was still warm on Bruce’s. “Besides, the PTA crowd? They don’t deserve you glaring holes into them anyway. You’d just scare all the other parents.”

That got a tiny exhale out of Bruce, not quite a laugh, but close enough.

Then you had an idea. It clicked so naturally you were almost surprised you hadn’t thought of it sooner.

“Okay,” you said, tilting your head at Hal before looking back at Bruce. “What if we went? Hal and I. We can show up, sit in those little chairs, smile politely. Parents will just assume we’re the stand-ins. Dick will still have someone there for him.”

Bruce’s brows furrowed, clearly unsure. “…That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

“Nothing about this family is how it’s ‘supposed to be,’” you countered, grinning. “That’s kind of the whole point, isn’t it? We make it work. Together.”

Hal leaned into Bruce’s space with that cocky grin he only used when he was being honest underneath. “She’s right. You’ve got two perfectly competent, good-looking volunteers right here. And between us, we can handle a room full of teachers and soccer moms without blowing your cover.”

You squeezed Bruce’s hand. “Let us do this for you. For him. You don’t have to do everything alone.”

For a moment, Bruce just stared at you both, silent, caught somewhere between reluctance and relief. Then, slowly, he nodded, shoulders finally dropping as if he was letting himself unclench. “…Alright. Thank you.”

You and Hal exchanged a satisfied smile, and the brunet tugged a little at Bruce’s hand to get him to stand. Hal slipped a hand around the Bat’s waist and pressed several kisses to his cheek and jaw.

"Lets go upstairs, yeah?" you suggested, tilting your head slightly, Bruce catching your hand. "You must be hungry."

Bruce let himself be guided by his two lovers, just shrugging. "Mmh, a little."

Dick wasn’t really happy with the idea of you and Hal coming to the meeting. He sat at the edge of his bed while you helped him button his shirt, grumbling the whole time.

“They’re gonna think you guys are weird,” he muttered. “You’re not even my parents.”

“Correction,” Hal said from the doorway, already in a clean polo like he’d been born for suburbia. “We are your extremely attractive, incredibly fun stand-ins.”

Dick groaned, tugging on his shoes. “Exactly my point.”

By the time the three of you walked into the school, Dick had already abandoned you, darting over to a group of boys by the water fountain with a muttered, “Please don’t embarrass me.”

Which, obviously, meant you and Hal were going to embarrass him.

You both found the little chairs with “Richard Grayson” taped to the desks and sat down like you owned the place. Hal crossed his arms over his chest, legs sprawled even though the chair was two sizes too small for him, while you set your bag on the tiny desk and tried not to laugh at how ridiculous you both looked.

It only took five minutes before curious whispers started around you. A mother in a pressed blazer leaned in from the row behind. “Excuse me… aren’t these Bruce Wayne’s seats?”

You barely thought before answering, “He died.”

There was a sharp intake of breath. A few gasps. Someone dropped their pen.

Hal coughed into his fist, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Tragic, really tragic. Terrible car accident. Such a good man. But hey, he left us the kid and the money, so here we are.”

The ripple of shock that spread across the room was priceless. You and Hal exchanged the smuggest smiles while more parents leaned closer, voices hushed.

“I had no idea—”

“Bruce Wayne is dead?”

“Oh my god, Gotham Gazette didn’t—”

One dad at the back shook his head. “No, no, I saw him at a gala last week.”

“Weekend at Bernie’s situation,” Hal supplied easily. “Looks alive, but it’s all smoke and mirrors. Very advanced science.”

By the time the teacher walked in and started her roll call, at least three parents were whispering frantically into their phones, and Dick —who had spotted the commotion from across the room— looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

When the teacher finally called, “Richard Grayson?” Dick raised his hand and then immediately buried his face in it when the woman’s eyes swept to you and Hal.

“Ah, and you two are…?”

“His guardians,” you answered sweetly. “Mr. Wayne died.”

Dick let out the loudest groan a twelve-year-old could possibly make, while Hal tried very, very hard not to laugh out loud.

A few hours later, while Gotham slept below, Bruce was in the Watchtower finishing up a systems check when his comm device started buzzing. Once. Twice. Then again. And again.

Within five minutes, the screen was lit up with messages.

Clark: BRUCE? Tell me this isn’t true.

Diana: I’m sorry for your loss. I’ll send a wreath.

Barry: Dude are you DEAD???

Oliver: If you’re dead I call dibs on the car.

The beeping didn’t stop. Notifications stacked up like a flood, every Justice League member, business contact, even Lucius Fox. Alfred’s name pinged across the console three times in a row with increasingly formal messages asking for “clarification" and he has never used his phone before

Bruce’s jaw tightened as he scrolled through, reading dozens of:

“So sorry for your loss.”

“Are you really dead?”

“Please confirm.”

He tried to type a reply, only to get drowned out by another incoming wave.

And of course, one thread was suspiciously silent: his private group chat with you and Hal.

He glared at the glowing silence like it was mocking him. Then finally typed:

Bruce: What did you do?

Almost instantly, Hal replied with a smug little photo: him and you in those miniature classroom chairs, Hal grinning like an idiot and you biting your index nail, with Dick in the background looking absolutely miserable.

Hal: PTA meeting. We nailed it.

You: Everyone asked about you. We told them the truth.

Bruce: That I’m dead?

Hal: Exactly.

You: Big hit.

Hal: Might’ve cried. Real Oscar-worthy delivery.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a noise that was half-growl, half-sigh. Bruce slammed the console shut.

Bruce: We’ll talk when I get home.

Hal: Can’t wait, honey. Garlic chicken leftovers waiting 🧄🐓❤️

You: Bring flowers. For your own funeral.

From across the Watchtower, Clark appeared from the tunnel, looking around like someone had just told him the sun was about to burn out.

“Bruce,” he said carefully, stepping closer, “I just got word… are you—”

Bruce didn’t even let him finish. He swiveled the chair to face him, deadpan. “Clark. I’m not dead.”

Clark blinked, completely thrown. “…Are you sure?”

Bruce’s jaw clenched. “Positive.”

The Kryptonian’s brows furrowed in that maddeningly earnest way. “Because I saw an article. Diana messaged me. And Barry. And Oliver. They all said you—”

“I’m alive.” Bruce cut him off, voice like gravel.

Clark squinted at him for a long moment, scanning him up and down with x-ray vision just to be absolutely certain. When he finally exhaled in relief, it turned into the tiniest laugh, the kind he tried to smother behind his hand. “Then… why is the entire League hosting a memorial service in the group chat?”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, sighing in disbelief. "My girlfriend and his boyfriend did this."

Clark blinked.

"You mean Hal and Y/N?"

"Yeah. Them."

Clark made a heroic attempt not to laugh, but his shoulders were already shaking. "Bruce, do you have any idea how insane that sounds?"

"Imagine living with them," Bruce sighs again, really making an effort on being mad at you two, but he really just wants to go home. "They do stuff like this all the time."

Clark was yet again trying not to laugh.

Bruce shot him strong look while leaving his chair. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Me?” Clark feigned innocence, though his shoulders were still shaking with suppressed laughter. “Not at all. I’m just glad you’re not actually dead. I don’t think Gotham could survive Hal and… her running it.”

Bruce let out a grunt, cape swishing as he turned back toward the zeta-tube.

Clark called after him, voice warm with amusement. “Tell them I said hi. And that they’re terrible influences.”

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nightwolfkakana · 19 days ago

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Thod adorae

Can I request headcannons for transformers x gn human reader who said they could hold their whole world in their hands then gently cupping their face?

☆ The World In Your Palm — Transformers x GN Human Reader ☆

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

A/N: Features Optimus, Ratchet, Bumblebee, Starscream, Soundwave, and Megatron

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

Optimus

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Can you now? That's quite the goal"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He thinks it's another cute little human idea initially. A bit of a naive one maybe, but most earth ideas for "shooting for the stars" always confused him a bit. He also sort of sums it up to a hyperbole and doesn't ask much more about it

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Until you offer to show him. That gets his attention. Humans are capable of incredible feats, yes, but how were you planning to prove such a thing? Much more visibly confused, he leans down like you ask him to

ᯓᡣ𐭩 As soon as your palms cup his cheekplates, he's even more bewildered. After thinking about it for a second, he chuckles, leaning into your touch as he uses a large hand to pull you a little closer. "That's very clever" he says with a smile "looks like I can hold the world in my hand too"

Ratchet

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Uh..huh. Good luck with that"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Completely doesn't understand the setup. The whole world?? This one? The giant ball in space holding billions of people? What's that supposed to mean? He assumes you're trying to bait him into a joke or something

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Then you ask him to lean down, and he's even more lost. If this is some sort of practical joke you'd learned from others, he wasn't excited for the outcome. But because it's you, he trusts it, bringing his face close enough for you to reach

ᯓᡣ𐭩 When your hands cup his face, he's even more lost. He runs the situation over again in his heads a few times before it actually lands. He acts exasperated to cover up how flustered he is, lightly patting your head. "You humans, I swear... cute trick, kid"

Bumblebee

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Oh yeah? Go ahead, try, I wanna see it"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He's amused at the idea. He knows you're likely not being literal, but he wants to see where it goes. He's had a lot of fun learning human jokes so far, what's one more to the list?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He leans down as soon as you asked, excited to see the expected punchline. He can't exactly see where it's going yet, but knowing you he hopes for the best and waits expectantly

ᯓᡣ𐭩 When your hands land on his face, he has to take a second to get it. There's a bit of a 'is that... it?' moment where he's still waiting for the joke. Then it clicks all at once, and he gains a very obvious blush on his face. He cups his hands around your head, grinning widely "Well I can hold my whole world in just one hand! Beat that"

Starscream

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Ha! That bold, are you? Is there no end to your feeble little plans?"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He sounds a little mean about it, but it's just his usual teasing. Sort of in a 'that's nice honey' kind of way. He of course argues that if anyone is fit to carry the world, it would be him, obviously

ᯓᡣ𐭩 It takes some convincing to get him to kneel down. He pretends like he's oh so busy and has so many important things to do, but inevitably gives in and indulges your whims

ᯓᡣ𐭩 The second your hands reach his face, he gets it immediately. He stammered a bit, chuckling as he tried to brush it off. He didn't want it to be so obvious that something so small could fluster him, but he couldn't help it around you. "Ahem- well- you're very brave for being so forward! But I suppose I can allow you to hold on for a moment longer"

Soundwave

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Improbable. The world is too big for human hands"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Takes your words at direct face value. He's trying to be honest and let you down easy. He's got no idea how you somehow convinced yourself you were strong enough to pull that off, but he feels like he has to bring you back to reality

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He's only confused when you ask him to come closer. What does this have to do with your claim? He leans down of course, but he doesn't understand what's happening

ᯓᡣ𐭩 When your hands hold his face, he just pauses. He's about to correct you, but before the words can fully leave his mouth, he realizes what you're trying to say. He sighs from his vents as he holds onto your wrists. "I see. I.. can hold the world in mine, too"

Megatron

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Aiming big, aren't we? Your time will come"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He indulges your comment. He's promised you the world, everything his servos can carry. Of course it'll all be yours someday, he'll make sure of it

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He leans down at your request, though he of course asks what you're planning. He can tell by your little grin whenever you've got something brewing in your head, but he allows it for the sake of it

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He catches on the second you hold his face, and he chuckles in amusement. "Ah, that's what you meant" he said, leaning into the embrace "clever... for a human" he teases lightly

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