#Bruce first class panic

[dcxdpdabbles]

Bruce: What do you want from me!? Are you here to make me suffer more? To show me the weakness of my humanity? Are you the physical proof of my failures to deny sin?!

Danny: I'm literally just standing here, man. I haven't done anything.

Bruce: Then stop wearing my butler's face!

Danny: Look, dude, I don't care what mental breakdown you're going through. Schedule it for three a.m., like the rest of us. I'm just looking for Alfred Pennyworth. According to my adoptive parents, he is my biological father, and he might have an answer to a medical problem I'm going through.

Bruce: No! Alfred can't be your dad!

Danny: Why not?

Bruce: He just can't!

Alfred: Master Bruce, you are sixteen. You're old enough not to be threatened by another child being mine. Cease this jealousy at once.

Bruce in French: It's not jealousy. It's puberty.

Alfred also in French: I beg your pardon?

Bruce crying French: He's so hot Alfred and I didn't know he looks exactly like you at that age. I basically dreamed of kissing you in the moonlight.

Danny in french: Again. Mental breakdown needs to be rescheduled. So you're my father. I thought you would be taller.

Bruce: *Screams of anguish* HE SPEAKS FRENCH.

[batsandbirdbrains]

Another one inspired by this anon who asked abt fics where Dick turns out to be younger than everyone thinks and the recs that were given:

Can be pretty much any setting I suppose, sometime when Nightwing is supposed to be 21. His friends all threw a big party for him. Dick Grayson had a special gala hosted by Bruce Wayne and everything. He’s been drinking (well, he’d been drinking illegally for years now with his friends, but that’s beside the point). Fact of the matter is, Dick is supposed to be 21 and he’s done things that wouldn’t otherwise be legal for someone under 21. He had a whole phase where he needed a cigarette every time he had to deal with Batman (Camels, the best cigarettes, either Blue or Gold, because Dick has Good Taste). That phase may have started before he turned 21 because Roy gave him one after a particularly bad fight with Bruce and then couldn’t say no whenever Dick asked for another.

But really, he hadn’t actually been eight when Bruce took him in. His parents and the circus changed his age on paper all the time so he’d meet the minimum age requirement to perform with them. In Gotham, that minimum age was eight.

In reality, Dick was five. They said he was short because he was a gymnast. It wasn’t totally unbelievable.

But then he forgot to tell Bruce about it until it was several months after living with him and being Robin, and Dick was scared that if he told him the truth, that he’d lied about his age, that Bruce wouldn’t want him anymore.

So he never told anyone. And he was able to convince Bruce to let him be homeschooled the first year or two, and Alfred was a rigorous teacher. He was all caught up with his supposed age group by the time he started at Gotham Academy. Then, he overcompensated so much that by the time we was supposed to be 13, it was recommended he go into high school instead of 8th grade.

It was a lot. It was a stressful time. Dick was a ten year old freshman and also Robin on the side. Bruce really shouldn’t have given him such shit for not wanting to go to college, he was so burned out. But he couldn’t tell him why. It was exhausting. Besides, Dick gets plenty of college credits by doing the random online class here and there. Dick actually managed to get a degree, he just never told anyone. One day, he’s going to whip it out during an argument with Bruce just to prove a point and spite him. He has it all planned out.

But now, there’s some magic shenanigans going on, and everyone on the planet over the age of 20 is separated from those under 20.

And Nightwing is with everyone under 20.

No one says anything at first, Nightwing is the obvious leader of those on his side of things, and they coordinate with the JL on the other side via Captain Marvel going back and forth to relay messages.

But as soon as the threat is dealt with and everything is back to normal, Batman is standing with one of his hands gripping Nightwing’s arm so tight, there isn’t a doubt in Dick’s mind that it’s going to leave a bruise.

“Hey B,” Nightwing says, chuckling nervously. “Good to have you back.”

“Tell me why you were on the side with everyone under 20.”

“Well, you see, that’s a funny story-”

“I’m not laughing, Nightwing.”

Everyone else is very clearly eavesdropping, they’re all obviously just as curious. And Dick feels like he’s under a microscope. He can feel himself starting to hyperventilate, and he pushes all the panic down and sends his most charming smile to Bruce.

“Can we talk about this at home?” he asks, his voice strained. “Please?”

Batman squeezes his arm a little tighter, then loosens his grip. But he keeps hold of Nightwing’s arm, then drags him to the transport room to take him back to the Batcave without saying a word.

“Please don’t be mad,” Dick begs once they’re back at the Batcave. “It wasn’t - I didn’t do it in purpose! I just, it always changed, everything was happening so fast, and then you brought me home, and you were really nice to me and Alfie was really nice to me and I didn’t want to leave and I was scared you wouldn’t want me anymore and-”

“Dick, Dick you need to breathe,” Bruce tells him, pushing the cowl down and guiding Dick to sit near the Batcomputer. He peels Dick’s mask off slowly, gently, then cups Dick’s cheek in his hand. “Just tell me what’s going on. Please.”

“You have to promise you won’t hate me,” Dick begs, and he’s so mad that he can feel tears starting to form in his eyes, that his vision is starting to blur a little bit.

“I could never hate you.”

“Could’ve fooled me!”

Dick’s voice is strangled, scared. And it breaks Bruce’s heart. Sure, they’ve had their disagreements. And sure, Bruce may have told him to stay with his friends for a while so Bruce could cool down between arguments. But he loves Dick. He’s always loved Dick.

“Please just tell me what’s going on,” Bruce begs. “Because you have no idea how scared I was when I realized you weren’t with us. I thought I’d lost you, that the spell must have made some people disappear entirely. Please, Dickie, just tell me.”

Dick looks at him for a moment, both of them quiet. But then Dick is closing his eyes and tears are falling down his cheeks and he lets out a muffled sob as he holds a fist over his mouth.

“It’s not how I wanted you to find out,” he whines, not opening his eyes. “I didn’t know how to tell you, I didn’t know what to do!”

“You don’t have to know,” Bruce says gently. “Nothing in this family ever seems to go how we originally plan, does it?”

Bruce laughs a little, his smile feeling a little less forced when Dick lets out a wet huff of a laugh.

“They changed the documents all the time so I could perform,” Dick says quickly. “Different cities and countries have different rules, different age minimums. For insurance or something, I dunno. People changed their ages all the time in the circus, I thought it was normal.”

Bruce feels his stomach drop, but he moves to hold Dick’s hands and squeeze them tight.

“How old were you when you came to Gotham?”

“They told me I was eight in Gotham,” he says, but then he opens his eyes. “But they were good parents! It wasn’t anything bad, it was so we could perform together, so we could be a family!”

“I don’t think they were bad parents,” Bruce says quickly. “Not at all. But Dickie, I need to know how old you were, how old you are now. Please.”

“I forgot, at first,” Dick explains. “When you took me in. I just forgot, I swear, I didn’t keep it a secret on purpose. But then my birthday was coming up and you thought I was turning nine and I remembered I wasn’t and I got so scared and I didn’t want you to get rid of me.”

“I would never get rid of you,” Bruce assures him. “And I’m not going to be mad, I promise.”

Dick is quiet for a moment, and he doesn’t say anything until his breathing has evened out, until he’s calmed down and not panicking.

Then he admits in a quiet voice, “I was turning six.”

“So you were five?” Bruce gasps. He’d been kneeling in front of Dick’s seat, and he falls back to sit on his feet, feeling like he had the wind knocked out of him. “Oh God, you were five.”

Dick doesn’t say anything, but he nods his head. Bruce feels like he’s just had ice dumped over his head.

“You’re eighteen right now?” Bruce asks.

“Yeah.”

“Jason is older than you?”

“Barely!” Dick huffs. “Only a few months! You can’t tell him, don’t tell him!”

Bruce smiles then, because leave it to the sibling rivalry to be what gets Dick to snap out of his panic.

“We have to tell them, chum,” he says gently. “You can’t keep it a secret anymore.”

“Why not!”

“Dick,” Bruce sighs. “Do you really want to keep it a secret now? Now that you’ve told me?”

Dick is quiet for a while, but he doesn’t pull his hands away from Bruce.

“And you’re not drinking again until you’re actually 21.”

“That’s not fair!”

“I think it’s plenty fair.”

“You’re being totally lame!” Dick whines. But whatever. Dick will just drink behind his back with his friends like he did before he turned fake-21.

[fandomshenanigans]

Platonic!Yandere!Batfam x Neglected!Batsib!Reader

After getting over the initial disappointment that you might not get the kind of family you wanted, you took stock of your situation and found that you actually like this arrangement

You were already a self sufficient from the start and had a life outside of the Manor so it didn't suck too bad

Before Damian was introduced, you spent your evenings in the Manor, either in the library or just wandering in the garden

After Damian came around and made you aware of your "position in the family", suddenly you applied for a part time job in a 24/7 coffee shop and worked the night shift. So you're barely home now

(Plus, you gave the more important stuff you owned to your closest friend to keep so nothing in that room held anything meaningful to you.)

You had dreams for college, wanting to get out there and learn, create a career of your own, everything

You also remember your mother mentioning how she hopes you might be the first in her side of the family to attend college so there was also a sense of duty that made you so eager to reach that milestone

Except..

Suddenly, Bruce's attention was on you. Suddenly, Dick was the most eager to spend time with you. Suddenly, Jason is visiting the Manor, just for you. Suddenly, Tim is more interested in you as a person. Suddenly, Damian is nicer, though just a bit.

Suddenly, you're part of the family.

There were too many changes that it made your head spin but you managed to catch up with the change so now you're just going with the flow

Honestly, this just reminds you of how you dealt with creeps at the coffee store. Just do as they ask to placate them but firmly stand your ground.

If they ask for a smile, you smile at them before excusing yourself. If they ask for some time, you tell them to give you a moment and rearrange your schedule to fit them. (Though you did immediately reject them if they try to take a whole day with you. You had a schedule and you'd be damned if you let them mess that up.)

This continues on for a couple of months and you were simply continuing to indulge them whenever they tried to "make up for lost time"

Until you told your dad about your plans for college.

You had been doing so well at school, your grades were perfect and you were a great student, according to your teacher. You mention to him how you wanted to attend this one college in Metropolis since it had the best science programs

"You're not going to college. At least, you can't go to one that far."

.......huh?

"Maybe choose one that's closer to home? Or better yet, you don't have to go."

Ex-fucking-cuse me?

You gripped the collar of his stupid shirt, glaring into his eyes with pure hatred as you screamed at him, demanding to know what the FUCK that meant.

You demanded to know why is he trying to pull this on you. Was this some twisted power play?

Bruce tried to calm you down, claiming that wasn't what he meant.

But you cut him off before he could bullshit you further.

"Are you that ashamed of me, Mr. Wayne? Am I that much of a stain to your family name that you'd rather keep me locked up so no one can see me? Is that what you're trying to say?"

Then, you dropped him like a hot potato and stormed off

After that revelation, you stopped eating. Stopped taking care of yourself. Stopped going to classes because what was the fucking point? You're not going to reach that milestone in your life so why bother? You simply locked yourself in your room and refused everything.

Everyone is in a panic because it's been WEEKS since you've left your room, since you've started to rot in your bed.

They all did their best to coax/lure you out. But nothing was working.

"I'm sorry, please, just open the door. You can go to college in Metropolis, just like you wanted, okay? I'm sorry for denying you, please." Bruce pleads.

Then, the door opens and now you're hugging him, accepting his apology before you're running off to clean yourself up.

You're back to being the sweet yet distant sibling, who's smile to them was simply for show, who's more interested in anything other than family.

Might continue this but yeah, this is an idea that popped into my head.

[umbrellajam]

Tim Drake Reading List - before his Robin (1993) solo

I'm sure this has been done many times before, but I'd been meaning for a while now to put together my own reading list for Tim prior to his 1993 solo, as I so often see that recommended as the starting point for him, but. Well. There's a lot of key material for Tim before that and Robin 1993 also starts very weirdly in medias res smack dab in the middle of the Knightfall event, which throws people off all the time, lol.

So anyway, a list! Not 100% comprehensive, but hopefully a helpful overview to somebody, somewhere :)

PRE-TIM CONTEXT

A Death in the Family (Batman #426-429) – Jason is murdered by the Joker. We all know this one, hopefully.

New Titans #55 – Dick finds out about Jason’s death, and comes to Gotham aiming to both console and confront Bruce about it. They have a fight; Bruce backhands Dick and tells him to leave.

Batman: Year Three (Batman #436-439) – despite the above, Dick returns to Gotham soon afterward due to Tony Zucco’s parole hearings, and we see him continue to worry and reach out to Bruce as the man fails miserably at dealing with Jason’s death; we also have the first appearance of Tim in the flashback to Dick’s origin at the circus.

INTRO AND PRE-ROBIN ARCS

A Lonely Place of Dying (alternating Batman #440-442 and New Titans #60-61) – Tim’s proper intro arc, tracking Dick down at the circus to try and convince him to become Robin again, as Batman continues to go off the rails and “Batman needs Robin”. He ultimately gets accepted for a trial/training period before he can become Robin.

Batman #443-445 – cute training-period issues where Bruce awkwardly starts to teach Tim and Tim is an eager beaver.

New Titans #65 – Tim shows up on an exasperated Dick’s doorstep in New York, and we get a really great Dick & Tim training issue.

The Penguin Affair (Batman #448, Detective Comics #615, Batman #449) – a fun early Bruce & Tim arc that includes the introduction of Harold Allnut as the Bat team's mute engineering genius, Bruce angsting and second-guessing himself about having a new Robin but still wanting to encourage Tim (“Remember to thank him later. The boy needs reassurance.”) and also civilian!Tim taking part in the operation with adorable pre-Robin code names (“Little bat to big bat. Target in cross-hairs.”)

Batman #450, Detective Comics #617, Batman #451 – a short arc about the Joker resurfacing for the first time since being presumed dead at the end of A Death in the Family. Tim appears minimally because Bruce panics and sends him out of the country immediately (along with his entire school class lol), but there’s lots of angst and introspection from Bruce on Jason's death and Robin in general.

Rite of Passage (Detective Comics #618-621) – includes Tim’s parents being kidnapped, his mother’s death, and his father ending up paralyzed and in a coma.

EARLY ROBIN ERA

Identity Crisis (Batman #455-457) – includes Tim’s devastation and struggle in the wake of what happened to his parents, wrestling with the legacy and meaning of Batman & Robin in a way he hadn’t understood before, and whether he’s prepared for it. Also Janet Drake’s funeral, and ultimately Tim’s official graduation to the Robin mantle.

Robin I: A Hero Reborn #1-5 – Tim’s first solo mini-series as Robin; his first of many trips to Paris as part of his training, where he first encounters Lady Shiva and King Snake. This is also where Tim picks up his iconic bo staff for the first time, with training from Shiva.

Batman #465-469 – Tim’s first actual patrols with Bruce, and the return of King Snake.

Detective Comics #635-637 – the “Bruce & Tim have to fight video games come to life” arc, lol. I would call these fun but optional.

Robin II: The Joker’s Wild! #1-4 – Tim’s second solo mini; the Joker returns to Gotham while Bruce is out of the country and unreachable, and Tim as a barely fledged Robin has to thwart the clown’s plans with only Alfred to aid him.

“To the Father I Never Knew…” (Batman #480) – An important issue on Tim’s relationship with his father, especially now that he’s woken up from his coma and is suddenly interested in Tim, when he barely had been before. Lots of Tim angst and struggle, framed through a bitter letter he’s writing to his dad. Alfred also slyly nudges Tim to look into the estate next door to Wayne Manor, when he’s trying to figure out how or even if he’ll be able to continue as Robin now that his Dad is awake.

Electric City (Detective Comics #644-646) – includes Batman’s heart getting stopped due to electrocution, and Tim viciously threatening the villain to get him to defibrillate Bruce back to life. (“You’re going to shock Batman’s heart back online or I’m going to tear you apart.”)

Batman #481 – the notable bit here is Tim and Jack check out the estate next door to Wayne Manor and basically decide to take it.

Detective Comics #647-649 – the introduction of Stephanie Brown as Spoiler, including her thwarting/attempting to off her dad and also the infamous scene where she clobbers Robin in the face with a brick, lol.

Robin Annual #1 – Tim’s first team-up with Lonnie Machin/Anarky.

PRELUDE TO KNIGHTFALL

Batman #486 – Tim driving Jack to his medical appointments with Dr. Shondra Kinsolving, and worrying with Alfred over Bruce’s growing self-destructiveness in the prelude to Knightfall.

Robin III: Cry of the Huntress #1-6 – Tim’s third solo mini, and his first team-up with Helena Bertinelli as the Huntress. Also, Tim’s first meeting with Ariana Dzerchenko, who will be his first girlfriend, and friction/fights between Jack and Tim as Tim skips out on school and tries to cover up his Robin work. Includes a blow-up fight over Jack threatening to send Tim back to boarding school for his misbehavior. ("Who is the son you know, Dad? You don't know me. You never bothered. You shipped me from one boarding school to another and nobody paid any attention as long as my grades stayed high. You and mom were too involved running around the world.")

Batman #488-490 – the Bats start working with Jean-Paul Valley/Azrael, including Robin recruiting him to fill in temporarily as Batman when Bruce is ill. Bane’s plans to exhaust and break the Bat ramp up in the lead-in to Knightfall.

Showcase ‘93 #2-6 – Tim’s first time teaming up with Catwoman as they take on the crimelord Bracuda. This storyline will later cross over with one of Dick’s in the Bracuda & Chulo arc for Dick & Tim's first real team-up.

KNIGHTFALL

I won’t go over this whole period in detail as it’s quite a long storyline (link to the fandom wiki for all the info and issues), but some highlights for Tim are:

Detective Comics #660 – Tim tracks Bane down to his hideout but then gets captured and caught in the middle of a fight between Bane and Croc in the sewers.

Batman #494 – Tim drags himself home and presses Bruce to accept help in the wake of the mass Arkham break-out organized by Bane.

Detective Comics #661-662 – Batman sidelining Robin again while fighting Firefly and Tim again repeatedly badgering Bruce to accept help; Tim later takes down Firefly largely alone.

Batman #497-498 – Bane breaks Batman’s back; Bruce appoints JPV to succeed him as Batman despite Tim asking about Dick. JPV as AzBats goes increasingly off the rails during his time as Batman.

Batman #500 – Tim refuses to be party to the new Batman’s brutal methods, but is blown off by an increasingly unstable JPV. Dick finally shows up in the storyline while Tim is brooding outside the Manor. Dick is angry that he had to hear about Bruce’s devastating injury secondhand and that Bruce chose someone else to take up the mantle of Batman.

The Flash #81-83 – optional context, but this is Dick’s side of the build-up to the Bracuda & Chulo crossover with Tim. Dick and Kory visit Wally after their disastrous interrupted wedding (which Tim attended) and Dick’s ouster as leader of the Titans in New Titans #100-101. Dick ends up embroiled in an investigation of the criminal Chulo.

Showcase ‘93 #11-12 – Dick and Tim’s first proper team-up as Nightwing and Robin! Extremely fun and character revealing interactions as they navigate working together while barely knowing each other. My notes on these quote practically everything in both issues – they're fantastic.

Detective Comics #667-668 – Tim finds out that JPV has walled off the secret tunnel from Drake Manor to the Batcave. He also gets his driver’s license early (at 14) as a special dispensation due to his father’s handicap. This issue leads directly into the first issue of Tim’s solo, ending as he's caught sneaking back into the Cave. AzBats grabs and lifts Robin by his neck, choking him, which is how Robin (1993) #1 opens.

Finally, alongside the early issues of Tim’s solo, be sure not to miss the full Batman: Prodigal arc (https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Batman:_Prodigal), which covers Dick’s first stint wearing the Cowl of the Bat with Tim as his Robin. This is the period where they first really spent time together and bonded, and includes Robin (1993) #11-13. The whole thing is a banger, and essential reading.

[coldilikeit]

Isekai reader x Batfam (Neglected au)

Female reader

Chapter 6- The mission is non-existent

TW: School shooting

______________________________

Damian looks around the room, it feels more like an apartment rather than a room

"No wonder the miss rarely comes down for food, with the amount of kitchen appliances here she'd rival a small town restaurant..." Alfred chuckles, he looks at the expensive, top grade materials

"There's nothing in the fridge though..." Jason grumbles, Duke is asleep beside you holding your hand and Bruce admires the scene "That's enough, stop rummaging through your sister's stuff"

He looks around your room, pictures of your friends, you at parties, you at school events, how the fuck?, you held your own charity gala? How??? Where did you get the money? How did this not reach him?

"hng- ow- What the fuck!?" You wake up and you see the cast of the Addams family surrounding you

"Don't try to overdo it" Dick helps you sit up

"Huh?"

Reader! You are fucked, everyone's hatred meter has gone down to 10%, EVEN DAMIAN AND JASON'S METER

You shift further away from Dick, his gaze turns sad sensing your discomfort with him, he really needs to change that

"Is there something you need?" Duke asks, he holds your hand tight, "Do you need us to do something?" Asked Tim

"Can you all please leave my room..." You say and you see that Bruce hesitates "Are you sure? You might need assistance?"

Reader, make them go away, it keeps on dropping! If it reaches zero you'll fail!

"There's no need, it was just fear gas..."

_____________________________

School was absolute shit.

Damian had pulled you away from your friends to eat with you during recess, you'd also found out Tim bribed the principal to switch your classes so you'd have the same as his

Some of your friends are annoyed that your siblings are meddling, they've never eaten lunch with you before? Why now? And others are cooing, they've never seen you interact with your siblings, and the fact your gentler with your friends than your siblings makes them happy

Your teachers are grateful that you manage to tame Damian

"(Name)! I watched your violin concert last night! You were amazing!" Says a student, you smile "Thank you!"

Then the student's mood shifts "I heard that the route you were taking home was attacked by both the Joker and Scarecrow right? Are you okay?" They ask, the surrounding students get curious but don't necessarily engage

"yeah... I'm fine" you say, you're trying to think of ways to differentiate the topic, the student gasps "Oh but I saw on the news that you were one of scarecrow's victims! And that you inhaled the fear gas..." She says as she smirks, "I don't really want to talk about it, and I'm fine..." You answer

"Oh but-" Damian grabs her arm and pushes her away from you "She says she doesn't want to talk about it? Why are you pushing?! Are you really worried or you just wanted gossip?" He snarls

You see the girl wince but smiles anyway "ah right... Sorry"

And then it hit... An attack? It hits your school so fast, the students scream and panic, "Everyone out!" Shouted a security guard, you hear a bunch of gunshots in the halls and the screams from that direction become quieter until it stopped completely see

Are you serious?

A school shooting.

Never in your original years and reincarnated years combined have you ever been so fucking scared and pissed off at the same time

First and foremost, you just survived the mother fucking scarecrow, now you have to survive guns?

Damian holds your hand and runs away with you, "What are you doing!? You're supposed to save people!?' you whisper-yell to him, he gets you to a hidden area and hands you a small dagger he hid in his socks, he looks at you worryingly "Stay here, wait till I get back-"

"They've been apprehended!" yelled a student, "Well... There's no need for that huh?", slowly you and Damian walk out of the room to see what happened? Did another bat get them already? Was it Tim?

Then you see her.

In a hero costume, trapping the shooters with what seem to be magical ropes, her costume design looked like it was stolen from my hero academia

"There's no need for all of you to worry, for I Protagonist has taken care of them, they'll be handed over to the police" she says

"Did she really name herself 'Protagonist'?" Tim comes from behind you looking baffled at the name choice

"At least she saved us" you say

_____________________________

Hey so do you guys remember that one comment about the family couch on chapter 2? And how all the years of living there you never sat on it? Well after days of the family trying to get you to watch a movie with them on the couch, you confessed you feel weird about sitting somewhere sacred to them

You come home after volunteering at a soup kitchen that the family couch is gone, replaced by a new pristine couch with comfortable pillows

Stephanie smiles at you "You're back! Wash up, the family is watching a movie" mixed in her voice a tone of dominance, you can't say no

You find yourself huddled up, you feel yourself sweating as Tim curls up on you and Cass is leaning on your shoulder, Dick hand you the remote "You pick" she says

You scroll for a few moments and you feel the family get a bit impatient, so you click on the nearest movie you find

Bad idea.

It was a movie about a dog being abandoned by their owner in a hike and as they try to find their way home they die

You're in shambles, you've watched people die in movies, either terminal illnesses, a series of unfortunate events, murder, you've cried to some, some didn't phase you

But a sad dog movie?

You are wrecked, Jason hands you your 3rd tissue pack, your inconsolable, you hate animals getting sad endings, the. Titus licks your hand, Damian brought him to console you, while Bruce chooses another movie, this time he chose a dog movie with a happy ending, you hugged Titus the whole night

It happened to you before, when you and your friends were in a really lengthy assembly, they fell asleep on your shoulders, you made it your mission to not move at all, you didn't want to wake them, you liked that they learned on you for comfort

But Tim and Cass sleeping on you, you have no idea what to do, your instincts that you got because of your friends tell you to stay still so they'd be comfortable

Another part of you is screaming that if you don't move the hatred meter will go down

And go down it did

Everyone is down to 2%, you can't let it get to zero, you can't

Bruce looks at you "(Name) about your upcoming 16th birthday-"

He sees you asleep, he smiles and admires his children

Matter of fact you were just pretending to be asleep, if you hear another birthday party plan you'll die, last year you had that Damian excuse, but now? You're out of reasons to not have that stupid party

So you sleep...

Oh well look at all of you...

What a happy family.

You're done for.

_____________________________

Damian: I need to place (Name) in a safe space before helping

Protagonist: the job is done

Tim: Tacky fucking name

_____________________________

@jellyedkazoo @vanilliona @shyenemyperson @popboomcha @plsfckmedxddy @devotedlyshamelessdetective @dorkatron-2000 @yuyuzi-ling @sweetsugerskull @butratherbutrather @yu-reiii @clementinesyummy @lfiee @iamapotatoe @type-ink @unknownloner1345 @randomlyappearingartist @justatimidcreator

[nyukaart]

Feel free to ignore but I had a funny idea pop into my head about the teen dad Bruce au.

For whatever reason Bruce ends up taking Dick to college classes with him. In one of his gen-ed classes (prolly some sort of humanities) dick decides that he's bored and goes to go be chatty and hang out with one of the other college students. Bruce is way too tired to care at this point between trying to balance being Batman and doing well at all his pre-med track so he's utterly oblivious to this happening. Come the end of class Bruce looks around him to realize that Dick is nowhere to be found. Cue Bruce spotting him with the other student and just panic books it over there. He acts all super apologetic and is probably really worried that Dick somehow managed to irritate one of his classmates. (He does not need enemies at school thank you very much!) They insist that it's really no problem and Dick is such a sweet and well behaved kid, it was super fun watching him and if he ever needs help watching the boy he could always ask them. Bruce thanks them and apologizes once more before dragging Dick away. Bruce ends up being kind of huffy and asks why he never behaves for him. Dick being the sassy little gremlin he is just responds with "Because they're nice." and then just continues on. Bruce ends letting out this most exhausted sigh of defeat. And then I guess just end scene from there.

I dunno your AU just really gave me brainworms that I felt obligated to share. I love it so much and I hope you have a lovely New Year!

I CAN TOTALLY SEE THIS HAPPENING I ACTUALLY HAVE A FEW SKETCHES OF DICK CRASHING BRUCES COLLEGE (followed him very quietly) WHEN I FIRST THOUGHT OF THIS AU maybe if I have the time I'll draw this..perhaps...

[emo-batboy]

Things Battinson Totally Did During His First Year of University

Using Unhinged or Odd Things I Also Did as a College Freshman :D

Note: for this list, let’s believe Bruce was living in an (admittedly expensive and swanky) dorm because it is required for first-years, especially those entering at a young age, and Alfred told him he needed to make friends. Also yes I did every single thing on this list. I never claimed to be a role model

Bruce, to his TA: I’m so sorry I’m late to class. I gave blood a few hours ago and almost fainted on the way here, but it won’t happen again.

Signs up for a class called “Age of Dinosaurs” despite it not being required whatsoever and proceeds to work his entire schedule around it

Bruce: Your mental health is super important. If you think you should see the on-campus therapist, go see them. Friend: Fine. I’ll sign up for therapy if you sign up for therapy too. Bruce: Hold on-

Finds a loophole in his housing contract that allows him to get a pet frog, calls him kermit :)

Gets a second frog because Kermit was lonely, names it Constantine after Muppets Most Wanted, then realizes that they’re gay for each other. Wonders if the rainbow-colored rocks he got them triggered anything

Swings dramatically between calling Alfred every single day and ghosting him for weeks, cries when he realizes what he did

“Accidentally” joins the student body council, doesn’t know what he’s doing, gets re-elected anyway

Molds a dragon out of Laffy Taffy instead of doing his work

Bruce: *joins Honors, gets all A’s, takes the max amount of classes, has several minors, overachieves* Also Bruce: I’m a failure.

Breaks into a building after hours to study because NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AT THE LIBRARY

Bruce: I will not get seasonal depression this year. Bruce: *gets real and seasonal depression that year*

Meticulously schedules his day with a color-coded planner because if he sits down for too long, the thoughts will consume him

Gives a presentation to his rhetoric class on how much he likes Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (it is 20 minutes long)

Successfully allocates funding from the student body council to pay for free feminine products in the dorms OUT OF SPITE because someone said it couldn't be done. fuck you, Andrew

Bruce: It is not an all-nighter if I go to sleep before my first class. Friend: It is 7:30am, the sun is in the sky, and your first class is at 12:30. Bruce: But I am getting sleep.

Refuses to go anywhere without his backpack because what if he needs three notebooks at once

Loses over 20 pounds because ✨stress✨ and scares the shit out of Alfred when he comes home for Thanksgiving

Argues with his TA over the one (1) question he got wrong on his Dinosaur exam

Bruce, calling Alfred: Hello father figure. How do I do taxes? Do I have to do them myself? Also, I think I’m having a panic attack.

Joins in on a charity arts-and-crafts project that gives kids books with matching activities made by volunteers, proceeds to commandeer the project because “it’s not color-blind friendly” and rewrites the instructions for everyone

Makes a murder wall

Goes to one (1) sports game and proceeds to leave in the first ten minutes because it’s way too loud wtf is wrong with people

Professor, addressing the lecture hall: I dare you to write an essay about these two sentences. Bruce: *writes an essay about six words, gets a 100, never even read the book*

Crawls into the ceiling for some alone time

Ghosts someone after a date because he’s too scared to tell them he didn’t know it was a date in the first place and now he feels bad

Classmate: How tf does he walk across campus that fast? I go in the same direction he does on my bike, and he’s always ahead of me. Bruce: *is gay sprinting to Dinosaur class*

Refuses to let others use his Favorite Pen TM

Constantly gets mistaken for a Grad Student because he is “so wise and mature” (bestie, that’s the autism)

Alfred: *casually mentions he got into a car accident through text* Bruce: *replies with a meme while hyperventilating because he doesn’t know what to do with that information??!*

Wears a suit to one of his finals

Regularly eats non-organic food for the first time in his life, proceeds to learn about several allergies Alfred forgot to mention he has

Writes “What is a Hot Pocket?” in calligraphy and proceeds to laugh his ass off alone in his dorm because he is so exhausted he’s reached the point of delusion

Locks himself out of his dorm right before class, frantically asks the floor group chat if someone can help, proceeds to tell the nice gay man on the floor who saved him “I love you” because his social skills have hit rock bottom

Makes a little music album display next to his desk for his favorite band (Nirvana) His friends call it a shrine, and they are technically correct

Has a blacklist of people he refuses to interact with because Reasons

Counselor: What do you want to do when you graduate? Bruce: *gestures vaguely*

Refuses to take the bus because there are people in there and he doesn’t like those

Loses one of his frogs, how tf did he do that, they’re fully aquatic, oh fuck, this is probably why they got rid of that loophole a year later because unbeknownst to Bruce, he accidentally started a frog revolution in the dorms, btw he SWEARS he did not mean to do that

Has two trash cans in his room: one for the Good Garbage, and one for the Bad Garbage. Only Bruce knows which is which

Bruce: *writes a creative piece about a ship’s final thoughts as it sinks, bringing its passengers down with it* TA: Absolutely lovely, Bruce, but are you okay?

Goes on Night Walks, keeps himself safe by maintaining a level 12 resting bitch face at all times

Earns the nickname “8th floor cryptid” after pacing the halls at 3am when it’s too cold for Night Walks (honestly tho how tf didn’t he get the nickname earlier?)

Bruce: Do you think a depressed person could do this? Bruce: *has a manic episode*

Okay that's all love you BYE

[ellesthots]

code of ethics

v. “coffee”

read on AO3 🤎

parts: previous / next

plot: you finally get answers from your professor.

pairing: professor!bruce wayne x student!reader

cw: 18+, smut !

words: 6.1k

a/n: this chapter was a (lovely) beast to write !! the next one will be the last in this miniseries !! it'll have Bruce's POV ✨ i wanted to include some other elements, but i'm saving those for fateful 🤭 enjoy <3 feel freeeee to let me know what you think!

Shaking hands held either side of the sink in the closest bathroom. A sopping clump of paper towel sat at the edge of it from trying to take some of the puffiness out of your eyes; its lukewarm form mocked you as it dripped down the porcelain’s edge. 

If you didn’t come back to class, it would be strange. The loser in the back would assume you didn’t know what you were doing, that Professor Wayne had drilled into you, and that would be that. Being reduced to the memory of ‘TA Who Got Told Off By Professor Wayne and Never Showed Again’ sounded like a miserable existence. 

You checked in the mirror once more to see your tear troughs bloated from crying, but you didn’t have time to care. Every passing second was another moment lost to the abyss, a sacred spilling of opportunity knowing the talking-to that would inevitably result in your removal from the course after this first day. 

Walking down the empty hallway to class had your steps echo, filling you to the brim with dread. If he had to get the administration involved, did you have to worry about more than being kicked from class? Would you be able to walk these halls again? You weren’t particularly attached to the Humanities building, but you didn’t want to be ripped from it, either.

Professor Wayne’s voice boomed from outside the classroom door. “Ensure your papers are submitted in PDF format before midnight EST, and follow current APA guidelines.” Just in time. “If any of these requirements are not met, your grade will reflect it.” Oh, brother. You gritted your teeth and walked in.

“The references must—”

Your eyes flicked to his, and he immediately looked back to the board. “They, uh, the references must be published within the past five years.” 

You’d never heard him stutter during a lecture. Was he that pissed at you? Dear god. 

The seat creaked when you sat, and you cringed as eyes wandered to you and the whiteboard. Your skirt rode up in the back, and you tried as delicately as possible to tuck it back under you, but it wouldn’t go. You glanced nervously at Professor Wayne, grateful he was paying full attention to the students. 

Though you’d only taken two courses from him, syllabus day was never just syllabus day. He sped through the document, then lectured like the class had already read the bajillion required books. You remembered the panic that tormented you in September when he’d done that, slinging about terms you’d only barely heard, or not at all, then hardly elaborating. ‘The answer’s in the reading,’ he’d say when a brave student raised their hand to clarify. No one ever had the heart to tell him his expectations were so high they were practically crushing. 

He grabbed a dry erase marker and began writing something you couldn’t parse while you fought off a panic attack. What was he about to tell you? Your thoughts spiraled unproductively, and you began to regret ever leaving the bathroom and its proximity to toilets with the nausea ravaging your system. 

Professor Wayne continued his lecture, skirting past the syllabus as if it hardly existed. His white button-up was smartly tucked into tailored black slacks, and you could make out the slightest hue of his skin beneath the fabric. The turn of his hips and the flex of his back as he drew timelines across the whiteboard made you jam your teeth into your tongue. Power play. That’s all this is. 

He turned to address the entire class, and his sweeping eye contact landed on you in what felt like an accident. His gaze stuttered alongside his words for the second time this evening, and you cocked your head. Huh. 

While he guided the class in an exercise, your focus trained on a new tic; one of your first observations of him last year was how smooth and steady he was, expression unwavering to a disturbing degree—but now saw the bobbing of an Adam’s apple and the rolling of his bottom lip under his teeth. Huh!

Your hands began to tingle as you sat back, zooming out from the classroom for a moment. The lines he drew were shakier. His lines had been too straight before, so these newbies wouldn’t notice. But you did. What terrible, awful, no good thing had you done that warranted this? 

“Adriana.” 

His icy blues speared right through you, weighing more than the entire classroom’s attention and bringing you to alertness faster than your borrowed name. “Yes?”

“Can you hand out the activity I asked you to bring?”

You squinted. Nowhere in any email had there been an activity listed. 

The students were rigidly silent, a norm for his classes; Professor Wayne commanded perfect attention, and people picked up on it from the second he entered the room. It felt electric, alive, intimidating.

Sweat gathered on the back of your neck. You must’ve forgotten it in the anticipation of your scheme. It would be listed in a line somewhere your eyes skipped over in the bustle, and class would be fucked for your mistake. Absolutely fucked, all because you had it out for the man. “I, um,”

Inhaling the first words of your apology, you stalled. Power play. You’d been singularly set on your goal for today, yes, but you weren’t completely distracted. Definitely not incompetent enough to forget one of two printables. 

“Professor.” You forced your trembling hands to fold gently in your lap. His stare could’ve pinned you to the wall. “You didn’t send me an activity.” 

Professor Wayne’s jaw ticked. “Are you cer—”

“I’m sure, yes,” you interrupted. Your smile was sickly sweet, and his gaze tore from yours. That same thoughtful double-blink surfaced as when you’d called him out about the reference page. You hadn’t thought it meant anything then, but now you wondered.

“Alright everyone, let’s pivot.” 

Thankful he wasn’t making an example out of you, you finally relaxed into your chair and let the grin slip. While he faced the board, you took advantage of your position behind his desk and checked your phone, swirling with nerves.

SYLLABUS - PDF was the only email attachment. 

Thank fucking god.

Time passed surprisingly easily with this win draped over you. How embarrassing for him to forget and call attention to it. And how fucking great did it feel not accepting the fall for his mistake. His handwriting got a bit wobblier. Victory on day one.

The high of throwing off Professor Wayne made the remaining time pass tolerably. An inch of traction had been won, and even if it was naive, you felt more secure going into the conversation. So when students began filing out and others began the quintessential line of post-lecture questions, you felt smug—not afraid. 

Who was to say you couldn’t just throw whatever accusations he was about to make back in his face again?

A few students who weren’t Bruce Wayne superfans found themselves disgruntled with the lengthy line, and moved to you to answer questions. Some regarded APA formatting, to which you gave the obligatory Purdue OWL site link, and a smattering of other questions were easily answered by gently pointing to the section in the syllabus. The student who walked with you to class was the last in your line, and looked nervously at Professor Wayne before walking up. 

“Hey, you took this class, right? You said in the fall?” He hiked his book bag up on his shoulder where it just slipped down again. His elbow had a red spot from where its weight tugged. 

You nodded, fighting a smirk. He looked precisely as you’d felt sidling up to the professor’s desk at the midterm. 

“Can you give any pointers on how to get a good grade? I didn’t expect him to be so…”

“Intense?”

He looked to the ground and mumbled, fiddling with the leather strap. “I thought the ratings might’ve been spammers or something.” 

A quick glance at Professor Wayne showed he only had two students left to talk to. You leaned forward and lowered your voice, elaborating on what you’d mentioned earlier. “Make sure your formatting is solid. And that you actually do the readings and look over the slides before coming to class, and that your questions aren’t answered in the text. He asks for a lot of reading, and the people who didn’t prioritize it regretted it.” 

He nodded like some sort of soldier, bidding a frantic “Thanks!” and promptly speeding off, his bag slapping his leg with each step. You hoped he wouldn’t get eaten alive the rest of the term. 

“Y/n?”

Something about how he said your name made your stomach curdle. The professor’s voice wasn’t its usual penetrating timbre; it was hollowed-out and tentative. A scan of the room revealed the last two students must’ve busted their asses to leave, because the room was barren. No one had even left a paper shred. 

“I understand you want to know definitively why I can’t let you be my assistant?”

You swallowed a gasp when you saw how intently he was staring. All you managed was a nod, all the air ripped from the room. You walked around to where you could better see him, situating at the edge of his desk. He rolled back in his chair, creating an additional foot of distance between you. 

“This conversation could be uncomfortable. Are you confident you don’t want a mediator?”

Professor Wayne looked strung-out—no, tightly wound, about to break. Your stomach launched into your throat. “I’m confident.” Get it over with. Rip the bandaid off.

He held your tense gaze like a promise. “Feel free to leave at any point.” 

What the fuck? You shifted your weight to your back leg, grinding your teeth together, body trying to metabolize the suspense in any way it could. What were you supposed to say to that?

“If you’re already uncomfortable,”

“Tell me.” You snapped louder than you meant to, and your ears got hot. You could barely handle a week without knowing, and another minute when he was so close was unthinkable. 

He didn’t break eye contact. Like it was an obligation he didn’t so much as blink. Shallow breaths were interrupted by longer, slower ones, like he was intentionally trying to calm himself. Your hands began to tingle. “In the effort of transparency…”

The pressure in the room changed. No idea what he was about to say, but knowing undeniably that whatever it was, the hammer was about to drop, and hard. Tears stung your lashes. For a split second you considered backing out. Telling him it was okay, that you’d accept not knowing, because your heart began to hammer painfully against your ribs. 

“As I was prepping our last meeting for 505, and through no fault of your own,” he emphasized those words like his life depended on it. “I realized I had developed an attraction to you.” 

It didn’t compute immediately, but your body caught on before anything else. Your shoulders relaxed, vision blurred, but your mind spun like he’d spoken gibberish. 

“With only a single session remaining, I considered early termination too disruptive to your education. After our final meeting, I blocked you from registering for any of my courses and sought to limit all future interactions were they to occur despite the registration block.” Professor Wayne stood then, tucking both hands into his pockets. His stare faltered, briefly, then trailed back. 

Attracted? To you? Bruce Wayne? Your professor? 

“I completely understand if this taints your experience of my courses, and I want to assure you that until the very end of Winter term, I was entirely unaware of my feelings.” 

That was why he didn’t walk you out. Holy shit. 

“I am taking extra steps to ensure this is never recreated with another student. Booking the classroom rather than the isolated setting of an office, and working with the English department to approve a second student per mentorship hour.” 

You placed your hand on the desk to steady yourself, rapidly becoming dizzy. Everything flooded you: the way he looked at you when he sat back in his office, the crinkle in his eyes, and the way he’d looked exasperated when you’d wanted him to sign the override. 

“I am very sorry. I did not want to leave you in the dark, and I apologize for any grief my distancing has caused. If you would like to file a report, you are welcome to.” 

This snapped you out of your reverie. “Why would I report you?”

He looked confused. “If you ever felt or feel uncomfortable, or if you’d like to talk to someone about it. I know this is unexpected and unsettling.”

“You said you didn’t know.” 

“I was not cognizant of the disparities in how I treated you versus other students. I rationalized casual conversation in an intimate environment. It is unacceptable, wildly inappropriate, and I am sorry.” 

If he thought this was ‘wildly inappropriate’, he’d go to an early grave looking at your daydreams. 

You peered at him just as he released a massive breath. A defiant part of you crept in: you’d tried so hard to hide your crush, done everything in your power, held back sighs as his hand gripped his pens, the edge of his desk, not fixing your stare too long at the ripple in his shirt when he moved, ensured you didn’t linger on his lips when this whole time… 

You were angry. At him for not just telling you that last day, and at yourself for thinking he was so impossibly out of reach. 

“You’re right,” you crooned. “Can you pull up the report form, please?” 

“Absolutely.” He stepped to his monitor and typed something onto the screen. “For consent purposes,”

“Consent?” You placed your hand on the edge of his desk, leaning just a tad closer. 

“Yes,” he continued, pausing only a split second. “The dean receives all reports of misconduct; if they deem the transgression severe enough, they will contact the local branch of the department of education to discuss further action.” He clicked the mouse around, eyes poring over the screen. “Those are the individuals who will have access to your report, but they are bound to confidentiality outside of the chain of command. I will not be able to read what you write.”  

“You seem familiar with this process.” 

“It’s important to know all resources to ensure student success.” He tilted the screen to you.

“Could’ve sworn I read that line in the student handbook.” So clinical, and why? Moving and speaking like a robot. Efficient, streamlined, tight. What might get him to unravel? 

“Do you want me to email you a copy?” 

“It’s quite virtuous of you to confess those feelings, Professor. Could cause trouble.”

“With how it’s affected you, you have a right to know.” Matter-of-fact. Plain. Heavily restrained. You gnawed on the inside of your cheek, a thin veil concealing your frustrations. A small tear in the membrane that would forever close if you didn’t pry it open right now.

“Before I go,” like hell you were leaving. “I’m still a little confused about the report. It’s not like we acted on our feelings.”

“Filing a report is available if you’re experiencing discomfort, irrelevant to action.” 

When you thought he’d fully skipped over the casual confession, his brow furrowed, then settled. He kept strictly to himself, and you could’ve stomped your feet like a toddler at how professional he was behaving. Clinical! Sterile! Bland! Blah! Push it. Push it! 

“It’s not like you fantasize about it, right?” God, even saying the word felt salacious in his presence. And the way you lit up when an edge finally crept into his voice… whew. Who knew frustration could make someone so brave? 

“Is there anything else you need?”

You could tell the instant it left his mouth he regretted it. He squeezed his eyes shut and his lips pressed into a thin line. Visibly showing distress? He was cracking. A perfect slot. An opening.

“It just feels unethical.”

He looked at you. 

“For a student to be punished for her professor’s feelings.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Your stomach flipped. “I can’t have you in my class.”

“Because I’m too distracting? Can’t control yourself?” 

“Control and distraction aren’t concerns.”

“Then what’s the issue?” Back to square one. Bickering. The only way you could stop from vibrating at the realization that Professor Wayne probably wanted to fuck you. The only way to keep your heart at a halfway decent pace. 

“It’s inappropriate and unfair to you.”

“Why do you get to decide what’s fair?”

“You’re my student.”

Could he feel the heat emanating off your cheeks? “I’m your assistant.”

“I’m in a position of power.”

“Wouldn’t you be anyway, Bruce Wayne?”

You made a point to emphasize his full name, drive home the things you weren’t saying. He was smart as a whip, and would undoubtedly pick up on the subtext.

“This is different. You know that.” 

Firm. A bit… annoyed? Were you losing him? Pulling him in? You pivoted. “Can I see the form again?”

You set your phone on the desk and walked closer, leaning toward the screen to read. Falsification of Credentials, Plagiarism, Unauthorized Recording, Discrimination, Sexual Misconduct, Other. 

His mouse was weighty as it glided across the smooth grain. Click. A drop down menu appeared.

“Inappropriate remarks? Sexual advances? Unwanted touching?” You mused aloud. “None of these fit.”

Buying time or trying to drive home the point, you couldn’t tease out why you were pretending to stare soo intensely at the document. His presence behind you was warm and inviting, and you clenched your ab muscles to keep from spinning on your heel and falling into his chest. 

“Inappropriate remarks.” 

You pouted, feigning serious thought. “No, doesn’t track.”

“If you don’t want to make a report, you don’t have to. But it’s available if you do.”

“Do you want to be reported, Professor?”

Each time you said it, you swore he looked like he wanted to tell you to stop. Especially now, as you peeked at him over your shoulder. 

“I want whatever keeps my students safe and comfortable.”

“You’re really hung up on that.” Fuck the pleasantries. You pushed his setup forward, the mouse accidentally clicking Other in the process, and turned to face him. You gripped the desk behind you, lifting your ass just onto the edge. “The teacher-student thing.”

“As I should be.”

“I am, too.” 

“Please get off my desk.”

“So polite.” You pulled yourself further onto his desk until you were fully off the ground. “I imagined you’d be demanding.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, weakly.

“Want me to confess, Professor?” It felt so freeing to act without a care in the goddamn world. Your pulse rocketed, feeling the heavy wood beneath you supporting your newfound bravery. “All the fantasies I’ve had about you?”

“Don’t say that.”

“You don’t want to know?” You tapped his thigh with your shoe, and nearly screamed at how dense he was. This was the perfect height to take all of him in; the shoulders, the arms, the hair that just wouldn’t stay tucked behind his ears, and the—oh. 

“Stop calling me that.” His voice was hoarse and whisper-quiet.

“What else should I call you?”

His breath came out in a tight, audible sigh. “This isn’t appropriate.”

“Neither is crushing on a student, but here we are.”

While he’d said it first, you said it blatantly. He looked at the floor, ashamed. A jolt of care cinched your chest, seeing so plainly how affected he was. 

“I’m trying to make it right.”

Atonement for his sins, when he hadn’t made any yet. When you wanted this. Wanted him. Needed him. You called him out. “You’re trying to relieve guilt.” 

Double-blink, again. You caught another tell like a precious stone and tucked it into your pocket for safekeeping. He had nothing to feel guilty for. Fucking nothing. 

“Guilt about wanting to fuck me.”

It might be cruel, but teasing such a considerate and harrowed man was titillating. Maybe it would drive home your point. “Because how despicable is it…” you reached out to grip a fold in his shirt, pulling him closer. He didn’t resist. “For the ethics professor to stare at the short little skirt of his mentee...”

He swallowed thickly, and you noticed how dilated his pupils were. It sent a shot of lightning up your spine. Your fingers caught on a button halfway down his chest. “Y/n…”

You moved his hand under your skirt. “Thinking of laying her across his desk, hiking it up,”

“I can’t…”

Pulled his warm hand between your thighs. “How I might say your name when—”

“Please,”

“Stop?” You paused, removing your hand to hover above his. He didn’t move away, but his face twisted like he was in pain.

A critical point. You suspended the act and let your lust speak for itself. Transparency. “I’ve wanted this for months. So, so badly.” Your hand fell flat to the desk as you shifted your hips. “So if you want me, here I am.”

It took a second to compute it, but he leaned in. Inching closer, slowly, far too slowly, and it hit you like a freight train when his hand began to trail up your thigh. You bit back a sigh, desperate not to scare him off, but yearning to show how much you needed him. He’d never been this close.

The room held a weighted silence. You couldn’t feel yourself breathe as your fingers curled around the waistband of his slacks. The heat of his breath against your lips invoked a warm summer breeze. Your mouth parted, legs spreading incrementally wider as his finger gently pulled back your underwear. 

Closer.

Both hands traveled to his button, unfastening it with a held breath. A quarter past the loop. Half. The tension released between your fingers as his brows knit together with need.

Professor Wayne slammed back, spinning the chair out behind him. “I can’t. You’re my student.”

It was dizzying how fast he’d yanked away from you. Through slow, regulating blinks, you caught glimpses of his hands in his hair, his shoulders rolling back, and rebuttoning his pants. 

Was Adriana still logged in on your phone?

You reached to the other end of the desk and grabbed it, mistyping your passcode in your fluster. The page loaded swiftly and before you could overthink it, you hit DROP COURSE — SUBMIT.

You flipped it for him to read the confirmation. “Not anymore.” 

The phone’s light highlighted a war breaking out in his thoughts. His teeth pressed indents into his lower lip as he hesitated, glancing from the phone back to you. You pulled it back. Pushed it behind you. And let out a small, needy sigh. 

Throbbing desire pooled between your legs as he took a step forward. Yes. His eyes lowered to your jaw, your chest, then your legs. His breathing sped up. Yes. You rested back on your elbows, looking up with doe eyes. 

Professor Wayne turned away, and you nearly tried to grab him, but he was already out of reach. You didn’t have to watch to see that he was leaving.

Fuck.

You slid off the desk and your shoulders caved in, fighting rejection’s bitter current from pulling you under. Crying could come when you were home in bed; when you could have the real Adriana make you some food, throw some random movie on her phone, and help you forget about this embarrassing attempt at throwing yourself at him.

The whiteboard was cool on your arm as you leaned against it. Your wrist smudged the line he’d drawn. Waves of disappointment were getting increasingly difficult to manage. 

Click.

Through bleary eyes you saw him switch the lock on the door. Panels of LEDs drew dimmer. 

He looked behind and made direct eye contact, his stormy and deep. He walked long, quick strides. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,”

Before another thought could form, Professor Wayne had your arms pinned above your head. You’d only realized he’d started kissing you when the taste of coffee hit your tongue. Holy fucking shit. 

He was so unbelievably dense and all you wanted to do was feel it. You wanted to grab him, wrap yourself around his waist, but you were pinned to the whiteboard with his hands, hips, and kisses. He groaned into your mouth, and you broke a hand free to grasp at his jaw. 

You had to make sure this was real; you pressed firmer against him, almost gnashing teeth. He released his grip on your wrist to follow your lead, cupping your face with both hands. The warmth of his fingers made you gasp. 

“Please,” you whined, terrified he’d end this before you got what you desperately wanted. 

“Please what?” Gone was his hesitance, his questions and rumination. The slight huskiness made your knees weak.

Words failed you as wet kisses found the nape of your neck. You slammed his hand from your cheek and put it up your skirt. His fingers made quick work of shifting your panties out of the way, straightening your spine like a rod as his fingers dragged up, then down.

His fingers teased your entrance, and your eyes snapped open when he didn’t push in. You grabbed fistfuls of his hair while he kissed his way to your ear, the slight skip of stubble across your hot skin giving you goosebumps. 

Up, down… he slipped the tip of his finger inside. You bit your cheek at the tease. “Is this what you want?”

You nodded, gripping his shoulder to pull him in. 

“Use your words.”

Your heart raced to a fever pitch. It took you a minute to find them, still thrown this was even happening. “I need you.”

“I know, Y/n.” Your breathing hitched like you’d never heard your own name. His breath was hot against your ear. “Where do you need me?”

“Inside,” you gasped, and your nails dug into his shoulder as he stretched you out. “Fuck!”

He swallowed your moans with another kiss. His cologne wrapped you in a tourniquet, making your breathing ragged and vision shake with every plunge of his fingers. As if you weren’t already melting, his teeth snagged your bottom lip, the sting making you tense, amplifying the sensations. 

“This skirt…”

“Mmm,” 

His fingers curled inside you and you lurched forward, letting out a noise so pathetic you would’ve been embarrassed if you had a single brain cell that wasn’t being fucked silly. 

“Your moans,” he made a pleading sound. “You’re so ready for me.”

“I am,” you managed, tension slowly building in your core. Puffy, and slick, and needy, so fucking needy, his fingers felt divine, oh, my god… fuck, god…

“I need to feel you.” 

He hooked your legs around his waist and held you mid-air like it was nothing; like he didn’t spend his days lecturing and grading papers behind a desk, like he did this all the time.

Desk. He set you down carefully, but that was the last of his restraint. Sweeping arms knocked the carefully-set papers and pens across the floor with a crash. He caught the back of your head in his hand before it hit the monitor, and pulled you in for a rough kiss. 

“Oh my god, please, please.” Desire pulsed throughout your body, lit up like a live wire, watching him undo his zipper. You surged forward and practically tore off his dress shirt, ripping at the buttons with a singular focus. Each inch of skin exposed ratcheted it up a notch until you swore you weren’t breathing. 

He pulled his slacks down to his calves, then his boxers, and you paused before the last button to gawk. Better than you imagined…

A sharp inhale accompanied him pulling the shirt over his head, and you saw stars at his mussed hair. “Professor…”

“Lay back for me, baby.” 

You followed the orders of his hand splayed out atop your stomach, guiding you back with a gentle press. The nickname rang in your ears. 

Professor Wayne’s hand slid from your stomach past your skirt, dipping between your thighs once more. His wrist nudged your legs apart, and you watched his eyes drop to your pussy.

“Perfect.” His thumb skimmed your clit, making you jump. His brow furrowed, and he stalled, the weight of his fingers pressing against you, hesitant to let himself give in. 

“It’s okay. I want this, I want you, please, please, please,” you didn’t care about begging; not when he looked like this. Not when he was hard as a rock, his toned skin glistening, his hair hanging just barely over his eyes. “I’m on the pill. Just fuck me.”

His sigh was deep and resigned, like he’d finally accepted this. His breathing sped up. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes!”

He slapped his dick against your clit, and your hands clenched to reign yourself in. His head teased your pussy, pushing in just enough to make your head fall back, but never further. 

“Right here?”

A little deeper.

“On my desk?”

Not enough. All of it. All of him.

You wrapped your legs around him and pulled him in hard, making him groan and his hands fall to either side of you. His lashes fluttered as you moved your hips up and down, covering your mouth to muffle the high-pitched moans at feeling him fill you so fully. 

“Fuck, so fucking wet,” he gasped, effortlessly matching your tempo. His strokes were rhythmic, and he stared in awe at you sliding up and down his shaft with total ease. 

“All for you,” it was getting harder and harder to speak. His biceps, triceps, deltoids, shit, he was thick, tight, strong.

“All for your professor?”

“All for my fucking professor, fuck, faster,” 

“Christ,”

“Harder, harder, mhm—” 

Your back arched as his hips started snapping into you. You’d worship this desk when you finished—the height, the angle, the dull, quivering pleasure of him hitting that soft, perfect spot… You lost yourself in his thrusts. 

He moved his hand to your clit and sped up, cursing under his breath. Indents of the side of the desk dug into your palms as you strangled it. Holy shit, shit, shit…! You writhed, clawing at his chest, brain going offline.

“Good job. There you go…” 

Your body throbbed, abdomen clenching, head spinning. He grinned, and you descended from the clouds. 

He slowed down, and you must’ve shown the disappointment on your face because he picked up the pace. “You want more?”

“I want you to cum in me.”

His eyes flashed with surprise, and fuck, you could’ve orgasmed again. His cheeks bloomed red from blushing, and he slowed to a stop. “Are you sure?”

You were still coming down from the high, but you never thought he’d even kiss you, let alone this. When you said it, you expected him to turn it down immediately; so now it was on the table, you were certain you’d never wanted anything more. After half a year spent under the covers dreaming of him alone, your reward would be this.

Breathy streams of yes, of I mean it, of tugging at his shoulders, of his hands roaming under your shirt. He unclipped your bra, and your nipples pebbled between his deft fingers. The wet noises of his cock driving in and out of you mingled with the echoes of his moans filling the lecture hall. Cries of how good you felt, how close he was, and you memorized every syllable like you’d die otherwise.

Professor Wayne had snags and scars across his torso, but you couldn’t get a good look as he shook your body with the force of his delicious strokes, fuck. Your body never wanted to release him, but you could tell he was closer than he let on; the want etched between his brows, the slight stutter in his hips, how ragged his breathing had become. 

His blue eyes zeroed in on yours, intensely focused. You knew the words before they fell out of his beautiful, slacked mouth. “I’m gonna cum,” 

The monitor’s glow illuminated his face as he started to peak; his eyes fluttered shut, his staggered thrusts making you whimper. Before you could tell him to fill you up, coax him through it, a pitchy groan fell from his lips. He slammed his hand on the desk for balance as he folded forward, nearly collapsing his heaving body on top of you. 

Warm, quick breaths painted your cheeks as you felt his cock twitch inside of you, strong and steady, the polar opposite of the picture in front of you. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and where you touched his body left temporary prints of lightness. 

You locked eyes then. Seconds slowed to minutes as you soaked up the moment, blissfully sated, patiently scanning his face for any sign of regret. 

Sharp jingles of keys startled you from the other side of the door, catching Professor Wayne’s attention. No. Oh no. You tried to scramble up, preparing for him to be mad at the close call. Hopefully it’d be a close call, and not—

“It’s alright.” He looked away from the door and pressed a tender, reverent kiss to your lips. “Janitor unlocks all the doors in this hallway at the same time. Opens mine last for cleaning.”

“Oh,” was all you could muster. He slowly pulled out, your pussy aching at the loss. You already wanted him again. 

Still catching his breath, he opened a drawer and got some tissues. “Let me clean you up.”

His aftercare was so sweet it felt like foreplay. Gentle swipes on your inner thigh, attentive eyes roaming for misses. Now that he was more or less static, you got a better look at his torso; it kept you from looking at the arc of his hands moving along your legs and his ‘just fucked’ face. The marks looked menacing and violent. A bruise was in the final stages of healing just above his navel. 

“Where are those from?”

He disposed of a tissue wrapped inside another, then pulled up his slacks. He answered as he pulled up their zipper. “Motorcycle accident.” 

You sat up, straightening your shirt to look put together, and smoothed the skirt down your thighs. He shrugged on his shirt, making quick work of the buttons. You knew what his fingers felt like. What he felt like. What he sounded like. Your face heated. Adriana might give you an earful when you got back, but you’d have this memory no matter what. No matter if this was the last time. No matter if it happened over and over again. 

Keys jingled closer. You didn’t trust it.

Without anything left on the desk besides, you pointed at a random part of his computer screen, pretending to have a question like it wasn’t the report form. He stood beside you with his hands on his hips, feigning interest.

“Sorry Bruce. Lock stuck.”

A short man with sandy blonde hair accidentally pushed the door open, the end of his mop poking into the classroom. Could he tell you’d just fucked? Could he hear any of it?

“No worries, Henry.” 

Henry went to leave, and you released the breath you were holding. 

“Actually, I’ll start here if you don’t mind. Marshall didn’t have class today.”

Professor Wayne glanced at you. It felt like checking in, asking permission, and you nodded. His voice was more than back to its usual refinement. “Sure.”

You gathered your folio, its innocence intoxicating. In no universe had you thought the plan would work. Now the evidence of him was sticky on your skin and panties.

Henry began by emptying the trash at the front door, forcing you coy. 

“Thanks for the help, Professor Wayne.”

“My pleasure.”

His eyes sparkled, and you commended yourself for stringing together words in their wake. “Are you available to meet later in the term?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, and took a full breath. “Just let me know when you need my help.”

You smiled at the ground and walked out the far door, bidding him goodnight. Henry said something to him about a vacuum, and you pressed out into the hallway, cutting to a back exit. 

Fresh evening air cooled your lungs and the rain soothed your scorching skin. Professor Wayne. You traced your sore lips with the tip of your finger, and laughed as you waited at the crosswalk. 

The taste of coffee held you all the way home.

taglist: @noisylime @serynstorylover @crayzmarvelfan800 @dreamer7black @sad-ghouls @smellingbats @eddiew-k @kha0sblossom @omithemonki @badbishsblog

[parker-artio]

So I’ve said it a couple times, but I come from a huge family, which is mostly foster family. But I’m from a small town and live in a five bedroom house (one for my mom, one for my brothers, one for my younger sisters, one for my older sister since she’s 18 and can’t share a room w/ foster kids, then mine.)

But rooms aren’t anyone’s hiding spots- Yk what I mean, when you need to destress and get away from everyone but your room is too obvious- so, it got me thinking.

The Wayne manor is massive, all of the bat kids definitely all have that spot. The hiding spot.

So here’s what I think all of them are!

Dick: He had three. The one he lets everyone know about, the one he only lets his siblings know about, and his secret one. He trusts them to only come annoy him in the first one, because he only ever uses it when he crashes out (it’s his best past-time). This one I think would be an ‘on the nose’ place, like his bedroom closet, in the ceilings, on a random chandelier, on the roof, somewhere where they would think to look (they being Bruce and the other adults.) The second is more likely a not so obvious place, but everyone would consider thinking about it. Like, the guest room next to his room- but not just the room, like the closet, or under the bed in there, maybe the shed in the backyard. But his place- the place he tells no one about, that’s the attic. He’ll go up there and hide under and behind a fortress of boxes and pillows and blankets he’s slowly added to since he was 9. No one questions when he goes into the laundry room with a full tote of blankets and pillows or carry’s around cleaning supplies upstairs.

Cass: She hides in the pool house. No one knows. No one finds out.

Jason: When Dick told him about his hiding spot(s) he immediately scoured the library for a hidden spot, his logic was: it’s an old house, there’s gotta be a hidden room somewhere, right? And there was. So when he disappears into the library for three hours and someone goes in after him and doesn’t find him anywhere, they assume he’s escaped through the library in the window.

Tim: He grew up in an old house, he knows all of the hiding spots. Which is how he knew there was a hidden door under the left stairs that led to a panic room, which’s he’s officially transformed into a safe haven, and no one but him can get into or out of. He’s gotta pad lock with a code he can’t even remember. Good thing for patterns.

Duke: When he moved into his room (pretend Bruce is fostering him and he doesn’t live w/ his cousin okay?) He always heard a weird sound coming from his closet. At first he thought it was haunted and refused to put anything in there, but one day when it actually happened during the day and not at night he decided to inspect it, and found a small vent, just big enough for him to crawl through. He obviously went into it, he found himself in a small room where all of the vents connected, just above the batcave- which is where the noise came from. He added a few battery powered fairy string lights, and a small beanbag with a blanket and chair.

Damian: He insists he doesn’t need one despite everyone saying it would be beneficial. But if anyone claims when he goes missing for hours when the barn lights are on, he denies it all. But as he gets older, he doesn’t keep hiding the fact that the barns his hidden space- and a room where he hides the animals from Bruce when he first smuggles them into the house. But no one knows where that is.

BONUS:

Barbara: She used to have a hiding spot in one of the many hidden cliffs in the batcave where she has a very nice fluffy pillow and her baby blanket with a fluffy blanket to accompany it. Her backup-laptop a very strong charger, and a couple books for her college classes. But she can’t get up there, so it’s kinda a hidden relic stuck in time. Now she hides in an unused room back by the back door with enough space for her to move around in her wheelchair, but no one knows where it is.

Steph: She went into the batcave once and saw a door that was labeled ‘Batman only’ so obviously she went inside. The room was empty beside a small door and the shelves of backup generators. So obviously she went into the small door and found herself in a small cozy dark room. She’s managed to decorate it like her room, and even put a lock that can only be opened by her phone. Bruce definitely noticed the room was tampered with when he went to go get a generator, but he didn’t ask about it. He knows everyone has a hiding spot.

Harper: She doesn’t have a place, but she will go into the upstairs bathroom next to the upstairs living room and lock the door and sit in the tub. It’s very therapeutic.

Luke: He’s not at the manor or batcave enough to have a hiding spot, but at his mom and dads he’s got a small section of the basement where he terraformed into a small ‘man cave’ but in actuality he just sits in there on the gaming chair he took from his sister and listens to music or relaxes.

That’s everyone I can think of right now, I might add other characters in a pt. 2? Like maybe Maps, Tiffany, Kate, ect.

[glitter-stained]

As someone who is very much not well-versed in medical things/psychology, I have no idea how to research this efficiently, so, would you say that Jason would in any way benefit from being on some sort of medication, like anti-depressants or something like that? Not in a way of "oooh that would fix him and make him not murderous" or whatever, but to improve some of the very clear mental health issues that affect him in his day-to-day life, first and foremost.

Oh I love that one! Answering quickly for once because I've already dissected it in my head

Fuck yeah he would benefit from medication. Of course, I'm neither a psychiatrist nor a pharmacist, but I did have classes on neuropharmacology and it was one of my favourite things to study, so I'm confident I'm not saying random shit but if someone in there

So- of course, it depends on the era, but there are three molecules I'd consider useful for him :

> Rebirth Jason:

-sertralin

> any and all Jasons:

- lamotrigin

-propanolol

Sertralin

So, the antidepressants. Basically, sertralin is an SSRI, which means it works by altering your brain chemistry to heighten the chances that your neurons will get the possibility to transmit serotonin, a neurotransmitter (brain molecule) that is linked with happiness (very very basically. Please don't misunderstand this as "sertralin/serotonin makes you happy".) I'll admit I haven't read enough of rebirth Jason to establish whether he fits the criteria for a characterized depressive episode rather, but he already displays, at minima, subclinical signs of depression. One reason why I don't need to wait for an established diagnosis to say I think trying out antidepressants would be a good idea is that Jason is suicidal as fuck (has made several attempts on his life + documented suicidal ideation... and at least according to Bruce) has been for a very long time.) This makes it a total emergency.

Now if we're considering post Gotham war Rebirth Jason, this guy has an anxiety disorder (like, I wish Batman #148 had shown Jason abusing benzos so bad.) The thing is, Joker might have made Jason "functional" enough not to be paralyzed by fear in Man Who Stopped Laughing (and hey! Laughter is a good strategy to regulate anxiety. Thanks, Joker.), but that is very much not enough: as Joker says, Jason still feels that anxiety, he's just not having outwards panic attacks about it. The thing with anxiety (aside from the risks of such extreme chronic stress) is that 1) some SSRI, like sertralin, have a positive effect on symptoms and 2) if untreated, it very often leads to depressive symptomatology (kinda like fatigue from all the stress). All of this to say if a patient has anxiety, in my country it's recommended to give them antidepressants, both to soothe the anxiety and to decrease the risk of developing depression. So yeah, I would definitely give him antidepressants!!

Lamotrigin

Listen.

Listen. I know what you're thinking. "Why would you recommend giving Jason an anti-epileptic? He doesn't have epilepsy." He doesn't. Stay with me.

So, lamotrigin is originally an anti-epileptic. However they realized that using smaller doses could make it into a thymoregulator for bipolar disorder (I and II). Now, a thymoregulator is a medicine that people with bipolar take to regulate their emotions. Bipolar disorders are characterized by three phases: mania(or hypomania), depressive phase, and euthymia. Mania (or hypomania) is characterized by elevated mood and/or agressivity (though the most characteristic of mania is still elation/euphoria) that can be associated with overestimation of abilities, augmentation of risk taking, sometimes psychotic symptoms (such as grandiose delusions, etc.) Depressive phases are the symptoms of a characterized depressive episode, but in the context of bipolar (they're often very severe, and can sometimes take on melancholic and/or psychotic characteristics). They're not rapid mood swings: manic and depressive episodes can sometimes last weeks. And then there is euthymia, which is "normal, non-pathologic mood". So basically, your mood is a spectrum from "so high it's harmful and dangerous to you" to "so low it's harmful and dangerous to you", with euthymia in the middle as "neither too high nor too low". The goal of thymoregulators like lamotrigin is to keep the patient in euthymia. That doesn't mean that the person will never feel sad or happy, this isn't a mood dampener: it's just that they won't have to leave with the fear that every stressor or sad moment will send them spiralling in a depressive episode, or that they have to be careful not to feel too much joy in case in tumbles into euphoria. It's just a way to compensate the chemical dysfunction in the brain that makes it so incredibly hard and painful to emotionally regulate.

Now, as we said, mood is a spectrum, and in bipolar, it's like you're swinging from one end of the spectrum to the other. But it's not perfectly symetrical, not for everyone. For example, you can have one patient who has very high mania and severe depressive episodes, but you could also have patients with high mania and less severe depressive symptoms, or patients with severe depressive symptoms and hypomania rather than mania. This is why we need different types of thymoregulators! Each thymoregulator's effect span can be situated on the mood spectrum. For example, lithium works best for patients where there's a symetrical dysregulation (so the mood goes about as high in the maniac phase as it goes low in the depression phase), and lamotrigin works best with patients whose disorder tends more towards the lower end of the mood spectrum (ie patients with very severe depressive episodes and whose high episodes tend more towards hypomania. (That's classically what we get with cohort studies, but of course every patient is unique! This is why it sometimes takes many tries before finding A) the right molecule for the patient and B) the right dosage for the molecule, which requires evaluating and re-evaluating with the psychiatrist as the treatment is established, blood draws to figure out absorption etc... It's a very careful balance to find.)

Now, it's a hc I've seen a bunch, but I don't personally hc Jason as having a bipolar disorder. So why do I think lamo could help him?

As we've seen, lamo's job is basically to help regulate negative emotions. To which, someone had the brilliant idea to realise hey, there are other disorders in which there are major issues with regulating negative emotions because of alterations to brain chemistry, one of the best-known being PTSD! So they conducted studies and it turns out, some thymoregulators (including lamo), in lower doses than those used in treatment for bipolar, are efficient in supporting emotional regulation in PTSD! It's pretty recent, but professionals have started to prescribe those thymoregulators to people with PTSD, and I for one think it's really really cool (partially because research in ptsd is doing amazing rn, and partially because my doctor decided i had enough trauma to qualify for prescribing lamo- i didn't necessarily agree with him, but of all the medication I've been prescribed it's the one that helped the most and I'm really really happy about it.) So with all of that said, I hope it makes sense why Jason, whose brand of complex PTSD (which is imo clearly associated with negative emotional dysregulation) might benefit from lamotrigin or a similar thymoregulator.

[thebigbadbatswife]

Wonderstruck

Pairing(s): Diana of Themyscira x F!Reader

Summary - Bruce introduces you, his oldest friend, to the one superhero friend of his that you haven’t met yet.

Warnings - First meetings. Reader has social anxiety. Fluff. Humour. Bisexual!Reader.

Word Count - 1.5k

“Are you sure about this, Bruce?” you ask, looking yourself over in the mirror, frowning. You’re still unsure about the outfit you have picked out for the party tonight. “It’s been forever since I’ve been to one of these things.”

Bruce chuckles and gently pulls you away from the mirror, turning you to face him. “You look great and keep in mind this isn’t a fancy party filled with upper class dickheads. Just friends and family.” 

You know that he’s right. This is supposed to be a more laid back type of party. Even his outfit is laidback. A black shirt and slacks instead of the usually suit and tie. It hasn’t stopped you from working yourself up though. Your palms are sweaty and your heart is thumping hard against your ribcage. Already your mind has conjured up and played out a bunch of scenarios. Each one going worse than the last one. It’s more than enough to make you feel like running back to the safety of your room.

Being one of your oldest friends, and therefore knowing you the best, Bruce can see every little sign of your anxiety building up and threatening to consume you. The rough feeling of his calloused thumb against your cheek helps with grounding you. 

“Breathe,” he reminds you. “Everything will be fine. You do know most of them.”

“Except for the one you seem most excited for me to meet,” you reply. 

“I just think that the two of you will hit if off,” he shrugs. 

“So you’re playing matchmaker now? What, did you get bored of your cowl?”

“Everyone needs a hobby.” He links his arm with yours and begins to lead you toward the manor’s garden, where everyone else is. “Besides, if you really do start to panic you know that either I or Selina will step in and whisk you away to a quiet room.”

“I know and I’m so grateful to the both of you for that.”

Since your diagnosis, the both of them have gone above and beyond to make sure that you feel safe and supported whilst you seek help and figure out how to manage it. Even being miles away from them, you haven’t been left to feel like you’re all alone. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to repay them for all everything they’ve done for you.

Before you know it, you and Bruce have reached the doors to the garden. They’re wide open, letting the summer air into the manor and you could easily hear the conversations going on. Taking a deep breath, you let him lead you outside. 

He’s right. You do recognise almost everyone and they recognize you, despite the fact that it’s been a few years since you last saw any of them. Barry gives you a toothy grin and waves while the rest take a more reserved approach. A smile here or a small gesture of their hand or head there. Doing their best to not overwhelm you. 

“I’m glad you decided to come,” Selina says as she pulls you away from Bruce and into a hug. You hug her back. Thankful to see your other old friend after so long.

“It’s good to see you, Selina.” 

She smiles at you as she pulls away. “Diana’s over there.”

“Thank you,” Bruce tells her. He leans in close and presses a kiss to her lips. You’re glad that the two of them finally stopped dancing around their feelings and actually got together. They deserve to be happy. Though that very thing is probably why Bruce is playing matchmaker with you right now. He wants you to be happy as well. Like he is.

While you have never met Diana, you have seen her on the tv and the web. Various news reports and footage that spreads across the internet every time that the Justice League stops some alien invasion or super villain attempting to take control of the world, again. In truth, you’ve always had a bit of a crush on her. Thing is you never thought anything would ever come of it until Bruce decided to start introducing you to aspects of his superhero life. Though, now that you think about it, you probably should have suspected something a month ago when he kept bringing her up. 

“Diana. This is…” Bruce introduces you to her. You feel your mouth go dry. She’s even more stunning in real life. Long black hair, the ends dip dyed blue, a red tank, blue jeans and her silver bracelets.

“Hi,” you just about manage, hating how pathetic you must sound. All you want is for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. At the same time, you know now that running away from everything constantly isn’t a way to live.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she says. “Bruce has told me a lot about you.” 

“Same here,” you reply. 

You both side eye Bruce, who’s doing his best to act completely innocent, like he hasn’t been planning this meeting for ages, but his act is completely transparent. Before either you or Diana can say something, there’s a loud crash. You all turn to where his two eldest sons are suppose to be helping Alfred with setting up the grill, but only seem to be making an absolute mess of it. A long, drawn out and tired sounding sigh leaves Bruce as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“If you’ll excuse me.” 

You and Diana both chuckle as he walks away and both of his sons scatter when they seem him approaching. 

“So, Bruce is playing matchmaker now,” she says, drawing your attention back to her.

“Apparently. He’s happy so everyone else has to be as well. Which is better then him making everyone else miserable.” 

She nods in agreement. 

With the ice now broken, the conversation between the two of you flows easily. Bit by bit your anxiety slowly starts to dissipate and you are not over analysing every last thing that you say. Diana is completely intrigued by your job as a wildlife photographer and the various situations you have managed to get yourself into during your job. From close encounters with the very animals you’re photographing to poachers and trophy hunters. The mention of the latter two visibly angers her and you share her sentiment. They had not been fun encounters at all.

“And you got out of those situations unscathed?” she asks. 

“Mostly. Selina taught me how to defend myself while we were growing up on the streets,” you reply.

“And the men who attacked you? What happened to them?”

“Most of them are behind bars–” you gesture toward where Bruce and Selina are–“Their handiwork as soon as they found out what happened. They’re now trying to forbid me from travelling to the Amazon Rainforest because of it.”

“What if I was to come with you?”

Her offer takes you completely by surprise. You have only just met each other and she’s already offering to travel to a rainforest with you. A trip that’s bound to last a few weeks. 

“I’m sure that it would soothe any fears they have and it would be an opportunity for us to get to know each other without so many other people around,” she continues. “If you want me to join, of course. I don’t want to pressure you.”

“I mean, I’ve only ever gone with colleagues on these trips, but I think it could be a lot of fun if you came along. It would also stop Bruce from constantly blocking me from charting a flight.”

She nods. “It’s agreed then. We’ll go together.”

Afternoon quickly turns into evening and one by one the rest of the leaguers say their goodbyes and leave until it’s just you, Diana, Bruce and Selina. The four of you have long since come inside and have settled in one of the lounges. 

You decide that now is the perfect time to mention what you and her talked about earlier. As soon as you mention the rainforest you can see Bruce visible tense until you say that Diana has offered to come with you. He relaxes at that and even looks a little smug. Sometimes you could really deck him, but you would really rather not break your hand on his face again. 

“It was an absolutely pleasure to meet you,” Diana says. The two of you are standing outside of the manor to say your goodbyes. It’s got quite late and your social battery is so drained you’re ready to curl up in bed and never leave it ever again.

“Same here. I’m glad that Bruce managed to talk me into coming today.” 

“As am I. You’ll text me the details?”

“Yeah. ‘Course.”

You wave goodbye to her and watch until she reaches the end of the drive, then you’re turning away and heading back inside. Bruce is waiting for you, leaning against the bannister of the grand staircase, grinning.

“I told you the two of you would hit it off.” He sounds as smug as he looks.

“Oh, shut up.”

[smellingbats]

2. therefore i am  

⏾  professor! bruce wayne x student! reader 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

⏾ Last chapter

⏾ cw: 18+, slow burn, eventual smut, your professor is still hot…shocker, bruceiskindofadick, opposites attract

⏾ content: Your first meeting with Professor Wayne is off to a shaky start to say the least.  

⏾ eek! I'm so excited for all the notes from last weeks chapter!! Thank you guys so so much for reading my first fic!! I'll eventually post one-shots as well, but for now I'm focusing on this. If anyone has interest in being tagged when I update, let me know. I'd be glad to do that!

It has been a week since Professor Wayne offered you the extra credit opportunity, and let’s just say that the research aspect isn’t going great. But, here you still are. Obsessing over what today’s meeting will look like and obsessing over the way your dress looked. 

So stupid. You thought while you tugged your dress down to your sides. You figured it would be best to not dress in your usual attire. Which consisted mainly of whatever you dug out of your laundry pile that day. You give yourself one last look over and then glance at the time on your phone; it reads 2:07 PM. 

“SHIT, I’m gonna be late!” You grab your bag and rush out the door, double-checking that you locked it because the apartment building you lived in was not the safest of places. The streets on the other hand, were far worse by comparison. The roads were still pretty torn up with man-sized potholes and cracks that made them undriveable, the surrounding buildings looked like they could crumble at a gust of wind, and the garbage left behind from the flood covered the sidewalks entirely. You had been promised real change, but it would most likely take years before you saw a difference in Gotham. For now though, you could settle for the shitiness. It’s something you’ve known your entire life, so what’s the harm in a few more years of waiting?

You eventually make it onto the crowded subway and immediately put your earbuds in to drown out everyone around you. The noise on the subway is always just too damn much for you to handle. You grab your phone out of your backpack and hit play on your playlist, sighing softly as you hold your backpack close to you. There was no way that today's meeting would go well, especially with the lack of peer reviewed articles. So far you only found two that weren’t already in the stack of papers Professor Wayne gave you. You can only assume that he will find this unacceptable, so you have to do something to distract him from the fact that you totally blew it. 

Maybe I could just lie and say I had some more “stuff” come up this week so I couldn’t fully focus. No. You attended class all week, and besides he would probably see right through your lie. You haven’t personally experienced this, but he seemed to be the type. Like he could get anyone to cough up the truth with a simple look. 

The subway comes to a stop and you squeeze your way through people to get off at your stop. You hop off the platform and quickly make your way up the stairs and to the street towards your University. 

You eventually pass a cafe and come up with an even better plan. I’ll bring him coffee! Shit. I don’t know what he drinks…and I can’t email him either. He literally takes a million years to ever get back to anyone. You enter the shop and look at the time; 2:47. 13 minutes until you had to meet him. You knew you were cutting it close, but you couldn’t show up completely empty handed either. A peace offering of sorts would hopefully make him look past your fuck up. You glance up at the menu and panic after you realize you’re next in line.  I’ll go with a latte to be safe. Everyone likes those. You order and before you know it you’re out of the cafe with 8 minutes to spare. You’d make it in time if you ran and didn’t eat shit on the way over. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

2:59 PM. 

You made it on time! You’re huffing and puffing, and your hair is a mess but you made it. Before going in you are sure to make yourself presentable. You wouldn’t want the hottest professor on campus to see you look like a hot mess. He was too particular to settle for anything less than perfection. 

You shakily open the door, immediately feeling yourself overwhelmed with butterflies in your stomach and chest. Was this a terrible idea? Probably! But it was far too late to go back now. 

There sat Professor Wayne, perfectly composed as he leaned back in his chair reading today's newspaper. Gods, he even makes reading the paper look sexy. How can such a grandfatherly act look so perfect?! You shake away the thought, feeling slightly ashamed of how shamelessly you thought of him. He was your professor for heaven's sake! You glance at one of the headlines; WOMAN STABBED ON SUBWAY BETWEEN PARK AND 5TH BARELY ESCAPES WITH HER LIFE. Unfortunately, this was nothing new for the citizens of Gotham, especially the female presenting ones. You consider yourself lucky that you’ve never experienced anything too terrible on the subway. 

“(Y/N).” He glances at his watch and then back to you, his expression unreadable. “I almost thought you lost your way.” Professor Wayne folds the newspaper carefully and places it in its designated spot on his desk. 

You stand awkwardly for a second before setting down his latte, your heart exploding from anxiety. “Ha ha. Very funny. I am actually right on time sir.” 

He makes a disapproving tut and straightens his posture, staring straight into your eyes. “Early is on time, on time is late, and late is unacceptable.” 

Before you can help it, you involuntarily scowl. Now that was definitely something a grandpa would say.  “I was unaware of that rule. It won’t happen again.” Great, what a wonderful first impression you’ve made. Smooth move (y/n) smooth move. 

“Obviously.” Your professor wordlessly motions towards the seat in front of him, ignoring your scowl. 

You hadn’t noticed how bare his office was until today. He had no pictures, posters, or even one of the university's dumb infographics about getting therapy. You couldn’t imagine Professor Wayne in therapy. He’d probably spend the whole time with that smug look on his face. Ugh, his stupid handsome jawline with his stunning blue eyes. Not now, he’s literally standing right in front of me. Quickly, you take a seat in the tiny uncomfortable chair, making sure to push his latte directly in front of him. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be offended by the gesture. 

Professor Wayne’s eyes flicker to the latte, but only for a moment before they return to his now lit up monitor. He looked…unimpressed to say the least. “I don’t drink latte’s. But your gesture has been noted.” 

Dick.

Instead of letting him win this one, you give him your best fake smile and fish your tiny file out of your bag. “I know it’s not much, but I think I’m off to a good start Professor. I figured we’d go over the requirements for the paper itself. Like, the minimum amount of citations, the format, the length, and the content itself.” 

“If you expect that to take up most of our time today then you’re sorely mistaken.” Your professor states, still looking emotionless. “I have already assigned you the project on Canvas, did you not see it?” Fuck. “No, I’m sorry I didn’t see it. I swear I check-” “Take this time to look it over then, it’s alright.” He says with an almost caring look in his eyes, maybe a part of him did have some empathy. 

The next hour and a half is filled with many more awkward silences and more ‘quirky’ remarks from Professor Wayne. You're not convinced that you’ll even get a good grade on something that is literally for extra credit. The part of you that is hopeful that you may be able to pass is spurred on by your dirty little crush on him. Could you be more cliché? You kind of liked being in his inner bubble, even if he had built about five brick walls around himself. Maybe one day you’d be able to get a peek through one of them. Somewhere under that hard exterior is a person. But what kind of person? You were dying to know. 

After another long awkward silence, Professor Wayne’s voice interrupts your thoughts. “Let’s meet in one of the library’s study rooms next week. I’d like to show you how to do proper research. With a subject this new, you can’t get away with your research solely being from online articles. I will email you with more details within the next few days.”

You pause for a moment, realizing that this was your cue to get out of his office. “Alright. I will see you next week then. On time.” You add the last part while you finish packing up your things. 

When you look up again, you see the smallest smirk on the corner of his lips. “Have a good weekend Professor Wayne.” 

“You as well. Oh and (y/n).” You stop in your tracks and look over your shoulder in the doorway. 

“You did some good work today. Keep it up.” 

A small smile creeps across your face along with an ever so slight blush across the bridge of your nose. "Thank you Professor Wayne." Internally, your stomach was doing backflips. Another compliment? You could get used to this.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[jasmine-the-fox]

Saved by technology

azv2448 sent me a very... interesting request... let us all see how it goes yes?

Here we go!

Markov has been suspicious towards Lila Rossi since her first day. While her stories interested the class… Markov noticed she would never show pictures or videos or anything to confirm her stories at all.

Because of this Markov did the one thing no one who believed Lila’s stories ever did… research her online, he found nothing, in fact he only found Alya’s blog as a result on Lila in the end… which told him she was a liar in the end. He tried to inform Max of his research but his best friend and creator ignores him… and then Markov uncovers something horrible and cruel.

After a while, the little robot discovers that not only is the class bullying Marinette while accusing her of doing horrible things to Lila that were simply not true, but Adrien was also harassing her to force her to date him.

Markov knew that what they were all doing was wrong… but it was clear that they were all too blinded to care about it so he took it upon himself to record all of there actions… who harms her physically, mentally, who steals her things, who destroys her things and each time Marinette rejected Adrien and told him she already has a boyfriend… which angered Markov greatly.

For a whole week he records everything… once he believed he had enough… Markov decided to go one last time to Max “Max? Please listen to me… Lila Rossi has done nothing but lie 100% of the time she speaks to you! If you continue down this path you will be no better then Hawkmoth!” he pleaded… but Max instead shut him down “Lila was right. Markov was a failure, I’ll to redo the entire work for the next one so this doesn’t happen again” he says as he throws Markov out the window of his room.

He didn’t care that Tim Drake was walking by when Markov hit him on the head before he caught him “Huh? Isn’t this a little like the little robot Nettie spoke about?” he mumbled to himself before heading to Marinette’s place. When he arrived Mari wasn’t there… instead it was her parent’s and the Kent’s who greeted him before together they got Markov to turn on once more.

“Where am I? Wait… is the Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s parents’ bakery?” he asked making Sabine confirm it… Markov quickly began to tell them everything he knew… Damian and Jason sadly came over at that moment… and had to quickly be restrained from going out to “talk” to the class and Adrien.

Bruce who was there contacted his lawyers while Clark and Louise began talking with Markov to get the footage he collected for an entire week, it was then that Chloe ran into the bakery in a panic “Quick! It’s Mari!” she cried out just as Kagami and Luka brought in Marinette who was injured “What happened!?” Jon asked as they brought her up to the couch to be examined and treated.

“It was Adrien. He ran over to us as we were on our way back and asked to speak to Marinette alone. We moved a little away and heard him trying to pressure her into dating him, she rejected him of course… and then Adrien attacked her. We rushed over to help her and then rushed here” Kagami explained as they discovered that Mari’s injuries weren’t severe.

Tim began to work to look at the data in Markov for the footage and added his own work “I updated your coding with my own… it should protect you from anyone who might try to hack you to wipe everything” he explained making Markov thank him.

It takes a while, but Mari wakes up to Markov apologizing to her for not getting Max to see the truth about Lila, of course Mari forgives him and offers him to live in her home “It’s not perfect but I hope it’s alright” she explained and the robot agreed to the offer. Within a few days, Markov has greatly improved Mari’s life… she wakes up early, is able to schedule different commissions she needs to work on, is able to quickly what she’s running out of and many more things including helping her parents at the bakery.

Soon, Louise and Clark go public with the fact that Lila Rossi is a liar, Adrein harassing Marinette and the footage of everything the class has done to her. Chloe helped by getting the police involved to investigate the entire thing while Bruce makes sure his lawyers help where they can… of course though… there is chaos… in which case Lila once more becomes Volpina who claimed all of this was a lie.

“I have proof!” she claimed as Ladybug, Queen Bee, Ryuko, Viperion, Superman, Superboy and the entire Batfam appeared before her “You mean you have an illusion ready to lie your way out?” Red Hood said as Nightwing knocked her out and released her akuma so Ladybug could purify it… of course Cat Noir wasn’t there… it wasn’t that hard for him to be hit with venom so his ring could be taken… revealing him as Adrien.

Hawkmoth reveals himself to akumatized her but the gang surrounds him and takes him down… revealing him to be Gabriel Agreste. He is quickly arrested for his crimes against Paris, Damocles, Caline and the class get sued for there actions towards Marinette. Due to there beliefs towards Lila, none of them think they did anything wrong to her at all, the lawsuits ruined all of them of course.

Chloe, Kagami, Luka and Marinette all moved to the states where they would be safe and away from the bad guys, they became so famous and popular that news spread all the way to Paris about them. The class of course regretted their actions… but Alya was worse, she tried calling Mari in the hopes she would be forgiven and helped but quickly received a cease-and-desist letter to never contact Mari again which broke her heart as she like the class wondered how their lives would have been had they not bullied her.

The last thing they heard… were Mari to Damien, Chloe to Jon and Kagami to Luka’s weddings. It was the top of the talk and the one thing people kept talking about. Of course the class often heard about it and deeply regretted there actions even more… each of them picturing what they would have been doing for Marinette’s big day had they not bullied her… Alya imagined the post she would have made for her blog (without Mari’s permission like always) Adrien imagined himself marrying Marinette, some imagined the party they have had for her while others imagined helping her pick her dress or what she would have made them to wear for her big day.

Meanwhile… Lila was seething with rage; it wasn’t fair that her life was ruined while Marinette soared into fame! It should be her marrying a rich and famous person, she should be the one having an amazing wedding… but instead Marinette was happy and enjoying her happy ending while Lila suffered for her crimes.

Good thing Max threw Markov out though! It was all thanks to him that Marinette got justice and is now happy!

[literaryavenger]

I Can't Believe That Idiot Got Into My Head - ch. 1

Summary: It's just a regular Tuesday morning when Steve decides to fuck with your head.

Pairing: Platonic!Steve Rogers x Reader, Platonic!Bruce Banner x Reader

Warnings: Swearing. Teasing. My poor attempts at being funny. Not much for this one, really.

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: I'm so excited for this! Enjoy the first chapter, I hope it's not too tedious but it gives a lot of background info that will come back later. Happy New Year again, by the way!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You sigh as you walk into the lecture hall where your History class is, coffee in hand, already tired of this week and it’s only Tuesday.

You sit down in your usual seat and take out your laptop, taking notice that Steve, Bucky and Sam, the only ones of your friends that take this class with you, aren’t here yet.

Looking at the time you realize it’s still pretty early, so you take advantage of the peace an quiet to start your homework for other classes due next week as you wait for your friends and the professor to show up.

After about 10 minutes, Steve comes in, sits next to you and smiles at you. “Hey, beautiful.” He says in a playful tone, like he always does.

“Hi, Stevie.” You say while chuckling.

Steve is a bit of a flirt with you, but only because you both know he doesn’t really think of you that way; You tried dating freshman year but realized you were better off as friends. Still, he feels more comfortable with you than with other girls, so he flirts with you a lot while he’s pretty shy around girls he actually likes.

He gives you a charming smile and looks at the computer screen to see what you’re doing. “What’s up, nerd?”

“Not your grades, jackass.” You tease him back with a grin.

“That was uncalled for, you jerk!” He chuckles and then, when he notices you’re doing homework for other classes, he frowns. “Shouldn’t you be studying History?”

“I already handed in my essay, so I thought I’d get ahead on my homework for next week.” You explain, your eyes still on the essay you’re writing for your advanced lit class.

“You do know that you're not supposed to finish all your homework, right?” He looks at you in mock disbelief and scoffs. “That's against what the college experience is all about… You’re supposed to be irresponsible about studying until the deadline is almost up only to panic and start studying at like midnight.”

You finally look at him and laugh, his expression so shocked you’d think you told him you killed someone. 

“That might be the way you jocks do it, but doing it my way allows me to go out and have fun and get drunk every single weekend without worrying about failing.” You say playfully, teasing him about being a football player.

Almost all the guys in your friend circle (Steve,Tony, Bucky, Thor, Clint, Sam, Scott and Pietro) are on the university’s football team, and Steve is the Quarterback. only Loki and Bruce aren’t, while you, Natasha and Wanda are cheerleaders and you’re the head cheerleader.

Steve crosses his arms and tries to act annoyed to keep the joke going, though he can’t help but chuckle. “And it allows you to be an obnoxious know-it-all. That's why you can’t keep a boyfriend.”

“Ouch!” You say while dramatically putting a hand above your heart, pretending he actually wounded you. “Low blow, Rogers.”

You laugh together, it’s not like it bothers you, you’re not ashamed that you don’t have a boyfriend and you know Steve is only teasing. So you tease him back.

“Didn’t think you’d stoop so low.” You shake your head, pretending to be disappointed. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Tony.”

“Don’t act like you’ve never told me about how many of my girlfriends were dumb as bricks.” He rolls his eyes with a chuckle. “Also, you think Tony’s the one who spends too much time with me?” He raises an eyebrow at you, and you know where he’s going with this. “Who was the one that came with me to the Super Bowl last weekend?”

“Guilty as charged.” You say while chuckling as you think how much fun you had last Sunday together when he took you to the Super Bowl because neither Bucky nor Sam could make it. “But, in my defense, some of your past girlfriends were dumb as fuck since they only wanted you because you’re the team’s quarterback and not because of the amazing person you are.”

It may sound flirty, but you’re just being honest. Steve may be hot, but he’s also really caring, sweet and one of your best friends. It’s a shame a lot of girls can’t see past his football player status.

The fact that you said that still surprises him, though. He smiles a bit, not expecting you to point out how shallow the girls who only date him for his status are. Though he quickly hides it, acting like a jerk again.

“You say that like you're any different. You're the head cheerleader and you're a goddess. The only reason anyone would want to date you is because of your beauty.” He says it with a playful grin, just trying to mess with you.

“Which is why I’m single.” You reply back playfully. You know you’re in his same situation but, unlike him, you stay away from dating unless you know the person actually likes you for you.

“Most guys on campus think I’m dating you, though.” You add absentmindedly while looking back at your computer. “You know, because of the whole ‘head cheerleader and quarterback’ thing. It also doesn’t help that you flirt with me relentlessly.” You chuckle.

It’s not like it bothers you, but he does flirt with you a lot in front of other people that don’t understand that both of you just see each other as friends. Which is also why a lot of girls hate you, and a lot of Steve’s past girlfriends had a problem with your friendship. Thankfully, Steve never let any of them influence the way he acts around you.

“Let them think what they want.” He says with a cocky grin, before his face quickly turns serious. “Actually, there is a guy on campus that asked me if you had a boyfriend.”

“Do I even want to know?” You ask, raising an eyebrow as you look back at him.

“Probably not, but I’m going to tell you anyway.” He leans forward, pretending to whisper in your ear just to be dramatic about it. “His name starts with ‘T’ and ends with ‘ony Stark’.”

You let out the breath you didn’t even know you were holding in and groan when you realize he’s just messing with you, the jerk.

“You’re fucking with me.” you roll your eyes and look back at your computer.

You both know Tony doesn’t see you like that. He’s had a massive crush on this girl Pepper since freshman year, even if he’d never admit it out loud. But your whole friend group is aware of it. 

You personally have some classes with her, but you’re not exactly friends. Still, you think she’s a pretty cool person, though she’s friends with girls you don’t really care for.

Steve laughs at your reaction. “Yeah, I know, but the look on your face was priceless.”

You roll your eyes again, focusing on your essay for a minute before his voice captures your attention again. “But now that we’re on the subject… Who do you think likes you?”

“You mean besides every guy on campus with a cheerleader fantasy?” You ask playfully with your eyes still on your computer.

“Besides that, you dork.” He says chuckling. “I mean… Out of all the guys in our friend group… Who do you think likes you?”

You suddenly stop writing on your computer, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. “Do you know something I don’t?” You ask him suspiciously.

“I might…” He says casually, shrugging before adding. “Let’s just say that a certain friend of ours has been asking about you quite a lot.”

“Are you gonna tell me who it is?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at his cryptic answer.

“Nope.” He grins. “You’ll need to guess.”

“You’re having way too much fun with this.” You tease him while looking back at your laptop, not really in the mood to play this game right now.

“That’s because you’re gonna go crazy trying to figure it out.” He chuckles and turns to look at the window as if he’s thinking. “Do you want a hint?”

“Fine, I’ll bite.” You say with a sigh, your essay completely forgotten now. “Give me the damn hint.”

He chuckles and thinks for a moment, before carefully saying, “The guy in question is the opposite of me in pretty much everything.” he stays vague, not really trying to make it too obvious to you.

You frown. The first name that immediately pops into your mind is Bucky. 

Everyone on campus knows they're complete opposites; sure, they're both tall, muscular dudes with blue eyes, but Steve is blonde, sunny, outgoing and friendly, while Bucky is a brunette, brooding, closed off and more of the shy type. Yet somehow they're best friends, almost brothers. Everyone thinks they're the Yin and Yang of best friends. 

But that can't be who Steve's talking about, right?

Before you can answer, Bucky and Sam come into the lecture hall and take a seat next to you, Bucky on Steve's other side and Sam on yours.

When they arrive, both you and Steve quickly try to look like he hasn’t said anything at all, but Bucky and Sam quickly realize that something is up by the way he’s acting and by the fact that you’re clearly only pretending to be focused on your laptop just to not look at them. 

Sam gives you a curious look but doesn't say anything, knowing that if something’s up you will probably tell them later. Bucky, on the other hand, just glares at Steve. He knows him too well and he knows that Steve was probably messing with you.

Thankfully, before anyone can say anything, the professor comes in and the History class starts. Although, admittedly, this is one time that you’re having trouble concentrating because damn Steve got in your head.

After a few minutes of lecture, Steve leans over to talk to you quietly, so the others couldn't hear him. 

“So, have you figured out who it might be yet”? He says it with a devious grin, enjoying the fact that you’re now stuck thinking about it during the whole class.

“I hate you.” You whisper back but the small smile on your face makes it clear that you don't mean it.

He lets out a small chuckle. “So, that’s a no.” He says it in a playful, cocky tone.

“I'm trying to pay attention, if you don't mind.” You say playfully while nodding towards the professor who's giving his lecture undisturbed.

“Alright, alright.” He lets out a small chuckle. “I'll let you pay attention to the class.” 

He leans back on his chair, acting like he didn't do anything to make you curious about who might like you. Though, he has no idea how distracted you really are now, only one thought clear in your mind.

I can’t believe that idiot got into my head.

After your class ends, you gather your stuff as fast as you can. “I gotta get to chemistry.” You say to the guys as an excuse and quickly walk out, which is not really a lie since you do have chemistry class next. 

You walk into the lab and find Bruce already sitting there, so you sit next to him since you're lab partners.

Bruce is already working on something, and when you sit he doesn't say much, he just nods to acknowledge your presence as he continues to work on whatever he’s doing.

He seems to notice that you look distracted as you put on your goggles and he says to you quietly. “You good?”

“Yeah, just Steve being a jackass.” You joke. Bruce knows as much as you how much Steve likes to joke and he knows you don't really think Steve is a jackass.

“Classic Steve.” He chuckles and nods before going back to working on your chemistry project.

He's pretty good at picking up when something is troubling you without you having to actually say it, though, so a few minutes later, he speaks up again.

“Are you sure that it was just Steve being a jackass?” He says in a genuinely concerned tone.

“I'm okay, Brucie.” You tell him with a smile, grateful for his concern but it's not needed right now. You shift the focus back to your project, helping him make progress.

He just gives you a smile when he realizes you don't want to talk about it but doesn’t push it. He knows that you will tell him when you feel like it. So, instead, he focuses back on the project too.

Half hour into working on the project, he turns to you and says. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, what is it?” You ask a little distractedly while you keep my attention on your project with a small frown as you try to fix the formula in your notebook.

He sighs and looks down. “Well, you know how Steve likes to tease you a lot, right?”

“Yeah?” You say back, not sure where he's headed with this. “So what?”

“Well, I guess what I'm trying to ask you is…” He looks up to you again. “Do you think all those times he was teasing you, he was just being annoying or…” He trails off, not sure how to finish his question.

That finally catches your complete attention and you put down the beaker in your hand. “Or what? He likes me?” You ask incredulously as Bruce nods.

“Steve doesn't like me like that.” You say with no hesitation. “We dated for like a week back in freshman year and we both agreed it didn't work. He just teases and flirts because he's comfortable with me. I'm one of his best friends.” You say casually while picking the beaker back up and continuing to work on your project.

That's not exactly the reaction Bruce expected. “Wait… you dated?” He raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued as he looks at you with a curious grin.

“Yeah, it was before we had our friend group.” You say absentmindedly. “He was cute and all, so we went on a few dates and got along pretty well, but after one kiss we realized there weren't any romantic feelings there.”

That's actually how your friend group started: Steve introduced you to Bucky and Sam, then they joined the football team and you became a cheerleader where you met Nat and Wanda and you all just kind of started to hang out together. 

Then the guys got closer with some of the other football players on the team, so Thor, Scott, Tony and Clint added to the mix, Pietro too since he’s also Wanda’s brother. Loki joined you just because he was Thor’s brother, but you all ended up getting along, and you introduced Bruce to the group since you’ve been lab partners since Sophomore year. Then, lastly, Vision started hanging out with you when he started dating Wanda, but he’s not that much into ‘the friend group’ thing, as he once put it.

Bruce is silently surprised by the fact that Steve and you dated, his attention locked on you as he says, “So… I take it that you see Steve as nothing more than a friend? Even with all the flirting?”

“It doesn't bother me,” You shrug. “I know he doesn't mean it. And it helps him practice too, he used to be so shy around girls.” You point out before chuckling. 

“I mean, he still is around girls he likes, but, trust me, it used to be much worse.”

Bruce chuckles. He knows Steve can be shy, he can’t imagine him being even shyer. “Well, he certainly seems more comfortable flirting with girls and talking to girls he is interested in now.”

He then pauses for a moment, thinking about what you two just talked about before speaking up again. “Can I ask you another question?”

“Sure.” You say while you keep working on your project that he doesn’t seem to be as interested in today as he is in your love life.

He sighs for a moment, seemingly hesitating when he finally asks his question. “Have you ever thought about dating anyone from the group lately?”

Your face gets a pink hue and you try your best not to stutter, the question completely unexpected. 

“Uhm… Maybe.” You say cryptically, but making it clear that you don't really want to talk about it.

Bruce has no trouble reading your reaction and, with how close you two are, he is even more curious about it since you haven’t mentioned anything to him. “Can I ask who?”

You look at Bruce and sigh. He's always been a very good friend to you and you have no reason not to trust him. You know he would never tell anyone a secret, even your friends. 

“Well, maybe… Maybe lately I've been thinking about how cute Bucky is…” You say quietly, your eyes down on the formulas you're working on.

Bruce is surprised by your answer. The thought had certainly crossed his mind, but he didn't think that you would be interested in Bucky.

His expression changes to a smirk and you internally groan, immediately regretting saying anything. 

“Bucky, huh?” He teases you a bit more than he usually would, knowing that he can. “I would've thought that you would've been more interested in Tony.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Why does everybody keep saying that? We all know Tony's head over heels for Pepper, even if he'd never admit it.”

Bruce laughs at your comment. “Okay... let's forget that for a second.” He has a mischievous grin on his face, since he loves teasing you. Though, he always makes sure not to go over the line.

“So, what do you like about Bucky? Is it his eyes? The fact that he's handsome? His big muscles?” He's definitely doing his best to tease you right now.

“Okay, maybe you're the one with a crush.” You tease him back before actually taking a moment to think about the answer.

Bucky’s always been kind of a mystery, and maybe that’s part of the appeal, and he’s certainly hot, but… Truth is, the more you know him, the more you like what you discover about him.

“I know he seems like this hot, broody, intimidating football player,” You start quietly, looking at the beaker in your hands. “but when you get to know him, he's sweet and funny and caring and sensitive… He's a lot of things.” you finish, your mind filling with all the memories you have of Bucky, both with your friend group and those rare times it was just the two of you.

Bruce can't help but chuckle with a smirk on his face. “So, you definitely have a thing for Bucky then, huh?” He's enjoying this immensely, and he still has a smirk on his face as he decides to tease you a bit more.

“And here I thought that you would prefer someone more muscular, like Thor.” He can't help but grin mischievously when he says this. He's definitely enjoying this too much for your taste, so tease him right back.

“We both know Thor is more your type.” You say with a grin, knowing Bruce has had a crush on Thor since forever.

He raises an eyebrow, seeming surprised that you called him out like that. 

“Oh, so now I'm the one who has a crush on someone!” He chuckles. “Thor's not my type, thank you very much.”

He looks down and smiles, he can't really deny it and he knows you know it. “Besides, he's not one to date anyone, we both know that.”

“Maybe that's because no one he likes has tried to date him…” You say cryptically. 

You’re convinced Thor and Bruce are both crushing on each other, but they're both too chicken to actually do something about it. Maybe you should take matters into your own hands.

Bruce's eyes narrow for a second, as if he's suspicious of what you just said and he clears his throat. “Well, maybe no one has tried to date him because nobody would think that Thor would be interested in them, right? And who's to say that someone like you hasn't tried to flirt with Thor and got rejected by him?” Bruce tries to play it cool, but you can see right through him.

“Oh, trust me. A lot of girls like me have tried to flirt with Thor and got rejected. I guess they just weren't his type.” You say with a grin, enjoying the way Bruce is blushing at what you’re implying.

Bruce turns his head away completely, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed by your words. He clears his throat before he lets out a small chuckle. “So, you're telling me that just because Thor rejected all those girls before, it means he’s just waiting for the right one?”

“Or maybe it's not about waiting for the right girl.” You try to drop a hint, but it seems like, as bright as Bruce is, he's not getting what you’re insinuating. Or he’s pretending not to.

“So, what do you think he's waiting for? The right guy then?” He chuckles, finding the whole idea funny. Especially since he has no clue that you're actually trying to play matchmaker, something he never suspected you would do, but the idea is already forming in your mind.

You shrug casually. “I don't know.” Is all you say but, before he can say anything else, your class is over. “I have engineering next. See you at lunch?” you ask Bruce since everyday your group of friends has lunch together.

He nods, still unsure about what to make out of your answer, though he decides to drop it for now. “Yup. See you at lunch.”

Bruce packs his things and heads out of the lab. He still has an hour before lunch and he's definitely still curious about what your answer meant and what you might have been implying. 

He can’t help but think, I can’t believe that idiot got into my head.

[comicarc]

𝐈 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 (𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈)

previous • next

"A lonely moon craving for the radiant sun." In which a certain girl catches the attention of a prideful billionaire playboy as they both attempt to find their way in the world. (I haven't seen many fics explore Bruce in his formative years, so I thought I'd share my take on them, of course with romance.)

wc: 1352

The third year of Gotham University, and y/n had all but been cut off from any ties she had to the Academy. Bruce had fallen off the face of the Earth, and Harvey busied himself with making the dean’s list for the third year in a row. 

Gotham University was no Ivy League, but that’s not to say it didn’t provide a decent education. Rooming with the notorious Harleen Quinzel for the second year, y/n had found normalcy in the unorthodox life that seemed to follow her. 

Harleen had been dating many men on and off, but this new guy seemed to have stuck. This had been her longest relationship yet, and that meant Harley spent way too much time outside of the dorm than in it. Of course, this stirred much rumor about her sexual tendencies, but y/n always ignored it.

Impressions were so malleable, and people so foolish. It didn’t take long for the entire psychology student body to think she’d been sleeping with her professors for her grades, because so many people refused to believe a blonde, blue-eyed bimbo could ace her classes. 

y/n on the other hand, was too busy juggling a different obstacle to be concerned with any such gossip. It was true, that Falcone was imprisoned, and it was also true that all his operations had been halted. But Falcone was the least of her worries now. Ever since she had talked to Dr. Crane, he’d kept calling her back every month for a little discussion.

At first, she thought the conversations were his gesture of kindness, knowing of her traumatizing ordeals and wanting to ease her pain. But there was no compassion in his intention. Dr. Crane was as notorious as it came, for that sack she had found was his true face. The man was mad, with a lust for controlling others.

He wanted reparation for the ordeal he had to overcome in his childhood, he wanted to conquer fear as so many men do. But with his expertise, Crane was able to do just that with a fear toxin. He ran experiments with his patients to perfect the concoction, but he became too greedy. No longer could he confine his work to Arkham, he needed a means of testing it in Gotham. 

y/n was the perfect means of transportation, for she had such lengthy experience working for Wilcox. Crane had grown fond of the young girl, enough that he mistook her obedience for trust. So often he’d forget that she was suffering, rather than relishing in the pain of others.

In due time he thought she would understand the satisfaction that the pain of others brings about. They had both been wronged, so it was about time that someone else felt the taste of blood that coated their mouths. He always thought they were one in the same, but y/n knew they’d never be such.

She was disgusted, having to inject innocent men and women with the toxin and record how their pitiful faces morphed into a fearful panic. It was either her or them, and it felt so selfish having to trade her safety for their pain. 

She’d been used so long, that she no longer felt like she could escape. y/n was bound to be chained by one man or another until she left Gotham, that much she was sure of. So, in an attempt to not lose sight of her goal, y/n tried to take control of her actions by hurting a guilty man. 

James, the man who’d been toying with Harley’s heart was a much more suitable candidate to torture than the old woman who lived across the street from him. Somehow, she’d managed to convince the sadistic doctor to set his sights on a more righteous cause. Though they both knew it was a lame effort for survival, Crane indulged in y/n’s pursuit of self-authority.

Who knew the man was capable of such idiocy that he would set himself on fire? y/n couldn’t extinguish it, for Crane was watching, and so she watched the man meet death. At least he had been given the mercy of dying on his own terms, far quicker than any of the other victims who had been tortured for hours. But guilt ate at her heart until she felt hollow. She had destroyed and betrayed herself for nothing, except a ludicrous endeavor to survive. 

But what did it mean to live, if she were becoming the very thing she hated? What did it mean to live if all she wanted to do was die?

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The memory had awoken y/n for good. Sitting up on her bed she thought back to the promise Bruce had made her when they first met. That he would make her untouchable. But in truth, he never promised her that, she’d only deluded herself to believe in it so that she could have a semblance of hope for a different future.

What a lie she had fed herself, for never had she been untouchable. So many people took advantage of her, and left her broken, to pick up the pieces quickly enough so that she could endure the next trial. 

Turning her head, she supposed she could get some work done while she was still awake. Switching on the lamp on her bedside table, y/n illuminated a hand that appeared to be opening her window. She wasn’t fazed by the action, for Robin had been caught many times before. The presence that entered this time though, did leave her somewhat baffled.

Dressed in all black, the Bat made his way inside, sitting at y/n’s study. He seemed perturbed for his movement was rigid & sat with his back hunched and his hands folded, resting on his knees. Noticing his state, y/n inquired, “Something bothering you?”

“You.” Bruce was surprised by his honesty. Things were starting to fall apart as of late, and Bruce had been contemplating y/n’s actions at the gala for the last week to no avail. He needed to know why she’d shown Dick such kindness, he needed answers that he felt he wasn’t prepared for. 

“Oh? What have I done now? Was it something I’ve written?” She attempted to lighten the mood and ease the troubled man who sat in front of her. 

“Why’d you play hero at the gala?”

“Is it a crime, to help a helpless boy?” She gazed at him, trying to decipher his reaction to her words but he remained stoic as ever. “I keep remembering a time when if it had been me, all would have ignored my vulnerable state. The kid didn’t deserve to know such pain when he has such a pure heart.” She smiled, thinking of how brave the boy was to go out of his way to warn her.

Batman looked at her, searing into her soul through the slits of his mask. He couldn’t believe her, he didn’t want to believe her. She never ceased to confuse him. “What do you remember of that time?”

“Everything, most of the time I feel like a museum carrying a myriad of memories I want to forget.” Bruce got up from the chair, taking ominous steps as he endeavored to scare the truth out of y/n. She remained unrelenting as she stared at his approaching figure, smiling. 

He was inches from her. They were so close she could feel his steady breath on hers. She resumed, “I am catastrophically aware of the grief that’s haunted me for decades. The grief I hold for the living, the grief I hold for the girl I once was. I refuse to let anyone else turn out the same.”

He could feel the conviction in her voice. It did nothing to ease the puzzlement in his mind, but at least he understood that a part of her remained sane. As much as he hated her, he could understand her now, even if it was just a sliver of her being. At least Batman gave him that much power.

˖ ࣪🦇𓆰♡𓆪🦇ִ ࣪⋆

taglist: @earth-to-name

[funkylittlebidiot]

leap of faith

It's happened again - sleeping in the afternoon means i get creative in the evening. Here's a thing.

The Bats wouldn’t make it in time, Tim knew as he scrambled through the door leading onto the roof of Wayne Enterprises. He’d known it the second he’d hit the panic button right before his doors burst open, spilling tactical gear-clad goons into his office.

He’d also known instantly this wasn’t a situation worth the risk of playing Timothy Drake-Wayne, so he’d chucked the Manila folder he’d been holding out like a batarang.

It wasn’t particularly effective, but it was instinct, as much as ducking for cover behind his mahogany desk in the same move. Thank god Bruce had made it bullet resistant - there’s no feature more practical in a desk. Especially in Gotham.

Of course, that’s when a bullet pierced through the wood anyway and almost knicked his shoulder. It only took a moment to take in the projectile, a bullet shaped like an arrowhead the size of a thumb, lodged into the wood with the tip coated in a green crystalline sheen.

It’s only then that Tim had begun to panic.

There were many reasons why criminals might attack Timothy Drake-Wayne - money, leverage, petty grudge, a slip in his identity or a social faux-pass were all possibilities that easily swam to his mind. There wasn’t a single reason he could think of that they would attack Timothy Drake-Wayne with kryptonite.

And Tim was an inventive guy, if he did say so himself.

Breathing going slightly funny, but forcing that to the side, he took stock of his options. The bats wouldn’t make it in time, he didn’t have his own suit and weapons, and there was no way in hell he was going to call to Kon for help. Not with kryptonite in play.

If he could he’d text Kon he was craving Belgian chocolate so he’d get as far away from WE as possible.

Anyway, think.

Tim waited for the first goon to round the desk and point his gun at his head, and purposefully fumbled a bit as he grabbed the gun and twisted in a move he’d mastered at twelve years old. He might not be able to afford playing civilian, but he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity of being underestimated.

They took it as a lucky shot - a rich boy taking a defense class is only common sense in a city like Gotham - but it still left one out of six attackers on the floor with a dislocated shoulder. The gun he’d twisted out of his arm was used to knock aside another, before breaking the nose of the assailant.

There were still four guns on him - five if the guy got over his broken nose - and the space was too cramped a battle ground. Tim was used to fighting the open space of city streets, or the occasional indoors he’d been able to case beforehand, swooping in with full control of the situation. Situations where he’d had his suit.

His dark slacks and white button down wouldn’t hold back as much as an open-palmed slap, and with his missing spleen he was too high-maintenance to be a kidnappee.

He had to get out of the office.

Tim jumped over his desk, clearly surprising his assailants as he used the same move to kick out with his feet. They dodged, but their movement had cleared out a path to the roof access stairs hidden behind a set of doors resembling a build-in closet.

It was a useful feature - both for the CEO with the private helipad on the roof and the vigilante needing to sneak out of the office during city emergencies.

Tim ran up the stairs now, grateful they hadn’t managed to get a hit in yet, but hyper-aware he wasn’t actually running towards something, and burst out into the April chill. The helipad was empty because he hadn’t thought to schedule an emergency evacuation today, but the feel of cold air against his skin was soothing. It made him feel more like Robin - Red Robin, whatever - standing high on a roof, in control of his surroundings once more.

They would have to follow him up. They would need to come through the door one by one. And Tim still had the gun.

Of course he couldn’t actually use it. He didn’t know how lethal the unfamiliar weapon would be.

Besides, the thought of shooting rounds of kryptonite made him ill.

The door bust open, followed by two guns with men attached stepping out onto the concrete. They moved quickly, swarming out like a trained SWAT team, which made his stomach flutter nervously. He’d only seen the six, five now were left.

But he didn’t know how high up they went. How many had been needed to get the six of them up to the top floor of Wayne Enterprises in the first place? How many more were downstairs?

Tim fought the urge to take his eyes off the men in front of him to sweep the surrounding roofs for snipers.

The previous comfort had left him, feeling exposed with his back turned to the skyline, his button-down catching the wind like a white flag.

“You’re trapped,” one of the men called, voice amplified to be heard over the roar of the wind. “Surrender and we’ll take you quietly.”

Tim frowned.

“What do you want?” He yelled back, playing along as his thoughts ran ahead, calculating his options. “Money?”

“Leverage.” The second guy on the left called out. “You’ll be fine as long as you play along.”

“What do I have to do?” His heart was racing in his chest, fearing the answer but also determined it wouldn’t be a problem. If they ask him for Superboy it’s an easy response.

“Just get back down, open your computer, and set up a -“

Tim already wasn’t listening anymore, ears rushing with relief as he threw down the gun and started running.

It was a stupid coincidence - the kryptonite just an extra precaution or a new trend on the streets of Gotham or whatever. They didn’t want Conner. Which meant there probably wasn’t a sophisticated contingency set up for if he were to show up - no hidden snipers in the surrounding buildings (at least none expecting Superboy), no Cadmus technology, nothing.

Still, he made sure to wait until he’d dropped at least 30 stories to finally yell out a slightly strangled - Superboy!

The following few seconds, as he continued to fall, his heart sinking into his stomach, he was forced to question the decision of leaping before making sure Kon was actually paying attention.

Then, only fifteen stories below that, he collided with a familiar body, strong arms wrapping around him as his momentum careened to a halt. Tim clung on instinctively, air leaving his lungs with a sigh as his arms came up around Kon’s neck in a tight hug, the tiptoes of his leather shoes awkwardly fitting their usual holds on Kon’s feet. This sure was easier in his Robin suit, but that thought quickly left his head as he was surrounded by the warmth of Conner. His thin white shirt had been terrible at keeping out the chill of the drop, the wind tugging at it incessantly, but against Conner it allowed him to actually feel the arms wrapped around his back, the hands pressed against his side like pools of heat.

Tim smiled into the crook of Kon’s neck, before forcing his brain to focus back on the situation as he could feel Superboy tense with anger, shifting to fly back up to take in the scene. He pressed a quick kiss into the soft skin under his jaw, hoping to soothe.

“Do not engage,” he spoke into Kon’s ear, though he knew he’d be able to hear perfectly even if Tim couldn’t catch his own voice over the sound of the wind. “They have kryptonite weapons.”

Kon tightened his grip and shifted like he wanted to take his chances, but Tim tugged at his hair until he looked down and Tim was finally able to meet his eyes.

The sight was heaven-send, but the slow curls of panic were still swirling in his gut, telling him to get those eyes as far away as possible.

“Let’s go home. Please.”

Kon swallowed but nodded, tightening his grip before they were swept away by the wind.

As soon as they came to a halt and Tim couldn’t see the city gray of Gotham anymore, his heart finally un-clenched. He went boneless as their feet touched the ground, and Kon’s grip on him softened into a proper hug.

“Thank god you’re okay.” Tim breathed into Kon’s hair, causing Kon to pull back and meet his eyes with a furious gaze.

“Me?” He ground out, hands tightening on Tim’s hips. “I’m not the one pushed off the top of a building!”

“I’m fine! I wasn’t even pushed - I jumped!”

“You- jumped.” He looked like he was short-circuiting, which might have been funny if Tim hadn’t cared that he was clearly upset. “Tim!”

“Yeah.”

“Why would you do that?!”

“Because I needed to call for help but I wasn’t going to do that anywhere near where they could get a good shot at you!”

“So you jumped?! From a skyscraper!”

“No, I jumped into your arms!”

“What if I hadn’t heard you!”

“Then I would have been upset.”

“You would have -“

Tim kissed him before he could short-circuit some more, which luckily did help him reboot and focus on what’s important - wrapping his arms around Tim’s hips again and pulling him closer, pressing their chests together as Tim moaned against Kon’s mouth.

He wanted to walk Kon back, push him against a wall before dragging him into his bedroom to thank him properly for being his knight in leather jacket - which is when he realized they were no where near his apartment OR the tower.

They were on a forest-lined stretch of road, a familiar iron gate to Tim’s back.

He pulled back, accusatory, mentally rearranging his gratitude into punishment instead, as he glared at Kon. “I told you to take me home!”

“I did!” Kon sounded way too smug, clearly pleased Tim was suffering in his own right. “They were almost at the tower when I got there. Cass told me to get you home or else - and I’m more scared of her then I am of you.”

“If I get murdered by the Spawn you’re going to feel so guilty.” Tim murmured, crossing his arms against the hollow feeling of dread in his stomach as he stared up at the manor. Cass was there. Bruce was alive.

He could deal for half an hour.

That would have to be enough.

Kon’s arm fell like a comforting weight around his waist as he came to stand beside him, squeezing softly. “I’m just a shout away.”