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Bruce Wayne calling any of his children sweetheart.

Especially if they are hurt or crying or otherwise distraught.

That’s it. That’s the post.

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random anecdote for father's day: one time during a long car ride my dad asked me, "you're familiar with Murphy's Law, right?" and i was like "isn't that the one about how anything that can go wrong will go wrong?" and he said "yeah, exactly" and i said "why do you ask?" and he went "well, have you heard of Cole's Law?" and i said "no, actually, what's that?" and he said "it's mostly lettuce and carrots with a little dressing mixed in"

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-♠️

Dnsicnsicnsocnsicjsicjsidnsiffinsfkdncksfnaocnekgisnfosnfiancodnfosndks

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Love that transcends time 

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AU of an AU: what if Bruce could see ghost!jason?

Got a lil help from @sunlitlemonade - thank youuuu

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now that i have been freed from xenoblade x, i finally finish my anniversary art, nearly a month late :D

it's prom night and everyone is all ready to go! an exciting occasion for the Astral Express Family <3

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a writing competition i was going to participate in again this year has announced that they now allow AI generated content to be submitted

their reasoning being that "we couldn't ban it even if we wanted to, every writer already uses it anyway"

"Every writer"?

come on

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de-aged bruce wayne and the worlds most thrilling game of clue

Mini-Bruce stares at Tim, and hands him a doll. 

“We are playing Detective Barbie,” he announces. “You can be Ken.”

Affection rises in his chest. He’s just so tiny. Some of the panic eases too. Barbies. He can play Barbies. “Is Ken the Watson to your Sherlock?” 

“Ken is dead.”

Never mind. He barely resists the urge to groan. What is he supposed to do if he’s dead? He’s so bored. He can’t leave the room, he’s supposed to watch Bruce. And if he tries to take Bruce with him to a different room, he has no doubt the kid will slip him somehow. 

He knows exactly what he’s doing, too. Trying to make it clear that Tim isn’t welcome. Welp, sorry, Mini-Bruce, but if your adult self couldn’t get rid of me, this eight year old version of you has absolutely zero chance. 

Tim’s like a termite. He has gotten in the foundations of the house, and there is no getting him out. Still, he doesn’t want to just be playing Dead Ken. 

“Counter offer,” he suggests, and Bruce stares at him flatly. God, it’s weird how much like Damian he looks. Not that adult Bruce doesn’t share a resemblance, but it’s even more obvious when the baby fat hasn’t faded to a sharp, square jawline and five o’clock shadow. They’re not identical, different shapes to the nose, different eyes, but the scowl he’s leveling at Tim sends him right back to when Damian first moved in. “I play the murderer.”

Ha! It was barely there, but he caught it. A small flicker of interest in Bruce’s eyes. 

“That sounds dumb,” he scoffs, but it’s too late. Tim has smelled blood in the water, and he’ll press his advantage until Bruce has no other choice but to let him win. He’s not too good to use the same tactics he uses for Ra’s and the board of Wayne Enterprises on an eight year old. “How would that even work?”

“I’m so glad you asked.”

He has Bruce blindfolded with a pair of bat-grade noise canceling headphones on in the center of the room, and goes to work picking out props and setting clues around the dollhouse. 

He lays Ken in the middle of the mock police tape (the decorative stuff that seemed to spawn in every artsy girl’s pencil pouch in school but never actually stuck to anything) and spends a few minutes contemplating which Barbie he wants to use as the murderer. 

No offense to Ken, but there was only one in the bucket. Plus Tim really wanted to be Barbie. 

“Are you done yet?” Bruce complains loudly. Tim flicks him in the back of the head, since he wouldn’t be able to hear his response anyways. “Hey!”

Tim pulls one of the headphones off his ear. “Patience, padawan. I’m wrapping it up.”

Bruce huffs, but settles again. 

It’s all worth it when Tim has him finally take the stuff off, and Bruce’s eyes widen with excitement as soon as the blindfold falls away. 

It’s almost like a Cluedo setup in the dream house, with several possible murder weapons strewn about, different suspects in different rooms, and Ken laying face down the middle of the kitchen. 

“There’s been a murder,” Tim announces gravely as Bruce whips his head around to him. “Your goal is to figure out which Barbie is responsible for the death of Kensworth Footsworth, a wealthy heir of a washing machine company. There are seven possible suspects, each with their own motives-“ he pulls out the informational cards he made with a grin “-and alibis. One of these cards also has a description of the victims injuries. Your goal is to figure out the perpetrator, the murder weapon, and the motive. You get three hints. I will be acting as the different suspects, trying to throw you off the scent.”

Could they have just played Clue? Probably, but the 3D aspect of things is kind of exciting. Tim is actually really looking forward to this. 

Bruce just stares at him. “Kensworth Footsworth is a stupid name.”

“Maybe that’s why the perp killed him.” Tim’s smile slowly fades as Bruce just keeps staring at him, expressionless. “We don’t, uh, have to play if you don’t want to. Obviously. I just thought it might be fun like this…”

Bruce finally looks away, something flickering over his face. “It’s fine. We can play. But you’d better not go easy on me!”

Tim smiles again, a little more strained. “Great!”

An hour later, Tim thinks this may be the most fun he’s ever had. Bruce is actually smiling. A real, bonafide, ear-to-ear grin that hasn’t shown up the whole time he’s been de-aged. It’s somehow the same and completely different from older Bruce’s smile, the one Tim always feels so proud of whenever he’s the one to make it appear. It still invokes the same feeling from an eight year old, apparently. 

Bruce slams a character card down, beaming. “I’ve got it! It was Balloon Beauty Barbie, in the kitchen, with the stiletto!”

“And why did she do it?”

“Because Kensworth Footsworth stole her rightful place as heir, and she’s still next in line for the fortune when he dies!”

“Yes!” He jumps to his feet, raising his hand for a high-five. “Dude, you got it! That’s awesome!”

Bruce bounces on the balls of his feet, eyes lit up with a child-like eagerness that is still so weird to see on his dad. Tim would do pretty much anything to keep it there, probably. 

“We’ve gotta celebrate,” he decides. “Do you like ice cream? I think we have ice cream in the freezer.” They always have ice cream in the freezer. 

He’s being dragged out of the room before he even finishes his sentence. 

“Alfie!” Bruce shouts as soon as they enter the kitchen. “I won detectives!”

The butler turns around, and his eyes widen slightly at Bruce’s beaming face before the boy collides with his leg. They both stumble from the force of it. Bruce seems caught off guard by this, but Alfred steadies them quickly enough that Tim doesn’t have to keep them from falling over. 

“Is that so?” He asks, hand coming down to brush his fingers through Bruce’s hair. The questioning glance he sends Tim is full of affection and something he doesn’t know how to name. Gratitude, maybe, but he doesn’t know why. 

“Tim showed me this game you can play with the Barbies, where you start out blindfolded and the other person makes cards and there’s a dead body and a bunch of weapons—“

“Oh?” The next look he shoots Tim is a little less fond. He smiles sheepishly. 

“I basically made Clue into a 3D Barbie game,” he explains. 

“It was Ballon Beauty Barbie, in the kitchen, with a stiletto,” Bruce recites dutifully. “Alfie, we need to play! It’s kind of like your spy games!”

“Spy games?”

“Master Bruce has always enjoyed mysteries, as I’m sure you’ve figured out by now.”

“I hadn't seen young Master Bruce smile like that since…” Alfred trails off, then shakes himself briskly and turns a fond smile onto Tim. “You boys have always been very good at showing him the light in the darkness.”

“You know me, Alfred,” Tim says. “It’s what I’m here for.”

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it's the start of the week, there's still time!

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here’s a jason todd edit i made enjoy or not. is it bad to say that if there was an extra minute of jason getting his shit rocked this would’ve been so much better? probably. oh well

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some of you. have never seen my cousin vinny. and it shows.

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Batblob is very important to me

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Meta doesn't want you to know about Sarah Wynn-Williams book Careless People. So much so they got the courts involved so she can't promote herself. Would be a shame if a bunch of people not tied up in court promoted it for her…

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Hey. Spreading the word to tumblr, aka "I don't like this change so I WILL complain about it" personified.

Discord is bringing mobile ads in June 2025. They've officially announced this.

SPREAD THE WORD!!! WITH ENOUGH BACKLASH, MAYBE THEY'LL RETHINK IT- OR AT LEAST DELAY IT!

THIS IS APPARENTLY ALREADY ON PC AND CONSOLE. WE DON'T HAVE ADBLOCKERS ON MOBILE.

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ALSO Finch friend code if anyone wants to help me and help yourself improve our lives 🤪

Tap the link to add me as a friend, or add my friend code L2PJTZVVW4. https://app.befinch.com/share/oWaL

I know that I’m like a million years behind, but if anyone out there still plays Pokemon Go,,,,,,,,,,,,

5981 2541 8368

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i remember in 6th grade public school one of my friends in the class used the word “bungalow” as often as possible and every time he needed to say “house” or “home” he swapped it for “bungalow” and me and the rest of the class thought it was so fucking funny.

so everyone in the class started using it too like saying “I brought my lunch from the bungalow today” or whatever and the teachers HATED IT.

it started getting out of hand when we were learning about the presidents and we often needed to say “the White House” so of course we would say “the White Bungalow” and the teacher was so furious and then there was a ban on the word and if anyone said it they were sent to the office and I remember the kid who started all the bullshit one time got in trouble for something petty like sharing his homework and the teacher said that she was going to call home to him mom and he just stood up and cried out “No, ms_____! Please don’t call home!”

and there was this huge silence because he just raised his voice at the teacher

and then a huge smile spread across his face and he said

“call bungalow instead.”

and I swear the whole class rioted it was amazing