#bruce Wayne is my little special guy though so if you don’t like him I fear we may never reach a mid point but c’est la via

[lovelylonelymoonlight]

See the thing about Jason and Bruce is that it’s the only death in comic books that’s treated that way and so the nuance that comes with the situation at hand is lost

Like yes Jason is the victim there BUT in real life he wouldn’t “come back” and so to critique the way Bruce choses to mourn the son he lost is absolutely heinous

Nobody brings up HOW Martha and Thomas would feel about how Bruce remembers them, because while they are the victims the trauma of the event lands squarely on Bruce’s shoulders. The same with the Graysons death and Dick

But Jason does come back and so people don’t think it’s fair for Bruce to claim that trauma, when in the situation in makes complete sense that he does!

The ultimate problem here is that dc writers don’t get this. They don’t seem to grasp that Bruce would ultimately drop everything to grab Jason and marvel at the fact that he’s back. He’s back. He came back. Instead bruce isn’t allowed to be a character and neither is Jason. Instead the have to be badasses who have no deeper emotions than rage

And so what is essentially someone mourning a loved one and focusing on the good and a young man terrified that his father didn’t truly love him and is lashing out is diminished to Bruce Not loving his son and Jason becoming a d-list anti hero/villain

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (pt 15)

Masterpost

The conversation trailed off as the stars came out and Danny started to watch them, head propped against Jason’s shoulder as he stared up at the sky. Jason was content to watch the fire, the flickering was hypnotic. Time passed slowly, until Danny gave a jaw cracking yawn that made Jason chuckle.

“How about we douse the fire and head to bed huh? It’s been a long day,” Jason suggested and Danny nodded, reluctantly pulling away from Jason he got up with a groan. Jason was about to go grab a bucket of water when Danny gestured and a wash of frost rushed over the ground and doused the fire with a sizzle and a puff of smoke and steam. “How many powers do you have?” Jason blurted.

“I don’t even know, I’m still developing them sometimes,” Danny sighed as he shuffled towards the tent “Clockwork says it’s something to do with me being half human. Most ghost’s powers are sort of stuck but I’m still growing and changing so I can keep learning. I sort of eventually figure out any power I see anyone else use. As long as they’re not too specialized, I’m not going to learn time manipulation just cause I saw Clockwork do it.” 

“Clockwork?” Jason asked as he followed Danny. 

“The ancient of time, he keeps an eye out for me. He means well, even though he’s a cryptic asshole most of the time.” 

“Daniel!” A voice Jason didn’t recognize shouted, but he was guessing Danny did, and it was not a welcome visitor by the way he flinched and immediately looked up with glowing green eyes. “I knew if I kept the trackers on you you would leave that god forsaken mansion eventually.” An odd, almost vampiric looking man with red eyes said as he floated down towards them. 

Jason still didn’t recognize the man but he didn't think anyone who looked That sinister could be a good guy. From the way that he was floating and context clues Jason could guess that this was a ghost. God Damn it! He only had one of his normal guns on him, he had put down the blaster! With the stranger's attention on Danny Jason scrambled for his gun.

“Vlad, what part of ‘stay the hell away from me’ don’t you understand?” Danny snarled.

Shit Vlad? Vlad masters the baby daddy? Jason felt a snarl rip its way out of his own throat, the pit swirling furiously inside him making him want to kill something. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling though it didn’t happen as often these days. At least Vlad only seemed to have eyes for Danny, he probably didn’t register Jason as a threat, or even a person of interest. It was a little unflattering but it gave Jason an opening to go for the blaster in his bag.

“I thought you said you would never allow a billionaire to adopt you, clearly something has changed. Come with me Daniel, I understand you infinitely better than Bruce Wayne,” He spat the name with contempt. “I can take care of you and-” 

Jason got the gun and fired, his aim was true, the glowing green blast struck Vlad squarely in the stomach and he reared back with a pained yowl, red eyes snapping to Jason. He touched the wound in his stomach, dripping green blood, it wasn’t as deep as Jason would have liked and it was already healing fast, but Still, he’d done some damage and Vlad seemed furious. 

“You insolent brat!” He growled, holding out hands that were glowing with energy. Jason tensed to dodge but before he could Danny was in front of him, a shield of green energy in front of him. 

“ENOUGH!” Danny yelled, and changed form, shooting up into the sky he fired back at Vlad, rabidly throwing bolts of green energy at him. “I have had ENOUGH! You have drugged me, kidnapped me, threatened my friends, cloned me, and then killed the clones when they weren’t perfect.” Danny landed a hit, Vlad was unable to dodge or block so many in a row and he let out a grunt as Danny struck his chest, pushing him back a few feet. 

Vlad tried to duplicate himself to shield himself but Danny shot them as quickly as they were made, making them disappear in puffs of smoke and screams. Once they were gone he focused again on Vlad. His eyes were glowing even brighter with frustration and rage as he directed both hands at his attacker and shot an even more powerful blast, landing a hit on Vlad that sent him trembling back, clutching a bloody and swollen nose. 

“You are a pathetic, terrible, Lonely failure and you always will be! You will never get what you want! NEVER YOU HEAR ME?! YOu stay the hell away from me and my kids! MY kids! Or I will fucking kill you!” Danny swore, shooting at Vlad again, who barely managed a clumsy dodge. 

“Come now Daniel you don’t mean that,” Vlad said but for the first time he sounded nervous. Danny had never lost his temper like this before, they’d fought, but he’d never even sworn.

They were distracted again and Jason had a clear shot, Vlad was clearly tough if he took a shot to these shots running but he couldn’t be indestructible. He shot again, aiming for the head this time, unfortunately the green glow gave him away and Vlad dropped down to avoid it. Vlad shot back, and Jason threw himself out of the way and rolled back up to his feet, ready to dodge, or fire again. 

“No!” Danny shouted at Vlad, flying at him so fast he barely had time to throw up a shield of his own before Danny collided with him, forcing him back again. His hands pressed against the shield, glowing toxic green before the close range blast broke the shield and sent Vlad tumbling through the air. “I put up with you for the sake of my parents and my secret but now that doesn’t matter anymore I have no reason to go easy on you! I’m done! I’m done with you!” 

And then he screamed, that same earth shattering wail, and with Vlad already knocked off balance, bleeding green from his chest, his nose, and generally beaten to hell, he had no defense. The sound forced him down with more than the force than gravity, the sound and impact leveled trees in a near perfect circle and left a crater in the soft earth at the bank of the lake. And Danny just kept screaming, pushing Vlad deeper into the wet earth. Jason could see that Vlad was screaming too, probably from the pain, but he couldn’t hear anything over the feeling of Danny’s wail.

Jason wanted to clamp his own hands over his ears and block out the sound but he couldn’t, he needed to keep hold of his blaster, and remain ready. The water rushed in and covered Vlad quickly once Danny stopped screaming. Jason bolted towards the edge of the new cove for Vlad to emerge. 

He came up gasping and coughing, floundering before he grabbed the edge of the hole and dragged himself out. Jason was there to meet him with a gun to his head and a glowing green glare of his own. Jason wanted to shoot Vlad and kill him, but he didn’t want to do that in front of Danny. For all he had just said he would kill Vlad Jason didn’t think he really meant it. Danny wasn't a killer at heart.  

“Stay very still,” He said calmly once Vlad had finished hacking up all the water he’d breathed in. He kept one hand on the gun and his finger on the trigger as he pulled a com out of his pocket, sliding it into his ear and turning it on. “O? Are you there?”

“Hood? Report?” Bruce’s clipped ‘batman’ voice came through.

“Vlad crashed the party, Track our location, I have him pinned,” Jason said without taking his eyes off Vlad who was still breathing hard and bleeding, glaring up at him. 

“On our way,” Bruce said quickly. “ETA 18 minutes.” 

“Very well done Todd,” Vlad drawled dryly and Jason twitched, of course since he’d been to Galas Vlad would know who he was, but Jason still did Not like it. “But you might want to look out, I believe young Daniel is in need of rescue.”

Jason knew better, he really did, but he couldn’t help glancing up quickly, and he was glad he did. He was just in time to see Danny revert to his human form and fall. Jason barely managed not to drop the gun as he ran to catch Danny, taking the brunt of the impact and going to his knees to keep them both intact through the landing. 

“Danny?” He gasped, pushing the other man’s hair back from his face, his eyes were closed and he wasn’t responding to his name but he was breathing. Jason glanced over to see Vlad was already gone. “Shit. B, you still there?”

“Yes. What happened Jay?” He asked, sounding more worried, more like Bruce. 

“Danny passed out,” Jason said as he set the other man down, grabbing a light and checking his pupils. “Pupils are responsive but he’s not waking up even with the light shining in his face. Vlad escaped but he couldn’t have gotten far in that condition. Danny really gave him hell.” 

“We’ll be there soon,” Bruce said, clipped and determined. Jason could hear the motor in the background, if he was pushing the usually silent jet to the point it was making that sound he really would be there in minutes. 

Jason sat down and pulled Danny nearly into his lap, still holding the gun just in case. He thought Vlad had made a break for it but he didn’t want to let his guard down. After all he had thought Vlad would be smarter then to attack them today, he had clearly underestimated the man’s obsessiveness and stupidity. The last thing he needed now was for Vlad to try and make a break for it with Danny while he was so vulnerable. 

He was rocking just a little, he didn’t know if he was trying to sooth Danny or himself as he waited for Bruce and whichever of his siblings were tagging along to arrive. He thought that he was in shock judging by how vague he felt and the odd aura at the edges of his vision. It was always sort of funny having the vague knowledge that he Was in shock but not really being able to do anything about it.

He looked up when he heard the bat-plane overhead and watched it coming in for a water landing. Finally feeling safe enough to holster his gun, freeing both hands to scoop Danny into his arms, getting up with Danny still cradled close. It wasn’t like the other man was heavy, Jason stumbled just a little as he went over to meet his family as the ramp dropped and they came rushing out. 

“Any idea what’s wrong with him?” Batman asked gruffly, going straight to them pushing a medical gurney.

“I think he just overused his powers,” Jason said numbly, putting Danny down on the rolling bed and followed Bruce back into the plane and the same time Spoiler, Blackbat, and Red Robin took off into the woods, to search for Vlad no doubt. Jason hoped they found him but somehow he doubted they would, Vlad could turn invisible and intangible after all, and Danny hadn’t had time to build them everything they’d need. Even with a decent amount of confiscated Fenton tech Jason didn’t like their odds. 

“He has this sonic attack that's really strong but seems to take a lot out of him. He passed out pretty soon after using it the second time,” He explained, sitting down heavily next to the bed as Bruce fussed and checked Danny’s vitals. 

“His heartbeat is slow but strong, pupils responding, like you said, he isn’t visibly injured. I think you’re right he over used it. We’ll set up an IV just to give him some energy and hydration and hopefully he’ll wake up soon. He’ll be okay Jay,” Bruce said, pausing to rest a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “I’ll take you back to the manor, I’m sure the others will find Vlad.”

“They’ve all got their wards?” Jason asked distractedly and Bruce nodded as he buckled Danny and the gurney in securely so he wouldn’t roll around during transport. “Good, ya, let's go home. I’m sorry, taking him camping was stupid. It was helping but I should have known that with Vlad still out there-”

“No, we didn’t see this coming, it’s not your fault,” Bruce interrupted, before sitting back in the pilot's seat and taking off. 

Jason didn’t agree, but he didn’t argue either. No one had argued with him, he was sure they’d all thought, like he did, that with the entire justice league after him and the ‘woman of his dreams’ behind bars Vlad would have bigger things to worry about. They’d all underestimated just how obsessed with Danny Vlad was, in this family of obsessive assholes it was a particularly foolish mistake.

Next

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter Seven: Uncharted Territory

Heiress of Gotham

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: The day has finally arrived! Getting to know your newfound family and friends a little more on your special day, you try to forget everything that’s troubling you.

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: Cursing, Teasing, Sexual Inferences, Hurtful Comments, Reckless Driving(?)

A/N: Though it's been awhile, I still have my layout for the plot points I want to hit and make sure happen within the final few chapters of this part in the series. This chapter has been super fun for me to write though, and I'm excited for all the characters that are being introduced! It's been hard trying to fit all the info into the last four chapters which is why it's taken so long.

“Woah…” stunned into silence, your eyes trail up the giant woman before you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Koriand’r.” Met with green eyes, you can’t help but stare in utter astonishment and amazement. Not only is she orange-skinned, but she has neon green eyes, super long flowing reddish hair, and is tall… but she’s also super toned. “Is… there something wrong?” She looks to Dick who stands beside her, a hand on the small of her back.

As Dick opens his mouth to speak on your behalf, you beat him to it. “Like the seed?” Though you'd attempted to make a joke on behalf of her name in an attempt to ease things, an awkwardness settles in the air before you speak again. “I-I just… haven’t met anyone like you before,” you mutter, still in a daze. With a shake of your head, you try to gather yourself. “You’re so tall… and pretty.”

A chuckle leaves her lips and her perplexed expression quickly turns into a smile. “Thank you,” she says your name and places a warm hand on your shoulder, “I believe I owe you a congratulations for surviving another revolution around the sun?”

“I-it’s 'Happy Birthday', Kori,” Dick reminds her, an amused and somewhat flustered look appearing on his face. A hand comes up to the back of his neck to rub at it. "Though, I suppose that's also not technically wrong," he mumbles to himself.

“Happy Birthday, then,” she repeats, eyes sincere as she returns your smile. After a moment she spots something behind you, as she suddenly squeals out an ‘ooh!’ before taking off. Both you and Dick watch as she examines and plays with a spiral straw within one of the colorful cups adorning a nearby table.

“Oh!” Dick calls your name again, tearing your attention away from the confusing sight you’d been observing. “These are my friends, Gar, and Rachel,” he introduces, patting them on the shoulders. “No Victor?”

“He… didn’t think this was the best place, you know, pool party—not to mention he got called off to Mogo with-“ Rachel whispers to Dick, though your attention is more drawn to their hair.

“It’s actually Garfield, but my friends call me Gar,” he extends a hand, to which you happily shake. “I hear it’s your birthday? How old are you turning?”

With a nod, you reply. “Sixteen.”

“Oh, boy! I remember those days,” Gar announces with a laugh, his arms stretching upward before one of them comes down to wrap around Rachel’s shoulder. “What a time.” Dick departs the conversation with a small wave in your direction as he walks toward Kori.

“Heh, yeah. Crazy… that’s for sure,” Rachel comments, her eyes only register you then when they turn from Gar onto you. They’re purple. “Happy Birthday! It’s nice to finally meet you, I’m Rachel. I hope it’s okay Dick invited us. We left your present on the present table. We weren’t really sure what you’d like-“

“-Had no clue, in fact!” Gar comments.

“-but we left a gift receipt in case you don’t. I know we just met, but Dick mentioned you guys didn’t get off on the best foot, and… I just want you to know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here for you.” Raven finishes. One of her hands wrapping itself around the elbow of her other arm.

“Yeah, Dick can totally be a--well--you know, a dick sometimes,” Gar jokes. “Seriously though. He means well, but it just takes time to get used to him.”

“Thank you so much. You… didn’t have to get me anything, but thank you… and it means a lot,” you respond, an appreciative smile on your lips as you place a friendly hand on her shoulder. “I love your guys’ hair by the way, super cool.”

“Hey, thanks!” Gar speaks, while Rachel simply smiles appreciatively.

————

Though your Father, Alfred, Jason, and Dick kept pestering you about your upcoming birthday for the weeks leading up to it, you can’t deny that the scene before you does anything but warm your heart.

The man you now know as ‘Uncle’ Clark—even if you don’t entirely feel quite comfortable enough to call him that yet—flips burgers on the grill making idle conversation with your Father. The usually prim and proper infamous Gothamite Playboy is nursing a beer in his hand, and for once, is actually dressed in what you’d classify as something fatherly. Sunglasses sit on the top of his quaffed hair, a playful blue short-sleeve button-up adorned with flamingoes screams the theme of today’s party.

You’d always wanted one as a kid, and while some had them at the local community ones, you never got the chance to. Now, with your own indoor and outdoors… a pool party was perfectly within the realm of grasp when Alfred asked what kind of party you’d wanted.

The butler had taken it upon himself to make the cucumber sandwiches that you’d discovered you actually enjoy this Independence Day when he’d made them. Much to the boy’s chagrin, you might add. Nevertheless, when you’d spotted them earlier in the kitchen, you’d given the older man a hug and smile, thanking him. Now he takes a break as he sits at the patio table in a high chair sipping at some fruity drink with a twisty straw, a little umbrella toothpick punctured into a piece of pineapple resting against the rim.

“So…. Which one’s him?” Your childhood best friend, Daisha asks. Quickly following her gaze, you see she’s onto the right group of people, at least. He’s there, all right. “If I didn’t know he was your brother, I would’ve guessed green shorts just based off type,” she verbally points out Damian with a chuckle and nudge to your side.

A scoff escapes you before you can prevent it. Hand flying to your chest, you make a face of disgust. “Eww… why you would say that-?!”

“Lemme guess- Superman shorts?” She teases, studying your reaction. “I was just kidding! Calm down. Geez!” You can't bear it, however, still disgusted even by the implication, you shake your head before finally gathering enough strength to shoot her dagger eyes. "Okay, so I'll take that as a 'no'. That leaves only one option left: orange shorts," she announces.

Lying on the pool float nearby, hands clasped across his stomach relaxedly, eyes hidden behind sunglasses, their blue orbs follow the same path that the girls' do. Listening on their conversation, Tim revels in the fact that it seems they haven't picked up on it, yet he's getting all the juicy information. "He's cute. Simple, but cute, I guess. It's his eyes, isn't it?" It's the way your friend, what was it... Daisha? He's pretty sure it was. Daisha says it in such a sure way that makes him almost burst out laughing. You refute it, but the way your cheeks darken a bit doesn't lie. He watches you splash her meekly before a little war ensues, sending you swimming away, finally calming once you're both sat in the little alcove by the random steps along the side.

Unfortunately, the both of you are out of earshot now. While he'd want to drop a foot into the water off the float and try to use it to get momentum to drift in that direction, it'd be too obvious. However, just as Tim decides he has to do so, Gar and Dick come splashing noisily in his direction quick. As they pass in their little show of bravado of 'who can swim to the other end there and back faster?' their strokes send a current of waves making his floatie rock and his body wobble as he grips onto the sides, eager not to fall in. After all, he's only just gotten warm. Luckily, however, it would seem someone really is looking out for him as momentum sends the floatie in the direction of the alcove.

"So where's your hot brother?" Daisha asks

“Ouch,” Tim comments, sucking in a breath between his teeth. He lowers his shades down the bridge of his nose, revealing bright blue eyes that stare down at the two of you. “I have to assume you don’t mean me, considering I’m right here,” he partially jokes, feigning hurt as he puts his hand over his bare pale chest. It’s only after an awkward moment of you two worrying you’d offended him that he laughs.

It’s contagious. Daisha laughs, meanwhile you can’t help but smile, eventually joining in. Even if your thoughts still course through the back of your mind. Had he heard your conversation? Would he tell? Would he even care? “It’s okay,” he speaks up again, breaking the silence. “I didn’t take it personally. Though I will say that whoever it is you do think is ‘the hot brother’ is can guarantee you isn’t worth it, sunshine,” he divulges with a scoff as he shakes his head, shades back up in their proper position.

“Oh,” Daisha quietly exclaims in surprise, scooting closer to the edge of the underwater ledge. “And what makes you say that?” She baits, knowing it’s a sort of tactic many can’t resist. Give someone room to vent, and eight times out of ten they’ll dish. As she leans closer, expectantly waiting with a mischievous smile upon her lips, you can’t help but perk up, somewhat interested in the prospect of hearing his opinion on the family and whatever secret sides you’ve yet to witness.

“You really want to know?” Tim baits her back, teasing her with a hint of teetering on the edge of juicy gossip. “Might tarnish your image of whoever it is,” he throws out there with a singsong voice, followed by a mock yawn for exaggeration.

“Well you can’t just say something like tha-” Daisha begins to argue, brows furrowing.

“I’d be curious to know,” you admit, voice waning in volume the longer you speak. Unsure whether indulging in gossiping behind the other brothers’ backs is a good idea in the long run. This garners his attention as he lowers his shades again to eye you, the only person who hadn’t chimed in until now. There’s a brief look of speculation before a smirk breaks across his face. Pushing the shades back so they’re resting atop his head, Tim returns his gaze forward as he looks across the yard.

“Well… say it’s Dick,” the boy proffers, “he and Kori are constantly on and off at best. That’s just a lot more drama than I’d want to deal with, personally, but if that’s your thing- be my guest.” Of course, you’re sure he isn’t actually advising Daisha to go off and start flirting with them considering your age gaps. You can’t deny the tidbits he’s only starting to divulge utterly capture your attention, however. “But if that’s not enough, he’s so… hot-headed. Either cool as a cucumber or a flaming douchewad”

“Honestly… I could see it,” Daisha comments with a tilt of her head as her eyes drift to the couple across the yard, talking on the patio with their other friends: Gar and Rachel.

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed,” you respond. “Well, the first part anyways.”

“And if it’s Damian?” Tim scoffs again, a sort of laugh having mixed with it. “Forget about it! The little devil only cares if you’re an animal, and has no sense of a filter.”

“And lastly, if it’s Jason… well… then actually he’s probably your best bet. I mean, he’s sensitive, smarter than he looks, and is a good cook. Though he’s also somewhat impatient, righteous, and then there’s definitely the way that he’s more of a lone wolf, so… if you can put with that then, I guess by all means.” Tim chuckles as he shrugs, curious as to Daisha’s thoughts. As the girl looks over the party’s guests, she looks back at Tim with a dumbfounded look. Everyone has their red flags, you suppose.

————

Opening the back door, you tug your towel a little tighter around yourself as you try to keep it from falling. The empty platter you’d been asked to bring in by Mister Kent makes balancing the tasks tedious. Really, you’d wanted any task to get your mind off things, and perhaps go inside for a moment alone.

“Are you kidding me? You’re really going to fight this?!” Jason shouts. Finally raising your eyes to the scene before you in the kitchen, the men stand circled on the other side of the room behind the island.

“What? Like it caused a huge problem? She-” Dick scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Like she has any friends! We were only trying to help,” Damian says. Hands settling on his hips, he tilts his head in triumph up at the group.

“Boys-” Bruce grits through his teeth. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Oh really?” Tim chimes in. “Because you were so thoughtful!”

“It’s her birthday,” Bruce adds on.

“Oh, like you were being thoughtful by inviting Clark and Diana,” Dick accuses Bruce, turning his attention on the older man. The slow movement of the empty platter in your hand onto the counter to your left catches his attention. Out of the corner of his eyes he spots you.

Bruce clears his throat and straightens his posture. “Actually, I-” he tries to clarify himself.

“Exactly! Took the words out of my mouth,” Tim comments pridefully as he turns his focus from Dick to Bruce.

“It’s not your party either! You don’t get a say,” Damian argues with Tim.

“Guys,” Dick calls, his eyes on you with a guilty look. His eyes linger on you.

“And you’re still arguing this,” Jason sighs.

Tim clears his throat, having spotted you along with Dick. Before the rest of the group catches on, Alfred comes in from the dining room directly to your right. “What’s wrong?” He asks you worriedly. The unexpected voice is what gauges everyone’s attention. As Alfred’s hand slips onto your shoulder as he looks down at your wet cheeks, he has a sympathetic look on her face. “What’s going on?” His kindness suddenly turns sour as he turns his attention onto the men before you.

“We-” Damian begins, but a pointed look from Alfred shuts him up. If anyone was going to give a valuable explanation of what truly aspired, it certainly wasn’t Damian.

“I was trying to point out how shitty it was that they all invited their friends when the party isn’t for them,” Jason elucidates with a cross of his arms over his chest.

“We just thought it might be nice for there to be more people,” Dick adds on, rebutting Jason’s point.

“Yeah, she only has one friend!” Damian chides exasperatedly.

Alfred puts his hand up, effectively shutting them all up from any further comments. “Well, quite frankly I am sorely disappointed in the lot of you. Each of you knew better and even if you had good intentions in mind, it is still Miss-” he says your name, “birthday, and yet you have all made her cry.”

With a shake of your head, you wipe the tears from your cheeks, no longer crying. “It’s okay! Really,” you protest, “I’m not crying because anyone invited anyone, I just…” head hanging a little, you sigh before facing Alfred again. “If there was anyone I really wanted here, it was my mom. I realized that… she’s not gonna be there for anymore of my birthdays. And she was always the one who was there.” Voice dwindling the longer you speak, you find yourself getting choked up again. So much so that you have to turn toward the door again, the bright and festive landscape just outside the screen a stark contrast to the dark shadow seemingly surrounding you.

You don’t know if the sudden quiet in the kitchen is appreciated or not compared to the fighting that’d been taking place just moments ago. Behind your back all the men give each other looks as no one truly knows what to do, how to make it better for you. Yet, the old man comes through once more. With a hesitant and gentle touch of his hand to your shoulder again, Alfred’s presence is known. Perhaps it’s the warmth in his touch that makes you feel somehow cared for, or the way he’d stuck up for you when you didn’t even know you needed someone to.

“May I offer you a tidbit I’ve been pondering on,” Alfred proposes quietly. While you don’t face him, you simply nod; wiggling your nose, you don’t want any of them to see this side of you, crying, nose starting to run. “I may not have known your mother, yet, from everything I’ve heard about her, I can surmise that… I believe she would be happy that you’re taken care of, and, that it looked like you were having fun today.”

He lets the sentiment linger in the air for a moment before ever so gently tugging on your shoulder, encouraging you to face him. “Would you say that’s at least a somewhat accurate assumption?” The old man questions, the inkling of a smile on his lips as he simultaneously looks you over. It’s hard to say, really, the thought hadn’t crossed your mind… yet, deep down you know he’s right. Lips curling in on themselves, you nod slowly.

“Yeah,” you quietly respond. “I just… didn’t think about her at all, until… now.” While you’d managed to quell the silent tears, the hard truth you hadn’t wanted to admit stirs something in your gut as your eyes begin to well up.

“Can I give you a hug?” Alfred asks, hand tacitly beckoning forth the men outside your peripheral vision. Tentatively you nod in response, which leads to the man enveloping you in his arms. Clearly he doesn’t care if your bathing suit or towel dampen him. The tears naturally fall, and you grieve the loss of your mother once again. Yet, somehow the burden is slightly lessened as you feel not one pair, but two, then three, then so many you’ve lost count begin to surround you. It’s somewhat suffocating, honestly, yet the knowledge that you’re not alone, and these people actually care for you is something that makes you feel exactly what he’d said: cared for.

When you finally all break off and head back outside, you find that falling back into the rhythm and excitement of the party is easy. Overall, it’d been a fun day! Seeing Lois Lane in a stunning one piece and gigantic sun hat was so unlike anything you’d ever seen before, not to mention that you’d gotten to play football with their son, Jon. Sure, maybe a part of it was to impress Billy with your skills, but you’d all had a blast! You’d also gotten to meet your Father’s closest friends. Getting to know Clark Kent better, he seems like a nice and fun guy. Diana Prince was definitely fun to talk to, her business in art restoration eliciting a lot of curious questions on your behalf. Then there was also the fact that she was just generally stunning and you wish you could know some of her beauty secrets.

Then there was Steph who showed up with another friend in tow: Connor. He was fun, offering for you to join them as they played a sort of makeshift Volleyball game in the pool. Surprisingly, your team of you, Connor, and Daisha won against Steph, Tim, and another friend who’d showed up later: Kara. You’d have thought she and Stephanie were practically twins if she hadn’t introduced herself. Unfortunately, she couldn’t stay long and you didn’t really get the chance to talk to her all that much, but her cheery personality definitely uplifted the energy of the party.

Next, you finally were introduced to your apparent cousin who’d come late: Helena, as your Father introduced. She definitely appeared bougie from the looks of her, though that’s something you actually were impressed by, silently wishing to one day embody such an aesthetic. Lastly, Billy’s brother ‘intruded’ for a few minutes as his family had come to pick him up, the brother named Freddy exuding a whirlwind of excitement as he raved about your family’s legacy. You couldn’t deny he was funny, and you had wished he’d showed up earlier.

Lying in bed that night, you run over the day’s events and can’t help but feel that it was a definite success as you remember the way everyone had gathered around you with the lights turned off on the patio as they sang Happy Birthday to you. The wish had taken a moment as you hadn’t known what to possibly wish for, yet ultimately it came to you. Everyone made you feel utterly whole, and as you’d taken the time to talk to your mom’s picture later, informing her of the day’s events, you can’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe you’re making progress. It’d been a good day. Heck, a great day. You’d even gotten a few moments to flirt with Billy when Daisha distracted the other two with her words and charms.

The others’ birthdays pass in quick succession. Alfred and Jason have a joint birthday, the party lively and filled with a nice dinner and board games to follow. You’d been surprised by your Father’s talent at charades, while Damian’s struggle at Scrabble was somewhat illuminating.

Next is Damian’s birthday, which is everything you’d expect of a teen turning fifteen. Filled with his close knit of friends, you all enjoyed a day of laser tag, cake, and putting up with the birthday boy’s behavior. It wasn’t awful, but it’d been interesting to see the boy attempt to truly enjoy himself. Weirdly it seemed as though it came second nature for him.

————

Knocking on the door, you’re quickly met by someone unexpected. Lips parting in shock, your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Billy?” As the two of you stare at one another, it doesn’t take long for a bigger hand to wind up on the door, opening it wider.

“Aren’t you gonna invite her in?” Mister Kent asks with a chuckle. “Come on in,” he says your name. It elicits an appreciative smile, as you hadn’t thought he’d remembered, or that he cared, but apparently you were wrong. “You two know each other?” He asks, closing the door behind you as the two of you shuffle further inside.

“We’ve met,” Billy replies hesitantly, green eyes shifting over to meet yours. A sheepish smile sits on his lips.

“Briefly,” you add. “I just came by to pick up-“

“-Damian. Of course! No problem,” Mister Kent repeats your name, “we’re just setting the table. Do you want to help? The boys are out back, but we’re about to sit down and have dinner.” Upon this revelation, you’re confused as to why Billy’s here, nevertheless, you put on a gracious smile and nod your head.

“Sure!” You respond. Mister Kent shoves forks and knives in your hands, a stack of plates wedged in the crook of his arm.

“I’m assuming you’ll be joining us? Do you mind grabbing another set, Billy?” Mister Kent asks. “You showed up just in time!” With a smile in your direction, you feel a little embarrassed. Now you’re the one with a sheepish smile. Billy nods and heads into where you assume the kitchen is. As Mister Kent walks through the open doorway to the dining room, you find yourself feeling bad for having to turn them down.

“Alfred is actually making us something right now. I was just sent to pick up Damian, since I’m working on my driver’s license right now,” you reveal. With a thick swallow, you meet the man’s eyes with a saddened smile.

“Well, it’ll take at least an hour and a half to drive back, so what if you call up Alfred and tell him you’ll be late? No sense in him starting something when we’ve got plenty to share. Plus, I’m sure Jon would love to see you again.”

Mentally debating it, Mister Kent distracts you with another question. Multitasking, he starts putting down the plates and arranging the cups that were already on the table. “Also, if you only have your permit—forgive me,” he states your name, “-but how did you drive all the way here? Aren’t you supposed to have an adult with you to supervise?”

An awkward chuckle leaves your lips as your free hand comes up to rub at the back of your neck. “I did! Sort of… everyone else is away, so Alfred was the only one available and he was on FaceTime the whole time I was driving-“

“-so you were on the phone and driving the whole way here?! Absolutely not, I’ll-“

“-It was Alfred’s idea! Plus, he said he didn’t have time to pick up Damian and go with me for driving hours, so-“ You defend.

“-I still don’t see in any way how that’s a-“

“-Oh, hush now, Clark. She was obviously safe, and if anything were to happen then at least Alfred would be able to call someone, right?” A woman interrupts as she walks out from the kitchen holding a plate of corn cobs and a bowl of baked beans. Sliding around the big man, she places the items down on the table. Billy chuckles in the doorway of the kitchen as he watches the man capitulate to the woman’s defense.

“Right…” you slowly get out. Though it dawns on you who this is, now that you can see her face. “You’re Lois Lane! The reporter- the journalist from the Daily Planet!” It comes out before you can stop it, and you’re suddenly visibly in awe at the fact that you’re literally in the room with a celebrity.

“That, I am. I take it you’re a fan? I’m glad some kids are still into literature and current events in this day and age,” she responds, “lord knows so many kids are all about that tick talk now and all those different YouTube celebrities.” With a deep breath, she places her hands on the back of the chair at the head of their table.

“Anyway, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says your name, “I’ve heard so little of you I was beginning to think you were just a story my boys made up! Please, sit. We’re just bringing out the rest of the food. Don’t let Clark guilt you into helping him like he did, Billy,” she chides. With a laugh she heads back into the kitchen, sneaking around her husband once more.

“I did not guilt him,” Clark defends, “did I guilt you into helping me, Billy?” The man looks over at the boy leaning against the doorway’s frame watching the whole scene pan out before him. Suddenly with the attention on him, he jumps into action, placing the final setting in the last seat open at the table.

“I wouldn’t say ‘guilt’… though I did only come in to use the bathroom,” Billy responds, chuckling at the end as he tries to play his words off as a joke. “I don’t mind helping though. I have to do this every Tuesday night at home anyways.”

“Why Tuesdays?” Clark questions, finally standing up to his full height again as he’s done straightening the plates and cups.

A goofy smile emerges on the boy’s lips as he shrugs. “I don’t know, cause every other day was taken, I guess? I mean, there are six of us, so there’s not a lot of other days to choose from when they’ve all already picked, you know?” He jokes.

Processing all this new information, you’re still stunned that Lois Lane knew your name, and heard about you from the men. While you’d probably wonder what they’d told her any other time, Billy’s words have you wishing he’d say more, curious to hear more about him. “You… have six siblings?”

“Don’t you have, like, five?” He retorts, looking down at you from where he stands by the opposite head of the table Lois had been at.

“Touché,” you reply, “though to be fair, I didn’t know I had any till a few months ago, and… really I’m only related to one of them.”

“I guess that’s cool. I mean, I’m not technically related to any of my siblings so there’s that,” Billy comments.

Lois pesters Clark to sit down, so he heads to the other end of the table to sit at the other head. She lies a plate full of veggies and another with buns and burgers on them upon the table. “Would you guys mind getting the boys? Then let me know what you’d all like to drink.” As she heads back into the kitchen, you look from the man to Billy, who nods for you to follow him.

Rounding the wall cutout between the dining room and living room, you walk past their couch, coffee table, and television to the sliding glass door. “So… you’re getting your license?” Billy asks.

“Trying to,” you joke. As you brush your hair behind your ears, you listen as the boy goes on about summer coming to an end.

“You’re gonna be a… Senior?” He questions, turning his green eyes on you as he comes to a stop only a few meters from the house.

“Yeah! And you?”

“Same. I honestly can’t believe it,” he admits with a shake of his head. As the two of you linger there, eyes meeting and averting each other, he eventually draws his attention to the laundry hung up on the clothesline a yard in front of you. “Jon! Damian! Dinner time,” he yells between cupped hands.

Soon enough you’re all sat around the table. A prayer ensues before you all dig in, passing dishes around the table in a manner you’re more accustomed to than dinner at home. “Do you have any plans for the fall?” Lois asks you, your name falling off her tongue easily.

With a swallow of the corn in your mouth, you nod your head. “Well, Alfred has really been pushing for me and Damian to do something after school, like sports or something,” you begin, everyone’s attention falling onto you with intent expectation. “And I thought maybe it’d be fun to try out for the cheerleading squad. The tryouts are next week, so, I’ve been trying to practice and get ready.”

“That’s amazing! I hope tryouts go well,” Lois compliments. “Are you trying out for anything Damian?”

An annoyed scoff slips past his lips as the boy has to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. “No. I think not, though there are a few clubs that may have caught my intrigue. I doubt they’ll be up to standard but it’s worth scouting out the competition.”

“I’m joining Chess Club!” Jon adds.

“Well, these all sound like fruitful endeavors. What about you Billy?” Clark asks.

A thoughtful hum comes from the boy, even if he has his head downward on his plate, pushing the food around. “I’m not entirely sure yet.”

“Well, I know some sports stop taking people before the school year starts, and clubs fill up fast. So I’d check with the school to see what you can do! It’d definitely look good on your resume going forward,” Lois posits.

Continuing to indulge in idle conversation throughout dinner, soon enough it’s ended and of course Lois insists she can handle the dishes. Bidding the Kent family goodbye, Lois and Clark offer you a tight hug before stopping you at the door. “You’re welcome here anytime,” Clark states.

“We wanted you to know that. While we don’t know the entire circumstance of your situation, we wanted to let you know we’re here for you,” Lois expands.

With the warm sentiment and full bellies, you’re off. Still somewhat giddy that you’d gotten a hug from Billy, you try to memorize the feeling. You’d also gotten one from Jon, too, which was nice, but… you can’t help the way you feel about Billy. While Damian had vaguely put up a fight against you driving, it was his only option of getting home, so he acquiesced. Nevertheless, you’re feeling hopeful for the beginning of the new school year!

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo , @penelopepine

hog taglist: @luvly-writer , @clairese1980 , @theroyalmanatee , @azazel-nyx , @nightrose-18 , @vanessa-boo , @ih4temy5elfs0b4d , @agent-nobody-knows , @scarlett13 , @hoeinthehouse , @huhhuhh , @maxinehufflepuffprincess , @no-lessthan3

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Other Half

Winter Prompts Masterlist | Winter Prompts List

Part Two | Masterlist

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Prompts: Sales/ Sparkling/ Opposites Attract

“Customer.” 

You glance over toward a man looking in a display case as your manager nods them toward you. You puff softly before slapping a customer-service-ready smile onto your face. You’ve been avoiding really working for the last hour; you’ve been able to hide, shuffling things around in the stockroom before your manager had insisted that you return to the floor. You’re working on commission, though—you need the sales, especially with Christmas just around the corner. You still have a couple of last-minute gifts to get. 

You walk over to the man peering into a sparkling display case, stopping just beside him. 

“Is there something I can help you find today?” You ask. 

“Yes,” The man raises his hand, tapping on the top of the case. “I’d like to see that tie clip, the uh…The silver one with the scroll work.”

There's something familiar about his voice, but you don't read too much into it. You round the counter, drawing a small key ring from your pocket. 

“The sterling silver? An excellent choice. It’s one of a kind,” You commend as you lift the small display out of the case and onto the counter. “And we have a special sale on these this week.” 

The man chuckles, offering, “I’m not particularly worried about it being on sale.” 

Cocky much? 

You glance at the man, then freeze, eyes widening. There’s no way that the goddamn Prince of Gotham is on your counter right now. Luckily for you, he’s focused on the tie clips. Maybe he knows you’re staring and is just ignoring it. Maybe he’s just so used to the sensation that he simply doesn’t register it anymore. 

You clear your throat, forcing yourself to refocus as he reaches out, hand hovering over the tie clip. 

“May I?” He asks. 

“Of course,” You nod. You don’t expect him to run with it—the guy’s got more money than god. He slides his coat off of where it’s slung over his arm, setting it down on the counter and taking up the tie clip. You rest your hands steadily on the counter, watching his face as he eyes the clip. His eyes narrow a touch as he sweeps his thumb over the scroll work.

“May I ask who you’re purchasing this for?” You ask. 

“My butler.” 

Your brows raise a touch. You’d imagine that Bruce Wayne would be the type to give someone a store credit, and to tell them to buy something they like. 

“What’s his style?” You ask, though it feels like the wrong question—and by the way Wayne’s eyes flicker to you, you realize that it sort of is. 

“I suppose he’d describe it as understated. I call it boring.” He looks back down at the tie clip. “I was hoping to get him something to mix it up a little bit.” 

You smile a little. 

“Well, if you like that tie clip, we have matching cuff links to pair with them.” 

“I’d like to see those.” 

“Of course.” You crouch down again, drawing up the display with cuff links and setting it on the counter beside the tie clips. He sets the tie clip down, leaning over and narrowing his eyes slightly to look at the cuff links. After a moment, to your great surprise, he plants his elbow on the counter and rests his chin on his hand. You can’t help but smile. He looks like an indecisive little boy.

“What does your butler like?” You ask. 

“...Mopping,” He answers after a moment, “And berating me.” 

You laugh a little, unable to help it. “Something tells me he only really likes one of those.” 

Wayne’s gaze flickers to yours, and you’re surprised to see him smiling, himself. It makes your smile widen before you arch a brow. “So?” 

“Come to think of it, he likes gardening,” Wayne adds, straightening up. 

“Perhaps a new set of gardening gloves?” You offer.  “Or a trug?” 

“What’s a trug?” 

“It’s like a long sort of shallow basket for carrying back flowers and produce and tools.” 

“...They sell those here?” 

“Yes,” You nod, “The gardening section is on the fifth floor.” 

“Okay,” He nods, rapping his knuckles on the counter. “Wrap up the tie clip and the cuff links, and then let’s go.” 

You blink at him in surprise before you glance back toward where your manager is watching you closely. 

“Ah—I’m not sure I can go with you to another floor,” You laugh nervously as you take up gift boxes for the tie clip and cuff links. “But I’ll be happy to call down and ask for a a sales associate that could help you.” 

Wayne frowns a touch, gaze sweeping you before he looks around. “Where’s your manager?” 

Oh—No. Are you going to get in trouble for following the fricking rules? Is he going to change his mind about the tie clip and the cuff links? The two items alone would net you a commission of almost $500. But you force a placid expression onto your face before raising your hand, signaling for your manager to come over. A dark expression crosses her face, and it turns your stomach. 

“Yes, sir,” She chirps, coming to the counter and stopping beside Wayne, “How can I—” She goes silent as she realizes who he is. Her jaw drops a touch at the sight of him before she stutters, “How can I—I—Yes, sir?” 

Wayne’s smile shifts to something that you haven’t seen at the counter—a press-ready, plasticized grin. 

“Your associate has been incredibly helpful.” 

“I trained her myself,” Your manager grins. You can’t help but roll your eyes. She certainly did not—you’ve been here for a year longer than she has. 

“Well, you’ve done a marvelous job,” Wayne insists. “In fact, I’ve found her assistance so invaluable that I was hoping you could spare her for a little while.” 

“Spare…?” The manager repeats, eyes darting between you, Wayne, and the gift boxes on the counter. 

“Mr. Wayne is interested in a few items in the gardening department,” You clarify. 

“Her sense of style and function are just…” Wayne trails off, lips curling teasingly as he shoots you a sneaky, cheeky wink, “Just what I need.” 

You don’t even care if he’s exaggerating for the sake of your manager; the flattery still makes your face go hot, and that wink—you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. 

“I suppose we could manage without her for a little while—But not too long. She’s such a valuable asset to the department,” Your manager coos. Well. That’s news to you—especially considering how much you slacked off that morning. 

“If you could have these rung up,” Wayne reaches out, tapping at the top of the gift boxes, “And hold them for me here.” 

“Of course. They were the…” Your manager glances toward you expectantly. 

“The sterling silver scroll work tie clip, and the matching cuff links,” You relay. 

“What beautiful choices! You have such a sense of taste, Mr. Wayne,” You manager turns a bright eye toward him again. You have to bite your tongue to keep from scoffing aloud. You’ve never seen her fawn over anyone like this. Mr. Wayne just smiles and gives a nod, taking up his coat from the counter as you tuck the two displays back into the counter, locking them up. 

“Shall we?” Wayne asks, nodding toward the elevator. 

“Of course,” You nod.

“Take your time!” Your manager adds brightly. 

“Thank you,” Wayne rests his hand on her shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze before turning away. The two of you walk over to the elevator, and you clasp your hands in front of yourself as you wait. Wayne gestures for you to step on first, then follows, watching you jab the button for the fifth floor. It’s quiet between you for a moment before Wayne says,

“Is she always that bad?” 

You can’t help but burst into giggles, raising your hand and covering your mouth. 

“I think you brought something new out in her,” You tease. You lead the way off of the elevator as you reach the fifth floor. “Do you have any other people that you need to shop for?” 

“What other people?” Wayne repeats. Your stomach swoops with panic. You know what happened to his parents—everyone does. 

“A girlfriend, perhaps?” You clarify. 

“Ah,” He nods in understanding before shaking his head. “No.” The two of you go quiet for a moment before he asks, “Have you gotten all of your shopping done?” 

“Not all of it,” You sigh. 

“What do you still need?” 

“Something for my roommate—and uh, probably something for her parents. We’re going to hers for Christmas.” 

“What about your family?” 

“They live in Metropolis.” 

“Are you from there?” 

“No, no, I’m from Gotham. They moved there last year.” 

“Why?” 

“It’s just more affordable.” It feels like something stupid to say to a billionaire, but it’s the truth—and considering his comment on your manager’s countenance, you think he’s pretty good at seeing through falsity. But he just nods a little bit, looking forward. 

“Here,” You gesture toward the display of gardening gloves, tucking your hands behind yourself. Wayne hums, taking a step closer and peering at the selection with the same interest that he looked at the tie clips and cuff links. 

“Are there any that stick out to you?” You ask, looking around. 

“He has a scarf similar to…Those,” He points to a check-patterned pair by you. You let out an interested hum, nodding and taking them up. 

“They’re cute,” You turn them over, eyeing the fingertips, “And they’ve got little pads so that you can text while you’re wearing them.” 

“I’m not sure Alfred would worry about that,” Wayne smiles, “Though I’ll be sure to mention it to him.” 

You smile a little before nodding to the display. “All set here?” 

“Mm, let’s make it two pair…You choose one.” 

You consider, looking down at the gloves in your hand. If he’s getting one patterned pair…Maybe a plain pair? You look around, drawing your lip between your teeth as you consider. Then you reach out, snagging a pair of forest green gloves. Wayne reaches out, taking them from you. 

“He’ll like these,” He says softly. You smile, relieved. 

“Now,” Wayne adds, looking around. He seems to be squinting and pouting for emphasis. “On to the…shrug?” 

“Trug,” You correct, “But I think you know that, Mr. Wayne.” 

He catches your eye, his brows twitching in surprise. Then he smiles warmly, giving a small nod of concession, muttering, “Touché.” 

“They’re this way,” You nod around the corner. 

It doesn’t take the two of you long to choose what he considers a suitable trug—a light grained wood base with mahogany handles and silver fastenings. You expect to leave it there—to lead Wayne to the counter, to thank him for his business, and to go back to work. Instead, Wayne tells the clerk that he’ll be back for the gloves and trug, and then turns to you. 

“Walk me to the elevator?” He asks. 

“Of course.” 

You ignore your coworker’s stunned expression and turn, leading the way down the aisle. Maybe he wants to go back upstairs and get the cuff links and tie clip. But—

“What are you doing for lunch?” He asks. 

-- 

It feels like an illicit rush to get out of there—redirecting Wayne to the staff exit so that you wouldn’t be clocked by the security guard for leaving. He’d put his coat around your shoulders as the two of you had stepped into the Gotham chill. You hadn’t gone far—you’d insisted that you couldn’t. You’d wound up at a diner just a few blocks away from the store. 

You glance at Wayne now, and smile as you watch him look around the diner. 

“Why’d you ask me?” You ask after a moment. “Wanted to see how the other half eats?” 

He chuckles, leaning back in his seat a touch and meeting your eye again. “I’ll have you know that I ate at plenty of places like this when I went to Princeton. Besides, you said you wanted to come here.” 

“If I had asked to go somewhere else—” 

“We would’ve gone there instead.” 

“Even if it was some five-star something something?” 

“Especially if it was some five-star something something. I’m guessing the wine list here is a little lackluster.” 

You snort, looking down at your menu. 

“...Why did you ask?” You press nervously. He doesn’t answer for a moment, and you glance up at him from beneath your lashes. He’s watching you closely, eyes wandering your face. 

“Because you spoke to me like a person. Not like how your manager spoke to me, not like I’m ‘Bruce Wayne’.” 

The admission is surprising. You hesitate before you argue, “But you are Bruce Wayne.” 

He smiles softly. 

“I know that and you know that,” He leans in, folding his arms on the table. “But I like it better when neither of us act like it.” 

Part Two

Tag list: @amneris21 ; @elen-aranel ; @brandyllyn ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight

[browniesarethebest]

So this is the oldest issue I own (and if anyone knows my writing well they can probably guess why I own this lol) and I’m finally getting around to reading it and it’s…definitely weird lol

First of all, I was not expecting it to be 3 stories in 1 comic. I feel like that hasn't occurred in the other comics I have read (though to be fair those have pretty much been just some early Teen Titans comics and one of the early Detective Comics on DC Universe Infinite)

The first story involves weird plants that can kind of just do anything, like melt safes and freeze waterfalls

There’s a guy with amnesia and it turns out he’s an alien who brought seeds to Earth and who accidentally hit his head and gave himself amnesia. He gets his memory back pretty quick and helps Batman and Robin because he doesn’t like his plants being used for evil and then leaves and that’s the end of that story.

The next story involves a scavenger hunt for treasure. There’s nothing really special about this one except for this funny picture of a reflection of Batman

BUT FINALLY we get to what I bought this comic for and it does not let down. First of all Gotham just fucking publishes this because why not

(Ngl Bruce just looks really cute in this next panel)

So then it turns out that he looks four but still has the strength of a grown man so Garth fucked up with his machine here (also Bruce’s head just looks kinda weird while he’s punching the bag)

So then Bruce goes out to fight in those little overalls and kicks some ass, so of course Gotham has to publish the news about it, and honestly kinda roast him in the process

("Does okay for a kid" lmao)

They finally figure out where the guy with the ray is and go after him. Batman of course turns himself back and is suddenly wearing his batman costume. How did he explain that? He kept a plastic version of the suit folded up in one of his little pockets of his overalls

Oh yeah and there's also a little side plot where Kathy Kane (who is his girlfriend and not his cousin at this point in time to ward off people saying Batman and Robin were a homosexual fantasy [looking at you Fredric Wertham]). Because he's a child and (I think at this point) doesn't know that he's secretly Batman, he wards her off by making her see a shadow of a cardboard cutout in the hallway that looks like Bruce Wayne kissing someone. She runs away angrily and Bruce says he'll make it up by letting her know a cousin was just visiting (which I find ironic considering that Kathy later becomes his cousin Kate)

And that's it! What a weird little comic from the 60s, though honestly I didn’t expect anything less. As someone who writes de-aged fics quite a bit I don’t think I’ve ever really seen the take where they still retain their adult strength (though I’ve obviously seen ones where they retain their adult mind). Someday I’ll have to read Sins of Youth, and I’ve already read that one issue based on the 2004 cartoon The Batman in which Bruce was de-aged there too.

[dearviper]

Certain Dark Things Chapter 21: So Close

WARNINGS: 18+ (minors dni!); mentions of suicide attempt, terrorism, suicidal ideation

Table of Contents | My Masterlist

The blinding brightness you had seen turned out to be the fluorescent lights flicking on as Edward walked in on your suicide attempt.

Frantically, he ran over and lifted your unconscious body, removing the pressure of the collar on your windpipe.

Pinning your body to the wall with his own to keep you from hanging again, he detached the cable and laid you out on the floor.

As he saw the gentle rise and fall of your chest, he let out a silent sigh of relief. You weren’t dead, then, just unconscious.

Rushing out of the room, he grabbed a bag of zip ties. Working quickly, he lugged you onto the bed and bound each limb to a post. This time, your neck was untethered apart from the collar.

After a few minutes you blinked blearily back to the world of the living. Your eyes focused on Edward sitting before you, and fat tears pooled in them.

“You should have let me die,” you rasped out in little more than a whisper, your damaged throat impeding your ability to speak.

“You don’t get to die until I decide you can.”

Edward’s tone was icy, bordering on offended. He was not keeping you alive out of love, but rather because you had tried to take the life he felt he owned.

You said nothing in response, only watching him with deadened eyes. Edward shook his head with something akin to disgust and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

In your state of numbness, time flew by. Edward dragged you out into the living room and slept there as well since you were now on suicide watch.

He fed you and let you use the bathroom after each meal, but apart from that he ignored you.

Despite his apparent desire to keep you alive, he had seemingly grown bored with you now that you no longer fit his fantasy. You were like spoiled fruit he just couldn’t bring himself to throw out.

On the one hand, you welcomed the cessation of his affection; there was no more unwanted touching, no more kisses you had to wince your way through.

On the other, the complete lack of human interaction had your already unstable mental state teetering on the brink of collapse. It was like he was keeping you alive just to punish you.

You still had to deal with his constant mood swings — the nervous excitement before each stream, the aggravated snipes each time something didn’t go according to plan, the gloomy moods that sometimes overtook him when he glanced at you.

Even his eruption of rage when he learned that Bruce Wayne survived the bombing was not enough to elicit more than a slight flinch at his volume.

Tried though he did not to let it show, your indifference to his plans vexed him. He didn’t expect a positive reaction, but he did expect something.

Even if you railed against him, he would consider that an improvement over the passionless black hole you had become since your attempt.

Maybe I should just put her out of her misery already, he thought with frustration, shooting you a dark look that you also did not react to.

He contemplated throwing you back in with the rats just to see if you were still capable of feeling, but decided it wasn’t worth the hassle.

You were all but catatonic, and he didn’t even bother threatening you to stay silent when the time came for his final stream.

Cracking his neck, he pulled on his mask and turned to face the camera.

“Hey, guys. Uh, thanks for all the comments and, uh, a special thanks to everyone for the tips on detonators…”

Though you would never admit it, his streams sparked your curiosity. The banal horror of his words wheedled past the barrier of apathy and into your brain. The whole thing was so casual to him, so routine.

He went on to say his goodbyes. There was a certain tenderness to them, as if he truly considered these criminals to be his friends.

“Let’s just say none of us…” He glanced in your direction, and you made eye contact for the first time in days. “...is alone anymore. Okay?”

He turned back to the screen and paused, taking deep, huffing breaths like he was trying not to cry.

The surprising show of vulnerability had pulled you fully from your stupor, and you listened more keenly to his words.

“Tomorrow’s Election Day,” he stated, laughing with disbelief.

It’s November, then, you mused, though you had long since stopped caring about the date.

“And Bella Real will win. She promised real change. But we know the truth, don’t we? You’ve seen Gotham’s true face now. Together, we’ve unmasked it. Its corruption, its perversion, masquerading under the guise of renewal. But unmasking is not enough.”

Abruptly, he stood and grabbed the camcorder, making sure to avoid capturing you in its frame. He passed right by you, and you craned your neck to follow his path.

Behind you on the hardwood floor was a map of the city lined with blinking lights. You had watched him construct it, but in your fugue state you had not bothered to ask what it was for.

“And now it is time for retribution.”

A chill went down your spine at the giddiness in his tone.

“I’ve parked seven vans all along the city seawall. And on the big night,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “they will go boom.”

Your stomach dropped at his words.

“When the vans blow, the flooding will happen so fast evacuation will not be an option. Those who are not washed away will race through the streets in terror. As breaking news hits higher ground in Gotham Square Garden, celebrations will turn to panic as the venue becomes the city’s shelter of last resort.

“And that’s where all of you come in. Now, when the time arrives I will already be unmasked. The pigs will already have me in their custody, but that’s okay. Because then it will be your turn. You’ll be there. Waiting.”

Your breath had failed you, and you were growing more light-headed by the second. Despite your fear, morbid curiosity kept you from losing consciousness.

“It’s time for the lies to finally end. False promise of renewal? Change?”

In his excited state, the Riddler’s voice grew louder and louder, as if he were a reverend giving a sermon to his congregation of terrorists.

“We’ll give them a real, real change now!” he promised breathlessly, swaying back and forth as he preached into the camera. “We’ve spent our lives in this wretched place, SUFFERING!”

You jumped in your seat as he suddenly screamed, but he took no notice of your movements. He was too far gone in his delirium, too engrossed by his own plan.

“Wondering, ‘why us?’ Now they will spend their last moments wondering, ‘WHY THEM?!’”

You were more prepared for the second scream, but your dread at his words had you shaking in your seat. As he signed off, you could only stare at him with wide eyes.

He caught your gaze and ripped off his mask with an amused smile.

“She lives.” Edward’s voice was both surprised and taunting.

“You’re going to blow up the seawall?” you asked, agape in horror. He gave a slow nod, watching for further reaction. “You can’t.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Can’t I?”

Bastard.

You pressed on in a pleading tone. “Marisol lives by the seawall. The people there aren’t the rich and powerful — they’re the poorest, the people who need the most help.”

“And you’re their patron saint begging for their lives, is that right?"

Furiously, you shook your head. “No! But I thought you had a mission, a code! If you kill indiscriminately, how are you any better than the men you wanted revenge on?”

“‘For behold, I will bring a flood of waters upon the earth to destroy all flesh in which is the breath of life under heaven,’” he quoted the Bible with zeal. “Gotham will be wiped clean of all evil.”

“You’re not God, Edward.”

A twisted smile crossed his face. “Of course not. There is no God — at least, not one who cares about us. I’m just filling in.”

You should have known this was coming. Of course Edward would not be satisfied with a few righteous assassinations. It was always going to end like this. It was inevitable. Predestined.

Your shoulders sagged as the realization hit you, and you shrank back into your shell and regarded him with weary eyes. Finally, you spoke in a small voice.

“You win.”

His suspicious eyes snapped up to meet yours.

“What?”

“You win, Edward,” you repeated in a dull tone. “I’m done fighting. I know I’m not getting out of here, I know I’m not changing your mind, so you win.”

You expected gloating, smugness, the degradation of your honor and your gender. Instead, he surprised you with a hollow laugh.

“No,” he answered with an almost sad sigh. “I really didn’t.”

Seeing your look of confusion, he continued. “All I wanted… I just wanted you to love me. Would that have been so bad?”

You took a moment before answering truthfully. “That’s what I wanted at first too, you know. I really did like you.”

“I suppose we missed the boat there.”

“I suppose so,” you replied in a dull, defeated voice.

You had no energy left to tell him it was his own damn fault; it wouldn’t matter either way. He would never accept the responsibility of what he had done to you, or to Gotham.

“So what now?” you asked, more to fill the silence than anything.

“The final stage of my plan will commence in one day. I had hoped to take you with me on the ark, but I realize now I was fooling myself. You don’t love me. You never will.”

You did not reply, but your silence was its own sort of confirmation as the two of you considered each other.

Ironically, this was the first and likely last time he spoke to you as if you were his equal. As if he was giving you one last shred of dignity before sending you to the slaughter.

One day, and then it would be over. One day more before he would take his ark and finally let you die. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t such a long wait.

You could hold out for one more day.

previous chapter | next chapter

[internalsealpanic]

Hello I love ur works & I come here to suggest this idea! Slade have romantic feeling for Bruce's close friend despite knowing that she can easily kick his ass. That could cause much trouble for three of them, couldn't it? :)

a/n: Sorry this took so very long! Merry Christmas! Special shout out to @littleredwing89 who convinced me to write this. This fic totally fits Christmas. There's a guy with a whitebeard, family gatherings and family drama. warning: Mentions of sex, crack, and batkids taking advantage of a situation (Jason particularly)

There is no blood in your smile but some detail, some quality of it makes it carnivorous and it makes something hot and wet stir in Slade. The feeling (if he can call it that) is almost naked in its intensity as it spreads through his chest. You dig your heel lightly into his chest, resting your weight on your knee, that smile never wavering. He can hear your heart beating with the rush of adrenaline the fight gave you. "Are you finally going to listen to my request or am I going to have to be more persuasive?" you say, keeping the breathiness out of your voice.

Slade snorts, sharp and derisive. Sure, he's all ears. You certainly have his attention. You've had his attention with that snug catsuit but the fact that he is flat on his back under your heel definitely helps keep his attention on you. He angles his head, partially to look you over and partially to show that he is in fact listening.

"I'd like you to go on a date with me."

His cursory glance over your body stalls as he processes your words. He grins up at you though he doubts you can see it through the mask still your smile melts into an annoyed scowl as a breathless chuckle starts to rumble from his chest. The way the corners of your mouth twitch down is too reminiscent of the Bat for Slade not to be amused.

"Kid, if I'd known you were interested— shit!" He growls as you dig your heel between his ribs. You weren't sadistic by nature but you knew what you were doing. The ribs beneath your heel crunch and Slade isn’t a masochist by nature but he may be turned on. “So, I assume you don’t mind me asking what made you change your tune on my offer?” He asks, gripping your ankle.

You quirk your lips and shrug.

Your heart is steadily spilling out of your chest into your throat. It pulses painfully, crowding your breath out and leaving your lungs burning. You can remember so many times you've come through the doors of Wayne Manor with little more than the words 'we need to talk' as your one and only explanation.

It was too little.

Too vague.

Too horrible, letting your mind run amok with too many of Gotham's horrors playing around in your head.

Your footsteps are harsh, honestly, one brusque step away from just tossing your kitten heels and just running up the steps to ask Bruce what the hell was going on then you see him.

Jason calmly walks out from the kitchen, cheeks filled to the brim with Alfred's cookies.

"What?" Jason asks, crumbs flying out from his mouth.

Your eyes burn with tears brimming in your eyes as you throw your arms around Jason, squeezing the life out of him.

"Uh, hi?"

"Ok, you're not dead, so who is?"

"Why am I the first person you peg to die?" Jason squawks.

"Do you want the list?"

Jason seems to seriously consider this. "I'm guessing no."

You pinch his cheek, planting one of those gross spit-filled kisses aunts always give on TV shows. You could kiss their cheeks like a normal person. You could. But being the wonderful aunt that you are, you never miss the chance to have Bruce's children experience the full Auntie experience. Jason blanches and attempts to shove you off, muttering about how gross you are and how he might die if you keep embarrassing him. You would think the kid would be different after a few years but his reaction hasn't changed between 12 and 20. Your laugh is a little hysterical.

Your senses return to you when Jason finally manages to wiggle out of your grip. Jason rubs at his cheek as if he was trying to peel the skin off his face.

“Ok seriously, who is on the market for a coffin?” you ask, not really letting go of him.

“Dunno.” “What do you mean ‘dunno’?” “Well, it’s a portmanteau of ‘don’t’ and ‘know’— Ow! What the hell? Ok, ok, fine. Bruce didn’t actually tell me anything. He just said there was an emergency.”

You groan. “How has Clark not drilled communication into his head yet?” Jason snorts. “Do you not notice how thick Bruce’s skull is? Superscout would have an easier time drilling to the center of the earth.”

You blow out an incredulous breath, your nerves settling even just a little.

You stomp into the room, the thunk of your heels filed to a vicious point as you direct a glare at Bruce that looked like it could peel paint off the wall. "Damian or Alfred better be on a gurney down at the Batcave. I canceled a fucking meeting for this," you snarl, still a little breathless. Your heart is still sitting at the base of your throat aching at the idea of either Damian or Alfred being injured.

"Oh god, they were meeting today," croaks a small voice and you find yourself caught off guard to see Dick crumpled in a corner. His knees are bent to his chest held in place by his arms.

"Who?" Jason asks, stepping into the room after you, arms still full with a cookie jar. Dick turns catatonic eyes to Jason and shakes his head mournfully. His face looks... ashen and it dawns on you, just now, what this was.

You stare at Bruce then at Dick then back at Bruce then up at the ceiling. Your face makes this expression that's more of a twitch rather than a coherent pattern as your facial muscle try to decide on what was the least inappropriate expression is for whatever the fuck Bruce is about to subject you to. Running your hand through your hair, you flop onto the nearest offensively comfortable couch, pointedly avoiding the stern look in Bruce's eyes. There's this twitch in his jaw that you feel should automatically be followed by grinding teeth but it isn't which makes it even more disconcerting.

You peek through your fingers and see the remote clutched in Bruce's hand and any moment not a projector light will turn on and the first slide will flash the words '(Y/n) (L/n)'s Current Life Decision', subtitled: 'An Intervention'.

You groan.

Bruce shifts against the table, posture uncomfortably stiff. "(Y/n), we need to talk. About Deathstroke."

"Need is a strong word."

Bruce doesn't dignify that with a response.

"Bruce, Brucie, B, I love you. I really do even if you are hands down the worst best friend in the world but you are literally the last person who is allowed to give me shit for my love life," you say, feeling your heart sinking down to the floor.

Cass and Duke who weren't interested before perk up and tear their eyes away from whatever game they were playing.

Jason frowns, lowering a cookie back into the jar. "You people called me all the way here to talk about her love life. What does Deathstroke even have to— Oh."

The rest of the room seems to process the words along with Jason. Tim chokes on his tea, spilling it on some important-looking documents that you hope aren’t for WE's marketing department. All eyes are on you now.

"Bruce, please stop."

"We need to talk about this."

"We really don't," Tim pipes up.

Cass throws a sock at him and Tim glares, starting to take his own sock off. Duke is handing Cass his, making his stance on the matter clear.

"Why couldn’t you have picked one of Bruce's villains?" Dick groans, head buried in his knees.

You scoff. "Duly noted, I'll see if I can contact Bane."

"Thank you," he says, looking like he can breathe again.

Bruce's mouth opens and closes trying to gather the words. "No! At least pick Harvey."

Dick's face crumples into a scowl. "Two-face almost killed me!"

"Seems like (Y/n) has a type," snickers Duke who's got his tongue poking out as he aims for Tim's head.

Slouching into the couch, you grin lazily. "I'm sorry, Dick. Duke's right. Men who almost kill you specifically are really hot."

"NO," Dick exasperates, "I refuse to call him Uncle Slade."

You blink, forehead crunching. "You... don't *need* to call him Uncle Slade. Jesus Bruce, what did you tell them?"

"That you needed help and that you're in a relationship with a very dangerous mercenary."

The word relationship is what really catches you here. It lands oddly like it falls on the wrong angle and can't quite fit right into your thoughts. "I'm not. We're not," you run your hand through your hair again. Your skin flushes as the frustration begins to boil beneath your skin. You very much consider chucking your heel at Bruce's head and call it a day.

"Ok, ok," Dick says, life coming back into his form as he bounces onto his heels. "Why him?" There's genuine curiosity in his eyes and you decide to latch on to that instead of the annoyance stirring in your chest.

You shrug. "Bruce pissed me off," you don't remember why, "and I was feeling petty so I... sort of invited Slade to spend the day with me just to get Bruce's blood pressure to skyrocket and we hit it off." You scowl at both of their bewildered looks. "It's not a thing. It's casual," you add. It comes out sounding more defensive than intended and you wince.

"Causal," Bruce repeats, laying the air quotes on thickly.

"Yes, casual," you affirm. "Bruce, I trust your expertise on a lot of things but relationships and emotions are on the very bottom of that list. How would you even know?"

"He gives you that look," Bruce hisses and for once, and this is impressive, he's left you utterly lost.

"What look? The one where he wants to pin me—"

"One more word and I am leaving this family," Dick says, face cradled in his hands.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. Tilting your head, you turn to Jason. "Jay, I will give you whatever car you want if you can either end this or turn your siblings against Bruce."

There's this evil little smile that spreads across Jason's face and the muscles of your face threaten to follow suit but you press it into the heel of your palm as you watch Jason make his way over to his older brother.

"Jason." Bruce warns.

Jason bulldozes past his tone with a roll of his eyes, plopping down next to Dick. "Dickie bird, I don't think you're seeing the big picture here," Jason says, the affectations of a used car salesman spilling into his voice. You don't know why or how but it grabs Dick's attention.

"Jay, pretty sure the guy who used to try and murder me weekly is now trying to date my aunt is a pretty big picture," Dick says with a little laugh, finding the situation particularly ridiculous.

Bruce huffs, pleased that Dick can see reason, but you have more faith in Jason.

Jason shakes his head. "Ok, but consider this if you hate it this much, imagine how he feels about it."

A spark flickers across Dick's features. "I'm listening."

"Picture this, you're fighting Deathstroke, he doesn't know you know, then bam you just start calling him Uncle Slade and giving him shitty dating advice."

You and Bruce side-eye each other. That shouldn't have convinced Dick.

But he tilts his head, seeming to genuinely consider this.

"I'm in."

You have to smother your laughter with your hand lest you wake up every ghost in the mansion. Bruce looks like he might have an aneurysm.

Tim leans over the armrest of his chair. "If we annoy him enough, maybe he'll show up to PTA meetings." A slow grin creeps upon his features. The look on Bruce's face sparks an entire detailed discussion on how to convince Slade 'the Terminator' Wilson to attend Damian's PTA meeting.

You had no doubt that Jason could do it.

"If no one is dead I am leaving," you say, getting up.

Bruce scowls, "we are not done talking."

You scowl back. "No. I am leaving and you will NEVER do this again," you make your way towards the door. "If you try, I WILL tell all of them the stupid shit you did in highschool. Yes, including that one."

The kids perk up. (Yes, Dick is still a kid.) Cass's eyes glitter looking like she's going to pounce. Bruce cuts her off though like a stick in the mud. "Are you going to stop seeing him?" Bruce’s eye is twitching.

"No," they shout collectively.

"We need him for thanksgiving," Cass protests.

"Someone has to show Damian the best way to cut a turkey with a sword," Duke says, tone disgustingly sensible.

"He is coming nowhere near this house."

Tim raises his head from his arms, "maybe we could ask him when he’s going to marry (y/n)?"

Jason looks all too happy with the idea. "Excellent, that will maybe explode his remaining few brain cells."

"Ok, I doubt he has any," Dick chuffs, "but we could give him proposal ideas that (Y/n) hates."

"Oh like the stripper cake one," Cass says.

You all stare at her.

"No one does that. At least, I hope not," Dick says.

Tim shakes his head. "There's a company down at East End that does it."

"No shit," Jason breathes, walking over to Tim. "Huh, ok so that's one thing we can suggest."

"We could also..."

Bruce looks like he wants to keel over. Taking the chance, you walk away, feeling a little more drained than what you would have been if you had to help perform surgery.

You honestly hadn't meant for it to get this bad. Well, not it wasn't bad. You're just two consenting adults having fun. That's all it is but leave it to Bruce to blow things out of proportion.

Slade's phone pings again and it rattles against the nightstand in protest. He doesn't bother to check it. He knows who it is. He pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling the beginnings of a headache creep in. It's too early for that brat to be hacking into god knows what system just to find one of his phone numbers.

He turns on his side to ignore it and props his head in his hand. Beside him, you're fast asleep, head buried under a pillow, your allergy to waking up early rearing its head. He glides a hand on your back. Calloused fingers trace over puckered scars, the peaks and valleys shaping your back, and the evidence of your amorous night together in the shape of bite marks and hickeys. Hand settling on the small of your back, Slade presses his thumb on the hickey he'd left there, waiting for the telltale shiver that rakes your body when he touches a sensitive part of it. You make a soft noise under the pillow and try to buck him off. He feels his face melt into something fond as he watches you squirm more under the pillow in an attempt to catch the last cusp of sleep.

Lifting the pillow, Slade sees your face scrunch up. He flings the pillow away. You squint at him and make your annoyed 'hnnnn' audible as you turn away from Slade. Slade waits for a second then your body turns back to face him, scared back by the sun streaming in from the windows. Your hand tries to tug at the pillow under his arm to which he responds to by putting more weight on the pillow. You curse softly, scooting into his chest. Slade rests his hand on your hip, pulling you closer to him.

"Why is Todd texting me about birthday presents?" he asks, feeling your breath on his collar bone.

You squint up at him. Your brain is taking its sweet time chewing up his words. You look so sleep rumpled that Slade doubts you could do basic arithmetic right now.

"Wha?" you slur.

Slade lets his head drop onto the pillow. "He’s asking for a convertible Ferrari."

You blink away the haze and an expression finally surfaces on your face. It's sheepish. Slade might even dare to say shy. "Oh, uhm, expect Dick to call you uncle and maybe Tim," you pause and take a breath, inhaling his morning musk. "And Cas... and Duke... god, Steph's gonna join I just know it," you grouse, burying your face on his chest, letting the peach fuzz tickle your face.

Slade's breath is on the cusp of laughter. The swift kick you give him under the sheets only tilts it further. "They're certainly taking this well."

You sigh and smile up at him, only a little evilly. "Only after they figured out you had to deal with them too."

It's Slade's turn to sigh. The Bat and his gaggle of creatures were irritating enough to deal with on the field now they’re planning to interfere with his personal life.

"B, still hates it," you say, the corners of your eyes wrinkling with glee, "he staged an entire intervention which backfired as you can see."

Slade hums, feeling the corner of his own eye wrinkle with amusement. "Really? They think I’m that bad?"

This draws a laugh out of you, a husky bark of a throat still raw from exertion. It's beautiful. "You should have seen how traumatized Dick looked," you say, cupping your hand over your mouth, joy still spilling between your fingers. "Maybe that’s why I like you."

"Here, I thought you hated me," Slade says, pitching his brow up.

You mirror his expression but you manage to make the smallest of expressions cute. "It's not mutually exclusive," you cluck, drawing circles on his chest.

"They aren't," he agrees and the ease of which makes you very suspicious but because you have been around Alfred long enough to absorb manners, you keep your lips sealed shut. "Have to know though, what do you like about me?" You have never before regretted being polite as fast.

Well done, Slade Wilson. You are officially worse than Damian Wayne.

You make a move to get out of bed but Slade hauls you on top of him easily, the calloused pads of his fingers raking over your back. You boost yourself up on your elbows scowling down at the man looking back at you with his head propped on his ridiculously large arm. "Did I not just say it?"

"No, you didn’t."

"I can show you," you purr, grinning down at him. Your grin broadens when he generously eyes your skin, his tongue darts over his lips, gaze turning hungry.

Slade laughs huskily. "I’m all game for that, kitten..." Good. You are too. "...after you tell me what you like about me besides the free orgasms." The look on his face is the embodiment of smug and you find yourself rearing back.

"I had to work for those."

"Beg you mean," he corrects happily.

"Go to hell."

"Gladly, after you clarify," he says pressing his fingers into spots where he knows will tickle. This results in a gasp followed by a trickle of laughter.

"No! Stop!" Tears prickle your eyes and your stomach aches with laughter. "Please!"

Slade grins, looping an arm around your waist to keep you from escaping his dexterous wrath. Nibbling at the junction of your neck, he presses fingers to your side. You flail and shriek. “This isn’t funny!” You howl, thumping your hand against his chest. “On the contrary, it’s pretty funny.” “Ass.” “Is that what you like about me?” “I take it back, I just hate you,” you whine into his chest.

Slade pets your hair, humming, "thought so."

Slade takes another sip of his coffee, letting the tension in the air hang like Gotham smog. Bruce's manicured expression stays firmly in place. They've had this stalemate going for half an hour and neither of them was planning to cave. Well, Slade doesn't care. This is all on Bruce's dime. Slade knew the moment he got pinged by a client in Gotham that it was Bruce because who else would it be?

Slade leans back, arm hooked on the back of the wing-back chair. He slurps the coffee loudly. Bruce's face twitches. Slade's face does too but his face has that smug grin that makes him look ten times more insufferable.

"Wilson," Bruce says, voice hushed and flat.

"Wayne," Slade says, setting his cup down, "or was it Malone? Which one are you today?" He drums his fingers. There's no particular rhythm and he can see how this whole situation is getting on his nerves, delightful really.

"We need to talk."

"Do we now?" Slade chuckles. "I'm pretty sure that that's not your forte."

"It's not yours either."

Slade's mouth pulls down at the same rate Bruce's twitches up.

Bruce isn't wrong. One Addie Kane can attest to that. Though something about hearing it from someone who seems to have a speech limit that makes Slade's blood boil. Maybe it's the sheer hypocrisy. That does track with Bruce's MO.

Bruce sets his coffee down but his hand is still gripping the mug, poised to throw it at Slade the moment this temporary non-aggression pact is lifted. Slade should grab something to chuck at him too. Self-defense and all that.

"When it comes to y/n, I have to," Bruce sighs, and the stress lines that never show up on in his Bruce Wayne face show.

Slade scoffs, "no, you really don’t."

The tight grip Bruce has on his mug turns his knuckles white. "You expect me to trust you not to hurt her?" he says, voice low, face edging into a glower.

"She's broken 3 of my ribs. I think she's made it crystal clear she'll be fine." Slade says jaw tightening. The bulk beneath his skin coils. He doesn't know why Bruce's words get under his skin. The accusation is fair given Slade's past relationships and it's not like Slade's gonna deny that but still, something about the idea rubs him the wrong way. He can't or doesn't want to place it.

Bruce looks... surprised, brows hiking up to the ceiling, mounting an escape from Bruce's face. The expression looks wrong on him. "Only 3?" He asks carefully.

Slade crosses his arms and angles his head. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"She," he pauses, "she normally goes for a higher count with damages. Not even a cracked skull?" Bruce's stoic features look lost amidst the crisis looming in his brain.

Slade's posture relaxes. "She clearly has a soft spot for me," he says all smug and petty. Now, this, this is more comfortable.

Bruce coils, ready to strike.

Slade smiles, honestly rearing to also lay Bruce out on his ass.

"Slade?"

They both freeze at the familiar voice that floats over the crowd. Mechanically, Bruce turns his head only to see your pinched confusion get blown wide by surprise then flex into concern. Maybe the right word was that you were flummoxed. He watches the muscles in your face work, slotting between expressions you'd prepared for the meeting you had with the man now tapping your shoulder. Bruce winces as you short circuit.

You had a catalog of Bruce's identities and your brain is trying to process why this one is here in this nice, well-lit cafe, at noon of all times. You excuse yourself, slotting on your most pleasant face, telling your new acquaintance that you'll keep in touch. You neglect to tell him it will be your assistant keeping in touch but that's mainly because you're currently trying to puzzle together the picture in front of you. You're pretty sure Matches Malone's natural habitat is shady alleyways and dive bars, not faux french cafes. Your eyes slide to Slade instead and it clicks, so does your tongue.

Slade and Bruce watch as you weave your way towards them, your mind still wading through a mix of irritation and confusion. You're predictably clumsy because of it. Slade can't fault the smile that softens his features as you come heart-stoppingly close to getting coffee splattered onto your crisp white shirt. He knows he's letting too much of the fondness crowding his chest show on his face so he tries to angle it away from Bruce and towards your oblivious ass.

All the color in Bruce's face drains when he catches Slade's expression in the corner of his eye.

You reach the table, miraculously unscathed. You scowl down at Bruce, open your mouth, then shut it before proceeding to ruffle his hair violently. Bruce slaps your hand off but it just makes its way back to his hair. The slap fight continues and eventually, you seat yourself on to the arm of Bruce's chair. The ease of affection between the two of you is palpable. This... irritates Slade.

"What did I tell you?" You say, this time tugging on Bruce's hair with actual force. He winces but again slaps your handoff in an exercise of futility.

"This isn't an intervention."

Your face scrunches up, less glower and more pout. Crossing your arms, you look between the both of them before turning the full force of your ire on Bruce. The annoyance flaring is Slade's chest is smothered by this and he angles his head so Bruce can see the satisfaction on his face.

"Your kids are gonna hear how you almost got Harvey expelled from GA."

The declaration lands and for the second time that day, Bruce's face goes ashen. He opens his mouth to plea but thinks better of it and just resolves to keep you away from his kids for however long your anger lasts.

You continue to sit there and be mad at Bruce when your watch buzzes. Looking up, you groan then curse softly.

"Meeting," you offer briskly, planting a kiss on Bruce's forehead before getting to your feet.

"Lucius?"

You're tilting your head back to let another sour sound out but then settle for "God, I wish."

All seems to be normal until you brush past Slade. Without thinking, you reach down to kiss his nose then proceed to call your chauffeur.

Slade and Bruce stare at each other in stunned silence. That wasn't a calculated move. Both are well-trained enough to know that. As Bruce starts to emulate a man being swallowed up by the ground while Slade's face unfurls in the most unfailingly smug grin in the history of human faces.

[kimberly-spirits13]

Batfam Reacting to S/O Turning into a Robin HC (Request)

So this entire thing happens because you and Bruce were fighting Circe who just had to throw a spell at a civilian

You jump in front of the spell and catch it, taking the blow

This means that on site, you turn into a Robin

Wtf

Bruce is big mad now since now he thinks that you could be a Robin for the rest of your life and that’s just not cool

The moment that the fight is over, he calls in everyone from the league

Z, Constantine, Dr. Fate, Zatara, Wonder Woman, the whole lot

Once they find out what happens there’s a worry but eventually they find that it’s going to be alright and you’ll change back within the next 72 hours or so

72 HOURS

Bruce just simply cannot wait that long

he doesn’t know what to do with a bird like

ALFRED

They make sure to not try and feed you anything that’s too disgusting that you wouldn’t normally eat

No worms

That would be gross

Bruce does find it kind of funny that you turn into a Robin and not something else

So happy it wasn’t a bat

You’d get mixed and lost with the rest of them in the cave and that would be weird

Plus there’s a high chance that you’d just fall from the ceiling

Once you finally detransform from the entire debacle, Bruce is very happy to have you back

Gets special charms from Z and Constantine that repel bad magic back onto the user

Ensures that something like this doesn’t happen again

Dick Grayson:

This man does not know what to do

It’s a run in with Witch Boy that causes this to happen

Z!!!!!!

That’s the first person that he calls

Wally is really the one that takes you back to him since Dick wasn’t on this mission but you and Wally were leading it

You jumped in front of one of the newer recruits and that’s how that happened

Does this entire experience count as a souvenir?

Like maybe he just takes a feather that you drop or something and like SOUVENIR OF THAT ONE TIME THAT Y/N TURNED INTO A ROBIN

After the initial freak out mode, he just thinks that it’s kind of funny that it was a Robin

Z said that the spell was the wrong spell (thankfully) and you’d only turn into something that you loved for a little while

RObin yOU TuRNeD InTO A RoBIn

And that makes Dick a blushing mess

Once you finally do turn back, he teases you

Your most important question is did you eat anything gross

The answer was no but still

Trust issues

he does mention what the spell was and that lead to some blushing

Jason Todd:

This was the last thing that he had planned

The absolute last thing

On a mission that involved some weird magic stuff, you just happened to get turned into a Robin

What the literal hell is happening now

The first instinct is to see that it’s really you

Once you understand that you’re a Robin, you’re just like, oh, so this is happening now

And that’s just how it is, you fly up onto his shoulder and just run with it

Just sitting there like it’s no one’s business cause it isn’t

If anyone asks why there’s a Robin following, it’s just what’s happening now

He is concerned that you don’t turn into a human again

So he does make sure to ask and this time, it needs a counter spell

Z is the one to do this since Jason isn’t keen on trusting Constantine

Doesn’t take super long to do this since Z is already very powerful

We Stan a powerful helpful queen

So Jason goes to one of her shows and sneaks back stage still in the Red Hood uniform and explains what happens

Z just goes ahead, sets you on the floor, and does the transformation

It was really easy, not to painful, but it was weird to just be laying on the floor and not able to fly

You’ll only miss that part

Jason doesn’t miss any of it and still jokes about the fact that you were a Robin

“Babe at least you didn’t blow up in your time being Robin.”

JASON PETER TODD

Tim Drake:

So you turn into a Robin on a mission with the team

He was on this mission and watched the entire thing go down

The funny part was that you could still talk since the magic was somewhat incomplete

There’s just this small voice “WHAT THE HELL!”

And then Tim knows that it’s definitely you

Tim was going to take you to one of the magic users in the league

but since Diana was right there when you got back, you stormed up flew up to her and just mouthed off

“DIANA LOOK AT ME! THAT ASSHOLE CIRCE TURNED ME INTO A ROBIN! THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH ROBIN BUT I DON’T WANT TO BE ROBIN! WATCHA LOOKIN AT BATS! I’M NOT UP FOR ADOPTION!”

Tim just died laughing

Cause it really was funny that you were just a little tiny Robin and mouthing off at the most powerful heroes in the world

Recorded it 100%

When Diana takes you to Themyscira in order to get one of the Amazon’s to help, Tim obviously couldn’t come

So it’s about a three day long trip and during that period, Timmy is a mess

He needs to know what’s happening at all times to ensure that you’re alright

When you do finally get home, he tackles you into a hug and checks you up and down to make sure that there’s nothing still wrong

Very happy when he concludes that there’s nothing wrong anymore and you’re back to the regular Y/N

Damian Wayne:

His first instinct is to not let anyone touch you but him

He takes you everywhere and makes sure that you’re alright

You can’t talk but he’s helped birds before and has dated you for some time so he knows what no to do and what to do

That being said, he does want you back to normal ASAP

That means that he’ll call an emergency league meeting without Bruce’s approval

Although Bruce probably would have done the same thing since he really knows that Damian loves you and would make sure that you’re alright

That’s super important to him and the rest of the family since you are kind of family at this point

Damian insists that the magic users help turn you back very quickly

They call in Constantine since Z is off doing other things and he makes sure that he knows exactly what happens

Constantine has had some bad experiences with magic in the past and he wants to be sure that you’re not going to have anything really bad happen to you

Damian is the same way

Probably threatens John’s life if something goes wrong

Once you’re finally back, Damian also tackles you

Though Constantine has to hold him back at first since the shock of turning back and then having someone tackle you to the ground would be over whelming

But when he finally can, he does

Checks you over just like Tim and then doesn’t let you out of his sight for a week or so

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, just not anyone else

He makes it a point that you’re too important to lose

Cuddles everywhere

Once he does step back and think about it though, he finds it kind of endearing that there are thousands of other things that you could’ve turned into but it was a Robin

It was sweet but didn’t need to last longer than it had to

Duke and Luke:

I’m putting these guys together since in my mind they’re pretty alike

Luke is the classical version of Duke and Duke is the Lofi/ alternative hip hop version of Luke

For these reasons they both have very similar reactions

And that would be to freak out

they take you to Bruce and get advice cause what is going on

They don’t have as much of a connection with the Robin deal since they weren’t ever technically Robin for Batman

Duke is a bit more of an arguable case but still

They do find it both suspicious and a bit comedic that it was a Robin out of anything else though

I have to say that they’re the most chill out of any of the Batfam when it comes to something like this since this kind of thing just happens a lot

Not turning into Robin, just weird outta pocket experiences

Like this is just another thing to add to the list of oh here we go again

Duke does think that you’re still really a pretty Robin

In the most non- weird way possible you’re just a pretty Robin

Luke doesn’t really pay attention to that and instead wants to get to the bottom of what happened so that it doesn’t happen again

They’re both really smart so they’ll figure it out but at different paces since one is more urgent than the other

Doesn’t mean that either care less though

Once you’re back they do make sure that extra diagnostics are run to make sure that nothing was effected and you’ll be okay long and short term

Once they’re satisfied it’ll all go back to being pretty normal

Sry this took so long, exams are running wild

[bonniebird]

Jason Todd x Reader

Requested by @atomicsoph

Masterpost

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December Event

You smiled as you hurried through the Titans building. As you knocked on Rachel and Gar’s room you tried to rummage through your bag.

“Hey!” They said cheerfully.

“You’re the last gifts to give.” You said cheerfully as Rachel opened the door. You handed her the gifts and she smiled.

“I didn’t get you anything.” She confessed.

“Well with everything going on I didn’t expect anyone to get anything. I figured I could cheer people up with all the arguing and the fighting going on.” You said cheerfully.

“Hey! I got you something!” Gar insisted as he pulled the door further open and handed you a small wrapped gift.

“Thanks. Enjoy your evening guys. I think the robins are heading back to Gotham so we’ll be the only ones left here for a while.” You said with a friendly smile.

“I think Connor is staying. He really liked the shirt that you got him and that cute bed for his dog.” Rachel said as you rummaged in your bag to check what you had left and stowed your gift from Gar in it. 

“That’s good. I’ll see you later.” You said as you cheerfully left them. As you went round the corner you found Jason helping himself to a beer in the kitchen. You haven't managed to find the gift you wanted for Jason or Dick in San Francisco but when you’d mentioned it to Alfred he assured you that they would have their gifts waiting for them under the Wayne house’s annual tree.

“What Are you still doing here?” You asked him.

“The plane leaves an hour later than Dick though so I have to wait here until he gets back.” He answered. Then he frowned at you and saw your bag. It was a little red felt bag that was decorated like a Santa jacket. “Listen here, Kringle. I may have gotten naughty this year, but by today's standards, naughty's nothing! I didn't get anybody pregnant, I didn't Facebook a kid to death.”

“Haha Jason. Your gift is already in Gotham.” You said quickly.

“Really!” He sounded surprised as if he’d really thought you’d just missed him and Dick off your list. “How’d you pull that off… Did you tell Alfred?” “I just asked if he could have someone pick something up if I ordered it from Gotham.” You said quickly.

“Did he just go out and get it for you then wrap it?” Jason asked.

“He bought both gifts and had special gift tags with my name printed on them. I still can’t figure out how he got my signature for the tags.” You admitted. Jason laughed as he took a seat on one of the kitchen bar stools.

“One year. Bruce said we didn’t need a tree. Alfred threw the tree out overnight. Well he donated it and all the new decorations. Then he refused to get a new one until Bruce apologised and said he was wrong. Alfred had a new tree with all the old Wayne decorations up in literally five minutes. We were out of the room for just under five minutes. I still don’t know how he did it. Dick said it was probably Barry but he would have shown up on the cameras.” Jason muttered fondly. 

Jason Todd:

@sairamccall11 @theletterhart @big-galaxy-chaos @onyourgoddamnleft @greekktragedyy @ietss @alexxavicry

[inredunderlinedx]

Wherever you stray, I follow: Bruce Wayne x reader

A/n: this fic will use she/her pronouns! As always requests for different pronouns in a new fic are welcome!

I was definitely being followed.

Yet every time I turned around there was no one there. It was incredibly frustrating.

“That’s it.” I muttered, grabbing my phone and dialing my best friend.

“Hello?” He answered

“Bruce, you didn’t hire a PI to follow me did you?”

“What? No.”

“I’m being followed. I cant see who though.”

“You are? Where?”

“I’m by Gordon’s, but there’s definitely someone following me for a couple blocks now.”

“Uh, do you want me to send a car to pick you up? If someone is following you, you shouldn’t go home.”

“I guess yeah…” I said still glancing around, “you’ll stay on the phone with me until the car gets here?”

“Of course.” He replied

• • •

Once I got to the manor, Alfred opened the door with a smile.

“Bruce?”

“Upstairs, he’ll be with you in a moment. Tea?”

“That would be lovely.” I said with a smile.

I waited until bruce came down in sweats.

“Hey, are you alright?” He asked

“I guess, it was just… weird, I don’t know.” I shook my head.

He hummed sitting beside me.

“It was weird, it didn’t make me feel, unsafe just uneasy; I didn’t like not knowing who was watching me.”

Bruce nodded, I glanced at him, raising an eyebrow at his slightly guilty expression.

“You promise you didn’t hire a PI?” I asked inquisitively.

“I promise. No PI.” He said with a light laugh.

I hummed in response.

“I’m going to bed, I’ll see you in the morning,” I said, kissing his cheek, “thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Of course. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

• • •

The next night, I was walking home from work when I felt the eyes again.

I kept walking, I didn’t look back. I waited, I wanted to catch them off guard.

I made a turn off to an alley, and kept walking, not yet looking back, when I reached another turn I paused, riffling through my purse.

I took the small mirror and tried to discretely search behind me. I paused on a shadowy figure on the room behind me to the right.

I held it still trying to make out who it was.

Batman???

What was Batman of all people doing following me?

I slipped me mirror back into the bag and continued walking, with the knowledge spinning through my head.

I knew there was no reason not to go home now, and I finally got back to my apartment.

I had to figure this out.

There were two main possibilities:

I was a suspect which made no sense

Batman had a connection to me

I was definitely not a criminal, and even if I was i wouldn’t be good enough to interest Batman.

The only other possibility was Batman had a connection to me. It was no secret that my walk home from work wasn’t through the best neighborhoods, or the best time of day.

The only logical solution, was Batman was making sure I was safe— which was nice, except I had no idea why me.

What made me important enough to protect. I wasn’t very close with anyone other than Bruce Alfred and Clark.

I had just started this new job, so I couldn’t be someone from there. I had very little close relationships, other than Bruce and Alfred.

Which Is why I couldn’t figure out who, and why me? I wasn’t special.

I mean sure, I was friends with an Uber rich guy, but—

That had to be it. Bruce. He had connections, he must know Batman. That’s why he looked so guilty.

I sat up, and grabbed my keys. I was going to yell at Bruce. What an idiot. He could have told me instead of giving me a heart attack.

• • •

“Miss L/n, we’re we expecting you?” Alfred said.

“No, i apologize for coming over unannounced, but I need to speak with the idiot of the house.”

“Ah,” he said, almost like he was expecting it, “he’s just getting cleaned up.”

“Alright.” I said following him inside.

I saw Bruce in the kitchen, without a shirt on with a giant gash across his chest.

“Bruce! What the fuck!?” I said rushing over to him, “what did you do?”

“Alfred!” Bruce said, like he had been tattled on.

Oh my god. I had never realized how many muscles he had. Or how many scars.

Oh shit.

“You’re Batman, aren’t you?” I said astonished.

“Shit.” Bruce said, knowing there wasn’t anything he could do to convince me otherwise.

“You absolute dumb-ass!” I said throwing my hands up, “you cannot actually think this is a good idea!”

“Y/n, look,”

“No! You are so dumb. How stupid could you be?” I said, “this is in no way, a healthy coping mechanism!”

“Yeah, well someone has to do it.” He said

“Why you? You shouldn’t suffer! You shouldn’t die for some stupid city! You shouldn’t die cause I love you and you can’t leave me alone!”

There was no hiding the guilt on Bruce’s face. He stood up, despite my protests, and hugged me tightly.

“I love you too.” He whispered.

“Please don’t die.” I said softly

“I’ll do my best.” He said, with a chuckle.

[ms-starflower]

Spook-tober Day 1 — Decorating

@maribat-october-rarepairs

So, technically, it’s October 2nd for almost two hour here, but it’s probably still the 1rst somewhere, right? Well, I don’t care anyway.

It’s my first time writing for an event (Maribat or otherwise) and I wanted to write both prompts for Spook-tober - Maribat Month and the Maribat Rare Pairs Month, but didn’t have time to start writing before 11pm.

This one's for Spook-tober, though it could also qualify as rarepair since it's a Stephinette (is that the correct shop name???), because Steph is my Queen (Cass too, but I wanted Steph today). Though they don't interact (yet) but I think I’ll write a follow up for other days' prompt, maybe (day 9 and 21, I’m looking at you,).

Anyway, let’s start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You sure you got the right address, miss?” The cab driver asked her with a skeptic expression. It would have been alright if the man hadn’t asked the same thing in at least twenty different ways during the ride.

“Yes, thank you Monsieur. I’m exactly where I wanted to be,” Marinette answered with a tight smile, like the twenty previous times. Giving him the money she owed him, she got out of the car to stand in front of the gigantic gate of Wayne’s Manor. The place was kind of intimidating.

Still hearing the car behind her when she reached the intercom, she turned toward it. The driver was shamelessly looking at her, probably waiting for her to get refused access.

“Are you waiting for something, sir?” She asked, tilting her head slightly.

“You’re gonna need a ride back, don’t ya? I’m already here, might as well,” he smiled at her with condescending amusement. Marinette was tempted to tell him that she would prefer to go back to the city on foot than to get into his car again. But her parents raised her better than that, so she only smiled politely.

“There is no need, sir, I really don’t know how long I’m going to stay here.”

“Yeah, right,” the man huffed, still staring at her.

Deciding to just ignore him, Marinette turned to push on the intercom’s only button. It took a minute before an elegant and accented voice responded.

“Hello, how may I help you?”

“Ah, hello sir. I’m Marinette, Jason asked me to come?”

“Indeed, Master Jason warned me to expect you.”

When the gate opened, Marinette made a point to turn around to smile and wave goodbye at the cab driver. She would cherish his dumbstruck expression for a long time.

Her victory was short lived, though, when she saw how long the march from the gate to the house was going to be. Jason better be on the brink of death. Or the world, she wasn’t picky.

When she finally got there, an old gentleman she thought might be Alfred was waiting for her.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, I’m Alfred, the family’s butler, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Alfred said with a kind smile and a nod.

“The pleasure is all mine, sir. And just Marinette is fine,” she told him kindly, walking into the house. “Jason is okay, right? He didn’t say why he wanted me here, and I have to admit that he got me worried.”

Jason had been determined to keep her as far away from his family as he could manage before, and the sudden change was really odd.

“I see,” Alfred said slowly, closing his eyes for a second. “Master Jason is alright, Miss Marinette, do not worry. He just… Well, why not let Master Jason explain the situation to you himself. If you would follow me.”

Marinette followed him for a couple minutes through a couple of corridors, before he opened the doors to… a battlefield.

She thought that, maybe, it was supposed to be a living room, but it was hard to say, under all those decorations. They were literally everywhere. Throwing on the couches, a couple of boxes were overturned in a corner, a couple of garlands of little cartoon ghosts hanging hazradly from the chandelier. It was a mess, but she could see that someone probably tried to… decorate? Maybe? It was a really bad job, though.

Jason and a man she assumed to be his brother were battling with a plastic pumpkin and a skeleton respectively, while two more men and a woman—probably also Jason’s siblings, she heard Bruce Wayne was kind of a serial adopter— were cheering on the sidelines and a brooding teenager was glaring at them. Everyone froze as soon as they realized that they weren’t alone anymore. Alfred only sighed, nodded at her before going back to where they came from.

“Hey! Pixie! Great, you’re here,” Jason exclaimed excitedly, letting go of the pumpkin he was shoving into his brother’s face and stauttered toward her.

“Jason, in the name of everything that’s holy, what the hell?” Marinette asked with a voice deceptively calm. She could see the woman and one of the men behind Jason wince at her tone. Good.

“Well, see, we wanna decorate the house for Halloween, now that it’s time—”

“Jason,” she interrupted incredulously. “We are in September!”

“Well, technically, it’s already October in Russia,” the man that had been fighting with Jason piped up.

“Yeah, what Timbers said,” Jason said with a serious nod while Marinette could only look at him in astonishment. “Anyway, Bruce said we can decorate all the room in the Manor like we wish if we can make this one presentable, without the help of Alfred. And I really want to make a cat theme for his bedroom, so I thought; hey, you know a designer…”

“I’m a fashion designer, Jason, not an interior designer!”

“Same difference, Pixie. You’re my only hope, all of them are hopeless in terms of good taste.”

Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose, ignoring the various protests from Jason’s sibling, before taking out her phone.

“So you proceeded to send me ‘Hey Pix,” she said, reading the message he sent her earlier with a bad imitation of his voice. “‘Need you at the manor asap, urgence lvl 3’ before ignoring me, making me think that the world was probably ending—”

“World ending is at least a lvl 5, Pix, come on,” Jason interrupted with an offended expression. She ignored him.

“—Forcing me to take a cab with a absolute jerk driver—”

“Why did you take a cab? You have a car!”

“Adrien took the car, he is visiting Chloé in New York. But that’s not the point. The point, Jason, is that all of that was because you needed me to help you decorate for a day that is literally in a month?”

“Hey, Halloween is a very important celebration,” Jason’s brother, the one that had been cheering the loudest, told her with a solemn expression.

“I’m French, I don’t care about Halloween,” she deadpanned.

“I’m sorry, what?” The one Jason had called Timbers, probably Tim Drake, looked pained at the very idea that someone could not be obsessed by Halloween.

“I mean, we used to make speciales and sales at the bakery, and I’ve been to a couple of costume parties, but we don’t really pay attention to Halloween until around the 25 of October.”

“That’s sacrilegious,” Jason said, and almost all the others agreed in a way or another.

“Maybe for you, Americans,” she told him with amusement. “But it doesn't change the fact that I’m not going to help you.”

What? Why?!” He exclaimed, his eyes widening.

“Because, one, I don’t have anything to gain from it,” she said, showing him one of her fingers before adding a second. “And two, do you know how long the walk between the cab and the door had been? And all of it just for decorations?”

“Aw, come on, Pix! Bruce is going to make Alfred judge, and I have projects for the cat theme!”

“There is nothing you can say that is going to make me change my—”

“Hey guys!” A cheerful voice suddenly interrupted her, the owner barging into the room like a whirlwind. The woman was slightly taller than her, with long blonde hair and blue eyes. She had a beautiful smile that brightened the room and Marinette could feel the hearts that were making their way in her eyes. The girl was cute. Uh oh. “You are decorating already?! Cool! Be right back, let me just grab my stuff!”

Then she was gone, and Marinette could only blink slowly, before turning back toward Jason.

“Alright, I’m in.”

“What? Why— Oh, no, no, no! You’re not going to crush on Steph—”

“Oh, her name is Steph? What a lovely name,” she mumbled, looking back in the direction she disappeared. “But if you don’t want my help, I can just ask for her number and let you fend for yourself with the decorations, you know.”

“Pixie!” Jason complained, making his sibling laugh or snicker at him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Fun fact: when Marinette says that France doesn't care about Halloween until around October 25th, I’m talking from personal experience. I don’t know if it’s the same in all of France, but I grew up in Paris’ region (It’s not Paris Paris, but it’s like, the places all around and we call it régions parisienne) and they don’t care about it. Where I live, the shops don’t start selling Halloween themed candy before, like a week (maybe two?? when they start early) before Halloween and the children rarely go trick or treating. (I lived in this house for ~five/six years, and I’ve never got a child knocking for candy on Halloween.)

Again, I’m not saying it was like that for everyone in France, maybe it was only my city, but I thought it funny to have this opposition between Marinette and the Batkids.

[kingexpl0sionmurder]

Date The Hell Out Of You - Kaminari Denki

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder​ Pairing: Kaminari Denki/F!Reader Rating: 16+ (Fluff) Words:  1,575 Warnings: I have opinions about comic books so don’t come at me. I think it’s a very mild argument anyway so it shouldn’t be a big deal, but if you feel offended pls know it wasn’t my intention to bash on Batman lol. AN: Hellooo here is my contribution to this months bnharem collab! The theme is Co-Workers and I just wanted Denki and a bookstore so you get this short and fluffy little thing. You’re welcome! Please check the masterlist below for everyone else’s works and heed each pieces warnings before you dive in!

Collab Masterlist My Masterlist My Ko-Fi

---

“You cannot sit there and tell me that you think Batman is better than Iron Man. I refuse to believe it.” You huffed, crossing your arms across your chest and glaring daggers at his best friend.

This had become like a routine to Kaminari, ever since he’d started working at the bookstore, which had been almost a year ago.

He took his lunch break at the same time most days, anxiously hoping you had a break at the same time as well. It wasn’t because he thought you were cute (he totally did, honestly), he just enjoyed your company. You had some loud and unique opinions on a lot of things, and he was thoroughly entertained when you went off like this. 

“Well they’re both billionaires with no special powers, just a lot of cool gadgets, right?” Sero pointed out, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded behind his head, his bento sitting forgotten on the table.

“You’re right. But Tony Stark has a sense of humor. Batman is such a stick in the mud.” You made a face from your spot across from them, your chopsticks resting over your cup noodles, the utensil keeping the lid closed so they would cook. 

“Yeah, but in terms of physical strength, Bruce Wayne has got Tony beat.” Sero sat forward, picking up his chopsticks again. “Tony relies on his tech. In a hand to hand fight, Batman wins every time.”

“Tony is smarter, though.” You sighed. “Look, do I need to direct you to read the Civil War series? It’s only like 7 issues. I can lend them to you.”

“It’s got Spider-Man in it.” Kaminari supplied helpfully. “He’s your favorite.”

Sero chuckled. “Yeah, okay. Maybe it’ll change my mind.”

“Trust me. Batman is lame, he’s got some interesting villains though.” You finally moved to eat your ramen. “What about you, Kaminari? Any opinions?”

Shrugging, he finished off the last bit of rice in his bento. “I don’t know, I’m not huge into comic books. I like Deadpool, though.”

“That’s so on brand.” Sero chuckled. “He’s a ridiculous dumbass, just like you.”

“Hey!”

“Listen, Deadpool is probably one of the funniest antiheroes. He breaks the fourth wall so often, it’s my favorite thing.” You grinned at him. “I think it’s a perfect choice.”

Kaminari could feel the blush creeping up his neck at your words. You thought he was funny. “Thanks, Y/N.”

Clearing his throat, Sero stood up. “My break’s over. Can you check on the YA section when you’re back on, Kami? Some kids were in here earlier and I think they moved all the Twilight books around.” His teasing grin told him that Sero had not missed the way he’d reacted to what you’d said to him. 

“Sure thing, boss.” He gave him a salute. “I’ve got like 10 minutes left.”

Sero packed up his bento and shoved it back in the breakroom fridge and left, leaving Kaminari alone with you. 

Kaminari opened his mouth, spitting out the first thing that came to his mind. “But here’s the real question.” He pointed at you with his chopsticks. “Team Edward or Team Jacob?”

--

Kaminari was crouching down, putting the last copies of ‘Breaking Dawn’ back on the shelf when someone walked up to him.  

“If she’s Team Edward you’re going to have to call up Aoyama and ask him to hook you up with some body glitter.” 

He glanced towards his right, smiling at the scuffed black boots belonging to his other best friend, Shinsou.

Kaminari stood, staring at the cat sticker stuck to the side of the reusable coffee cup that his perpetually tired friend always had with him. His gaze then flicked to his face, his customary grin back on his lips. “You think he can help?”

Rolling his eyes, the purple haired man shifted on his feet. “Of course. He works for some makeup place, I bet they have loads of glittery shit.” 

Humming, Denki let his gaze move back to the shelf, making sure everything looked okay. He threw his arm around Shinsou and began walking back to his own section (he was in charge of The Classics, okay?) leaning into the taller man. “I’ll pick you up some black eyeliner while I’m at it.”

“Please do, I’m almost out.” He snarked, before his smirk fell and he sighed. “Look, you need to do something about this crush you have on Y/N.”

“I do not have to do a thing, my friend. I am happily content sitting over here and pining away quietly.” Kaminari threw his arm out dramatically. “Leave me be.”

“Quietly?” Shinsou snorted. “Look, man, I just mean, I’ve been seeing Monoma hanging around her a lot, I just don’t want you to miss your chance.”

Kaminari stopped walking. “Monoma? But he works in the reference section, where they sell those ‘for dummies’ books!”

“Maybe he read ‘Flirting for Dummies’ and now he has a clue. You should look into it yourself.” Shinsou’s raised eyebrow caused Kaminari’s frown to deepen. 

“I know how to flirt, Shinsou.” Huffing, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t you need to go back to Science Fiction and get some work done?”

Sipping his coffee, he fixed Kaminari with a look. “Since I am such a wonderful friend, you’re going to swap me on Saturday and work my section, which is conveniently right next to Manga and Comics, where Y/N will be. You are going to make a move or so help me, I am going to beat you over the head with a copy of ‘Wuthering Heights’.”

“Why that one? Why not something longer, like ‘Don Quixote’?”

“Do you want it to hurt?” Shinsou asked, looking entirely done with his shit. “You’re ridiculous. Just do something, otherwise Monoma might get a date before you do.”

Kaminari cursed under his breath. The thought of you laughing and smiling at Monoma’s terrible jokes rubbed him the wrong way. “Fine. I’ll think of something.”

Seemingly satisfied, Shinsou patted him on the shoulder. “I believe in you.”

—

“How come you and Sero always have these fancy looking bentos for lunch?” You asked, sliding into the seat across from him.

Kaminari paused with his rice halfway to his mouth and looked up. “Our roommate. He’s like a mother hen, he always packs us lunch.”  

Looking impressed, you raised an eyebrow. “He sounds like a keeper.”

Chuckling, Kaminari sat back in his chair. “Yeah, he’s a handful, but under his extremely aggressive exterior he’s a good guy.” He gestured to your ramen. “Maybe I can get him to make you one. All I have to do is tell him you eat cup noodles for lunch every day and he’ll have a heart attack.”

“I like my ramen, okay? It makes me feel like Naruto.” You raised your arms and grinned. “Believe it!”

Rolling his eyes fondly, he turned back to his lunch, poking at his tamagoyaki. He’d been working in the section beside you all day, listening to you gush over the newest shipment of manga you’d received, shoving books at him and making recommendations. He’d been trying to work up the courage all day to get off his ass and ask you out, and he was failing spectacularly.

“You know, if you want to be like Naruto, you should be eating tonkatsu miso with the little narutomaki in it.”

You blinked at him, looking surprised. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

This was it. His chance. “We should go get the real thing sometime.” He swallowed thickly, his palms sweating. “Like, maybe tomorrow night?” He closed his eyes, waiting for you to respond.

“Kaminari, are you asking me on a date?”

The fondness in your tone had him opening his eyes to see your expression. You were blushing, biting on your bottom lip as you stared at him.

“I mean, yeah. A date. If you want to, I mean.”

He was seconds away from backpedaling, his heart climbing up his throat and on the verge of escaping his body. The anticipation was killing him. 

His nervousness and fear of rejection was all for naught. Your face lit up, a genuine smile gracing your lips. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“I would love that.”

A breath he didn’t realize he was holding escaped his lips. “Yeah, okay. Awesome.”

You giggled, leaning your elbow on the table, resting your cheek against your palm. “Did you think I’d say no?”

Feeling a little ridiculous, he blushed and nodded. “I was worried you might. I’m an idiot and you’re...you.”

You scoffed, kicking him under the table lightly. “You’re not an idiot, Kaminari. To be honest, I thought you’d never ask. I guess Shinsou wasn’t lying.”

“About what?” He sat up straight, frowning. “I’m going to kick his ass. What did he say?”

Snorting, you shook your head. “He might have mentioned that you liked me. I wasn’t sure though.”

“Are you kidding? Was I not being obvious enough?”

“You flirt with everyone, I didn’t think I was special.” You teased. “I’m glad he was right, though.” You turned back to your noodles.

“You are though. At least you are to me.” Grinning, he nudged your foot with his. “I’m going to date the hell out of you, Y/N. Just wait and see.”

His heart swooped in his chest when you looked back at him across the table. “I’m looking forward to it.”

[ellana-ravenwood]

Can the Batman get flustered ? - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : Batman has a reputation of always being impassive. Of being very in control of his emotions. But of course, you being his wife, you know his secrets and weak spots... And apparently, sending him dirty texts while you guys are in public definitely works very well to fluster him /Drabble-Minific.

You know that Tik Tok trend where people send a dirty text to their s/o while they’re in public ? I don’t know why I find it so funny and all, but today during my lunch break I was scrolling through the app and fell on a few of those and...boom. This story was born haha. Written in half an hour while I was eating pasta, I hope you’ll like it nonetheless :

TW : SLIGHTLY Nsfw. I mean. The subject itself is “dirty texts” so ya know haha. No actual texts will be shown, but insinuation will. 

My master list : @ella-ravenwood-archives​

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Not amused. 

One. Two. Three. Fo-

Here it goes. 

He hears the little “beep” of his phone, notifying him that he just received a text.

Not any text though. 

A text from a family member. It was a very specific “beep”, for when one of his kids, you, or Alfred were sending him a text. 

You’re a little disappointed he changed the alert sound back to that boring “beep” it has always been.

You rather liked, when Jason pranked him and instead put a recording of himself saying “dingityding motherfucker, ya got a message from one of us”. 

It wasn’t very tasteful for sure, and yeah, you probably shouldn’t’ve found it so funny...But solely for the face your husband and the people he was talking to made, it was all worth it. 

So what if you were nodding along to Bruce’s sermon as he was scolding your son, while simultaneously, when your husband wasn’t looking, giving two thumbs up to Jason ? 

Anyway. Here was the family “beep”. And here it goes.

A smile to the people he was talking to meaning : “Apologies, I have to take this.” as he takes his phone out of his pocket. 

Not that it surprised anyone. He was Bruce Wayne, a busy billionaire who owned multiple enterprises and who was constantly on the move to something new. His phone ringing wasn’t exactly something special. 

Him answering during a conversation wasn’t either. 

Not only did he have the reputation of being a rather busy bee, but he was also  known as quite a protective father. His children were not present at the gala that night, meaning any calls or texts could be an emergency from them. 

Of course, nobody even suspected himbo Bruce Wayne to be the scary Batman, so no one could quite understand how worried Bruce could get about his kids. Yet Bruce Wayne has been a family man long enough by then for everyone to know he was a “doting father”. 

The fact he always protected them from too much media coverage, or how angry he would get when someone would be a little too chummy with them purely by interest...

You always found it sweet. 

That he cared so much about his family that even those not knowing him at all, even those only seeing his “Brucie Wayne” persona (minus the Playboy side he gave up long ago when deciding to make it official with you) noticed.

Of course, you knew he wasn’t always the perfect father. Or husband. But the fact he always tried so hard, and no matter what, always cared so much (maybe even too much ?) made everything worth it. 

Ah, but today wasn’t about how sometimes, it was a little difficult to be Batman’s wife. 

Today, it was about how fun it could actually be. 

Like right now, as he excused himself and took his phone out to see what the text he just received said. 

He was reading it now. And suddenly...

His eyes widened, his face turned a light shade of red, he hurriedly hid his phone’s screen, and cough a little to hide how hot he suddenly felt. 

“Are you alright, Bruce ?” 

One of the man he was talking to asked, and with an awkward smile (very unlike him), he answered : 

“Yes, yes everything is ok. Haha. The um, the children.” 

The man nods, and says something like : “Aaah children, never cease to worry us right ?” and Bruce chuckles. Of this utterly fake chuckle only you knew was fake. 

His real laugh sounded nothing like that. 

A few more seconds pass, before Bruce excuses himself, saying he has to go check something, and...Finally. 

Finally, his eyes are searching for you. 

Finding you easily amongst everyone else. 

His slight frown, his rosy cheeks who would stay this color for a little while still, and the way he walked towards you with incredible resolve...How adorable. 

“I bet you find this funny, mm ?” 

“No idea what you’re talking about, dear.” 

Your small smile is infuriating. And oh, oh how Bruce wished he didn’t love it as much as he did. Oh how he wished he could actually be mad at you for sending him such a thing, in such a public place.

“You need to stop doing that.” 

“Doing what, exactly ?” 

“Sending me -he lowers his voice and continues- sending me those, things.” 

“Things ?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” 

You smile at him, coyly. But he can see the mischievous spark in your eyes. And he scoffs, frustrated that you always seem to easily get to him. 

Nobody does that. Only you. 

Sure, his kids will sometimes get under his skin just for the sake of it. Or could have rather hurtful words if they weren’t feeling well. But he was always able to control his emotions in those cases. 

The Batman was always so impassive. He always looked so in control of his emotions. And Bruce worked for years and years to achieve this. To be able to hide it all deep within him, to pretend he’s not feeling anything, and stay neutral. 

But you...You always burned through his very being. Wether it was because you smiled at him, or send him a rather dirty text in the middle of a crowded charity ball, as he was talking to some of the most powerful people in Gotham. 

Oh. Oh this was a treat. A flustered Bruce. It wasn’t often, you could get him like that. And it was such a treat. 

He can see you’re enjoying this. And passed the initial shock of you telling him such dirty things in your texts, he can see how funny and rather sexy this entire thing could be. 

If only, if only he could control his emotions when around you. 

But he can’t. He can’t because he loves you too much. And because you know exactly how to play him (to be fair, he also knew exactly how to play you, and could drive YOU crazy if he wanted to, too...each had a turn, you guess). 

He bites the inside of his lips, as he usually does when he’s slightly amused, yet a bit annoyed. Yes. That was a mood that was fairly frequent with Bruce. Especially when it came to you. 

You always knew exactly which buttons to push to rile him up, to fluster him, to exasperate him to no end, too. 

And when he bit the inside of his lips, it was when he felt a mix of amusement, and annoyance. 

To be honest, that was exactly what you were looking for to get out of him. 

And sending him a dirty text in public always worked. You loved, the flustered way he reacted. The flushed cheeks, the blabbering and how it took him a little bit to regain countenance while usually it’d only take him a few seconds to hide his feelings. 

You smile at him again, happy you still have any effect on him and...

Ah. And there it was. Passed the initial shock of receiving such a text, and the slight annoyance at you trying to fluster him...the smile. A genuine and soft smile. One only always directed at you. One that showed you, and everyone around, just how much Bruce Wayne loved you. 

He throws an arm around your waist, and says : 

“So. Should we get out of here ?” 

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

Another smile. Genuine. Making everything worth it. 

The hardships, but also this sort of simple moments. 

When Bruce Wayne could act like a “normal” man, and get flustered as his wife send him sexy texts while they were in public, and very crowded places. 

Bruce smiles at you. Genuinely. Yes. You could always get to him. And, frankly, even if he loved to complain about it...He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

And now ? Now he was definitely ready to go try out what you suggested in that god forsaken text. 

Why do you chose such moment do to this ?! 

One. Two. Three. Fo-

Like clockwork.

He was in an important business meeting, but everyone here recognized that special “beep”, the one Jason oh so loved to change up to ridiculous things. 

It was even worst lately, as he started a “game” with his siblings : “Whoever can get their hands on dad’s phone and replace all his notification sounds with something stupid, wins”. Needless to say, your children’s competitive side was driving your husband crazy. 

It was rather funny, to watch him, each mornings as he was getting ready to leave for work, getting slightly unnerved as he made sure his alarms hadn’t been changed (your children could be sooooo sneaky).  

Tim won, when he slyly and sneakily replaced the “beep” with...that same “beep” a few times, as to not make his father suspicious, only for, after the third “beep”, the phone screaming the main theme from the “Barbie : Thumbelina” movie. Damn.

Your kids were geniuses. 

It was hilarious, to see your husband’s face suddenly turning pale. 

Ah but your children, all genius that they were, were still amateurs. 

They couldn’t get him to feel as mortified as you could, when you pulled this particular little trick on him...

Annoying him ? Making him feel embarrassed for a few seconds ? Exasperating him to no end ? That, they were always good at. But he would always regain his countenance fast. 

But what you did ? Haha. Aaah it would stay on his mind for long after the event, and would most definitely...Fluster him. 

Flustered. 

Not a state the great Bruce Wayne was in often. 

And most of the time, you were the source of the “flustering”. 

Like right now, as he was in an important meeting, and heard his phone “beep”. 

The “family beep”. 

Unfortunately for him, it was one of “those texts”. That you just send because well, maybe you were a little evil ? Maybe you liked, to fluster him when he was in public ? To show people he was actually human ? 

He looked at his phone, straightened up in his chair and...Of course, he guessed that you must be around. 

And there you were indeed. Right outside the room.

He quickly glanced at you through the glass walls of the conference room. 

You saw him readjust his pants, and you knew you definitely got to him today. But his reaction wasn’t that grand. Maybe he had um...A little “pants being too tight” problem, but it was clear he could easily hide it. And he got hold of his face rather fast. 

Still, it was very entertaining, how clearly bothered he was. How unable to focus on the meeting he was. Only you though, who knew him better than anyone else, would notice the shift in his behavior. 

It wasn’t enough, though. And he wasn’t looking at you anymore. That wouldn’t do. 

You decided to give him the coup de grace and slipped to the restroom to um...Take a nice picture of yourself, let’s say that. 

You went back to wait outside the conference room, where you’d have a GREAT view of him. And of his reaction. That was certainly going to be...Something. 

“Beep”. The family “beep”. 

It’s uncanny, how Bruce never suspects you’re going to trick him TWICE in a row. He should though. You often do it. 

Ah but his fatherly instincts always get the best of him, and when he hears that specific “beep”, he can’t stop but look. In case anyone needs him. 

He should really find a “beep” just for you, shouldn’t he ? Then again, even then, even with the knowledge that you LOVE to send him dirty text while he’s in public, he’d still jump on the notification. Just in case something happened, you know ? 

Nothing happened today. Well. Except for your little restroom trip. 

He barely takes a look at the photo you send him, that his eyes widen, he spits the drink he was taking all over the papers in front of him, and he slams his phone screen first on the table (shattering it in the process).

“Um...are you okay, mister Wayne ?” 

His associates and employees are concerned. For good reasons. And Bruce hastily tries to dry his paperwork, and apologize saying it’s nothing, that they’re all doing a great job and to continue, please. 

They do. Writing this incident off as yet another one of their boss’ eccentricities (as far as they were concerned, there were lots of them). 

And you are LIVING. It’s always nice, you can get such reaction out of him. 

He looks at you again. And as the meeting went on, for ten more excruciating minutes, he kept looking at you, although he tried really hard to focus on what was being said. 

Oh well. He’d ask Lucious for a recap. 

His eyes also kept going to his shattered phone, playing that photo over and over in his head...Finally, the meeting was over, and he rushed out. 

No one was surprised, they all saw you waiting patiently (haha) outside. They all liked “Mrs. Wayne”, you were nice, and always lifted their boss’ spirit. 

And they knew that when you were around, it was usually to pick him up. So yes. It wasn’t a surprised when he hastily said goodbye, and went to you. 

“You need to stop doing that !” 

You don’t even bother answering, smiling at him in a mischievous almost evil way. And you kiss him on the lips. A simple, very chaste peck. That light his heart on fire. 

It’s crazy, the effect you have on him. No matter how much he tries to keep himself in check. Of course, he has the same effect on you. And to be honest, he flusters you much more than you fluster him. 

After all, rare are the perfect occasions to send him dirty texts in moments that will fluster him. If you did it in any other time, he’d just smile and immediately go to you. Or answer with an equally heated text (when he was away, sexting was totally a thing). 

More often than not, he was the one in control. Oh but when you could get to him...When you could get to him, you REALLY got to him. And if anyone else would notice how truly flustered he got, they wouldn’t recognize him. 

But you knew him. You knew how sweet and soft he could be. How many people had the wrong ideas of him. And how adorable it was, when you got him all hot and bothered in that way. 

How, no matter how much he tried, you always got to him, during those moments. And how much it meant. 

How much it meant. 

It meant that you were his only one. That nobody understood him more than you. And that honestly, no matter how annoyed, flustered and such he would get...he was just always feeling a little happy nonetheless. 

Yes. 

It meant a lot, that you knew him that well. And that only you, with a few well placed words, could fluster him so. 

In the Watchtower.

This was rather dangerous. 

Which added even more spices to everything. 

Not that usually, it wasn’t “dangerous”. So far, you did it to him while he was in a meeting, at a gala, not far from many paparazzis...

There had always been a sort of danger, to you sending this kind of texts to him while in public. 

But today...Ah today there was even more. 

Because today, you guys were in the Justice League’s watchtower. 

And there were MANY people, in that place, that could easily take a peak at what Bruce had on his phone. And that would NEVER leave it down that the Batman was receiving such filth from his wife. 

That’s why you did it. And also because that very same morning, Bruce had been a little too grumpy and unpleasant, and you wanted to take a little revenge on him. 

It was rare, really, that he would be a jerk to you or his kids nowadays. But sometimes. Just sometimes...Well. He wasn’t a perfect being. He had many flaws. And he could be a bit of a dick, at times. Even to you and your children. 

Hence, the well deserved little revenge you were about to get (not that you really needed a reason to want him flustered...but here, with all your superhero friends, it was a particular treat). 

One. Two. Three. Fo-

“Beep”. The specific family one. 

Batman was sitting at the tip of the meeting table. You were sitting a few seat from him, a wide evil grin already plastered on your face. And all your best friends were around the table, discussing plans to secure Earth a little more from intergalactic attack. 

“Excuse me for a minute.” 

Your husband says. And no one is surprised. They all recognize the “family beep”. And despite the reputation he dragged for years, they also all know what his family means to him... 

Clark is right there, slowly leaning towards Bruce, and you know he’s about to ask if the kiddos are alright. Turns out, Clark Kent is an amazing uncle. And friend. He worries a lot about “y’all”, very often. 

And oh, oh this was going to be fun. 

At the very moment Bruce’s eyes see your name on his phone, and what is the content of your text, his eyes widen, turn to Clark and...

“What the hell Bruce ?” 

Your husband, by pure instinct, shoved Clark’s face away, while at the same time hiding his phone in his pocket again.

Clark could’ve avoided it easily, you knew. But he probably wasn’t really expecting the Batman to get weirdly panicky and shove him away like that ? 

“You were-...Too close.” 

Bruce says a bit abruptly, trying really hard to hide how worked up he feels after he read what you send him. He avoids your look like the plague, and pretends as if this little incident didn’t happen, returning to discussing plans. 

The incident passed fast, and although Clark was a bit sour about it, he didn’t ask further. He guessed yes, he was a little too close ? He just wanted to be sure whoever send the text was alright. 

And oh. Oh that whoever was definitely alright. 

Because it was you. And this entire scene unfolded to your utter delight. Bruce abruptness and such was very much like him to all his friends. But you...You saw beyond that. 

You saw how rosy his cheeks got under his mask. And how his eyes kept wandering to you, even as he was working on something very important. 

You saw how truly flustered he got. So flustered in fact, that he couldn’t think of a clever way out of why he shoved his friends away, but that he was “too close”. 

A little unlike Bruce. 

Or was it really ? Was it truly unlike him, or just unlike the idea so many people had of him ? Because you...

You knew the real Bruce. And sometimes, he could be clumsy and shy and stumble on his words. He could be awkward and cute, all flustered and blushy. 

He could be...He was so many things. 

And so many sides of him were absolute secrets. Secrets only you and your children knew. 

You were privy to the most secret parts of him. 

The adorable ones that would get flustered by a dirty text send in public. 

But also the very sexy one that would later act upon it...

He could act annoyed, embarrassed and like he was mad at you all he wanted. You knew he secretly LOVED it, when you took this kind of risk. 

And oh. Oh how you knew. 

Really ?! In front OF MY SALAD ?!

It was a “family and friends” barbecue. One of those occurrences that happen very rarely, when your entire circle of close friends and family is free. 

One of those very rare occurrences where you could all meet up, and have a relaxing time. Today, a barbecue. 

The summer heat was heavy, and you couldn’t help but smile as you looked at your kids and Clark’s son, Jon, playing in the pool. 

Jason and Jon were having a fight against Tim and Damian, and you weren’t sure it was a very fair one...Up until Tim kicked his brother in the nuts, and Jason fell in the water, cursing him. 

You probably should’ve told them to “play nice”, but then Jason emerged from the water and grabbed both his little brothers and...It was clearly all in good fun. Jon was bursting in laughter, cheering along with Duke and Cass for whoever they were siding with to win. 

Ah. Ah you lived for days like this. When you could all pretend to be normal. Then again, you would change your lifestyle for no others. 

The vigilante thing, making Gotham (and by extension the World) a better place...this was what you chose. What you all chose. 

You turned away from your children playing in the pool, screaming (you were pretty sure they could be heard all the way in Downtown Gotham) and having fun, to look for your husband. 

And there he was. Flipping some burgers on the barbecue. Looking hella fine in his polo shirt and cargo shorts. Then again, that man could wear a burlap sack that he would still look good. 

You were shamelessly staring at him when he turned to look at you, giving you the smuggest look you’ve seen on his face in a while. 

Oh. Oh the bastard. He knew the effect he had on you. And he loved it. 

Mmm. 

That sort of called for a little lesson, right ? Punishment, perhaps ?

And the environment was perfect. Here he was, taking care of the barbecue, while surrounded by friends asking for burgers...The perfect setting to fluster Bruce Wayne. 

You took your phone out, and wrote everything you wanted to do to him. The way that polo shirt was clinging to his muscles definitely fueled your imagination. 

You pressed send, and sat back in your chair, sipping on your non-alcoholic cocktail. You smiled at Lois and Dinah as they came to sit next to you, and took part in their conversation (they were talking about how annoying Oliver and Clark could be, yet how great they were too, and ah you could relate to this haha). But you kept a lookout for Bruce. 

His phone rang. The infamous “family beep”. But he didn’t immediately react. Probably because his entire family was reunited here, and he could see none of them were in trouble. 

He was probably thinking it was you sending him a text about how well you wanted your burger. Or something like that. And that’s when...

Your oldest son was coming with a plate full of uncooked food for the barbecue, and was about to settle it on the table next to his dad, but his phone was in the way. So he took it in his hand, and as he settled the plate Bruce’s phone rung again. 

You stood up, and called out, a little panicked : 

“No no no wait Dick ! Hey ! Don’t look at-”

Too late. You could see, as your son turned very pale, eyes widening and looking very ill, that he saw what you send your husband...

Damn it. And it was a very imaginative one at that, today...You sighed, knowing what was about to happen.

“WHAT THE FUCK ?!” 

Dick turned towards his father, looking as if he had just been betrayed. And Bruce has no idea what’s happening. 

“WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE YOUR PHONE OUT LIKE THAT IF THIS IS WHAT YOU’RE GONNA RECEIVE ?!” 

And suddenly, your husband understands. And he’s not sure if he’s amused or if he wants to frown at you. He gives you a quick glance, and you shrug. You definitely didn’t intend on traumatizing your son with this... 

Dick takes hold of his salad bowl, looks at his father straight in the eyes and says : 

“You disgust me.” Oh, but it was said in such an overdramatic, over the top way. It was impossible for you not to grin. 

And on that note, absolutely outraged and rather grossed out, Dick leaves to go grumpily eat his salad, alone at one of the outside table. Slowly, his siblings go to him, wondering what happened and why he screamed like that. 

But as they see you slowly laugh your ass off, as they see their father who’s not sure if he should be flustered, ashamed or amused, and as they see Dick’s face...They all understand the subject of it all. They don’t know the exact things that happened. But they know their parents enough, and particularly the way you sometimes couldn’t get your hands off of each others, to know what this all was about. 

Cue a bunch of “oh no ewwwww”, and a few “in front of your salad ?!” doubled with “this is a family event...”, and you definitely can’t stop laughing. 

You feel a little bad, because you really didn’t intend on your son seeing what you had to say. And this was definitely one of the worst thing that happened on the spectrum of “my parents are gross...ly in love”. But you can’t help it. Your kids’ faces are just too funny. 

And the way Bruce tries to resist looking at his phone to see what you said, while obviously being very curious (and feeling a little hot, the heat outside not being the reason)...it was just the icing on the cake. 

So what if you were a little evil, and liked to tease him a bit too much ? And what if there were some little collateral damages along the way ? 

As you always said, nobody was perfect. 

Sometimes, it is welcomed.

Oh but there are days. Harder than others. Where you do it, not to fluster or annoy him, but to take his mind off of his troubles.

Like right now.

You could see him, in the middle of this sea of people. Not feeling like he belongs. And dwelling on painful past events.

You went to get him a drink, for once. You left him alone for a few minutes, as you made your way to the bar and ordered the usual non-alcoholic drinks you two got. But when you turned around...

Here he was. 

Lost. In a place he did not want to be in, but had to so he could keep the “Brucie” facade he put up all those years. So the suspicion about him being Batman could never even start. And so he could put his money to good use. 

Charity, rebuilding the city, funding schools, hospitals...All of this required his presence. 

But oh. Oh he really didn’t want to be there. If it was up to him, he would probably be home, with his kids, in front of a movie they chose. Bonus point if you were snuggled up to him. 

This was his “one night a week” he HAD to not go out as Batman. And it killed you, that this night was too often used for such events... 

But alas, choosing the life you both chose required certain sacrifices. Including a few hours mingling with people you don’t even like, to try and make your city a better place. 

There was, however, something you could do for him. Something that would cheer him up, in this moment of “I wish I was somewhere else”. 

The “dirty texting to fluster Bruce” tactic wasn’t only used in mischievous way, to make him fluster and blush and such. 

No. No sometimes, sometimes it was used to cheer him up. 

Like now. 

Bruce’s mind was elsewhere, drowning in this sea of people he couldn’t even remember the names of. 

Until a familiar “beep” resounded in his pocket. 

The family “beep”. 

Without a second thought, he takes his phone out and...

Yes. There are certain moments, in which you sending him the dirtiest text he ever read (and being the “most eligible bachelor” for quite a while, he already received quite the saucy sexte), while you are in public, instead of flustering him would...

He finds you in the crowd easily. 

He always found it easy, to single you out. Even while amongst this many people. It’s because to him, you shine. Almost quite literally. 

He never had any difficulties finding his way back to you, even in the most crowded places...Sometimes, he joked that it’s because he could feel his love for you guide him. When he feels extra sappy, he says it with a serious tone. 

And he means it. 

He does. 

It’s easy, to find you. Because he knows where to look. As if instinct linked you to him all those years ago. And he knows. He knows it’s because he never loved anyone like he loves you. 

And right now, as you sent him a particularly graphic text in the hope to take his mind off of whatever dark thoughts he was getting lost in, he definitely finds it extra easy to find your face. 

There you are. 

And he smiles at you. Widely. So pure. Rare, for a man like him. 

Because he knows. He knows this time, you didn’t send this to him to fluster him in front of people, but to distract him. 

And it works. Oh damn it works. 

His smile turns “sexy”, as anyone would say, and he looks very smug, as you walk towards him. 

In truth, whenever you send him such a text, he always feel a little rush. Wether you’re trying to fluster him, or just cheer him up. 

That man was as in love with you as if it was the first day, forever stuck in the honeymoon phase...Why wouldn’t he appreciate receiving hot texts from you ?

Even when you were purposefully trying to make him blush, there was a little part of him, although it was infuriating how satisfied you look that you ALWAYS succeeded, that just loved those texts. 

You’re right next to him now, handing him his drink. He takes it smoothly from your hand, 

“Thank you, my love.” 

You wink at him, reveling in his warmth, snuggling a little closer albeit staying rather discreet, as this was an official event, after all. 

His hand squeeze your waist a little, and you know what he’s about to do. He bends down to your ear and whispers, all suave and smug : 

“What was this about needing um, a little disciplining ?” 

You smile, knowing your mission was a frank success as he’s definitely not thinking about not wanting to be there anymore. Well. He most likely does. But he’s not dwelling on pain and misery for sure. And he’s not thinking those dark thoughts he can have sometimes...

You give him a coy look, and then you say : 

“When we get out of here, I’ll show you.” 

Oh you make him melt. Unable to hide his bedroom eyes, he gives your forehead a chaste kiss in the hope to regain countenance. 

But it’s too late. You successful diverged his thoughts from any darkness...But now all he can think about is you. 

And what you told him you wanted him to do to you. 

Yes. Sometimes...Sometimes, you sending him absolutely dirty texts in public was everything he needed to come back to life. 

As ridiculous as this sounded. 

You were his lifeline so many times...He had no idea, at this point, what he would do without you. He couldn’t go back to the way he lived before you. No. He couldn’t. 

And you wouldn’t let him anyway. Because no matter what, you were here for him. Your unconditional love, and self-admittedly cheekiness was here for him. 

Ah. How good it felt, to be the only one in the world that could show off about being able to “fluster” the Batman himself. 

_________________________________________________

I think I haven’t written something that short in like...ever haha. I haven’t re-read myself, this is just a quick bonus story :).  It’s really just a little fun thing to write, nothing too serious or detailed or with too much feels ^^'. A quick drabble written for the sake of writing haha. I hope you liked it anyway, and aren’t disappointed or something ? 

Just wanted to show an unknown almost “evil” side to Batmom ? Hahahaha. Anyway : Any comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated ^^. Thanks in advance, and see you soon with an actual story ! There’s one coming just this week-end ;).

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

Plan PDA Pt 2 (Dick Grayson X Male!Reader)

Characters: Dick Grayson X Male!Reader

Universe: DC, Batman

Warnings: None

First part: https://lazydoodlesandfanfic.tumblr.com/post/614948297825730560/plan-pda-dick-grayson-x-malereader

Request: Maybe a part 2 to PDA w/ Dick Grayson/Male!reader? Like, someone trying to push himself onto M!R during his day job & Dick coming in to save him, cus D. was going to pick M!R up after work&being all cute&protective (maybe Jason for back-up). They go to the manor for movie night & Jason sends a photo/video to all their (super)friends where D&M!R are all snuggled up & half asleep. During snuggles D softly asks M!R to marry him &M!R says yes &Jason definitely caught that on tape too

You were on break at your work, on call with your boyfriend like you did every break, sometimes to talk about each other’s day, sometimes to plan what each of you wanted for dinner, and sometimes to plan how you were going to up the ante at the next party until Bruce personally asked you to stop with the PDA. However, today you were ranting. 

You had been keeping your boyfriend up to date on the new member of staff who worked in a different department, but worked on the same floor as you, and how since he started, he had started flirting with you, and with each turn down, he amped it up. You’d outright told him that you were taken and not interested, but with no luck. He didn’t seem to believe you on the whole ‘my boyfriend is kind of infamous here in Gotham, how have you heard about our relationship?’ It went from funny to annoying real fast, and you just wanted it to be over with and to be left alone. 

“It’s honestly getting ridiculous.” You groaned over the phone. “He keeps asking if I want to get drinks with him as I’m leaving work and he won’t stop talking to me during work.”

“I know... I have an idea See you in a bit.” Dick told you before he hung up. Immediately you were on high alert- what the hell was he planning? It wasn’t long till your break ended, so you finished your lunch and went back to your desk to organise some files that Bruce had asked you to do, and it wasn’t long after that when your co worker came over to bother you again. 

“You busy?” He asked you, leaning on your desk. You didn’t look up, focussing on the papers in front of you.

“Yep.” You answered shortly. Admittedly you’d already sorted the files out into their respective piles, and now you were just putting the files in date order, which wasn’t necessary, but you still did it since you wanted to look busy. “Can I help you with something?” You asked. 

“Not right now, but you work too hard, the boss should be giving you more breaks and a bonus- maybe you could finish early today and we could go out for drinks?” He asked you. 

“Mr Wayne already gives me more than enough leeway, I assure you.” You told him with a smile, though your eyes were screaming for him to fuck off. “I don’t want to abuse the trust and respect he’s given me.” 

“Trust and respect? He doesn’t really talk to you unless he needs something, what makes you think he gives you special treatment?” Your coworker asked, fiddling with little things on your desk. You looked up at him, about ready to kindly ask him if he had any work he needed to do, when you saw someone jogging up, and you smiled with relief. 

“Hey babe!” Dick greeted gleefully, your coworker turning to the sight of the oldest son of the CEO. Dick didn’t even acknowledge the man’s presence as he rounded your desk, giving you a big kiss. “Talked with the old man- you can go home early today. Jay said he’s gonna order takeout for us. Need help packing up?” He asked you as he messed with your hair. You could practically feel the horror emanating from the coworker, who silently turned and rushed off. 

“Did you really get Bruce’s permission?” You asked him, and he grinned. 

“Absolutely. Also he’s going to ask you to be on call most of the days from now on, so if that guy ever comes over you again, ‘accidentally’ press the call button and let him hear in.” Dick told you as he grabbed your bag for you as you put the paperwork away, turned off your computer and got up with Dick. 

He drove you back to the manor, where as promised, Jason was waiting with pizza and some movies to watch, as well as the promise that if the guy doesn’t back off next time to just call him and he’d deal with it. You thanked him before getting comfy, curling up with your boyfriend on the couch while Jason took an armchair to himself. “I’m lucky to have you.” You whispered to Dick as the movie progressed. Dick looked down at you, smiling and kissing your head, before holding your hand in his. You looked down at your hands. 

“How do you feel about getting married?” He asked you. 

“Can we invite my coworker to get the point across that I’m taken?” You responded.”

“I’m serious.” He chuckled to you. You looked back up at him smiling. 

“Of course I’d marry you.” You told him, reaching up and kissing him again, before cuddling closer, and eventually falling asleep. 

Jason wasn’t asleep, in fact he heard you two talking and being cute and decided to record it, and when he heard the proposal, he sent it to basically the entire justice league, while already placing dibs on being the flower girl, immediately being told ‘absolutely not, Todd’ by Bruce.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in! 

*Not my gif

TAGS:  @theplacewhererobindied @rebellionofthecattle @courtneychicken​  @graysonmalfoy​ @bellero​ @originalpottervengerlock​ @supernatural-pan​ @esoltis280​ @lena-stan-xavier​ @lady-of-lies​ @sebstanismylife​ @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980​ @cdwmtjb8​ @caswinchester2000​ @determinedpines​  

[capricorn-stark]

Othello

pairing: jason todd x reader, reader is a psych major because i think the concept of psych majors in Gotham is funny lmao

warning: i wrote this at 1 am, kinda short, swearing

a/n: i got strong feelings towards Othello, The Catcher in the Rye, and Jason Todd, but this one’s for @tadpole-san smirk smirk smirk

part 2

You liked studying at Gotham University’s library for the ambience. 

Whether or not you got any actual “studying” done depended wholly on your mood and whatever being that may or may not have been watching you from above, but even if you somehow managed to procrastinate the entire time you were there, at least you could walk back to your dorm with the comforting fact that you had gotten in your cardio for the day. 

The place itself was gorgeous with its overarching ceilings, long hall lined with pillars supporting a seemingly endless array of books, the cozy golden glow of the lights, and the generally pleasant atmosphere provided by the myriads of students sitting around its tables and lounging on its couches. The entire campus was stunning - but it would only be surprising if it wasn’t thanks to the very generous grants from patrons of the Gotham elite, most notably people like Bruce Wayne.

You had a particular spot you liked near the edge of the library, in a little corner mostly surrounded by shelves with enough space for a few usually-unoccupied couches. Aside from you, the only regulars to sit there mainly just consisted of one other guy who recently had started to drop in every few days or so to listen to music and do his own work. You didn’t mind him - he never bothered you, and you both kept up your mutual solidarity towards maintaining a very comfortable silence.

That was, until one particular day.

“Is that Othello?” You glanced over the book in your hand and saw the guy’s startlingly green eyes gazing right at you over his dark-rimmed reading glasses. He wasn’t wearing his earbuds as per usual, so you figured your agonized sigh of boredom must’ve come out a little too loudly. 

“Yeah,” you finally answered, slowly lowering the book a little. “Unfortunately.” He cracked a slight grin at that.

“What, you’re not a fan of Shakespeare?” 

“I don’t hate him,” you started with a fairly nonchalant shrug, “I just think this book in particular is just kinda-”

“Boring as fuck?” he finished very eloquently, causing you to grin back despite yourself. 

“Yeah. Pretty much.” 

“I can agree with that,” he said with a nod towards the book. “Definitely not one of my favorites, that’s for sure. Good premise, dynamics were pretty interesting, but I couldn’t really get into it either.” The fact that he was discussing Shakespeare’s works in a way that suggested he had fully read the book (without wholly relying on CliffNotes) and that he did perhaps genuinely enjoy some of them suggested to you that he was probably an English major. “And Iago was a bitch-”

“I know!” you nearly exclaimed, throwing your hands up in very evident frustration. “Iago was shady as hell, and I don’t get how Othello never saw it coming from him. Like, no one can be that oblivious, come on. I wouldn’t have listened to him.” RIP to Othello, but you were different. 

He was actually laughing at that point, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“You and me both. You an English major?” You shook your head, holding up your Psychology Twelfth Edition textbook that had been resting on the table beside you.

“Psych.” He raised a brow and you inwardly sighed.

“Jeez - at GU? I’m impressed.” 

Being a psych student at your particular Gotham-based university was both a blessing and somewhat of a curse. The classes were phenomenal and your professors consisted of some of the best and most experienced in the nation - but that also came with the downside that the city you lived in had some of the biggest psychopaths and the largest insane asylum in the nation as well. 

Well, you win some, you lose some.

“It’s not that bad,” you tried to say, but the smirk playing at his lips proved that you weren’t convincing anyone. “Let me guess, you’re an English major.”

“What gave it away?” he deadpanned, chuckling regardless as he closed up his own book and extended a hand out. “Name’s Jason Todd. I’ve seen you around a lot, but we never really talked, huh?” You smiled as you reached out to shake his hand, introducing yourself as well.

“I guess not. You usually look like you’re pretty busy.”

“Something like that,” Jason grinned, leaning back against his chair and sliding off his glasses. Without them, the lights somehow gave them an almost glowing effect. “I figured you wouldn’t want me to bother you.”

Bantering over Shakespeare with a cute boy wasn’t exactly your definition of being bothered, so you shook your head.

“Believe me, that was a lot better than Othello was.”

You saw Jason at your spot again the next day, then the day after and the next, lounging across from your couch and always seeming rather out-of-place with his black leather jackets and ripped jeans, but a welcome sight to you nonetheless. And just like that, suddenly, your visits to the library weren’t just for the sake of cardio and the ambience anymore.

He was surprisingly amusing to talk to, whether it was complaining about more books for your respective English courses or just ranting to each other about the struggles of being a student at GU. It was easy to bond over things like getting your midterms interrupted by random threats from the likes of the Riddler, or arguing over whether or not the city’s latest vigilante, some guy named Red Hood, was actually cooler than Batman himself. 

He had been particularly passionate about that last debate.

Aside from being easy-going and annoyingly attractive, you also figured out that he was ridiculously smart, especially when it came to helping you with your English course. Whether it was explaining the deeper societal message behind a particular reading or helping you research topics for your thesis, Jason had a knack towards figuring out exactly the things you yourself seemed to struggle with. 

“How do you figure all of this out?” You asked one day out of sheer disbelief after he connected The Catcher in the Rye to themes of disillusionment about innocence and one’s childhood, and not just towards the protagonist, Holden, being an ass. “Seriously, I thought I was pretty decent with this stuff, but you blow me out of the water.”

He shrugged it off like it was no big deal, sliding off his reading glasses and setting it on top of the wooden table you were at. You had grown fond of the way they looked on him.

“It’s nothing special,” he dismissed in response, lifting his gaze from the book to fixate it back on you. “You do great by yourself, I just kinda give you a little push with my interpretations.” 

He did that a lot - downplaying the fact that he was actually smart as hell like it really was no big deal. The way your grades had started rising after he started helping you out proved otherwise, though.

“Still, thanks for helping me out,” you insisted, eliciting another slight smile from him. “It means a lot.” 

“Oh yeah?” His tone had gotten cheekier as he leaned closer to you. “How much is a lot?” 

“That’s up for you to decide,” you smirked, moving back and closing up your laptop. “Not me.” 

“You know, if you really wanted to thank me, you should get a coffee with me sometime.” 

“We get coffee together like every week,” you deadpanned and he sighed.

“Not like that. Like a date.” 

It hit you like a truck.

“A date,” you repeated, like you hadn’t heard him the first time. 

“Only if you were into that,” he added, trying to play it cool as he moved to pack his things into his bag. “I’m not working tonight, so I thought you might wanna give it a shot.” That was even more surprising, because he always happened to have a mysterious night shift going on. He never told you what exactly that was, aside from off-handedly mentioning something about motorcycles and Crime Alley every once in a while.

You were still letting it process. 

“...if you don’t want to-”

“No, no - that sounds great,” you interjected, already starting to smile. At the sight of it, he managed another grin himself, an evident hint of relief flashing across his face.

“Right. Yeah. Cool.” He cleared his throat and shot you another grin as he tossed his bag over his shoulder. “Let’s head out. And I’m telling you right now, I’m not letting your broke ass pay for it.”

“Jason!” you protested as he laughed and nudged your shoulder with his, making you join in despite yourself.

At least Othello had managed to lead you to one good thing.

[sleeping-lilies]

robin era jason, dick, and babs headcanons because there’s too much comedic potential to ignore

- dick and babs were the ultimate gossip buddies. whenever dick was with the titans for long periods of time, babs always filled him in on everything

babs: dick you’ll never believe what hal said to bruce last night, i even have videos. dick, the look on his face please—

dick, immediately locking doors so his teammates don’t hear the mad shit about to be dropped on main: tell me everything

- vice versa too, dick filled babs in on everything going on with the titans and all they can say is thank god those lines are bat secured with no villains being able to listen in, imagine deathstroke hearing through bat gossip that joey’s dating who?!?! 😳

- batkids have been and always will be the holder of superhero gossip. it’s a business, you see, but we’re getting off topic 😡

- lmfao anyways this is literally how dick finds out about jason

babs: anyways, jason—

dick: who the fuck is jason

babs: ....

dick: barbara?!?!

babs: ok promise you won’t freak out

- babs and dick’s first reaction upon meeting jason being “why is he so small i wasnt that small” “dick you were literally nine when you were robin—“ “he’s tiny” it’s like those two share the same braincell

- i’m making it so that dick gave jason his number earlier because i feel like it 😡😡😡 (not that it changes much other than the fact that i want more gossip dropped in dm’s)

- when dick gave jason his number, he went to babs like “give me jason’s number” “didn’t you literally just give him your’s?” “ya but i’m gonna make sure he texts me” “ya ok that’s fair”

- whenever jason didn’t want to be in the manor (fight with bruce, boredom, etc) he went to wherever the fuck babs lived and they would facetime dick and talk mad shit. it was a thing.

- despite them all being able to drive, babs was the only one during this time with an actual, legitimate, legal license (jason was too young to have a license and dick is too lazy/busy/whatever-excuse-he-wants-to-use to take the permit and driving test) so babs drove them around everywhere and it was a mess™ consisting of a bunch of backseat drivers

- “dick omg look at this video i found from the batcave” “omg he said robin gives him magic” “robin gives him magic” they both cry about it for years to come

- babs sometimes kidnapped jason after school after telling the head of wayne manor (alfred) and took him to get ice cream, then to the library while she worked. jason was the greatest kid in the library, he even had his own throne special chair just for him whenever he came provided by library staff who adored this absolute angel.

- jason 🤝 babs 🤝 dick -> i believe in annoying yet endearing nicknames supremacy

- nicknames include (some used by some more than others or just one, or by both equally because they’re annoying pick and choose my good people)

little wing (iconic, we all know this one fellas and who uses it)

red (used for babs, absolutely fantastic, but in the future it gets confusing because some people with their goddamn hero names 😡)

boy wonder (classic, babs calls them both that)

barbie (for babs, jason uses this one and he’s the only one able to get away with it)

dickie (jason just really gets away with everything huh)

dickhead (jason’s lucky he’s cute)

baba black sheep (jeez i’m on a roll with babs’ nicknames she’s so nickname-able and that’s very cool and sexy of her)

jay z

jay allen

jay jay jay (shut up, dickhead—)

big bird

and a bunch more i’m too tired to look for them in canon or make new ones up, but you get the idea

- dick can totally bake, and babs and jason keep bugging him when he’s baking and add more chocolate chips while pretending to not notice that he can see them 😡😡😡

- headcanon that jason had hero worship for babs and dick because they’re so cool in and out of costume and it never really went away when he got older listen his older brother and pseudo sister are so cool and that’s not his fault but he’ll never admit it

- barbie movie marathons because barbie is an iconic legend and they all recognize it. they have the fucking “she’s the queen of the WA-A-A-AVES” song memorized along with all other barbie movie songs, they sing it on patrol.

- dick and jason’s sibling dynamic was and is basically “ur a little shit and i hate you but i will literally kill for you”

- dick had tension with bruce while jason was just a little shit who would totally cause drama for the sake of it, and people never take advantage of this absolute power duo for destroying bruce

- dick sending cryptid texts to jason through a burner phone because he’s dramatic jason totally knew it was him about things that drive bruce mad, like leaving the shower turned to the coldest setting before bruce got there, leaving the lights in the batcave on, etc. jason, a wise little child, totally took advantage of this. bruce came to accept his fate

- the gc names, guys the group chat names

- jason crashing into titans tower whenever he wants and dick doesn’t bat (hAH) an eye, occasionally he very sweetly asks babs to come with him and she agrees but only sometimes because some people have jobs, jason—wait dick is being flirted with by who?!?! i’ll leave it up to your imagination ;) and they totally crashed titans missions too

- one time bruce was busy with the league while alfred was on vacation and bruce absolutely could not dip (i’m imagining bruce getting a call from the headmaster during an honest to god fight and bruce just picking up while punching the daylights out of some asshole) (“mr wayne, what is that noise in the background?” “sorry, headmaster, the cat is having a seizure”), so when jason got into a “fight” (read: some jackass picking on jason before he snapped and yelled at him and the bitchass kid tried to punch him and jason’s no quitter) bruce called dick who was an adult and legally family (yes dick is adopted sometime after jason was, stay mad) like “son... son please” and dick was like “oh no need to plead with me, this is too good” but of course this bitchass doesn’t have an actual lisence yet and he was hanging out with babs anyways so he and babs rolled up to gotham academy and the kids stared at them like “holy shit they’re so cool” ya dick and babs are those power couple, whether romantic or not, that turn heads, they’re just that powerful strolled into the office, bailed jason out while intimidating the headmaster because the altercation was the result of school staff negligence of actual bullying like those cliche tropes, said “ayyy you got that brat good” and get him chili dogs or whatever the fandom made robin jason’s favorite food. omg i just made an entire fanfic in rough draft form someone please steal it and write it in full form and send me the link

- jason is very very tiny, you see. babs and dick pick him up and move him for any reason, whether because they want to sit on that chair or to just throw him out of harm’s way and take the bullet for themselves.

- jason and dick both get adorable blushes on their faces it’s genetic yes that’s how genetics work shut up meanwhile babs’ ears turn red when she’s embarrassed and all three of them clown each other for it

- i yelled about this to my mutual (cough cough @littlespaceboii) who also added to this absolute dogshit headcanon and then in the discord full of mutuals, but the basement of wayne manor is haunted. dick found it when he was a little gremlin (i stand by that dick was the original demon child) (“you see damian, before there was you there was me” the real reason he was good with damian lmfao) and was like “omg this is so cool” @littlespaceboii came up with that it was just alfred fucking with bruce and so when jason first came and dick was comfy around him he was like “so have you been in the basement” and jason was like “im literally robin i’ve been in the batcave?!?!” and dick goes “no the basement, the haunted one” and jason’s like “hAUNTED?!?!” cuz jason has at least some self preservations and knows not to fuck with the spookies until he too became a spooky and bruce was like “there’s no ghost it’s not haunted” because he’s a skeptic and a party pooper and babs is like “no go on let him finish” even though she knows full well there are no ghosts or does she? and uhhhh basically they becomes ghostbusters 2.0 but cooler and funnier

- this trio is basically baby pan/bisexual jason and two resident expert pan/bisexuals solidarity but that’s literally canon. they go to pride every year that jason’s alive what who said that?

- they all tease each other for their crushes like all siblings/family friends do, i don’t need to say it but it’s important that’s emphasized for my well being

- yelled about this in the discord to the mutuals who added onto this absolute train wreck too, but jason used to play baseball during his robin days, and dick never showed up to those games with being busy as an excuse, but babs always showed up with bruce and alfred and took pictures for dick so dick could be like “mlb players are jobless now that little wing is on the scene” babs (and sometimes bruce) always shouted loudest for jason whether he was in the field or in the dugout and jason would get this extremely adorable blush on his face (jason finds out in the future why dick never showed up (cough cough ptsd from two face’s massive baseball bat which led to everything that came after including being fired and veangance academy and nearly killing two face and omg that’s a ride) and is like oh my god my childhood is even more ruined—)

- remember when i said dick got adopted after jason did in this new absolutely fabulous canon i just created? bruce did that because “ahhh fuck that’s my kid and i want him to know i love him through every means possible since i have the ability to do so” i believe in good dad bruce supremacy and made a whole thing where he invited dick to dinner for like a week to work up the courage and bonding to ask him and show him the adoption papers and then everyone cried :) bruce decided to finally adopt dick after jason referred to dick as his brother and bruce was like “...oh” and alfred was like 👀

- dick, as the first child hero and one of the first heroes period like at least a year or two before babs, holds the “back in my day” card over literally everyone in the hero community in general and pulls it out to annoy babs and jason even tho babs literally joined the scene only a year or two after dick

jason, shaking in his panties: it’s so fucking cold

dick, standing strong in his tits out outfit, who had to wear the panties on his own decision: oh, you’re cold? back in my day—

babs, throwing her boot at his face: god shut the fuck up—

and then dick doesn’t give back her boot and it becomes a whole thing with lots of tackling and play fighting and someone nearly gets thrown off they rooftop for funsies but anyways

also on a side note, babs would take off her cape and wrap it around jason whenever she noticed his discomfort with the weather, or use the weather as an excuse whenever she saw him uneasy for whatever reason and they never mention it to each other

- yelled about this in the discord to the mutuals at some point too holy shit i have friends, but those three are team rocket. they went out as team rocket for halloween one year after bullying bruce to let jason out only jason because he can’t tell dick and babs what to do and jason is under his care and when they do convince him, dick and babs bully jason into being meowth. manifesting jason in a meowth onesie ARTISTS PLEASE—

- dick finally took his license seriously and took his driver’s test after babs became paralyzed.

- those were a rough few months for those three. and then another rough few months for those two

- yikes, sorry to throw angst at you (sorry (unfeeling)) anyways, in the future alfred finds those old photos and shows the rest of the fam, so dick and babs bully jason, 6’2 jason that towers way above both of them, and once again bullies him into being meowth “for tradition, little wing!” “shut up, dickhead” the rest of the batkids lose their shit over this, naturally. bruce and alfred stand in the back teary eyed reminiscing the old days when things were a little more simple.

- discowing walked so terrifying handsome squidward red hood helmet could run (even tho the ugly helmet tripped and fell and missed the mark because discowing wasn’t ugly and will always remain superior, i feel i have committed a terrible crime comparing the two)

dick: jason what the fuck is that

jason: it’s fashion

dick: it’s terrifying

jason: i’m only following in my older brother’s footsteps 😔

dick: listen here, you little shit strangles him haha just kidding that illegal wait theyre vigilantes they don’t follow the law—

- these three and cass refer to the rest of the batkids as “the kids” (if she’s older than jason, sometimes she is and sometimes she isn’t and i’m really confused but whatever)

- babs and dick’s relationship with jason pre death literally shaped how jason treats his siblings post pit madness like he literally goes “what would red and big bird do?!??” when he needs to go into big brother mode over the “little ones” (“little” because tim and steph are adults and duke is nearly an adult himself oh my god he’ll graduate from high school soon and jason never got to do that himself he’s totally going to the ceremony legally dead or not) 🥺

- holy trinity continue hanging out with each other, whether lunch or games or whatever, and just enjoy each other’s company after long, rough years