#dad!flash

[icyfox17]

I FOUND THE PANEL

I DONT HAVE THE REST OF THE CONVERSATION WHICH JUST??? ok me,,,DONT ss wally talking about barry as a father thats totally fine,,,

anyways holds this near & dear

im ignoring y this conversation is happening jn the 1st place tho bc head in hands omg bart

IHMFYDOGKFUSHDOGKDOSGDJOHMDHSKHDOHJHDOJDDOHFKSOHNFKSIOHJDOHHFOOHFKKYSHDOHKDUDYOUDDOGJFOHDKDHDJOSGDOFUDOGODUDODHDODHDKDIDIDIDDDJDBDKDHKHDODHDODHDIRHEIRUOSJDODUDIFUDKHDOSHDOSHODHDIDHDOSHSODJDOHKYFODHPHDMYPHMYGODOHMYDOHBSOSHDKHLSUODHSKEHDKDHDKHWKHIDYSIHHHSISJDHDHSJSKKDKDKSJSSJKSKKDJJEJDKDKDKDMSJDJKDDJSJFHJDHDKSHKDHDKDJDKDHDKDKDK

I AM NOT OKAY HOLYHSITTTOGMYFODHDKFH

CRYING

SOBBIGN

WAILING

THEY MEAN SO MUCH TO ME OHJYGODJDKFKFLDKDJFF

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡😭😭😭😭😭😭💥💥💥💥💥😭😭😭😭😭🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶😭😭😭😭🫶😭🫶😭🫶😭🫶😭🫶😭💥😭💥😭🫶😭💥😭🫶😭💥😭⚡⚡😭⚡😭⚡😭⚡⚡😭😭🫶😭🫶😭⚡😭😭🫶😭😭🫶💪😭💪😭⚡😭⚡😭⚡😭⚡😭😭😭🫶💥😭😭🫶😭💥😭🫶😭🫶😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[brucedefender4eva]

On a Justice League mission

Wonder Woman: Where’s Barry? I had assumed he would be here before us

*Flash runs in, holding Bruce in a Princess carry*

Flash: Incoming! *sets Batman down* Whew! Damn Bats, you gain some weight?

Batman: *glares* …

Flash: Sorry… that was mean

Batman: Hrn *pats Barry on the head once*

Superman: *clears throat and floats in between them* Ehem… anyways… how are we supposed to-

Batman: *cuts Clark off by shaking his cape. This causes Spoiler and Black Bat to fall out* Got it covered

Spoiler: Damn it B! I was taking a nap! You could’ve at least given us a warning

Black Bat: *finishes that macaroons she was eating* Lets get to work

Batman: *nods at them as they walk off chattering*

Justice League: …?

Green Lantern: How… how do you keep doing that?

Green Arrow: *muttering to himself* It’s not possible… it’s not possible…

Superman: I… are there more in there?

Wonder Woman: Batman, is the small fierce and stabby warrior with you? I would enjoy teaching him more techniques!

Batman: *ignores them*

[nyukaart]

I'd like to think after taking care of the batkids Bruce just naturally became more attentive towards the JL members without realizing it and it drives them crazy when it first started happening

For instance, Clark trying to find a pen under the table that he dropped and Bruce subconsciously covers the edge of the table with his hand. So when Clark bumps his head he was not expecting feeling soft hand cushioning the blow and hearing Bruce go something along the lines of "be more careful" he's just like "???"

Another scenario is Diana and Bruce in his car (undercover mission or something idk) and when he breaks he instinctly had his hand Infront of Diana who's in the passenger seat( that thing mom's do) and just pretend nothing happens afterwards

Barry accidentally tripping while he's doing his usual thing and sees Bruce make a "I told you so" face but he can see he's slightly worried

I just think batman being a mother hen of sorts towards the JL would be silly

[batfamhastwitter]

Part 44! Fun fact, I actually am a natural ginger, but I have been able to gaslight a specific few people into thinking that I'm blonde and just dye it. They've thought that for at least two years at this point. I want to see how long it can go lmao

Prev ~ Beginning ~ Next

[arkangelo-7]

Things Bruce Wayne does at Justice League meetings that 100% confirm the fact that he is a Dad.

Makes attempts at referencing pop culture to try and relate to the younger members. The most memorable instance is when he told Flash to “keep running up that hill.” (Dick laughs for an hour when Wally tells him about it.)

Does the iconic groan/grunt whenever he sits down in his chair. It’s hilarious, but no one is dumb enough to laugh at the Batman.

Ensures that the background music exclusively plays Matchbox 20 and Nirvana. Diana is the only one who enjoys this.

Actively complain about how everyone is “ruining his floor” whenever they push back their chairs.

On that note, he also complains about crumbs getting everywhere whenever someone is snacking.

Will (covertly) ask Clark for grilling tips during breaks. Oliver overhears this once and has to go lay down out of shock, because Batman? Grilling?

Declines requests for new equipment/tools/etc. because they “have that at the Watchtower.” This inevitably leads to complaining from the entire JL.

Always, without fail, will ask Hal if he’s changed the oil in the spacecraft recently. Hal doesn’t know whether to be offended or not.

Randomly interrogates members on if they’ve messed with the Hall of Justice’s thermostat. They have not, in fact, touched the thermostat.

Someone needs to stop me because I literally cannot get the image of Bruce being the Typical Dad (tm) of the Justice League.

[olailamajnoon]

Bruce enters the conference room on the Watchtower. He is wearing a baby carrier with a baby inside it.

There is a hoo-ha.

"Why is there a baby," whispers Flash to Superman.

Clark shrugs. "It's probably one of the Robins."

"What?" says Barry tightly. "No, none of them are that age!"

"Jesus Bar, it's like you've never heard of de-aging beams."

"I'm not feeling good about the fact that you're taking this so lightly." Barry scratches at his five o' clock shadow. "If it is a Robin, it's very weird. But it's more weird if it's not."

"Maybe it's a Batgirl," suggests Diana, leaning in. "Cass or...or Steph. The purple one."

"That fits the purple diaper," says Barry reflectively.

"Barry stop hyperfixating on this," Clark says. "Let it go."

The baby is crying a little, sucking on its thumb. Batman gives it a chew toy as he continues working, and then produces a bottle out from under his cape, and holding the baby's head at a careful angle, begins to feed it.

"Batman..." Flash says, miserably curious. "Why do you have a baby?" He points at it, as if to make clear what baby he is talking about.

Bruce looks up, his brow furrowed. "Newly orphaned. Mother threw her from the spire of a church tower in Scarecrow-fear-toxin-induced hallucinations. Then she threw herself. I could only save one."

Barry looks like the dictionary illustration for the word 'flabbergasted'.

"Oh," is all he says. "Oh. Okay."

"I've found her a good home. She'll leave in a few hours." Bruce looks down, and then mutters to himself, "I just wanted to hold her".

Superman pretends he doesn't have super-hearing.

[gothamite-rambler]

Jason (crossing his arms with attitude): What are you going to do? I refuse to apologize.

Bruce stared at Jason in shock, and in his anger, he made a decision that every parent dreads.

Bruce (stern tone): You are grounded!

Jason (this is a whole adult, defiant): You can't ground me!

Bruce (firmly): Grounded!

Jason (shouting, confused): But I don't even live here!

Bruce turned Jason around and pointed to the stairs leading to his old room. Jason was too stunned to respond.

Bruce (stern, but calm): Tonight. Your room. Grounded!

Jason (stammering): I- I- Wait- This isn't fair!

Bruce (scolding parent voice): I'm very disappointed in you. Now go to your room. I'm only doing this because I care for you. Grounded.

Jason (face turning red with anger and sadness): This is some bullshit!

Jason stomped upstairs and slammed the door to his old room. The sound of random items being tossed around echoed through the house.

Bruce (indifferent): He'll work it out of his system. I'm going to bed.

Dick (looking at Tim, then Bruce as he heads upstairs): Did you just ground a 23-year-old?

Tim (surprised): And did it work?

Bruce: You forget I'm Batman.

masterlist

[emziess]

Bobby & Buck 9-1-1, S8

[greencaprisun]

(kids faces are blurred for privacy)

[sixeyesonathiel]

what happens when the pint-sized copy of gojo satoru fails the quiz his dad helped him review?

the door slams.

not shuts. not closes. slams—with the full, righteous fury only a small, betrayed child can muster. a tiny, furious body with too much emotion and too little upper-body strength, using every ounce of indignation to make an entrance.

a backpack ricochets off the hallway wall, landing with a sad, almost pitiful plop. you pause mid-slice, knife hovering above half a strawberry on the cutting board, sugar-dusted fingertips twitching.

from the living room, satoru blinks behind a pair of wire-framed reading glasses—askew on the bridge of his nose, balancing in the space where his usual sunglasses would sit. he’s sprawled lazily on the floor, legs kicked up onto the coffee table, wearing a pair of navy blue pajamas patterned with tiny mochi cats. an open manga flutters against his chest.

he doesn’t sit up. not yet. just slowly turns his head toward you, peering over the edge of the couch with the exact caution of prey sensing a distant predator.

“...was that the wind?” he asks, voice very hopeful.

you lift a brow, flicking your eyes toward the front hallway.

“baby,” you deadpan, “we don’t get wind indoors.”

and then—like a summoned curse echoing from the depths of a broken heart—a sound shatters the air.

a wail.

high-pitched. raw. as if the whole world had crumbled under a pair of light-up velcro sneakers. you barely have time to process it before—

“mamaaaaaa!! daddyyyyyyyy!!”

satoru flinches like he’s taken physical damage. the manga slips off his chest and hits the floor with a soft thup. both your heads snap toward the hall just in time to witness the grand, devastating arrival of your son.

he’s tiny. flushed pink from the cold or from his tears, it’s hard to tell. his white hair is a mop of fluffy chaos—tufts sticking up where little fingers must’ve raked through it on the playground, a single rebellious cowlick curled toward the sky like a question mark. cheeks blotchy. nose red. lower lip trembling so hard it casts its own shadow.

and he’s crying.

not sniffles. not whimpers.

crying. open-mouthed, sob-shattered wails that rattle the windows and tug at your heart. arms flailing, body stumbling forward like a tragic protagonist in a historical drama. his sleeves are too long—he must’ve tugged at them all day—and now they flap as he wipes his eyes with the cuffs, trailing streaks of moisture across the fabric.

your knife is already down. you round the kitchen island in record time and crouch, arms open.

“baby, what’s wrong?!”

he doesn’t just run into your arms—he launches himself, full body-weight, like a little cannonball of despair. his backpack thumps against your hip as he buries his face in your chest.

“i didn’t get ice creeeeeeam—!!”

you blink.

“...oh,” satoru says from behind you, having finally peeled himself off the floor. he crouches beside you, pajama pants riding up a little around the ankle. his hair’s a fluffy mess, eyes wide behind his reading glasses, mouth open like he’s still buffering. “you didn’t get what?”

“ice cream,” your son sobs, voice thick and hiccuping. “everybody got some ‘cause they passed the quiz and i didn’t—even though we studied!! even though we did the ming dynasty thing and daddy wore the stupid kimono!!!”

“it wasn’t stupid,” satoru frowns, indignant. “it was authentic.”

you pinch the bridge of your nose. “sweetheart, slow down. what quiz?”

“the history one,” your son says, sniffling miserably. “with the ming dyna—hic—sty and emperor yongle and daddy said if i remembered the porce… porcelain stuff i’d get full marks…”

you and satoru lock eyes.

oh.

that quiz.

the living room flashes back in your mind—satoru in a patterned bathrobe tied with your silk scarf, chopsticks in his hair, declaring himself emperor of all snacks. your son clutched his stomach from laughing so hard he rolled off the couch. satoru called it “immersive education.”

apparently... it wasn’t effective.

your son’s lower lip quivers again. he pulls back slightly to sniff, his little brows furrowed, his voice small and wounded. “it’s not fair… daddy said he was the best at history and he lied and now everyone got to go to the cafeteria for ice cream and i had to stay and read with ms. matsuda and it was boring and i don’t even like maps—”

satoru visibly stiffens. his head tilts.

“...oh no,” he mutters. “it was geography?”

you stare at him.

“wait,” you say slowly, turning back to your son, “you did the ming dynasty for geography?”

he pauses.

his eyes widen. he turns to satoru. horror dawns.

“...what?”

satoru clears his throat. tugs at the collar of his mochi cat pajama top.

“...oops?”

“daddy!!!” your son bellows, fists flying. he punches satoru’s arm with all the fury in his tiny frame. it’s like being attacked by a particularly angry cloud. satoru lets himself be dramatically thrown back onto the floor, flopping like a fish.

“argh!! fatal blow! betrayal by my own bloodline!!”

your son sniffles, shoulders rising and falling, too tired to be mad but too heartbroken to forgive. he plops back onto the floor with a heavy sigh, pulling his sleeves over his hands like a soggy little dumpling of grief.

“...so i don’t get any ice cream.”

from the floor, satoru grins.

“nope. you’re getting a whole bucket.”

you whirl on him. “satoru—!”

“what? he suffered, he deserves it.” satoru pushes his glasses up and cracks his knuckles. cursed energy begins to shimmer faintly around him, blurring the air like heat off pavement. “i’ll be back in fifteen. or maybe two. actually—let’s make it one.”

you gape. “you’re using your limitless to get him ice cream—?”

“and this is why you married me,” he says with a wink, and then—

pop.

he’s gone. air displaced in a puff of cool wind and sparkles.

you sigh. your son leans into you, cheek pressed to your shoulder. you wrap your arms around him gently, brushing your fingers through his hair. still soft from this morning’s brushing. a few crumbs from lunch clinging to the ends.

he tugs your shirt, voice muffled.

“...mama,” he says, “if i cry again, can i eat more scoops?”

you pause.

squint down at him. “that depends. are the tears real?”

he considers. long pause. then, with the gravitas of a stage actor, he pinches his nose and starts fake crying—loud, wobbly sobs that rock his whole body.

and then—pop.

satoru’s back. disheveled, pajama sleeves windblown, glasses askew, and arms cradling an absurdly massive neon plastic tub that smells like every ice cream flavor ever invented. it’s glowing. it might actually be radioactive.

your son stops fake-crying mid-sob.

“…score.”

satoru beams. “for my little emperor of the ming dynasty!”

you all end up piled on the couch, one tangled mass of pajama legs and sticky fingers. strawberry slices forgotten on the counter. your son curled between you both, spoon held like a royal scepter, dribbling rainbow cream down his chin as he proclaims flavor rankings with the gravitas of a judge.

“your majesty,” satoru intones, spoon raised high, “may i present the cookie dough scrolls of diplomacy.”

you roll your eyes fondly, head resting on satoru’s shoulder. “you’re such an idiot.”

he kisses your cheek, smiling.

“uh huh. but i’m your idiot.”

your son silently shoves a spoon in both your mouths.

he’s still sulking. a little. but the betrayal has been soothed by frozen sugar, warmth, and the fact that tomorrow, daddy promised to stage the tang dynasty.

correct subject pending.

a/n : i need to have his babies so bad nobody understands 😔🥀 yes you can't convince me he wouldn't teleport just to get his kids ice cream even if he's wearing ridiculous pajamas <3

[wondersinwaynemanor]

that time when Bruce suggested to his sons to invite Wally, Roy, Conner and Jonathan for dinner in the Manor, he saw how happy his sons were. sure, the table was a bit choaitc as different kinds of energy filled the room, but he didn't mind.

when he saw Dick's radiant smile and Damian's blushing face, and heard Jason's hearty laugh and Tim's soft giggle, he knew he didn't want his sons to be heartbroken ever again.

so he had an idea.

---

when The Justice League ends their meeting at the Watchtower, Batman asks for The Flash, Green Arrow and Superman to stay behind.

Superman: Something wrong, Batman?

Batman narrowed his eyes on the three League members as if he is analyzing them deeply.

Flash, gulps: Um, Bats. I know we've been a Team for years now, but your stare still kinda scares me....

Green Arrow, snorts: Oh dear, old, Spooky. Tell us-

Batman: You do know that I have contingency plans for each of you, right?

Flahs gulps again, Superman nods and Green Arrow rolls his eyes, although they remain silent.

Flash, horrified: Oh no, what did we do wrong? What did I do, Bats?

Superman starts to touch Batman by the shoulder, but Batman steps back.

Batman: They're great, so I know you're raising those kids right.

Batman, walks towards the exit: Because if my sons get hurt, I'm taking the actions to you.

and they finally understood.

Green Arrow: Oh.

Superman, smiles: Aw, don't worry, Batman. My boys are well-raised and behaved. They got it from their mama.

Green Arrow: Spooky, Roy is a father now. He and Jason are taking care of Lian, so they're locked for life. Plus, he knows he doesn't want to get on The Red Hood and Batman's bad sides.

Flash: Wally would never hurt Dick. He's got a crush on him since they were kids.

Batman, pats his utility belt: Contingency plans. Never forget.

he finally leaves the room.

the room is quiet, you can hear a pin drop on the floor even if you're not a super.

Green Arrow, speaks first: Doesn't he just use those plans when we've gone off the rails, or something like that?

Superman: Well, it's his sons' happiness we are talking about here.

Flash, releases a shaky breath: Damn it. I'm calling Wally.

Green Arrow: Oh fu- I barely know where Roy is these days.

Superman, already ahead of the two: See you both!

he's already flying out the room, already concentrating on finding both of his sons.

[theerurishipper]

One thing I appreciate in The Batman (2004) show is the way Dick is always helping people up.

Like, my boy is always helping everyone out. It's such a Dick Grayson thing to do. I love that they put that little detail in there.

[mocking-the-bird]

Hal teaches his son how to run on the water for the first time

[zhelin-thames]

Danny meets JL members #7

[Danny "being the little shit he is" floating around the Watchtower, minding his own business.]

[Martian Manhunter approaches, phasing through a nearby wall.]

Danny: [startles] Dude! Ever heard of knocking? Martian Manhunter: You phase through walls yourself. Danny: Yeah, but I’m the ghost kid. You’re, like… a space ghost.

Martian Manhunter: I am J’onn J’onzz, the last survivor of Mars. Danny: [grins] Sweet. I’m Danny Fenton, the half-survivor of Earth. J’onn: [pauses] That is… unusually dark for a teenager.

[J’onn and Danny comparing abilities]

Danny: Okay, so you can phase through walls, shape-shift, and read minds? J’onn: Correct. Danny: I can phase, fly, shoot ectoplasm, and scream so loud it shatters windows. J’onn: Fascinating. Danny: Wait—can you do that thing where you get really big and scary? J’onn: Do you mean this? [transforms into a massive, monstrous figure] Danny: [wide-eyed] Okay, yeah, that’s terrifying. Teach me.

J’onn: Your abilities seem to stem from ectoplasmic energy. Danny: Uh-huh. And yours come from… Martian vibes? J’onn: [calmly] We call it genetic superiority. Danny: [grinning] Fancy way of saying “alien magic.” Got it.

[Danny tries to prank J’onn]

Danny: [invisible, sneaks up behind J’onn] Boo! J’onn: [doesn’t flinch] Your ectoplasmic signature gave you away. Danny: Dang it! How’d you know? J’onn: [smiling slightly] I could hear you laughing before you phased.

[Martian Manhunter Reads Danny’s Mind (danny let him)]

J’onn: Your thoughts are… chaotic. Danny: Thanks. I try. J’onn: You also appear to be replaying a jingle about snacks in your head. Danny: [grinning] It’s a coping mechanism.

[In the Watchtower Cafeteria]

J’onn: Earth food is… peculiar. Danny: [eating a sandwich] You’re not wrong. So what do you eat? J’onn: Martian plants and thought energy. Danny: Thought energy? That sounds like something a ghost would do. Are you sure you’re not, like, half-ghost too? J’onn: [raises an eyebrow] I am not. Danny: Sure, sure. That’s what I said before I fell into a portal.

[Later, J’onn texting the Justice League Group Chat]

J’onn: The ghost child is… peculiar. The Flash: That’s just Danny. Green Lantern: Did he prank you yet? J’onn: He tried. It was… underwhelming. Danny: [joins chat] I’ll get you next time, Space Dad. J’onn: I am not your “Space Dad.” Danny: [grinning] Too late.

[smilesheartshugs]

One trop I can’t get enough of is Bart being Wally and Dick’s kid from the future. There arnt enough fics for this trope! Should I write some? Probably, but I don’t have the creative juices to write it.

But like I want Wally and Dick to find out Bart is their kid in the most absolute random way possible

Game night: Bart doesn’t think before calling Wally dad after doing something that Bart always saw durning family game nights but he doesn’t notice

Going to get ice cream: “dad you know I always get [insert ice cream flavors here that’s like ten scoops tall with an ungodly amount of toppings and sauces]” leaving Dick confused and just getting what he would normally get Wally. This is how Bart finds out his go to ice cream use to be Wally’s go to

Gotham patrol/ party: Batman notices that impulse move a little bit to much like a bat to be a coincidence. Nightwing is off in his own little bubble so doesn’t notice, Red Robin for some reason just never questions why Impulse would call him and superboy his uncles. (Let face it Tim was running on -4 hours of sleep when Bart called him uncles) and it’s not until years later when there was like a really big holiday party with all of the justice league, titans, and other hero teams and Bart just brings presents labeled for Dad, for Pa, and other family titles instead of anyone’s actual names and that’s how they find out while Bart was under the assumption that they already knew, it’s not like he was hiding it!

To many ideas and not enough writing juice

[welcometogrouchland]

(ID in alt) you guys even fuck w/ the flash on here???