#dc texts

[cassiebird]

[purple-obsidian]

miscommunication (18+, dick grayson x titan reader) wc 2.7-3.1k

⭓ this post contains suggestive themes and is not suitable for minors. reader uses she/her pronouns.

"Shit." You curse under your breath when you see your last two messages failed to send. There's just no signal down here. You sigh, and pocket your phone, mind wandering and trying to predict what mission Dick is taking you on tomorrow night. He usually tells you when its time for full stealth, so you decide you'll show up in civilian clothes. He wants to meet earlier in the evening anyways, so you guess it may be something undercover or staking someone out. You let your mind wander for a bit, before returning your focus to work, watching two men in overalls argue in front of the buildings water heater.

The next day, Dick shows up to your apartment right on time. He pulls up in his electric blue sportscar, sticking out like a sore thumb in this neighborhood. You can't help but grin when you see his car through your living room window. Checking yourself out in your bathroom mirror one last time, you make sure your concealed weapons and headpiece aren't visible, before grabbing your phone, keys, and wallet from your backpack. A sudden knock on the door to your apartment causes your eyebrow raises in suspicion, and you slip your shoes on before answering.

"Dick?" You greet the blue-eyed man standing in your doorway, surprised to see a bouquet of gorgeous white roses in his hands. His hair is styled neatly, and he's clean-shaven, too.

"Hey." He flashes you an excited smile taking in your outfit. "You look great." He comments, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as he looks you up and down, taking in your casual attire.

"Thanks… You didn't have to come up here and get me, though. I was on my way down. Am I under-dressed?" You ask him, noting the button-up shirt and freshly pressed pants he's wearing.

"No, not at all." He extends his arm, presenting you with the roses. "These are for you."

"Oh." Your eyes narrow in confusion, glancing between the roses and his expectant grin. "Thanks… I'm assuming I'll need these later?"

Dick clears his throat and tugs at the collar of his shirt. "Well… I mean… need is a strong word," he replies, chuckling awkwardly, "But you can leave them here, if you like. To enjoy when we get back."

Him saying 'when we get back' makes you think there must be some follow up or additional work to do after you complete your objective.

You grin, and take the flowers from him. "So, does that mean we're pulling an all-nighter?" You turn your back to him and walk towards your kitchen to get a vase for the roses. You just miss the bright pink flush that creeps into Dicks cheeks.

"Uhm… I mean, I didn't want to assume anything, here, but if that's where the evening takes us…” He scratches the back of his neck, and follows to join you in your small but tidy kitchen.

He finds you at your sink, filling a tall jar with water. "Yeah, I got nothing going on tomorrow. We can go all night if we need. I've been in the mood for some action, anyways." You explain casually.

His face grows even more red, suddenly feeling very warm in the shirt he chose to wear. "L-let's just get through dinner first."

---------------//---------------

Your eyes scan the fancy restaurant, taking in the scene, noting all the exits, eyeing the people occupying the tables around you. There's a quiet hum of conversation, laughter, and clinking glasses that fills your ears. You don't notice anything out of the ordinary, but you stay diligent, slightly annoyed that Dick hasn't told you why you're here yet.

A couple to the left of us. Man and woman. Mid-thirties, wedding bands, the woman is on her phone, barely paying attention to her date. We have another couple on our right, two men, could be 50's or 60's, hard to tell. Nice watches. Ordered the salmon…

Dick pokes at his pasta with his fork, a small frown on his lips. He's been acting weird since you got here. But he didn't give you any briefing, which makes you think he must be waiting for someone. He said you would enjoy what he had planned, maybe taking down an old enemy of yours? You wrack your brain, trying to remember the last villain who wronged you.

Dick says your name, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Hm? Yeah?" You ask, looking up at him blankly.

"Are you okay? You don't seem to be enjoying yourself."

The waiter passes by your table, refilling your wine glasses with a polite nod.

"Thanks." You tell him with a brief smile. Your attention returns to Dick, who's blue eyes are trained on your own. "I'm fine, Dick. Honestly? I'm just a little confused about what we're trying to accomplish here. What's our objective?"

"The objective," he sighs, and takes a sip of his wine. "The objective is to enjoy ourselves. Spend quality time together."

You barely hear the words he's saying, thinking instead of how he's already on his second glass of wine. He isn't even fake sipping, like you are. This isn't like him. Dick never drinks while he works, unless he's undercover. But even then he will limit himself, never wanting a mission to go bad because he was inebriated.

"Uh, Dick? Shouldn't we cap if off at one?" You ask, nodding to the glass in his hand. "We need you sharp, don't we?"

His eye's widen a little as he sets his glass down. You find it hard to place the emotions playing across his face. He almost looks offended.

"Sharp… right." He sighs, grabbing his napkin and wiping his mouth, shaking his head a little in disbelief. "You know what? You're something else. I really wanted this to be a chance for us to get better acquainted outside of work. I wanted to get to know you better." He waves down the waiter again, signaling that he's ready for the check. "But it's clear to me now why you even agreed to this."

Now it's your turn to go wide-eyed. "Outside of work? Dick, what are you-"

"I honestly thought you were different. I thought we had chemistry. Real chemistry. Maybe I was wrong. Seems like you're only interested in making sure I can perform later, is that it? An all nighter? You can't even humor me, and enjoy a nice meal together first? You've barely said a word, and you haven't even touched your food."

Realization hits you like a ton of bricks.

Dumb. You are so fucking dumb. This isn't work, this is a date. A real date. No wonder he's dressed so nice. He brought you flowers. Fuck, how could I be so dense?!

"I… Dick, when you texted me yesterday, I thought-"

"Save it." He grumbles, rubbing his temples and avoiding eye contact. "Let’s just get this food to go and forget this ever happened."

You sit up straighter in your seat, and reach across the small table for his hand. "Please, let me explain?"

He looks down at your hand, then narrows his eyes at you. "You're going to tell me I'm wrong?" He challenges.

You aren't used to this. His glare sends chills down your spine. You don't often find yourself at the receiving end of Dick Grayson's anger, but its unsettling every time.

"Y-yes. You're wrong." You curse yourself for stuttering, but your heart is racing now, nervous about how badly this miscommunication could affect your relationship. Your eyes plead with his while your hand rummages around for your phone in your jacket pocket. "I think I misunderstood your texts. Just let me pull them up real quick."

The waiter returns too soon, check in hand. Dick waste's no time laying down a few crisp bills before angrily standing up. "No need. You thought this was just a hookup. I get it. Never mind about getting it to-go. Why don't you stay here, enjoy the rest of your meal alone." He throws down another large bill, slamming it down with his fist right in front of you. "You can take a cab home."

"No! Dick, please!" You stand from your chair, cloth napkin falling to the floor, watching him stalk past you towards the exit of the restaurant, anxiety filling your stomach with dread.

► let him leave.

► follow him.

don’t steal my work. don’t repost it somewhere, upload it to another site, use it to train ai, or claim it as your own.

[fanaticalthings]

Bruce Wayne except he texts like an ominous boomer

wdym you can't tell if he's threatening them?

Based on this post by @mysterycitrus :)

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Bonus:

Happy birthday, Tim 🥰

[bruciemilf]

“Cass should be Batman” “Dick should be Batman” “Jason should be Batman” the real question is: Who tf would wanna be Batman lmaoo

[violent138]

On the role of Alfred, as understood by the JLA:

Robin!Dick: "It's pretty much Alfie that calls all the shots, sets my bed time and Batman's."

----

Red Hood: "It's like a Charlie's angels situation."

----

Red Robin, before going against League orders: "The boss? You mean like, Alfred? No I haven't asked him yet."

----

Spoiler: "You really want to be late for the dinner? Alfred won't be happy."

Bruce: *closes computer* "We'll finish this up some other time."

JLA: *confused*

----

Clark, after Bruce gets severely injured: "Oh God, Alfred’s going to kill me."

Hal: "Relax, what's he even going to do? You're bullet proof."

Clark, groaning and sitting down, head in hands: "That's not going to stop him."

Oliver: "Say the word, and I'll get you on an island not found on any map."

Hal: ???

[dragonpyre]

Red Hood au where Jason has amnesia (thanks to being beaten upside the head before being blown up), but still wants to do his insane revenge plan against Batman. He has no idea why he's beefing with this random ass dude. He just knows he has unresolved daddy issues and pointed it at the most dramatic looking bitch on the East Coast

[tiffycat]

Sir you are pushing 30, you don't get to meow

[superbat-love]

Clark: Bruuuce, would you still like me if I were an alien?

Bruce: You are an alien, Clark. You’re also high on painkillers.

Clark: You’re so meaaan. You don’t see me as human!

Bruce: That’s because you’re not human.

Clark: Now that’s just cruel.

Bruce: [sighs] But you’re also more human than any human I’ve ever met, Clark. You’re better than any of us.

Clark: [sniffling] Thanks. You know that I’d still like you if you’re an alien, right?

Bruce: Hn, that’s good to know, Clark.

Clark: [mumbles Kryptonian endearments]

Bruce: …Clark, would you still like me if I were a bat?

[shyjusticewarrior]

[chamiryokuroi]

Pretty boy Tim real (Batman #147)

[thedevilundercover]

I was thinking (shocking, I know) and I think the bat kids should have a little auction/market amongst themselves but for like stolen clothing

Like every three months they congregate in a fucking walmart parking lot (bc there’s way too much of them) at 3 am and they trade favours and stolen clothing for funsies.

There are some rules though like; It’s a strictly bat kid thing, no one else is allowed and the clothes must be of family members and family adjacents

Jason and Bruce’s clothes are always in demand bc theyre so fucking big.

*ehem* now here is my rendition of what would happen in one of these auction.

Tim: I’ll take the B/P route for a week if you give me your purple sweatshirt

Steph: Nuh uh 2 weeks or nothing

Dick: ✨guess what I got✨

every Bat kid looking at him, knowing what he was going to take out

Batkids, in synch: show us

Dick, pulling out one of Bruce’s oversized sweaters:

The whole group excluding Dick: Ỉ̸̝̱̪̞̃̅̔̂͜͝ ̸̞͑̊w̸̡̱̙̫̱̯̲̅̈́ȃ̴͖͎̠͔͇͊̂̚n̶̡̧̜͉͙̝̜͑̍t̵̺̭͍̪͛̐̈́ͅ ̸̹͓̳̂̓̇i̵̢̪̰̻̤̎̈̓ͅt̵̜̳̝͘

[mitskiismymiddlename]

Art credit @purble-sarah

[ultravhasart]

Presenting Cassandra Cain!

[fanaticalthings]

next thing you're gonna tell me is that the butts match 🙄

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[bruciemilf]

I think it’d be so funny if Bruce just refuses to disclose the existence of Robin to the league. He knows it’d take less than a minute for them to form a wicked mock club against him.

Except he just? Carries Robin around. Under that endless void that is his cape. Clark pinches the stress point between his brows. “Batman, is that a child under your cape?”

“No.”

“Bruce I can HEAR his heartbeat.”

“I think the long exposure to kryptonite partially damaged your brain. There is no child here, Clark.”

“He’s literally drinking Barry’s coffee right now.”

“He’s WHAT-“

[violent138]

During Tim's early days, the principal called Bruce once to report that Tim had a lot of bruises.

Bruce, pretty sure he knows where this is going: "Well there's a reasonable explanation for this--"

Tim, kind of sheepish: "It's from the Bo staff."

Bruce, turning fully on the chair to look at him.

Tim, fidgeting a little: "I've been practicing kind of a lot with it recently."

Bruce, suddenly incredibly proud: "Yes," turns back to the suspicious principal. "He insists on getting into these really niche extra curriculars. For college."

Principal, looking between them: "Bo staff? What is that, exactly?"

Tim: "I can show you if you like? Do you mind?"

The principal shrugs and Tim steps out, returning with a broom.

He does a one handed figure eight spin and wipes the Principal's mug right off the desk, causing it to shatter on the floor.

Tim: "Oh shit."

Bruce, speaking over the principal, standing up: "Excellent, just loosen your grip a little more."

Tim, rolling his eyes: "It's a pretty basic move B, and you know it--"

Bruce, excited that Tim's taken an interest: "Just the beginning, tonight we'll practice some real moves, build your repertoire in defense and offense--"

Tim, grinning: "I'd like that, I've also been working on--"

Principal, clearing her throat: "I think I've seen all I need to see."