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flwrkid14 · 8 months ago

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The Tim Drake Heartthrob Conspiracy

It started as a slow, creeping suspicion. A few throwaway comments here, a couple of odd interactions there. At first, no one thought much of it.

One day, Dick was grabbing coffee near Wayne Enterprises when he overheard two interns chatting in line. “I saw Tim Drake today, and let me tell you, I think I’ve developed a new celebrity crush,” one of them said, giggling.

Dick nearly choked on his iced latte. Tim? Celebrity crush? He shook it off, chalking it up to the occasional corporate crush, nothing out of the ordinary for someone who runs a massive company. But then he heard it again the next week at a Titan’s briefing. Garfield leaned over to him during a meeting, nodding toward Tim across the room.

“Man, Tim’s really come into his own, huh? Guy’s kinda a looker now,” Gar commented.

Dick blinked, then frowned. “Wait, what?”

“Oh, come on, Nightwing,” Gar teased, “you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed! The quiet broody thing is working for him. I bet half of Gotham has a crush on him.”

By the time Dick got back to Gotham, the gears were turning in his head. Did half of Gotham have a crush on Tim?

Then it happened again. This time it was Damian’s turn.

He had been sparring with Jon in the Batcave, when their conversation drifted, as it often did. “You ever think about what it would be like to date someone like Tim?” Jon asked, completely out of the blue.

Damian froze, mid-punch. “What?”

“I mean, he’s smart, right? Responsible, kinda low-key. Would probably make a great boyfriend,” Jon continued, completely oblivious to the growing horror on Damian’s face.

“Grayson and Todd, are enough. I refuse to let another sibling of mine become Gotham’s romantic fascination!” Damian exclaimed later that night at the dinner table. The others laughed, assuming Damian was just being overly dramatic, as usual.

But the seed had been planted.

It didn’t take long for the other Batfamily members to start picking up on the signs.

Steph first noticed when she logged onto a Wayne Enterprises fan forum (because yes, those exist) and saw a thread that was simply titled, “Tim Drake’s Glow-Up Appreciation Post”. The page was filled with comments fawning over him—talking about his “sharp jawline,” his “dark, mysterious aura,” and how “charming” he was during interviews.

Naturally, Steph sent the link to Cass with a laughing emoji. “Look at our boy, growing up into Gotham’s next heartbreaker,” she joked.

But as more and more of these comments popped up in the oddest places, Steph’s joking tone faded. Was Tim really the next heartthrob?

The realization hit Jason last, as most things concerning Tim usually did. He was scrolling through his usual online haunts, browsing forums that discussed Gotham’s vigilantes, when he stumbled on something unusual.

A post titled: Top 10 Reasons Why Red Robin is the Best Looking Vigilante in Gotham.

Jason almost clicked out of it immediately, assuming it was some kind of joke. But no. There were paragraphs. Analysis. Photos that somehow made Tim look like a damn model, even in his ridiculous Red Robin cape.

Jason scrolled through in disbelief, not sure what he was more stunned by: the fact that people were thirsting after Tim, or that someone had gone to this much effort to explain why he was hot.

“That’s it. The internet is officially broken,” Jason muttered to himself, before sending a screenshot to the family group chat with the caption: Since when did Tim become a fashion icon?

The real kicker, though, was Alfred. After weeks of the Batfamily casually throwing around jokes about Tim’s newly discovered “status,” Alfred finally made his observation one morning over breakfast.

“Master Timothy has always had a certain quiet charm about him,” Alfred said as he served coffee, completely unbothered by the ensuing chaos.

Dick, nearly spilling his coffee: “Wait, you knew about this? Why didn’t you say something?”

Alfred raised a brow. “It hardly seemed necessary. I assumed you all were already aware of Master Timothy’s appeal.”

Appeal. Appeal.

Jason was laughing so hard he had to leave the room, while Steph and Cass exchanged glances that said everything: they needed to re-evaluate everything about their little brother.

The whole Batfamily was still coming to terms with it. They joked, they teased, but there was an undeniable shift. When they looked at Tim now, they saw what others had apparently been seeing for years—a quietly confident, strikingly intelligent young man who had somehow grown into one of Gotham’s most eligible bachelors.

Of course, the moment that really sealed the deal came when Tim rode into the Batcave one evening on his Red Bird bike, wearing hastily thrown on stylish outfit—a black leather jacket, perfectly fitted jeans, and a shirt that gave him a casual, yet effortlessly cool look. Running a hand through his still damp hair, a look of mild annoyance on his face.

“Sorry, I’m running late. Got a date.”

For a moment, the Batfamily just stared.

Holy. Shit.

And then, as if on cue, Dick, Steph, Cass, Duke, Jason, and even Damian had the same thought at the same time: Oh my God, Tim Drake is the Batfamily’s biggest heartthrob.

The realization was almost too much to handle.

#tim drake #batfam #tim drake is gothams most eligible bachelor #tim drake is also a huge heartthrob and i think that needs to be addressed more #his date was totally with danny btw #ofc the bats would be the last ones to realize how saught after tim is

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intheupside · 4 months ago

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The game has been Crosby’s professional life. It’s who he is and what he talks about. Hockey is his everything. And it’s what matters most to him.

Once or twice a season, when Ray Shero was general manager of the Penguins, he would invite Crosby to his office for a brief meeting that was never brief. “Usually it was about four-hours long. I’d say to Sid, ‘What’s on your mind?’ And he’d say ‘Not much.’ And then we’d talk hockey for hours, usually all afternoon.

“Detailed talk about the game, the team, getting better, training, he has such an active mind. He’s always thinking about everything. He asks good questions. He wants good answers. And often the last thing he thought about — which tells you a lot about Sid — is money.

“One time, just after he signed his second contract in Pittsburgh, I took out a calculator in our meeting. I told him the season was 180-some days long and players got paid by the day. I then calculated how much money he was going to be getting paid each day.

“I slid him the calculator and he said, ‘What?’

“I told him that’s what you’re going to be paid every day.

“He said ‘You’re kidding, right?’

“I said no, that’s the number.

“He just stared at it and said ‘Holy cow. I guess I shouldn’t skip any optional practices.’

“That’s Sid being Sid. It was never about money with him. He’s left a lot of money on the table over the years. But when he saw how much he was making in his first big contract, how much per day, it shocked him. He’d never looked at it that way before.”

When Jimmy Rutherford took over as GM of the Penguins, he made it a point to meet with Crosby almost immediately. “I flew to Pittsburgh to have dinner with him and from the time you shake his hand, and you listen to all his input and all his knowledge, you just walk away and say ‘Wow.’ He’s more special in person than you might have thought he was before you got to meet him.”

“They play their best in the biggest moments,” said Ken Holland. “You saw that with Steph Curry at the Olympics last summer. Ultimately, no matter what the circumstance, Sid drove people to greater heights. It’s not just how they play, it’s how people follow them and jump aboard.”

“How committed are they? How much drive do they have? How motivated are they? How singularly driven are they? It’s not an accident that he scored the Golden Goal. That’s what winners do. And he’s one of the greatest winners of all time.

“Everybody loves Sid. He treats people well. He hangs out with everybody and he’s one of the guys. And the respect level for him, and for the game, is through the roof. When you’re around him you see he’s just a regular person but an extraordinary player.”

Kyle Dubas is in his second season with Crosby in Pittsburgh. Like everyone else who has been around Crosby over the years, he has been taken aback by the dedication he has to practice. “He works daily on the mastery of his craft,” said Dubas. “And he takes nothing for granted.”

But what has impressed Dubas the most is the way in which Crosby interacts with his teammates on a team struggling to find its way.

“Recently, we were in Anaheim and we have a rookie defenceman, Owen Pickering, who was struggling. Sid is purposely hard on Owen in practice, competing full out against him, not maliciously, just showing the kid how hard he’s going to have to work to compete with him. Sid’s mindset is, I have to do this. If he’s going to get better, I have to do this. The kid got a little frustrated by the practice and you could see it was hard on him. He wasn’t feeling good about himself. The next day, Sid goes and gets the kid and takes him for a haircut. It’s a little gesture but on a team looking to build, it’s an important one. That’s the kind of thing Sid does on a daily basis. The kind of thing most people won’t notice.”

Five years ago, during COVID, the Penguins were upset by Montreal in the preliminary round of the playoffs. The disappointed team flew home from Toronto, where games were being played at Scotiabank Arena without fans.

The team scattered, as teams tend to scatter at the end of every season. Crosby didn’t scatter. He went from the airport to the arena. He wasn’t happy with how the season ended.

He got on the ice and practiced alone that afternoon. That was Sid being Sid.

a good day to have fond feelings about sid

#pittsburgh penguins #sidney crosby #owen pickering

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demonic0angel · 2 months ago

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Maybe...Dany/Cass meet-cute?

Or, if you're ok with that maybe even Danny/Cass/Steph meet-cute?

Either way, regardless of ship, I'm picturing Danny, somewhere between 23-38 years old, being a single dad to a hyper and excitable tiny Ellie, who likes to hold his hand and drag him with her to whatever special interest catches her attention at the moment.

And that's where they meet Cass, who gets to watch as a man gets dragged to all the "girl stuff" stores by his kid, and instead of refusing, kr acting embarrassed, Danny just sighs fondly, and indulges his little girl in her insistence to see him with nails painted like hers.

Maybe they bump into Cass on the way out of the latest store, and when Cass swings by their place later on to ensure they're safe, Ellie comes running to open the window Cass was perched under, and comes to greet her.

And Cass would've liked to adopt the little tyke like Bruce did her, but if she can also snag herself the Dad, she'll be even happier.

Maybe, if you're ok with Danny/Cass/Steph (my little multi shipper heart adores these thre gremlins together) , Cass and Ellie vibe while Ellie tells her about her day, and Steph is the one who's shamelessly flirting with Danny? (Danny could do with having the classic DILF build, so steph can much more accurately call him that and watch him combust and stutter)

(Sorry if this makes little sense, it's 4 a.m and the insomny hit hard tonight 😅)

Steph whistled lowly. "Hottie alert. Ooh, he has a daughter! How cute!" She was quickly distracted by the sight of the small child wandering around under her father's watchful gaze.

"No ring," Cass said, observing the man before looking back at the small child that was toddling around.

Steph looked back at the man and pumped a fist. "Hell yeah. More daddy issues, here we come! Should we go talk to him?"

Cass snorted. "Maybe later." Both of them were in the park, bored after getting a random free day for the first time in a long time. They were sitting together, people watching and particularly focused on the father-daughter pair, one who was cute and the other who was hot.

"Don't go too far, Dani!" The man called. "I'll be sitting here!"

"Okay!" Was the very adorable reply. Steph squealed and slapped Cass' shoulder, who sighed at her girlfriend's excitement.

The small child was happily kicking at rocks on the ground when something in the distance began running towards her. Her father didn't seem to notice yet, looting through a bag for something.

Steph and Cass immediately stood up from the bench when they saw that it was an unleashed dog speeding towards the child. Its face was set in a snarl and it seemed determined to get to its target. Dani, the child, started shrieking when she finally noticed it.

Both girls instantly swooped in. Steph picked up Dani, jumping back as Cass swiftly grabbed hold on the dog's collar, yanking it back. It gave a yelp and writhed from the chokehold.

Cass let it go and glared down at it as it whimpered and whined.

"Dani!" The man screamed before running over. Steph didn't notice, distracted by the shaking child in her hands and the dog's owner, who came running towards them with a furious expression.

"How dare you! I'll call the police on you! Don't touch my dog, you—" the woman shrieked.

"Actually!" Steph snarled, as Cass came back to stand by her side. Steph handed Dani to her without a second thought and stepped in front of them. "We should call the police on you! It's against the law to let your dog run unleashed in public spaces in Gotham. And your dog almost attacked a kid!"

They argued some more but Steph was eventually able to drive her off without any recuperations. Steph clicked her tongue irritably. "What a jerk!" Steph sniffed.

Cass nodded, still holding Dani.

"Uhh."

They both turned to the father, who was standing there with a vaguely amused expression, an eyebrow raised. He lifted his hands. "Can I have my child back?"

Both Steph and Cass looked at Dani, who was contentedly sitting in the latter's arms without a single care, and started. "Oh my gosh! We're so sorry!"

Cass gingerly but quickly handed over Dani to her father. Thankfully, he was very agreeable because he just laughed before hugging his daughter tightly. He gave both Cass and Steph a grateful smile.

"Thank you so much for helping me and saving my daughter. Err, could I buy you two dinner? As thanks?" He gave a friendly and obliviously charming smile.

Cass opened her mouth to refuse out of principle and Steph immediately grabbed her arm and interrupted her, "Yes! Absolutely!"

The man beamed. "My name's Danny. This is Dani, with an I. I didn't name her, by the way, if you're asking."

Steph laughed and held on even tighter to Cass, both eying him with heavy gazes. "I'm Steph and this is Cass. I think we're going to get along swimmingly, Danny."

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clownzaf · 6 months ago

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I know that people love to headcanon Tim as a child of Athena, I personally like to headcanon him as child of Hades due to his similarities with Nico and the fact that dead seems to follow that kid like a motherfucker but never actually reach HIM.

But hear me out.

Tim as a child of Dionysus. And he gets claimed during the Bruce-quest.

When he was in Gotham monsters were a usual thing. You never knew that they were there for your godly blood, you just thought that they were things created by pollution or something like that. And when he became Robin fighting things that wanted to kill you while saying weird things was more usual than a hug (not that that was a hug standard for Tim).

But then everyone started dying. His parents, Kon, Bart, Steph, BRUCE. Everyone. Every. One.

And Tim…Tim couldn’t seem to reach madness. I mean YEAH he wasn’t doing great by any standard, but he knew madness, he grew up in madness, and he wasn’t going mad.

The cloning was just a treat.

And during the Bruce-quest, everyone thought he was crazy, he was casted away because everyone thought he was crazy CRAZY Tim can’t he crazy! He knows that! He knows that in his blood that going crazy isn’t a chance for him. He made everyone crazy when they were around him (hence Jason. He knew that Jason was mad at him from the start, but going near Tim lighted a flame inside him that Tim is sure isn’t completely Jason’s) but Tim couldn’t go crazy. He could ACT crazy. But never too serious.

And then, in the depths of Greece, he met his dad. His real dad.

He always knew that Jake wasn’t his dad. The blonde hair his mother forced him to dye since he was 5 and the purple eyes his father forced him to hide with contacts told him that. But Tim grew up looking up at Jack, even if Jack didn’t love him, he was the dad that decided to (figuratively) stay. And Tim loved him till death.

But when that man appeared, Tim knew, with only a moment of stares, that that man was his father. They talked a bit, too. The man knew about everything Tim was doing, and that creeped Tim out, but when the man made appear a glass of wine for Tim (and one side for himself) and Tim drank it, he knew what he was.

Something on the flavor, on the feeling. It was Tim. It was home. Something he hadn’t feel in a long time.

He spent the rest of the quest feeling sure that he would make it, because somewhere on the heavens his dad was looking out for him, he promised he was. And this time it wasn’t a figuratively sentimental bullshit. His dad was really helping on the heavens. And Tim was gonna make it.

He saw him again when the quest ended. He appeared in all of his godly glory while Tim was living in the nest. He opened a can of soda and sat on his couch like he wasn’t a man Tim has only met twice, but that was ok, because that was his dad, and he was choosing to visit him. (Also, he wasn’t going to say no to a literal GOD) .

He yapped for two hours about the kids at the camp his dad forced him to work at ( “HE IS SUCH AN A-HOLE SOMETIMES TIM YOU DONT UNDERSTAND-“) and the more he talked about that camp, the more invested Tim got. At the end of it the man, his dad, just looked at him in the eye and said “y’know if you were there we could do this more often. Yer a better listener than that centaur. Also, I think your brothers would like having you there”

He leaves immediately for camp after that. The family thinks Tim decided to leave them for not believing in him, so it’s a shock when he comes back after the summer being great with a sword and with a Tan his skin haven’t known before, not even after fighting crime during the hottest days on San Francisco, and he was happy, like actually happy. A kind of happy he never was with them.

Tim made friends there. He was friends with Annabeth, a girl from the Athena cabin, who honestly thought that Tim was one of them after they had a talk about strategies on the field and all that, and was about to fist fight Dionysus for claiming one of her brothers. She still called him brother, but now she understood that Tim was a Dionysus kid. And her boyfriend Percy. They talked all night about the weight of being a leader and having your people die without you being able to do anything. Percy talked about a boy named Ethan and two girls named Zoe and Bianca. Tim talked about Steph, Kon and Bart.

Tim told him about the Bruce-quest, and Percy told him about the time he was ready to fist fight a good to get his mother back from the underworld.

He also fully loved his brother. Pollux was great and made him feel welcomed to camp. They talked during lunch and Pollux showed him every single thing that made camp especial. He also teached him how to make fun of their dad without turning into a dolphin, so yeah. They got along like a house on fire.

He also made friends with a girl from the Aphrodite cabin. Her name is Drew. She was kind of an asshole and tried flirting with him, and THEY DID GET TOGETHER FOR A BIT, but after some time they decided they were better as friends. And friends they were. Best friend even.

He never told the Batfam any of this.

So after some months in Gotham there’s a cult going around calling themselves “Children of Dionysus” and doing atrocious things.

Duke walked in on Tim trashing the training room of the cave, and later on Jason walked in on Tim having his fourth bottle of wine.

Tim was FURIOUS. Not only that was disrespectful to his dad, but to his brother and himself too. He was going to pick every part of that little cult and trash it.

There he meets Bernard. Then they get on a relationship.

When a sathyr comes to take Bernard to camp Tim goes with him, excited to have his dad meeting his boyfriend.

Dionysus has never been more uncomfortable than when he had to claim his son’s boyfriend in front of him. It wasn’t that hard before! But now they had those things against incest on the human world and he knew this wouldn’t be pleasant to any of his sons.

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fanfics-i-find-here · 3 months ago

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Do I Know You? Part 15

Synopsis: You’re angry at Red Hood, not Jason.

Notes: so, this got really angsty at the end. I don’t know what happened. I knew ya’ll where so excited to have our boy back, and everything with Jason is fine, but Red hood… it's rough. Anyway, I guess, enjoy?

Masterlist

When you woke from your nap, you did a mild pick-up of your apartment (not really, just moved things around so it looked more organized), then you sat on your couch to watch TV. You hated it. Your mind would lose focus and wander to other things, things you didn’t want to think about. It led to you staring at your hands far too many times, picturing blood that was no longer there.

You noticed that your knuckles were dried out, cracking a little. It was odd. In the three years you’d lived in Gotham, you never had an issue with dry skin, considering it was an island on water. You rub at the chapped skin and realize you’ve been overwashing your hands without thinking about it. Neither the girls nor Jason had mentioned it, although with how you keep your apartment, you imagine they didn’t think anything of it. You were having a serious Macbeth moment that worried you, but what else could you do?

At the usual designated time slot, you unlocked your window and waited. And waited. And waited. Nearly three o'clock in the morning, you startle awake on your couch. You practically jump over to the window, having heard a noise on the fire escape, but you find nothing more than one of the neighbor's cat on the fire escape. It blinks at you before scampering up the stairs on the escape. You sigh and accept that he isn’t coming tonight.

The upset that had simmered over the past few days returns. You collect his jacket from where it hangs by your door and march to your window. You shove it open, shivering from the cold air, and toss the jacket onto the escape. There was no reason for you to hold onto it. If he wanted it, he could come and get it because obviously, he didn’t want to talk to you, so you didn’t want to talk to him.

You went to bed upset and tossed and turned for the rest of the early morning. By seven o'clock, you gave up on the idea of sleeping. You paced around your apartment before you came to an understanding with yourself. Cass and Steph were right, you couldn’t stay at home forever. That, and you really needed a distraction, even if it was only for four hours.

****

Jason had been worried on patrol all night. Steph and Cass had reported to him that overall, you seemed okay, if not a little overwhelmed in crowded places. He was shocked when they said they had taken you shopping, surprised you willingly left your apartment. He was mostly happy to know that you were on the up-and-up of your traumatic experience much faster than he would’ve thought. Or at least a little bit. They had told him that while you hadn’t rushed them out the door, there was a certain relief on your features as they were leaving, no doubt about finally having an evening for yourself after constantly having people around.

It’s the reason he didn’t show up that evening, at least that you saw. He had stopped by in his old way, across the street on the roof, around one in the morning. He could see your TV running and spotted the lump that was you asleep on the couch. White noise, he assumed. The TV would be better than silence. He didn’t even check the window, just threw a longing glance at your apartment before moving on his patrol, you constantly in the back of his mind. You clearly needed the time alone, which is why he was surprised when he received a text from you about mid-morning.

You: I’m going to work today walk me home?

He didn’t even respond; just picked up the phone and called you. You answered immediately.

“I only tease you about technology, I know you know how to respond to a text.” Is the first thing you say. Jason can feel the tension leave his shoulders just at the sound of your voice. He shakes his head and refocuses.

“Sweetheart,” had he paused, he would have heard the audible pleased sigh that escaped your lips at the name, “are you sure you're ready to go back to work?”

“I don’t really have a choice. I already called Jackie and told her I would come to work half a shift.” You're clearly making up a reason not to back out, dependable.

“I’ll call back and tell them you changed your mind.” He states, not wanting you to force yourself into it.

“Worry not, I haven’t changed my mind.” You tease. The lilt of your voice when you get like this was something Jason hadn’t realized he missed. You were doing better if your attitude was anything to show for it. After a moment of silence, Jason caught up in the sound of you getting ready for work, you repeat the question you had texted.

“Will you come walk me home?” He answers quickly, easily, despite how tired he was from his night of patrol and bad sleep (worrying about you).

“Course. What time do you get off?” There’s a clatter on the other end of the line (a surprised drop from how quickly he answered), and he’s about to ask if everything is okay, but you respond, rushed, about when you get off.

“And what time do you go in? I can walk you to work, too.” He offers. He hears you suck in a stuttered breath all movement stopping.

“It’s okay, Jay. Daylight hours, I’ll be fine.” You reassure him. Jason wouldn’t admit it aloud, but his stomach fluttered at the way you said Jay. You had never called him that before and even though it was just a shortened version of his name, you said it so sickly sweet that it got to him.

“Alright,” He concedes only because he knows you might berate him if he asked if you were sure about it. He manages to keep you on the phone until you're nearly to work, idle silence mostly filling the space between you two. He enjoyed learning that you talk to yourself sometimes as you get ready, and you will share whatever you see with him as you walk, a dog, some trash on the street, or a motorcycle that made you think of him. You had rushed a goodbye to him just as you opened the door to Jackie’s. He eyed the time. Four hours to waste.

Jason only lasted three hours before he showed up at Jackie’s. He parked his bike in its usual spot in front of your building and tried to take his time walking. It didn’t work. You were walking by with a plated muffin as he opened the door. Your eyes lit up when you saw him, and you greeted him happily.

“Jason!” You held the plate away from your body as you leaned towards him, and without thinking, he pressed a kiss to your temple, hand on your shoulder to steady you. When he pulls back to really look at you, he finds your under-eyes puffy and your eyes red, like you’d been crying. He’s about to ask you about it, but you were off to drop the muffin. He hesitates at the door, wondering if he should sit or wait for you to come back. You stop at the table and start talking to the customers. He takes that as his cue to sit down.

He brought his book like always, considering he was early anyway. He reads, periodically glancing up like you'll materialize right in front of him. He becomes focused on his book when you appear. You set his designated drink on the table and sit down in the booth next to him, sliding until your touching, thighs and shoulders pressed. You sag against the seat, and he nearly does the same. He turns his head to look at you, an odd angle, but he doesn’t want to pull away. Your hand wiggles where your thighs meet, and without a second thought, his fingers curl around yours.

“Hi.” Your voice is drained, but you look happy as you settle your chin on his shoulder to meet his eye.

“Hi,” he replies, and before he can ask you his question, you answer.

“I’m okay,” you say with a grin.

“Then why do you look like you’ve been crying?” He brings his free hand to press at your cheek, thumb rubbing at the delicate skin under your eye. Your eyes flutter, and you pull your face off his shoulder and out of his hand.

“Darla brought her granddaughter in.” Your eyes start to water again. “She was so cute and just so small,” your hand leaves his to show him, “Her little head fit in my hands.”

Jason nearly laughs at you for crying about a baby, but the way you pout at him makes him stop. He pats your thigh as a means to comfort you.

“Okay, but you seemed high-spirited when I came in,” he says. You roll your eyes and bring your hand up to swipe at a tear.

“Because Darla brought her granddaughter in,” you say it like it’s obvious, like he’s just being silly for asking the question. He gives you a look, and you shake your head.

“Between Darla and baby Claire, the girls, and you, it was a good reminder that life is long and not just the now. Not everything is bad, there’s still good in the world.” You add, picking at your cuticles. Jason understands now, maybe a little too much. He had spent a year trying to take over Gotham and get back at Bruce. A year with nothing good shining through the darkness. Focusing just on the bad will do that. You seem more even-balanced than he ever was. A silence settles between you two, it's not awkward, though. You stop picking at your hands and settle your head on his shoulder.

“I think I'm tired, too,” you murmur. “It’s making me a little sensitive, I think.” The silence returns, your hands threaded with Jason’s again, and he almost thinks you’ve fallen asleep until the door dings, and you’re up and out of the booth and in record time.

The next hour is spent easily. You’d return and sit for a little while and then leave to attend customers before coming back again. At the end of the work hours, you slide next to him, now apronless. You settle against his shoulder again, reading the book with him. At the end of the chapter, he closes the book and looks at you.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you answer, sliding out of the booth and working to zip up your jacket. It's a new one, Jason thinks, having never seen it on you before.

“New Jacket?” Your hands stutter your movement at the question.

“I lost my other one, had to drag this one out of storage.” You mumble. Jason thinks for a moment, trying to figure out where you would have lost your jacket. He had seen you wearing it about a week ago before he remembers. When Red Hood pulled you out of the warehouse, he had given you his leather jacket because you didn’t have one. If you had been walking home, you would have been wearing one, which means it's either still in that warehouse or in a police evidence locker. Jason felt guilty for a moment, like he should have gotten you a new one so you didn’t have to drag one out for storage. One that had clearly seen better days based on the melted hole on the sleeve near your wrist.

You don’t give him time to question or offer because you're already headed for the door. He’s quick to rush ahead of you to open the door. You give him a smile with a scrunched nose like you might tease, but you keep your mouth shut. Once out the door and walking down the street, your gloved hand slips into his pocket where his hand was. Fingers curl together in the warmth of the pocket, and Jason has never been happier.

If he was completely honest, the almost two days away from you were ridiculously hard. You were like a drug to him, and his withdrawal made him antsy, waiting to see you again. Enough so that Damian had pointed it out while they were taking down an arms deal. Damian, who is so much like his father when it comes down to the mission. Jason had denied anything, but Damian had just given him a deadpan look that reminded Jason of when Damian was a baby in the league. He pulled himself together for the rest of the patrol.

Walking with you is much like walking with you on the phone, idle silence, and pointing at things of interest. The walk was slow, even though you looked tired and no doubt ready to be home. Once you reached your apartment building, Jason realized why.

“Thank you for walking me home, Jason.” Your touch slips from his, and you sway on your feet, unsure. You were really tired, exhausted even. It irked you that you only worked four hours and felt like you did a double shift. It probably didn’t help that you had practically bawled your eyes out when Darla brought in her granddaughter, a reminder of where life had started, how far you’ve come, and how far you have yet to go. She had shaken her head at you and let you hold the little girl longer than necessary.

Being so tired, you just wanted to sleep, but you didn’t want Jason to leave. During the time the girls were with you, beyond curiosity, you hadn’t really thought about him, but the moment they were gone was a whole other story. Without distraction, you had become conscious of a Jason-shaped gap in your chest.

You knew you liked Jason, that wasn’t news to you, but this was different. It was a tender, nearly guilty feeling. You felt like, perhaps, he was just indulging you and your affections in the last week because you had been through something traumatic. It's why you were not inviting him up to your apartment (and subsequently into your bed). You wanted to, desperately, having already come to terms with the fact that you sleep better next to him. But you can’t do it, not if he’s just gentle and sweet on you because that’s what you need right now.

He stares at you, and you shift on your feet. You feel like your old way of things are filtering back in. He turns without a word to his bike, same spot as always, and you think he’s going to leave without saying anything until he turns back to you. He holds a rectangular box, only a little bigger than your hand. He holds it out to you expectantly, a slight pink on his cheeks. He speaks as you take it and open it.

“I’m always more than willing to walk you to and from work, but if you're insistent about guilt-tripping yourself out of asking me, at least you’ll be able to protect yourself.” You glance up to glare at him for the guilt trip comment, but it falters when you see his knowing look. Inside the box is an unassuming smaller black box with grip grooves on the side. It kind of reminds you of an old Nokia phone. You pick it up and turn it over in your hand, confused.

“It’s a taser,” Jason says, your whole hand hold changes to two fingers holding it away from you. Jason laughs.

“It’s not a gun, sweetheart,” he takes it from you and edges into your space to show you how to use it. A button on the side to start the electricity startling you and he explains where to aim if someone grabs you and then he’s handing it back to you.

“And it’ll fit in your bag.” He adds like he’s trying to sell it to you. You glance at the said bag, then at the taser, then at him. He seems a little flustered, and it makes you grin; the tender, less guilty version of your feelings works its way across your body.

“Thank you, Jay,” his flush deepens slightly in a way that makes you want to tease him just to see how dark the red would get (or perhaps to see how low it would go), but you reel yourself in. You do stand on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek that he seems pleased about. He nods and pulls back to get his helmet.

“See you later?”

“yea”

He climbs onto his bike, and you take an appreciative glance, having forgotten how good he looked on his bike. He waves at you, and you return the gesture before he’s gone. You sigh as you climb the stairs into your building. You were in deep with this boy, and you had no idea what to do with it.

****

You did manage to take a nap, longer than you expected. Long enough to keep you awake in the middle of the night, which you had not planned. You’re sat at your island, sipping a warm lemon water trying to lull yourself to sleep when you hear the creak of the fire escape. Your whole body freezes. You know it’s Red Hood this time, the noise more obvious. You don’t know why you thought the cat yesterday was him. You hear a knock on the window.

You don’t move from your spot, instead taking another sip of your water, back still facing the window. You wait for him to leave. You had left his jacket out there the night before. There was nothing else he needed here.

He knocks, and you feel your upset and anger flare again. Why can't he just leave you alone? Can't he tell you don’t want to talk to him? You hear the squeak of your locked window opening, a cold breeze drifting in, and then the window closing. You finally turn to glare at him.

“What the hell are you doing?”

The jacket you had left outside is already draped on the back of a chair at the dining table. His helmet is off but still in his hands. You wish he had kept the helmet. His normal, hard-set features are that of a kicked puppy. Thank god his eyes were covered because if they weren’t, you would probably have folded at the sight of them. He suddenly seems hesitant, frozen mid-motion, to set his helmet down.

“What?” his voice is quieter than you think you have ever heard. Your chest aches. You missed him in the past four days, but you wouldn’t let that deter you. You were angry and rightfully so; he got you kidnapped.

“I said, ‘What the hell are you doing?’ I left your jacket outside and locked the window so you wouldn’t come in.” You regret the way you're speaking to him. This isn’t like you, but your outrage oversteps your regret.

“I just wanted to check on you,” he says, slowly setting his helmet on the dining table. You glare at the harsh red metal.

“I’m fine. Get out.” You say flatly. This was hurting you more than you’d like to admit. Red Hood was a friend, a good friend, but his presence led to the disaster that was that night in the warehouse. You got kidnapped because of him, and he didn’t even save you; you saved yourself, and you weren’t proud of it.

“It’s okay if you’re not. You killed someone. That’s not something you just get over.” He says. It wasn’t lost on Jason the fact that you hadn’t told anyone what happened with Ted Jackson. He had talked to Cass and Steph about it and had a long conversation with Bruce in Cave about it that Barbara had inserted herself into regarding what she knew from her father, unofficially, of course.

He takes a step forward, and you take a stunned half-step back. You press yourself against the island, despite him being nowhere near you. Your hands curl around the counter edge, and Jason can see your nails digging underneath. This had been what he’d been worried about. Every time he had badged you about how you were doing as Jason was him, trying to goad you into talking about this. He had worried that you had locked it away in your mind as something to deal with later, but he had already seen spurts of it leak into the way you reacted to things. Despite being hopeful that you would talk to Red Hood about it because he already knew, Jason is sorely disappointed when you just repeat your words.

“Get. Out.” Your words are hard, but your voice shakes as you speak them: “I want you to leave and never come back.” Your eyes are watery, but the rest of your features are set harshly. He’s surprised by it. He didn’t think you could look so…cold.

“Sweetheart,” he offers the name softly, trying to coax you into talking, but you cut him off, voice louder than before.

“You don’t get to call me that.” You point an accusatory finger at him, “You don’t get it. I want you out of my apartment, and I want you out of my life.” There’s a light streak of tears slowly moving down your cheek. Jason doesn’t like the way this conversation feels; his heart hurts in the way you speak to him, especially after knowing the blissful touch of your affection. He has to remind himself that you're talking to Red Hood, not to Jason.

“Listen-” He tries again, but now you’re wound up.

“No, you listen! A man is dead, and it’s all your fault his blood is on my hands.” You present your palms like the blood was still there. “I don’t want you here.” Your words are harsh as you yell, despite the tears streaming down your cheeks. Jason feels suddenly inept that he can't comfort you, can’t press into your space, and wipe away your tears. All he can do is stand there and watch you.

You were right, He thought to himself. If he had been quicker, gotten to you faster, saved you like the alleged hero he was, you wouldn’t have to be dealing with this. Regardless of his years of training, he hadn’t saved you. Sure, you were alive, but you had taken a life. Something you never should have had to do. And while he was proud of you at the time (part of him was still proud of you for it, but that was his secret), he’s upset with himself for even letting it happen.

“Okay,” he resigns as he digs a hand into his pocket, “but before I leave, I have something for you.”

“I don’t want anything from you.” Your voice is weak and choked, and he hates it. He pulls out the locket necklace he had Barbara make for you, and he presents it, holding it by the chain.

“Jewelry won't fix any of this.” You sniffle. He sighs at your comment. He wants to step closer to you, to hand it directly to you, but he won't. He pops open the locket to show you the button inside.

“It's an emergency alert,” he meets your reddened eyes, “you were taken, and I couldn’t find you fast enough. If something happens, press this button and someone,” he doesn’t offer himself, “will come find you and help you, one of the bats. We’ll all get an alert that you're in trouble.”

He places it on the table and picks up his helmet, sliding it on, pulling on his jacket. You haven’t said anything else, only staring at the gold locket.

“Wear it, please. If not for my peace of mind, then for yours. I’m sorry… for everything.” You still don’t say anything. He takes that as his cue to leave. Out the window and down the street, he doesn’t even wait on the roof to watch you lock the window.

He was genuinely hurt, if not a little surprised by how the evening went. He had planned to talk to you about what happened, to help you deal with it all, to give you someone to talk to. He hadn’t expected you to blow up at him like that, hadn’t realized how good you were at hiding your inner turmoil from the people around you. He understands, he thinks, why you are upset.

However, it just made his plans that much harder. He wanted to tell you about being Red Hood. Not yet, but eventually. But if you hate Red Hood, carrying a disdain for him, what would happen if he did tell you the truth? He had told himself before that if you hated him for Red Hood or his feelings, then that would be fine, but now, seeing the blank glare you had given him the entire time. He doesn’t think he could do it. It might actually kill him if you looked at Red Hood and Jason like that. Maybe it just won’t ever come out. Maybe he could hide it forever, right? That will work out just fine, he decides

****

The moment you see his figure disappear from the fire escape, you break down sobbing. You collapse on the floor and curl in on yourself. You hate this, you hate this. This ugly, complicated feeling, you hate it so much. Why? Why did you have to feel like this? You thought everything was fine, that you were over it, that you were dealing. It’s okay if you’re not. Both Jason and Red Hood had said something along those lines. Your stupid Jar rattles, and you wish it was real so you could chuck it at a wall.

As much as you hated the way you were feeling, you hated yourself more for how you spoke to him, hated the way you just let the words slip out. Words spoken in anger were the ones most regretted. You didn’t want him to leave your life forever. You wanted him to come back, to be there for you. Even if it was just to judge your cooking skills and tease you about your pickiness.

He was your friend, and you didn’t have a lot of those. Of course, you chased him off, letting your fear of loss hide under a shield of anger. You can't let a good thing last. Better to make it bad before it’s gone.

You sat on the floor, having your own personal pity party for longer than you're proud of. By the time you stood up, your hips ached from sitting on the hardwood floor. You throw a longing glance at the locket but don’t pick it up or go near it. You drag yourself into your bed and curl into a ball. You feel cold, sad, and ashamed. Ashamed for yelling and letting your emotions get out of hand. You cry yourself to sleep, wishing you could take everything back.

Additional Notes: I am so sorry about that ending. That was so rough. Anyways, next week is a filler chapter with Jason. Yay for complicated feelings. Thank you for reading. Let me know what you guys thought! <3 <3

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369, @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel, @feyres-fireheart, @penguimlover23, @herodedicatedblog, @dearghostling, @automaticplant

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #do i know you?#kandywrites #fanfics-i-find-here

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thewitchblue · 6 months ago

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Cass found you healing. There was something about you that healed a part of her that nobody else ever could. Maybe it was her mummy issues, or maybe it was genuinely your loving personality; either way, it didn't matter. You were soothing and patient with her. You even taught her how to speak, read, and write.

She came to the startling realisation she loved you at her family Christmas gathering. You weren't just a friend. You had stopped being a friend in her mind long ago, but she never addressed those feelings. It was safer to keep it all bottled up. She would come back to it another day, like rejecting a phone update until it finally automatically updates. She'll deal with it eventually.

Well, eventually happened.

It started when Steph and Babs both made a joke about the two of you being a lesbian couple. Cass and you both froze in place. Neither of you knew what to do, but your gay panic barrelled through you like a gun to your head.

You had quickly signed something Cass couldn't catch to Steph, who paled and also began to slightly panic. What started as an innocent joke suddenly became a massive plot twist between the two.

Steph. Was. Mortified. She would later brag she is the reason you two got together and that she saw it all along (falsely, as well), but that moment had her horrified. She did not anticipate that she would ever have to deal with this being a possibility. Girls are always close. Why would you two be any different?

She had to wheel Babs far, far away, and have a panicked conversation, which Helena joined in as well with wide eyes.

Barbara was on the gay train immediately and was coming up with plans and bouncing ideas off of the other girls. What do they do? Does Cass know? Is Cass gay? Their heads were spinning. She hadn't considered that any of them could be gay. Well, except Tim, but his relationship with Kon has been so well-established that they don't feel like a gay couple anymore.

Helena "what do you mean she's gay" Wayne was floored. Now she was invested. She needed to study you both before deciding if this was an actual thing yet or not.

The girls all watched you two carefully. Tim joined in quickly as he understood and also became invested. He dragged Kon into it, too, but told him to let the detectives work after Kon complained and told them to leave you two alone.

You tried to act oblivious to their obvious growing group staring you both down. Not cool, Steph.

You glared at Steph, who looked away but looked back again once your gaze was back on Cass. Your gaze softened as you looked at Cass. Your sweet, beautiful, best friend. You'd give anything for her.

Cass was incredibly confused, but she was happy. She wanted to cuddle on the coach, and you laughed your agreement. This was the moment she knew she had feelings for you: cuddling on the coach, watching a terrible Christmas movie, and having hushed conversations with you. You both had content smiles on your faces.

She had blushed hard when you kissed her forehead, but she looked at you like Cupid just hit her with an arrow, and you looked at her like she held your heart in her hands.

The girls (plus Tim and an uninterested Kon) needed to strike. How? Mistletoe? There was no guarantee you wouldn't cop-out and kiss her cheek. They didn't know. They asked Tim how he managed to date Kon, and he shrugged,

"I decided we're dating one day, and then we started dating. I suspect M'gann did something, but I don't know."

Kon shook his head, but he didn't know either, so he let Tim's explanation go by without comment. Tim gave a thoughtful expression. He didn't know what they should do. Kon said plainly,

"We could tell Jason to force them to kiss."

Jason narrowed his eyes at the group. He heard his name amongst the growing group of siblings despite being on the other side of the room.

"What are you idiots scheming?"

He actively had to walk past you and Cass to join the group, but as he passed, he, too, noticed the cuddling duo. He stared for a moment before you tell him to fuck off and he heads back to his scheming siblings.

"We're trying to get these two together. Can you help us?"

Jason crossed his arms while casting his gaze back to you both. He took note how at peace Cass seemed in your arms. She seemed serene and the way she looked at you... Well, it looks like she's in love.

Jason gave a resigned sigh. Even he can see the clear love and devotion.

"What do you need me to do?"

He tried to look disgruntled, but he couldn't hide how curious he was. He watched his siblings carefully. What are they thinking?

"It's not a good idea. Kon wanted to make you force them to kiss. He doesn't trust his superstrength."

Kon shrugged. He's not the brains when it comes to human interactions. Tim and him are both awkward and he struggles with what's normal still.

They watched Cass giggle as you rolled her on top of you for her to sleep. You smiled fondly and gave her a quick forehead kiss. She blushed with a grin on her face. Friends kiss, right? You run your hands along her back and whisper to her,

"I got you."

The evening was surprisingly quiet. Suspiciously quiet. Your eyes landed on the group gathering and narrowed in suspicion. Almost everyone was gathered now and whispering with quick glances your way.

Cass felt so at ease. It was like her heart beat your name. She did consider that you might be more than a friend, but she didn't know how you felt. Sure, you kissed her and cuddled her whenever she asked and you were always respectful by asking before touching her, but you were so close that it makes sense how you'd act. She said in a small voice,

"I have a question."

She took a deep breath to steady her voice, burying her face in your neck. She doesn't want to see your face when you end the friendship.

"Are we... more than friends?"

The silence she received concerned her. She pulled away and looked at you anxiously. After another pause, you asked,

"Would you want to be more than friends?"

Cass nodded. She isn't sure she'd ever survive without your soft forehead kisses and cuddling feels so right. You smiled at her and said in a cheeky tone,

"I guess we're dating then, Miss Cain."

Cass immediately kissed you. You were her salvation and her inner peace. It felt amazing to kiss you like girlfriends. It felt like she could fully relax now that the uncertainty was removed.

The kiss was long and full of love. It spoke all the words she never said and all the pining you both had for each other.

When you pulled back, you both giggled. Your hushed confession of love was for only her ears, but that didn't stop the rest of them trying to listen.

Cass was equally quiet as she whispered to you,

"I love you. You're my saviour."

You kissed her again and raised your middle finger to the group you knew were watching. You love this woman with everything in your heart.

Dick had no clue. He came out from the kitchen with Alfred and both men stopped as they saw the scene. You and Cass kissing, a large group trying (and failing) to pretend they aren't watching. You gave them the middle finger after a while of staring and a couple of photos taken.

Alfred looked relieved, but Dick felt betrayed. Cass never told him she's gay. He's the first one everyone goes to for their problems and secrets. He knew Tim was bisexual long before everybody else, he knows Jason reads fanfiction (he snooped on his phone and found Wattpad downloaded), he knows Damian has hidden a pet fox in his room, he knows everything about everyone except Cass. Cass never went to him, and she rarely caused trouble (that she gets caught doing). Why didn't she want to tell him she's gay? Did she not know until you?

Bruce came down the stairs and also took in the scene. He had a feeling he had more gay kids. He wasn't sure who it was, but it makes sense that it would be Cass. She kept all her cards to her chest, only revealing things as needed. He should have seen it sooner.

Neither of you cared what the family thought. It was only putting a label on mutual feelings that were ignored for far too long.

#lesbian #cassandra cain x fem reader #fem!reader #x reader #batfam x reader

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leah-lover · 1 year ago

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Closed for maintenance. (Arsenal orgy.)

Smut 18+

Part 5.

After the events that just happened, and so as to not overwhelm me, Leah went to get me a glass of water. While laying on Steph’s chest I heard the filthiest moan I have ever heard in my life. Surprised, I gasped. “ Do you want to go and see?” said Steph. I didn't have enough courage to say it out loud so I only nodded.

Steph then ushered me into the bedroom. Once we got there my jaw dropped. Alessi, the woman behind the moan, was in the middle of Katie and caitlain who were bith fucking her witha starp meanwhile Lia was satting their enjoying the view.

Once she saw me she called for me to join her. At that moment I could truthfully say that the only person I blindly trusted was steph. It was not about comfort, I just relaxed more with her, so when Lia called for me, I involuntarily looked at Steph looking for her approval. “ You can do whatever you want, baby, just remember to use your words.” she said with a reassuring smile. Lia was a person that always intimidated me. Yes she was the sweetest but something about her was scary. “ yes i would like to go over to her.'' I said and trusted my gut.

Since Lia was sitting in an armchair, the only solution was to sit on her lap. Since we were naked and she only had her panties on, I freaked out a little. “ Hey, it's okay if you don't want to, I just want you to be comfortable,” she said. “Youare so fucking beautiful.” i say as my eyes drop to her chest. That was meant to be a thought but I said it out loud, embarrassed I looked away from her. With a swift mood she turned my head back to her hers and kissed me. The kiss was a happy medium between soft and rough. Her hands then find their place on my chest. Surprised, I gasped , which allowed her to slip her tongue in my mouth. After a while we stopped so that she could take another look at my body again.

“ I see Steph marked her territory.” she said pointing at the bruises on my neck. Looking over at the bed, Steph was going down on Leah near Alessia who was asleep. The scene was graphic but comforting.

“Leah opened me up too.” I say bravely.

Lia wasn't as surprised as she was amazed by how quick I managed to gta comfortable.

“ I think this attitude of yours needs some taking care of.” she added.

“ Well you better get on with it or I will seek another source.” I replied feeling bratty.

Lia seemed to get motivated by my sudden bratiness. So she got up and went to a drawer to retry a monstrous looking strap.

“ You are gonna get on her knees and take me in all off me no complaints.” she ordered. This was a new side of him that I never got to see. Not wanting to test her, I got on my knees and opened my mouth in front of her strap. Lia was a professional. She used the starp like it was a part of her thrusting slowly in and out of my month. “ that's a good girl taking me in so well. You can take more common and take more for me.” she said in the most reassuring tone. The starp was the biggest I have everseen or taken. But somehow I was able to take her in. my core was throbbing by the time she was close to coming. All the paradise, the sounds and Lia’s hand massaging my scalp made my clit so puffy and needy. I finished doing what I was told. All I wanted was to please her. I gagged a couple times but that didn't faze her she thrusted in my mouth harder and harder grabbing the back of my head tiger in each thrust. The moment she came was the best one of this entire evening. “ such a good girl made me come. Good fucking girl.” she cooed while breathing heavily.

When I got up from my knees my juices were dripping all over my thighs.

“ I think you need to take care of that.” said a woman with an indistinguishable Irish accent. “Please do.” I replied.

I then headed over to the bed where she laid with her strap pointing upwards.in immediately knew what to do so i sat on her lap and she slid inside of me; I will never the coockiest smirk on her face when my head dropped backwards. I was too overwhelmed to to me so she started fucking me. My hand held on to the head board because of the force she was fucking me with. Katie was rough, the roughest I have ever experienced but somehow that was what I needed at the moment. She kept on thrusting harder and harder i gave up on the head board and fell completely on her;

“ i am going to come.'' I said and without a second to spare I collapsed on her shaking. “ You are the most wonderful slut I have ever seen.” she whispered in my ear before getting out of me.

I could feel any part of my body. I was done for the night. I was the happiest and the most exhausted girl in the world.

#alessia russo #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso community #awfc x reader #awfc imagine #awfc #leah × reader #leah williamson #lia walti #lia wälti #steph catley #katie mccabe #woso smut #woso request #woso x reader #woso couples #woso

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envysparkler · 1 year ago

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hugs

It’s not that nobody else’s hugs are good. Dick is the master of cuddling, Cass always knows when to go for a hug and when to back off, and Damian’s hugs are the most adorable thing in the world. Tim does hugs like he thinks they’ll disappear if he doesn’t grip tight enough, Steph hugs like she’s trying to break ribs, and Bruce, as always, is warmth and love and home.

But. But a Jason Todd Hug is special.

Jason is still prickly, still determinedly straddling the line between outsider and family no matter how many people want to pull him back, and he rarely ever attends the family dinners or parties or any get-together when he’s not in the mask.

But sometimes he forgets, forgets that he’s pretending not to be their brother, forgets that he’s keeping them at arm’s length. Sometimes he wraps his arms around them – easily, because he grew up to be the tallest, grew up the most like Bruce – and envelops them in warmth and leather and gun oil and protection.

A Jason Todd Hug is special because it means he cares. Because it feels like a victory. Because it feels like family, like returning home after a long vacation, like sleeping in their own bed and knowing that nothing will ever get them.

Nobody makes the colossal mistake of daring to say this out loud, lest they get cut off forever.

Until Damian squirms out of Dick’s grasp and snaps, “You’re not Todd, you can’t hug me.”

Dick’s mind goes blank. Tim, on the Batcomputer, stops typing. Steph pokes her head out of the medbay, eyes wide.

Dick recovers and then immediately scans the Cave. No Jason in sight, thank god.

“You can’t just say things like that, Dami,” Dick hisses, “Do you want him to sulk and never come back here again?”

“You’ve gotten a Jason Todd Hug?” Steph asks, eyes wide and betrayed, “How? How did the baby assassin get a hug? I’ve been trying for months!”

“You’ve been trying to get a hug from Jason?” Tim blinks at her, while Dick mouths ‘months?’.

“Sure, after I saw you practically melt into it,” Steph says, pouting, “You never do that with Dick’s hugs. I thought it must be something special.”

“That’s because you never encourage Dick, he will hold on and never let go,” Tim says, eyes dark as he grumbles over his coffee. Dick magnanimously chooses to ignore that statement.

“It isn’t that difficult,” Dick smiles at her, “Either you go for the ‘looking pathetic’ route, or you ambush him.”

Steph looks like she wants to take notes. Damian huffs, “Who made you the expert on Todd’s hugs?”

“Well, I get the most hugs, so I should be the expert,” Dick explains reasonably.

Damian and Tim eye him speculatively. Oops.

“Care for a friendly wager?” Tim asks with a shark smile.

That’s when the whiteboard goes up.

Steph’s in favor of writing ‘Jason Todd Hugs’ on it, but Dick convinces her to keep it to initials because if Jason ever finds out, the competition will be over permanently. They all add their names to the list.

“Alright, any time anyone gets a hug, we add a tally mark,” Dick says, “No maiming, bribery, or blackmail allowed.” Standard rules.

“When do we end the competition?” Tim asks.

Dick frowns. If Jason’s in a Mood then it might be weeks before anyone gets a hug from him, and he wants this to be fair. To give the munchkins a chance.

“First to ten?” Steph suggests.

“Sounds good,” Dick agrees, “Though if we’re getting Jason’s hugs, we’re already winners.”

They all shake on it, and the whiteboard goes up near a board of other miscellaneous stuff, not hidden but definitely out of visible line of sight for anyone who enters the Cave through the garage entrance and spends only five minutes before leaving again.

~#~

C is added to the list of participants the next day, without any notice or explanation.

~#~

There is a little scribble of a bat on the whiteboard by the end of the week. There is also a W squeezed in between the T and H in the title.

The competitors look at each other across the Cave and nod. The battle is on.

~#~

Cass is the first one who gets on the scoreboard, mainly because she drops in on top of Jason on one of his rare visits to the Cave.

Jason was arguing with Bruce, his jaw tightening, his expression shifting from irritation to frustration when the Black Bat drops from the rigging and knocks him flat against the mats.

Jason stares up at her, bewildered. “Did you fall?” he asks. Cass widens her eyes in lieu of outright lying, and flops on top of him. Jason automatically wraps his arms around her and she relaxes into the hug.

“You should be more careful,” he says quietly.

Cass hums, and lets her head rest against the thump-thump of his heartbeat.

When Jason has left, motorcycle roaring away, she takes the marker and draws a single line below the C.

Tim shoots her a dirty look.

~#~

“It’s not fair,” Tim glowers at Dick, hair half-sticking up on one side, as Dick dramatically and pointedly adds another tally to his score, bringing it up to four.

Jason nearly stabbed him, but it’s worth it.

“I gave you my secrets, baby bird,” Dick laughs, “What more do you want?”

“You and Cass just. Attack him with hugs,” Tim waves his hands to make his point, “That’s not fair!”

“You could attack him with hugs too,” Dick points out.

Tim gives him a flat look. “Somehow I have a feeling that won’t go over well.”

Dick shrugs, hiding his smirk. “That sounds like a you problem.”

~#~

He notices it on a visit to the Cave, a whiteboard that’s clearly a new addition, emblazoned with JTWH in Dick’s handwriting. The W is smaller than the rest, like it was squeezed in after.

Underneath it is a long line of initials with tally marks underneath. D, T, DW, S, C, and a little stylized bat. The whole gang. (Except him.)

Dick is clearly winning, with five tallies under his name, though someone seems to have scrawled in ‘cheater’ underneath those. Cass is in second place with three, Replacement and Batgirl have tied for third with two, Babs has one, and Damian has a half for some reason. Bruce, he’s happy to see, is losing.

He doesn’t mention it. He’s distracted by the case they’re working on, and then by patrol, and by the time he remembers it, he’s irritable and sleep-deprived and bitter enough that the idea that they left him out of their competition fits right at home with his aching heart.

~#~

“What’s JTWH?” he asks, because the whiteboard is in his line of sight and it never stopped bothering him. Jason tries to keep his voice casual, tries to not ruin the pleasant mood in the Cave, but his next words are a little too sharp. “And why am I not on the scoreboard?”

Everyone goes silent in a way that’d be freaky if they weren’t all piled on top of him. He can practically hear the looks being exchanged around him.

“What, afraid I was going to smoke all of you at your competition?” Jason asks. More looks. Jason tenses, waiting for it – the ‘you said you’re not part of this family’ and ‘you never asked’ and ‘we forgot’.

“You are,” Cass says simply, patting his head.

“I am what?”

“On board.”

Jason squints at the whiteboard. Nope, he can’t see his name on it. “No, I’m not. And no one told me about any competition either.”

“Silly goose,” Cass says, which has become her favorite phrase ever since Bruce used it once, “You are. Top.”

Jason frowns, because he still doesn’t – JTWH. Oh.

“And what do the rest of the letters stand for?” Jason grumbles, wondering what they’re tracking. How many days since he killed someone. How many days since he’s threatened them. How many times he’s yelled at them. “Jason Todd Was Here? Jason Todd Water Hose? Jason Todd –”

“Wayne,” Bruce says quietly from next to him. “Jason Todd-Wayne.”

Jason swallows. He can’t quite look at Bruce. “What does the H stand for?”

Everyone gives each other shifty looks.

“Oh, wow, that bad, huh.”

“Hugs,” Steph rolls her eyes, “Jason Todd-Wayne Hugs. So, no, actually, you can’t win, because you can’t give yourself a hug.”

Jason blinks at her.

“Steph,” Tim whines from somewhere near his elbow.

“I said that no one was allowed to tell,” Dick sighs, “I said it explicitly. I warned you all.”

“Tt. If the competition ends because of you, Brown, I will take my vengeance.” Damian’s grip tightens on Jason’s leg.

“Well, it was either the truth or whatever his imagination was coming up with,” Steph shrugs. She’s looking at him like he’s going to disappear.

“Wait,” Jason croaks, because he lost the thread of this conversation somewhere, “You’ve been having a competition…over hugs?”

“Over your hugs.”

#my snippets #jason todd hugs #there was supposed to be more in here #about the competition #but I got bored #and now I don't remember the rest of it

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thegremlininyourcloset · 2 months ago

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silly Steph headcanon time

@fictfrenzy

every member of (comics) young justice has had a crush on Steph at one point

like she and Tim dated, obviously

But like.

Kon’s bisexual ass saw a badass girl who wisecracks and immediately tried to flirt with her

this evolved into a full-blown crush when he watched her throw someone twice her size and started wondering if she could pick him up

(she can)

Bart didn’t really recognize it as a crush and just basically thought she was really, really cool and also he really wanted her to like him (he especially loved the name Spoiler)

Cassie also didn’t really recognize it as a crush and was just like “Wow I love being friends with girls! Haha isn’t it funny how pretty Spoiler is with a mask on? What do you mean that’s totally normal friendship feelings! It’s how I feel about Cissie?”

(no one tell her)

Cissie is shocked by how hard Spoiler has worked to become a vigilante. She is frustrated by Stephanie, and wants to figure her out. This leads to a deep deep curiosity, and a little bit of a fixation. Cissie eventually realizes that hey, she thinks about Spoiler Like. A lot. Surely that doesn’t mean anything…right?

At first, Greta is kinda jealous of Spoiler’s relationship to Robin (Tim) . She challenges her, and they bicker and fight a lot. In a way similar to Cissie, Greta finds herself focusing a Lot on Spoiler. She thinks about what Spoiler and Robin must be doing…and woah there Greta, those are some Thoughts you are having. As time goes on…Greta is less and less sure of exactly who she’s jealous of

#stephanie brown #tim drake #kon el #cassie sandsmark #cissie king jones #greta hayes #young just us #young justice #yj98 #should I tag this #stephkon #stephbart #stephcassie #stephcissie #spoilsecrets

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rjshope · 1 year ago

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the brightest star

for @cosmicdreamgrl✨

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 1 year ago

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got any more empath reader?

Only because there's rampant plot bunnies for it in my brain. I have an abundance of much more polite asks.

"You okay?" Dick asked, careful not to touch you as he got close enough to speak in your ear- to be heard above the din. You were drowning in an oversized hoodie and that usually meant "Do not. I am not real today."

You half shrug and give him a wan smile, "About as okay as it gets after a blow out."

"It was a good one, huh." He rubbed the back of his neck and leaned against the wall. You exuded calm he knew you didn't feel. And it was nice. He felt better, and he appreciated it. That benefit of your odd little empathic quirk.

Bruce had banned you from doing it to the WHOLE manor all at once, but, it was a little difficult for him to stop you from doing it in your immediate vicinity.

"What was Jason like before?" you ask, tucking your knees up under your hoodie and wrapping your arms around yourself. There's no judgement in the question, just curiosity. From someone else that had felt a part of themself die on a filthy floor.

"Annoyingly cheerful," Dick snorted. "Tough though. Street smart. Idealistic and brave to a fault. It's like he was made in a lab to be Robin. I got the job by Tragedy. Jason got the job because Bruce- well frankly I think Bruce was lonely and saw a scrappy kid who stole his tires and just went 'welp guess I'm a dad again'. And we all know Tim just bullied his way in." He broke off and shook his head. "He didn't really mean what he said about-"

"You and Steph call me a Science experiment all the time," you point out.

"Yeah," Dick admitted, wincing. "But it didn't go wrong. What they did to you was wrong. They way they did it was wrong. What you can do is cool as shit... You're not a walking Xanax. That's not what we keep you around for."

When you don't look at him, nodding silently, he wonders what you're picking up. How deep you can dig through a person for their buried feelings. And exactly what it COSTS to know that information all the time. "I think I'm gonna go on a walk for a while."

" 'Kay," Dick said easily, "Planning on comin' back for dinner?" Rambles were good. And not uncommon. They gave you time to clear your head.

"I'm not sure," you admit, "but I should be back before dark."

Dick nodded, "I'll tell Bruce. I don't think he wants you on Patrol for any particular reason. You're probably just on stand by." With any luck, Dick thought, they'd never put you with Jason. That would be catastrophic.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #science experiment! reverse

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rushman-natalierushman · 2 months ago

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Serenity

(Doctor) Stephen Strange x fem!reader

**slowburn

Summary:

Warnings: nsfw, sexual themes, language, fluff & smut

I was never one to think that dreams were more than just that… dreams. But after the battles I’ve fought, the thought crosses my mind. Is it so crazy that there are alternate versions of us, making decisions that we never made? An alternate timeline where things might turned out differently? Versions of us, crying for help with no way to reach us. Haunting us because in our reality, we couldn’t do better.

All theorized but never proven. But deep down, we know. Otherwise, how would we mistake our realities for the fantasies we create in our heads? How do we let our nightmares haunt us in the waking light if they do not truly draw life?

I've had my doubts about the multiverse. So has the sorcerer supreme himself. Wong, of course. Stephen missed a few years, costing him the title. But even so... the blip, the alien wars, the chaos we've witnessed in our most recent lives- it wasn't proof enough for us to believe that such a thing could exist. Or maybe we couldn't bring ourselves to want to believe that in another lifetime, darkness prevails to exist.

Maybe that's why terror was coursing through his veins. Stephen wasn't foreign to nightmares, especially after the accident. But something that never occurred to him, was allowing himself to share that burden with someone who was willing to carry it. He didn't have to suffer alone, and I for one saw what no one else could. Grief. It was always mistaken for arrogance or narcissism, but I knew better.

I don't know when it started, but on restful nights, I observed his features. He seemed so peaceful when his head was clear. I learned that THE Doctor Strange found comfort in my presence. Whether or not it was related to my ability, I didn't much care. I was at ease to know that I could make such an impression on someone as obstinite as Stephen Strange. Knowing he trusts me to help heal his wounds and share a side of himself only I could witness. A vulnerable Strange.

That's how the night began. The resting sorcerer lay beside me until I saw fit to join him in his slumber. Sometimes they last, but in this early morning, the nightmare began.

I felt the bed jolt beneath me as loud grunts began echoing throughout the room from Stephen. They were ragged and harsh. I could tell he was trying his hardest to hold back in an attempt to not wake me. But it's as I said, I knew better. My eyes fluttered open as I turned my head slightly to look over at him. His palms slid up his face to wipe the beads of sweat that had formed. I unwrapped my arm from underneath my pillow and turned myself so that I could sit up with him.

I placed my hand on Stephen's shoulder in a comforting manner, causing him to stiffen underneath my touch. Immediately snapping his head to turn and reassure himself that it was, in fact, just me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you" I muttered lowly, looking up at him half lidded. I rested my chin on the hand I layered over his shoulder. He breathed out a sigh of relief, only to realize he had failed to keep himself from interrupting my sleep.

"No, it's fine. I'm the one who should be apologizing," Stephen tried but I immediately shut him down.

"Stephen, we've been over this. I want to help you," I removed my hand from his shoulder and brought it to caress the opposite side of his face. Gently pulling him to face me, I made sure his eyes were set on mine. "You're not alone."

He smiled sadly in return. Placing his hand over mine and shutting his eyes to take in my warmth. I smiled at the gesture, bringing him to rest his forehead on mine. It didn't take long before flashes of the dream that caused him to be so frightened appeared in my head. Pulling away on instinct, my eyes shot open at the torment. Immediately, I read the regret in his expression.

"You shouldn't have to use it on me. I shouldn't have to put you through this time and time again-," Stephen declared, eyes unable to meet mine. He had pulled away from my touch, standing from the bed.

It had become routine. On sleepless nights, I’d take his pain, his anxiety, his fears. For only a moment, after I’d soaked in all his emotions, everything would hit all at once. It was stronger than whoever I adapted it from. But it only lasted seconds. Beyond that, I’d free us both from it. However, Stephen wasn’t a fan of sacrificing my well-being for the sake of his.

"This is my choice, Stephen," I reached out for him, but he only took a step further. "You know I can take it away," I argued as I stayed sat on my knees, not leaving the bed.

"At what cost?"

"Your serenity," I defended. This earned a moment of silence and glares from one another until he broke it with a scoff.

"That's not enough."

I tilted my head as he looked away, stopping at the bedside table where his broken watch laid. I caught this and exhaled deeply, needing to look anywhere else. Maybe it was the sadness in his eyes or the guilt in his heart, but I couldn't watch him do this to himself. It broke my heart.

"Stephen, I made a promise to you," he refused to turn back to look at me, but I didn't mind. All he needed to do was listen. "I swore that no matter how bad it got, I wouldn't turn my back on you. That no amount of pain and suffering would ever be too much for me because I had you. We're in this together. And I'm not leaving you."

I must've caught his attention because he seemed to have finally reconnected his eyes with mine. A small smile began to form on my face as he started to let his guard down once again.

"You can push me away all you want, but you know that I can see right through your stubborn act. You need me. Just as much as I need you," I stood on my knees, sliding my hands up his strong, defined arms. "Because you love me," I whispered as my hands reached to cup his face. My eyes darted back and forth between his.

"I'm just... afraid," he began. "...afraid you'll see me for the monster I am. Afraid you'll run off to find someone better; someone capable of being mentally and emotionally available to you-"

"Stephen..."

"Someone who can offer you what you deserve-"

"Stephen."

"(y/n)."

I took a moment to make sure he heard me straight and clear. Looking down at his puppy eyes, I finally declared, "I'm not her."

Stephen dropped his head to rest on my shoulder, allowing me to wrap my arms around him as he did the same. "I know, I'm sorry."

"Stop trying to apologize for moments you cannot control. Just..." I trailed off as a wave of endearment washed over me. I was glad to feel that Stephen was aware of my intentions and that his trust within me was growing in moments like these. "...let me in," I finished with clarity. We both knew I wasn't just speaking figuratively. "Let me in, Stephen," I began to lower my voice rather seductively. "I can help you."

I began to lower myself back on the bed as I pulled him to sit beside me once again. His eyes glued to mine as I lightly pushed him to lean against the headboard. Straddling him, I became aware of his scarred, trembling hands trailing up my things until they caught on my hips. "I want this," I reminded him as I lifted his chin by my finger.

"(y/n), I..." he trailed off as I antagonized him by slowly unbuttoning my shirt, or rather his shirt. I had found it a lot comfier to sleep in his more loose button-ups. And to this, Stephen never rebutted- seeing as in situations like this, it was more... convenient.

"You... what?" I teased, well aware of the effect I had on him as I let the fabric slide off my shoulders. I watched his eyes follow the skin that revealed itself until my shoulders were bare, but still allowing the piece of clothing to hang from me.

"I don't... want to hurt you," he took pauses to help himself concentrate on his train of thought. I leaned forward enough to ghost my lips just before his. Needing him to prove my point, I hovered in place. Thrusting my hips forward, I felt him growing beneath me. I threw my head back, letting out a soft moan. Bringing my eyes back to his, I felt him lean forward to connect our lips, but I only inched away.

"You could never hurt me," I disclosed. I began to rock my hips back and forth. Gently. Slowly. I could feel his eyes stuck on my reaction to the friction I was receiving with my movements. I then felt his fingertips dig into my hips to get me closer. "Oh, god..."

"(y/n)..." he muttered under his breath as he began trailing his lips up my neck. I giggled at the sensation of his trimmed facial hair tickling my skin.

"That's it..." I breathed out, encouraging him to give in. I could feel the vibrations of his groans on my neck, confirming just how much he was enjoying it. I tangled my fingers in his hair as he searched for my sweet spot. I bit my lip when he had finally discovered it, nipping at the vein. I began to moan out louder as he added his own thrusts. Now stimulated with a great amount of pleasure, I lightly tugged at his hair to bring him face to face with me. He smiled at my dazed look, earning an eye roll in return. Leaning forward, I nearly attached my lips to his until I uttered my last full sentence. "Let me make you feel good."

With that our lips crashed in a desperate yet passionate kiss. I quickly discarded the shirt that had been resting on my arms and let his hands roam my body. I granted Stephen access as our tongues fought for dominance. It wasn't until we needed more than just friction to keep us at our highs that we broke apart. I lifted myself just enough for him to free himself from his sweatpants and align himself. Stephen teased at my entrance by letting the tip glide back and forth until he had me a begging mess. "Stephen, please... I need you," I pleaded.

Unable to deny my request, he grabbed my hips and gently lowered me enough to earn an escaped groan from my throat. Letting him take control, I let my hips roll at the command of his fingertips digging into me. Sinking down further, I bit my lip to hide the mewls that wanted to free themselves. That's when Stephen brought one hand to tuck some hair behind my ear and then a thumb to brush against my bottom lip. "Don't hide those pretty little sounds from me," he demanded, lighting a fire within me.

"Doesn't feel good, does it," I snapped back, "to have someone hide from you." Stephen's hand trailed to the back of my head, only to roughly force my face just before his. Nose to nose. I leaned in to kiss him, but he in turn pulled himself away. He was mocking me...

"No. It doesn't," He let out before landing a few pecks on my jaw, reuniting with the sweet spot on my neck. I hadn't noticed that his hand also relocated. His thumb began circling at my clit as he began to thrust upward into me. My lips parted in pleasure, leaving harsh breaths right in his ear.

"Fuck..."

Stephen grunted at my little foul response as I began to match my hip thrusts to his. His hands roamed my back as our motions synchronized. Neither of us felt the need to rush our pleasure highs. As we kept a steady pace, that's when he found himself most vulnerable and open. He let his emotions run free, allowing me to soak them in. Each sensation came in stronger than the last. I felt myself clench around him at the overwhelming intensities.

"Shit, baby-" He reacted to the gesture. I could feel worry starting to consume him.

"I'm okay... I can take it," I reassured as I quickened my pace, grabbing his shoulders to steady myself. I tightened my grip as he applied more pressure to the clit. Resting my head on his shoulders, I felt that rush again. Pain. Rejection. Guilt. Horror. I accidentally let a small whine slip out, causing him to stop his movements.

"Are you hurt? Is it too much? We can stop," he grew concerned. I lifted my head off his shoulder and revealed the tear that managed to find its way down my cheek. "This isn't what I wanted-"

"I want this. I want you..." my voice cracked as he wiped the tear away. "It's only temporary. I promise. Please let me do this for you. I can't watch you wake up all those restless nights, mornings even, knowing I could've helped in the slightest."

Stephen pressed his lips together in response but refused to make the first move.

"Stephen, please..." I begged. "...please" I tried once more, this time using his attraction to me to my advantage. "please..." I grabbed his wrists, letting them glide up my torso until they reached my breasts. Guiding his fingertips to massage them until he was will-powered enough to do so himself. "...please" I threw my head back as I ran my hands behind his neck, inching him closer. He thrusted involuntarily, restarting the motion.

“Stephen” thrust

"Stop..." thrust

"Please, Stephen..." thrust

"(y/n)..." thrust

"Stephen..." thrust

I mewled out that last call to him.

"Fuck, the things you do to me..." and just like that, I had won the battle. He placed a soft hand on my lower back as he flipped me over to lay flat on the bed. Stephen towered over me as I watched his pupils darken. This was it, he was letting go. "You want it?" Stephen snapped his hips forward, pinning my hands on either side of my head with his. "Take it, all of it."

Not only had I felt the sudden breeze of negative emotions he had suddenly put upon me, but his lust overpowered it all. With each and every thrust, I felt my toes curl. “Take the pain. Take the pleasure." I rolled my eyes back as euphoria coursed through me. I cried out to him in pleasure as his movements became sloppy. Stephen didn't leave a single moment for me to catch my breath, just pure ecstasy. "Is this how you imagined it? Getting your brain fucked into exhilaration?"

"Yes..." I began clawing at his back as if that would somehow bring us closer.

"You know what I think, I think you wanted to be trapped here. I think you like who I become when I lose control- fucking hell, (y/n)..." he growled as I tightened around him, reaching my climax. Stephen paused his staggered movements so as to not release himself quite yet. "Oh, honey... we're not done just yet."

He raised my hands up above my head and pinned my wrists with one hand, letting the other work his way down to work against his thrusts. Words could no longer form as I let out high-pitched squeals at the overstimulation. Stephen began falling apart as he began groaning in my ear in return, sending shivers down my spine.

It only took a few final harsh thrusts for him to send me over the edge. My vision spotted as my wrists were freed from his grasp. Stephen held himself up with his arms sprawled out on either side of me. His head hung from his shoulders, daring to his hips one last buck. I whined out while Stephen pecked my jaw apologetically.

"I told you... to stop... apologizing," I let out in between breaths half-jokingly as Stephen chuckled and pulled out to lay beside me. Unable to find the will to move, I only slightly turn my head to face him. I curve my lips up into a satisfied smile and grew the courage to place my hand on his chest and raise it up behind his neck, toying with the locks at the back of his head. "Thank you. For trusting me."

Cupping my face, Stephen brought his lips to my forehead. "Thank you for loving me."

"You're not a monster, Stephen. We've all got our demons. Even the all so wise and powerful Doctor Strange deserves to be loved and cared for," I emphasized. "Now, rest."

#stephen strange #doctor strange #marvel fanfiction #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange x reader #benedict cumberbatch

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anothertimdrakestan · 24 days ago

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Hi! Can you please do a headcannon where the bat family reacts to the tv show arcane like you did with atla please I think it would be so cool!!!!

YES

Batfam reacting to Arcane Headcanons!

- tim heard about it through the bisexual grapevine and brought it up during family movie night

- everyone agreed simply because they love animated shows

- season 1 & 2 were both out so they started friday and watched all through saturday (bruce had to call the superfam in to watch over gotham lol)

- immediately everyone had a favorite character

- jason thought it was stupid until he saw vi being a total badass and thought "she's chill as fuck i like it"

- damian didn't really have a favorite until he saw ekko. he'll deny it but he shed real tears during the ekko/powder scenes

- dick thought mel was a baddie but secretly loved heimerdinger - he just thought the lil guy was so cute but also so knowledgeable during the second season. he couldn't help but feel the ekko/heimerdinger moments were him and damian to a T

- steph can't help that she loves chaos, so every time jinx went ballistic steph was there cheering her on. she also knows what it's like to be just a girl looking for a father figure

- tim... oh sweet tim... infatuated. obsessed. in too deep. for jayce. can he admit he was roleplaying as victor during the whole show? is it wrong if he just wants a genius hunk next to him in a brilliant workshop?

- tim was desperately texting conner pictures of victor and jayce explaining they had to do a cosplay

- conner agreed

- the ending battles were really brutal for the family to endure, huge debates with steph on jinx's side, tim promising himself victor isn't as bad as he looks, and overall everyone being a little sick of caitlyn up until the vi/cait scene

- steph loudly pronouncing all lesbians the hottest in the show

- damian was too busy thinking of how he could go about forcing star labs to produce an air board for him like ekko had

- everyone felt bad for vander, with bruce tearing up a little at the idea of doing everything for your family even as you feel yourself turning into a monster

- jason felt it too.

- dick was just wondering if he should switch to a giant hammer but decided it might slow him down

- the credits roll and everyone instantly needed to know if there would be a season 3, and there was uproar when they discovered the story was over

- everyone was trying to do victors silly accent for the next few weeks and steph dyed her hair blue in solidarity

- jason started hanging around gay bars looking for a buff butch best friend to no avail

- needless to say everyone loved it, and a few league of legends players were born that weekend, i'll leave it up to you to figure out who would main who!

hope u enjoyed!

#batboys #batfam #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #steph brown #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batfamily headcanons #batfam headcanons #arcane #arcane headcanon #arcane reference #conner kent #tim drake x conner kent #tim drake x kon el #batfam funny #batfam lgbt

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antebunny · 9 months ago

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Babysitter from Hell

Jason changes his mind on never associating with any of the Bats ever again because of one Stephanie Brown. She had absolutely no intention of changing his mind about anything, she just showed up and started talking until Jason begrudgingly accepted his fate as the “I’ll kill for you” member of a “live for me” family.

(That’s a lie. He’s gotten over 10% of anything that’s ever happened to him in his eventful albeit painfully short life. But he’s working on it, okay?)

Before Jason knew any better, Steph reminded him of Dick. A cheerful, upbeat personality, a flagrant and equally cheerful disregard for Batman’s orders, an overconsumption of sugary breakfast items, a love for bright colors, and an annoying distaste for brutality, considering both are (technically) violent criminals.

Really, the main difference he saw was that Steph fucking hates his guts.

Jason is still sure that Dick will, eventually, after Titan’s Tower. He put his plan to give his Replacement a beat-down on hold after the Bats discovered his identity. It’s hard to maintain his level of hatred for the Bats when they keep soft-speaking at him like he’s some sort of victim they’re rescuing. That’s also why he keeps avoiding Dick. The guy treats all of Jason’s threats against the Replacement like one big joke. Who would’ve thought that the “getting pissed on the Replacement’s behalf” job would fall to his ex-girlfriend?

In summary, Jason thought Steph was a purple-clad, blond-haired female version of Dick with no emotional attachment to the second Robin, and a personal relationship with the third Robin. An enemy, in other words. Someone with every reason to be ideologically opposed to Jason for the rest of time.

Still, she’s a kid. Jason has promised himself to be nice to all vigilantes, no matter how sanctimonious or annoying, so long as they’re only fifteen years old. So when he finds her perched on a rooftop corner, doing recon on a case that he is working on, he mutters a curse to himself and doubles back to find a good spot to grapple to her rooftop without anyone noticing. He doesn’t want to get in a fight with a kid, but he doesn’t want anyone to think they’re on friendly terms, either. Better that no one knows.

Spoiler notices him coming at the last second and rolls to her feet. Too late if he was actually trying to kill her, and she’s also giving up her position. How sloppy. Jason can’t believe Batman’s letting her out like this.

“Go run home to daddy,” he growls. “Before I make you.”

That should be enough. Jason has a gun. (A lot of them). She can’t have more than two years of training. She clearly has been instructed not to engage with him, if the way she quietly mutters O, it’s Hood, yes I’m leaving immediately pinky promise means anything. Which is why Jason is utterly floored when she snaps back at him.

“My dad’s in jail, where he belongs,” Spoiler retorts.

“What.”

That’s all Jason can manage when Jason_Todd.exe stops functioning. Several rebooting attempts fail as they run into Bruce is in jail??? then no, obviously not Bruce then I don’t even care if Bruce is in jail then who is Spoiler, anyway? If Jason casts his mind back to who he thought Spoiler was before all this happened, he would’ve said roughly middle class, most likely orphaned, and probably had a parent that was the head of Gotham’s social services before being brutally murdered by some Rogue who hated anyone being nice to orphans. It would’ve been on par for the course, at least. Bruce’s parents were good up until they were good and dead. Same with Dick. Barbara’s dad, despite being the chief of police, was somehow the one non-corrupt cop in all of Gotham. Jason was the only unlucky one.

Or so he thought.

“So unless you’re gonna put me in jail,” Spoiler prompts. “Which would be pretty hypocritical of you, considering–”

“What the fuck is he locked up for?”

Okay, he could’ve said that nicer. And he said he would be nice to kids. But consider: Jason is just not very good at keeping his promises.

Spoiler stares at him blankly in a way only someone wearing white-out lenses and a lower face mask can. “For…being a knockoff Riddler? Ever heard of Cluemaster? I guess it’s understandable for your average citizen to not but like, this is your job, dude. How can you not–”

“Cluemaster?” Jason interrupts again, even harsher than before. He vaguely recognizes the name from the long list of minor villains that came and went while Jason was away. “Arthur Brown?”

“Yep!” Spoiler springs forward and extends a hand. Belatedly he realizes that he hasn’t lowered his gun. “Stephanie Brown, nice ta meet ‘cha!”

And that’s how Jason learns Steph’s name.

Jason finally does lower the gun, only so that he can bat her hand away and look frantically around the rooftop for anyone who might’ve overheard. “You can’t just tell me your secret identity!” He shouts, careful to not repeat her name even when he’s losing control over his volume. “That–what the fuck! That’s Vigilantism 101!”

Spoiler–Stephanie–picks up his hand and shakes it vigorously.

“What the fuck,” Jason repeats blankly while his hand–or more accurately, blood-stained glove–is shaken by an overeager fifteen-year-old idiot. “What the fuck. I’m a–a Rogue. I’m your enemy. How the fuck did B let you out in a mask.”

“Okay, first of all, B didn’t let me do anything,” Stephanie corrects, affronted about all the wrong things. “I was the one running around trying to stop my dad’s–Cluemaster, in case you already forgot–plans. Second of all, I know who you are, I’m not an idiot. B got a hell of a lecture on how it’s very not pogchamp to keep important secrets from us. I wouldn’t just tell anyone. Third, I thought you already knew? Aren’t you obsessed with Robin? How come you didn’t already know?”

Jason steps away from her, mind reeling with memories of two-bit criminal Willis Todd and his reign of terror in that shitty, one-bedroom apartment deep in Park Row. He would bet his (second) life that long before Arthur Brown took to the streets, he took whatever it is that’s so fucked up inside him out on those closest to him. His family, the people that needed and trusted him the most, the people that could not just walk away.

How many times has Jason thought of Willis Todd and burned with resentment whenever the Bats preached about all criminals getting second chances? They wouldn’t get it, he’d told himself; a hollow comfort, clearly, when Stephanie is standing right in front of him, as bright and cheerful as ever, happy to be working with the Bats even while she spits on her father’s memory.

(Not memory. His name. He’s alive, albeit rotting in prison. Just one more abuser that Batman refused to kill for someone he l–someone under his protection).

“I know now,” Jason drawls. “Should’ve listened to their lectures on secret identities. Now leave, little girl.”

And maybe it’s the insult, or O (whoever that is, because Jason does not, in fact, know) telling her to go, but Spoiler gives him one more affronted look and leaves.

It’s not the last he hears of Spoiler, of course. Though someone clearly gives her the mother of all lectures afterwards, because she avoids him for a couple weeks. That gives him the time to do his own research.

Stephanie Brown lives in the Narrows with her mother, a mere hop and skip from where Jason grew up. She went to public school up until last academic year, whereupon she got a scholarship from Wayne Foundation. She attends Gotham Academy, like the Replacement, like Barbara, like Dick (like Jason before that too was stolen from him).

She’s surprisingly similar to Jason. (He swears he’s not just drawing comparison for his own ego). Her mother is still alive, so she received a scholarship instead of being adopted by Bruce. But both fathers were a joke to the very idea of fatherhood. (Both mothers failed to protect them from the father). Both grew up in poor, dangerous neighborhoods with violent, criminal fathers.

The thing is–and Jason surprises himself with the revelation–he wants to mentor her. Jason is very sure that he understands, better than any of the Bats, what she has gone through. The same soft streak which hates to see kids on the streets wants to take her under his wing.

I don’t understand, Little Wing. What did he do to you?

It’s impossible for so many reasons that it doesn’t bother stating. Jason isn’t a Bat (anymore), and the lack of trust is mutual even if the hate is not. Really, the most important reason should be the fact that Steph hates his guts, except–

“And I know he means well, but he’s just so…overbearing sometimes, y’know?”

Jason slaps another pancake down on her plate. “Tell me ‘bout it.”

They’re a farce, the two of them. Eating pancakes at midnight on the only clean kitchen counter (the other is littered with disassembled guns) while Jason is half-dressed in military-grade gear. Steph, meanwhile, speaks with her mouth stuffed full. Maple syrup drips onto her fluffy white crop top (Jason didn’t know they made fluffy crop tops), and she brushes crumbs off her purple sweatpants.

It feels like a joke. The remorseless murderer, glowering at his mixing bowl and the teenage vigilante, resembling nothing so much as a chipmunk. (It feels a bit like having a family again).

“Like, it’s like he’s showing off how many friends he has,” Steph continues, oblivious to Jason’s inner monologue. “Which I know he’s not, but seriously. He’s been doing this so much longer than any of us, and then he gets so excited by someone new and tries to introduce them to everyone and it’s like–he’s friends with Starfire, and all the original Titans, and half the Justice League and half of Gotham’s Rogue gallery, and goddamn Superman. And he has B wrapped around his little finger and doesn’t even know it!”

Jason’s pancake suddenly tastes bland and weirdly mushy. “Yeah. Sucks ass but kinda funny.”

Somehow Jason’s attempts to look after Steph on patrol, to make sure she isn’t too injured, turned into this. Steph bursts into one of his apartments of safehouses at random hours of the day, raids his pantry, and complains a mile a minutes about anyone and everything.

“You gonna answers his calls?” Steph side-eyes him. “I know he keeps getting your number somehow and you know he really misses you.”

Which is not to say that all Steph does is complain and talk about herself. She’s all too happy to prod Jason about his (nonexistent) personal life.

“No,” Jason answers shortly, and throws another pancake on her plate. “Eat or get out.”

Steph shrugs and attacks her new pancake with gusto. She doesn’t push or pry, unlike some people Jason could mention, though she always asks. A Bat who is capable of just letting it go. Jason thought he’d never see the day.

If Jason were an “asks question” type of person instead of a “bottle everything up until you choke on it” kind of person, maybe he’d ask about her father. About what really happened with Black Mask, not just what news reports speculate. (Ask how she can stand to love the Bats when they’ve failed her so terribly, when her abuser draws breath, when her murderer walks free, when the Bats sleep easily knowing both of those facts and have no intention of changing either fact even though they claim to l–)

Jason isn’t an “asks question” type of person.

“Hey, can I bring Tim next time?” Steph asks, just shy of casual. “He’d–”

The wooden mixing spoon cracks in Jason’s hand. “Unless you wanna get him a couple’a broken bones,” he says evenly, “I’d suggest keepin’ that little parasite far away from me.”

Steph scowls, suddenly remembering that she doesn’t like Jason. “I don’t get why you hate him.”

Why wouldn’t he. The Replacement represents everything Jason loathes. It’s almost too perfect, how hateable he is.

“I don’t get how you dated him,” Jason retorts, which is maybe a little beneath him. Whatever.

“Oh, we are not talking about my dating history,” Steph hisses. She shoves her stool back as she stands, fork clattering to the counter. “Bros before hoes. You’re the hoe. Tim’s my bro.”

Jason is trying to decide whether or not to take offense while she produces a takeout box out of nowhere. For her next trick, she disappears all the remaining pancakes on her plate into the box, seals it smartly, and disappears the box.

“Thanks for the food. Asshole.” Steph scowls, upset at her own manners and upset at Jason for not simpering for the little leech who wormed himself into Jason’s f–the group of people Jason would’ve once called family.

Jason is no expert, but when someone makes pancakes for you at midnight, it’s an act of love. Or something. He could never say it out loud, but Steph gets it. She knows what going on here, beneath Jason’s harsh words (and threats, and firearms, and–you get the point).

It almost feels like having a little sister, or a weird little cousin. Steph isn’t remotely scared of him. She inexplicably wants to spend time with Jason, as rough and unpleasant as he is. Jason doesn’t believe for one second that the other Bats don’t know about her visits, so somehow, they’re fine with it too. The only thing chasing Steph away and flaring Jason’s temper, is, once again, the fucking Replacement.

The next Bat to successfully land a standing invitation to Jason’s (nonexistent) dinner table is also one of the first. Barbara Gordon rolls up to his doorstep one night, armed only with whatever rocket launchers she has installed in her wheelchair (which probably doesn’t sound like “only” to anyone but Jason). The arched frown she levels at him from over her glasses is so familiar, so lovingly judgemental, that Jason tears up a little.

He slams his front door closed and starts dumping his gear, back to Barbara, so he can hide his face until the wetness around his eyes goes away. When he turns around, Barbara is a little closer and a little further to his left, by the kitchen counter stools.

“Hey Babs,” says Jason, at a loss for what else to do. “What the fuck happen’a you?”

“Nice to see you too, Jason,” Barbara replies dryly. “Or should I say long time no see. Since it’s been years.”

Jason meanders toward the kitchen counter, noting a few new visible scars on Barbara’s face and arms. When she leverages herself out of her wheelchair and into one of the kitchen chairs, he realizes just how much taller than her he is now. In his last vivid memory of her, he looks up to her free-flowing red hair, her smirk. Now he cants his chin, staring her down as she laces her fingers together and raises an extremely judgemental eyebrow.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were alive,” Barbara demands.

Jason shrugs. “Well, I wasn’t. ‘N’ then I was and you didn’t care, so.”

Barbara scowls, an action so perfectly familiar that Jason tears up again. What is up with him tonight? Just seeing someone that he knew years ago is enough to make him lose it. Jason busies himself with the cupboards, once again hiding his face from her.

“That’s not even remotely funny, Jason.”

Somewhere underneath the lecturing is genuine hurt. Shame she can’t admit to it, maybe then their conversation would be easier to swallow. (Shame Jason can’t, either).

“How would you feel if you grieved someone you cared about only to find out years later that they were alive and never bothered to tell you? I don’t think I’ve seen Dick smile once since w–”

Jason slams a half-drunk can of soda down on the counter. He’d meant to find something better in the fridge, but right now he can’t even remember taking anything from it.

“‘Course this is about fucking Dick.” Jason loses sight of Barbara’s scowl as his vision swims in radioactive green. “You never gave a damn ab–”

“Just because I love him doesn’t mean I don’t care about you!”

Barbara’s interruption is the sort of truth that couldn’t be tortured out of Jason. Despite everything, he smiles. Just a quick tug at the right corner of his mouth, but a smile nonetheless.

“You tell him that?”

“Shut up.” At least Barbara sounds exasperated, not mad. “His ego’s big enough as it is. Don’t try and change the subject. I don’t get what sort of game you’re playing, letting Steph stay over while running Dick and Bruce and ragged, and avoiding me and Alfred, and threatening Ti–”

Just half-mentioning the Replacement’s name floods Jason’s head with violent green rage. The can of soda crumples in his hands. Whatever soda was left spurts onto the marble countertop, fizzing sadly.

“How can you even pretend to care,” Jason challenges, “when the Joker is still alive?”

When Jason’s vision clears fully, Barbara is watching him knowingly from across the counter, over the plastic frame of her glasses. It’s almost pitying, but Jason knows her just a little too well to believe that.

“Why do you think,” Barbara asks, “I haven’t killed the Joker? For what he did to me. It wasn’t even about me. It was all about getting to Bruce.”

For the first time since Jason came back to Gotham, he falters. There’s so many right answers to that question, but none of them feel like Barbara’s answer. Life-changing injuries, for vigilantes, strip away their identity, their sense of worth. How do you remake yourself in the aftermath? How did Barbara do it without ever seeking revenge? Jason genuinely has no idea.

“You didn’t die,” Jason answers gruffly, feeling every ounce of asshole he is.

“There were times I wish he’d killed me,” Barbara counters calmly.

Biting, helpless fear that Jason has not known since he saw his mom’s last needle billows in his lungs. Not Barbara Gordon. Never. She means too much to too many people. She’s survived too much to just give up.

“Fuck that.” Jason grabs two cans of soda from the fridge and slides one over the counter to her. “Don’t let that sack of shit win.”

Barbara cracks open her can, then lifts it to hide a tired smile. “You know that’d be what Bruce killing the Joker would do. Letting him win.”

“Fuck that.” Jason places both palms flat on the counter so he won’t spill this soda. He breathes deeply as the green surges. “They’re not fuckin’ comparable. What Joker’s done and just killing the Joker are not the same. That’s not sinkin’ to his level or whatever bullshit, that’s doing this damn city a favor.”

“Let me ask you a question.” Barbara rubs one hand underneath her glasses, scrubbing a loose eyelash off her face. “I’ll probably never fight again. There’ll be experimental technology holding together my spine for the rest of my life. Do you think he should kill the Joker for that?”

“I’d kill him for you,” Jason answers unthinkingly.

(The thought, if Jason had taken the time to think it, is this: Jason can never say I care about you out loud. Todd men love expressing love through acts of violence. Wayne men love unflinching righteousness and devastating justice. Jason is a little too much of both). It’s the truth, though. There aren’t many people he wouldn’t kill if they’d hurt someone he cares about and if said person would appreciate it. He has a short mental list of people to kill for Dick if he ever thinks it would make Dick feel safer and wouldn't make him feel guilty. He’ll kill all of them before returning a single one of Dick’s calls.

“So. Yes.” Barbara taps a finger against her soda can. “So he should die for causing someone Bruce cares about severe injuries. Then he should kill his old friend Harvey Dent, for what he did to Dick. And Black Mask, for what he did to Steph.” Her gaze drops to the red bat defiantly splayed across Jason’s chest. “The Joker, for you. And then he’d kill you, for what you’re planning to do to Tim. And then himself, for killing you.”

He’d kill you for the Replacement.

Time stands still in that little apartment. Gunpowder, Febreze and sticky sweetness emanates from the sweat-slick surfaces. Jason struggles to breathe, but for once, he doesn’t see green. For the first time, he regrets telling them his ruined plan to teach the Replacement a lesson. It made them change the security of Titan’s Tower, for starters. And it makes him sound like a monster.

“It goes nowhere.” Barbara spreads her hands. “It never ends. Please, Jason. Stop hurting yourself. Stop hurting all of us.”

You know he really misses you.

Please, Little Wing. Come home.

Please, Jason. Stop hurting yourself.

Finally, Jason raises his soda can. “To not letting that sack of shit win.”

“To not letting that sack of shit win.” Barbara quirks a crooked smile and raises her own soda in reply.

They throw back their heads and start chugging in unison. Barbara immediately doubles forward, coughing and choking on soda. She slams the can down on the counter and wipes her mouth clean with the back of her free hand.

“Where’d you find this, the League of Assassins? This tastes like ass.”

“Fuck you! It’s a delicacy!”

So maybe Jason can accept his fate as the “I’d kill for you” member of a “live for me” family. It’s more bearable than the alternative: being alone while they worry over him from afar. He’ll even put his plans for the Replacement on indefinite hold.

Steph continues crashing his midnight angst sessions. Barbara adds him to the system she has set up and makes him swear to call for backup if he needs it. (He agrees, but need is a strong word). Jason doesn’t apologize for not telling them he was alive–he doesn’t know how–but he makes up for it by visiting Dick out in Blüdhaven. He even agrees to meet with Alfred in a popular cafe and returns with his head ringing and an armful of teas and snacks.

Best of all is the (unintentional) chokehold he has on Bruce. All he has to do his bat his eyelashes and say something wistful about never graduating high school and Bruce is falling over himself to make him fake identities. The others are all too willing to keep Bruce out of his business. It’s the perfect set up. Jason never would have guessed, when he first came back, that there was family–new family–waiting for him in Gotham. But between the comforting steadiness of Barbara, her willingness to ream him out, his begrudging fondness for his new hellion little sister, and his tumultuous relationship with a brother he loves, Jason thinks he just might stay.

Sometimes Jason even thinks he might forgive Bruce for not killing the Joker. Maybe not soon, and not for many other flaws that Bruce has yet to sort out, but maybe. All his recent musing on Willis Todd and whether that man ever loved anyone has forced Jason to reconsider his stance on love as violence that he didn’t even know he had.

Maybe he and this crazy family idea will be alright. Maybe he’ll forgive his dad. Forgiveness or lack thereof aside, they’ll always be some kind of father and son, for better or worse.

But the one person who Jason will absolutely not forgive is the Replacement.

Jason still has to deal with the Replacement occasionally. By ‘deal’ he means, of course, that he went to the Replacement’s ugly-ass manor house just to mess with him. Being on good-ish terms with Dick, Steph and Barbara doesn’t mean Jason can’t have some fun. He won’t go through with something like Titans’ Tower, not anymore, but he still can’t stand that arrogant, selfish, entitled little rich brat that wriggled his way into Jason’s family, alright? So he’s going to see for himself just how self-deluded that jumped-up Replacement of his is, sue him.

No matter how entitled, the Replacement still has school. He goes to Gotham Academy, the school Jason died attending, and he’s in the grade Jason never got to finish. It’s not until about 4 pm that the Replacement actually gets home, so Jason shows up at 6 pm, expecting to find the Drakes having dinner. Instead, the parents are absent, and the Replacement is eating takeout in one of the many living rooms, while in the middle of a game of cards.

“Ooh! Burn a card! Burn a card!” The Replacement taunts his opponent, a girl Jason just barely recognizes as Bruce’s newest adopted kid.

The girl–Cassandra, Jason thinks, though he hasn’t learned what her traumatic backstory is yet–scowls and slides a card from the bottom of her hand to the bottom of the pile on the rug.

“Your turn,” the Replacement adds.

Cass plays her top card without looking–an eight of spades–and Tim places a ten of diamonds. Then the game accelerates to a pace Jason struggles to understand. There’s a lot of slapping involved. Mostly it looks like they’re just playing cards one after another, until Cass slams her hand down on top of the pile.

“Wait, what?” The Replacement pushes her hand away and checks the top cards. A three of hearts and a three of spades. “Damn, you’re right. Double.”

This time Cass smirks as she scoops up the whole pile. Jason should probably stop spying from the doorway now. He only came to harrass the Replacement a little, not meet Bruce’s new kid. But then she turns her head and stares directly at him, so Jason shrugs mentally and saunters into the living room. He dumps his gun (one of them) on a comfy looking armchair as a sign of peace.

“So. Bruce’s new kid, huh?”

Cass nods once.

Jason plonks himself down on the coffee table. Legs sprawled, his shoe almost touches their playing cards. He ignores the Replacement staring at him in something akin to awe. It’s in turns enraging, confusing and uncomfortable.

“Lemme guess. Dad was an ax murderer, Mom died when you were young?” When Cass just stares at Jason blankly, the faintest hint of embarrassment creeps up on him. He tries again. “How’d you end up with this band of lunatics?”

Cass shrugs. She looks at the Replacement.

“Her bio dad is David Cain,” the Replacement explains, having the audacity to look something akin to sternly at Jason. “Her bio mom is Lady Shiva and she gave her away at birth, but after she escaped Cain–”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jason snaps, through the roaring green the Replacement’s stern look conjures. “What are you, her social worker? She can tell her own story.”

“Right,” says the Replacement, looking satisfyingly ashamed. “Yeah, of course.”

After a beat of silence, with both boys staring at her, Cass raises her hands. It takes Jason a beat too long to realize she’s explaining her story in ASL. Though explaining is a strong word. She makes the sign that Barbara came up with all those years ago, a combination of the sign for bird and the sign for bat, to mean broadly the Gotham vigilantes. Batman, Robin, all the bats and birds who call Gotham home and each other family. Then she makes the sign for good.

Bats good, Cass says. Then she gives Jason this dead-eyed stare that feels like it’s poking around his soul and seeing all his cringe-fail moments, and asks: Why are you so–? But Jason doesn’t recognize the actual adjective.

“She’s asking why you’re so angry,” the Replacement supplies, since he apparently knows more ASL than Jason does. A fact that Jason definitely does not care about at all.

“I’m not angry,” Jason says, you know, like a liar.

#my writing #my fanfiction #jason todd #batfam #batman #batfamily #drabble #snippet #abandoned cause i lost interest so i'm putting it on tumblr #jason and the girls: the fic basically #my fic #antebunny's ficlets

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