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coffeeandcalligraphy · 8 months
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You knew my mother was here | Moth Work
Lonan has stopped paddling. The canoe sits in the middle of the lake, lifeless like a bone in the water. He’s turned so Harrison sees him in profile and can’t tell if it’s relieving or worrying to see his face. Lonan’s jaw is taut, like there are words he wants to say but can’t. Filling up the hollow bone. He blinks slowly, like he’s trying to re-centre himself, his chest quivering with breaths meant to steady him. The water laps at the base of the canoe, whirling like his head. Dark hair tangles down his cheeks like the fingers of a poltergeist.
“You knew my mother was here,” Lonan says.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Research.”
LONAN PORTRAIT TO GRACE (HAUNT?) YOUR DASH!! <3
Excerpt circa 2019.
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pluckyredhead · 6 months
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What the heck is going on in Batman/Gotham War?
I know a lot of people in fandom are confused and/or upset about what's been going on in Gotham War - why is Bruce acting like this, what is Selina doing, why are the Batkids taking sides. So I figured I would fill you all in on what's been happening in Batman and Catwoman since Chip Zdarsky took over with Batman #125, because it has been BONKERS and I have been enjoying the hell out of it.
Below, the quickest summary I can manage while still being comprehensive:
[Content warning: mental illness, abuse, suicide (...ish), LOTS of violence.]
The first arc, "Failsafe," starts with Batman and Robin (Tim, in this case) in pursuit of the Penguin, who is on a killing spree. In the very first issue, Tim gets shot in the neck. Bruce has to take him to the hospital, but first he has to strip him out of his costume and put him in civilian clothes to preserve their secret identities, triggering memories of when he had to do the same to Jason's dead body. There is LITERALLY NO PURPOSE TO ANY OF THIS EXCEPT WHUMP (Tim is back in action with a fucking BAND-AID on his neck very quickly), which is how I knew this was going to be good. Beat Tim up! Make Bruce cry about Jason! I want these men to suffer! (There is also SO much to be said about Tim's own Poor Mental Health Decisions throughout the entirety of Zdarsky's run so far, but that's for a separate meta post.)
Anyway. Bruce leaves Tim in the hospital and goes to confront Penguin, who turns out to be dying of mercury poisoning. He kills himself and makes it look like Batman did it, forcing Bruce to flee. (Penguin actually faked his death and is alive elsewhere under an alias, but that's not important right now.)
In the Batcave, a massive robot called Failsafe emerges. Failsafe attacks Bruce, who usually eats killer robots for breakfast, but he can't seem to get the upper hand on this one. Duke, Cass, Steph, and Dick show up to help, but Failsafe beats them all too, while Tim gets an injured Bruce away and to the Batcave.
In the Batcave, Bruce puts on a weird purple and red Batman costume and a new personality takes over: the Batman of Zur-En-Arrh. Now, Zur has a very complicated history going back to 1958, but for the purposes of this story, all you need to know is that when he was younger, Bruce decided it would be good to hang out in a sensory deprivation chamber until his mind created a secondary personality, Zur, who is essentially Batman without Bruce. Zur is pure efficiency who does not care about anything but the mission. He created Failsafe, for one purpose: to kill Bruce if Bruce ever crossed the line and killed someone. And right now, Failsafe believes that Bruce killed Penguin.
Failsafe nearly kills Tim, which Zur is okay with writing off as an expendable soldier's death, but this causes Bruce to take control of the body back because "Tim isn't my soldier...HE'S MY SON!" (Tim Nation, why are you not ALL OVER this story? It's catnip.)
Babs calls in the JLA (SuperBat fans, you will also want to read Bruce's adoring description of Clark when he shows up), but of course Failsafe has kryptonite, which it stabs Clark with. The League dumps Clark and Bruce into the JLA jet and distracts Failsafe while Tim flies Clark and Bruce to the Fortress of Solitude. Bruce tells Tim he's a good boy and jumps out of the jet and into the ocean so that Tim and Clark will be safe from Failsafe. He's rescued by Arthur, who takes him to Atlantis to heal. THIS HAS ALL ONLY BEEN FOUR ISSUES SO FAR.
Two weeks later, Bruce wakes up to discover that Failsafe has taken over Gotham. He teleports up to the JLA Watchtower on the moon to lure Failsafe there, then blows the Watchtower up, hoping to catch a ride on one of the Javelins. But Failsafe has already destroyed them, so Bruce RIDES A BOOSTER ROCKET BACK TO EARTH, OXYGEN MASK CLAPPED OVER HIS FACE. The whole thing has some powerful Scooty-Puff Jr energy.
The only tricky part is reentry, when Bruce starts to burn up - his costume is fireproof, of course, but his chin is exposed. SO HE TAKES OFF HIS LITTLE BAT-PANTIES AND PUTS THEM OVER HIS HEAD. I swear to god this happened in a real comic book and the entire "Bruce falls off the moon and survives" sequence is utterly delectable goofy nonsense and I truly cannot recall a time I've had more fun reading a comic book.
Anyway, Bruce lands directly outside of the Fortress, BECAUSE OF COURSE HE DOES, and runs inside to find Clark and Tim. While Clark keeps Failsafe distracted, Bruce and Tim program nanobots to inject compassion into Failsafe. I SWEAR TO GOD. They zap him with the nanobots, but Failsafe pulls a high tech space gun out of the Fortress and shoots Bruce with it anyway, apparently disintegrating him. Tim falls to his knees in the snow, weeping. TIM NATION, WAKE UP, THIS RUN IS CANDY FOR YOU.
But of course Bruce isn't dead! That wasn't a killing gun, it was a "zap you into another dimension" gun!!! THAT was the compassion!
So Bruce finds himself in a dystopian alternate Gotham, and I'll be honest, I didn't love this arc ("The Bat-Man of Gotham") as much as I loved "Failsafe," but it has its moments. In this Gotham, Bruce Wayne is dead, so Regular Bruce is like "Oh boy, time to Batman this place up." Also he's plagued by hallucinations of a skeleton version of Jim Gordon who is still wearing a trench coat AND A MUSTACHE. Like I said, it has its moments.
This Gotham is controlled by Arkham, and anyone who is diagnosed as "crazy" is locked up. A new villain, Red Mask, is in charge, and Selina and a Venomed-up Harvey Dent work for him. Bruce teams up with an orphan kid (of course) named Jewel and goes after Red Mask, who turns out to be some guy named Darwin Halliday and ALSO...the Joker. Well, he's the Joker who hasn't been Jokerized yet. But one time he breathed in some chemicals that let him see into the main reality of the DCU (???) and glimpsed Regular Joker and now he wants to build an interdimensional machine to mentally connect with Regular Joker across universes which he assumes will make him insane, NATURALLY.
Bruce attacks Red Mask, who sics a Venomed-up Ghost Maker on him. Ghost Maker cuts off Bruce's right hand. Bruce cauterizes it with an electroshock machine and ties some spikes on it (SERIOUSLY) and goes after Red Mask again. Meanwhile Red Mask mentally connects with an alternate dimensional Joker...but instead of it driving Red Mask insane, he's what drives the Joker insane. Desperate to become the Joker somehow, anyhow, he jumps into the interdimensional portal, and Morally Dubious Alternate Universe Selina kicks Bruce in after him.
Meanwhile, Tim is in full "I KNOW I SAW HIM DIE BUT HE'S NOT DEAD" mode, which: bless. So he teams up with Jon Kent, which...gosh, what an astonishingly boring duo. I love Jon, I love Tim, they're perfectly nice and normal around each other, I'm falling asleep. Anyway Tim fights Toyman for a while and then makes a VERY stupid costume where the entire torso is a giant light-up R, because "I want him to see that Robin is coming to save him." GET A THERAPY, TIM.
Bruce finds himself first in the Michael Keaton Batman universe, then the Red Rain universe, BTAS, Batman Beyond (yes I know they're the same universe but I guess he goes there twice), Silver Age, Kingdom Come, Gotham by Gaslight, and more. Adam West gives him a utility belt. The Dark Knight Returns Bruce builds him a robot hand.
Finally Bruce and Red Mask reach the end of the multiverse, which is a Gotham asteroid floating in space, surrounded by giant Jokerized sharks. LUCKILY BRUCE HAS BAT-SHARK REPELLANT IN HIS ADAM WEST UTILITY BELT!!! Honestly this whole arc was worth it for that moment.
Bruce knocks Red Mask out, but now he's stuck. He has a device from Batman Beyond Bruce to get home, but it's only good for one person, and he can't leave Red Mask there to die. Of course, that's when Tim shows up in his stupid giant glowing R costume and they hug it out, thereby fulfilling but also compounding all of Tim's issues since 1989.
Anyway things are fine now, right? Sure, Bruce is hallucinating that his family is on fire, and the Zur personality is not going neatly back into the box where it's been all these years, and he still has a robot hand (Damian, hilariously, immediately announces that he wants one too), but he's FINE. He is a little bit mad at Selina, because she broke out of jail (she was in jail because she killed her fuckbuddy because he was trying to kill Bruce), and also because she didn't tell him Penguin was alive and that would have stopped Failsafe, and also because Other Selina kicked into another universe. Selina, very fairly, is like "Well I'm not responsible for Other Selinas and also maybe don't build robots to kill yourself with and not tell anyone about them???"
THEN we got Knight Terrors, the summer event in which a villain called Nightmare caused everyone to fall asleep and, uh, have nightmares. Bruce, specifically, had a nightmare that he met an eight-year-old version of himself that vomited up a man-sized bat with a gun for a head. I laughed SO HARD. Bruce also had his body borrowed by Deadman for the duration of the event, so while he endured the psychological toll of nightmares like everyone else, he also endured the physical toll of everything Deadman was doing PLUS the mental toll of being aware of what was happening in the waking world even though he couldn't control his body. As soon as the event was over, he lapsed into a coma so that his body could get some damn rest.
Okay. Now we're up to Gotham War.
(I know, I know. But for all of you who are like "How could Bruce do this???" about Gotham War...*points up* THAT'S HOW. HE IS NOT WELL.)
Bruce awakens from his coma and IMMEDIATELY decides to Fight A Crime even though Babs is like "Maybe don't?" But he can't find any crime, which is...weird. His kids confirm that Gotham's been super quiet since he's been out.
Selina hears that Bruce is awake and is like okay, time to pay the piper. She calls all of the Bats to a meeting and explains that she's the reason crime has been down. See, villains like Joker and Two-Face always have goons, right? But what if the goon supply dried up because the goons have better jobs? So Selina has trained All The Goons In Gotham to be...cat burglars. No violence, no stealing from anyone who can't afford it. More importantly, no helping Scarecrow or whoever commit mass murder.
All of the Batkids are like "Hmm...I feel uncertain about this, but it's working...I don't know what to think..." except for Jason, who thinks it's hilarious and is instantly Team Selina, and Damian, who is staunchly Team Bruce. Bruce, meanwhile, is like "No! NO! THIS IS CRIMES, AND CRIMES IS BAD!" and Selina's like "I mean, robbing from the rich is basically a victimless crime" and Bruce screams, I swear to god, "MY PARENTS WERE 'RICH'!" Inexplicable scare quotes and all. I laughed so hard.
Anyway this is the basis for Gotham War and it is endlessly hilarious to me because everyone in the Batfamily is supposed to be a genius and yet not one single character has pointed out that:
There are jobs the goons could be doing that AREN'T illegal. It's not just violent crime vs. nonviolent crime. There are in fact many other jobs! I am POSITIVE Gotham needs construction workers and hospital orderlies. (Yes, I know it's hard for people with records to get jobs. That isn't addressed.)
Being Batman is SUPER ILLEGAL.
They are all so stupid.
Selina's plan doesn't even work, because one of her thieves gets killed by a rich person defending their home, and Bruce is like "See? This is why crime is bad!" and like...pretty much snaps. He's particularly fixated on Jason, even (rhetorically) threatening to kill him, which is when the other kids jump into the fray on Jason's side, all except for Damian, who like I said is firmly Team Bruce. (This makes complete sense to me, Damian has been dealing with severe trauma and isolation pretty much nonstop since 2018 and he and Bruce have finally made a tenuous peace, so I can understand why he wouldn't want to lose that.)
Also, Vandal Savage buys Wayne Manor. It's so random and SO funny.
OKAY BATMAN #138. Bruce has kidnapped Jason and injected him with a variation on fear toxin which will be triggered whenever Jason's adrenaline spikes, the idea being that Jason is no longer capable of killing - but in practice, Jason is no longer capable of even getting up off the floor, he's so terrified. I want to be really, really clear here: Bruce is like 90% Zur here, and the only reason he goes this route and doesn't kill Jason is because the remaining 10% that's still Bruce loves Jason and is trying to help him. He's just incapable of good or humane help because Zur literally can't do feelings.
Dick knows something is up and is sneaking around Bruce's Secret Other House We've Never Heard Of to figure out what it is. Damian attacks him to protect Bruce. Tim attacks Damian so that Dick can do what he needs to do, and handcuffs Damian to a parking meter:
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THERE IS SO MUCH TO UNPACK HERE!!! TIM GO TO THERAPY! DAMIAN GO TO THERAPY! EVERYONE GO TO THERAPY!!!!!
Dick figures out what Bruce did to Jason (it's on the computer, for...some reason?) and absolutely loses his shit on Bruce, beating the crap out of him, which tbh is the only thing that felt off to me in this run because frankly I don't think Dick likes Jason that much. BUT WHATEVER.
Tim pulls Dick off of Bruce. Bruce leaves them both tangled in a net and flees as the cops approach. Zur's like "Good, fuck 'em" in Bruce's head, because the cops will expose Dick, Tim, and Damian's secret identities and Bruce will be free of the dead weight of a family, but the little bit of Bruce still in there throws Dick a batarang so he can free them all in time.
Then Bruce leaves. Damian is devastated.
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I WILL NEVER RECOVER FROM THIS PAGE. Damian really thought he could have Bruce's love and loyalty if he turned on everyone else! Tim is going to be a therapy dog to a Wayne even if he has to settle for the one he doesn't like! That unresisting, blank hug made me SCREAM when I turned the page. Incredible. (Also the art fucking S L A P S, god bless you Jorge Jimenez.)
ALSO it turns out that Selina's second in command has been Vandal Savage's daughter Scandal Savage the whole time and they are turning Selina's cat burglar army into their own personal army WHOOPS. (This also feels very OOC for Scandal but at this point I trust Zdarsky with my life so let's see where things go.)
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SO THAT'S WHAT'S GOING ON IN GOTHAM WAR. TL;DR:
Bruce is unhinged because he nearly died like 19 times in a week and it unlocked the smaller, meaner purple Batman that lives inside him.
Selina is unaware that you can get money legally.
Tim is going to have a nervous breakdown if he can't fix someone, ANYONE.
Damian needs a hug but ideally from someone he actually likes this time.
Jason is so scared.
THE END.
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confessedlyfannish · 6 months
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DP x DC Writing Prompt #9
"Are you sure about this?" J'onn asks, reading the discontent amongst the Kents. Clark and Lois each have a hand on their teenage son's shoulders, who several weeks prior was aged ten years old.
"We're sure," Clark says. He is not, nor is his wife. But his son is, who lays his hand on his mother's and squeezes. It is that surety that J'onn honors as he delves into the young (but not as young as he should be) man's mind.
The memories are hard to find but not gone, hidden behind what Jon can only see manifested as a glowing green wall. When he raises a tentative hand, the shield sparks green, but does no harm. Pushing through is like wading through the consistency of jello, which he finds an overall unpleasant experience. But he is unharmed as he passes through.
Before J'onn can sort through the memories he is all but sucked into the one at the forefront, where a Jon most similar in visage to the one recently returned perches on the edge of a building. Beside him lies a burger, partially unwrapped though uneaten, and a small soda.
As the memory builds out a sun sets on a small suburban town, and a muscled thigh knocks into Jon's, an older man with a shock of white hair and eyes the same light and color as the shield formed around these memories appearing. He's tall even sitting, likely about as tall as Superman, and looks to be in his thirties. A full body suit comprised of black and silver accents stretches across broad shoulders, a stylized D on his chest. He knocks his thigh into Jon's again.
"You said I couldn't go back," Jon says quietly.
"I lied," the man says lightly.
"You're lying now," Jon says, glaring at him. "I can hear your heart."
"Nice try, kiddo, I don't have a heart in this form," the man says, reaching a hand out, presumably to ruffle his hair. Jon dodges.
"I know you're lying. You would've told me. You would've helped me get home."
"Jon--"
"You're protecting Clockwork, aren't you?" Jon demands, eyes beginning to burn red. "That old coot decided it wasn't enough to play with you, he had to play with me too."
The man slaps a hand over Jon's eyes. "Breathe, like we practiced," he instructs firmly. Steam rises from where his palm meets Jon's eyes, but if it hurts he shows no indication. "In, 2, 3. Out, 2, 3."
Jon whimpers but heaves a breath, and the burst of red light dies down from between the man's fingers. His hand moves down to Jon's shoulder.
"I can't pretend to understand Clockwork's decisions," the man says, as tears begin to pool in Jon's eyes. "Frankly, I don't want to. I suspect they are hard decisions to make, sometimes."
"I don't get why you defend him," Jon says. "Dumbledore acting bastard."
"Language," the man says, lightly bopping him on the head. J'onn notes the boy actually winces, as if the blow hurts.
"I am upset with him, I hope you know that," the man continues. "But at the end of the day I'm also grateful. Because I got to meet you." He hooks an arm around Jon's shoulders, pulling him in. "And now you'll get to see your family again. And Sally, Arnold, and Damian!"
Jon sniffles, rubbing roughly at his face. He leans into the man's bicep. A trusted adult figure, then. One he's described his life to. A life, J'onn is sad to note, he appears to have lived for the past six years, as opposed to a sudden shift in appearance. Jon's next question all but confirm it: "Can I really go back? It's been so long. They'll be all grown up."
"Hey, of course you can," the man says, rubbing his shoulder. "I'm sure they've missed you so much. They'll be so happy to see you again."
Jon starts to smile. "I'm going home."
"You're going home!" The man laughs, shaking him.
"I can finally eat some decent barbecue again!"
"Hey!" the man protests, "The smoker blew up one time!"
Jon continues, beginning to get excited. "And Ma will make her jalapeño cornbread! I never could get it right, I can't wait for you to try it!"
J'onn notes the older man's smile fading, eyes growing sad.
"And Damian will definitely want to spar and oh, oh! With you on our side we can totally prank Batman! I bet Alfred will even help! And Mom gives the best hugs, Pops comes really close but Mom will be really excited to meet you, everyone will."
"Jon," The man says.
"I knew you'd be worried about it, but they'll want to meet you," Jon says, clocking his expression. "They'll be grateful. You, you helped me. You kept me safe and taught me how to be Superman. They'll love you, I promise."
"Jon, I can't go with you," the man says gently.
"I'm not saying you stay, but you can visit! I'm sure the Justice League can figure out a way to maintain a portal, they're super used to all that multiverse stuff. Once they have the coordinates, you can stop by whenever!"
"I can't go through the portal, Jon," the man says. "To other worlds, I'm a god. And gods can't interfere. The only reason I can continue to live here is because this is the world of my origin."
Jon gapes at him. "But--but,"
"You're going to see your Mom and Dad again," the man says. "And your brother, and grandparents."
"I can come here, then," Jon says desperately, pushing his way out of the man's arms. The man is already shaking his head. "I can!"
"You can't."
"Why, because Clockwork says so? He's a liar!"
"Because multiverse travel is never a good idea. If you got trapped here again--"
"I wouldn't,"
"You belong with your family,"
"You're my family!" Jon cries. The man freezes. "You, and Sam, and Jazz, and Tucker and Val and Ellie and Pops and Mads, you're all my family! I can't just leave you, I won't!"
"Oh kiddo," The man says, eyes wet. "I love you too. We all do."
"So I'll stay," Jon says decisively. "For all we know my world is a wasteland. Gramps wasn't exactly right in the head when I left. It's better to stay here."
J'onn notes a green vine unwinding from a nearby trellis. It slides down the eave towards the pair.
"You don't mean that," the man is saying.
"I'm sixteen. I can make my own decisions. I'm staying."
The man cups Jon's face. "Your parents did not have a choice in losing you. I'm willing to bet they're devastated. Because I'd be devastated, losing a kid as great as you."
"Maybe they're not even there," Jon says, but the words are half-hearted, and it clearly hurts him to say them.
"I know I seem like a pushover, but if I thought Clockwork was sending you back to anything less than your loving family, I'd destroy him first. And he knows that. They're going to be there, I promise."
"I don't want to go," Jon says. Behind him, the vine rises from the eave of its own will, poised like a cobra enchanted by a snark charmer.
"I know," the man says, eyes drifting to the vine. "I'm so sorry, Jon."
"For what?" Jon asks, as the vine attaches itself to the nape of his neck. His eyes roll back as he collapses into the man's arms. The man hugs him tighter than is strictly necessary.
J'onn expects the memory to now end, alongside Jon's consciousness. To his curiosity, it does not.
"For what it's worth," a young woman spits bitterly, vines supporting her weight as she slips over the side of the roof. "I still think this is horrible." Her eyes are red and miserable.
"Seriously, team punching Dumbledore in the face," A young black man says, appearing in the air supported by a woman almost identical in appearance to the man holding Jon, down to the suit colors. They land on the rooftop.
"Are you sure about this," the dark haired woman with powers over plants asks. "Because to be honest, Danny, I'm five seconds away from punching you in the face."
"Jazz won't speak to you for months," the girl, likely his sister, points out.
"Make it a year," the man says, crossing his arms.
The man, Danny, ignores them all. He cards a hand through Jon's hair. "He'll retain the experience, but not the memories?"
"Yes, he'll be a perfect little superhero, just as you taught him," the woman says, vines twisting agitatedly around her, wrapping around her thigh, wrists and neck almost punishingly.
"Sam," the man says. "He needs to go home. All of you know that."
"He doesn't have to forget us to do so!" the sister bursts, eyes flashing green.
"Remembering would be a torment," Danny says. "He'll know he was loved. That's enough."
"Danny," the plant woman says, sitting beside them both. She puts a gentle hand on his, both on Jon's back. "This is just a different torment."
"And if someone finds out?" Danny asks. He has been patient amidst their scorn, but now a tiny edge ekes into his voice. "A god's child, unprotected? Threatened? He would never stop looking for a way back, and being vocal about it could get him killed."
The others are silent.
"He'll be home. He'll be happy," Danny says. More powerful than a prayer. A directive. He raises his head past the child slumbering in his lap, past them all, face hardening, and says to J'onn: "And you will say nothing."
J'onn takes a step back, fear so thick he could choke on it flooding his very being. Thismanwillkillhim, thismanwillkillhim.
This man will reach through dimensions and kill him.
"Now, get the fuck out of my kid's head," Danny snarls. J'onn is pushed back with enough force he enters his own mind in a vicious whirl that leaves him physically on the floor, gasping.
"I'm sorry," he says as Superman rushes to lift him, and he's not sure who he's apologizing to. Green eyes will pierce his dreams. Vines will crush his throat in his nightmares, screaming silence, silence.
You will say nothing.
"I'm sorry," J'onn says, politely pushing Clark's hands away as he rises. He's already beginning to calm, because he understands. Those are consequences he will not face. He will do as directed. He looks at Jon Kent, bewildered but unharmed, clutching his mother's hand.
J'onn reaches down and dusts at his pants. "I'm sorry," he says evenly, ready to spin his tale. Perhaps the Kents will continue to seek their answers. Perhaps not. He will stay out of it either way. He has been warned.
You were loved by gods. And to keep you safe, they would quiet us all.
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schrijverr · 4 months
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It Just Hits Different When It’s Batman
5 times a League member heard Batman use slang + 1 time they knew where the fuck he got it from.
This fic is based off this post by @wednesday-if-it-was-tuesday bc it was just too good! Hope you don't mind :D
On AO3.
Ships: none
Warnings: none
~~~~~
1. Flash
Barry is pretty sure he has to get his hearing checked as he speeds through a city, trying to find a series of bombs, courtesy of a new alliance of villains. He and Batman are on bomb duty, thus sharing a private com line as to not distract the others or be distracted as they coordinate.
However, Barry is very much distracted by his own partner in this whole mess, because unless he’s gotten a few too many hits to the head in recent years, he’s pretty sure Batman just reported: “The bombs look like yassified thermos flasks.”
“What?” Barry chokes, nearly tripping over his own feet as he does.
Batman doesn’t seem to notice, instead explaining the bomb, not his wording: “The casing looks to be made from plastic, likely to escape Superman’s notice. Start checking water pipes, I found this one near a toilet. I’ll report again once I figure out how to disarm it.”
Okay, questing his sanity later, finding bombs, now.
So he zooms off again, having to agree with the fact that the bomb does look like a yassified thermos flask. He wonders if he can use that in his report or if Batman will scold him for language. He has worked with the man for long enough that he knows Batman isn’t above hypocrisy.
Then he wonders again if he even heard it right. In the heat of battle, the brain sometimes does weird things, especially when someone thinks at the speed of light. Or faster.
He’ll put it out of his mind for now, maybe tell Hal about it just so he’ll have someone to share the bizarre experience with.
Clark probably has a thesaurus, he should probably also find a synonym for yassified. Does a thesaurus have slang too?
2. Green Lantern
It’s true that Barry had told him about Spooky saying yassified in that one battle, but Hal hadn’t truly believed that Bats was capable of something like that. I mean, look at him. The guy might be a weirdo who dresses up as a Bat, but he’s not a weirdo who says shit like yassified.
However, at the moment it is starting to look more and more likely. Fuck, Barry is gonna give him so much crap for not believing him.
The moment in question is Batman working with him on the stealth mission. It’s one for the Green Lantern Corps, so Batman is doing him a favor. Though Hal is starting to wish that he hadn’t done him that favor, because Batman has just said: “It looks like Luthor is being thristy for Superman again. For someone who hates the guy, he sure wants his attention a lot. That’s Kryptonian honing device.”
Hal doesn’t react, still thinking about the fact that he’s just heard Luthor, thirsty and Superman in one sentence. In Batman’s voice no less.
“What?” he says.
“A Kryptonian honing device,” Batman repeats, sounding as if he thinks Hal is stupid, not uncommon. “So he can hone in on Superman, find him. Something we need to do something about.”
Hal decides to take the smart way out and lets the whole thing drop in favor of focusing on the mission. He’s not just telling Barry, but Ollie about this as well.
3. Cyborg
Being in the Justice League isn’t much different than being on the Teen Titans. Like right now, being in a building that could explode at any moment unless he hacks into the system and stops that from happening.
Ah, good old life-threatening pressure.
Batman is fighting some of the goons in the background. They’re on their own here, with the others fighting through an army outside to get to them. But it’s mostly up to them. Batman yells: “Cyborg, status.”
“I’m getting through, but something is bugging me about this whole thing,” Victor calls back. “I think there is someone I’m missing that will allow me to crack this.”
There are a few grunts in the background as Batman fights on, while Victor starts to scan through everyone who worked for the organization, trying to find the missing link.
He is interrupted by Batman, who says: “I took a tour here once. There was an intern, Kyle Paulson, he was kind of sus. Look him up.”
For a second, Victor is thrown by the sus in that sentence, but he quickly focuses back on what’s important. Indeed finding Kyle to be the missing link that gets him to disarm the bomb. While Batman is taking out the last of the bad guys.
In fact, the whole thing slips his mind until he’s writing his mission report, going through the footage to get accurate information in there. Then he pauses again, before dismissing it. Those who trained under Batman are always prepared, maybe it’s not slang but shorthand to be useful in the moment. Or he’s trying to include him, sweet, though unnecessary.
Victor puts it out of his mind.
4. Green Arrow
Ollie doesn’t believe Barry or Hal for a second. Like, really? Batman using slang that the sidekicks are using?
Sure, Nightwing sometimes uses some here and there, but Red Robin is always very professional and Robin is closer to a Shakespearean actor than a TikTok teen. There isn’t anyone else he could have gotten it from and it doesn’t make sense with his whole ‘I am the Night’-persona.
Victor suggested it was to make the newbies more comfortable when he overheard them talking, but that’s even more ridiculous in Ollie’s opinion.
So, he’s not at all in the slightest prepared for Batman’s reaction when he shows him the new arrows he developed. Because Batman’s reaction is: “Hm, serves cunt.”
“Excuse me, what?” Ollie says, his eyes nearly bulging out of his skull.
Batman just stares at him, then in a confused sort of voice goes: “You know, it slays? It’s, you know, good? Positive.”
“Huh, what? No, I- I know what that means. How the fuck do you know?” Ollie splutters.
“I’m Batman,” is all he says. Then he walks away and leaves Ollie to stand there, still frozen in time, because what the hell was that? Batman can’t just do that, can he? That’s illegal. How does he even know that?
What Ollie doesn’t know, is that this was a calculated move. Bruce had overheard the three talking as well and decided to have a little fun. All the times before, it just slipped out in the heat of battle, but this one was purposeful.
Bruce knows Ollie would know what it meant, because billionaires Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen have done TikTok trends in the past and try to keep up to date, despite their age. Not that Ollie knows it’s him under there.
And last gala, he left Bruce for the wolves – Vicky Vale – so now Bruce is dealing psychological damage to him as petty revenge.
5. Superman (and Practically the Entire League)
They’re in a meeting with most of the Justice League members that are present on earth at the moment. It’s not often they hold such meetings, since they are a little overwhelming and tend to drag on more than be productive.
However, Clark thinks it’s important to ensure there are avenues through which ever member can state their piece and be heard. So, here they are again.
Booster Gold is complaining about always being on the sidelines and never in the heat of the action, even though he’s a great hero. He’s claiming that there is a bias against younger heroes, despite the fact that the ‘old guard’ will have to give it up eventually.
Apparently, Batman has had enough, because he gets up and snaps: “We don’t have bias based on age, we have one based off skill. Maybe if you stopped abandoning your post and being someone reliable, you might get put out in the field more often. Now stop being salty about it.”
It’s silent.
Clark is scrambling his brain, to figure out the meaning. As a journalist he tries to stay up to date on current language use, however, the only person he’s heard use that word is Jon. The boy never explained, but Clark guessed what it means. Doesn’t explain why Batman knows it.
Then the silence gets broken by a snort, everyone’s head whipping towards the source. It’s Nightwing, a newer addition and one affiliated with Batman himself. The only one there brave enough to laugh at Batman, mirthfully asking: “Did you actually say salty?”
There is no change on Batman’s face, but as a longtime friend, Clark knows he isn’t emotionless. Indeed, when he listens close, he can hear the blood rush to his face, blush hidden by the cowl.
“That was not the point of the sentence, Nightwing,” Batman counters, the name a little bit pointed on is tongue.
“Okay, okay,” Nightwing grins easily, showing his hands in surrender, an act which is made null by him adding: “Just pointing out that this is an official meeting. You’re on the record and you know I’m reporting this to the others.”
Red Robin and Robin, Clark fills in mentally, the other two known associates. Everyone already guessed that Nightwing must be close to them as well, since the younger two are closer to being Batman’s children. Now that is confirmed.
“Thank you for reminding me,” Batman says tersely, before quickly pivoting to the next point on the agenda. No one calls him out for it.
However, just because no one calls him out on it, doesn’t mean they drop it. In the weeks after the incident, whispers make their way through the halls of the Watchtower as people speculate why or how Batman came to use the word salty and how out of character it is.
Clark can hear the gossip all over the Watchtower and he’s sure Batman is aware of it too, because some brave souls have asked about. Especially when some of the others talked about the incident not being the first one.
Batman hasn’t replied yet to any of the questions or rumors. Clark thinks he likes the mystery and chaos, likes that they don’t know why the hell he sometimes lets slang slip. Even Nightwing has been seemingly silenced, never commenting with a sort of professional ease at evasion.
Nightwing is the only clue they have, along with Robin and Red Robin, but none of them seem like the culprit.
It just doesn’t make sense and Clark can’t help but have his reporter brain itch.
+1. The Batfamily
There is going to be an attack somewhere in a major city in America tonight. They cannot figure out where, so there is a nation wide stake out at all the important places. Nearly the entire Justice League has been pulled out for it and even then they don’t have enough.
Batman insists on having a skeleton crew remain on the Watchtower in case the threat turns out to be a distraction. And when it is protested, he pulls out an army of associates none of them have ever heard about to fill out the last gaps in their observational net.
The sudden introduction of about six new Gotham vigilantes, which have apparently been operating inside the city as well as outside of it, would have been the main shock if it weren’t for how they are on coms.
Red Robin and Nightwing are known as professionals like Batman, while Robin isn’t a known entity in missions, though those who have met him, know him to be serious. However, with the introduction of the others all of that professionalism melts away.
It starts about 45 minuted into their mission when Spoiler’s voice suddenly crackles over the coms: “I fucking hate stake outs, they’re so boring.”
“I know right, my ass is starting to hurt,” Red Robin – to everyone’s surprise – replies.
“No chatter on the coms,” Batman dutifully reproaches like he always does, but he sounds less stern this time. It’s as if he knows they won’t listen, but says it because it’s his role to do so.
Red Hood ignores Batman completely, idly commenting: “I don’t know, stake outs always hit different for me.”
“That’s just because you’re boring AF,” Spoiler says, an eyeroll practically audible.
“Oi, take that back,” Red Hood says, offended. “I didn’t die to have you slander my name like that!”
This is horrifying news for most of the other people stuck on the coms, however, there is a cacophony of annoyed groans as well. Why anyone would be so blasé about someone mentioning their death, they don’t know.
Until, Robin says: “Cease mentioning your death as excuse. It’s unbecoming to be so reliant on one measly event. You’re not the only one who has died, don’t be – what was it? – ah, yes, don’t be basic, Hood.”
“Yeah, Hood, don’t be salty just because you’re becoming a boring old man,” Red Robin pipes up, sounding smug. That solves the salty mystery.
“Shut up, Replacement,” Red Hood huffs. “I can talk about my death as much as I want to and you can’t stop me.”
“Hood, please, stop talking about your death, you’re going to make B sad,” Nightwing suddenly interjects, stopping the conversation before it can get out of hand.
Those with super hearing will hear Barry mutter in a shocked manner: “Is he talking about Batman?” But he is overshadowed by most of the newly introduced (and already) known Bat-associates booing loudly.
“Don’t be a fucking suck up, Dick” Spoiler hollers, only those in the know picking up on the fact it’s his name. It’s the only time Batman won’t correct them, because not everyone will know it’s a name unless it’s pointed out.
“Periodt,” the quiet voice of Black Bat supports Spoiler.
“Hell yeah, that’s what I’m talking about, BB,” Spoiler cheers when she hears the other girl.
“That was the correct usage?” Black Bat asks.
“It was, well done,” Oracle’s kind voice comes over the coms, from where she is in her lair helping with coordination.
After that it all quiets down again for about half an hour, then Bluebird breaks the quiet again, complaining: “I can’t believe I had to stay behind in Gotham of all places.”
“You live there. Willingly,” Signal answers. “And I had to stay behind too, you know.”
“They’re sleeping on us, Signal, be upset with me,” Bluebird exclaims, indignantly.
“Okay, but tea though,” Spoiler says, most of the Justice League listening in are starting to learn she likes stirring the pot a little.
“Don’t be a simp, Spoils,” Red Robin says.
“Oh, look who’s talking about being a simp,” Red Hood snorts loudly. “I observed you, loser boy, you’re the simp.”
“It’s not as much of the serve you think it is to admit to stalking me,” Red Robin deadpans.
“RR, not to be that bitch, but you’re the OG stalker, maybe- maybe don’t do that,” Nightwing says cautiously, which is apparently funny enough that multiple people start laughing.
Meanwhile Red Robin complains: “Stop laughing at me, when I did it was totally different, I didn’t plan on killing any of you.” Which is mildly disturbing
“Oi, I never planned to actually kill you-kill you either,” Red Hood protests, even more disturbing. The Justice League is starting to wonder why Batman works with the man.
“Stop with the chatter,” Batman interjects again, before it can go further. “It’s not just us on the com lines now. At least try to be professional.”
And much to the horror of the League, who could never imagine doing such a thing, Batman gets booed. Again. This time directly.
Then to add to the horror, Batman doesn’t explode in anger, like everyone would have imagined, instead he just sighs. Defeated. Batman is like a cockroach, he doesn’t get defeated. However, these kids are managing.
Batman remains defeated too, because the Gotham vigilantes continue to idly chat all throughout the next hour. They are definitely bat associated, because they never reveal any information that could be tied to their civilian identity. Instead discussing other missions, general news, funny things they saw on patrol and personal grievances with the others on the line.
If this is what Batman deals with on the day to day, some are starting to see why he would prefer the heroes of the Justice League to keep their mouths shut on missions unless it’s important.
Most try to tune it out and focus on their own stake out, though the voices keep them awake. But they notice when Spoiler’s voice suddenly becomes serious as she reports: “Sus individuals moving towards the Mayor’s office.”
“Received, getting visual on your location,” Oracle’s voice replies, also snapped back into professionalism.
Spoiler reports their appearances and currently location, until Oracle has them, running a check on them, before confirming they have a criminal record and might be thugs for hire. Spoiler says: “I am going to move in.”
Batman says: “Do not engage, Spoiler, they could be a decoy. Try and get more information first.”
“Alright, alright,” Spoiler huffs. Then adds petulantly: “I’m not gonna do it, I was just thinking about it.”
Which sounds pretty reasonable for most listening in, who aren’t of the right age group to know the meme. Batman, however, does know, because he’s been subjected to it multiple times. So, he yells: “Spoiler, no!” startling some members.
A second later, there are sounds of a fight and Spoiler gleefully saying: “I did it.”
Batman lets out a frustrated growl, but Spoiler pays it no mind and she can’t truly get chewed out, because more and more start to report suspicious individuals moving in on the targets they’re watching.
Within minutes of it starting, Nightwing reports: “They’re decoys with targets. Not the main attack, but will do damage if they succeed.”
“Everyone make sure to take out the decoys,” Batman says. “Those without decoys, keep your eyes peeled, you might be at the real target.”
“Done with my targets, moving to help the others now,” Nightwing reports seriously, before he adds: “And can I just say that I’m the GOAT. Dibs on cookies for finishing first.”
“Okay, shade much,” Bluebird says.
“Don’t be arrogant, it’s unbecoming,” Robin retorts as well.
“Yeah, stop flexing,” Spoiler adds. “I’ve wrapped up too, by the way. You’re not special.”
“Let me have this,” Nightwing complains. “You already took all my shit, let me be cool. You all used to think I was cool.”
“Yeah, used to,” Red Hood scoffs. “Then we all realized you’re a looser.”
“Ha, get wrecked,” Red Robin snorts.
“Baby bird, wasn’t I your favorite?” Nightwing asks hurt, though over the top enough to show he is faking it.
“No, sadly, that was Hood,” Red Robin replies, sounding a little like he’s grimacing.
“No cap?” Red Hood asks, surprised.
“No cap,” Red Robin confirms.
“Now I feel kind of bad for you,” Red Hood says, before some bullets are fired. “Wrapped up here, moving to help.”
Red Robin seems glad to not have to reply and none of the other Gothamites do either. With what the League has heard so far, they’re also kind of happy the topic is being dropped, unsure what to think.
Batman’s associates are among the first ones cleaning up, however, soon others are joining them and the true battles grounds – yes, there are multiple targets, these people are organized (Batman will likely obsess until he has tracked down their organization afterwards) – are discovered and heroes move in to fight them.
Throughout the battle, everyone catches snippets of this strange, newly introduced group. A group, who works well together, like an oiled machine, yet obviously made up of highly competent parts that can act on their own as well.
Like Black Bat calling out: “Red Hood, yeet,” before those fighting alongside them see Red Hood boost her into the air, so she can come flying at the terrorists.
But they also make comments about the people they’re fighting and the others that are fighting alongside them.
Signal calling out: “Bluebird is pulling some sick ass moves. Another one for her on the slay-board, Oracle.”
Or Spoiler commenting: “Okay, not to be like that or whatever, but these terrorists are kind of looking snatched.”
To which Batman sighs: “Spoiler, please, no chatter,” in a vain attempt to get them under control.
“What?” Spoiler says. “I can appreciate when they’ve at least tried to pull a fit instead of that usual para-military, ninja type BS.”
“Go off,” Black Bat pipes up again and Spoiler cheers while Batman drops it. Defeated again.
They also check in on each other, with Red Robin hissing in pain, which is immediately followed by Nightwing going: “RR, you good, fam?”
“Gucci,” Red Robin replies. “Just low-key got stabbed.”
“There’s nothing low-key about getting stabbed!” Nightwing exclaims, getting called a hypocrite by many people, while Batman is already calling for Oracle to get a visual and for a medic to head Red Robin’s way.
By the time the battle is over, the Justice League understands how different the team is that Batman usually works with. If they were surrounded by heroes who talked like that continuously, they would have probably picked up some things here and there too.
Still, it fucking weird when Batman checks over his horde, before declaring: “You were all lit out there,” causing multiple of the kids around him to groan loudly, with Bluebird calling Batman a boomer.
Clark, however, sees a small uptick in Batman’s mouth. And in that moment, he knows Batman is doing it on purpose, that he’s enjoying it. That he’s fucking with them. He doesn’t know what to do with that, nor does he think that anyone will believe it. So, he decides to share the amusement and drop it.
They’re never going to figure out Batman.
~~
A/N:
This work is going to get dated so so so fast lmao, but it’s fun rn (if ur commenting in the future, welcome to outdated slang vibes from someone who wasn’t that up to date with current slang when writing it, bc im secretly a grandpa).
Hopefully I didn’t overdo it to an unrealistic degree, but if I did, such is the story that was being told oops
Also this whole fic is just an excuse for me to write batfam banter bc I love it lmao
I didn’t include Batwing, Batwoman and Flamebird here, sorry, but writing the batfam is always so hard bc there are so many characters T-T
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loveshotzz · 2 months
Text
I guess it’s never really over
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mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers
chapter three -
This has got to be the longest crush ever
Robin’s bad date, and a late night that changes everything.
warnings: 18+ A little bit of queer and mid twenties crisis angst for Robin, with comfort obvi. Tension, but are we surprised at this point?, and a secret third thing, wonder what it could be? 😚
wc: 6.3k
authors note: Hi babies! I am taking just a week off from my posting schedule for this week long work trip I’m taking on Monday. There’s lots of conferences and I won’t have much down time. We will resume our normal posting schedule for chapter four starting 3/20 🌻🧡
series masterlist | series playlist
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June -
Would you believe me if I said I’m in love? 
                            Baby, I want you to want me.
You can’t believe you landed yourself in detention.
All your late night study sessions for the SAT’s that led to oversleeping and missed alarms finally catching up to you just like Robin warned you it would. Miss O’Donnell is the one who makes your best friend's predictions come true, handing you that notorious pink slip for walking into her class ten minutes late for the third time this week. 
When you arrive at exactly 3:15, the classroom is mostly empty. Your eyes scan the bored faces of the few students joining you, hoping to at least see Eddie’s familiar head of curls. But of course, today of all days, he’s managed to be on his best behavior or just didn’t get caught. 
Sighing defeated, you give Mr. Clark a tight lipped smile, ignoring the shocked look on his face seeing you in here. Picking an empty desk in the middle away from anyone, you decide to busy yourself with the Algebra homework you’ve been avoiding for the better half of a week. It’s when you lean over to unzip your backpack that you catch the sounds of sneakers squeaking against the ceramic floors.
”Ahh, Mr. Harrington. Even fashionably late to detention, I see. Your hair looks good enough to sit in silence for an hour and a half to me.” Mr. Clark announces the king of Hawkins's grand entrance with the kind of sarcasm that makes you smirk as you start arranging your things on your desk.
“That’s good to know 'cause I was doing it for you Mr. C.”
Steve Harrington always thinks he’s so charming
Snorting as you click your pen, you dare to look up only to catch ‘the hair’ looking right back at you with that golden smile that you’ve seen take even the strongest soldiers out. 
Oh no. 
Eyes going big, you quickly bring your attention back down to your homework, silently hoping he doesn’t take the seat next to you and land you in here next week too. 
“So thoughtful of you. Now why don’t you take a seat and do some studying for that test on Monday. And maybe this semester you won’t have to worry about relying on extra credit to keep playing basketball.” Mr. Clark dismisses him, earning a low whistle from the boy who holds his hands up in surrender, Nike covered feet coming down your row.
No, no, no, NO.
You still don’t look up, rereading the same question over and over again because no matter how many times you try, you’re too distracted by the cedar and clove that invades your senses kicking them into overdrive. The whites of his sneakers catch in your peripherals when he does the unimaginable and sits next to you.
Staring at the equation with the kind of concentration that’ll be sure to give you a migraine later, it takes him a good thirty seconds before he temporarily gives up trying to get your attention to grab something that gives the illusion of studying out of his backpack. 
Trying to play it cool, your stomach twists in nervous knots worse than the ones you get when Robin forces you on the janky rides at the summer fair every year. Sure, you’ve been hit on by a guy here and there, but no one can prepare you for what it’s like to catch Steve Harrington’s attention—especially for someone in your Hawkins hierarchy who would never be on the receiving end of it.
He flips through the pages of his textbook loudly, earning his first warning glare from Mr. Clark, and you decide to write your name on the top of the page so at least it looks like you’re doing something. After a couple bounces of your knee, you can feel the heat of his gaze back on you.
”Psst, hey.” 
The last letter of your name comes out illegible, and you jump at the hushed sound of his voice. Taking a deep breath, you work up the courage to meet his flirtatious smirk and golden brown eyes. The sun leaking through the windows gives you a glimpse of the green that hides inside them from this close. You hate to admit that he’s just as pretty as everyone says he is.
”Hi,” you smile a little shy, offering a small wave of your pen and it lights up his whole face, making your body buzz.
”You have a highlighter I can use or something?” He keeps up his ruse, the whites of his teeth showing in a grin.
You arch an eyebrow at him, something sarcastic reminiscent of Mr. Clark flashing behind your eyes. 
“What? You don’t think I’m actually going to study?” He acts shocked, slapping his giant hand across his chest and it earns the kind of giggle from you that pushes him full steam ahead.
”It’s blue, is that okay?” Giving into the bait, you try and hide the way your face warms, ducking down to dig in the bottom of your backpack.
”Are you kidding? I love blue. Favorite color actually.” Laying it on thick, you can see the way he scoots to the edge of his seat, the spice of his cologne making you bite at your bottom lip as your fingers wrap around what you’re looking for.
Sitting up in your seat, you aren’t expecting him to be so close and it threatens to steal the air right out of your lungs.
”H-here,” you manage, holding the blue writing utensil in the small space that's left between you.
Steve's eyes roam your face freely, pink tongue coming out to wet his full bottom lip before they settle back on your gaze, lids a little heavy, voice low and somehow sticky sweet.
”Thanks, honey.” He leans forward more, purposely brushing his fingers with yours when he takes it out of your grasp, “but now, I’m afraid the only way you’re gonna get it back is to let me drive you home after this.”
“I’ve got plenty, you can keep that one,” you try to stay strong, but when that second giggle slips out, you seal your fate.
”I can’t do that, this is your favorite one.” He tisks like it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard, with a crooked grin that makes you bite the inside of your cheek.
”Is it?”
”Absolutely.”
“Are you two done? Or should we schedule a second date for next week?” Mr. Clark interrupts.
”That would actually be date number three. We’re going on two after this is over.” Steve smirks, throwing you a wink ignoring the harsh way you whisper of his name. 
Yeah… you were fucked.
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“I’ve got a date tonight!” 
Robin sings excitedly, bursting through the front door in a wild ball of energy, successfully waking you up from your nap on the couch. Blinking slowly, as you start to recognize your surroundings, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you force yourself to sit up, wincing at your stiff neck and the fact that you dreamed about Steve Harrington again. 
“A date with who?” You grumble, still a little grouchy, yawning with a stretch that pops in your back.
”This girl that I met at the record store this morning, we talked about Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos for what felt like hours. She’s just, wow, she’s so cool. Almost too cool for me, you know? She’s a senior in college-“
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up.” Cutting her off before she can ramble any longer, you wave your hands for her to stop: “First of all, no one is too cool for you, okay? If anything, it’s always going to be the other way around.”
“Yeah, okay, Steve.”
It takes a minute for her words to sink in about the man you haven’t seen in almost a week and a half, but when they do, the glare that settles on your face makes her laugh. 
“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan with a tight-lipped smirk, before clearing your throat, “Well where are you guys going? Do you want me to go undercover in case you need saving? I’m fully prepared for a stakeout.”
Robin rolls her eyes, but her smile, which spreads wide enough to see all her teeth, gives away her love for your dramatics. 
“No, I don’t need you to go undercover or anything. I mean, it is going to be nice knowing you’ll be here waiting for me to tell you all about it instead of having to call you and hope the city girl answers.” She teases, earning the scoff from you that she was looking for.
“I��m choosing to ignore that, and if at any point you change your mind, you know your own number.”
Earning a genuine laugh from Robin always makes your soul feel lighter, so when your joke lands and you get one, the heaviness of Steve that’s been weighing down on your shoulders eases up just a little bit.
”I’ve just never been approached in public before like that, you know? It’s not just the other girl you know is gay on campus. I don’t know, it feels good.” Your best friend’s confession makes you want to wrap her up in a hug, keeping the urge to remind her of your offer to move to the city with you to yourself for right now, letting her bask in the moment.
”Well, you're hot. Can you blame her? If you weren’t basically like a sister to me, I’d be all over it.” Wiggling your eyebrows, she flips you off, but you still catch the tinge of pink that paints her cheeks rosy.
”Please, Steve would have my head on a stake.” She snorts, purposely trying to get under your skin now.
”Robin.”
”What? I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel in his eye when I mentioned your little ‘adventure’ last week” She giggles, heading towards her bedroom.
If only she knew just how much those words were true. Your thighs meet like in the memory you can’t stop playing on a loop, palms turning sweaty, remembering the velvet of his lips so close to your neck.
”Wait! Did you ask that on purpose?!” You gasp, jumping to your feet to follow her.
”Maybe.”
”Maybe?!”
”You know what I do need help with?” She ignores you, spinning on her heel to meet your narrowed eyes.
”What?”
”Help me pick any outfit?” Pushing out her bottom lip, she gives you the kind of puppy dog eyes that no one in their right mind could say no to.
Sighing heavily, your feet drag on the carpet before flopping yourself onto her bed huffing out a “Fine” as the box springs squeak.
The rest of the day is spent going through what feels like every outfit in Robin’s possession, even getting desperate enough to try on some of your clothes despite your clashing styles. Settling on a pair of boot cut jeans, a black half crop top with a flannel shirt that you’re pretty sure she stole from Steve and the Dr. Martin’s you got her for her birthday last year, she was ready to break hearts. Blue eyes roll in the back of her head when you make her say ‘I’m the prize’ until you feel like she halfway believes it before handing over her I.D. that you’d found stuffed between the cushions of the couch in a frenzied panic to search for it only ten minutes prior.
The sun starts to set on Robin’s small apartment after she finally heads out the door, and the shadows that bounce off the white walls bring back the thoughts of Steve you’d successfully gotten rid of for a few fleeting hours. 
Huffing to yourself with crossed arms, you watch the flat bag of popcorn spin around in the microwave. You can still hear the beginning Moonstruck playing on the TV in the living room, over the loud hum of the machine. Comfortable in an oversized shirt that lands just at the bottoms of your cotton sleep shorts, goosebump dot across your legs from the cool of the A/C. Your skin still tingles everywhere he touched and the week of radio silence feels worse the second time around. 
The shrill sound of Robin’s phone and the first kernel of popcorn exploding in the bag overpower your ears all at once, making you jump. Mumbling cuss words under the now constant sound of popping, you try to calm your heart rate down, wandering to the living room. Your hand hovers over the phone, the realization about who might be on the other line making your stomach drop. He hadn’t called Robin yet. There’s a moment of hesitation, but you take a deep breath, letting the air expand in your lungs, silently counting to three before you grab the phone off its hook.
”Buckley residen-“
”I need you to come get me, I- I’ve made a huge mistake and I’m just so fuck - “ Robin cuts you off, the rasp in her voice cracking like she’s trying not to cry, “I’m just really embarrassed, please come get me.”
“What happened? Where are you? I’m coming, just - just tell me where you are.” Running to her bedroom to grab your sneakers with the phone pressed to your ear, you can hear her sniffle.
”Benningans, it’s the next town over. I’ll be outside -“
”Are you safe?” You panic, slipping your foot into your shoe as quickly as you can.
”I’m safe, I’m just, I’m embar- I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m safe, I’ll be outside.” She mutters.
”I’ll get there as fast as I can, okay?” Feeling a little helpless, you try to ease the hurt that’s evident in her tone with soft reassurance. 
”I’m just, I’m really glad you're here. I’ll see you soon.” She manages to get out before the line clicks dead.
Slipping your second shoe on, the realization that you don’t actually have a car to save her with, hits you like a ton of bricks. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Stomping back to the living room, your eyes find the mustard yellow address book next to the phone’s dock. Your fingers fumble through its pages, eyes squinting as you try to read Robin’s messy writing, searching for a familiar name. You find two:
Eddie and Steve.
You stare at the page, your moral compass going haywire. Despite the way he’s rented a space in your mind, the thought of seeing him alone again makes your stomach twist. Eddie would be simple. Eddie would be easy. Your thumb hovers over the first number in the one she has scribbled down for him, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t bring yourself to press it. She needs Steve.
You groan loudly, stomping your foot for good measure, before letting out a long breath through your nose, dialing his number that you knew you should have all along. 
It only rings twice.
“Whatever it is, the answer is no,” Steve deadpans.
”Is that really how you answer your phone?” You scoff, doing your best to ignore the butterflies you’ve managed to stifle as they start to come alive at the sound of his voice.
“I thought this was - shit, I thought this was Henderson - erm I mean Dustin, you remember Dustin?” He stammers and you know that hand of his is running through his hair right now.
“Yeah, the middle schooler.”
“Well, he’s like nineteen now -“
“I didn’t call you to talk about Dustin, Steve,” You sigh heavily, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “Robin called me really upset from Bennigans, and I don’t have a car or any way to go get her-” 
“I’m on my way.” He cuts you off without any hesitation,“Be outside in five minutes for me?”
”My shoes are already on.”  
After a click, you’re left with the sound of the dial tone in your ear. You hang up the phone as warmth floods your body, easing some of your temporary worries. 
Steve Harrington is making it hard to hate him.
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The short walk to Steve’s BMW from Robin’s front door feels like stepping through a time machine.
One that takes you back to late nights sneaking out your bedroom window, always being extra careful not to wake your parents up so you could go make out with your secret kind of boyfriend under the stars. Those were always your favorite nights with him. The nights he’d put away the king Steve armor, those nights he’d just be Steve. A boy who just wanted to make his father proud, thinking maybe he’d stay home more if he was.
You can feel the way his eyes roam your body, the heat of his stare lingering on your exposed legs, setting your skin on fire. Suddenly more than aware of your lack of pants, only part of you regrets not changing into some leggings, but you try not to think about that too hard right now.
He clears his throat when you open the passenger door, the smell of leather and the dark woody sweet scent of oil surrounding you as you slide into your seat. The spice of his cologne tickles your nose when you close yourself in, clicking your seatbelt in place before daring to meet his eyes. The golden brown inside them shimmers with something you’d missed in the orange glow of the street light and the nerves still feel the same way they did five years ago. The only thing that hasn’t changed.
”Thanks for doing this,” you offer with a weak smile.
When he realizes you’ve put your weapons down for the night, his face softens with a crooked grin, subtle pink dusting the apples of his cheeks.
”I meant it when I said I can’t say no to you,” he starts, selfishly letting his eyes roam the smooth lines of your face that are finally not twisted up into a glare before realizing his slip up, “and Robin, my best friend obviously.”
”Our best friend, Steve.” You tease trying to ignore the tension that crackles in the empty space between you even worse than before.
”Whatever you have to tell yourself,” he winks, forearm flexing as he puts the car in drive.
Scoffing a ‘whatever’ with a playful roll of your eyes, you let your muscles relax into the familiar seat. The Police’s Every Breath You Take spills through the speakers just loud enough to be heard over the low rumble of the engine, and you become hyper aware of his hand resting on the stick shift, the tips of his fingers just close enough to brush against your thigh every time you hit a bump. 
There’s a silence that falls between you once the street lights run out and his full focus shifts to the pitch black road ahead. The quiet is filled with what almost happened in his room, unspoken words that don’t dare to roll off of sober tongues. You wait until he’s too distracted looking for surprises that might run out from the woods on either side of you to let your eyes wander over and really take him in.
A white drawstring hangs low on his heather gray sweatpants that fit tight over his thighs spread wide. Your throat goes dry at the white tank top that hugs his broad chest, the gold chain that wraps around his neck getting lost in the thick patch of curls on display. You’re finally able to really make out more of his tattoo for the first time, thin, precise lines that look like feathers attached to a set of sparrow wings.
”Did she tell you what happened? I mean, is she safe?” He interrupts your greedy stare, eyes lighting up when he catches you, tucking it away for another time.
”Uhh, yeah,” you answer with a shake of your head, teeth biting down on your bottom lip with hot cheeks, “she’s safe, she kept saying she’s embarrassed but wouldn’t tell me why, just kept begging me to come get her.”
He just hums, lost deep in thought of all the things it could be, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens with worry. 
“We’re only ten minutes away, so it won’t be too much longer now.” 
He reassures you, but it feels like he needs it too, especially when his hand leaves the stick shift to run through his hair that looks more tousled than usual, making you wonder if he was lying in bed before this. A worried breath exhales through his nose, with a tight jaw, and you hate the way your stomach drops when both his hands find the steering wheel after he tugs on his roots a little bit. 
Nervous fingers play with the bottoms of your sleep shorts, trying your best not to stare while you keep your gaze out the passenger window. Stolen glances are followed by tight lipped smiles when you’d always find him staring back. Honey and chestnut make your stomach flutter, and you think maybe some things never change. 
It takes less than the ten minutes that Steve promised for the back roads to turn busy, and bright with the kind of lights a small town on a Saturday night has. A slouched frame sitting on the side of the road catches in his headlights, getting closer you see that Robin’s waves have lost all the bounce she left the house with, along with the rosy tint in her cheeks. The flashing Bennigans sign spins a block behind her, and the orange bulbs match the burning ember on the end of her cigarette that dangles from her full lips. 
“Shit, it’s bad if she’s smoking,” Steve mutters, turning on his hazards as he pulls up next to her, the wheels of his car coming to a stop. 
She hollows her cheeks out, taking one last drag, waving at you to stop unbuckling your seat belt as she gets to her feet. Blowing the smoke from her lungs into the wind, she flicks the half smoked butt into the street before opening the back door, sliding into the leather seats with an exasperated huff.
“Just, don’t – I’m okay,” she starts, closing the door and shutting out the whir of the traffic outside. “Turns out her boyfriend’s best friend really likes Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos too. She really thought me and him might hit it off after our talk at the record store today. I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to go home with my two favorite people and feel sorry for myself.”
“Well, you’re in luck,” Steve doesn’t miss a beat. Turning around in his seat, he flashes her his million-dollar Harrington smile. “I’m the king of feeling sorry for myself.”
Her lips twitch, but when she sees the natural roll of your eyes at the boy next to you, it turns into a full blown smile. A little shimmer came through in the dulled-out color of her eyes.
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Got me up all night
            all I’m singing is love songs.
“Honestly, now that I’m thinking about it, this girl sounds like a scammer, Rob. I mean, come on.” Steve snorts, rifling through her cupboards in the kitchen. Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos, what kind of game was she playing at anyway?”
Robin giggles from her place next to you on the couch, her head resting on your shoulder, the green apple of her shampoo still lingering on her curls that tickle your cheek. 
“Plenty of people like those artists, Steve.” She sighs, but you can still hear her smile, “It’s fine, I’ll just stay the lonely Hawkins lesbian for the rest of my life, no big deal.”
”Shut up!”
”Will you stop?!”
You and Steve chide her at the same time, hard eyes meeting from across the living room and softening. He doesn’t even try to stop the lopsided grin that pushes up your favorite cheek and you hope Robin doesn’t feel the way it makes your skin warm. 
“Whatever, I already warned you I’m going to be miserable. Gimmie a break, and you’re actually taking forever in there, by the way.” Whining, she sits up, sending a rush of fruit and leftover tobacco to your nose.
“Yeah, well, I can’t find your peanut butter,” he mutters, opening up the cabinet above the sink, the bottom of his tank top rising enough to see a sliver of sun kissed skin and a few more freckles. Why does it feel like there's always more?
”What are you even making anyway?” you ask, ignoring the way Robin’s head whips around. A smirk spreads wide across her face because you’re actually trying to make conversation with Steve.
“Just a little something that’s going to cure my best friend’s heartbreak,” he winks, the jar of JIF extra crunchy looking extra small in his grasp, twisting the cap off. “We came up with it together, actually.o biggie.”
Your gaze narrows, but he doesn’t miss the way the corners of your mouth twitch, something sparkling inside the dark gold in his eyes.
”Interesting, considering I ran to the store earlier to grab my best friend’s favorite ice cream, just in case.” You counter, something mischievous twisting up your lips. “You didn’t even think to stop and get it on our way home. Some friend.”
Robin’s smile lights up the room, very obviously enjoying the show, maybe even a little too much. Clapping her hands together, she lets out a content sigh before leaning back into the couch cushions.
”I really could get used to this,” she beams, “maybe we should have a contest, see which one of you can do the nicest things for me.”
You can’t stop the snort or the roll of your eyes that has Steve throwing his head back in a fully-bellied laugh, giving you the perfect view of his neck, and only Robin clocks the way your giggles are cut short and the secret way your eyes glaze over.
”I’m not gonna lie as much as I love crunchy peanut butter banana s’mores, I have to say Steve, the fact that she actually called you makes her the winner for the night.” She smirks, chuckling harder when you shove her with a hushed ‘Robin!’
His smile doesn’t fade as he starts to cut banana slices. Big eyes meet yours with the kind of look that threatens to melt you into the couch.
”That’s alright, I’ll be a gracious loser tonight, but just know, honey, I’m very competitive.” He warns, long fingers spreading the fruit evenly throughout the peanut butter that messily coats graham crackers.  
“I don’t like to lose, so it’s fine.” Your quick reply deepens the smile lines in his cheeks, putting the finishing touches on your snacks.
“Yeah, this is definitely the life I was meant to live,” Robin gloats, nudging you, “I’m the prize, right?”
It’s your turn to throw your head back in the kind of laugh that rattles in your rib cage, too distracted to see the lovesick way Steve bites his bottom lip watching you from across the room.
But Robin does.
With a heart so full it might burst, tears threaten to spill from the ocean in her eyes, daydreaming about moments like this, only ever thinking they would be something that stayed trapped in the confines of her mind. The warming feeling of happiness wraps around Robin like a blanket when she gets to sit between you both on the couch. A distant friend she hasn’t seen in a long time, a secret she’s kept mostly to herself. 
With a messy plate of half eaten treats and sticky fingers, she’s content watching Cher and Nicholas Cage fight over how much they love each other. Fully knowing that Steve is sneaking looks at you from over her head, smiling to herself at the nervous way you fiddle with your hands in your lap because of it.
Robin doesn’t fight the exhaustion that starts to make her eyelids heavy just a little halfway through the movie. It’s easy to give in when your body weight relaxes deeper into her side, and how Steve drapes his arm over the back of the couch, tucking you both into his chest with evening breaths.
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You’re warm, cozier than normal, and it surrounds every part of you.
Cheek pressed against something that’s not firm enough to be the couch, you nuzzle yourself deeper, chasing the heat and the sleep that’s threatening to evade you. Your cushion starts to move, making eyes shift behind lids that aren’t ready to open yet. Lashes flutter, feeling the way your leg is slotted between someone else’s, and the warmth of a palm finds the small of your back, pulling you closer.
A deep sigh rumbles in your ear before fingertips lazily trace up and down the dip of your spine. Stubble tickles your forehead, and as coherency starts to come back to you, a softer patch of hair rubs against your cheek. The kind of spice and lingering sunshine that could only come from one person hits your senses, and the white cotton of Steve’s tank top finally becomes visible. 
The shift in your breathing brings his soft touches to a halt, the muscles you’re pressed on your side against stiffening. Realizing your hands are sprawled across his chest, just under your chin, you can feel the way his heart races under your palm. He’s everywhere, and despite the way you’ve told yourself you hate him, your fingers curl into the cotton of his shirt because it feels like home. Toes pressing into his calf, you wind your leg around his tighter, and it turns timid fingertips sure of themselves, tracing patterns between your shoulder blades. You don’t dare look up at him yet, or it would make the way your own hand starts to explore his abs that twitch under your red nails real. 
He feels different than you remember, there's more of him now, harder in spots that used to be soft. Your fingers get greedy, the blunt ends of your nails scratching along the outline of his happy trail, earning a low groan from him that vibrates deep in your core. Those butterflies that have made a permanent home out of you start to stretch their wings, and when they feel the soft velvet of his lips against your forehead, they tickle at your ribcage and kick up your heart rate. You wonder if he can feel it.
It’s the faintest kiss, one that you’re not sure you would’ve even felt if you were asleep, but it makes you lean in closer. Inhaling deeply, tears sting at the corner of your eyes when the familiar scent only makes you crave him more. After years spent denying the existence of his touch from your memory, it’s almost overwhelming to feel it again. 
The muscles in his arm underneath your neck twitch, and the fingers that have been drawing lazy circles on your back move slowly up your shoulder. The backs of them run down your arm before they finally connect with your skin, goosebumps exploding underneath his touch in a ball of electricity that you can feel on the pads of them that start a new path up the loose sleeve of your shirt.
You fiddle with the bottom hem of his tank top, the heat of his body radiating against already flushed skin. Brave fingers dare to dip underneath only to get stopped by a large palm wrapping around your wrist 
“Baby,” there's a hint of a smile and a little bit of grogginess in his voice that gives away that he hasn’t been awake that much longer than you, “I think you should at least look at me before I let you get under my shirt.”
Biting at your bottom lip, you push yourself deeper into his chest, embarrassed, feeling the gentle shake of his body when he laughs. 
“Come on pretty, let me see your face.”
His affection makes your heart swell, and you know what it means if you look him in the eyes. Your nails dig into the cotton, tugging at the fabric a little while you pull yourself together, lashes fluttering against your cheeks, shaking the rest of the sleep. Lifting your head up from its hiding place, you cross the line you promised yourself you wouldn’t, but when you meet the green that shimmers in the darkness of his eyes, and the crooked grin that twists up his full pink lips, it feels good to give in.
Releasing the hold on your wrist, he’s gentle, almost hesitant, when his warm palm cups your cheek. The rough pad of his thumb traces the line of your cheekbone feather light, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. No more armor, fleeting glances, or stolen looks, not when he’s this close and even more handsome in the glow of the moonlight. 
“Beautiful.” He murmurs just loud enough for you to hear, and your legs somehow wrap around his tighter.
”Yeah?” you whisper, your fingers coming up to the play with the gold chain dangling from his neck. “Why didn’t you kiss me then?”
”What?”
”Last week,” 
”That wasn’t the right time,” he sighs, eyes tracing every line of your face like he’s committing it to memory, “It would have ruined it.”
“Ruined what?” You press, twisting the metal between your fingertips, heartbeat ringing in your ears.
“My chance at trying to do this the right way, the way you deserve.” He doesn’t hesitate to say it, like it’s something he’s thought about for years, and it makes your head spin.
“What about now?” 
“That depends,” he hums, the pad of his thumb dragging across the slight pout of your bottom lip, threatening to steal the air from your lungs.
”On?” Your voice comes out just above a whisper. Tilting your chin up, you can still smell the peanut butter on his breath.
”If you want me to.”  He breathes, the tip of his nose running along the length of yours. 
Your hold on his gold chain tightens, pulling him even closer. His eyebrows pinch together when he feels the slightest brush of your lips against his, and he can still taste the sweetness of the banana.
”Please tell me you want me to.” 
The desperation in his voice is enough for you to tug him down, closing what’s left of the small gap, your top lip catching against his full bottom one. Just enough to feel the familiar silk that could leave a wildfire in their wake before you finally speak.
“Kiss me, Steve.”
A groan rattles deep in his chest, and he doesn’t hesitate to do what he’s wanted to since he saw you. Applying just enough pressure to wake up every last butterfly, the tip of his nose pushes into your cheek when he slots his lips with yours. It’s soft at first like he’s testing the waters, taking it slow so he can savor it, just in case you never let him do it again.
He pulls away enough to look at you, chestnut eyes blown out wide, and you hate that you already miss his kiss. Giving into everything you’ve fought for so long, it’s your turn to capture his lips. It stuns him at first, but when you open your mouth, his body melts easily into yours, and that big hand of his moves from your cheek to hold the back of your neck. Tongue swiping boldly across your lower lip, he begs you to let him in.
Moans get hidden, muffled inside each other's mouths after you grant him access, your fingers tangle themselves inside the thick forest of his hair that’s still just as soft as you remember. Nipping at his bottom lip, the grip on the back of your neck tightens and you can feel the way he kicks up in his sweats because of it. Your own thighs threatening close when you’re reminded of what’s between his legs.
“Baby,” he warns in between kisses, feeling the roll of your hips, but you don’t miss the subtle way he tries to meet them with his own.
It’s too easy to get lost in him, and the years it took to move past him make even more sense when your tongue finds his again. Fighting for dominance, you try not to think about the irreversible damage tonight might do to you as you tug at his roots, teeth scraping together, the kiss turns more heated by the second. Years of anger and longing come out in desperate touches. His hand finds its way to your hip, the pads of his fingers brushing against the skin under your shirt, sending a shiver up your spine, letting you roll them one, two, three times before tightening his hold.
He pulls you closer, letting you win before his nose nudges against your cheek, his lips finding the corner of your mouth. Catching his breath, he trails them along your jaw before making his way down your neck. Your chest heaves, fingers turning soft and slowly running through his hair. He hums against your skin, his hand staying under your shirt, the warmth of his palm covering the small of your back, leaving wet kisses on the sensitive spot behind your ear.
”Let me take you on a date,” he whispers, leaving one more under his jaw before pulling back to look at you.
”Steve -“
”Just one,” he begs, bumping his nose with yours, smirking when it makes you smile.
”Let me sleep on it,” you sigh, ducking your head under his chin to hide. Too many thoughts trying to occupy space in your mind with a head still dizzy from his lips.
”I’ll take what I can get,” he laughs, the tips of his fingers starting up the familiar patterns that started all of this, quickly make your eyelids heavy, nuzzling deeper into his chest. You weren’t ready to think about tomorrow yet.
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gay-dorito-dust · 23 days
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Reader being Jason or Dick's girlfriend, who doesn't know about their double life, casually blurting out that she was never a fan of Batman and Robin or that she prefers Superman and the whole family is offended. 😭
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I was tired and failed to realises that this came out a bit like a crack fic in the end but I’m sure you won’t mind…hopefully.
Jason: honestly has too much fun shit talking Bruce to you, especially when you didn’t know the man that you were shit talking as well as he did.
He just found it funny hearing you say with your full chest in front of his family that you prefer the Man of Steel over the Dark Knight.
It sends his entire family in disarray and chaos and Jason was thriving off of it immensely. He does not help the situation at all and would wholeheartedly make things worse for the sake of having something to talk about later.
Dick was borderline catatonic as Duke and Steph were trying to bring him back to reality.
Alfred excused himself from the room.
Damian was sharpening his dinner knife. Menacingly.
Meanwhile Tim was pulling up a long winded power point presentation about how statistically Batman was better than Superman. (In every possibly way, you’re just hating.)
That’s literally the title of his presentation.
‘Did he have this prepared in his free time or?’ You’d ask Jason who shrugs.
‘Let the boy have hobbies peanut, it’s not like he’s got anything better going for him right now.’ He replies, thinking that he should start coming to family dinners more if this was the end result.
Bruce might’ve looked the calmest out of everyone but internally he was cursing out Clark for stealing his future in law. He knew preferences exists and didn’t hold it against you, but currently he was in a disagreement with Clark over a recent mission and it had become a thing where the entire family didn’t dare speak or utter Clark/Superman’s name during this sensitive period.
Once Dick comes back to the land of the living, he’s practically hanging off of you screaming, ‘WHY?!’
Jason has to get involved and remove his brother off of you before he potentially scared you away from future family dinners, even though he himself barely attends any, but the moment you entered his life he wanted you to be more involved with the people in his life that cares about; whether he’d like to admit it or not.
‘They don’t hate me do they?’ You asked Jason by the end of the night, genuinely worried that his family might not like you after tonight.
Jason, noticing this, grabs your hands and grips them tightly in his and gives you a reassuring smile. ‘Babe I’m sure as shit they like you, I mean I’ve never seen them react like that before and if they didn’t like you, they would let you know immediately.’ He tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘Besides, weren’t not a vocal bunch when it comes to our emotions. So seeing them get all up in arms over you preferring Superman and trying to persuade you into thinking otherwise was a highlight for me.’
‘Really you think so?’ You leant into him, still not fully convinced and needing his comfort more than anything.
‘Oh yeah. I’m for certain chipmunk. I think I even heard Bruce curse Clark under his breath once or twice.’ He tells you, pressing a kiss to your head as he holds you close.
‘But why? It’s not like they work with Batman, right?’ Your curious words caused Jason to stiffen and his breath to hitch as he tried to find the words before blurting out the first thing that came to his head. ‘No, they’re just…really devoted fans of Batman and Robin. So you could say that preferring Superman over them is a personal insult to them.’ He said, hoping you’d buy the lie, he genuinely didn’t want to subject you to the whole vigilantism so early on in your relationship.
Thankfully you did take the bait as you muttered into his shoulder, ‘okay, I hope they know I meant no offence but it.’ Jason let’s our a laugh, holding you closer to him as he closes his eyes to savour your bodily warmth against him. ‘I’m sure they do sweetheart, they’re the smartest people I know and they wouldn’t let something silly this affect our relationship.’ He said softly. ‘Now let’s go home and cuddle up in bed together yeah?’
‘That sounds like a great idea.’ You replied.
Dick: pouty baby.
What do you mean you don’t like Batman and Robin?! What did Superman have that he didn’t?!
For as far as Dick was concerned he has the fatter ass between him and Clark. He’s done the research.
He’s leaning all of his weight into you and says under his breath. ‘Why does my love betray me so.’ Meanwhile you’re looking at his confused as to why he’s acting as if you’ve just destroyed his lively hood with a single sentence.
Duke and Steph were patting Dick on the shoulder, sharing their sympathies with the revelation made at the dinner table.
Alfred left the room…again. First Jason’s partner, now Dick’s? What a coincidence.
Jason immeditly calls you his favourite and talks about how you and his partner -who also prefers Superman- would get along great while shit talks Batman simultaneously, almost as though he has a personal gripe with him or something.
Damian is sharpening his dinner knife…again but even more menacingly.
And Tim was back on the PowerPoint presentation where he goes into excruciating depths as to why Batman was statistically better the Superman.
The family is once again dissolved into chaos and Bruce was sat at the head of the table, calm, cool and collected but internally cursing Clark out once again for stealing another potential future in law.
(Clark has sneezed approximately twice at this rate and was taking every test to make sure he wasn’t coming down with anything serious)
After all was said and done and you were getting ready for bed, you asked the question that had been on your mind the entire night; ‘Your family doesn’t hate me, do they?’
Dick chuckled as he held you against his chest. ‘No, they love you enough to almost start a war over the fact that you like Superman over Batman and they’re not exactly the most in tune with their emotions. So seeing them react the way that they did? Only proves that they do like you cutie.’ He says as he gives you a peck on the lips.
You pouted. ‘But why does it feel like I just attached their lively hoods? It’s not like they know Batman or Robin personally or work with them in any capacity.’
Dick froze, he -much like Jason- didn’t want to subject you with the whole vigilante thing just yet, he didn’t want to scare you off so soon into the relationship in fear of scaring you away forever. ‘Devoted fans act like that whenever you tell them that you don’t like the same person as them.’ Dick replied, rubbing his hand up and down your back. ‘It’s an issue that should be regulated and or addressed at least.’
You hummed in agreement. ‘Well besides that, I like yours family, they all look like great people to know that have your back when you’re in a tough situation.’ You say as you kissed the side of his neck, nuzzling your face into his shoulder, feeling sleepy.
‘They really are.’ Dick replied softly. ‘They really are.’
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nat-ter · 3 months
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superbat fic idea: Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne are dating. Superman and Batman are teammates.
The first time Clark Kent joins the Wayne's for dinner, Bruce's kids realise that Clark Kent is Superman. Surely if they can immediately figure out Superman's civillian identity, World's Greatest Detective probably already did too. It makes sense, Bruce has always talked about Superman this and Superman that so they knew he definitely has a crush on the hero, and it's good that he seems to get his act together and ask Clark out. If anything, the kids are happy for him. And if Bruce knew Clark is Superman, surely he would've already revealed his own alter ego too. The whole "meet the family" was probably also Bruce's way of testing his kids, to see if their extensive training paid off and could see what is right in front of them.
Except. World's Greatest Detective, Batman, The Dark Knight himself, is in the dark about his boyfriend's superhero life. And Clark Kent, investigative journalist with superpowers and supersenses, has no idea he's dating Batman. But far be it from Bruce's kids to ever question the intelligence of Batman or by extension, Superman.
Cue, the Batkids acting overly familiar with Superman much to Superman's confusion; Bruce's children sharing what is supposed to be an inside joke with Clark when Batman or Superman happens to come up in a conversation even though Clark doesn't look like he gets the joke; Batkids greeting Clark Kent like an old pal when he happens to be in a Gotham crime scene; Bruce's children calling for Superman when they need him to do something, which is usually really mundane like "Superman! Superman! I got my baseball stuck on the roof can you please come and take it for me?", but Superman always does come because these are his boyfriend's kids of course he'd do anything for them even if they don't know that Superman is Clark Kent.
Even though they find it weird that Bruce talks as if Clark and Superman are two different people, they just chalk it up to Bruce being Bruce and refusing to mix Batman's business and Bruce Wayne's. And if Bruce refuses to mix their personal life with their professional life, then there's nothing Clark can do but follow Bruce's steps because Bruce is a control freak and Clark seems to be completely smitten with Bruce. Right? It makes perfect sense.
(And Bruce is perplexed. On one hand, his kids seem to adore Clark whenever the man comes over, or even when he doesn't, they would ask about him— Is he coming over this weekend? Can they visit his parents' farm? But on the other, his kids seem to try and set him up with Superman too, if the jokes and innuendos they make were any indication. Should Bruce talk to his kids? Tell them he's serious with Clark? But shouldn't they already know that he is? Is this their way of showing their dislike for Clark? But what is there not to love about Clark? Bruce ended up brooding a lot these days.)
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shower-phantom-ideas · 10 months
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Yall don’t understand how obsessed I am with Danny messing with the Justice League. Like just pranking them mad wild. Or “haunting” them.
Maybe it starts as a mistake. Someone was getting close to him and he just vanished. Maybe he was walking around one of their cities cause he wanted to “see how a real hero does it” but tried to stay out of the way.
Hes following Superman and doesn’t realise hes been had. Superman keeps seeing this odd child on the edge of his vision. It’s only weird because of how quickly he is traveling. He should be followed like this. So he tests it out and flys off to somewhere far off, but secluded. Edge of some farm land would work. Trying to not give it away he doesn’t make a show of looking for the boy. He then spots him. His eyes slightly glowing as he stands in the edge of the woods. Clark focused on the boy and hears slight breaths but nothing else. Which he should have realised sooner was wrong.
He returned to the team to report this odd being following him. To also warn everyone else to be on look out just incase.
Weirdly enough it was the Flash who noticed him next. Even weirder was that he could never get close. Even with his speed which was alarming.
Cyborg started seeing the kid too. He tried using cameras to get a better look at him but nothing ever showed up. Always missing was the boy from the video. Sometimes the whole video would get distort.
Wonder Woman probably got the closest as she used a fight to get “thrown” in his direction. She got close enough to see worry about her. He seemed so concerned and like he was going to step in until he met her gaze. A whole new kind of fear crossed his features. Then he was gone.
Everyone of the main team (and even some not) reporting in of spotting the kid except for Batman. And he looked. He tried everything to see if he was being followed like the rest but nothing. He read their reports on their encounters and tried to emulate it but never saw the boy. Maybe it was all a big prank being pulled on him? He couldn’t rule it out. Still he kept up constant watch.
Then one night he was out and got into a fight. Distracted by looking for the kid he got messy. Or maybe the criminals got desperate but he didn’t notice the rocket launcher being targeted on him in time and it fired. Only then did he notice it. No time to fully get out of the way he braced for the worst. When all of a sudden a body slammed into him shoving him out of the way of the blast. They rolled onto the ground. Bruce quickly recovered and looked for his saviour. On the ground, blown slightly to his left by the explosion was a black haired teen in a white t-shirt. Before he could move the boy groaned and looked right at Bruce. The haunting blue eyes meeting his even with the mask in the way the boy knew just where to look. He was about to speak when the boys eyes went wide with fear and then nothing. The boy just vanished into this air. Bruce didn’t have much time to be stunned by this as the thugs before started to cheer, thinking they had finished off the Bat. So he went to make quick work of them before any could get away. Well now he knows hes being followed too
Danny just freaking out about Batman seeing his face. Turns out he never followed Batman unless fully invisible. All he wanted was to see how “real” heros did it. And it had been helping him with his fighting. To see how the pros are. He was always worried the “worlds greatest detective” would figure him out though so he stayed hidden. Also maybe hes a bit of a fan. I made Wonder Woman get the closest cause shes his fav probably.
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angelltheninth · 4 months
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DC Characters + Romance Tropes
Pairing: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Clark Kent, Selina Kyle, Talia Al Ghul x Reader
Tags: fluff, kissing, flirting, cuddles, misunderstandings, sneaking around, identity reveal
A/N: I haven't done this for DC yet so here goes.
BRUCE + GRUMPY X SUNSHINE
You're one of the few who can see behind his happy playboy mask with ease. You know that deep down he's the complete opposite of what he makes other believe so you take it upon yourself to make him smile as much as you can. It's a little hard when he comes home with bruises and cuts and broken fists but even if you can the tiniest smile from him, a real smile you consider it a win.
DICK + CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS
It was obvious that he had a crush on you for years and you kept waiting and waiting for him to confess. Now you're both adults and he still hasn't made a move on you. At this point you doubt he ever will. It's up to you then. When you ask him out for a movie he tried to sneakily hold your hand during romantic moments but he hid his face during the kiss scene. The last thing he saw coming was you pulling him in for a kiss too.
JASON + SECOND CHANCE
You'd been on and off for a bit before he vanished for years. Honestly you thought he died or something. But the fact that he came to find and talk to you again after all these years warms your heart. He's not looking to start a relationship with you if you're already in one but if you're single he'd love to take you out and see how things go.
CLARK + ACCIDENTAL REVEAL
Usually he's good st keeping his identities separate. Been doing it for years but you kissing him made his brain short-circuit. As soon as he saw you the next morning he mentioned wanting to kiss you again. Only your kiss was with Superman. It was about that time that he wished he could rewind time. Not only did he reveal his identity but he also did it in the stupidest way. This whole time... Superman was a cute dork.
SELINA + FAKE DATING
She's dating you only to have someone to bring to big social events. You barely spend time together when you're not at a party. The only time after that is if you go home with her and she's feeling like cuddling with you. After all it would look bad on her if she's seen bringing other people to her house when she's dating you. She does like kissing you for the cameras, and lately the kisses seem to last longer.
TALIA + ENEMIES AND LOVERS
It was hard enough to decide if you wanted to fight her or kiss her from the moment you saw her, it's even more annoying when she tells you she's only letting you live because she thinks you're too amusing. You were honestly a little hesitant to get in bed with her and with good reason, she could kill you in your sleep. Well that wouldn't be interesting, besides she's not sure she wants to kill you but she does like fighting you a bit too much to make piece.
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Superpham AU (part 4)
Original prompt + parts 1-3
Masterpost
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It's not the most awkward dinner Lois has ever had, but only because she's dined with literal supervillains before.  
Danny is poking at his Mongolian beef with his fork more than he's actually eating it.  Lois can hardly blame him; it’s been a difficult few days for her and she’s not the one who just landed in a different dimension from the one she grew up in.  But Danny certainly isn’t up to keeping conversation going.
Jon is making a valiant effort, but he seems distracted.  He keeps shooting looks at Lois and Clark when he thinks they’re not looking, and while he recounts everything he and Damian got up to (not too much trouble, thankfully, although that wasn’t saying much), he’s less enthusiastic than he would normally be.  
Clark keeps shooting Jon worried looks when he thinks Jon isn’t looking.  Lois will have to ask him how that conversation went; it seems like it was rough on both of them. 
Eventually, even Jon runs out of things to say, and the four of them sit around the table, eating their Chinese takeout in silence.  
“So, Danny,” Lois finally says.  “I don’t know how the dimension you grew up in differs from this one, but if you have any questions about anything, please ask one of us.”
“It’s not that different,” Danny says.  “I mean, it is in some ways, but it’s still Earth, you know?”
Lois isn’t entirely certain she does, but this doesn’t seem to be the time to ask.  Maybe when things are less fresh.
Jon has no such compunctions.  “What’s the biggest difference?” 
Danny looks thoughtful.  “You guys have a lot of superheroes here,” he finally says.
“What kind of superheroes did your other world have?” Jon asks eagerly.  
“We mostly didn’t,” Danny says.  “I mean, I guess Phantom kind of counts.  But that’s it.”
“That’s it?” Jon is clearly flabbergasted by this.  Lois fights a smile, and she can see Clark doing the same thing.  Jon has never known a world without the Justice League, but she and Clark can both remember when superheroes were much, much rarer.
“Most people probably wouldn’t even count Phantom,” Danny says.  “The kids mostly did, but a lot of adults didn’t trust him because he was… because he wasn’t exactly human.”
Combined with what Danny said before about that interdimensional portal, this is painting a picture Lois really doesn’t like.
“There are folks like that everywhere, unfortunately,” Clark says.  “And you can’t always change their minds. But I believe most people are better than that."
Judging by Danny's expression, he wasn't entirely convinced of that. Lois couldn't blame him; she has enough trouble seeing the good in people the way Clark did, and the other dimension sounds worse than hers in this regard.  
Danny doesn’t seem inclined to talk about it any further.  Silence lingers for just a beat too long before he speaks.  “Oh, the sun’s yellow here.  That’s different, too.”
-----
The front door slams, shaking the house, and Jon scrambles into the kitchen.  
“Where’s Ma and Pa?” he demands.
Kon mentally says goodbye to his tentative plans for the day.  Not that he minds hanging out with Jon, but he’s clearly upset about something.  Kon’s good at a lot of things, but emotional conversations is not one of them.
“They’re in town for the day,” Kon says.  “You’re lucky they didn’t hear you slam the door like that.”
“Did you know about Danny?” Jon demands.
“Who?”
“Dan-El.”
Clark texted a couple of days ago, telling Kon to call when he had time.  Kon has been putting it off, knowing that Clark has better ways of getting in touch with him if there’s a real emergency.  That’s starting to seem like a mistake.
He doesn’t answer Jon right away, which Jon seems to take as its own answer.  
“Did everyone know but me?” Jon demands.
The thing is, Kon is pretty sure he's not supposed to know about Dan-El. Lois and Clark have never breathed a word about him in Kon's hearing.
He only knows because he spent an afternoon helping Ma go through some old boxes up in the attic and found a box of photos-- mostly of Clark as a kid, but some of Ma and Pa when they were younger.
"Oh goodness," Ma had said, when she'd notices what Kon was looking at. "I keep telling myself I'm going to organize those and put them in an album, but I never get around to it."
She'd sat down next to Kon and looked through the pictures with him, pointing out her favorites and telling stories to accompany them. ("And that one was from just after Clark's tenth birthday-- we had to get a new door because his strength was just coming in and he broke the old one.")
Then Kon had pulled out a photo of a toddler, sitting on the front porch with Pa. He'd thought it was a picture of Clark at first, but Pa's hair was considerably more gray than it was in the pictures from Clark's childhood, and Ma had just told him that the porch had been rebuilt and expanded after Clark broke the old one in tenth grade.
"Oh, that's Daniel," Ma said. She'd gently taken the photo from Kon's hand and ran a finger over not-Clark's face. "He was our first grandson-- Lois and Clark's oldest." She'd gone on to tell him the whole sad story.
There's a small headstone for Daniel Kent in the Smallville cemetery, right next to Pa's parents. Kon thinks it must have been Ma or Pa's idea; there was no body to bury and as far as he knows, Lois and Clark never visit it.
“I don’t think that’s it,” Kon says.  “I think it’s just not something they talk about.”  Jon doesn’t look convinced, so he adds, “They told you now, right?”
“Only after he showed up!” 
“Wait, what?”  Kon is starting to think he really should have replied to that message from Clark.
-----
Not for the first time, Clark wishes there was a handbook for this sort of thing.  But oddly enough, parenting manuals generally don’t cover how to talk to your long-lost son about his alien heritage.  He’s put this off long enough already; Danny had spent most of the previous day out with Lois, picking up all the necessities he didn’t have.
“So…” Danny says, kicking his feet a little.  He’s sitting next to Clark on this skyscraper, his feet dangling over the edge.  It makes Clark a little nervous, seeing how Danny can’t fly yet, but he also knows he’s fast enough to catch Danny if he were to fall.
"Lois said you're an alien?" The words are softened by the blatant curiosity in Danny's tone, and Clark remembers Lois recounting how excited Danny was to meet J'onn and to see space from the Watchtower. 
It's a sentiment Clark can understand. He's traveled through space and met aliens both hostile and friendly. He regularly meets with his colleagues on an orbiting space station. And yet, seeing his adopted planet from space still fills him with awe.
"When I was born, my parents— my birth parents— already knew our planet, Krypton, was dying," Clark begins. It's not an easy story to tell, but the grief is old. Not gone, but distant. It's a place and a people he will never know except through stories and the archives in the Fortress— but those, at least, he can share. He tells Danny this, too, and promises to take him to the Fortress soon. It would be easier if Danny could fly, but he'll make it work. 
"You should talk to Kara, too," Clark adds. 
"Who's Kara?"
"My cousin. Right now she's in space, on a Justice League mission, but you'll meet her when she gets back. She was a teenager when Krypton was destroyed; she has firsthand memories."  He’ll save explaining the part where she got caught in suspended animation for later; he’s dumped a lot of information on Danny already.
“You said something the other night about yellow sun radiation?” Danny asks.
“It’s what gives Kryptonians our power, here on Earth,” Clark says.  
“And what powers are those, exactly?” Danny seems more hesitant than Clark would usually expect of a teenager finding out he’s going to develop superpowers— but then, they already know Danny grew up in a world where that sort of thing was feared and looked down upon.  
“Enhanced sense, enhanced strength and speed, flight, invulnerability— there are others, but those are the main ones to expect.”
Danny nods thoughtfully.
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impyssadobsessions · 2 months
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I don't have much time but I wanted to share this with you while I can! I can't draw but I can write and this is the only way I can share this imagery with you!
The world is passing by in a flurry of colors.
Which usually isn’t that unusual for Clark…usually though it’s because his flying of his own accord. Now…now it was because he was hurdling who knows how fast in piece of metal that was more of a mobile armory then an actual RV then it supposedly was.
There were no support handles to hold on to for just a bit of comfort, no, that was replaced by a handle that would pull down and release a fog horn sound.
So all he could do was pull his knees up to steady himself against the front console, using his size to squeeze himself into a cannonball form in hopes he didn’t get dislodged on a particular rough bump.
Then again if he did, maybe he could get propelled forward and through the front and take the engine out on his way.
Wishful thinking…at least he was doing better then Bruce.
Who was currently sprawled out on the floor of the RV looking like a disheveled cat hanging on to whatever and however he could. Maybe it would look more natural in his Batman outfit but at the moment both if them were in civilian wear and seeing the ‘Prince of Gotham’ doing an impression of a deranged starfish just added on more to today’s bizarreness.
Jack Fenton was giving him a large smile as he drove through another wall, “Don’t you guys worry! I’ll get us to our boys! No speed limit or any barrier can stop a Fenton!”
Clark could only let out a groan of despair as a response...
AMG THIS IS LOVELY LMAO!!! Bruce just imitating one of his sons to keep himself from being thrashed around.. or worse... throw up. ahhhh imagine they both slump out of the rv when they arrive, shaking and so grateful to touch the ground. Bruce is definitely calling for a private jet after this and Clark might agree to ride with him just to have a slower ride.
Danny gives them pity pats when he learns... Jon and Damian like how bad could it be. Damian thinking his father been in a space ship and Jon like we fly that fast every- Only for them to be overheard by Jack by their curiosity, so they all end up being drove back by him. Which bruce and clark like OH GOD please- which becomes a little relief when it turns out Jack drives safer with children.... still deranged but one they can handle. Damian still doesn't see what got their fathers so twisted up. Danny knows though and then asks dad how long it took them. "Regrettably 3 hours son. I was hoping it would be two." Damian frowned and done the math then asking if there was a flying feature in the... rv? "AHA! Nope, but I've been trying to convince Mads to let me install one. She said it would cost too much in gas though, and take up room for the ghost scanner." Damian does the math.. then realizes why his father and clark are shaking in the rv.. even by the tiniest of amounts. "That's my dad! :D" Danny grinning. "He's cool." Jon says innocently enough, not realizing the horror of that statement until it takes them over five hours to get home. Jack decided to play it safe and follow SOME speed limits and road signs. Jack is never allowed to drive again next time they hang out. Bruce or Clark always gets the keys =w= or has limo. ahh sorry got inspired. I LOVE this snippet ;w; !!!! <3 Thank you for writing this. <3<3<3
Link to prompt
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c-nstantine · 5 months
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"Oh, my God, my parents are swingers!"
Description: Dick finds out about his parents extra-marital activities
Word Count: 0.7k
Warnings: Hella references to sex and threesomes, foursomes, extramarital activities, Y/N is bi, Bruce is bi
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The manor was supposed to be empty. Tim and Duke were at some gaming convention and Cass decided to tag along. Damian was staying with the Kents for the weekend. Dick was meant to be home in Bludhaven and Jason was out with the Outlaws. Little Thomas and the twins were with Y/N's parents. Alfred took this as an opportunity to see an exhibit that he wanted to see and took the weekend off. Y/N and Bruce wouldn't've had Selina over if anyone was coming over, and they sure as hell wouldn't have let her in their bed if they knew Dick had forgotten his keys.
"Selina?" Dick asked, noticing that Selina was in the kitchen. She just wanted a cup of coffee after the night that Bruce and Y/N had put her through. She wasn't exactly dressed for company and wrapped one of Y/N's silk robes around herself tighter. 
"Hey, Dick," She tried to say as not awkwardly as possible. It's not like she just had sex with his parents or anything.
"Why are you here? Where your clothes at? Is Bruce cheating?" Dick asked questions one after another. He wasn't very sure what was going on but he was sure he didn't like it.
"Um-" Selina was a bit too discombobulated to answer but the hickies on her neck weren't helping the case.
"Dick, what are you doing here?" Bruce said walking into the kitchen with only his boxers. He got Selina her cup of coffee but when he turned to grab the mug from the cabinet, Dick gasped from the marks on Bruce's back. Bruce had a lot of scars from his time as Batman but these were fresh and looked more like nail scratches than injuries.
"You're cheating on mom?" Dick asked waving a finger at his adoptive father.
"No, I'm not cheating on your mother. Do you think I'm dumb?" Bruce spoke with wide eyes. He couldn't dream of his life without Y/N and he knew for a fact if he ever thought about cheating, Y/N might cut his dick off but in a loving way. 
"Oh, hey Dick, How's my eldest boy?" Y/N said coming around the corner in a silk nightie. Dick was confused and none of this was making sense to him in the moment. 
"Mom?" Dick called out, bracing himself against the counter.
"Yeah, Dick," Y/N responded handing, Selina cream, and sugar. Selina simply thanked her with a kiss on the cheek. 
"Why are none of you properly dressed?" Dick asked with his face burning a bright red. 
"See Dick when two people like each other very much and they want to share that love," Y/N tried to break it down for Dick as if he was a small child. 
"Oh my God, you guys are swingers. My parents are swingers," Dick rubbed his hands through his hair. He felt sweaty for some reason like his parents caught him having sex instead of the other way around.
"We're not swingers. We just enjoy extra company on occasion," Y/N tried to justify and she was probably doing a terrible job at it.
"Yeah, Dick. It's not always me," Selina spoke softly after drinking her coffee. Y/N lightly slapped her thigh and Selina simply smirked at her. 
"Selina, you are not helping right now," Bruce grumbled into his hands before walking around the kitchen to find bread before toast. There were only two things Bruce could make by himself, coffee and toast.
"What do you mean by that? What does she mean by that?" Dick regretted the question as soon as it left his mouth. 
"Dick, sometimes your father and I have extra-marital affairs but together. What Selina meant is that we sometimes have relations with Oliver and Dinah, or Diana, or Hal Jordan, or Clark and Lois, etc," Y/N listed out a few too many names and Dick internally gagged. At this point, he just wanted to find his keys and leave. 
"That's the definition of swingers. I'm gonna leave now and pretend I never heard any of this," Dick said grabbing his keys. Selina waited until she heard the large door slam before speaking again.
"So, round four?" Selina asked while hopping on the counter and removing the robe. Bruce and Y/N made eye contact before moving towards the woman in between them and it was that day that Dick learned not to show up unannounced if he could avoid it.
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toast-on-dandelioms · 3 months
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Regarding my last ask how does the batfam react to Venom? Like how do they interact with them? Also how did it look from another perspective? The Spider having a new look and abilities and acting in a new way.
That's also a good question! (Basically everything you ask me will be a good question because it gives me more ideas)
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I will do every character in the story so far and explain their first reaction and then how they would act with Venom as they get used to him.
Clark Kent: he would be the first one you show Venom after getting to know him and trusting him enough.
Plus, after he refused to make Batman meet you again after you refused when he proposed it made you feel appreciated and you knew you could trust him with Venom.
Venom also trusted him and was friendly with him, something new since Venom was usually hostile with everyone, including you the first month you two were together before warming up to you.
He's usually a snarky little brat whenever Clark tries to start a speech about Justice, just to mess with him since he knows Clark can hear him.
Plus Venom would just laugh whenever he and Clark would argue while you would eat something, loving how easy it was to rile Clark up.
Clark, the first time he met Venom, was a bit surprised at such alien and especially the new abilities it came with, surprised such blob like creature was so advanced in speech and abilities.
He did try to separate the two of you before understanding that Venom was like another part of you that cannot be removed, especially since you refused to let go of Venom after spending so much time with him.
He's also incredibly weirded out when he saw your form when Venom takes over, too used to your shorter form (since Clark is freaking tall and you're still a teen), plus all the black goo that Venom uses to move around like you makes him a bit disgusted but would never say it to your face.
He does not mind Venom after getting to know him, but does get angry whenever Venom would make fun of him or his speeches even though he never gets so mad to say something offensive since he knows Venom respects him. (You told him that when Venom was distracted, but got a bit of an earful by him after he found out).
He is one of the people Venom actually listens to and gets easily manipulated by when you get hurt, making him believe that staying with the Waynes with you and making you weak so you wouldn't escape, would be for the best.
(Clark also got manipulated since he wanted to take you home with him and his sons, but compromised to be able to visit whenever he wants because he thought you staying there was the best option)
Bruce Wayne: ok so, Bruce will find out about Venom when he first met Spider aka you in part 3.
How did he meet Venom? Basically when you grab Tim with your webs changes into Venom that grabs Tim, staying hidden for a bit before coming out to taunt Bruce when you refused his proposal.
After he finds out who you are behind the mask and gets overprotective over you, Venom usually annoys him or taunts him when you're forced to spend time with him to make up for the fact that he didn't before.
He would never respect Bruce, not after what he saw from your memories and how you were treated for years while Bruce would treat him like an annoying mosquito that flies in your room at night.
Bruce would hate Venom sometimes, especially when he sees you talk with Venom with such happiness in your eyes but when you're with him, you're usually with a dead expression and never say anything.
He would be so jealous of Venom and how you acted so close with him but would act like you were dead when spending time with your father.
When he did see Venom in his full form when you needed to go to bed but was stuck on the couch with Dick and Tim trying to cuddle with you, it shocked him.
He was glad he managed to manipulate the alien so he could keep you in the Manor or he knew he couldn't stop the alien, at least until he knew everything about it and all his weaknesses.
Dick Grayson: the rest of the batkids will also learn about Venom the same time Bruce does so I'll start from then so I don't repeat it.
Dick would be amazed by the alien, even though he knew Kori/Starfire (not sure on her name so I put both) but the alien form you were fused with was far more interesting.
He did get scared when Tim suddenly get caught in Venom's webs/goo, not thinking you would attack or even notice them since they were trained to be as silent as a ninja.
He does get along with Venom by giving him brains from gangsters that dared to hurt you when you were still a vigilante, plus he used Venom as a way to hide the evidence whenever he killed someone.
(You would always be sleeping when Venom would eat people and he would make sure you never knew)
He doesn't mind Venom and they're friends, plus he gets an advantage with you since Venom slowly manipulates you to see Dick as a brother and not an enemy.
Overall, Dick wouldn't mind Venom and actually be one of the ones to use him for their advantage with you, since the others aren't really good with Venom or you hate them and Venom does too.
Jason Todd: he's similar to Dick since he fight gangsters everyday and does kill them so he brings the remains to Venom when you're asleep and Venom took over.
He would spoil you and Venom to the max, giving you everything you wished for even if it was something you wanted when you were 12.
Venom likes him because he and Jason love taunting Bruce and making him feel bad, while you just stay on the side or sleeping since Venom takes over mostly when you sleep so you won't complain about what he does.
Plus, Jason is one of the brothers you actually spend time with since he doesn't try to invade your personal space like Dick, and just spends time with you even if you both are just reading in a comfortable silence.
Jason treats you and Venom like normal, not really giving off that he's a yandere even though Venom knows he's one of the ones to manipulate you in small ways because after all, he's also Bruce's son.
Tim Drake: he's a bit difficult to understand since he acts normal, like when you didn't even exists in his life, but he did change a bit.
He spends more time with you and Venom, mostly with you three in his room watching him work or you ignoring him as he tries to talk to you, even using Venom to cover your ears.
Venom and Tim are on ok terms, Venom doesn't hate the guy but also doesn't really like him. They're both neutral and act civil whenever they talk while you do your thing.
He doesn't really react when Venom takes over, acts normal while also studying Venom to see if he had any weaknesses so he could exploit them if necessary.
Damian Wayne: oh Venom hates him and it's reciprocated since Damian also detest the alien form that is fused with you.
He did try to find ways to separate the two of you but stopped when Bruce and Clark informed him that you were fused with Venom to the point you two would die if you get separated.
He hates the alien since whenever he tries to impress you, he's there to annoy him or taunt him with what he did to you in the past.
He also hates how he can't spar with you because of the alien since he makes you weakened and slower, so the fight wouldn't even be fair and Damian wants it to be fair so he can show off how good he is.
He doesn't care about how Venom looks, he just hates him even if he's ugly but can't really say anything to you since you also hate him and don't want to spend time with him.
He does know it's his own fault for treating you so bad for years, especially whenever he sees your scars that were caused by him but prefers to blame Venom for making you against him.
Overall, everyone does accept Venom except for Bruce and Damian but they can't really do much about it.
Part 1 to the ask about Venom is here!
Sorry for taking so long for it, hope you like it!
For the divider you can go to @saradika-graphics! She does amazing dividers!
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bruciemilf · 1 year
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I headcanon that Bruce, specifically Battinson, cries real easily.
Not only when he's sad; It's actually then when he doesn't cry at all. He cries when he's angry, when he's overstimulated, when he's dissapointed, when scolded and feels like he just let someone down.
Everyone in his life, friends, enemies, and something grey, know this about him. It never bleeds into the Batman, thought.
But it's a well known, universal fact, that every Gothamite knows as divine truth: Bruce Wayne is a crybaby.
Naturally, He cries when happy and proud, too.
Dick learns that when he's 10, and brings back a huge canvas he borrowed (stole) from art class.
The assignment was to illustrate what made them happy. He picked Bruce.
Imagine his surprise when his foster father bursts into tears, gives him a big wet kiss on the cheek, and dashes to his cave, " DON'T LOOK AT ME!"
"...Does he do that a lot?"
Alfred, who didn't even bat an eye, " Only all the time."
Jason learns that when he's 12, holding his favorite copy of Pride and Prejudice, which is DOG EARED. This is a hardback cover, damn it!
" B! How could you! Don't you know better? Are you gonna paint over the Mona Lisa, too?!Seriously,--"
Abruptly, he stops at the first drops of water. Bruce is avoiding his eyes, broad shoulders slouched down, hands fidgeting by his sides. Expression pinched and pained. "...Forgive me."
"Okay," Why does HIS voice sound wrecked and brittle? " I'm gonna go in the time-out corner. And I won't eat any sweets tonight."
" But you love sweets... "
"No sweets! Don't make me. I'll go to sleep with no TV either."
But what really gets to people? Bruce cries when he's embarassed.
"I gotta say, B, " Clark humming, seemingly ignorant to a rather concerning wound. A faint kryptonite nausea still persists, but nothing he can't avoid. " You really saved my behind out there. Good job."
It's obvious Bruce has a doctor's hands; His hands glide stitches confidently, without nervousness, without pause. Healing. That's what Bruce was, at his core.
Still, his heart beats wildly. "...I'm glad you're okay."
Clark, for one, Is delighted. "Are those emotions? Positive ones? Are we having a moment?"
" I did an adequate job. It was nothing special."
" Oh, that's bullshit. Come on, you were amazing! Did you see the guy's face when you blocked the bullet with your batarang? Breathtaking."
"Superman. Enough."
" No, -- listen. 20 guys get their hands on kryptonite and knock me out in 10 minutes. You had them beat in FIVE. Bruce, you were wonderful, --"
He stops immediately when a velvet voice cracks, " Clark,"
He worries that maybe he pushed too much. Forced his way instead of being welcomed. An apology is hot and ready on his lips.
But.
But that cowl only hides so much. That soft, dusty red flushes down to Bruce's chest. Pink skin glows red, shiny with tears, and skilled hands shake.
Clark's heart roars. He's so, so fond of this man.
" Oh, Bruce. Oh, baby."
He can't stop smiling as he listens to Bruce whining in his neck.
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jesncin · 15 days
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I hope Superman fandom as a whole will one day understand that if you truly want to commit to the immigrant allegory, scenes like Lois shooting Clark with a gun or her jumping off a building to prove he's Superman pair really badly with that allegory.
I know some fans like to say "Superman was always an immigrant allegory" and while I get the sentiment of retroactively looking at how the lives of his creators inform the character they made, we also have to acknowledge that the allegory was never consistent to begin with. The original Superman comics were fun gags and shenanigans. Superman Smashes the Klan wouldn't stand out so much if his immigrant identity was consistently integral to his character.
And if you're going to commit to Superman being an immigrant, then you've got to be open to changes on staple Superman lore. So much of this fandom is dedicated to nostalgia, references, canon events, "but Lois does that in the comics! It's not Lois Lane if she doesn't do crazy things to prove who Superman is!" without considering how that is contextualized in the allegory.
I still get so many comments on my Clois comics but especially the Private Interview comic saying "I've never seen Superman this way before" from even longtime fans of the character. Honestly, I never saw him that way until I read Smashes the Klan. Since then I want people to have that recognition of themselves in him too. But that means being brave with changes! Maybe it's okay for this version of Lois to respect Superman's boundaries. Maybe an Asian Lois can be more than an aesthetic shallow retread of white Lois.
These characters are more than callbacks and references. The reason they persist throughout many versions is because they hold themes. Lois isn't just "stunt girl reporter obsessed with Superman and THE TRUTH", she's also a jaded reporter hardened by life who finds hope again in Superman. Superman isn't just "save cats from trees" guy. He's an alien immigrant, and you can make a ton of new stories from that lens alone.
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nouearth · 10 months
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servicing justice: superman [1]
pairing ; kal-el / clark kent / superman x m!reader. fandom: ; dc, superman. word count ; 2144. series ; servicing justice. genre ; smut. rating ; m. warnings ; bigdick!superman. blowjob. gloryhole. handjob. mouth-fucking. oral (reader giving). sexworker!reader. note ; yeah, okay. maybe i've been watching too much of a certain video genre, ahem. but i hope you guys enjoy my first smut! it's been a WHILE since i've written one, so i know it's rusty, HAHA. looks-wise, i mostly had maws's superman in mind (because the art style is so good and so himbo), but feel free to imagine it with any superman!
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it isn’t the most comfortable position to be in. you’ve been kneeling on the floor for quite some time now, waiting for your assigned client. your palms begin to sweat to a minimal but uncomfortable degree. did i fuck up already? you ask yourself as your mind clouds with questions, doubts, and even judgement regarding this new job.
“jesus, what did i get myself into…” you recall the long process it took for you to end up here. the intensive (and ridiculously long) process of reading and signing multiple forms and documents almost had you backing out of this opportunity. though looking back at it, it was understandable since it’s quite unheard of to be… a sex worker for superheroes.
for an incredible pay, your privacy will essentially be stripped away starting from today. all phone messages, calls, and social media activities will be monitored during your venture as a sex worker, and that post-graduate life was not going to pay itself. for the most part, so far everything seemed… great? being driven to work by a chauffeur, having your own personal room and health coverage provided, and most importantly… eating free lunch was not bad at all.
or maybe you’re just naïve.
all you had to do was kneel and suck a few superhumans off. as the newbie, you were told that you’ll be starting on gloryhole duty due to privacy reasons; at least until you built enough camaraderie. though, you didn’t even mind since there would certainly be less strain on your body.
you couldn’t help but snicker at the mere thought of an entire league of superheroes holding a meeting regarding this subject matter. especially since almost everyone in the world, including you, holds these superheroes in such high regard.
“meeting is adjourned until 9 am tomorrow! until then, please help yourself to some delicious food trucks from outer spac-“ your humorous imitation of a noble superhero is silenced when you hear the door opening. within your private booth, all that blocks you from meeting your approaching client is another door with a hole cut through.
your curiosity is piqued when you catch a sight of the man’s physique through the hole. plaid shirt and jeans aside, and assuming he had to underdress, he’s huge. maybe because you’re kneeling right now, or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve never been near a superhero before, but you couldn’t help but be in awe at the size of the man. your eyes complete a full body scan by the time he approaches the door and before you could say something, he does.
“sorry i was late-“ a gentle voice echoes behind the door. contrary to his soft voice, the man’s large hands work aggressively at his belt, unlooping the leather with impatience yet eagerness as he anticipates the mouth that’s been waiting for his arrival. “there was this whole thing with this cat in this tree and then this school bus got hijacked- not my best day, unfortunately.”
“i’m sorry to hear that. sounds like a stressful day, yeah?” your voice is compassionate. you felt bad for the unnamed superhero and a part of you wanted to continue the conversation further, but your job isn’t to listen to their feelings. it’s to pleasure.
“yeah…” a huge sigh of relief expels from the man’s dry throat when he pulls his pants down. frustration stains another one of your client’s sigh, clearly troubled by the restrictive fabric guarding his erection. you watch with parted lips as he couldn’t help but give himself a needy stroke through his tight briefs, fondling his balls then beelining his palm to the very plump tip of his cock. your own cock hardens at this scene, and you find yourself doing the very same. mimicking his impatient hand to tend to the sensitive pressure below, you tiptoe the fine line between frustration and pleasure as your tightening pants and briefs define what it means to be an absolute nuisance. “very stressful.”
it doesn’t take much time before you’re faceful of cock and somehow, you manage to salivate more than you did a minute ago. the man’s throbbing erection is brimmed with thick pre-cum, stress practically leaving his body with every drip. it’s a heavenly sight that’s enough to make you stick your tongue out just in time to catch the substance into your mouth, not wanting to waste a single drop. the salty taste always catches you off-guard yet at the same time, it puts you under a spell. a tantalizing spell that commands you to drag your warm tongue over and back the underside of his thick shaft, completely avoiding the plump glans to have his cock leak even more… stress.
the taste of his musk drives your palm further into your erection, palming at whatever you could as you preoccupy yourself with teasing the man. you almost felt bad for him. contrary to his build, his whimpers are… so small, so weak. you notice his hands grip over the top of the barrier, and it turns you on upon realizing how this supposed hero could become so fragile at the simple taunt of your tongue.
“please…” the superhero whimpers out, needlessly fucking the air in hopes of granting his cock some type of friction. you’re amazed, and a little proud, by how much pre-cum he’s been leaking by now, and it all goes right onto your tongue. the wet muscle follows the natural curve of his cock to meet up with the wet and plump head. his hips buckle into the barrier and feeling it shake, you keep him steady by wrapping your hand around his shaft. you’re addicted at this point. addicted to the salty taste of his pre-cum as your tongue licks and explores into the slit of his cock, while at the same time, your hand works at his large cock in slow, but steady strokes.
“oh christ-“ he breathes out, repeating the same two words under his shaky breath as you continue to pleasure him with your tongue and hand. after a few licks, you pull away to give your tongue a break. in doing so, your grip tightens around his shaft to pace your strokes quicker. when you find a moment where your wrist needs a break, you let your client catch his breath. his cock throbbing more and more with every passing second when your tongue and hand aren’t exploring him, and you bask in the sight of it. you believe you deserve a medal at this point. not for doing a great job (though, it doesn’t seem too far-fetched), but for having control. you haven’t even sucked him off yet, but you’re content on remaining just like this for a while longer. though, that wouldn’t be fair for the superhero.
before he could whimper out another plea, your warm mouth finally wraps around the head of his cock and your ears perk at the sound of his low moan almost instantly. your hand returns to its rightful position around the lower base of his penis as you cycle your tongue over the glans, satisfying your need to taste his musk once more. seconds later, your hand lets go when you push your head farther, taking in an inch more of the hero’s cock. your knees dig into the floor as you push your head more and more, stretching your mouth with his cock until you feel yourself gagging.
“fuck.” you sniffle out when you pull back. perhaps you were challenging yourself too hard. you think to yourself as you catch your breath, using the remaining moment to sloppily jerk him off with your saliva. part of you wanted to challenge yourself to deepthroat him, impress your client on the first day. but you already know you wouldn’t be able to take it… at least, for now.
“you could hurt someone with this, y’know?” for some reason, you thought you needed to crack a joke as if there was an awkward silence that needed to be filled. maybe you just wanted to hear him talk again. his voice is warm and inviting, somewhat fitting for a superhero or even a television host as the moment you hear his voice again, you felt safe.
“i have before- oh god.” you lube up his cock with your spit as you continue to jerk him off, refraining yourself from fucking his slit with your tongue again to concentrate on his words. “which is why i don’t do this much- sex and stuff… it’s all troublesome, really.”
“yeah?” and just when you talked yourself out of challenging yourself, you feel the competitive spark ignite inside of you again. “well, i guess you just have to find the right one. could be anyone, even people you just met.” you try to play it nonchalantly, hoping that double-handing his wet cock would distract him.
he was beyond speechless at this point, moans drawn out by means of your sloppy strokes. you swear you can hear his heartbeat behind the barrier when you lean your head closer to suck him off again. you moan along with him, drawing out every breath of yours as you bob your head up and down, taking more of his cock every time you come down. your hand twists and strokes the remaining few inches that isn’t violated by your tongue and mouth, following your mouth like a reel as your intent to make him cum is fervent more than ever.
it hurts. your mouth hurts by how large your client is and tears brim in your eyes as you hold yourself back from gagging. but you don’t stop yourself because you’ll know it’ll be worth it. your endeavor to please him to the fullest has you drowning out his groans into white noise and you can barely register the fact that you’ve been on paused for a while now. you find yourself in a closer position than before, where your mouth is open, lips fully pressed around the carved hole as the superhero fucks into your mouth, fucks into your gags like you’re his personal flesh light. you didn’t care how dirty you looked, how you had saliva and spittle dripping out from the corners of your mouth and onto the floor. who would see? and you didn’t care that you were too preoccupied to touch your dick right now, because you know you’ll be thinking about this very moment for the rest of your life. and right now, you didn’t know if you wanted to be covered in his cum or to have your mouth be filled with it.
remaining in this position, you glance your teary eyes up at his grip over the barrier again. the strength in his grasp forms small cracks in the material of the barrier and that was the sign you knew you fulfilled your sense of purpose.
“christ, i’m going to come-“ your eyes shut again and you breathe through your noise, bracing for impact. he pushes his cock down your throat and hits that sore spot one last time before unloading his cum into your mouth with a stifled groan. warm, hot seed quickly fills you up and you pull your head back an inch to fully enclose your lips around his cock, ensuring none escape your lips.
in a heartbeat, you swallowed it all. his warm cum coats the back of your throat like medicine and you moan around his cock at the taste, intoxicated. you made sure to lick every inch of his cock clean, calmly slurping any saliva and cum that threatens to leave your mouth as you pull back up with a soft pop, swallowing the remaining remnants of his stress away.
“t-thank you. i needed that…” he pulls his softening cock out, careful in avoiding the hole as he was still sensitive. “did you need a tissue or anything? i think i have one somewhere…” you can hear him rummage through what you can only assume would be his bag and you find it charming, a quiet laugh leaving your swollen lips as you lean back onto your elbows to take a breather and stretch your legs out.
“no, no. i’m okay. i, uh, don’t think i wasted a drop.” you proudly brag, only for him to respond with a shy chuckle. you watch him tidy himself through the hole from a leaned back view, occasionally tilting your head in various angles to see if you could catch a glimpse on who the mysterious superhero is, but the barrier remains an obstruction to your view.
“well then, i… uh… thank you for your service.” he covers up the silence with another laugh and you join in, re-adjusting his pants and belt before turning his back towards you and heading out the booth. “i’ll try not to be late next time.”
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© nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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