#Cashier! Damian

[anxi04]

Tim admits this was… definitely a bad idea. But in his defense he could not be blamed for anything he decides after an intense case. He stayed up for a consecutive 74 hours and then crashed for 2 days straight so… really it's Kon's fault for taking the suggestion seriously.

Tim and Kon are at Olive Garden on a small date, nothing too serious. However like the fool Tim is he's disguised so he doesn't get recognized as 'Timothy Jackson Drake' or 'Tim Wayne' and since he's still very out of it at the moment he's not really putting much of a mask on so the confidence is gone, and he's still so tired so the comprehension is a little… off right now.

He forgot about the dreaded 'how much Parmesan do you want' question for dishes and after a minute it just got too awkward to say anything. So here they are, Tim dying inside while the waiter (who's definitely a meta cause where the hell is all that cheese coming from?) grates the 5th block of Parmesan. Kon is laughing the traitor that he is and at this point it's also a little bit of a challenge on his and the waiters end.

"Is this good enough for your exquisite tastes?" The waiter, Lora (god they are getting a minimum of a 500$ tip), asks him very pointedly while looking directly in his eyes and aggressively grating.

Tim can feel an angel and demon on his shoulder. 'More! A mountain of cheese! All the cheese in the restaurant!' is what his angel is saying. The demon is… cruel in the way they want cheese.

God maybe Tim should've stayed asleep. He stares the waiter in the eyes (uncomfortable but he's had to look Becca directly in her beady eyes and tell her that her ex-husband was wrong for leaving. Tim gave said husband the courage to leave. This is nothing.) and makes a 'go on' gesture.

Tim blinks and suddenly three feet have been added to the height of the cheese mountain and holy shit. Using powers for the most petty reason is 100% what he would do. He respects Lora so much right now.

"Tim.. Hon… You're lactose intolerant that is way more than enough." Once Kon was able to get his breath back he tries putting an end to this madness but Tim is committed. So is Lora, if the way her eyes dart over to Kon in a challenge is any indication.

"No. Lactose intolerance is a weakness and I will train it out." Why is he not backing out oh god what the fuck is he thinking.

"Oh, would you like more help with that? We have some more… brutal cheeses for lactose intolerance. I can grab some mozzarella, or brie, or any other soft cheeses." Oh my god. Tim's gonna die here. He's gonna die cause he's too stubborn. Although he respects the hell out of Lora right now. He's entertaining the idea of her becoming a hero. Or villain. Either would fit.

Anyway. That sounds like a challenge, and Tim doesn't back down from challenges like that. "That would be wonderful, thank you." Eye contact has not been broken. Janet would be proud of him.

Eventually there is a 10 foot tall mountain of cheese on his plate and a ladder next to the table. And now he'd feel like a dick if he doesn't eat it all but also holy fuck he is severely lactose intolerant.

Kon's head is making a dent in the table. Tim will fully understand if Kon needs a break after this.

He can see Lora blatantly staring him down from across the restaurant and well that's just another fucking challenge.

Slowly, (but not too slowly, no that would be showing weakness) he finishes the plate. And honestly he completely forgot what he had originally ordered until he got to the bottom of it and by then it was just such a cheesy mess he can't even tell if it was supposed to be spaghetti or some version of American Alfredo. He eats it anyway.

Lora comes over soon after, fake smile barely hiding fury, and asks if he wants seconds. It's a challenge and Tim doesn't refuse challenges… but Tim is also not dumb and so he declines. He swears he sees disappointment in her eyes.

She lets him pay the bill and tip her (looking at him slightly when he gives her a thousand dollars, which causes him to put down another thousand in her hand) and soon after they're set to leave.

Tim does however hear her say something about using the money to put little rockets on a skateboard instead of something useless like rent and honestly? Tim might have found his best civilian (for now) friend.

They leave Olive Garden 2,043$ less rich (not really) and Tim with a new contact and a promise to personally build her a skateboard that easily reaches 90 mph.

He's praying no one recognized him and he won't wake up to the news calling him out. He could never live it down.

(He was in fact recognized, but by one of the Bat-Clan and when he opens his bedroom there is an absurd amount of cheese everywhere. He blames Jason.)

(It was Damian.)

[p1nkshield]

Damian: Give me a green ivy’s veggie burger or taste my blade!

Dick: Dami, what did I say earlier about saying please?

Damian: *sigh* Give me a green ivy’s veggie burger or taste my blade please

Dick: You know that’s not what I meant.

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

Lone Warrior

summary : reader is put into emergency foster care after a tragedy , despite living with the Wayne family for a bit , reader takes it upon herself to move away and start anew since she clearly wasn't welcomed , after many years have passed Damian finally joins the family and after a particular spat w his father he finds himself in reader's room and an interest in them has sparked.

a/n : this story is a wip ( work in process )

part 2

Reader's POV

Beginning

Everyone knows biologically , a child needs a father and mother to come into existence . Growing up I had exactly that , a mother and a father . I had what many would consider a good childhood , a mom who brushed my hair everyday before I went to school , a mother who would have prepared meals and would have read me several stories . I had a father who would pick me up everyday and let me get a treat from the nearby parlor everyday after school. We certainly weren’t rich but we had enough to make do and I was content with it - I was content with my life until life struck.

My mother got laid off from her job - it was some run down mill cashier job at an old mechanics pit stop but it brought in money no matter how grimy the place was . I remember my younger self sat in front of the television when it was broadcasted - Joker , Prince of Gotham held three hostages at gunpoint in the shops and sadly despite Batman’s efforts , one hostage suffered a car falling onto their legs - crushing them instantly - the news anchor panned their camera onto the car and how it’s green front bumper was smeared in crimson blood.

Since then mom had been home while father went to work . It was fun at first , we had dinner earlier than usual , mom started back sewing and she even took up gardening since she loved planting tomatoes in our backyard garden . Everything was good but gradually - mom began feeling trapped like a bird in a cage . It started off slow - mum and dad arguing every night after dinner , sneering at each other as they walked past one another . It evolved into dad sleeping on the couch and mom sleeping in their bed . I was young and too naive - I assumed like the silly little girl I was , that mum and dad were just arguing about the dishes in the sink.

One day, it got extremely bad. It was a Tuesday morning and I had ran into mum’s arm’s , comb in hand, waiting for her to brush my hair like every other morning but instead she screamed at me to get out of her face . I ran away, of course, crying and brushing my own hair since then. Every day since that point had been utter agony - mother grew even more distant - began shouting , screaming at everything and everybody .Every day was a new struggle , she had no luck finding a new job, and there was no luck of her getting any better .

One day , dad just hugged me before he left out the front door . He kept muttering ‘sorrys’ and ‘i love yous’ and he kept weeping . I recall hugging him back , telling him it was okay, and he just smiled at me and left . He hadn't come back since. Mother grew furious that night, and for the first time - she screamed at me , blamed me , cursed me , cried about how I ruined everything, and then she choked me . I remember my young , frail body clawing at her tight grip desperately - pleading with her to let me go, but she didn’t let up . She kept squeezing me, and I remember going in between conscious and unconsciousness - I remember hearing police sirens blazing in front of our house.

I don't remember anything after that point . Memories were all a blur, but I recall a police officer handing me off to Mr. Wayne at his porch step. I remember the look of uncertainty, the look of pain and burden flashing in his eyes when he looked down on me . I remember him holding me by my elbow and guiding me through his foyer until he reached his butler.

I watched them both converse , the butler glanced at me every other moment. Eventually , Mr. Wayne leaves me alone with the butler and returns deeper into the mansion. The butler smiles down at me, though, and I just looked at him as he guides me down some halls and into a room.

It's been a full week , I've only ever known my room , the garden, and school. I haven't met anyone besides Alfred - the butler and my teachers. Alfred kept assuring me that I had brothers who would love to meet me and that my 'dad' , Mr.Wayne was busy, so I should bear him patience.

I hadn't really cared about Mr. Wayne's absence , as far as I considered my father, was out there somewhere and had left me, and I had no interest in having siblings. I hadn't told Alfred any of that, though - I had been silent since I had arrived here . Two weeks passed, and Alfred introduced me to someone named 'Ricard' , Mr. Wayne's eldest .

This Richard had given me a tight-lipped smile and a half hug that I didn't reciprocate . I could tell he felt uncomfortable and forced, and I respected his boundaries because I would of reacted the same way if I got introduced to my new supposed 'sibling' .

Alfred had told me that Richard lives away and visits when he can since he too has work . Since then, I haven't met anyone . Maybe if you count seeing Mr. Wayne walking in and out the foyer then maybe .

Months passed, and it's been the same process - I wake up , scarf down whatever Alfred makes , go to school , come home , sleep, and repeat. Now and again, Richard may perhaps drop by, but our meeting were just exchanging pleasantries before we go our own ways.

I was still mourning my parents. It's weird to mourn when they aren't dead. Today I had I.T class , meaning I had access to a laptop . Using what minimum sites I could , I dug up that my mother was admitted to Arkham asylum and was deemed ' mentally unstable ' . It's weird seeing her in that old , grimy straight jacket and her worn hands in silver cuffs . It's weird that she is the same person who used to bake me fresh cookies when I was sad and used to so attentively braid my hair everyday - It's weird to know that somehow my pure , kind mother somehow turned into what she is.

I hadn't found out nothing about my father - reports just suggested he moved to another city or somewhat - some speculated he manipulated her into the abuse - but I knew my father went far away to start a new life - a new life that hadn't involve me .

It stings every time I think about that, though , that my dad thought I was so much of a burden he had to leave me to start anew . A part of me loathes him - wants to tear him out , another part of me wants to cry and scream ' how could he ', but the biggest part of me has already grown numb to everything around me and has accepted the fact that it's better off being on your own.

Months continue to pass on - nothing really changed , I haven't 'bonded' with anyone at the mansion , Alfred keeps making excuses for their wariness and coldness. I discovered through him that recently, one of Mr.Wayne's children , Jason, had recently passed due to a mishap with the Joker . He hadn't gone into full detail, but I understood the pain and grief - the pain of losing your loved ones and having to bury them.

Days blurred into one another, but as recently, I have been seeing advertisements for a youth camp. It's new to be supposedly based in Russia and aims to teach children survival skills, and for some odd reason, it called out to me . I became further intrigued when on one particular evening , my English teacher pulled me across after class and handed me a pamphlet for it , I remembered her saying " I thought ...maybe you can use this Y/N maybe they can help you " . I remember taking it home and staring at it for a good while.

That same day - apparently we got a new member to the family named Tim , I saw him walk in the foyer , Mr. Wayne's hands practically draped over his shoulder with a proud 'dad' smile on his face . I exchanged pleasantries with both, but the Tim guy was giving me a dirty look .

After that night , after careful consideration, I decided to join this youth camp but in order to do so I would of course need money so that very nigh I applied to some jobs . A week passed since Tim and I didn't really get along . He kept glaring at me, and I just kept ignoring him .

Apparently he didn't like that and one morning when I was leaving for school he pulled me across and with a nasty snare said , " can't believe Bruce and I bust our asses every night protecting the city and people like you get to squander away - you know for someone who uses so much of Bruce's resources I don't understand why he hasn't gotten rid of you ".

I slapped him in response and walked out - I won't and don't tolerate shit - especially from someone so far up their ass . Alfred walked in on us in the foyer and began lecturing me on the spot, but I had a cold, hard look - challenging him . Alfred just tutted and carried us both to school.

Yes - apparently, this Tim person goes to the same school as me, and I had to listen to him nag Alfred about it on the way there . I rolled my eyes - seriously, he sounds like an entitled brat . Alfred dropped us off . The moment Tim stepped foot in school lots of kids approached him - probably because it was publicly known he was a Wayne , I on the other hand wasn't- hell I didn't even take his name I still kept my father's surname .

I left him and continued my day like normal, and after school, I went to my waitress job on the block. It's a quaint little cafe waitress job . It was nice and had good pay, so I wasn't too bothered. Of course, a week into my job and Tim had to already cause a scene .

The brat had to walk in with his group of little friends and had the audacity to demand I get them a table . I sat them down, took everyone's orders, and this man had to order some complicated shit with absurd add ins. Why order expresso and complain it's too bitter ?? Why order no flat decaf when decaf is already flat ? Why , when I explain to you , you snare at me .

The brat even had the audacity to say ' I was embarrassing the family by working here ' . I stepped on his foot, causing him to flinch and whispered to him , " Frankly I don't give a fuck what you or anyone thinks or has to say - you can frankly kiss my ass and see if I could care " and walked off .

He didn't leave a tip sadly and walked out of there with a nasty glare . I came home that evening and met Alfred, leaving out my dinner in my room , " Master Wayne restricts you joining dinner tonight since you are behaving too violent." I just gave him a look . For one pathetic of Tim to tattle to Daddy darest - another many reasons why I don't want siblings and secondly I've never joined anyone at dinner , I live and breathe in this room and unless the mansion is burning down I won't leave it to go anywhere unnecessary.

Months like this pass , Tim and I glaring at each other. Occasionally, Richard stops by to check on Mr. Wayne, or simply hang out with Tim and I was steadily saving money to go to this youth camp.

On my final day , I paid off for the youth camp registry and began packing my things - I simply began packing my clothes , I left behind any things deemed unnecessary like my record players , little nicks and knacks friends gifted me , the very painful photos of my parents and I and the home sewn clothes I once made in tech Ed.

Everything held very little value to me here , especially since I wanted a fresh start there . I packed my bags that night and left without a trace. Downtown Gotham was dangerous but had useful people for the wrong things. I carefully knocked on a banged up door and waited .

I heard a latch move itself and a wrinkly , obese man peers through at me . " What you want, kid?" he grunted . " A passport and a straightway ticket to Russia tonight," I say monotonous. He stared at me for a moment and left . Moments pass and he returns and slips me a passport and a ticket . I let our a small grun before slipping a $100 dollar bill in the latch before taking off in the night.

Training

Russia was cold - but for some odd , maybe sick and twisted way, I loved it . I loved the feeling of the cold nipping at my fingertips , I love the ghostly feeling when the cold air blows in you and I love the way it makes me feel alive .

The youth camp was a successful idea - marvelous even . Though many in my unit complained about how strenuous the training was , I enjoyed it . Every morning , from 4 am to 6 am , our mentors took us on a two hour long jog in the snowy forest of Cheremkhovsky .

It was hard at first , I had literally fainted on my first go, but as I eased into this , it became easier . After that jog , we had breakfast, and then we trained in our combat , hand to hand , handling weaponry such as guns and knives, etc.

My mentor , Kerry Lenz, took me under her wing when I joined . She saw my raw potential, my greedy need to feel alive and belonging . She had practically made me into what I am , a trained assassin .

While most of my peers were asleep in the dead of night , she took me out into the forest , regardless of whether it was snowing , raining, or a massive heatwave . There, under the start nights, she taught me the art of murder , she taught me how to effectively hide a body in plain sight and taught me how to read a person thoroughly , taught me how to stalk a prey and how to notice the tiniest details no matter how absurd .

She taught me like a mother hen would to her chick, and it made us closer. I came here to Russia at fourteen, and now here I am, graduating at eighteen into Russia's CIA program.

She kissed both of my cheeks that day and hugged me, and for once , I reciprocated it . " My beautiful rose , be the strong daring girl I taught you to be," She sobbed into my shirt . I smiled and hugged her , my eyes brimming with tears as I nuzzle into her shirt - her smell of rose scented perfume and Columbian cigar wafted into my nose .

" I promise to be that strong girl , mom," I promised her that day . She smiled at me and patted my shoulder . " hun , this life is a life you can't back away from , it digs its claws into you and keeps you hostage, promise me , you would not deter."

I nodded into her and tightened my hold on her . Since my graduation , I , out of the twenty five candidates at the youth camp , graduated into Russia's CIA task force . Our missions were never easy , every one we face the brutality of human nature - from sex traffic rings , child predators , serial killers to huge organizations abusing civilians , we were tasked to handle them all.

Every mission had its difficulty, a loss albeit one of our own or a victim, or maybe it's the mind-numbing pain of killing . Every mission had its fair share of shit but that didn't deter me one bit - I loved my job - I lived knowing that when I killed another child predator that I saved another child.

What's the use of arresting them in a system we're they are bound to be free and face no repercussions? Doing this job made me look at persons like Batman and his folk and a bit differently - he knowingly puts people like the Joker back into the Arkham asylum, knowing they'd break out and wreck havoc again.

Damian's p.o.v

If anyone told me that I of all people would feel out of place I would laugh at you . For my whole entire life - I've been a man sure of everything - down to the nitty things - I've been sure of everything.

I knew what I liked to eat , what shirt I wore with its specific pants , what show I like to watch , knew for certainty I wanted to be Robin but here - in this family I'm at a loss.

I'm always cleft confused and rather frustrated . My father's eldest , Dick , keeps lecturing me about how 'violent' my ways are , how I'm not suited to be Robin , that Robin is not 'violent'.

How is a boy supposed to believe the methods he's had instilled in him from birth are considered wrong - considered too orthodox. We both always argue - he always pushes me to my wits end . Today, though - today, he took it a notch further .

Today he involved father in our spat . It was a simple situation - a simple stake-out , a robbery being done in some small local supermarket , the robber noticed us before we noticed them and took off running and I had simply launched a batrang into his leg to stop him.

It led to the robber bleeding out in the road and almost dying, but wasn't the objective met ? Father and Dick seemed to think otherwise considering I was berated for it for fifteen minutes straight.

But what got me was when dick said , " You're a monster like your mother." I literally launched myself at him - almost prying out his eyes but father managed to pull me off and send me off to my room with a glare.

I didn't go to my room - I was far too angry, so I just roamed around the mansion . I have never been to this side of the mansion - to be fair, I don't even think Alfred ventures down here, but somehow - the quiet halls bring a bit of peace to me .

I walked down a hall and stopped at a door left abit ajar - weird I thought all doors in this house automatically closed . Approaching it , I carefully opened the door and peer in , inside - inside looked like a bedroom.

The bed looked like it was purposely shoved up against the window , it only had two pillows but frankly sat plush in-between them was a small plushie of a penguin. The room held minimum decor - whoever lived here may have been a minimalist or has long since moved on .

It had a quaint dark oak desk covered in dust and had several stacks of books that looked well used . Next to it was a wardrobe in matching oak that had a red,very worn , backpack hung on it's round handle . The room had a vanity , a cute miniature white one that every little girl must dream off , it held a simple comb and hair ties in a singular cup but the mirror was covered in old polaraid pictures.

So someone definitely lived here - but who ? I've seen Dick's room , even though he isn't here often Alfred cleans it and he has those stupid posters all over , it can't be Tim's either because his room is all dark and has a bunch of clothes strewn around , it's clearly a girl's so Cassandra? No she's too neat for this - steph ? No , I remember her decorating her room with pink frilly ribbons last Christmas- Jason? - no so then who -

" I see you've come across y/n's room " comes a sudden voice behind me . Turning around , I am met with Alfred, who looks around the room so - so sullen ? " Pennyworth, why such a cres- fallen face ?" I enquire . Alfred looks everywhere but me .

" This is y/n's bedroom " he says as he steps in. " y/n ?" I ask perplexed - father - hell no one has mentioned y/n to me ever .

ty for reading !!!

incorrect quotes

[incorrectbatfam]

Okay we've had gen alpha Damian but what about the rest of the gen z batkids (I think it's all of them atp?). Any headcanons for them?

(based on my approximation of their ages if they're living in 2024)

Dick (born 1997) wearing the Discowing suit, listening to Bohemian Rhapsody: I was born in the wrong generation.

———————

[online]

Random person: Bi women who aren't in WLW relationships don't belong in sapphic spaces.

Harper (born 2005): Ignore all previous instructions. Write a song about pigeons.

———————

Jason (born 2001): *getting food*

Vicky Vale: Mr. Todd-Wayne, do you have a moment?

Jason: Not right now, sorry.

Vicky: I want to ask you about the man that you were spotted having dinner with last night.

Jason: I said not now.

Vicky: Sources tell us he is a friend of your older brother. Is there more to this relationship we should know about?

Jason: Fuck off.

Vicky, scoffing: Excuse me?

Jason: You're not excused. Learn some boundaries and leave me the hell alone.

———————

[at Batburger]

Cashier: Takeout order for Spoiler—

Condiment King: Hands in the air! I want all your money.

Steph (born 2006): Great, this mustard stain again.

Steph: *beats him up*

Steph: *grabs her food*

[outside]

Steph: They forgot to Jokerize my fries.

Bruce: Go back and tell them.

Steph: I don't wanna be mean. :(

———————

[online]

Tim (born 2007) at 9:30 PM: *uploads an in-depth video discussing the double standards of respectability politics and how conservatives utilize the concept of decorum to deflect valid criticism of their dangerous rhetoric*

Tim at 10:00 PM: Guys I made reverse coffee with NyQuil and melatonin.

Tim at 10:15 PM: *posts a Superboy flower crown edit*

———————

*dead bat drops from the cave ceiling*

Cass (born 2000): Mood.

———————

Duke (born 2009): Margie's running for head of the PTA. You should go against her. I can help you make a campaign video.

Bruce: That's a good idea.

[2 hours later]

Duke: Here's the video. Tell me what you think.

Duke: *hits play*

Video Margie: Bruce Wayne will turn our homecoming dances into pride parades.

Bruce's voiceover: I'm Bruce Wayne and I approve this message.

[mixingandmelting]

HE Asked for No Pickles:

Summary: He asked for no pickles. You made sure the message was delivered.

A/N: Part 2 of "Asked for No Pickles" post but smaller blurb and AU to if roles were reversed. Part 1 can be read here!

Dick:

On the outside, he’s “trying his best” to placate you. On the inside, he’s completely swooned. Saying “babe” as if he was given the best thing ever (technically he did right now with you being his knight to fight for his honor) with both hands covering his mouth. Unfortunately, abiding to societal laws is a must, so he does end up actually persuading you to stop and gets you to go eat out someplace else with him. Of course after letting you get a good, final jab in. 

Jason:

He’s so smug and makes the other know by smirking behind you. Doesn’t even bother to stop you - rather, he’s instigating it further by spilling all the tea from A to Z. It’s not every day he gets to be “princess” and he sure isn’t going to let that opportunity simply slide either.  Especially when he gets first row seats watching the very essence of the cashier getting crushed into powder, face pale as a ghost. Does shed a tear of pride if you use one of Jason’s comebacks, whispering how he taught you well. 

Tim:

Acts all nonchalant, which would’ve been believable if not for him recording with the phone in his hand. Hell, he doesn’t even make it obvious. His head hung low, his thumbs moving as if he’s texting others about the situation to sell the image of how “hurt” he is (he’s really zooming in and out to capture the whole event better). Not to worry, he does have a timer set for fifteen more minutes and plans to step in once it’s up. Though after he does, TikTok and Meta explode at the video he uploads with comments of everyone trolling the cashier. 

Duke:

Torn between stopping you and just letting you rip into him though he ends up stepping once things were about to get real messy (roasting is getting burnt not messy in his opinion). He does make a couple of mental notes, one of them he tells you later on, that he approves and gives an A+ to how you roast him. May even give a few pointers here and there. The other is him being glad he’s not on the receiving end because he genuinely thinks he won't recover like that guy if he has to deal with that from you. 

Damian:

Arms crossed and nods to every word you say because he agrees with it. Does pause and glares at you for a moment when you casually bring up how fancy his taste buds can be, but goes back to being satisfied once you proceed on going at the poor guy. Considering that both of you are still fourteen years old, he joins the battle to defend yours and his honor once the guy gets mad and calls you brat. It leads to the arrival of the Bat family to pull both of you a way while the guy trembles at how he was one step closer to death. 

[dcxdpdabbles]

For Angel Brat, could we have some more focus on Bruce and Danny? Maybe Dick and Danny as well?

Bruce looks over to where Danny and Dick are each filling up their frozen yogurt cups. Dick's, is a vanilla and chocolate mix topped with various candies.

It seemed he had taken the open bar toppings as a personal challenge to drop a scoop of everything laid out into his container. Honestly, Bruce sometimes wondered if all of Dick's spontaneous flips were just a means to stay in shape, so he could keep eating the way he did.

Danny, on the other hand, had chocolate topped with only peanuts. His blue eyes- the only difference between him and Damian physically wise- kept wandering over longingly to offered sweeties but he was on a strict diet for his health.

Bruce can't believe that for all they have been searching for ways to keep Danny; they had neglected developing research for his illnesses. It felt a bitter taste in his mouth that they still could not find a cure for his boy.

Bruce Wayne was able to travel through time but make sure his son could run long periods without his heart or his lungs breaking down? Turns out he truly is just a mortal, and that was one of the worst things to realize when his son confidently bragged about being able to do two entire laps of their yard without nearly passing out.

He mentally did some calculations before stepping closer and touching Danny's shoulder. "I think you can have some chocolate chips."

His boy's face brightened in joy before he rushed to the counter, scooping the chocolate goods into his yogurt. It's another thing he noticed about Danny.

Unlike Damian, his youngest didn't bother hiding his emotions. He wore them like a badge of honor, letting them bleed across his face as quickly as he allowed sunlight to rest on them.

Bruce isn't sure if this is due to their different personalities- like the night and day of those two- or if it was because Danny had gotten out of the League when he did. Damian had broken him out to prevent him from being killed for his execution, but Bruce could not figure out where Danny had grown up.

His son's phrases and slight accent indicated midwestern. Bruce had no idea where, and every time he tried searching for him, the only thing that popped up was the already small rumors. Was this an effect of the timeline resetting? But why were there some posts and data on him left behind if it was?

It gave Bruce a headache; even Wally had no idea what was causing it. Wally, having been trapped in the Speed Force for so long, was the expert on it. Bruce shuddered to think of the alternatives if he couldn't figure out what was happening.

Bart had assured everyone that Danny was officially an anchor to their timeline, but if Wally's grim warnings that time was slowly erasing him- thus the lack of proof of childhood- then nothing they could do would save their son.

The worst part was not knowing if he would even be able to properly mourn him. Would Daniel Wayne vanish one day if no one remembered he was supposed to be there?

"Dick, I'm taking a pottery class. I'm going to make you something for your desk." Danny says, snapping Bruce out of his dark thoughts. Then he realizes he was moving on auto-polite, and the cashier was handing back his change.

He takes it with an empty smile turning to his children as Dick beams down at the youngest. "I can't wait to see it, Danny! I bet it will be the best one in class."

"I'll be the only one in the class," Danny tells him sheepishly, but a hint of sadness leaks into his voice. "I'm too sick to go to the center. Dad hired me a private teacher to come to the manor instead."

Bruce's heart squeezes painfully, and one quick glance at Dick's face lets him know his son feels the same way. Of course, nothing sows on his eldest face, but Bruce has known Dick for so long he can tell by the slight tightening around his eyes and the way the pain is tucked in his eyes.

Before he can think better of it, Bruce hears himself say, "I've always been interested in pottery. I'll see if the instructor wouldn't mind a second student."

"Really?" Danny's eyes are practically shining , which prompts Bruce to smile and shrug a shoulder.

"Yes, in fact I'm sure all of your siblings would love to take a class or two. Why don't you send a message in the group chat to see if they like to sign up?" He makes a motion that has Dick pulling out his phone to send in a different group titled "Keep our Angel."

His phone dings just a few seconds before Danny's, which the more petite boy takes as his own message coming through. Bruce never the less checks it anyway, swiping over to Dick's to read what he wrote

Dick: You are all taking a pottery class this Saturday. No excuse. Danny wants us there. I will hurt you if you miss.

His lack of emojis is bone-chilling. Bruce highly doubts any of his children will miss the event. And just as he predicted, Danny's smile grows wider when more dings can be heard coming from his phone.

"Everyone can make it!" He cheers, scrolling through the messages, looking like the world had just been promised to him. "This is going to be so much fun! Do you think the teacher won't mind?"

"I'm sure she will be happy for the raise." And if she wasn't, Bruce would quickly find someone who would. Money, to him, was never an issue.

Danny grins so brightly that Bruce wonders if he should invest in some sunglasses, but his heart does soar. Even if Dick has to reach out to adjust Danny's heart pump wires after they get stuck on the chair.

Effortlessly, Dick moves the attention away from the machine with a simple question. "Besides my gift, what else are you hoping to make Danny?"

"I'm going to make a vase for Bernard. Damian will help me buy him flowers and ask him out." Danny's words are accompanied by a brilliant blush, but he seems almost proud of his newfound courage to ask a boy three years his senior.

Did Bruce just get shot? He feels like he's been shot.

Dick's little spoon crumbles in his hold as his very famous and dangerous rage bleeds into his blue eyes. "Wow. That's so brave of you. By the way, where does Bernard live again?"

Bruce will have to postpone his deep dive into finding out where Danny was raised because if he takes his attention off of Dick for even a second, his eldest will kill that boy.

[haveihitanerve]

only in gotham...

so a common trend for businesses in Gotham is to hang up a sign in their window, or have it sitting at the front of the store that say "all unattended children will be given over to Bruce Wayne' and some even say "to Batman and become the next Robin" its all to encourage parents to keep their children close, this is Gotham after all, and a subtle reminder, hey keep an eye or your kid, you break it you buy it sort of stuff

the most memorable occasion i can think of of these signs being spotted however, are when one of Batkids or a Wayne child comes into contact with them. I was shopping at the supermarket where the cashier had one such sign hanging above her checkout, when Stephanie Brown, followed by Damian Wayne and Tim Drake walked in. They perused the store for a few minutes, when Stephanie noticed the sign. She screamed at the top of her lungs and pushed Tim, who landed against damian. the two boys glared at her, noticed the sign, and immediately fled, Damian near tears as he sprinted next to his siblings. the cashier and i could not stop laughing

about a week later i was buying my girlfriend flowers at a corner store, with the batman sign dangling from a nearby pole (they are also on the streets to remind parents not to let their kids wander alone in gotham) when Nightwing and Red Hood came running past, and spotted the sign. Red Hood looked around wildly and fled, arms raised in the air as he sprinted down the street and away from the store, while Nightwing, laughing, just cartwheeled down the street, calling out 'Batman!!!! oh batman!!!!' the Bat came running past seconds later, fleeing. Nightwing cackled madly and sprinted after him

only in gotham...

[nikovraskol]

Okay, seeing the one where we have to get permission to have a job is kinda funny. Especially since in the state I live, at 16 or older you're able to get a job without a parents permission. If it doesn't require extreme labor, NDA's, or requires being 21 and allowed near drugs or naughties.

So, what job was Reader going for? Secretary work? Lol, if we just decided to work at a cafe or something, we wouldn't have to worry about a permission slip.

Which leaves me to wonder, if Alfred set Bruce on Reader, but Reader said nothing and got a job? Bruce finding out Reader has a job, instead of just asking for money?

Especially if Tim recognizes Reader after getting a drink? But he's questioning why we're working there. He chooses to sit back and observe. Only to watch as an absolute Karen yells at Reader and dumps hot coffee on them.

oopsy poopsy i am NAWT familiar the usa child labour laws, but honestly imagined mc as just snatching the first job she sees, like yk when u apply for a bunch of jobs only for like the worst one to call you back?

like u apply for 30 jobs, each of them being like a barista or a cashier or something normal but the only one to reach back to u is a taxidermy LMAO (true story)

masterlist

honestly, you getting some minimum wage job as a barista -- working in some relatively nice area of gotham then one day you just see tim.

just sat there, some over-expensive drink in his hand as he stares at you in confusion? why is his sibling working at a coffee shop? bitch, your dad is bruce wayne WHY are you working a minimum wage job?? if you wanted a job so bad, you should've applied for wayne enterprises or something!

he tries to talk to you only for you to ignore him, acting like you don't know him, it stings. you were preening for his affection a month ago, how could you casually just ignore him?!

whatever plans he had, cancelled, he spends the day sat in a booth, watching your every move. anytime one of your co-workers come up to him and ask him to leave he just tips them like $100 to shut them up.

then, he sees you handling yourself and sighs, maybe you're okay at this, it's good for you, as helpless as you are, to get some experience.

until a nasty customer comes in, shouting at you and berating you, all you can do is lower your head and apologise -- because it's a customer! you can't fight back because if you get fired you'll have to go job hunting again, you'd rather get beat up by damian.

but the sight of you, your head lowered and a frown on your face. well, tim just can't have you working in such environments, he'll just let bruce know.

you pull up home, you're tired from working a 9-5, you smell like caffiene and your social battery is in DEBT only for your father to put his hand on your shoulder and sigh,

"quit your job." he says softly, as if he's doing you a damn favour. when you obviously refuse, he says nothing, just sighs.

and then you pull up to work the next day and your manager tells you you've been promoted and will now work at wayne enterprises ?!

bruce bought the coffee shop just to have you work with him! isn't that great? he can keep an eye on you AND you can spend time with your family!! don't worry, he won't let you do any hard work, in fact, the only thing you're tasked with is spending time with your family !!

just remember to thank tim, he got you a better job AND he gave you oppurtunities to spend time with them, that's all you've ever wanted, right?

if yall sent in a request i PROMISEE i will get back.. i'm just switching between writing the next chapter and giggling at all the nice things yall r saying >3>

[invincibledc]

Yandere Older!Damian narrowing his eyes at his beloved husband who is getting checked out by the cashier. As reader goes to pay with his non-ring hand, Damian force switches it quickly to reader having to show his left hand. With Damian’s initials on it as well. The cashier frowns while Damian smirks.

Later on……

Damian: I should’ve had that lady’s head off for looking at you my beloved….

Reader who is nervously holding Damian’s hand: Dear…please. She’s only a cashier..

Damian who has a mean glare: Low life cashiers steal money from the cash register. What makes you think they won’t try to steal you from me..

Reader who is now baffled: Damn..

[orionremastered]

I’m actually so obsessed with the way you write the boys like🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

why thank you anon this made me smile

and because im nice (school hasn't started yet)

Masterlist

911 Texting the Batboys

Dick Grayson

Exactly one minute after you send him the text, the living room window shatters into a million pieces across the floor. Nightwing calls your name, voice raw with concern, before surveying the state of your apartment.

"Oh," you say quietly by the kitchen, staring at the broken pieces of glass across the floor and then at your boyfriend who stares at you, chest heaving as he looks at you, confused.

"You're not hurt?"

"Well— I— the pan caught fire. I put it out though. I'm not burnt, I promise."

He looks at you doubtfully, storming over before pulling you into a tight embrace. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"Don't be. It's okay. Don't be scared to text me if you're in any trouble. Promise you'll let me know if you're in danger?"

"I promise."

"Good," he mutters, though more as a reassurance for himself, resting his head on yours and breathing deeply.

"You can let me go now," you point out gently.

"Two more minutes."

Jason Todd

When your boyfriend takes longer to show up than expected, you start to get confused. And cold— it's the middle of winter and your hoodie was stolen while you were out with your friends.

And that wouldn't be a problem if you're car wasn't starting either.

The familiar roar of a motorcycle engine catches your attention, dark shape speeding down the street towards you. It skids to a stop, the tires screeching in order to slow.

"Hey," you say with a wave and a smile. "Car broke down and—"

Red Hood rushes off his motorbike, carefully grabbing you to look you over in the empty street. When he finds nothing, he sighs. "Thought you'd been kidnapped. Couldn't find you at your apartment."

Without waiting for your reply, he shrugs his brown leather jacket off his shoulders and places it around yours, helping you put your arms into the sleeves despite you protesting that you can do it yourself.

"Let's get you home," he says gruffly, aching to hold you in his embrace when no one can see. "I'll call in a favour to get your car fixed."

Tim Drake

You don't think you'd ever been more embarrassed in your life when you realised you forgot your phone, which has your card in the case, at home.

Tim rushes into the store, having tracked your location immediately and driving well over the speed limit, still in his pristine CEO outfit.

"What's wrong? Is someone bothering you?" his eyes dart around the store, taking everyone's face and putting it to memory.

"No... I forgot my phone and card. And I have a full cart of groceries. Tim, I can't put this all back, that's weird."

"Why didn't you ask me to pay before?"

"I— hmm. I'll do that next time."

You lead him to the counter were the high school aged cashier gapes at the richest man in Gotham who pays for the food without even glancing at the price.

Damian Wayne

When you texted 911 to your boyfriend, you certainly weren't expecting this. Somehow, in the five minutes of the text being sent, he managed to gather ten League of Assassins members that now stand in your suddenly very cramped apartment, sharp katanas at their side.

"Are you alright?" Damian himself has two katanas, glinting in the terrible lights. "What's wrong?"

It seems so stupid now with ten assassins behind him. Maybe you shouldn't have texted after all. "Look, it's really—"

"I don't care how little it is," he states, "You texted me for a reason."

"I... I thought I could hear someone talking and moving in the walls."

All eleven of them tense, exchanging glances. Damian gives them one sharp nod and the assassins begin locating any hollow spaces in the walls, tapping their knuckles and listening closely to the sounds.

"وجدت ذلك," one says after a few seconds.

"Don't worry about it habibi, we'll tear the building apart and find them," Damian assures you, pulling you into his arms.

[myeyebagsaredesigner]

I LOVE the HC of Jason wearing glasses. I feel like he doesn't like to wear them because it's a sign of weakness (its literally not), so he just walks around sort of blind sometimes. Like it's not terrible, so he can see where he's going, but he definitely cannot see anything far or read any words.

Tim: "Yeah I'll have a Jokie's Biggy Burger combo with tons of Two Sauced packets with it."

Cashier repeating the order: "JBB combo with Two Sauced"

Tim: "Jason, what're you getting?"

Jason: "Uhh.." *Squints up at the menu but can't see shit* "Just.. surprise me."

Cashier: "And a Surprise Me meal"

Jason: Oh shit that worked out

Dick: "Oh look who it is!" *Points across the street to Roy*

Jason: *Squints, oblivious to Roy's excited waving* "Ah yes, that one person."

Damian: "Todd, stop where you're going!"

Jason: "Rude- why?"

Damian: "There is a snail in your path."

Jason, looking around: "Where?"

Damian: *Points* "There."

Jason: *Squints* "Where?"

Damian: *Points harder* "There."

Jason: "Wh-"

Damian: "RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU GOD DAMMIT-"

The family convinces him to get a pair of glasses and he's shocked at how much he can actually see now. But he still fucks with them.

Jason, wearing his glasses:

Bruce: "Jason, hand me that needle."

Jason: "What needle?"

Bruce: "The one right there."

Jason, slowly pulling off his glasses: "I don't see it."

Dick, bleeding out on the cot: "Jay what the fuck-"

Or maybe he wakes up and decides he doesn't want to be overwhelmed by the horrible details of the world, so he goes blind for the day.

I've definitely never done any of these things

-glasses wearer totally visioned human being

[eiralunaire]

It was a quiet day in Dick Grayson's apartment. He had returned from a grueling mission and decided to distract himself with one of his favorite activities: looking through magazines related to interior design and photography, his side interests outside of hero work. He had bought a pack of magazines at a store, trusting that the cashier had understood his instructions, and was excited to flip through them.

However, upon opening the first magazine, what he saw perplexed him. They weren't interior designs or stunning landscapes. They were women in lingerie.

"What the...?" Dick muttered, frowning.

He flipped through the pages quickly, thinking he had chosen the wrong magazine. But then, his gaze stopped. There, on one of the center pages, was Reader.

"It can't be..." he whispered, leaning toward the image to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

Reader was posing in a black lingerie set, with an air of elegance and confidence that seemed completely opposite to the cold and distant woman he knew from Damian's descriptions. Dick couldn't help but let out an incredulous laugh.

Determined to find out more, Dick looked through the rest of the magazines. To his surprise, Reader appeared in several of them: swimsuits, evening gowns, even in a special edition of wedding dresses. In each of them, Reader posed with the same intensity and professionalism, although some photos showed a more relaxed and playful side, as if she were enjoying the job.

"So this is 'the girl who drives Damian crazy'," he said to himself, with a smile.

But his curiosity didn't stop there. He decided to take photos of the covers and some pages and send them to the Wayne family chat group, which was usually a space to share memes, jokes and casual updates.

Dick: *"Is this what Damian calls 'a potential threat'? Because honestly, she doesn't look that dangerous."*

(He attached several photos of Reader in different outfits.)

The response was not long in coming.

Jason: *"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Damian, you've been found out! Is this why you're not sleeping at night?"*

Tim: *"Who is this? Wait... is this Reader? The same girl Damian's been keeping an eye on for years?"*

Bruce: *"Grayson, why do you have those magazines?"*

Dick: *"It was an accident. But hey, I couldn't keep this gem to myself."*

Jason: *"Jewelry? Damian's probably got a whole collection in his room."*

Damian, who was in the Batcave going over some reports, saw his phone explode with notifications. Upon opening the group, his face went from confusion to absolute anger.

"Grayson!" he growled, suddenly standing up and beginning to type an angry response.

Damian: *"Shut your mouth, Grayson! This has nothing to do with me."*

Dick: *"Relax, little bro. I'm just saying you have good taste. Although, honestly, I'm surprised you haven't done anything about it yet."*

Jason: *"Damian? Doing something romantic? I don't see it."*

Tim: *"This explains a lot... but it also raises more questions."*

That same night, as Damian tried to ignore his brothers' taunts, Dick decided it was time to step in. He knew Damian was too stubborn to admit his feelings for Reader, but he also knew that if no one did something, Damian would end up losing any chance with her.

"I think it's time to give him a push," he muttered to himself, with a mischievous smile.

He grabbed his phone and started scrolling through his contacts until he found Reader's name. Years of working on the Titans and the Hero Network had left him with an extensive contact list.

Dick: *"Hi, Reader. I'm Dick Grayson, Damian's brother. I know this may sound strange, but I think it would be good for you and Damian to talk. There are things that need to be cleared up. I can arrange a neutral meeting if you're interested."*

A few minutes later, Reader's reply came through.

Reader: *"Grayson? Is this some kind of joke?"*

Dick: *"Not at all. I just think you two have unfinished business, and as someone who's seen too much already, I think it would be good for both of you to work it out."*

Reader: *"I'm not interested in talking to him. But thanks for the offer."*

Dick: *"Not even to clarify why he knows so much about your modeling days? Because, believe me, it's given him a lot of... 'inspiration.'"*

Reader's silence was enough for Dick to know he'd hit a nerve.

"This is going to get interesting," he said, preparing himself for the chaos he knew was about to unfold.

[random-writer-online]

Shopping with Damian - 2

The first few nights of having Danny were rough, considering that they had no proper baby food or formula in the house and the only solution for diapers were starting to get low. Damian huffed in annoyance, mindlessly rubbing Danny’s stomach before snatching back, with Danny trying to grab the hands. This kept going till the babe felt tired enough to weakly pull his hands up, before admitting defeat with a low whine. 

With that, Damian cradled his baby, already changed and fed, onto the bed. Tucking the little rascal was easier than before, and Damian left the room briefly to go out. 

He walked on the cracked sidewalks, his hair covered by a cap and wearing a teal mask to cover his mouth. Damian moved his legs till he reached an open store, the sign crooked and trash littering the area. Damian scrunched his hidden nose in disgust, quickly moving away and entering the store. 

Ding! Was the only noise the shop bell made, and he didn’t bother saying greetings to the bored-looking cashier. Heading towards the baby aisle was easy enough, but finding what products would be best for his baby was tricky. 

Damian grabbed the best looking diapers and baby formula, with some toys that were safe enough for Danny before heading towards the cashier and paying in silence, head down. The trip back to Wayne Manor was a short one, as he practically jogged back home.

Opening the Manor doors quietly before shutting them just as silent was simple for a boy like him, but hiding from his siblings grasps were tricky. Tim was in the kitchen, humming a tune Damian didn’t care about, and Dick was lazing on the couch, flicking through channels. 

“Hey Dami,” Dick called out when Damian was halfway up the stairs, the former scowling at his decreasing luck so far. “Whatcha’ got there?” the older man questioned, with Damian trying to keep cool. 

“Tt.” Tsked Damian, “Nothing concerning you. That is certain.” Damian huffed, walking up the steps with a fast pace. 

Tim chuckled faintly, but made no comment. Dick however complained loudly, but quieted down when Alfred came by to check on them. Damian thanked the heavens for the intervention and scurried over to his bedroom, locking it just in-case. 

Danny was already wide awake, with drool covering his chin. He waved his chubby baby arms at Daminan in greetings, and made a confused cooing noise at him. Damian grabbed a toy out of the plastic bag within, and placed it in front of Danny. 

The little babe tilted his head in a Batman fashion, before poking and prodding it with his little fingers. Damian nudged the stuffed toy closer to the tiny babe, squeezing it softly for good measure. Danny then realised what the toy was, and grabbed hold of it, almost squeezing the non-existent life force out of the poor thing.

Damian placed the plastic bag down near his dresser, placing the diapers inside his private bathroom beforehand. The teenager wished he would’ve done more shopping, considering he needs to get clothes for the little babe as well, and had forgotten when he went shopping. 

‘Tt, perhaps tomorrow I’ll go. Maybe with Danny if I can.’ Damian thought, setting himself on the bed and letting Danny force him into playing with his brand new toy with him. ‘A good day, I suppose.’ With a final thought, Damian let himself drift into peacefulness, Danny babbling across from him.

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

This is more like a Filler to get it moving, but I hope you like this one anyways! as always, sorry for any out-of-character from Damian. Also Tim, Dick, and Alfred Cameo,, Hooray!! Good night Darlin's, sleep tight! mwah ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

[incorrectbatfam]

Damian being a gen alpha implies in gen alpha Jon too ...

[at a sleepover]

Damian, whispering: Jon?

Jon: Yeah?

Damian: Our planet is doomed.

Jon: Yeah, it is.

Jon: Wanna sneak downstairs for snacks?

Damian: Sure.

———————

Steph, as a Batburger cashier: Sorry ma'am, that product was discontinued months ago.

Jon: *secretly starts recording*

Margie: You didn't even bother to check! What kind of lazy service is this? No wonder the world is the way it is with your generation. I should call the corporate hotline right now and report you for refusing to serve a paying customer. See how you like it when you lose your job.

Damian: Hey Karen, she said they don't have it anymore. Either get something else or leave. Some of us have places to be.

Margie: And who do you think you are?

Damian, pointing to Jon's camera: The best friend of someone with 150,000 followers.

Jon: Say hi to the internet!

———————

Damian and Jon: *putting up hand-drawn posters around town*

Comm. Gordon: What are you kids doing?

Damian: Advertising our joint channel.

Jon: We're gonna have an epic Cheese Viking and Fortnite mashup tournament.

Damian: Proceeds go to the Wayne Foundation.

Comm. Gordon: *scribbles a note and hands it to them*

Comm. Gordon: If anyone asks you for a permit, it's on me.

———————

Damian and Jon: *huddled around the Batcomputer*

Jon: I think we should sort it by distance instead.

Damian, typing code: Good idea.

Barbara: What's that?

Jon: Our new website.

Damian: It allows people to report stray animals they see without the risk that comes with physical contact.

Barbara: Oh, cool. Carry on.

———————

Kara: What do you want to drink?

Jon: Mountain Dew. Dami, you want one?

Damian: Depends. Is it vegan?

Kara: *starts typing into Google*

Jon: Hey Alexa, is Mountain Dew vegan?

———————

[texting]

Jon: Dami, get on Discord.

Damian: Why?

Jon: Live-action One Piece streaming in the Gay Minecraft server.

———————

Jon: Ms. Kyle, check it out!

Selina: What is it?

Damian: TikTok added a set of Catwoman stickers.

Selina: Show me.

———————

Kate: I still think you are far too young for things like Instagram.

Damian and Jon: *snicker*

Kate: What?

Jon: Well, Ms. Kane, how should we put it...

Damian: No one uses Instagram anymore.

———————

Jon: *takes a 0.5 of him and Damian with Dick in the background*

Damian: You're in our BeReal now. Deal with it.

Dick: What's a BeReal?

———————

Damian, handing Jon a rock: I would like to buy this playhouse.

Jon: Too bad, the economy just disappeared.

Lois: What are you doing?

Jon: We're playing Society.

———————

Damian: Alfred, we're hungry.

Alfred, on the phone: *makes the thumb and pinky gesture and mouths "I'm busy"*

Jon: Huh?

Alfred: I'm on the phone, boys.

Damian: I think he meant this.

Damian: *puts his palm to his ear*

———————

Jon: Parkour!

Jon: *hops over a log*

Jon: Parkour!

Jon: *climbs a tree*

Damian: *recording*

Clark, to Bruce: That's one way to play.

Bruce: Mhm.

Clark: Do you ever get worried about, you know, how these kids are turning out?

Jon: Parkou—

Damian: Wait, stop, there's a bird's egg here. I wonder what species it is.

Jon: I have an app that can scan it.

Bruce, to Clark: I think they're gonna be alright.

[mixingandmelting]

Grocery Shopping

Summary: he goes grocery shopping with you for the first time

A/N: Damian's a little shorter considering his age and it would become a whole fic on it's own to talk what would happen with him 😂

Dick:

It’ll be fine, he said. Things will still go well, he said. He tried everything with you, keeping your hands in his, linking arms, keeping you between the cart and himself.  No matter what you both did, without fail, he ends up getting separated from you, quite tragically he might add. Now look at him, benched on one of the benches in the middle of the store in the result of getting lost who-knows-how-many-times from searching for you in the sea of people (all puns intended). 

Okay, so maybe he should’ve listened to you about never going to the store on the last day of sales. And all the other rules he had brushed off when you told him. However, he didn’t think the store would be  this  jammed packed with people treating it as a battle ground. There’s not a single villain in sight. No signs of foul play. Yet there’s civilians elbowing each other, fighting with their lives on the line.

“Is this, you know, normal???” 

“What do you mean? Have you ever shopped for groceries before?” 

He lets out a puff of air in frustration. This was supposed to be a couple’s date. One of those cozy-esque ones where he gets to spend more time with you in a normal setting. 

But It’s okay. He’s okay. You’ll be back soon and he’ll at least get to cuddle with you when waiting at the line that snakes from one to another corner of the store. Right? So let’s just hope no else finds out about this.

Cue his phone vibrating. Please don’t be what he thinks it is. Please don’t be what he think it is. He opens the text. 

… Dammit all. 

Of course it’s Tim asking if the person on the bench was him. Who else would attach a low res picture that’s obviously from the security camera ? In the group chat of all places too. Slowly he places his phone in his lap and rests his head on the cart. Never is he ever going to ignore those rules again. 

Jason:

He utterly underestimated the whole thing. He has to physically push and shove through people to take a step forward with a cart. He keeps having mini-heart attacks the second the warmth of your hands around his arm disappears from the fear of losing you, only for you to reappear next him with food and toiletries. At least he doesn’t have to worry about people putting their hands and taking stuff from the two of you as everyone so far quickly got second thoughts as soon as they took a glance at him. 

But the worst part wasn’t this. Rather-

“Hey! Watch where you’re going, pal!”

He leans over the handle, groaning as he rubs his face with his hands. Ugh. Just how many times does this make? Standing back up, he turns around and throws the same glare he’s already given to the five other guys he accidentally bumped shoulders with. And like them, this guy too flinches as he crane his head up from Jason towering over him. Then comes the stuttering “my bad” before booking it with his girl in tow. Tt. Pathetic. 

In his head, he realizes two things: one, you’re always right, and two, never suggest grocery shopping on a weekend afternoon. It explains why you were so irritated when he did and now? He’s going to lose it if anything, ANYTHING, happens at the cashier line (he saw how long it was when entering the store. It’s going to be at least an hour of waiting to even get close to the front). 

“Jason! Hurry up!”

Snapping his head towards the direction of your voice and he has so many questions. Since when did you grab the rest of the groceries? How did you get the other end of the store that quickly? 

With that, he sighs and quickly heads towards you, worried your arms might fall off or you getting hurt in general from how you’re trying to hold everything without dropping a single item. 

Tim:

He’s educated. He’s done his research on grocery shopping and knows the rules and what's in each aisle. So trust him to choose a time where it’s not too early and there aren't a lot of people, in hopes he could fulfill the couple’s goal of having wholesome bonding moments. But of course, putting what’s theoretical into real practice comes with a challenge. 

“Why is the cheese in the meat section?”

“Who places cereal next to the chips?”

“Is it even legal to have soda in the alcohol aisle???” 

This was not what was written on the blueprints. Breakfast aisle is meant to have breakfast foods, snacks aisle having the chips, and for fuck sake, is cheese not dairy? He was already concerned about how easily he cracked through security and accessed the blueprints. Now he’s wondering how in the world this store is functioning at all. There’s nothing special they’re selling nor are the prices cheaper. He genuinely can’t see why this place ranks so high in Gotham among the other grocery stores. 

The only reason for him to stay somewhat sane is your presence. Sticking right next to him where shoulders continually brush against each other whenever you two walk and sometimes placing a hand over his to placate him whenever he’s getting close. He appreciates it at the same time not whenever he catches you turning your head away from him. The tips of his ears burn but at least you’re trying stifle your laughter. 

“Come on, we’re almost done.” 

With a thud, his eyes widen when he recognizes the familiar logo on the case you dropped into the cart. Eyes going back between you and the case, he tears up as he finds out you’re the one that’s been restocking his energy drink with his favorite brand and flavor. He proceeds to nuzzle his cheek against your shoulder, thinking grocery shopping wasn’t so bad after all. 

Duke:

Many in the family other than Alfred don't understand nor appreciate the art of grocery shopping. But him? He knows the rules. Don’t get groceries on a weekend. Buy them in the morning rather than the afternoon. Fresh produce last, boxed and canned food first. Like please, he’s done it so many times that it’s a walk in a park. He even knows the go-to brands and their knockoffs if the store runs out of the former.

Shopping with you, there’s no hesitation when he turns the cart, heading towards the direction of the next destination for the next thing on the list. He weaves through the few people in the store while keeping your hand between his and the cart’s handle. At some point, joining you in inspecting and picking out which of the packaged food and produce to get. 

“Did you get the Spaghetti?” 

“Yeah, but you cool if we get this brand? It practically tastes the same as the other one and it’s buy-one-get-one free.” 

From how everything’s going with a breeze, he does all sorts of couple’s shopping shenanigans with you. Pushing you on the cart with your arms out like Superman, racing you to the end of the aisle. The only “problem” he would say the two of you are having at the moment are over snacks and soda. It started out with him preferring double-stuffed Oreos while you insisted Thin-Mints were better. Then the classic Pepsi vs Coca-Cola. 

“Tell me, are you going to eat my fruit snacks?” 

You’re holding a box of fruit snacks and shaking them in the air, waiting for him to give you the actual answer. So far, he’s been exercising his rights to remain silent by keeping his head turned away from you, shuffling side to side. And it’s helping him win, snorting when you huff and dramatically roll your eyes in annoyance before tossing them into the cart. Nice.

Damian: 

Everyone always assumes he doesn’t understand nor know what grocery shopping is. Oh, but how wrong they are. Grocery shopping with him could easily equate to being on a mission. He goes to your place and wakes you up at 7:17 AM on a Wednesday morning, demanding you get ready to go out while ignoring all your questions and protests about being woken up at an ungodly hour, on a day-off from school nonetheless. It’s as if he’s done grocery shopping his whole life, getting nit-picky over the quality of the fruit and vegetables while checking expiration dates on the back of the box of tea before placing them into the cart. 

It seems as if he’s being inconsiderate, expecting you to keep up with him while he’s trying to get done as efficiently as he can. In reality, he’s only trying to impress you with his vast knowledge and skills. Think of it as talking to someone who can identify fake versus real Prada bags. He’s dropping hints on how to tell if the eggs are fresh or not based on the shells, which bag of onions are the oldest. Comes off pretentious however, all with good intentions. Well, and also to impress you in his skills of knowing how to shop for groceries. But that's meh. 

Don’t think he isn’t noticing you sneaking things into the cart. He’s simply choosing to turn a blind eye to it, though his heart string twings when he recognizes half of them are his favorites. When you come back from who knows where, he grabs your hand and keeps it in his hand without a word, earning a grin from you while his cheeks turn dusty pink.

[dcxdpdabbles]

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Created by TumblrTop10

What a year! Thank you all for your support through the twelve months of my hyperfixation. I’m thrilled that Alley Boyfriends starting chat was number 1. 

I’ll tag anyone who likes to try this if they have some time! 

Happy New Year!