#He's got SO MUCH potential

[afurtivecake]

a fuck-up scenario where visander loves being in katherine's body more than he'd like to admit because he once felt envious of the lady for how much she was able to captivate sarcean and make him care about her. but now he owns her descendant's body. her face is his now. she's no longer alive to see sarcean again, but he is. and this time, he'll be the one to deal sarcean the killing strike and he'll be able make sarcean look at no one but him for the rest of his life.

[flannelepicurean]

You know what I love?

The whole idea of Raditz in the role of a nurturer.

I like the idea of him having a chance to go, "You know what? I don't actually wanna fight anymore. I don't actually LIKE fighting that much. I just HAD TO." Because it was such a deep part of the culture, he didn't really have an opportunity to see anything else as an option. And then there WASN'T any other option. If he wanted to survive.

And then he didn't.

But if he came BACK, and saw the changes... maybe he'd get a chance to make some CHOICES. I mean, for fuck's sake, he might come face to face with Dadgeta, and get his whole entire worldview rearranged. And if VEGETA can do THAT, but still go off and join the fight... Well... actually... Well, shit, everybody's so far beyond Raditz at that point, he doesn't really... HAVE to go fight...?

I like the idea of him being the one the kids can go to when they're SCARED. He's not as powerful as everyone else. He's been at the bottom of the pecking order. He knows what it's like to be AFRAID, and not really able to DO anything about it. He's got a different intimacy with doubt and self-doubt than Vegeta does, and I think he'd really quickly grow into way less of a hard-ass about it, in his own way, once he gets more of an understanding of what the kids have been through, and what their present is like. And what their future could be.

I like the idea of Trunks or Goten running to Uncle Raditz when they're totally overwhelmed by literally ANYTHING that could come up, I don't care, pick a plot point or conflict. And either blabbing it all out in a rush, or just stewing on it in silence. And him just receiving it all, with the same calm attentiveness he'd give an adult, and then giving them the most Peak Uncle Response imaginable. Words of wisdom; invitation to a minor crime; invitation to a food opportunity; advice on committing a minor crime; caring insistence that they make something right or correct a course of action, etc. Uncle Raditz.

I also adore the idea of him being a joyful Daditz to an absolute HERD of kids. His, a collective pile of everyone else's, a combination, doesn't matter. Just having the opportunity to BUILD SOMETHING with a new generation, and do things differently, and give them the good parts without all the worst parts. I want the kids who are old enough for missing baby teeth to complain about him letting the toddlers win when they arm wrestle him, and him to patiently explain that the toddlers are learning FORM; the older kids are training STRENGTH and TECHNIQUE, because they're ADVANCED. Now go see if they can put the glittery stickers on Goku when he's not looking.

I... I'm just in love with the whole idea.

[amynchan]

Wouldn't it be so much easier if Jiang Cheng were just... two separate characters?

The one who begged for Madam Yu not to hurt Wei Wuxian in a way that would have definitely lost face for the sect and the one who whipped him himself?

The one who was offended that Wei Wuxian would consider marrying a servant (solidifying his classism as well as recognizing that he classified Wei Wuxian, at the very least, as 'not servant') and the one who sneered down Wei Wuxian's connection with Lan Wangji?

The one who told his sister that Wei Wuxian should be the one to give Jin Ling his courtesy name and the one who told Jin Ling consistently that Wei Wuxian was the reason both of his parents were gone?

The one who held onto Chenqing for so long and kept it in good condition (as per Wei Wuxian's own observations) and the one who helped lead the siege on the Burial Mounds?

The one who gave up his life and core for Wei Wuxian and the one who had an entire breakdown over Wei Wuxian's core reveal (including the gist of "why do you have to keep one upping me?")?

The one who keeps his silence at the end of the novel and lets Wei Wuxian go and the one who says "after all my family's done for you?!"

Wouldn't it be nice and easy if they were two different characters? A "Good Jiang Cheng" and a "Bad Jiang Cheng"?

But, you know... that would ruin both, I think. I am, in fact, someone who loves this character, but I don't think I can if it were just the good bits. The bad bits make him so deliciously tragic.

it would be easy if they were two different characters, but I personally don't think it'd be nice. I like my sour grape just as he is.

[velnica]

📓!

Put "📓" or some other version of a book emoji into my inbox and I'll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven't written but daydream about.

Since you are also a Nourval appreciator, one of my top 'begged to be written' is what I call the Nourval Redemption project. Set in the future when Sanson is a Commander and the Adders are finally ready to have a talk with Ala Mhigo about Gylbarde's journal. Nourval goes with them, still as prisoner, but at the end of the negotiation and the subsequent revelation to the public, he is released as gesture of goodwill from the Ala Mhigan.

This triggers a lot of soul searching—he's been jailed for nearly a decade by now; his family is mostly gone, his house has fallen into disrepair, his reputation basically in tatters so he has to rebuild it all back up somehow. Worse, he is placed under Sanson's surveillance and thus is indebted to the one person he's personally wronged.

But of course, Sanson won't be Sanson if he isn't trying to help, especially because an organised group of like minded racist individuals are not likely to just drop their proclivities. So Nourval has to choose, succumb to his still festering anger and go back to his old life or work with Sanson and Guydelot (begrudgingly) for his future.

[having-conniptions]

My thoughts on THC ep 8

The new pairs?? Amazing. I'm so glad they switched it up

Fuaiz and Ta's VegasPete scene could have been so gut-wrenching but the cowboy costumes and background killed the whole vibe. They really made it hard for them. I couldn't take them seriously at all and started to laugh during a scene that I expected to make me cry.

When Mio and Copper held hands before their scene and Tong said that's what Mile and Apo always do <3<3<3

Mio and Copper were so smart to use the coat instead of a knife - and then even quickly explained why there was only one coat!! They definitely could have been a little more "aware" of their (imagined) surroundings, I agree with the judges there

Mio and Copper's reactions during JJ & Jet's scene (they were fangirling so hard and I GET IT)

JJ AND JET BLEW MY TITS CLEAN OFF HOLY SHIT they added dialogue in order to adapt to the scene change and even the new stuff was sooo in character!! And JJ actually went for the kiss... their performance really pulled me in and the tension was so palpable... I might need a second to recover from JJ as Kinn...

The fact that Mile had to clear his throat and collect his thoughts before yelling "cut" says it all

HOWWWWWWWW did we get from "there was supposed to be a kiss there" "yeah, but he seems hesitant to do it" to THIS- holy SHIT New and Bump what the FUCK

Also, the "actors are over 18 years old and got permission from their parents" LMAOOOO imagine *calls mom* "Hey mom is it okay if I kiss a boy and then he pushes me on a bed and goes to town on my neck?"

Mile yelling "cut" before it gets too spicy lmao too late the fanfic is already being written

"We rehearsed 100%. I thought we only performed 60% of it today." WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN NEW IF THAT WAS 60% THEN WHAT IN THE WORLD WERE THE OTHER 40?????

Also New trying to collect himself after the cut - not just as Bump gets off of him but even after he gets up. Same, babe, same.

TONG ASKING THE IMPORTANT QUESTIONS because let's not forget these are inexperienced actors who didn't have an intimacy coordinator helping them so DID YOU TALK ABOUT HOW FAR YOU WOULD GO is the first question anyone should have asked (ideally before even starting with rehearsals but okay)

LMAO Tong and Apo being like "you deadass didn't have to make out for real tho - when we film we use camera angles and imagination" yeah um you literally could have told them sooner

I feel kinda bad for New. He always gives 110% and ends up trying too hard and it seems like his only response to problems/failure is to try harder and harder. He gets so lost in the characters he has trouble coming back out of them and ends up overacting and losing sight of essential points. He's doing it all and he's doing too much.

Everyone made so much progress. Even the ones that didn't do that well learned something from it. They should all be proud <3

[ducktracy]

there are a lot of evil people in the world and a lot of darkness in the world and so it’s very important for me to stress that now more than ever is the time to spread kindness and compassion. combat the evil by not only not partaking in it, but actively refuting it. destroy the notion that being compassionate or generous or kind to someone is uncool or embarrassing or even scary. be the change you want to see. start a chain reaction. positivity only breeds more positivity. do an act of kindness for someone so that that person who is too afraid to do it themselves can see you, realize that they’re not alone, and perhaps sheepishly follow your example. and then the next person who is too afraid but sees that person can do the same. when bad news comes out about bad people or horrible atrocities in the world it’s such an easy impulse to despair, and obviously it’s important to feel what you need to feel. grieve. be angry. be sorrowful. be empathetic. but dust off your pants and get up and be a part of a chain reaction that, no matter how small the scale, and spread compassion and love and care. all the reasons why you might not—“it’s hard! it’s scary! people will make fun of me! it’s useless because there’s too much evil!” are all grade A arguments as to why you should. you have no idea how many people you could inspire to do the same. even if it doesn’t get you anyway far, you can at least say you have the nobility of trying. please choose love and please choose life. you are worth loving and you are worth inspiring others to love

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Remember: The burning sensation is part of the process.

[black-and-yellow]

[zuppizup]

My angsty brain: So… Callum’s Dad died of some kind lung condition, eh? Sure would be a shame if that was hereditary

[ofbatsandballads]

pretty little birds

jason todd x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: suggestive content, reader works at the Iceberg Lounge as a server/dancer/informant for Oz, slight objectification from Oz, reader described as having long hair but no other physical descriptions, slight implication of potential SA (nothing happens, just concern over it)

a/n: been thinking of Jason with a girl who works at the Iceberg Lounge ever since I watched The Batman and saw Selina’s gorgeous self working there. something about her and Bruce’s dynamic was very alluring and I realized how much better it would work with Jason so this was born. might make this a series, might not; who knows? not me! also if you want a nice visual aid for the club, I fully based it off the Gotham Knights version of the lounge.

divider credit: strangergraphics

Jason wasn’t a fan of the Iceberg Lounge. He’d been there plenty of times for missions, for reconnaissance, to beat the shit out of Oswald—it didn’t mean he liked it there. The club was ostentatious, loud and vulgar like everything that went on within it. He always scoffed when he saw it during patrol. An actual iceberg exterior; how corny could Cobblepot get?

He did have to admit that it was nicer inside. The marble floors, balconies, and columns lended an elegance to the place that it didn’t deserve. The neon blues and pinks of the lighting served to disorient, to intoxicate alongside the drinks that were served across the bar and the drugs that were passed behind it. The massive penguin ice sculpture in the center was tacky though. Jason could think of a million better design choices than that.

All this to say that he wasn’t thrilled to be sent to the club per Bruce’s orders of seeing if Oz was still as legit as he claimed. He wasn’t. They all knew it but B needed proof. Jason’s sure by proof Bruce meant that he wanted him to go undercover, but one of the advantages of being Red Hood is that he can go where the other Bats can’t. That distinction is how he finds himself stalking the club from his vantage point in the shadows.

It’s busy tonight. The main floor is crowded with people. Bodies push and pull to the rhythm of the music that blares from the speakers. As tightly crammed as the floor is, the servers still manage to weave through with a practiced grace. They’re all in various states of undress; short skirts, crop tops, some in straight up underwear. Jason recognizes the servers for what Cobblepot intends them to be: a distraction. They’re all young and beautiful—pretty girls and boys that are meant to draw your eye so you don’t see the money and the drugs that pass between their hands.

Jason zeroes in on the two working the floor for any indication of something illegal. Oswald’s been smarter since his last stint in Blackgate. He lets the filth of the city do their deals in his club while he himself is never caught up in it. The argument of “well I didn’t do it” usually wouldn’t hold up legally, but this is Gotham. His eyes track the man first. He’s weaving in and out, laughing with what must be the regulars. He’s charming them, plying them with more and more alcohol to stay longer, to spend more money. He’s not doing anything more than that, though, to Jason’s utmost disappointment. He turns his attention to the girl instead.

The difference between the two of you is so obvious it’s almost amusing. While the guy weaved fluidly through the throng of people like something unseen, the crowd itself seems to part for you. Recognition, some degree of respect, power—that’s what you’ve got over the drunken group of people. He immediately knows that his best bet will be with you. Everything about you echoes the pull you must have in the club. The way you walk, how you smile at the regulars, the drifting of your hands across shoulders and backs and jawlines. It’s even clear in the way you’re dressed. You look like something out of a cabaret show. Pink silk lingerie lined with black lace flowers, black fringe beads that form the idea of a skirt rather than an actual one, and those same beads hanging in alluring arcs across your arms, neck, and chest. You’re dressed up like Penguin’s favorite dream.

You’re also not doing anything illegal. Sure, he’s watched you take money from people, but all you bring back are drinks. He watches for over half an hour, eyes always trailing back to you. Nothing. It’s remarkable how much absolutely nothing he’s seen. His patience is wearing thin. It’s one in the morning and there are better things he could be doing, people he could be helping. But he can’t leave without something for Bruce. He tries to ignore the bile that rises in his throat when he thinks of why he still cares about disappointing him. His eyebrow twitches and he decides suddenly and definitively: fuck it.

So he kicks in Penguin’s office doors.

“Ah, Red Hood. If it ain’t Gotham’s least favorite vigilante,” Oswald mutters past the cigar in his mouth. “Shut the doors behind you, would ya?”

Jason kicks them shut. No one needs to see the bloody mess that Oswald’s going to be in about fifteen minutes.

“Ah ah ah. Before you get any ideas, I would advise you to consider how bad it would be for you to be caught assaulting a reformed citizen of this great city,” Oswald gloats, stubby finger pointing at the camera in the corner.

Fuck. Now Jason has to talk. He hates talking to Cobblepot. It gets you approximately nowhere fast.

“Reformed? We both know you’re full of shit, Oz,” Red Hood taunts.

“I’m on the straight and narrow. Scout’s honor,” Penguin laughs, coughing through the harsh inhale he took of his cigar.

Nowhere. Fast.

“You’re bringing in too much money for that to be true. Your parties aren’t that good, Cobblepot.”

“Eh, you haven’t seen my toys. Most of ‘em come for the pretty little things I keep around.”

“So you’re pimping them out? You see that I can work with,” Hood retorts.

It would make sense, Oz getting his servers into sex work. It’s not the worst thing he could do if they were all willing. And if they weren’t? Well, that gives Jason a nice excuse to finally put a bullet through The Penguin.

“You don’t listen too well, do you? I’m a changed man. People can look at my dolls, but they can’t touch. Everyone loves eye candy,” Oswald says.

The doors open just as Jason considers pulling a gun on Oswald, cameras recording him or not.

“And there’s my favorite. What do ya need, doll?”

Jason watches you saunter in. You move with an almost feline gracefulness. His eyes clock the sway of your hips and the way you toss your hair over your shoulder. Then he watches the way Cobblepot’s pupils dilate as his eyes lock on you. You plant your hands on the desk, bend over as you smile saccharine at the old man sitting behind it. Oh, you’re good. Very good.

“Nothing much. Just that DA wanting his usual,” you say.

Oswald’s eyes rake lecherously over your body. He looks at you like he wants to put you in one of the glass cases that decorate his office. It makes Jason’s stomach turn. Then he pulls a key out from a locked drawer and drops it into your open palm. Now that piques his interest.

“Thanks, Oz,” you say sweetly.

As you straighten up and spin around to leave, Penguin grabs your wrist and yanks you back. He leaves one kiss on the inside of your wrist and that pretty facade cracks. It’s only for a second, so quick that Oswald doesn’t see it. Jason does. Disgust. Pure disgust flashes across your face before it’s replaced by an alluring smile. Your eyes spark with something Jason can’t quite read.

“Mind if I get some too, Ozzie? You know how much I like it,” you ask as you play with the beads that dangle on your chest.

“Sure, doll. Take whatever you want,” Oswald acquiesces.

Your face lights up and you look almost victorious. Then you spin around and head towards the doors. To this point you haven’t acknowledged him, the known vigilante, at all. But just before you leave, you pause right next to him. Jason tries not to flinch as your hand runs up his arm.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed your night here. Next time, feel free to ask for anything you want. Wouldn’t want Oz’s guests to get bored,” you purr.

Your eyes lock with the white lenses of his domino mask and Jason feels the air leave his lungs. You’d seen him. You knew he was there the whole fucking time. And you hadn’t told anyone. If you had, Cobblepot would’ve sent security in guns blazing.

“Have a good night, honey,” you tell him as you waltz out the door.

“See, Hood? Eye candy,” Oz hacks.

Jason follows you. What else was he supposed to do? Oswald gave him nothing. But you? You gave him what felt suspiciously like a lead. Ask for anything you want, you’d said. What else could you think he wanted but proof of Oswald’s lingering corruption? So he follows you. He’s careful this time. Quiet, precise steps that give no indication he’s near. It’s times like these he’s grateful for all the stealth training Bruce made him do as a kid.

He trails behind as you head downstairs. You weave through the maze of corridors until you come to a mahogany door, elaborately carved with floral emblems. It’s got an old brass lock on it that you slot the key into. Jason waits one beat, two, three—then goes through the door where you disappeared.

He finds you inside, crouching in front of an open safe. A rainbow of jewels glitter within. Diamonds, rubies, emeralds—there had to be enough jewelry in there to cover the cost of a couple of Bruce’s tricked out sports cars. You pull a more modest sapphire necklace from the safe and place it into one of the grab bags that guests can take home at the end of the night. So that’s what the DA wanted. You grab a far more ostentatious diamond bracelet and slip it into your bra.

“Think it’s a good idea to steal from your boss?”

You jump. Jason doesn’t want to admit how satisfied he is by that. He was a little worried that he’d lost his touch. You twirl around, eyes locked on the vigilante leaning against the closed door.

“Hmm…when I’ve got him wrapped around my finger? Why not?” you smirk.

You’re brave. He’ll give you that.

“Must really be putting on a show for him if you’re not worried,” he presses.

Your smile drops and your eye twitches in annoyance. He’s hit a nerve. Good.

“A show. That’s all it is. If he’s stupid enough to think it’ll be more than that, that’s his problem,” you bite, tone dripping venom instead of honey.

“Not scared he’ll realize the trick? Or what he’ll do when he does?” Red Hood asks as he fiddles with a knife he keeps in his belt.

He asks with sincerity. It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. You could end up dead. Or worse. Jason’s no stranger to people taking what they want by force, and Oz clearly wants you.

“Oswald’s a coward,” you reply harshly. “He only fucks with people weaker than him. So no, I’m not scared of toying with him. He won’t do a goddamn thing to me.”

Jason cocks his head, sizing you up. A pretty girl in lingerie working in a club thinks she’s stronger than a crime lord. Well, you’re probably not wrong.

“You’re not weak?” he asks mockingly.

But it’s still fun to test your resolve. To your credit and Jason’s surprise, you just grin. A breathy laugh falls from your red lips and Jason can’t help the way his eyes flicker down to look at the curve of them.

“I got this without so much as a fight, didn’t I?” you gloat, grabbing the diamond bracelet and swinging it around your middle finger.

“He let you.”

“Precisely. What exactly are you missing here? He let me. Because he’s a fool. And to let me take this bracelet specifically? Well, he’s just about the village idiot,” you laugh.

Jason sees the bait. His stubbornness almost makes him want to not ask just to spite you. But it’s just too intriguing.

“What’s so special about that bracelet?”

You smile wryly. Jason’s reflexes are the only reason he catches the bracelet as you toss it to him from across the room.

“Oh, I think you’re smart enough to figure that one out yourself, baby,” you purr. “Now get the fuck out.”

Jason does as he’s told. He returns to the cave with no intel beyond a locked room with a safe full of jewels and a diamond bracelet. Imagine his shock when Bruce analyzes the serial markings of the bracelet and finds that it was part of a collection that got robbed from a boutique in the Diamond District. It had been months and they hadn’t found a single piece of jewelry from the robbery. There were no leads on who did it or how. And now one of the most expensive pieces is sitting on the Batcomputer. Jason can guess where the rest are.

“Who gave you this?” Bruce asks skeptically.

Always doubt with the old man.

“A friend. Maybe,” Jason ponders.

Bruce rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Jason grins at how exhausted all his kids make him. It’s a point of pride among them: who can stress out B the most?

“You should figure that out,” Bruce scolds.

“Yeah, I think I will.”

Jason’s suddenly got a very vested interest in the Iceberg Lounge, and he’s going to satiate that curiosity if it kills him again.

[angelcasendgame]

emmanuel's guilty pleasure is the supernatural series by carver edlund

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.

[syn0vial]

funniest part about the bounty hunter wars by K.W jeter is how palpatine thinks he's screwing boba fett over by hiring him to take down the bounty hunters' guild, completely ignorant to the fact that boba is a sicko who thinks making himself public enemy #1 of every bounty hunter in the galaxy sounds like the most fun he's had in ages.

it's literally like,

palpatine: that fool boba fett doesn't know that he is but a pawn in my nefarious plot to sow desperation and discord among the bounty hunters of the galaxy. he will be completely unprepared for the torrent of violence and retribution he is about to unleash upon himself. how wonderful it is to make a creature complicit in the workings of its own destruction! >:) boba, like 2 pages later: i can't wait to sow desperation and discord among the bounty hunters of the galaxy 😊 it's going to be sooo fun when my actions unleash a torrent of violence and retribution against me 😃 can't wait!

[on-the-clear-blue]

So I was thinking and like, the Batfam all come from vastly different backgrounds, and like everything in life, food is easily the best way to truly see someone.

Bruce likely grew up eating the same thing every day in the way of "Fridays are Lamb chops, Sunday is Pot roast" because that's how it was just done those days.

His father was a well to-do man, a gigh class doctor and his mother was a socialite, they held their postion highly and knew what was expected of them, even by their staff.

Martha always worked withe chef for meal plans, changing things for holidays or if they would have guests but always had a base she built off of.

It was that base that Bruce clung to after they died, sure the chef left, the other maids and servants going wirh him, leaving just Alfred (he was just a butler, he ran the house, told people what to do not cook)

But Alfred, a man who been through war and acting school did what he did best, He adapted, becoming more than just his title of Butler.

Now think of all that being flipped on its head by little Dickie, freshly orphaned from his loving family. His loving Romani family that traveled across world that likely ate different cuisines every time they stopped in a country. (This is in fact a call back to my baby dick post)

Just...

Dickie, staring wide eyed at just the amount of meat on his plate: It...it's all for me?

Bruce, staring back with confusion: Do you need more? Alfred get Dicke more food, clearly this isn't enough for him.

I love the idea that Dickie pulls a face when he sees mashed potatoes for the third day in a row, he is crying and sad, he missed rice! Fresh veggies! Where was the flavor?? Why was everything so rich?

And Bruce adapts, he is the God damn Batman, of course he adapts, and the perfect schedule of foods he always knew would be on each day of the week is changed, oh of course he doesn't like it but it's for his son child so of course he puts up with it.

(Yes he can't handle the spice, he might of traveled the world for 5 years but he lived off of energy bars and MREs so he didn't have to think about food while traning)

Then his son is gone, (its all his fault why does this always happen why can't he just say what he means to say) and the schedule comes back. Was pot roast always this bland? When did the mashed peas start to seem unpleasant?

Then...Jason is in his life, it's a whirlwind of things, trying to get him comfortable in a place that seemed like a fairy tale.

Jason, who lived on the streets for years, Jason who even before he was homeless was in a poor household, who made ketchup sandwiches cus he was able to snatch a few from the gas station when the clerk wasn't looking, who thought fresh veggies were a special treat meant to be savored, who always felt loved when his mom saved up a bit and they got smoked turkey legs and boiled them up in a soup.

That Jason looks at the offered food and feels uncomfortable, all that was far to much for him.

Jason, frowning at his bowl of soup: Um...what's the big bits of green?

Bruce, looking up from his case file: Hn, it's herbs Jaylad, I think basil and parsley.

Jason, nodding but clearly doesn't know: Oh yeah...totally see that now...

Unlike Dick, Jason doesn't ask for things, doesn't want to be a burden to the guy who took him in, so he eats and doesn't throw a fit.

(The first night Jason actually ate with Bruce the kid nearly ate till he threw up, not wanting to waste a single bit.)

It was months later when Jason finally asked for something another and...

Jason, fidgeting: So B...Um...I wanted to ask but uh...C-can I just get like...actual crackers and stuff? Not those fancy rich people ones but like...Ritz? Cheese wiz? I...I just...I don't like blue cheese.

Bruce, blinking in rich person: Ritz...as in the hotel? I can ask Alfred about a cheese wizard but...Hn..

Later

Bruce, fighting Condiment King: Do you know a Cheese Wizard?

Then Jason, his boy, his and Gotham light dies, Bruce finds his body broken and beaten and- he was breathing Bruce got him in time- he didn't. The boy wasn't responding. His boy. His Jason died in his arms. Choking out sobs as he couldn't get enough air in, coughing and shuddering as he tried to get the smoke out

(Jason's death certificate says he dies of smoke inhalation, the explosion didn't kill him, it was the fumes afterward)

Then Bruce shuts down, he becomes the Batman fully, Bruce Wayne died with his son that day and all that was left was the Bat.

Then a pesky boy put on Bruce's sons outfit, charged in and saved him. Pulling the man back from the brink kicking and screaming and crying.

Tim wasn't a son to Bruce (couldn't be, wouldn't allow him to be) he came every evening for training and patrol and then he was gone and that was all Bruce had to think about the boy.

Then he saw Jason in Tim, saw Dickie, saw himself and before Bruce knew he was caring for the kid.

Asking to say for a post patrol snack was first denied, about a dozen times before Tim broke, humming and quickly downing that German dish that Dick always wanted when he was feeling sick.

Tim slowly started to settle, growing a bit more lax in his own right, like a feral cat slowly becoming more comfortable with someone.

(No he didn't take advice from Selina...there isn't any proof)

Bruce, sitting at the bat computer, watching the reflection of Tim training in the background:

Tim, winded and tired after a few minutes and having to take a break, pulls out a protein bar:

Bruce, Vietnam war like flash back to his own training days where he only lived off ration bars: pained Hn

And once more Bruce adapts, learns. Tim won't stay for dinner, won't stay the night after a hard patrol, but Bruce can tempt him, with little things, a bit of jerky instead of what Bruce knows for sure are bulk baught meal replacement bars during a stake out, a thing of left overs (they arnt actually, Alfred made them just for Tim) of "last nights dinner"

Bruce is 75% sure Tim knows but neither say anything.

Then tragedy rears its ugly head and Tim's parents are dead, first his mother, his father in a coma and...Tim choses to run away, hiding behind an uncle Bruce is very much aware didn't exist three days ago, and he can't do anything more than what he has already.

Then his boy (God not again why does he always get attached) losses his father, murdered by a God damn Flash rogue.

(The angry rant Barry gets about keeping track of criminals and their whereabouts become legendary in the Leauge)

Finally Bruce's boy is at the Manor and...Bruce sees him, almost for the first time behind the mask of "Tim Drake, the nice young man" he's reclusive, obsessive and picks at his food more than he eats. Surviving on snack foods and energy drinks.

It's a chore to get the boy to eat anything that wasn't out of a package or a box (and Bruce gets it he really did, knowing what it will taste like and knowing it will always taste the same was very comforting) but he managed.

Then like a hurricane Damian is brought into his life, his son, (he has another, one he never knew about and oh God he already loves him, already would die to have the boy trust) and then-

He's gone.

He's flung through time and lost and lives not his own are played out and things he never thought would be comforting are.

Then...then he is found and God it's been months, it's been ages and...

Dick is more Damians father than he could ever be, was there for him in was Bruce should have been...

Dick leaves again, but not as far as Jump city, comes to stay at Bludhaven. (So close but so far away, why didn't he want to stay?)

Jason comes back just as he came into this world, screaming and covered in blood (His boy, his Jaylad ALIVE BREATHING)

Tim has matured, changed, and he walks differently now, far more like Ra's stride (Why does Tim get dead look in his eyes now? What has his son seen? What has he done...)

And Damian. He only was with him briefly, not nearly long enough to see his LoA mask drop, to see the boy beneath the weapon.

That mask goes back on when Bruce returns, he sees the true Damian for a moment before it is shut off fully, sees his son (God did he say how much he loves the boy already?) Softly petting a cat names Alfred before noticing Bruce.

And like all times before, Bruce adapts, changes his approach yet again.

Damian responds to violence, he expects to be yelled at and will only respect a choice if it was fought for, Bruce knows this and...he messes up some times, takes the easy way out and does what the boy know and Bruce feels the guilt.

But he tries to connect, past the way of pain that Damian knows.

Damian, fuming in his room after an argument with Bruce, angrily looking at the wall: 😠

Bruce, knocking on the door, then opening it a second later, not saying anything as he sets down a bowl of mango on Damians bedside table, then leaves.

Damian, grumbling as he eats the fruit of forgiveness: Stupid Father...

(He 100% asked Talia what she normally does and it seemed to work)

Their relationship is rocky, but they find moments where they touch, where Father and Son find a soft moment, Damian teaching Bruce how to make his grandfather's Chai blend, Bruce in turn teaching his son how to make latkes, an exchange of their pasts together.

Then Cassandra comes and Bruce is thrown for a loop once more, she is unlike any of his other children, she is open, painfully so, she might seemed closed off, silent and deadly...but Bruce can see her, truly see her as she wants to be seen and she is screaming, hurt and scared and all alone.

He takes her home, David Cain can try and take his daughter away but there will be hell to pay.

And then she is home, she is settled in a life where she can learn more than just violence.

She stares at the plate of food that is put in front of her the first dinner that Bruce's family has together (HE HAS A FAMILY! WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?)

And she cries.

It is just as she wanted but she didnt know what to do, David Cain was a horrid man, in his chase for the perfect weapon he long left the idea of pleasure and care by the way side.

So Cass was overwhelmed by actual food, not nutrient dense bars that tasted bitter and was ash on her tongue.

Cass, pitifully looking down at an orange: HOW DO I EAT YOU?

Bruce looking on from his seat: Sweetheart? Don't eat the peel, Cass-Cass. No. Cassandra please. N-No not the lime! Put that down! You're just going to...that.

Cass, looking pained from eating a whole lime at once: 😞

Bruce, looking equally pained: Sweetheart you can spit it out...

And Bruce thinks his family is big enough, with his boys and his wonderful daughter (no Steph and Barbara didn't count, as they both kept on insisting, they both still had parents)

And then comes along Duke and...God he is already signing the foster papers before he could think too hard.

Duke is unlike the rest of his children as in he is batshit insane but hides it far better than he has any right too.

Bruce tries to not pull his hair out as the kid talks about how he made a kinda cult around Robin and lead them to help the Bats...

It takes time for Duke to get used to the Manor, but he does slowly, finding his place in the family much easier than they all assumed.

Unlike the rest of his children, for some reason it is easy for Bruce to speak with Duke, it's as if they both think similarly.

If Bruce wanted any of his children to take up the cowl when he dies (Which he very much would not like thank you very much) Bruce is hesitant to fully say Cass would be the next Bat, while Cassandra has the fists to do it, Duke had the dedication and drive to, the mental state to truly be the Dark Knight.

Bruce, in the cave, hour 36 with out sleep, 5 coffees deep into a conspiracy: hn.

Duke, right there with him, missed two days of school and hasn't stopped drinking energy drinks: Hm?

Bruce, wordlessly passing the files over, before pulling a face at Dukes energy drinks: Hn..

Duke, taking files but offended on his poor babies behalf, popping one open and dumping it into Bruce's (empty) coffee cup: Have some you marshmallow looking ass...fuck out my face B.

Bruce, scowling, taking a sip before freezing for a full minute, (its the fruit juice kinda monster) his body hasn't has nutrients in a while and are all over this: Hmm...Nice.

(Duke shares more, cus while his dad is not able to be there for him, Bruce is more of that weird uncle that the rest of the family don't talk about.)

It's not till someone at a gala complains, saying "I understand he has an obsession with those...children, but why does everything have to be about them, I miss the old menu for these things." That Bruce realizes that the predetermined, predictable life he once clung to was gone, dead and long buried...and Bruce couldn't care about it less.

(That Gala person gets personally banned and their business is outed for all the shitty things they have done.)

---

This....this was far longer than what I meant this to be...I just wanted to talk about what they would like and what kinda food the batfams culture has but um...this got way outta hand...so ya.

[giddlygoat]

if you’re able to stylize sportaflop,i wonder how you’d stylize my boy stingy ✨✨

also what do you think of stingy?

stingy is REALLY fun to draw. but, i’m not surprised that i enjoy it, because i’ve always loved drawing dapper dressed characters lol. in fact, he was one of the most fascinating characters to me when i was a kid just for that reason. i also remember being put off by his inability to share, but i don’t think that stopped little me from having the tiniest crush on him. nowadays i would simply like to have a talk with his parents because he needs some serious attitude adjustments 😭

[sadlynotthevoid]

Crack idea here: LCF modern AU with magic where og!Cale accidentally gains a swordmaster aura after way too many hours of playing beat saber.

Cale: *intensely playing the same game for 74th time this (new) year*

Cale's body: *starts exuding glowing mist*

Cale:

Hans, who just opened the door: Excuse me, young mas— Hhh...

Hans: Madam Violan!!!