#Robin fanfiction

[porcelian]

HOW HE LOVES | d. wayne | 0.4k

SYNOPSIS: how does damian wayne show his love for you?

ANON: “hi author!! wanted to just make an ask to see if you would write something with damian? if it's okay with you, may it be sfw and romantic? hc's or not, whatever you prefer!!”

A/N: i did some research about his culture and found some interesting facts about how love and endreament is shown in the arabic languages. if i made any mistakes while turning the gendered phrases gn, please let me know.

✹ ꕀ MLISTS . NAV.

REDAMANCY: The endless labyrinth of your minds has been unlocked and explored by both of you. Words are unnecessary for Damian to understand what you want and need. Your presence has left an indelible mark on his heart. It’s the way the two of you gradually reshape your speech, crafting a language of your own—how a glance across a crowded room signals that you want to leave, and he’s at your side in an instant. Your hand finds his. Together, you’re out the door. He knows your routine by heart. He knows you’ll come home tired, so he’s already queued up your favorite show on the DVR, snacks spread out on the table.

ACTIONS FOR YOU: In the beginning stages of your relationship, Damian doesn’t express his love through words or elaborate phrases woven with sophistication. His love shows in his actions—the subtle ways he tries to brighten your everyday life. It’s the way he washes your hair when you’re too exhausted, how he wakes up early to prepare you something to eat, how he ties your shoelaces when they come undone, how he straightens your outfit with care.

“I’ll do it. Only because you asked me to.”

ONLY YOU: Damian only sees you. The crowd fades to a dull blur, while you stand out like the sun. You’re his choice, the one he wants to share every moment with. Waking up, getting ready, cooking, strolling to the grocery store, wandering through the park at dusk—all of it is with you. He can’t imagine it any other way.

“You—you are the exception, ya hayati.”

THE DETAILS: Nothing escapes his notice. It’s the way he brews two cups of coffee for you both, the way he listens to every word you say as though it’s etched in his mind, even if it’s as simple as how your day went. After particularly hard days, he stays close. He peels a piece of fruit, splitting it in half to share, because everything tastes better when it’s with you. Damian cares for the small things.

“You’re definitely the only person I’d do this for.”

WORDS LIKE AMBROSIA: As your relationship deepens, Damian’s promises become like whispered prayers on an altar—a vow etched into his soul. With his words, he assures you that he’ll be by your side, if you’ll have him. Softly, he tells you, “Bahlam feekum”—I dream of you—each night, a phrase that carries weight in its quiet way. To dream of someone is no small thing; it’s a gesture of devotion.

© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[pastel-peach-writes]

Let's Go, Lesbians, Let's Go! | Random Characters

Happy Lesbian Visibility Week! As a celebration, here are some random headcanons of some of my favorite lesbians. Enjoy!

╰┈➤ CHARACTERS: Vi, Caitlyn Kiramman, Ellie Williams, Robin Buckley.

╰┈➤ PLOT: Headcanons on how these ladies would act/treat you during the crush stage, when you're together, and some of their habits (good and bad).

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Not Proofread, Use of You

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

–– VI __

CRUSH STAGE: During the crush stage, Vi will not admit to herself that she has a crush on you. She would simply categorize her crush as her body saying she liked to tease you. She liked seeing your face when she would flirt with you. You'd show a flustered smile and sometimes playfully punch her in the arm and/or glare. She never thought you liked her back. She's observant with people, sure, but there's no need to worry about you liking her back if she "didn't" have a crush on you in the first place.

RELATIONSHIP: If you thought Vi was more mellow now that y'all are together, you thought wrong. Now that she knows her own feelings and is aware of yours, she's more touchy with her flirts. She'll drag her fingers across your cheeks when she compliments you, put her hand on the small of your back when guiding you somewhere, and when you were chilling at home, she'll pull your legs over her lap.

She'll never admit it, but that was her favorite sitting position. She absolutely loves loves your thighs and with your legs across her lap, she can caress and squeeze them all she wants. She also discovered if she lightly drags her nails across your skin, you squirm and get goosebumps. That was her favorite reaction of all.

HABITS: Vi has the habit of grabbing you by the waist when she passes by. She'll squeeze your waist too just to hear you laugh. More emotionally, Vi has the habit of keeping things to herself. If it doesn't concern you and it's something she thinks can easily be fixed, she won't tell you about it. Not because she doesn't trust you, but because she isn't used to opening up.

You caught onto this habit when she came home all bloodied up and bruised more than normal. She had a limp and looked dazed. Whomever she fought got some punches in and you could only imagine how bad the other person looked.

The morning after she's been bandaged, you asked her what happened. Apparently, she was trying to return an item you've been wanting to return, but the store owners had multiple sticks up their asses. Her words, not yours. Because things took a turn for the worse, Vi went to the distributors and then had to sneak past security. She wasn't as stealthy as she wanted herself to be. It took Vi a week to get the owners to refund her and the distributors to give her the item free of charge.

You scolded Vi. She didn't have to go through a week of torture just because some assholes wanted to be assholes. Though you hated how she handled things, you couldn't be mad at her. She had a huge heart and would do anything to keep you happy. That's all you wanted in a girlfriend.

–– CAITLYN ––

CRUSH STAGE: Caitlyn knew she had a crush on you almost instantly. The way her heart skipped a few beats when you passed by, how she only went to places knowing you'll be there, and when she went to bed, you were the last thing she thought of. Though she was sure of her feelings, she was unsure of yours.

You seemed to be friendly with everyone. You gave smiles, asked how their day was going, and brought those you were close with gifts. You never gave her gifts. Was she not important to you? Maybe you only saw her as an acquaintance; nothing else and nothing more. That was alright with Caitlyn. She had no problem admiring you from afar.

Things changed, however, when Caitlyn went to her work desk one day and saw an abundance of letters and gifts. She was flattered but had no clue where they came from. When she went home and saw you at her doorstep with a basket of goodies, she knew those gifts were from you. There at her doorstep, she confessed and asked you out.

RELATIONSHIP: Being in a relationship with Caitlyn is a lot easier than you thought. Your friends teased you about how her being work-focused would put a dent in your relationship, but it was the opposite. Sure, there were nights when Caitlyn came home late without warnings or forgot to listen to you while she worked on papers, but she would always apologize and make it up to you.

Caitlyn is a soft lover. She loves gentle touches and quality time. Whenever you two snuggle together, her long fingers dance across your back or she grabs onto your hand. She'll whisper stories about her day or praise you if you're sleepy. She absolutely loves to tell you all the things she loves about you. Along with touch and quality time, words of affirmation are one of her love languages.

HABITS: Caitlyn has a habit of holding your hands and gifting you things she's seen while she's out. Sometimes the gifts are clothes that reminded her of you, cute items you can place around your home, or something you've wanted for a while.

As mentioned earlier, Caitlyn works a lot and takes her job seriously. She has a bad habit of getting stressed out and instead of finding a healthy outlet to blow off steam, she overworks herself. You caught her once working at her desk at three am with bloodshot eyes, cold black coffee, and frizzy hair. You had to peel her away from her desk and force her to go to bed. This didn't happen often, but Caitlyn appreciated you taking care of her when it did.

–– ELLIE ––

CRUSH STAGE: Oh, man. Crush stage Ellie is shy Ellie. She would like to flirt with you, yes, but you make her so nervous. She gets sweaty palms and picks at her hangnails. If you're in a group discussion together, she'll patiently wait for your conversation with someone else to end before she speaks up. While she waits, she'll come up with conversation topics and jokes to tell you.

Do the jokes land? No. They're the worst jokes you've ever heard, but you appreciate Ellie for trying. Her efforts were cute. Whenever the conversation picked up, Ellie got looser and more confident. She teased you more often, gave you silly facial expressions, and she often nudged your arm with hers or winked.

Her efforts of trying and being true to herself are what got you to crush on her back. Well, that and the fact that she's the most attractive person you've met.

RELATIONSHIP: Shy Ellie disappeared about two weeks into your relationship. She was more flirtatious and bold with her words. Not like she never was, but she wasn't afraid of creeping you out this time.

Ellie tries to be open with you when it comes to hardships. She wants to tell you what she's thinking and how she's coping, but she can't. Something was physically holding her back. Luckily for her, you weren't the type to force her into anything. She wasn't ready to talk? That's fine. You'll hold her and sit in a comfortable silence instead. She wanted to do something to take her mind off of things? Cool! You two can make a song together.

Your relationship teaches the two of you how to cope with your feelings and how to practice being okay with uncomfortable feelings. There's a lot of understanding and welcoming space in your relationship which you both can benefit from.

HABITS: Ellie has a habit of calling you 'babe' or 'baby'. If you don't like that, she'll try to come up with something else. Maybe the name of a planet that reminds her of you.

She also has the habit of sketching you. If you look through her sketchbook, you'll find sketches of you sleeping, upgrading/cleaning your weapons, getting ready in the morning, or even plain images of your lips and hands.

–– ROBIN ––

CRUSH STAGE: Golly gee. If it wasn't for Steve "The Hair" Harrington, Robin would have never talked to you. You were the cool person in school; even if you weren't, you were to her. She loved how you talked, how you laughed, and how you always incorporated your favorite color in your outfits.

Steve calls her a stalker with how much she knows about you, but she didn't care. If she couldn't talk to you, she wanted to be prepared in case the time did come.

Steve forced her to talk to you when he was picking her up after school. They were standing by Steve's car and you were finishing up a conversation nearby with your friend. When your friend drove off, you walked in Robin's direction. Before you passed, Steve shoved Robin forward. She stumbled, tripped over her feet, and complimented your outfit.

You stopped walking and turned to her with a wide smile. You thanked her and returned the compliment. From there, the two of you had a brief conversation about clothes and personal styles. Since then, you always sat next to each other to talk during lunch.

RELATIONSHIP: It was a miracle you two got together. You both friend-zoned each other so hard, you were convinced your relationship wouldn't progress any further.

With Robin working at Family Video and you being an avid movie watcher, you two tried to watch movies together at least twice a week. One night was an old movie and the other was a newer one. You commented on the act, script, and cinematography. Because of the comments, inside jokes were born left and right.

You two are definitely cuddle bugs. Deep into the night at each other's houses, you would be tangled up in bed playing with each other's hair and giggling about the stupidest things. Y'all were the definition of soft sapphics.

HABITS: During the school year, Robin had a habit of slipping notes in your locker or onto your lunch tray when you weren't looking. She would try to slip the notes in your locker before anyone was in the halls or she would get someone else to do it for her. The notes weren't anonymous and if she managed to get them in your locker, you would thank her during lunch period. Her response was always the same: a gummy smile and a bashful "you're welcome".

A bad habit of Robin's is her insecurity and fear of being found out. In the '80s, Robin's absolutely petrified of the town finding out about your relationship. She would try everything in the books. Claim you're best friends, have Steve pick you guys up separately and then be dropped off separately, and some days, she would try to avoid you in school. You never let her though.

In modern times, Robin's afraid you'll find someone else better than her. Who wants a freckled-face band geek for a girlfriend? News flash, you do! You always reassure her, telling her she's all you need. Eventually, the worrying stops, but the second she talks down about herself, you scold her and as punishment, she has to say an affirmation about herself in the mirror.

[inkedfountainpen]

pip? whom call ye "pip?"

(wip preview, 06/27/24)

Bruce had gotten Jason a car for his sixteenth birthday.

To be more precise, Bruce had purchased the car - small, green, temperamental, and used - with the intention of giving it to Jason for his sixteenth birthday. Jason, however, must have found it in the back of the garage several months before, eventually noticed the dorky custom plates which read "JTSPQOD" (JT's Pequod, a choice Tim was sure must have inspired a wry comment from Alfred), and then quickly made himself at home not unlike a crab moving into a new shell.

Officially, New Jersey law prohibited anyone under the age of seventeen from driving without the supervision of a licensed adult. Officially, Jason should not have started driving at all until he received his permit at sixteen. Unofficially, this was Gotham, and, unofficially, this was Jason.

an excerpt of a fic im working on!

[onepiece-fics]

Nami and Robin with a S/O that likes PDA

Summary: Headcanons for Nami and Robin with a significant other who loves PDA.

Warnings: Gender-neutral reader

Word count: 372 

Nami

For the most part, Nami is a big fan of PDA, as long as it’s at the right time and the right place.

She LOVES showing off her partner and being shown off at parties

She would not mind making out with her partner on the dance floor where everyone could see you, it’s her way of showing off that you’re hers and she’s yours.

When it’s just you and the crew though, there are limits. 

In front of her friends (in a sober state at least) she likes mild PDA, but isn’t comfortable with anything too heavy. 

Trying to make out with Nami in front of her friends is honestly a one-way ticket to being hit over the head lol

I can totally hear her voice going “nani yatten no?! mou-!” lol

In private she’s a total cuddle bug though, she will NOT let go of you.

She’s totally the type of person to be touching you at all times, even if it's just her pinky hooked to yours, or her playing footsie with you under the table lol

Robin

Robin has a more complicated relation to PDA

She doesn’t mind smaller displays of affection like hand-holding or even half-hugging into each other when you stand next to her.

If you kiss her in public though, her face will become fully red.

She might complain when you kiss her cheek in front of others, but it’s not serious. 

She does like it, but she’s just not used to that type of affection.

If you’ve been dating for a few years she’d probably be okay with short kisses and kisses on the cheeks or her/your forehead, but anything more than that, and she’ll probably be uncomfortable.

She does enjoy skinship a lot in private though.

Kind of like Nami, she doesn’t mind touching you at all times when you’re in private.

She LOVES laying her head on your shoulder or in your lap when you're busy working with something.

There’s also nothing better to her than being cuddled up to her s/o under a blanket during winter.

Honestly, overall Robin just isn’t used to affection, but she would probably warm up to the simpler things over time.

[nooowestayandgetcaught]

Fic: “Comedian’s Night”

read on AO3

Fandom: Teen Titans

Rating: T (for violence/blood)

Summary: Robin investigates trouble in Jump City's local performing arts center and gets the unlikeliest backup.

@flashfictionfridayofficial​​

Getting back from Steel City, and Titans East, for a double-team mission against H.I.V.E. Five, Robin has one mission— the Tower's main computer alerts.

911 calls. Emergency service updates. Police scans. He inspects all waiting to be reviewed. There appears to have been a fair amount of criminal activity before and after Robin left.  No spikes. The Team are still on their way back, so Robin does another data check-through with a more critical eye.

Is that… a skeletal-white face mask, great. Great.

Robin can feel the eye-roll coming, tapping on some of the keyss.

Same suit, same cape, same gadgets—

Same old nonsense.

However, a new distress-signal blinks on the flat computer-panel displays.

Trouble right in middle of Jump City?

Robin considers his options, deciding to alert Cyborg who is still driving everyone else in the T-car and going himself. Someone has to.

*

"How's about I introduce myself, ladies and germs!" she shrills over the heightened chaos. "Ya can call me Duela—the Joker's Daughter!"

No—

Robin groans lightly, his entire body protesting as he turns onto his stomach.

"I'm sure am glad I know sign language!" Duela recites, bending the fingers of a woman's hand she melted off. "Comes in prettieeee HANDY!"

Her high-pitched maniacal laughter echoes through the building.

Damn it—

"Some days, I miss my ex-boyfriend," Duela says gleefully, an the innocent man writhing in pain from his bleeding shoulder. Two razor-sharp playing cards embedded in him. "But my aim is steadily improving, wouldn'ya think?"

Robin drags himself back onto his feet to go to the injured man, clamping his fingers over the wound. It's not life-threatening.

"Take your scarf, apply pressure on it… he's okay, okay?" Robin assures the man's frantic date. "You need to get yourselves out of here."

He blocks them from Duela smirking.

Under the spotlights, her emerald-and-purple outfit glitters.

Duela's exposed flesh has a ghastly white sheen. Maybe a chemical alteration?

That doesn't make her…

"Joker's daughter?" Robin says scoffing, his vision still a little hazy. His muscles tremble. "More like a wannabe clown psycho."

Her smirk widens.

"And who are you? Hmm?" she jeers. "The Ugly Traffic Light Who Could?"

Robin unclips an ammunition disc, switching it on. 

The activation light blinking red. 

"Green means go, right," he quips, throwing the disc at Duela's feet. 

In moments, a stream of concentrated freezing gas bursts out, and Robin moves. He has to see who else is left before—

"NICE TRY!"

The smoke…

Robin feels it inside of him like a burning sick-sensation, growing heavier. 

His knees start to give.

"Night, night," Duela sing-songs, getting out her bullet-firing lipstick.

Robin's vision blurs.

A gigantic red X shoots through the air, colliding into Duela before she's fired her weapon, pinning her to the stage-wall.

"Is that all you got, kid—"

"Some folks just ain't cut out for showbiz—"

*

A deep, coughing wheeze startles Robin awake.

He lifts off the concrete rooftop, dazedly examining himself.

"Take it easy," comes the static-filled voice. Not far off, Red X has a foot on the rooftop's ledge, gazing out into the neon-lit skyline. "You woke up two times already. Puked the first time, and then, you started mumbling in another language the second. But I'm no expert in Western European."

"…did you kill her?" Robin croaks, ignoring how his heart pounds.

"Came close," Red X admits. "She's gonna be going 'night, night' for a while."

"Is this a detour from robbing a bank, X?"

"Saving your life?" 

A loud tutting noise crackles Red X's mask voice-box. 

"You're going to return the museum's jewels you stole…" Robin demands, weakly climbing to his knees. Red X shuffles his dark, leathered boot off the rooftop's ledge. He doesn’t seem very worried about Robin's hand going for his utility belt. Or rather, for no belt. Red X holds up Robin's belt.

"Finders keepers."

"Is that all that matters to you? Being a criminal?"

Robin hesitates, Red X's finger suddenly pushing under his chin, tilting his face.

"Not all…" Red X says.

The whites of Robin's eyelets go big.

Red X drags his fingertip purposefully, tilting Robin's face further up. No, no—Robin struggles against the humiliated blush, jerking away.

A static-snort of laughter.

"Don't drive under the influence, Chuckles," Red X quips, tossing one of the T-communicators. "Call for a ride. Safety first."

"You…"

"And I'll catch ya on the flip-side."

He takes a running leap off the building, which Robin suspects City Hall, vanishing in mid-air. Yep, definitely the same Red X tech.

Same old nonsense…

Robin presses for Cyborg's number, a little defeated.

Great.

[girlkisser13]

pink pony club

"god, what have you done?" "you're a pink pony girl" "and you dance at the club" "oh, mama, i'm just having fun" "on the stage in my heels" "it's where i belong, down at the pink pony club"

pairings: cowboy!dick grayson x city girl!reader

warnings/tags: none. tooth rotting fluff.

summary: "save a horse, ride a cowboy."

the vibrant neon lights of gotham city flickered overhead as you stepped out of the cab and onto the cracked sidewalk. your heels clicked against the pavement, the sound foreign in this gritty city, so different from the polished streets of metropolis. you tugged at the hem of your dress, already feeling slightly out of place in the leather-jacketed crowd milling about outside the bar. a few people glanced your way, curiosity in their eyes, but you paid them no mind. after all, you were here for one reason— barbara gordon.

"relax," barbara said, looping her arm through yours as she walked you toward the entrance of the club. "you look like you're about to bolt. it's not that bad."

"i feel like i just stepped onto the set of some western horror movie," you replied with a nervous laugh. "my mom would kill me if she knew i was in a place like this."

barbara smirked, "your mom doesn't need to know. besides, it's called the pink pony club. how bad can it be?"

you glanced up at the sign flashing in a garish shade of pink. "the pink pony club? really?"

she shrugged. "it's an old gotham staple. trust me, by the end of the night, you'll be glad i brought you here. come on, you’re always so uptight. it’s time you loosened up a little. city girls can be fun, too."

you sighed but followed her inside, the door swinging shut behind you with a dull thud. the interior was dimly lit, the kind of place that seemed to thrive on shadow and secrets. music thrummed from every corner, the beat heavy and slow, and the scent of whiskey hung thick in the air. your heels sank slightly into the sticky floor, but you did your best to ignore it. you tugged at the collar of your jacket, feeling slightly claustrophobic in the dim room, surrounded by locals dressed in leather, denim, and boots.

barbara gave you a reassuring smile. "trust me, this is going to be fun."

you weren't so sure, but before you could say anything, your gaze was drawn across the room to a man standing at the bar. tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a black cowboy hat tipped low over his face, he cut an impressive figure. his shirt was buttoned down to reveal just a hint of his toned chest, and his jeans hung low on his hips, completed with a heavy belt buckle and boots that looked worn from years of use.

he caught your stare and tilted his head up slightly, giving you a full view of his face. dark hair curled out from beneath his hat, and his blue eyes glinted with something unreadable. he looked like trouble. the kind of trouble your mother warned you about back in metropolis.

"two drinks," the bartender said, sliding a couple of glasses across the bar toward you. you blinked, confused.

"excuse me?"

"from the gentleman over there." the bartender nodded toward the man you had just been staring at. he raised his glass to you in a silent toast, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn he smiled, just the corner of his mouth quirking up in amusement.

you turned to barbara, who had been watching the whole exchange with a smirk. "who is that?"

barbara glanced over her shoulder and chuckled. "oh, him? that’s dick grayson."

"dick?" you couldn’t help but laugh. "are you serious? his name’s really dick?"

barbara’s laughter was louder this time, and she leaned in conspiratorially. "that’s what they call him. well, his name’s richard, but no one calls him that. you’ll see."

you rolled your eyes and took a hesitant sip of the drink he sent over, the alcohol warming your throat as you swallowed. barbara nudged you with her elbow, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "come on, let’s dance. i’ll show you how we do things here in gotham."

before you could protest, she grabbed your hand and pulled you onto the dance floor. the music was louder now, the bass reverberating through your chest as barbara moved easily to the rhythm, swaying her hips with a confidence that made you feel like a fish out of water. you tried to keep up, but the heels you wore weren’t exactly made for this kind of dancing.

still, you were having fun. the energy of the crowd was contagious, and as you let the music guide your movements, you caught sight of the cowboy again. he was watching you— intently, as if you were the only person in the room. the intensity of his stare sent a shiver down your spine, though you couldn't decide if it was from excitement or nerves.

barbara leaned in close to you, her breath hot against your ear. "looks like someone’s interested."

"i’m not here for that," you muttered, though your eyes still drifted to the man in the cowboy hat. there was something about him, something that made your heart race in a way you didn’t expect.

as if on cue, the man pushed off from the bar and made his way toward you. he moved with an easy confidence, his long strides parting the crowd effortlessly. he stopped in front of you and tipped his hat, his smile slow and charming. "mind if i cut in?"

you exchanged a glance with barbara, who gave you an encouraging nod. with a small shrug, you stepped back, allowing him to take your hand. his grip was firm but gentle as he pulled you closer, his other hand settling at the small of your back. up close, he was even more handsome than you’d realized, his eyes a striking shade of blue, and his smile— it was almost too perfect.

"you’re a good dancer," he said, his voice low and smooth, laced with a subtle southern accent. "you dance like you’ve been here before."

you rolled your eyes. "i think you’ve got the wrong girl. i’m just visiting. and i’m definitely not a dancer."

"oh? you could’ve fooled me," he teased, his voice thick with amusement.

you let out a short laugh, feeling a little more comfortable now. "i doubt that."

"i didn’t catch your name," he said, still leading you across the floor with surprising grace for someone dressed like a cowboy. "and i would’ve remembered a pretty face like yours."

you rolled your eyes again, though this time it was more playful than dismissive. "i’m y/n. and is your name really dick?"

his smile widened as he chuckled. "my legal name is richard, but you can call me whatever you want, darlin'."

you tried to hide your smirk but failed. "that’s very generous of you, dick."

he tipped his hat to you, his grin never faltering. "what brings a city girl like you to gotham, anyhow? ain’t often we get visitors from the big, shiny metropolis."

you glanced over at barbara, who was dancing with someone else now, laughing as if she didn’t have a care in the world. "i’m visiting my best friend. barbara gordon."

at the mention of barbara’s name, dick’s eyes lit up with recognition. "ah, babs. now that explains it," he said, glancing you up and down. his gaze lingered briefly on your heels, and he gave you a charming grin. "gotta say, though, the way you’re movin’ out here, it’s like you were born for this place. like you belong here."

you laughed softly and shook your head. "yeah, no. gotham is about as far from my world as it gets."

dick’s smile widened. "maybe. but the way you’re dancin’, it sure don’t seem that way." his hand tightened just slightly on your waist, a teasing glint in his eyes. "you ever thought about stickin' around? there's more to gotham than just this club."

"oh, really? and what exactly does gotham have that metropolis doesn’t?" you asked, playing along.

his grin turned mischievous as he leaned in just a little closer, his blue eyes locking onto yours. "me," he said, his voice low and smooth, full of confidence.

you let out a surprised laugh, rolling your eyes. "of course you’d say that."

before you could fire back with anything else, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a card. "tell you what," he said, handing it to you, "how about you come by my family’s ranch? we’ll save some horses together."

you glanced down at it. printed on it in elegant lettering was:

wayne ranch

1007 mountain rd.

and, in smaller, bolder letters at the bottom:

"save a horse, ride a cowboy."

you couldn’t help but laugh. "seriously? this is your business card?"

he winked at you. "it gets the point across. so what do you say? you come by, we’ll save some horses together." his grin was shameless, his southern drawl thick with playful charm. "i’ll introduce you to my brothers, too."

"your brothers?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "how many of you are there?"

he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "enough to keep things interestin’. you’d have fun, trust me." the song was nearing its end, and dick gently let go of your waist, tipping his hat as he took a step back. "i hope to see you there, darlin'."

before you could respond, the music stopped, and dick flashed you one last smile before walking away, disappearing into the crowd. you were left standing on the dance floor, the card still in your hand.

barbara, having watched the entire exchange, snatched the card from you the moment dick was out of sight. she read the slogan and burst into laughter. "save a horse, ride a cowboy? i can’t believe he actually gave you this!"

you shrugged, though you couldn’t fight back your own smile. "there’s no way i can go. my mom would never let me visit some ranch with a guy i just met.

barbara gave you a look. "is your mom the fun police now?"

"she just wouldn’t understand," you replied, feeling your old reservations bubbling up again. "i mean, seriously, it’s gotham. and a ranch?"

barbara looped her arm through yours with a wicked grin. "oh, we’re definitely going. you can tell your mom you’re ‘saving horses.’ it’ll be fun, i promise."

despite your protests, you had a feeling barbara wasn’t going to take no for an answer. and, honestly? you weren’t sure you wanted to say no. not after meeting dick grayson.

[flow33didontsmoke]

when y/n does something so bad/embarrassing you have to facepalm and close your eyes for a minute

[everwalldigan]

Bruce: *waking up in a hospital that he drove himself to after having a heart attack and telling absolutely nobody* hey…

The entirety of the batclan looking over him with Dick in the centre, an absolute terrifying grin on his face:

Dick: hello Bruce, nice evening isn’t it? Got something to share with us?

Edit: the fic is now out on ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/57780508

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Brucie Wayne gets into a mild accident in public (read-got hit by a car). And Batman would just walk it off (“it’s barely a bruise”), but Brucie obviously… can’t.

So he has to suffer the ordeal of having civilians call paramedics, getting fussed over, and having-

Having his dead son get into the back of the ambulance with him.

Oh- oh no. He must have hit his head worse than he thought. He thought he was past this…

[goodoldfashionedengineer]

I always have to smile at myself when I read a fanfic in which Bruce immediately catches Jason after he hits with his tire iron.

I get why fanfic writers do it, so they can move the plot along without having to write the chase after Jason or the scene when they do talk in the condemned building that Jason sleeps in. I get it.

But I always have to think about canon then.

Because not only did Jason manage to run away from Batman.

He also called him a 'big boob'.

I repeat. He gets caught jacking the tires. Tries to deny it. Hits Batman with a tire iron, runs away and insults him.

This 12-year old did something that every rogue would never even dream of.

[inkedfountainpen]

PWCYP, chapter two WIP (7/21)

Batman was apparently on conference call with Nightwing and Oracle.

"Robin's here. Let's get this underway," the Dark Knight thundered. The effect was somewhat ruined by Bruce taking delicate bite of shredded chicken. Tim hid a smile behind a sip of water.

"For those unaware," Oracle's synthesized voice began, "last night's patrol was..."

"-fff-ooo-BAR?" Nightwing's voice warbled; the audio was extremely choppy. Tim privately thought that "fucked up beyond all recognition" was an exaggeration. Patrol had been weirdly quiet, true. And yes, quiet generally did not mean good things for Gotham. But let's not get ahead of ourselves!

[forrestfantasy94]

When a multi chapter fanfic hasn't been updated in the past 2 years but the author is still active

[gothamite-rambler]

That was actually a good deed, Jason.

Jason Todd walked over to Bruce Wayne scrolling through photos on his phone. He tapped the man on the shoulder.

Jason: You want baby pictures of Damian?

Bruce spat out his coffee in shock. Jason chuckled.

Jason: You have to pay me.

Bruce (frantic): You better not be lying to me because if you have baby pictures of him I will pay you whatever price you ask.

Jason: Um okay I have about 10 I can give you now so $10,000 for each one.

Bruce: Stay there, gotta get my phone and I'll transfer the funds to your bank account.

Bruce ran out of the room leaving Jason Todd with Alfred watching the entire interaction, impressed.

Alfred: Jason, how did you get baby pictures?

Jason: Remember, I knew about his existence before Bruce ever did. I visited the kid for the first 9 years before Bruce found out about him. Talia paid me to take photos of him for memories.

Alfred: That's very wholesome of you.

Jason (confused): I said Talia paid me.

Alfred: Money or not, you did a good deed. Now Master Bruce can have a few photos and trust me, he's been begging Talia for baby pictures for years. Be proud of yourself.

Jason smiled.

Jason: I appreciate you saying that.

Alfred: I mean every word of it. You're welcome.

[sundropcass]

99% of what I read is angst but you know what my secret favorite fanfiction category is? Outsider POV. I love a good fic where we’re in the perspective of characters who have no idea what the fuck is going on and are stuck watching our MCs be absolutely ridiculous. I love every version of this trope. It could be mostly text based. It could be mostly social media based. As long as it checks the boxes? I’m all in. You don’t understand. I think the first one of these I read was with Sam and Dean Winchester as kids in school from the perspective of a guidance counselor. I have been ruined. I have read every fic I could find with the premise of SkyGem’s Retirement AU (Yuri On Ice). I read White Collar DC crossover fanfiction despite not knowing or caring about White Collar because I treat it like outsider POV fanfictions with a fun identity reveal element. My favorite My Hero Academia fanfiction of all time is entirely made up of social media bit and bobs (tumblr posts, twitter posts, text message chains, etc). I am currently reading a Carmen Sandiego fic like this and it is such a crack fic. It is so unserious. I can’t put it down. I am so hooked.

[hiroyildiz]

Fanfic idea:

When Jason inexplicably gets out of his grave and starts wandering the streets of Gotham it's not Talia who finds him, it's John Constantine.

Jason: *Zombying*

Constantine: Ah! A zombie!

Jason: *Holds his hand*

Constantine: Ah! Attachment!

Tim: What'cha got'cha there mr. Magic User who isn't supposed to be in Gotham?

Constantine: *Holding a dangerous artifact he stole from Tim's house*

Constantine: *Shoves Jason forward* The old Robin.

Tim: Holy overreaction, magic man.

Featuring tired-single-mom-of-two Constantine™, magical side of Jason, Tim's house full of cursed artifacts, League of Assassins in distress and bat-kids making Bruce re-evaluate his life choices by getting involved with sorcery.

[stealingyourbones]

During Danny’s 30 minute lunch break he spends his time reading comics from Ghostwriter’s collection in the Watchtower employee breakroom. It took a while to convince Ghostwriter to even start adding comics to his library, but after a passionate rant about the history of comics the influencing media of the medium, a new library wing was added to GW’s haunt that was rapidly filling with comics from all across the realms. In payment for helping him realize the literary importance of comic books, Ghostwriter lets Danny check out as many comics as he wishes. On average Danny manages to read 2-3 comics per break and leaves them in the breakroom during his shift. (the security at the Watchtower is over the top and no one dares steal from other employees as it’d give grounds for instant termination. Stealing a comic book from a coworker isn’t worth losing a very high paying job). The alarm on Danny’s phone goes off. His lunch break has ended. Danny huffs in mild annoyance, he was just about to finish his third comic of the day. Oh well. Danny places a bookmark gently on his current page and heads out of the breakroom. — Red Robin was asked by a maintenance worker near the conference room he just left for a Justice League briefing to grab a multitool he forgot in the employee breakroom. Tim didn’t mind as it was only a small detour on his way out. The breakroom was the same as he remembered it to be. White room with a small kitchen area and cabinets against one wall, lockers against the other, and a Justice League mural on the back wall. Grabbing the multitool which was right where the maintenance guy said it would be, he turned around to head out. He was planning to walk right back to the Watchtower worker and leave but something caught his eye. A small pile of comics lightly stacked on a table. A pile of comics titled Red Robin.