#and Batman puts his foot in his mouth

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Being Destructive

Marvel’s destructive. It’s not even on purpose too. It just happens. He can’t control it. For the most part, that is. Like, he’ll get startled and pull a Castiel from that one episode of Supernatural.

Marvel: *trying to steal some food for Billy*

Flash: “Cap, buddy!”

Marvel: *startles and the lightbulb above them just bursts*

*loud silence*

Flash: “Cap, whose leftovers are those?”

Marvel: *slowly turns around to look at Flash, sure enough, Marvel’s holding a container or Tupperware, with a sticky note that said GL* “Uh… mine?”

Flash: “I can see that they’re Hal’s.”

Marvel: *takes off the sticky note and crumples it in his hand. Then proceeds to fry it with lightning* “What’re you talking about?”

Flash: *a little speechless*

Marvel: “Right… So I’m gonna go. See you, Flash.” *little wave as he walks off*

Billy felt really bad about it, but the kid needed it more than Hal at the moment. Probably. Look, he was running low on money at the moment and hadn’t eaten in a couple days. The hunger pangs were getting to him. He did end up making a bunch of food for Hal in an attempt to apologize.

GL: “Woah, what’s all this?”

Marvel: *in full lightning bolt apron* “Uh… Remember how you were complaining last week about how someone stole your food?”

GL: “Yeah?”

Marvel: “Right, well that was me.”

GL: *dramatic gasp* “I vented to you about that! And you just took it like you were innocent?!”

Marvel: “I know, I know, and I’m sorry. Just eat all the food I made for you. Please?”

GL: *looks to the freaking feast Marvel made for him* “Yeah, okay. I forgive you.” *starts chowing down* “By the way, why’d you steal my foot anyways? I thought you didn’t need to eat.”

Marvel: “I just really needed it at the time.”

GL: “Why?”

Marvel: “Just eat the food, Hal.”

Then, there’s the fact that Billy sometimes forgets he isn’t as small as he usually is. Like, he’s gotten used to it. After all, he’s been Cap for almost four years now. He now unconsciously bends down when entering and exiting through doors due to the fact he’s cracked his head on more doorframes than he can count. This even bled over to Billy who’s only about 5’4 and definitely doesn’t need to do it. But, every now and then as Cap, he’ll slip up and forget he isn’t that little scrawny short kiddo.

JL: *all having a meeting* Marvel: *drops something under the table and leans down the pick it it up*

GA: *immediately grabs his mug of coffee and scoots back from the table*

Other JL members: *watch in confusion as GA scoots back but then watch in slow motion at Marvel tries to get back to his chair and stands up to early. The table slowly starts tilting up and all of their stuff slides to the floor. Marvel then gets out from under the table and the table falls back to the floor with a loud bang*

Marvel: *confused by the loud bang and looks back* “Where’d all your guys’ stuff go?”

GA: *scoots back to table and puts his mug back down* “No idea, bud.”

The reason Green Arrow knew to take his stuff and scoot back is that one time when he got lunch with Cap, he watched in real time as his burger and soda slid off the table when the big man went down to grab a fork he dropped.

Then, there’s the super duper ultra rare times he forgets his own strength. Like, once a year, he’ll break something or someone and then end up having to apologize a lot.

Batman: *shows Marvel an explosive batarang* “These are extremely delicate. If they’re chipped or thrown at someone, they’ll explo-”

Marvel: *reaches over to touch it and accidentally snaps a piece of it off*

*silence*

*beeping noise starts*

Marvel: *panics and breaks the rest of it and shoves it in his mouth, basically eating the explosion, Superman style*

Batman: *stares for a solid minute* “I could’ve turned it off, Captain.”

Marvel: *coughs up smoke looking embarrassed* “Sorry, Mister Batman Sir.”

Batman: *stares for another solid minute* “Can we talk about how your first instinct was to eat it?”

Marvel: “I’d rather not.”

Batman: “I really think we should.”

[redflagshipwriter]

Mamabat Chapter 11: the trap snaps shut

masterpost

Five vans peeled into view, rocketing around the curved road fast enough that they visibly tilted through the turn. They all bristled with weaponry.

Cass felt her lips press into a faint line. She glanced at Dannybaby: scared. I knew it. Here they are.

They didn’t have to talk about it. The three adults stepped out and put their backs to ring Danny, facing outwards to the threat.

“Shoot the racks,” she commanded. The mounted weapons. She didn’t like that. She pulled out a batarang herself and squinted to find her aim. The construction? Sloppy. Exposed wires. Weakness.

A gun cocked. “Aye aye, captain.” Jason hefted a gun in each hand and started shooting as the vans screeched to a stop in a circle around them. Bang! Sparks flew where he hit. Cass and Dickiebird did the same with quieter precision, slicing wires and leaving projectiles sticking into the metal monstrosities. Electricity sparked. Just in time: machines whined as they were powered on. One gave out with a huge bang!  The van attached to it jolted as the machine punched a huge dent into the roof. White smoke floated away, clouding the nighttime scene with a chemical stink.

“Whoa,” Danny breathed.

She felt a twinge of satisfaction.

Jason hit the last set-up with a bang! Bang! Then his foot scuffed across the pavement to knock against Danny’s. Check, you’re here, you’re safe, you’re little.

“They’ll come out!” Danny warned.

He was right. Doors clicked unlocked all around them and men in white suits piled out, futuristic looking guns aimed at the little group. 

She felt a twinge of disbelief. “Can’t shoot,” Cass said. No way. So dumb. They were in a circle. Friendly fire, new concept to losers??

They shot. She hit the ground in a roll and trusted that everyone else would. They did. She turned her head to see that one agent was down from friendly fire. There was no blood as he was lifted off his feet and blasted backwards against the van he came out of.

“Ghost scum!” howled one of the suits.

“We knew it!” 

The victory in their voices set her blood boiling. Cass launched herself to the closest opponent and took him down with a nasty hit. She whirled on the next one, two mean hits. Go, go, clear the area! She heard feet scuffling and weapons whining as they fired, fired, fired on the boys.

She took number 4 down as the smoke was starting to clear. She heard a pained oof from the center, where Jason and Dickiebird were blocking Danny.

“Jason!” Danny said. He sounded very young. “Oh, shit.” Cass cast a frantic glance over at his posture and sucked in a breath even as she bulleted towards the next opponent. Determined. I have to do this. Here we go! 

No, no!

Jason was down. Dickiebird was darting between Jason and the man actively firing. Danny was pale. He opened his mouth. He put his palms out. He flashbanged. 

She blinked away stars and slammed a man’s head into a van before he could aim at her. Slam, slam, drop. She stole another glance. Danny was- Danny had white hair now and he was flashing green light at their enemies. Hm. She couldn’t afford to watch. Cass bared her teeth, angry. 

Air sizzled: GIW firing wildly. Guns fired: Jason was still conscious. Danny yelped: what? 

Cass didn’t dare look more. She moved faster than Batman could ever, brutally taking down these criminals with disdainful ease. They had nothing but numbers and lasers. 

Green shot past her vision. She traced it back: Danny! Her eyes went wide. Wow. He had some kind of organic blast, like Starfire. Very useful! 

 It wasn’t enough. Danny screamed. She heard him hit the ground. Sizzling.

She howled, wordless with fury. She tackled the next agent and cracked his head against the pavement. Only two more. She flung a batarang down the barrel aimed at her and then yanked the weapon away to brutally jab the air out of the agent’s diaphragm. Cass tossed it at him as he fell. Solid thunk. It hit his head.

The last man tried to say something, white teeth flashing in the gloom. Her ears were closed to it. The only language she spoke right now was violence. She used it to get him down and wrench him into zip ties. She could hear Dickiebird talking his soothing sounds at Danny baby. Cass wanted to go there. Cass wanted to soothe him. She wanted to see his hurts. 

But she had to secure the area. She rushed around to the groaning and crying men she had put down. She immobilized them. The foolish ones tried to get up as she approached. The smart one (and there was only one) held his hands out, eyes wide in the night. He talked at her. Beseeching, reasoning, she just doesn’t understand. You’re like me. Not like them.

Cass snarled. She understood just fine. She pressed his face into the ground harshly, fingers digging into his jaw. “Shut up,” she gritted out. She left him with effort, ignoring the mean impulse to smack him. 

All the boys were on the ground. There was no blood. Eyes open. Not dead.

Something in her gun unclenched.

Dickiebird looked up at her from where he was supporting Jason, sitting halfway with a grimace as he holstered his guns. Hands shaking. “He’ll be fine!” Danny pressed his body against Jason like he was trying to absorb his body heat. His hair was black again and his eyes looked tired. “He, uh, it’s shock,” Dannybaby babbled. She knelt to rub at his back, silently encouraging the explanation. “They basically zapped his ecto, stopped circulation. It should start up again in a few minutes and he’ll feel fine.”

“Get off,” Jason grunted. He shoved at Dickiebird. Weak. “I feel fine.”

Lie.

“I feel drained,” he admitted. “But fine. Just weak. I can stand.” He struggled to stand, biting his lip. He swayed only slightly. “Man,” he cursed under his breath. Jason cast an unhappy look at the 14 agents groaning on the ground, on their bellies like the worms they were with hands ziptied at their backs. “Not my best showing.”

“Next time, you could dodge,” Dickiebird suggested lightly. 

“You’re lucky it got him and not you,” Danny snapped. “Didn’t you see that guy go flying?”

Tense. Dickiebird paused. Smile. Soothe. “I’m only teasing,” he said. “It’s fine, Danny.”

“None of this is fine!” Cass swiveled her head to make sweltering eye contact with the scumbag who was cutting in. He was bold, for someone with his cheek digging into the rocks and cement. “By the authority of the US Government, you are required to submit these ecto-entities for testing and capture into our custody. Release us, or face dire consequences!”

Cass looked at him. She felt hate. Disdain. You’re nothing, you’re a worm to me. 

“They’re telling the truth,” Danny whispered. “It’s, uh, it’s legal.” He looked haunted. He rubbed at his chest: some memory of sharp pain.

Dickiebird snorted and slung an arm over Danny’s narrow shoulders. “Maybe by US laws, but Oa has jurisdiction that supersedes. This was a clear case of assault.” He gave an unpleasant smile. Big brother. Big angry. Guard dog at the door. “I’ll make a call.” 

The next minutes felt very long. Cass pressed Danny’s face into her shoulder so that he didn’t have to make eye contact with the fallen agents. She stroked his hair with her free hand, boiling inside with fury. 

Dickiebird called. A Green Lantern answered: coming.

They waited. Jason said he felt better. His body said: mostly better. But strange. They ignored the threats and complaints from the GIW men on the ground.

Hal Jordan came, with one more Green Lantern that Cass didn’t know. He gathered up prisoners in a green veil. He talked with Dickiebird. He nodded, and left.

“I wanna go home,” Danny said quietly. “But I think that we need to get Jason to my doctor. He’s really not right. It’s… It might be time sensitive.”

[sanguineterrain]

im begging you to write a part 2 of vigilante reader because the way you write??? the dynamic between reader and jason??? the sex tension???are chef kiss!!!

thanks very much! part 2 and I couldn't put off the reveal bc I'm just too impatient lol 🫶 but I might write another part post-reveal? maybe? cuz I'm growing attached to these two <3

jason todd x gn!vigilante!reader (nocturne). tw explosions, smoke inhalation, reader passes out, canon typical violence, identity reveal, asshole bruce. jason is in love? jason is in love.

read pt 1 here! | all fics are reblogged to @sanguinelibrary

****

"Go home."

"Bruce, I—"

Bruce looks at you, eyes sharp with fury and... something else. Something older.

The others know how to talk back. You still haven't gained the courage to sass The Batman.

"Go. Home. If you need an escort, I can call Superman."

You take a step back at his coldness.

"Bruce, I know I messed up, letting Hood escape but—"

"Yes, you did. You deliberately disobeyed an order. I told everybody to stand down. He could've killed you."

But he didn't, you don't say. He could've, but he chose not to.

He'd felt safe.

"I had it under control, honestly. He wasn't—it wasn't like the other encounters you've had with him. He wouldn't have hurt me."

That is the wrong thing to say. You realize that after the words leave your mouth and the muscles in Bruce's jaw jump.

"You can't be this naive. I know I wouldn't have chosen someone who's this naive," he says savagely. "You know Hood can't be trusted, and you're defending him to me. We've seen time and again he's rogue. He doesn't make sense and that's exactly why he's dangerous."

"But if you would just listen—"

"Enough," he snaps. "Enough. Go home. I'm suspending you for three weeks."

"Three w—I'm not even injured!" you cry.

"No, but you need the time. You're not thinking clearly. Go. I don't want to see you until next month."

You press your lips together before you say something truly foul. Something about Batman's habit of pushing people away. Something about dead Robins.

You don't let the tears fall until you leave the Cave. This is all Hood's fault. You know it would've been a different conversation if you'd managed to successfully capture him.

You'll take down the Red Hood if it's the last thing you do.

****

It takes you approximately two days to break your suspension.

In your defense, you meant to follow Bruce's orders. You would've stayed put and helped Barbara with research instead.

But not at the expense of civilian lives.

"All units to Canal and Riverview, 10-80. Standby. Do not enter the factory until given clearance from the Bomb Squad."

You turn off the police scanner and stuff it in your drawer. In Gotham, explosions usually come in multiples. If there's one, there's bound to be another. The police are generally inept when it comes to evacuating civilians. You know one of the other Bats are on their way, but you're the closest to the docks.

You glance at your suit. No. If you go as Nocturne, Batman might suspend you indefinitely.

You grab your gas mask and put on a black hoodie and a domino mask. You'll just have to make do.

The marina is blanketed in thick smoke. It makes your eyes water. But in the commotion it causes, you're able to slip past the barriers and help workers out of the factory. It's difficult because without the suit, people don't give you the same trust and respect. But you're anonymous, and that's all that matters.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

You ignore the voice and keep hauling two elderly workers towards the exit. They're barely outside before you turn around, determined to clear every level of the factory.

You're yanked backward by a hand on your hoodie. You nearly lose your footing, but the hand is firm, dragging you towards the pier.

You're spun around and put face to face with a red helmet.

Oh, of all the fucking—

"Let go of me!" you shout, smacking his arm. Hood's grip tightens.

"I will as soon as you stop doing stupid shit. What were you thinking, coming here?"

You pause. Whoops. This isn't how a plain civilian would react to being apprehended by the Red Hood.

And that's definitely not how the Red Hood would react to getting swatted by a random civilian. Shit.

"I was, um, I was thinking I could help," you say haltingly. "P-please don't hurt me, Mr. Hood, I was—"

Hood sighs and lets you go, then tucks his gun into his holster.

"Cut the shit. I know you're Nocturne. I also know that you need some acting lessons because what the hell was that? Mr. Hood?"

A chill washes over you. "I don't know what you mean. Nocturne?"

Hood shakes his head. "I don't have time for this. The building's gonna collapse any second. Stay. Put."

He goes back toward the smoking entrance. Your eye twitches as you follow him.

"Last time I checked, you don't have that kind of authority, Hood."

He turns around and looms over you. "Don't I?"

Anyone else would back down. You might've a week ago. You should, after the tongue lashing Bruce gave you.

But there's no soot on Hood's helmet or vest. He doesn't smell sweet like gasoline or pungent like motor oil.

He was in the factory to help.

Something shifts. Batman is wrong. Batman is more wrong than he's ever been.

Because Hood's not the enemy here. Not anymore. Maybe not ever.

You push past Hood. "It'll be faster if we work together."

"Oh, absolutely not. You're not even in your suit."

"As per your request," you say, flashing a plastic smile. "You're welcome."

"Don't get cute with me, you—hey!"

You dart past him and go straight into the factory. Hood shouts your name, which makes you pause, just for a moment.

But revealed identity or not, you need to clear the building. So you pull on your mask and run faster.

Your worst fear is confirmed when you check the upper level: someone was missed in the evacuation. It's a worker, and she's unconscious.

You don't think about how explosions come in pairs in Gotham. Don't think about how long it'll take to get to the exit.

You take off your mask and slide it onto her face. The smoke burns your throat immediately, but you ignore it and lift her in a fireman carry, just as you were taught all those years ago by Robin. He's the one who taught you how to save people without relying on brute strength or height.

You hope he's alright, wherever he is. You hope he's not too upset seeing you rush into a burning building.

That's your last thought when you see the entrance. Your face is covered in sweat and grime. The heat from the fires is exhausting. You can feel your eyes beginning to close.

"There's something seriously wrong with you," a decoded voice says in your ear, and then the woman's weight is lifted from your shoulders.

Hood grabs your hand, the woman over his opposite shoulder, and you make it out just as the second explosion goes off. It knocks you forward.

Hood puts the woman down just in time to catch you. His arm is around your waist, the other hand cradling your head. His gloved thumb touches your mouth, and you feel his dawning realization as he finally sees your mask on the woman.

"Don't tell Ba'man," you slur.

"Jesus fuck—" Hood starts to drag you. You feel lightheaded. He's moving, and you wish he'd stop. "You don't take off your mask. You never take off your mask. We taught you that!"

"She was unconscious, J'y..."

Arms tighten around you. Everything goes dark.

****

You wake up to the smell of scrambling eggs.

For a moment, you just bask in the smell. It smells like Alfred's breakfast scramble. Bacon. Butter. Golden potatoes.

Then you wake up further and realize that you're not in the Manor. You're in your apartment.

So who's cooking?

You get up quietly, slipping out of your room. You pause in front of the full-length mirror.

Honestly, you've looked worse. Your hair needs a wash, and you're in the same clothes you went into the building with, which are now a little charred. But your face is clean of soot, and your throat hurts only a little.

The kitchen sink runs. You slowly creep out into the living room, keeping your breathing even and silent.

The mess of black hair, you recognize. Sort of. You might've mistaken him for Bruce if you didn't know that Bruce has a lifetime ban from kitchens all over the world.

He's too tall to be Dick. Too skilled in the kitchen to be Bruce. Too nice to be Bruce, too—you can't imagine Bruce Wayne making you eggs. Especially when you disobeyed his orders. Again.

The red helmet on the kitchen stool turns your blood to ice.

You grab the letter opener from a drawer and wait a few seconds to see if Hood's heard you. Then you throw the letter opener with near perfect aim at his exposed shoulder.

He catches it without turning.

Your heart skips a beat. Every time you think you might get the drop on him, Hood reminds you just how competent he really is.

A mix of fear, aggravation, and something you don't want to examine too closely swirls in your gut.

"Impressive," he says. "Dami been training you? Mama Al-Ghul spent a lot of time on his knife lessons."

"Why are you in my apartment?"

Hood sets the letter opener down on the counter and turns off the stove. Then he serves the breakfast scramble on two plates, then sprinkles chives over them.

This is the weirdest kidnapping ever.

He sighs, back still facing you.

"You can't tell anyone it's me," he says.

"You make a lot of demands for a guy who just used the last of my eggs."

Hood laughs. It sounds wet. It sounds like grief.

"God, I've missed ya, honeylove."

Your heart pounds. You try to find another weapon, anything. Hood doesn't give you the chance.

He turns around.

The first thing you see is the stark white streak of hair and the curls you once loved. The curls that were near unrecognizable in the casket.

You were right: Batman was wrong.

pt 3

[thebirdsandthebats]

Okay @s-p-r-i-n-g-t-i-m-e I’m sure you know plenty BUT I’m going to use your wonderful and hilarious comment on this as an excuse to talk about Bernard, bc I realized recently that there are plenty of ppl who haven’t read most of the comics he’s been in. So get ready for my long overdue:

UNPACKING BERNARD DOWD + HIS TRAUMA (for those who cannot keep up with comics but want to get to know him)

So to start, Tim met Bernard years ago ofc, when they were in high school. It’s established pretty quick that Bernard is an extremely Unserious guy LMAO, the first thing he does is literally circle Tim and try to feel him out socially, see what kind of guy he is. He’s the kind of guy who gets himself in trouble with his big mouth, and seems to enjoy poking at Tim and testing his patience. By the time we meet Bernard again in the recent years, he’s grown a lot, but at his core he’s still the light-hearted, fun, goofy guy with very strong opinions. Just less stand-offish, maybe

Throughout the time Tim spends at this school though, Bernard does experience some wild shit. He lost Darla (somebody he really cared about), he experienced a shooting at his school, and then Darla came back from the dead, kind of scared the hell out of him, and used him to contact Tim again. It was kind of played for laughs, but like. That’s gotta fuck you up. (Robin #140)

Obviously this is the kind of thing that maybeee has a lasting effect on you. And BECAUSE Tim Drake: Robin got cut so short and the writer had to rush to wrap up the series, we’re left to fill in a lot of gaps and draw conclusions about the years we didn’t see Bernard ourselves. But we absolutely get some insight as to his life after Tim left that school and we stopped seeing him in the comics. Spoiler alert: it was hard.

In TDR, Bernard discusses the the cult that he’d been in that Tim saved him from in Urban Legends. He says that “he’d accepted himself”, but others hadn’t. Obviously there’s the natural reading that he means his queerness (which has me chewing through drywall), but I think that he’s speaking very broadly too. Bernard is a very odd example of a civilian, because he’s always getting dragged into things much bigger than him. And even before that, he had his big ideas, his conspiracies, his loud personality. He tended to rub people the wrong way in high school. Then in issue #7 of TDR (the Bernard pov issue my most beloved, weird pacing aside) Bernard refers to this “oozy, sticky feeling” that he ALWAYS feels when Tim isn’t around. He says when he’s alone it’s harder to put one foot in front of the other. To keep GOING. To wake up every day.

I think that Bernard has always felt like an outcast. (Robin #121, he doesn’t fit into any clique). He wasn’t as okay with it as he acted. And I think he wasn’t getting any attention from his parents. (Batman: Urban Legends #5, Bernard’s parents nonchalance to the days leading up to his kidnapping)

So just like Bernard explained to Tim, that feeling got bad. and he wanted to let go. The chaos monsters, the cult, all of it was a means to an end. But then Tim agreed to see him again, and I think that sparked something in him. Because he started learning to fight. When he was tied down to that alter and Tim was saving him, I think it fully sank in to Bernard that he didn’t want to die. Reconnecting with Tim gave him hope and made him really feel something good for the first time in ages.

So now that they’re dating after the cult fiasco, we get to know this current Bernard. A less goading, maybe calmer Bernard. But he’s still himself, of course, rambling about his ideas and making bad jokes and sticking to his guns (he has NEVER been a pushover, no idea where people get that idea?). I think a lot of people complained that Bernard mellowed out too much in terms of attitude, but I think if he seems “nicer” it’s because 1) he’s grown now. It’s been a while since we last saw him, and he’s clearly changed a lot. And 2) because he’s dating Tim now. He likes him a lot, and he’s an affectionate partner. He wants to lift Tim up.

But the fact that he was pulled into a cult still remains. And as lighthearted as Bernard tries to be, that traumatic experience still happened. It said in Urban Legends #5 while Tim was searching for him that Bernard had welts on his arms and legs and had been acting different, so it’s not like he was just snatched up on a whim. He’d spent significant time there. For those who haven’t read much abt the ways cult trauma specifically can fuck you up, I recommend doing a search if you’re in a good headspace for that and want to understand him more. because it’s pretty bad.

And then! yeah. you guessed it. Bernard gets kidnapped again. Chained up next to a BOMB that’s counting down. RIGHT WHEN HE’S WORKING ON HEALING FROM ALMOST BEING SACRIFICED BY A CULT.

And surely this can’t get crazier. He’s almost died twice in the past 6 months. except, remember his parents? In TD:R #7, we really see a little more of his relationship with his parents. He doesn’t live up to their standards, and his dad specifically seems to just want to argue with him. The restaurant they’re at is attacked, and everything goes to shit, and. you know, I think these panels really speak for themselves.

And for the record, when it’s revealed that everyone is seeing their worst fears, Bernard’s parents fears are not about him.

So now Bernard has to deal with that. And we start to see that Bernard is really not as okay as he’s tried to be. He keeps a baseball bat by his door because he’s been kidnapped twice now. And just when he’d likely thought things couldn’t get worse, he heard the Chaos Monsters were back. I can’t imagine he feels safe. He lashes out for the first time since all this has happened and yells at Kate and Tim, because while they’re doing what they feel is necessary to save more people (AND I DONT BLAME THEM AT ALL), Bernard can’t talk about it.

And I will forever be sad and insist that TD:R got cancelled too soon, just before we could get into the really juicy stuff, because things had to be wrapped up pretty quick and this was the only comic Bernard was consistently appearing in. But when Tim is giving himself up to the chaos monsters, Bernard goes out and rallies anyone he knows can help. Things were rushed because there was no more time to flesh out the story the way it could have been, but I’m including these panels just because I love Bernard Audacity Dowd using a fucking flashlight and shadow puppet to call Batman. geeking out for a minute. And then leading the battalion to save Tim with a SLEDGEHAMMER. gay people rule.

So yeah! While I see the vision of how a lot of Bernard’s trauma was meant to be semi-resolved and let him come to peace after saving Tim back, we just didn’t have the time for him to heal properly. I’d give anything to get inside his brain again. UHH IF YOU READ THIS I HOPE YOU LOVE BERNARD NOW and don’t come at me if I left something out, some of my comics aren’t with me rn. Bonus TimBer for the road:

[princeoftheeternalbog]

OP characters reacting to you kissing them and running away (here's part 2) established relationship ish. Feel free to ask for other characters.

ALSO I've definitely seen another creator who did this idea with op characters but I can't remember who so if someone could tell me I would really love to credit them :(. I tried to make mine different but still it's the principal of it.

Slightly suggestive in some parts so mdni.

Luffy

Thinks its a new game like tag but with kisses and it ends up actually becoming one. You'll both wait for the other to become distracted and then you'll strike, planting a kiss and sprinting off around the ship or the island you're docked at. It's not hard to chase after each other because the trails of laughter are so easy to follow and it always ends up with one of you on the floor from a tackle or something similar.

Zoro

Gobsmacked. Genuinely his jaw drops especially if there's other people there and you get away so easily only because of how long it takes his brain to boot back online. Oh but he doesn't let it go. He waits until you're in a similar situation, either talking to someone or doing work and he sneaks up to pull you into a deep, intense kiss that leaves your knees weak. Like he fully puts the moves on you, hand on your lower back, other hand cradling your jaw, hes literally licking into your mouth and then he just disappears for the rest of the day. Asshole.

Sanji

You are not running away from this man. Not in a scary way but he can't do just one short kiss, as soon as you're leaning in his hands settle firm on your hips and that grip is not something you can wiggle out of. You can try to run away but he just laughs at you and pulls you closer to him, ofc he would let go if you actually wanted him to but he knows what you're trying to pull. Says something like "Oh? Trying to run darlin? How sweet." swoon- Just don't even bother, he will always try to win if your affection is involved.

Nami

Honestly thinks nothing of it. A lot of your affection is sweet but quick because yk pirate life. But if you look disappointed from her lack of reaction then she catches on quickly and starts playing along. So sweet even though she can be scary. Oh but don't try to run if she's initiating, like Sanji you aren't going to get out of her grip. If she wants to shower you with affection, she is going to thank you very much. If you do manage to slip away she's surprisingly quick and surprisingly stealthy. Like you'll think you got away and you walk into a room and she drops down from the ceiling like fucking batman.

(maybe not that dramatic but shes good)

Robin

She lets you run away but only because she knows she could summon a mouth to kiss you at any time and in any place so she's content knowing she always wins. Also thinks it's really cute when you try to rile her up like this, she just finds it so endearing and usually ends up playing into it anyways- "My, my, aren't you getting so bold my love". Sometimes will purposefully trip you up while you're doing these antics so you can't get away or so your plan is ruined, absolutely pretends she has no idea what you're talking about.

Usopp

Highly likely he was doing something when it happened. Highly likely he dropped something onto his foot as a result. Yowls like an injured cat and then when his brain catches up it's like steam comes out of his ears. Stands there with his mouth open and pointing at you like you betrayed his entire family. Very funny and very cute. Also a possibility of him smacking you out of fearful instinct in which case he'd probably cry his eyes out and beg for forgiveness. Nami makes it worse by punching him in the face for hitting you. A mess all around if you get him at the wrong time so just be careful.

Ace

Immediately sprinting after you, it's actually a bit scary. But like hey he's not letting you get away with just one measly little peck on the cheek. Absolutely nobody on the crew helps you unless it would be funny, i.e. someone tripping Ace up so he faceplants. If it's near the beginning of your relationship then you likely go back out of concern which he takes as a chance to catch you, but if it's later then you already know this man's antics and you know he wouldn't be injured just from tripping so you use it as an opportunity to get away💪. You still have to kiss it better later though when hes whining to you about how cruel you are for leaving him in the dust(he would do the same).

Izou

Don't bother. As soon as you turn he snatches you by the back of your collar and pulls you onto his lap, proceeds to resume his conversation like nothing is wrong but his arms are firm around your waist and his cheeks and ears are a particularly pretty shade of red. Once his conversation is over and the other person has left, he turns his attention to you with a very pointed look. He's not actually irritated but if he enjoys watching you squirm that's his business. "If you wanted a kiss you should've just asked my love" and then he's practically devouring your mouth. Doesn't care about the other people in the vicinity. Doesn't care that he's smudging his lipstick. Just wants to fluster you more than you flustered him.

Marco

Do you even want to run away from this man lets be real- anyways.

If he's doing work then he just laughs and lets you get away with it, tallys it in his head for later, but if he's free and hes in a good mood then he absolutely plays into it. Will chase after you. Will cheat by using his powers. Its a bit scary but also very attractive, somehow ends with him pinning you in some way (☺️), looks very smug when he wins. Like you'll end up flat on your back, legs trapped under his and his hands restraining yours and he's just grinning- "Oh what a surprise. You were so easy to catch-yoi" Yeah yeah shut up. Absolutely asks what his reward is just to see your shocked face (absolutely asks again later when you two are alone).

Sabo

VILLAIN!!!!!! Sorry only way i can describe how devious and obsessed this man would be. Like Izou he tries to snatch you immediately but you planned for this so you manage to spring out of his grip in time. You falter a bit at his reaction then because he just blinks at you for a while. You start to feel a bit nervous and when he finally grins at you, you definitely feel nervous. "Playing like that are we honey? How about I give you a headstart then?" Evil. You know he's going to catch you. He knows he's going to catch you. He's just giving you false hope but yk hope is hope so you take the chance.

You don't get far. It's not even fair how quickly he catches up to you and gets you underneath him, it takes him barely any effort, not even a strand of hair is out of place. Spends the next 10 minutes kissing you on the floor of the hallway until Koala comes back and promptly drags him back into his office.

[sobbingscripter]

Tags: [mlw][crack][fluff][reader is an asshole][this is their karma for some shit they did in the past]

Includes: Damian Wayne; Bruce Wayne; Dick Grayson

A/n: a lil' drabble to broaden my horizons and see if I should stick to smut :3

"Okay, listen here, Sulu, I don't take orders from you. I take orders from your mother. So if she says I need to keep you safe, best believe, I'm doing my job to the best of my ability."

You're off-putting on your best day.

Alfred and Jason love to call you Damian's karma for him being a massive dick, and Bruce likes to call you.... Well... When Damian's not on his best behaviour.

"Listen, Cobra Kai, you better get your shit straight and listen to Batman." You stare at Damian, your eyes narrowing at him with distaste, upper lip curling in disdain before you look up at Bruce, your expression warm and your eyes fucking sparkle like a supernova.

"Huge fan." You reassure Bruce before looking back at Damian, finding those emerald eyes simmering with barely contained rage and he just about has it when you take two fingers, pointing them at your eyes and then, pointing them at his.

And almost as if to drive in your point (which you definitely do not have), you take a hefty bite of the nearest edible thing to you as you stand in the centre of the kitchen.

The nearest thing being an onion. Freshly peeled.

Your teeth sink into the flesh of the vegetable, and your throat burns but you don't waver, simply retreating back to your assigned bedroom and Jason lets out a whistle, muscular arms crossing over his broad chest.

"I expected her to start tearing up at the taste." Jason comments, taking a bite of the orange in his hand, the fruit already peeled and missing a few bites, which suggests that he didn't even cut it.

"I don't think she can cry." Bruce mutters quietly, before letting a shiver run down his spine and he visibly shudders. "She's intense."

Meanwhile, you're in the en suite of your room, coughing your lungs out your ass and trying not to gag as you feed yourself palmfuls of water from the bathroom sink. The water's clean, clear enough to be drinkable and you rinse your mouth. Your lashes are wet with unshed tears as you allow yourself to sink to the cool bathroom tiles, resting your back against the wall and you wipe the water droplets from your chin, letting out panted breaths.

"Holy shit." You mutter quietly.

Talia had trained you personally, wanting you to be her son's bodyguard when he needed it the most. And she deems him 'needing it the most', as now. When he's been living with his father for about 9 years. When he's 6 foot 2. When he's jacked and a fucking ninja who quite literally, is like...

Have you ever seen that movie? Ninja Assassin?

That's Damian.

Moving organs and shit.

It's barely midnight when Damian clomps into your bedroom, arms folded across his chest and he stares at you from beneath dark lashes, eyes glittering like jewels in a cove as he spits out.

"What do I have to do, to make you leave?"

His expression is tight, eyes narrowing and the muscle in his jaw is wound tighter than... Well a wire. That's wound super tight around a thing.

Damian's fingers tap impatiently on his bicep as he waits for you to answer his question, the fabric of his T-shirt stretching tightly around the muscles of his torso, extending past the waistband of his pants. And he runs his tongue across his teeth, stopping at the sharp point of his canine.

"I'm waiting, vermin."

You scoff.

"Calm down, Beverly Hills Ninja." You watch Damian's jaw tick in annoyance at the nickname.

Somehow, they always seem to get worse. Even when they're... Awful.

"I'm not gonna be here for any longer than you need me to be."

Your voice is as grating to his ears as nails to a chalkboard, but that stupid cadence and the lilt of your tone have his mind wracking for ways to put your stupid mouth to better use.

"I don't need you to be here." Damian grumbles.

"Listen, Kung Fu Hustle," you roll your eyes, readying yourself to go to bed as the back of your head makes contact with the puffed up pillow, the satin pillowcase making you let out a sigh of relief, "I'll tell you what you need."

Bruce would actually rather be in that alley again than work another case with your dumb ass.

Commissioner Gordon's protege, the only officer that somehow seems like a combination of Spencer Reid and Jake Peralta. But more Jake, than anything.

"Come on, Sherlock Homo." You snap your fingers in front of Bruce's cowl-covered face, but you watch as his eyes narrow while he stares down at you. But he doesn't speak, simply glancing back towards the clues laid across the surface of the desk in front of you two.

In the archives of the GCPD building, Bruce and you remain working silently. His wards having taken over his patrol, giving him the time for a physical breather but God, his jaw finds itself clenched tighter than Arthur's fist.

The air smells like musty books and ink, a hint of pine cleaner and you settle into your seat, lifting the clue to your eyes, scanning over the parchment for any kind of spot that could mean something.

"I think we should refer to previous riddles." Bruce hums softly, biceps bulging beneath the Kevlar of his suit, his cape fluttering in the breeze that creeps through rusted vents.

"Or we can use Chat GPT?"

Bruce watches, his expression falling to one of incredulity as he watches you grab your phone from your bag, the device just so...

He's distressed, on your behalf.

15%. A few cracks in your screen guard and that bright notification that says your storage is far too full for your phone to be functioning optimally.

And Bruce watches as you type the riddle into the AI app, and he watches as those dots appear, signalling a response being formulated. And Bruce nearly groans aloud when he sees an ad light up your screen.

And he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration when he watches you screenshot the name of the stupid widget app, saving it for later when you can download it.

"Should we use my phone?"

Bruce's question is unexpected and you crease your brows, shaking your head.

"Nah, I just need to connect to the wifi."

And Bruce wipes his hands over his face, a low groan rumbling in his broad chest before he drops into the seat beside you, and he waits for you.

Each minute seems like a lifetime, and he hears that little beep.

"Did you get an answer?" Bruce questions, his voice tinged with barely contained annoyance, frustration. Almost everything that points to him yanking out his luxurious, inky hair.

"It says I used up my free messages." You purse your lips. "I'm gonna make a new email really quickly."

Half an hour passes before you get an answer. Which is, that there is no answer.

"This...—" Bruce let's out a shaky breath. "Have you ever been told that you're disorganised?"

And you scoff, raising a hand in Bruce's direction to dismiss him.

"Listen, Karate Kid, who went to police academy?" You question Bruce. "Not me, but still. I've still got the badge, American Ninja."

"You're not a legal officer?!"

"License and registration, Mr Wing."

Dick can't believe this.

He's getting a speeding ticket for chasing a fucking criminal on his bike.

"They have my secret identity on them, so I can't give it to you." Dick answers, pulling his bike onto the curb and cutting the engine, and he rests his forearms on the space between the handlebars. Because he just knows this is gonna take a while.

"So you're impersonating right now?"

Dick rolls his eyes behind his mask, and his lips part to protest.

"Listen, officer, I'm in a bit of a hurry and it'd be really nice if you could just... Not do this right now."

Dick's trying to be nice, really. Trying to respect the law and act like a model citizen, like the kind of citizen he'd be happy to protect and serve.

"Well, too bad Britney Allen, justice... Isn't nice. Justice is messy, hard and fast. Like a creampie." And you pull the notebook out of your back pocket, the action of tilting your body just a bit draws Dick's attention to your body.

Perfect hips, only accentuated by those stupid cuffed, cargo pants and that bulky holster belt.

Dick clears his throat.

He seriously cannot be finding you sexy right now.

"So, Twinkle toes, you wanna tell me why you're going 130 in a 80 zone?" You hum, eyes lowered to the notebook in your hands, continuing to scrawl his parking ticket before you glance towards the number plate of the sportbike.

Or more accurately, the lack thereof.

"Oh, Pom Poms," you muse, laughter in your voice as you continue to scrawl, "riding without a number plate? That's an 80 dollar fine."

Rummaging through a hidden compartment, long gloved fingers wrap around a hundred dollar bill before handing it to you. And you pocket it.

"Now what about the fine?"

[skylersprompts]

DC x DP Prompt *30*

If anyone would ask Bruce how he could have known, he would tell them that it is obvious. Phantom - the new part-time member of the Young Justice - who seemed to be forever young and their new engineer Danny Fenton who is in his early twenties have perfectly fitting schedules. When Fenton is working in the Watchtower, Phantom will be unavailable for the Young Justice and vice versa. Also, the pranks started after both of these figures appeared. Of course one could argue that they could just be related or somehow knew each other otherwise, but the pranks that were pulled on all of the mentors of the Young Justice were only possible with Phantom Powers. And because of the new Ghost Shield the young hero wouldn't be able to just fly into the Watchtower and had to use the Zeta-Tube, what would mean that they should be able to look at the logs. But Phantom never entered the Watchtower while the pranks were under way. And as soon as his team really needed him, Fenton would make an excuse to leave work early.

What he wouldn't tell anyone, is that he saw how Fenton had transformed himself into Phantom, shortly before the Flash got up to run for a snack, just to fall down because his ankles had been cuffed together.

And maybe he helped him from time to time, with a well timed question to distract his fellow heros. Because the motive became clear really fast. Everytime someone got pranked, that someone had done something to ignite the wrath of the younger heros.

All of that also meant two things.

First of all, as soon as Danny was at work, Batman would be extra aware of his surroundings. The pranks never worked on him, which meant he had to dodge more attempts for the rest of the day.

And secondly: He should talk to Tim, after he found out how he had put his foot in his mouth this time, since he just saw his spoon move in his coffee mug without anyone's involvement. He just let his (probably salty) coffee go cold, brooding. Maybe he should go home early today and spend some quality time with his son...

[xan-izme]

Double Life 7 (ATSV x reader x Batfam)

Summary: An unwilling partnership is formed between reader and Redhood. Damian wants to know more about his half-sister. And visits New York to seek answers there is only one problem, his father decides to come along.

part 6, part 8

You're in deep shit now. The whole time Jason was at the mansion, he had been eyeing you and giving you dirty looks every moment you spoke. You would glare back.

it was clear to others that you and Jason, were not fond of each other. But no one spoke up about it. Bruce would give Jason a stern look to stop and give you a gentle pat on the back.

And what's worse, Jason brought it onto himself to stay at the mansion to get to know the new member of the family a little better.

You were in your room. Thinking on this whole day and how everything just had to go downhill the moment you got back into action.

You were currently staring at the silver case you got earlier that was on your desk.

Alchemax . . .

You let out a deep sigh and sat on your bed. You felt a small headache come in as you thought about how you were going to get through this. You had to talk to Jason. And get things settled. Make a deal or something.

Suddenly you hear a knock at your door. You quickly hide the case. "Who is it?"

"It's me, you little thief." The voice on the other side of the door was clearly Jason. You frown and march over to the door and opened it. "Jason. . ."

Jason had a smug smirk on his face as you pushed through you to enter your room. "Where's the case." Jason stood by your bed and scanned your room. Taking in the art and pictures. The boombox and vinyl was pretty odd to see.

"Don't know what you're talking about." You let out a small sigh as you crossed your arms and leaned against your door frame. Jason glares at you and went over to your door and closed it shut.

"You know damn well what I mean." He got all up in your face as he had his finger pointed at your chest.

Your frown deepened as you glared back, glancing to his finger and back up to him. Making it clear, you don't like how close he is.

Jason calmed down a little and put distance between you two. "Look, we got off the wrong foot. . . I know your true identity, and you know mine." Jason spoke slowly, making hand movements and keeping eye contact. As if he was speaking to a toddler.

"Let's talk."

You were actually satisfied with this. But you have a feeling you should still be cautious with this one.

"Talk about what?" You leaned off the wall, still keeping your eyes on him.

Jason stayed silent and crossed his own arms. "A deal. You have something I want, I have something you want."

Your eyes narrowed. "What exactly do you have, I would want?"

Jason smirked "Your identity. You know, you're in a different city now, Spider-woman. There's a bigger vigilante out there, that would either put you down, or force you to join him. I have a feeling you don't want both."

You had to process for a second to understand who Jason was talking about, then you realized it. "Batman." You had completely forgotten about the famous batman. So focused on your own personal life. You had taken a risk to go out without thinking you'd run into Batman who has been in the game for years.

"Yup, so. How about we work together for now. Whatever is in the case, seems important. I don't want the old bats to find out about this either, so let's just play nice together and get this over with. I'll keep my mouth shut if you do the same, deal?" Jason extended his hand for a handshake.

You took a moment to think. And after what Jason had said, you realized, you possible have more to lose. You needed this deal more than him.

"Deal." You shook his hand to seal it all.

You let out a small yawn as you exit your room. About to leave for school. Your met with Damian waiting outside of your room, as usual. "Morning, cupcake." You spoke in a joking way. Damian frowns "Don't call me that- your shoes untied." He seemed bothered by your untied shoe.

"I know. It's a choice." You say with a shrug as he followed you down the stairs. Once you and Damian are downstairs, Alfred has already prepared breakfast.

"Morning Alfred smells and looks amazing, per usual." You had a nice smile on for the butler. You truly are grateful for Alfred. He just feels like a person you should respect. He does so much in this big mansion.

"Lady Y/n. Your usual f/f and Coffee-" Alfred paused as he noticed your coffee, he set down was no longer there. "Odd, your coffee." He mumbled a little confused.

Before you could say it was okay for now, Jason came out of nowhere.

"Oh, sorry was the coffee yours?"

Everyone looks over to see Jason, with your coffee mug.

Damian was quick to scold the older about taking your cup of coffee. You deadpan at the whole situation. Jason just smiled and gave you a half ass apology.

"Oops, my bad kiddo.'' Jason ruffled your head and set your empty mug in front of you.

"I'll make you another cup-" Before Alfred could even attempt to take the mug. You shook your head. "It's aight." You just ate your food and dragged Damian to the limo with you. Of course, you didn't leave without catching Jason giving you a mocking smirk.

You and Jason might be teamed up for the moment, but it doesn't mean you two are going to be the best of friends.

Damian has been doing more deep searching on you for a few days now. Trying to take everything in and find out what you're hiding. He hasn't found anything about this Miguel. In fact, no one in your life that he had searched on the Inernet mentions any Miguel.

What's gotten Damian a little more interested, and suspicious is your school records. Before your mother's death, you seemed to have been determined to go into a privet school in Brooklyn. Both you and your cousin seemed to be determined to enroll in the same privet school.

But why this specific school? there were other privet schools more fit for you and your cousin. Closer to New York. So why did you and your cousin pick Alchemax Academy?

"Y/n?" Damian spoke as he stared up at you, you and he were just sitting the bleachers during lunch.

"Hm?" You were still focusing what you had on your laptop, probably one of your assignments.

"That party you're going to for your uncle's promotion, can I come with you?"

You paused and looked over to Damian. Your surprised from this request, but you smiled down at him softly. "Of course, sweets." You pat his head and go back to working on your laptop.

He knows you won't tell him much, and you're not exactly an open book, nor are you easy to read. So, he should get some more info on you a little more on the deeper level if he visits your family.

You were excited to be back in New York again. And see Uncle Jeff and Miles. You missed them so much.

"Okay, let me go over the rules." You were about to explain the rules with Damian. So he makes a good impression on your uncle and aunt. Well, mainly Tia Rio. He's your half brother, and you want to make sure he won't fully mess up.

"Never call the adult by their first names, unless they insist. No talk back, like you usually do. If they offer you more food even when your full, don't refuse, you have no choice in the mater. And please, please don't go into the house with your shoes on. Okay?" You gave Damian a small smile of the basic rules.

"I see. . . may I ask who will be at this party?" He wants to know who his first target should be for conversation. Who he could pull more information from.

"Well, my cousin, aunts and uncles. A few family friends. Nothing too big." You had your back faced to Damian as you were fishing out some clothes that were nice and casual but still nice for the event.

Suddenly, a knock is heard at the door. "Can you get that for me Cupcake?"

Damian frowns as he gave you a glare, you were unbothered by it of course. "I told you to stop calling me that." He crossed his arms a he got off your bed and approached the door to open it up. He's met with the sight of Alfred and Bruce.

"Father." Damian raised a brow, showing his confusion as to why he was at your door. Bruce gave him the same look, wondering why he was even in your room.

"Damian, is Y/n here? What are you doing in her room?" Bruce asked as he attempted to peek into the room. But you heard his voice, and you walked up behind Damian with a greeting smile.

"He's getting ready with me. I'm bringing him along today."

"Oh?" Bruce was shocked to hear this, knowing Damian isn't the type to go to these kinds of things.

"Yup!" You ruffled Damian's hair. Bruce and Alfred couldn't help but soften at how the two of you have gotten along so well.

"Y/n, I was planning on coming along with you. If you don't mind."

You smiled at Bruces offer. "Of course, the more the merrier. Right Cupcake?" You smiled down at Damian, who did not like this idea at all.

[jolalibrary]

9. breath of fresh air

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter nine of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.3k chapter warnings: frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: this one is called jo kicked her feet mid-writing and editing.

prev chapter | series masterlist

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

Baby, where are you?

I’m coming now just needed to get some plants.

If you’re the forest on wheels coming towards me line up somewhere else.

Wow, that's mean, Morales.

I am. But also, that’s a fuck load of plants.

It is and we’re going to have so much fun naming them.

Surrounded by unopened boxes, and paint tins that are due to be put on the wall, you both sit cross-legged on the floor of your soon-to-be office floor.

It's hard to stop it, the smile which spreads across your lips. The scent of fast food flows from your ripped-open bag and his neatly opened one, as you watch him turn his cap backwards and dig a hand into the paper bag as he pulls out a sauce pot.

Of course, he still finds a second to glare at the plant behind you.

“It’s up for debate, but french fries might be the way to my soul.”

Dipping his own into the sauce, he smirks. “What’s the other contender?”

You, you think.

It's there, threaded inside of you. Sewn in now. Stitched so deep into you that he’ll be remembered forever, no matter what.

Meeting his eyes mid-chew, the word you reverbing around your skull. Echoing. Practically marking itself against any surface space it can in there.

“Your mouth.”

Choking, his hand is quick to cover his mouth, eyes alarmed, quickly filling with tears as he continues to hack. Sliding his drink towards him, across the floor of the project that brought him here today.

“You can’t…” he begins, taking another mouthful, “Do that to me.”

Smirking, you grab another handful of fries. “From the gleam in your eyes, I say you like it.”

“I am not gleaming.”

“No? Damn, I’m disappointed.”

Rolling his eyes, he nudges you with his foot—your eyes glancing at the dinosaur-covered socks for the twelfth time since he’s been here.

“Luca has good taste in socks.”

“You’re telling me,” he replies, “I also have Batman ones, some cartoon ones and ones with flowers on.”

Smiling, you continue to chew. “Which ones are your favourite.”

Scrunching up the paper your food came in, you throw it into the bag. Watching him take a final bite of his own as you smirk.

“It’s the flower ones, isn’t it?”

“Definitely the flower ones.”

Laughing, tongue peeking between your teeth, you lean back on your hands, legs outstretched. “Saving them for a special occasion?”

Nodding, he takes another slurp of his drink, feeling his eyes drag up and down your legs. “Thought I could wear them for when I woo you later on this week.”

“Yeah? You want to model your socks for me, Morales.”

“Dinner and a show I heard is the perfect date night.”

Wiping his hands on his napkin, he stares at you—clean hand on your ankle, massaging it.

“You keep doing that, and we won’t be building furniture.”

Groaning, he sighs. All deep, layered with confliction—until he whispers it: after. It’s low, practically dragged through the gravel of his voice by the time it reaches your ear. Heat spreading through your stomach, not able to tear your eyes from him, just thankful that he does when he goes to stand.

A moment of reprieve, a chance to collect yourself.

That is, until he stretches out his hand, sliding yours into it as he pulls you up to stand. For a moment, just paused—staring at him, a tuft of curls poking through under the rim of his hat.

“I told you how handsome you are,” you say, arms sliding around his neck, leaning close—just enough, to press your mouth to his. “Cause you are.”

Biting the edge of his lip, he smirks. “I’ve got a utility knife in my pocket.”

“Oh?”

Brows lifting, grinning, Frankie pulls you closer. “You into that?”

“On you? Fuck yeah.”

Your lips glide over his, tasting the salt from his fries and the onion from his burger. Not caring, not as you hold him close, keeping him flush, deepening it until he clutches your jaw, walking you both back, kicking a box.

“Fuck.”

Almost laughing, you smirk. “We should…”

Tongue swiping over his lip, Frankie nods. Gaze unmoving even as you step back, bending to tidy the wrappers and bags as you glance back periodically.

“What?”

Shaking his head, he shrugs one shoulder, eyes widening as he smiles. “Nothing. Jus’… hurry back.”

It leaves your lips breathlessly, the word sure. It flows through the air to him, before you leave the room, before giddiness swallows and smothers you up. A grin not easily wiped by your knee connecting with the cabinet as you skid into the kitchen. Dousing your hands in cold water, hoping the temperature will touch your cheeks and cool them.

Thinking of him waiting near the checkout—broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his worn

You do. Almost skidding in your kitchen when you throw the trash away, pausing at the sink to wash your hands, before you’re casually walking back. Doing so, just in time to see him slide that knife along the flat-pack furniture, unboxing the drawers—staring at them all crouched wearing a furrowed expression with an IKEA pencil behind his ear.

And you’re glad he doesn’t look up at the doorway, because it gives you a minute, to lean, head resting as your heart skips a step, feeling all large and full and full of happiness. A feeling, one surging up inside of you—full of lightness and truth—swirling around your breath and trying to form into words.

But, then he looks at you. Lifts his chin, the biggest brown eyes smoothing out to look at you—and you’re sure the words are going to rip out of your throat. Forced to greet the air, and burn themselves into it.

I really like you, Frankie.

I really, really do.

Each letter swallowed back, sight dropping to the knife he holds back—an act you’re apparently quite into from the way you feel the heat in your stomach, a little ripple of want starting to stir as you slowly edge your way into the room. Listening, hanging onto his words as he offers suggestions of how the two of you can do this.

It’s why it makes sense, at first, when he asks if you’d begin building the drawers while he begins the carcass. His toolbox he’d brought in with him opening, pulling various tools you’re not sure were listed on the instructions.

It continues to make sense until you realise you began constructing the drawer, incorrectly. A disappointed voice ebbing, beginning to nip. It breeds in doubt as you study the paper again, and again. Mouth opening and promptly shutting as you try to make heads or tails of what should be a very easy thing.

But that means confessing you’re about as hopeless at building as you are at the rest of the DIY project.

Peering at the instructions again, you try not to sigh. Try not to let a heavier exhale escape through your nostrils, and possibly showcase your growing anxiety-brewed annoyance.

Because you hope he’s not having you build drawers because it’s easier. Because he views you as this hopeless thing that can’t be taught. Even if, in some ways, that assumption would be correct. You just hope that it isn’t pity or any other negative connotation that has begun popping into your mind and bursting behind your eyes in sorrowful falling dark-hued confetti.

An increasing need to prove yourself rising, flooding you as though it wishes to drown you. Making it hard to swallow, never mind breathe—eyes glancing down as they begin to burn with worry, with annoyance and a lot of other emotions you’re struggling to handle—

“Hey,” he says, soothing—hand cupping your cheek as you're tilted up from diagrams to his eyes.

The ones that soothe, that calm—that feel like a safe place.

“Hi.”

Slowly smiling, he strokes your skin. A thing you’re not sure you’ll ever tire from. Not ever. Not as long as his eyes remain as kind and full of warmth.

“I was calling out for you.”

“I’m so—“

“Wondered,” he continues, interrupting, burying your apology before it meets land and plants itself, “If you wanted a go at helping me build this bit.”

Swallowing, both the emotions that remain fizzing and the worries, you smile. “You sure? I’m not… this isn’t something I’m good at.”

“That’s why I’m helping. To teach you, right?”

Nodding, you grin when his lips find your forehead, helping you up before grabbing something from his toolbox. If newer, shinier than the one you’d seen him using—a colour as close to the one you’d said was your favourite.

“Did you buy me a tool, Butterscotch?”

Scratching the back of his head, he tries not to blush. A thing you can tell from the way he averts his eyes, and pink creeps up his neck. “Yeah, it was nothing. Just thought it be easier for you to have your own.”

“My own… prodding device?”

Shaking his head, his eyes land on you. “It’s an electric screwdriver.”

“Of course it is, I was testing you.”

Snorting, he grabs a piece of wood, bringing it between the two of you. “I almost believe you.”

You think Harry would hire me even if I know absolutely nothing about hardware or tools?

To annoy me, most probably. You doing okay?

Not really.

They want more tweaks?

Yeah. I don’t mind making the changes, but wish they’d been more clear from the beginning. So I don’t feel like a failure.

You want me to call in half an hour? Can try and make you smile.

You make me smile effortlessly. But no, it’s okay. I’m going to enjoy a shower and have an early night. Sleep off my bad mood and rest my muscles from building all that furniture the other day.

You goof.

A goof who has your toolbox and her own electric tightener.

That will sound so wrong to anyone else.

Especially if I tell them it goes with my bedside power tools.

Are they what I think they are?

Maybe.

Fuck. Put thoughts in my head now.

Do I look hot?

Always. Will you message me in the morning?

Of course, baby. Try not to dream of me.

Impossible, baby.

Just got out of the movies, was able to eat half the popcorn tub before a jump scare made it mysteriously land on the floor.

Do butter-caked fingers have anything to do with it?

No. I believe the leading cause was a mean friend picking a movie that they knew would scare me. The jury is still out on whether I could have saved the popcorn if properly notified of the jump scares.

You both have fun though?

Yes, a lot. Even if I won’t sleep for a week. I’m excited to see you tomorrow. I’ve missed you.

You’ve missed me?

Try not to grin too much, Morales.

Too late for that, Rainy. I've missed you too.

I've missed butter-SCOTCH fingers.

Can tell me how much later, if you want?

Do you want to phone sex with me, Morales? I think I'd rather make you wait till tomorrow when I see you.

Now who's mean.

It’s hard to avoid the smile on your face, even in the fogged-up mirror. Water dripping down your neck, collecting in the towel wrapped around your chest as Frankie presses his lips to your hairline.

“You feelin' clean, baby?”

“I don't think what we just did in your shower could constitute as cleaning, Butterscotch.”

Smirking, skin radiating heat, Frankie tips your chin up, mouth sliding back over yours like he had done when the two of you had stepped under the shower. The intention innocent, until hungry eyes raked over bare skin.

"Robe's on the back of my bedroom door, baby," he whispers, leaving you to finish drying in his bathroom.

As though it’s normal, routine.

Your toothbrush beside his—the products you’d packed in your overnight bag on the side of the counter.

It's a thing that makes your teeth bite down on your lip and your fingers retraced the path he drew against the suds on your skin. Thinking about how the water fell down along his jaw, ran down between your bodies as he hiked your leg up—

You jump when a clatter pulls you to the present. Heart fluttering, body resting against the side of the basin as your breath dances with the steam. Even if he's rooms away, you hear him singing.

It travelling, calling to you.

A soundtrack to you re-dressing as you hang the used towel on the hook, sliding some clean clothes on, before padding out to wrap the robe around you and grab his t-shirt from the bed.

With each step to the kitchen, you're aware of how your body smells of his body wash. A scent you wish your skin only ever smells like now, if it can’t be his aftershave. Just so you could have a piece of him, a thing to go with the texts, phone calls and video chats when the two of you find moments in between the busy.

There's no need for that tonight, not as he’s cooking for you.

Shoulder resting against the door, you find yourself not wanting to announce your arrival. Just take in his frame, how his back is to you, allowing you to watch how his muscles flex along his bare back as he grabs a knife from a drawer.

“You know, if you posted this kind of video on your Instagram, I think you'd beat that one where you're showing people how to paint wood."

Glancing over his shoulder, you hold the top up. His face shifts into gratitude as he drops what's in his hand and takes it from you. Simple, a very nothing thing that his face seems to show the opposite of.

He fidgets uncomfortably, the shyest smile trying to appear. “Shut up.” 

“While you were very informative about preparing the wood before beginning in that video, I think I know how you got one hundred thousand views in a weekend.” 

Smirking, he folds his arms. “Because you watched it on repeat while you missed me?”

“No,” you grin, watching him run his tongue over his teeth to stop himself from smirking. “You like to do a little thot-shot.”

“A what-what?” 

Licking your lips, leaning against the wall, watching his fingers run up and down his bicep, arms still folded. “You wipe your face with the bottom of your t-shirt, Morales. Showing off your… physique.” 

“Mierda.” 

“You look very good. Had to watch it myself a few times, to be sure.”

His eyes dart away, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I mean it,” you add. “You look really good, Frankie.” 

Stepping forward, you kiss his cheek. The heat from it warms your lips as you try to hide your grin. Instead, pulling out a stool from under his island and sliding onto it, elbow on the worktop, you rest your chin. Watching him turn, facing back to the ingredients and pans.

That's when you spot it. The loose curl that has fallen over his forehead as he leans forward. It just hanging there. Slowly beginning to sway as he resumes chopping and slicing.

“What're you making me?”

“Special asado tacos.”

It’s hard to suppress the whimper in the back of your throat as your stomach rumbles, his chin lifting—brow raising as you try to clear your throat.

“Sounds delicious… what makes them special? Is it the chef?”

Smirking, he shakes his head. “It’s a family recipe. So, I hope I don’t fuck it up.”

“I doubt you could, right? It’s in your bones.”

Shrugging, he stares down at some paper—his pinky flattening it, before he brushes the chopped peppers into a pan and grabs something else.

“I don’t make it often.”

“How many times have you?”

Pausing, he doesn’t look up. Just stops his knife over the skin of the vegetable.

“Frankie. Is this the first time you’ve made it?”

“No,” he answers. Quickly, red rising up his neck. “It’s just… the first time I’ve made it for someone.”

Licking your lips, you smile—fingers outstretching over his counter, it cool under your touch. “Oh, you like me, like me.”

Smirking, he continues to chop and dice, shooting glances at you. “Maybe.”

“I think you do.”

The precision he cuts with makes you almost forget your teasing—your own name, even. The quickness of it, the perfect way they’re all cut. It’s enough to make your thighs press, a new competency unlocked it seemed—as though you were both collecting and becoming aware of them all at once.

Distantly, you hear your name. Briefly aware as you flick your gaze up, of the concern etched there—the sudden silence damning.

“Hm?”

Grinning, shaking his head as he slides the chopped food away. “I said, what makes you say that?”

Sighing, all deep—almost soothing, you smile. “Well, you named all my new plants with me.”

“I did do that.”

Nodding, you roll your lips as he uses his little finger to trace down the recipe in front of him.

“And you didn’t judge me for the fact they all needed a name.”

Casting a glance your way, he both frowns and smiles simultaneously. “Baby… I’d… I’d never.”

“I know,” you say, encased in confidence, sitting up straighter, “Because you like me.”

Shrugging, he begins moving around, collecting ingredients—the back of his hand brushing over his forehead. “Maybe you’re on to something.”

Humming, you shift on your stool—watching. Finding it hard not to keep your eyes on him, not as he moves around confidently, capably, sprinkling things in and adding pinches of others.

It isn’t until he seems more content, that things are doing what they’re supposed to, do you slip from the stool. Moving towards him, sliding between him and the worktop as your fingers brush over his cheek—an act so similar to the shower, before his hand slid between your thighs and made you struggle to stand.

“I like you too,” you whisper.

His eyebrows raise at the suggestion, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Is that so?” he asks. “Well, guess if we both like one another, that means I am allowed to ask something…”

Sucking in air through your teeth, you scrunch your nose. “I don't know, do you think you're allowed?”

Pinching your side softly, he smiles. “I wanted to ask... what we are, what are we?”

Narrowing your eyes, you roll your lips, fingers continuing to twist his curls around your nails. “What do you want me to be?”

Shrugging, he smiles—eyes slowly crinkling, all slow in the way they eventually narrow, mouth parting, basking you in human-made sunshine.

“You want me to be yours?”

He groans, it vibrating through you, hips rolling against his as he presses you to the counter. Body somehow humming, even after earlier.

“Want to be mine, Francisco?”

His hand grasps your hip more intently. “More than anything.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Nodding, you tug him closer too, bodies flush, little space between the two of you. “All yours.”

His nose slides against your cheek, before his forehead rests on yours. His eyes almost blend into one large brown oasis—almost.

“Now I’m your girlfriend, do I get extra privileges?”

Frowning, he steps to the side, stirring the cooking food—one hand on your hip, as though not wanting you to move.

“You know, show me how to use your power tools?”

Snorting, he rolls his eyes. “You say mine like others are different.”

Smirking, looking at him with the most innocent eyes you can fake, taking his hand in yours. “They’re different from mine.” Frowning, he stares for a second, seemingly baffled. “Mine aren’t used to build things, rather… make legs shake and make me cry out your name.”

You hear his swallow, as well as see it.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he lies, stirring again. “Jus... Y’just incredible.”

Picking up a piece of pepper, you smile—all wicked. “Oh, I know. And aren’t you lucky I’m yours?”

THEY'RE BACK, GOD I'VE MISSED THEM. next week, we enter a spicy chapter (muhaha) and a nice little announcement about them too.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

[arrowmaker15]

(Red Robin trying to get a truth serumed Spoiler out of a warehouse)

Red Robin: One foot in front of the other.

Spoiler, dreamily: Jay has such pretty eyes. An amazing mix of blue and green...

Red Robin: Why did I have to be the one sent to get you on truth serum? I had him last time too.

Spoiler, ignoring him: He's so hot when he's threatening to break people's bones. I just wanna jump him on the street.

Red Robin: For the love of God you two are needy.

Spoiler: I think I wanna marry him. Have his children. They'd be adorably badass. Oh! What if they come out with that white piece in their hair that he has?

Red Robin: I think we're going to ban you two from going to shady warehouses alone. Because if you two keep getting dosed with truth serum, I'll break Batman's no kill rule.

Spoiler: I love him so much. And he's so good at-

Red Robin, putting a gag in her mouth: Talk later. Please, for the love of God, talk later when I *don't* have you.

[tsuvvy]

"I thought you wanted a nemesis.."

Pairing: Harley Quinn x platonic batgirl y/n

Summary: Harley Quinn (from her series show) meets Batgirl (y/n), who tries to be her nemesis much like Damian did

Warning: The only name used for you is Batgirl

A/n: I remember finding another person's post that inspired this, but it was a while ago, and I never put a link or anything to it anywhere. So if you are a maker of anything similar pls know I'm not trying to copy without giving credit. I just couldn't find your post 😭🙏

Clayface yelled, catching the attention of Harley. When she turned around, she watched Clayface fall into two, his top half sliding off of his bottom and landing on the floor with a splat. Behind him stood Batgirl with a pretty long dagger.

"Aw, c'mon!" Harley groaned, grabbing her bat from her bag as she blocked a hit from Batgirl. "I'm not gonna fight another kid!" She yelled. Batgirl raised her foot, kicking Harley in the stomach and sending her backwards.

"I thought you wanted a nemesis." Batgirl spoke bluntly.

"Not a kid!" She yelled, "I've already made that clear with Robin! Don't you Batman sidekicks talk?" Harley spoke as she stood up, waving her hand to emphasize what she was saying.

"Yeah, Robin won't stop talking about how you get on his nerves.." Batgirl scratched at her chin as she spoke awkwardly. "Oh! I also wanted to say, your hair is really pretty!"

Harley's mouth fell agape, "really kid? Don't think complimenting me is gonna get you on my nemesis side or whatever.." She crossed her arms. "Let's go, Clayface!" Harley said, turning to walk out at the guy reformed next to her.

"And also!" Harley turned back around to face Batgirl, "I think it's really cool how you finally stood up to the Joker, he was never nice to you.."

Harley stood there for a second before smiling softly. "Thanks, kid."

[lambsouvlaki]

Rule of Threes

Jason and Bruce, after the Batarang incident. 1k words. TW: suicidal thoughts, guns, descriptions of wounds

Jason, his neck stitched up and bandaged, sat at the foot of his own grave. 

Gotham was merely cloudy today. The grass around him had grown thick, and was only a touch soggy from the night’s dew. The sun was rising, somewhere, but it wouldn’t pierce the band of smog that lined the horizon for another hour. The light had a dull brown tint to it. 

He sat with his legs crossed. The stone angel wept over the tombstone and the empty grave. How dramatic. It hadn’t been maintained over the last few months and mold crept up the sides of the stone.

Jason imagined a little bird in red and green sitting next to him. Blood splattered, dusty with the debris of a recent explosion.

Once was a fluke. Twice was a coincidence. It would take three to be a pattern.

He traced the bandage on his throat. 

Robin looked at him with a frown. He couldn’t speak. Of course he couldn’t, fatal smoke inhalation did that to a person. 

Jason swallowed through the pain in his own throat. He could still speak but he was trying not to to avoid agitating the wounds. 

He wasn’t even mad. That was the deal. He issued the ultimatum.

Him or the Joker. He didn’t… he didn’t really expect Bruce to go for it. He had no plans for a world with a dead Joker in it. He just wanted to see. And now he did. 

Jason snapped off a couple of grass stems. The green smeared on his glove. 

Joker was back in Arkham. Probably giggling up a storm by now, maybe he even treated himself to a whimsical murder or two. Batman was back on patrol. There was barely a hiccup in operations. At least this time there was no ambiguity. Bruce had chosen a thousand times before but now he had lost the shroud of plausible deniability. Jason ripped it away and made him dip his hands in the blood he was responsible for spilling.

Jason’s blood. Finally put to good use. It justified his existence for that round at least.

He ripped up a chunk of grass, roots and all. 

Why was he still alive? There was nothing left. 

The kid leaned against him. He could just about feel the warmth of a body freshly robbed of life. The kid let out an exasperated breath and nodded at Sheila’s grave, next door to his own. 

Jason hummed. “Sorry, kid, it's a nice idea but I’m fresh out of parents to die for.”

Robin whacked his arm. 

He smiled. His neck stung. 

Why the hell was he alive. 

“The problem with my surviving, you see, is that it lets Bruce off easy,” he said, letting the pain radiate up through his neck to his jaw and sinuses. “He gets to choose murder, but if the victim survives it doesn’t count. …Then again the dead are easy to ignore. Recontextualise into something more convenient.”

He left the grass in peace, and reached for his gun. He examined it in the grimy light. “Maybe it doesn’t matter,” he muttered.

Don’t, the kid’s single remaining eye seemed to say. 

“Why not? Everyone else got a turn.”

The kid just looked tired. The dirty tear tracks down his face were long dried. His right eye was swollen shut, the left was bloodshot. 

Jason’s finger tapped the trigger guard. He didn’t want to do it in front of the kid. 

Stupid. The kid had seen worse. Been through worse. What other escape was there from this game for three? He tapped the mouth of the barrel under his chin. 

A lot of sayings about threes, now that he thought about it. 

The rule of threes. 

Third time’s the charm. 

Three strikes and you’re out.

“Don’t.”

Three’s a crowd, he thought, lips flattening. The kid’s shoulders sagged.

“I’m just following your cue here, Bruce,” Jason said. His voice was raspy now he was pitching it for an audience beyond the imaginary. He turned his head, holding the gun loosely. 

Bruce stood behind him, dressed like a normal man, and standing several yards away. All the way up there with the living, even if he did look like something Death forgot to collect while doing the rounds. It was nice they had so much in common. 

He stepped closer. 

“Nu-uh.” Jason got up.  

The kid planted himself between them, staring up at Bruce defiantly. Aw. 

Bruce stopped. 

The kid was right in front of him, arms crossed. Jason looked at the horrible burned remains of his back. 

Three’s a crowd, indeed. 

“Jason–”

“We’ve been through this already. No take backs.”

Maybe this time it would stick.

Maybe it wouldn’t. 

Once a fluke, twice coincidence, thrice… 

Bruce looked between him and the gun. His expression was so damn aggravated it should have been funny. But Jason was tired. His neck hurt. He should still be dead, dammit. 

“Jason, listen to me,” Bruce started. 

“No.”

“Do you want me to beg?” he demanded. “It didn’t stop you last time.”

“Didn’t stop you either.”

His jaw ticked. All that tension, his dentist must weep over it. 

Bruce’s arm dropped. “What do you want?”

“This is old ground, Bruce, I don’t know why you’re expecting new information. You only get to keep the one of us.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way.”

Jason snorted and gave his neck a clap. His vision blacked out with pain for a second. When it came back Bruce was staring at him with his face frozen. Maybe it was horror. Maybe it was heartbreak. But probably not. 

The kid looked back at him, so tired.

He supposed this looked different from Bruce’s perspective: the grave was behind Jason, Robin beyond his grasp. A monster in the way. 

He was kidding himself. The grave was empty. 

But the kid wasn’t in front of him either. 

There were only two people in this graveyard. 

“He’s not worth it,” Bruce said quietly. 

“No.” Jason lowered the gun. “You’re not worth it.”

He threw it at Bruce’s feet. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked away.

[impyssadobsessions]

DPXDC FIC: RAISING PHANTOM CHPT 12

This a double/triple length chapter ;3. Took me FOREVER. Sorry ;3 Raising Phantom (40084 words) by Imp_y Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Danny Phantom Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton, Danny Fenton & Jason Todd, Jazz Fenton & Jason Todd Characters: Danny Fenton, Jazz Fenton, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Batfamily Members, Barbara Gordon, Sam Manson, Tucker Foley, Vlad Masters, Damian Wayne, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Duke Thomas, Joker (DCU) Additional Tags: Family, Age Regression/De-Aging, Sexual Harrassment, she got saved before anything happen, Fun, Chaotic Batfamily (DCU), Wayne Gala (DCU), fake implied sensitive themes, Art, dpxdc, uwu faces are a thing, no beta we die like danny, Action, Comedy, Suspense, Angst, Danny Fenton Needs A Hug, Jazz Fenton Needs A Hug, Explosives, Gun Violence, Child Danny Fenton, mention blood and injury, Trauma

EXCERPT below

“ There we go.” Jazz patted her leg, flinching instantly. She had used her body weight to break the pipe off the wall and tied it to her leg with the rope that had previously tied her to the chair. It wasn't the best makeshift splint, but it'll do. She let out a breath, then pulled herself up to her feet using the pipes still fixed well onto the wall, hoping they wouldn't break. It hurt a lot, at first, but slowly grew dull when she became sturdy on her feet. She balanced herself, mostly putting weight onto her good foot, before eyeing her surroundings. The Joker still lay flat on the floor. The chair legs had hit him square between the eyes. Maybe if she shot chairs instead of lasers, she would have been more helpful to Danny when he was fighting ghosts. Not that it mattered now. An exit-she needed to find one, but first. Her eyes went from the door, to the blinking lights, and down to the Joker's trousers. Her face scrunched up. The remote. Whether it actually did anything or not was up in the air- but... if it did. She had to have it so the Joker couldn't blow up the place before she could escape. She hobbled over to the Joker carefully, kneeling down on her good leg. She eyed him for a moment. His tongue hung out the side of his mouth, head hung back. His body was still with only his chest falling and rising. Make this quick. She reached into his pants pocket. Gently, she felt around for the remote with her fingers, trying to avoid hitting any buttons, and then carefully slid it out. She let out a sigh of relief as she glanced over the remote. Good. Now to- She screamed when her wrist was suddenly grabbed and pulled away from her, making her fall onto her hip. “A pick-pocket too?” Joker's voice darkly chuckled, “What a perfect little bat bait, aren't you?” She pulled back at Joker's grip, but he had already slammed her hand into the ground. Her eyes widened as Joker rolled on top of her. She pulled back her knee to keep him from being able to sit on her and kicked him as hard as she could. The Joker flung backward onto the ground. Jazz scrambled to get onto her feet, the remote still in her hand. When she noticed the Joker getting back up, at about the same time as her, she quickly reached for the nearest piece of furniture- the table. She put all her weight into slinging it at the Joker, making him stumble back. She bolted for the door, using her body weight to bust it open. She heard the Joker growl darkly before the door slammed behind her.

[owlwithanapple]

A Thief ❤️‍🔥👄

Content : Adult Content

Characters : Tim Drake x Y/N

You are a thief, and this time the commission is a diamond sapphire with a swan pattern. The location is a villa somewhere in Gotham City, where a grand masked ball is held. You change into a gorgeous and sexy evening dress, a butterfly pattern mask, and disguise yourself as an elegant and sexy female artist VIP to sneak in and steal it.

While the owner of the villa is entertaining others, you take this opportunity to leave the hall and go to the upstairs room. After searching several rooms without finding anything, you entered another and continue. You find something in the cabinet, and suddenly a cool breeze blows from behind. You look back and see a figure standing at the window.

"Good evening, beautiful lady. Are you a thief? If so, you are so beautiful that even the butterfly mask cannot hide your beauty. I am reluctant to arrest you." That arrogant and sarcastic tone, that tight red suit, Batman's crime-fighting partner, Red Robin.

You acted helpless, raised your hands in a gesture of surrender and walked around with ease. The sound of my high heels came from the floor of the room. "Oh no. Please don't arrest me, I am just a poor girl who is harmless and lost. I want to find a bathroom, but the place is too big."

"You lie without a draft? You're really not smart, even you have a very...smart face. Are you too smooth and...professional? Tell the truth, or I'll knock your pretty head out." He crossed arms under chest, leaned back against the wall, and raised his chin. Through the mask on his eyes, you can feel that he is staring at your every move.

"Too smart are not popular, Little Red. Relax, I have no bad intentions, I just come to find something and go back. What about you? You don't look like an invited VIP here..." You sat on the sofa, put hands on the armrests, crossed your right foot on your left. You lifted your hair and looked at him without fear.

He tilted head, chuckled shook his head, he breathed a sigh of relief and raised his head again. He walked towards you, put hands on your hands and squeezed them gently, leaned down close to your face and breathed into your mask, a smile on his mouth "Unfortunately, I have to work today. I heard that a bad guy will use a swan-patterned diamond sapphire as the chip to activate the bomb."

Analyzing from the information he said, your work is related. Your client insisted taking back the sapphire to detonate the bomb, and Red Robin came to retrieve it to prevent it from being stolen and prevent opportunities. Your right leg stretched out between Red Robin's thighs and moved it up down, you held his hands, interlocking your fingers.

You bit your lower lip teasingly, you leaned closer to his face. You can feel his body temperature and breathing at close range, in the tense and quiet atmosphere, your heartbeat seems particularly loud and clear. "I know what you want to do, you want to take this opportunity to flirt me. But... I don't like sapphires, but if you give it to me, I will accept it as a gift."

He has no resistance to your actions, but enjoys your confidence and teasing. He held your hand tightly and pulled you up from the sofa, his left hand around your small waist, and hooked your chin with his right hand, so that the two of you looked at each other. "I also want to give you one, but this one is too dangerous. I have to find it first. Ah, let me reveal another piece of information. Your client was arrested by Batman."

As soon as heard this information, immediately noticed something wrong. Your hands trembled and eyes did not move away from his gaze. You took a breath and took the initiative to get close to him, pressing your chest against his, and your right foot between his thighs. "That's a pity. I can't get my reward. How are you going to compensate me?"

"That bad guy did a lot of bad things, but the traces of crimes still can't escape us. And you, I happened to find your photo in his phone. I didn't expect that such a beautiful thief. I really hope you can steal my heart." He moved closer to your face and touched your nose teasingly with his nose, as if he was showing you an intimate and coquettish way.

You chuckled, nodded. Red Robin made you laugh. After you licked lips, your turn to touch his nose. You told him with a cute tone and intimate contact, "You are so naughty, be careful that I really stole your heart. But... you have other intentions, right?"

"Smart, you are not a single-celled organism. It's very simple. Help me find the things, and you can name the price for the reward. Don't doubt it, I am entrusting you through formal and the name of Red Robin." He let go of your body walked towards the door. He leaned there and stamped feet waiting for your reply.

You raised eyebrows pricked up your ears to hear his words. He was so dared to entrust you with this. Since he makes a suggestion, like a star falling from the sky. You walked over pulled him to you to teased him, "My standard is very high, I am afraid you can't afford it. I don't accept installments, and body as collateral."

He reached out to the hand that you pulled him, tracing your wrist to tease you, then intertwined your fingers. He pressed you against the door, and blocked you on the other side with other hand to prevent you slipping away. "I believe I can afford it, and it's okay if you want to be willful. How about it?"

"Since Red Robin has begged me so hard, how can I refuse? I don't want to make you cry, lest you go to find Batman to complain. As for the reward, I'll tell you when I think of it." I blew him a kiss and winked at him in return. In fact, you were very nervous secretly, but didn't resist the intimacy and intense atmosphere he brought.

He smirked. He knew that the person met for the first time was not trustworthy, but he dared to give it a try, especially someone like you. His confidence was not broken. On the contrary, many ideas flashed in his smart mind. He also blew you a kiss in return. He loosened our intertwined hands then ran his fingers down your palm, feeling a flash of lightning passing through "Very good, deal, beautiful Miss Thief."

The villa is full of joy and romance. You and Red Robin searched every corner of the second floor but couldn't find it. You two decided to split up and expand the search. When you returned to the hall, you found that the pendant on the chest of the villa owner was what you two wanted to find.

You had no choice but to go all out. You used your trick and seductive movements to attract the villa owner's attention. You passed by him from behind and gently stroked his left shoulder, then whispered softly in his ear. He showed a lewd smile, and without hesitation stretched out his hand that couldn't suppress his desire to touch your waist and thighs.

At this time, Red Robin noticed the owner of the villa had let down his guard, immediately used hacking methods to turn off all the lights. The next moment, there was a panicked sound in the hall, you took this opportunity to snatch it. When you came to the roof, you saw Red Robin talking to Batman through the communicator. You hugged him from behind and buried your face in his back.

"Busy? Little Red." You felt that he was frightened by the sudden hug, you giggled and let go of him. Suddenly, he grabbed your hand and looked back at you through his shoulder, with a smirk on the corner of his mouth.

"Red, what's the situation over there?" Batman's voice came from the communicator.

"The situation is stable, I'll contact you later."

He cut off the communicator, immediately grabbed your hand and spun it around to pull you into his arms, burying his face in your neck and gently kissing, his hot breath coming out. He picked you up with one hand, you put your hands around his neck. He took out the grapple gun fired it into the distance, taking you away from the roof.

He went in the direction you pointed, after a while you both landed on the balcony of your apartment. He walked inside without putting you down, enjoying the feeling of holding you in his arms with one hand. You took out the sapphire threw it into the air and caught it back in your hand. You curled lips and showed it to him. He nodded as if he was very satisfied, and he left a kiss on your forehead as a reward.

He put you on the ground and helped you stand steadily. He stretched out his hand to ask you for the sapphire pendant. At that moment, you clenched it and held it in the air, stepped back a few steps playfully. You showed a wicked smile, "Haha, how can it be so easy to give it to you? I won't give it to you until I get paid. Little Red."

"Hahaha, oh right. I forgot the super high standard of reward. Tell me what you want, I'm listening." He crossed his hands on his chest walked towards you confidently step by step, his face very close to you, hugged your waist with both hands and pulled you close to his chest.

You couldn't help but giggle and pout, used fingers to tickle his chin to tease him. He subconsciously grabbed your hand, his eyes revealed a hint of desire, and gently bit your thumb to leave a tooth mark, which incited the hot emotions in your heart. You swallowed saliva and tried to calm yourself down, not to be led by him, reminded yourself that it was for the benefit of each other.

"Then... the reward is I want to see your true face and know your name. I want to know the other side of Red Robin." You stroked his cheek with both hands, your thumbs brushed across his lower lip, and stared at him, as if you were begging for a little hope.

You could feel he was hesitant at first, hands around your waist trembled slightly for a moment, then moved from your waist to your cheek. He lifted your butterfly mask to reveal your true face, and smiled said something provocative, "Miss Thief, you are really beautiful, I really want to plug those sweet lips. I wonder if you are willing?"

Without hesitation, your arms wrapped around his neck and pressed your body against his chest. You stroked his cheek gently while your gaze was on his face. His arms instinctually move to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer.

He leans into your touch, his eyes closing briefly at the feel of your fingertips against his cheek. He opens his eyes again, his gaze locking with yours. Then he took off his mask and threw it on the floor, and you could see his true face.

Without hesitation, you leaned close to his face and kissed his lips. his breath catching in his throat as you press a kiss against his lips. The heat of your skin against his body, the feeling of your heartbeat, it's all so incredibly intimate and arousing.

He swallows hard, his mind filled with thoughts and desires that he can barely contain. He lets out a soft, breathless groan, his body responding instantly to your kiss. He returns the kiss with equal passion, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

He pulls you closer, his tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting you, claiming you. He was supposed to be in control, to finished his task. But you make him lose himself to you. But you've flipped it all around, and he loves it.

He matches your passion with his own, his hands roaming over your skin, his touch both rough and gentle at the same time. You're pushing all his buttons, stoking the fire that's been burning within him since the moment he first saw you.

He kisses you deeper, his mind consumed by the sensation of your body against his, your taste, your touch. He chuckled softly, his eyes dark with desire as he looks down at you. He moves closer, his body pressed flush against yours, the heat between you nearly unbearable.

He held your hips picked you up with his hands, your legs clamped around his waist. The two of you indulged in the collision of passion and romance. He kicked open your bedroom door and put you down on the bed, his body pressed on you. He kissed you on the lips several times passionately, tongues entangled together, and hot gasps sounded.

He pulls you closer, his hand trailing down your spine, tracing along your skin. You unbuttoned your evening dress, revealing your naked skin. He unbuttoned his Red Robin suit and untility belt, and he leaned down to entangle with you passionately again.

He kisses your collarbone and slowly moves down to between your breasts. He draws circles on your breasts with his fingers and teases your nipples, and you moan shyly. His mouth is licking and sucking it, and his tongue is constantly rubbing them. The senses of your body are excited like an electric shock.

The feeling of your warm skin against his cheek, the scent of your body filling his senses, was a heady intoxicant, stirring a primal need within him. He nuzzled your breast, his tongue gently licking your skin, his grip on you firm and possessive.

His fingers running along the inside of your thighs, rubbing and pressing your wet clitoris. After that, he slowly inserted a finger and thrust it in and out. When he pulled hand back, he licked your love juice and smiled with satisfaction.

This time he inserted two fingers, he hooked fingertips to your most sensitive part and directly reached orgasm. The feeling of being fucked by his fingers was so good that you stroked his strong chest muscles, tilted your head back and arched your body, pinched your toes again and again.

He spread your legs and kissed your sweet part, then took out his hard cock and rubbed it around, finding the right position and thrusting it into your body. At that moment, you clutched the bed sheet and leaned back to moan loudly. You could feel his thick, hard, and hot thing colliding passionately and actively inside your body.

He adjusted the angle lifted your legs up and pressed them on his shoulders. He took a deep breath, sweat appeared on his skin, and his cheeks flushed. He pinched your breasts with his rough hands, and his fingers kept twisting your nipples to tease you. He leaned over to lick and kiss your neck, and his waist kept hitting your lower body.

When he has reached his climax, he pulls his cock out. He sits on the bed motions you to come over. You want to sit on his thighs. You reach out to touch his hot cock and aim it at your part and sit down. The next moment you straighten your back because it is too deep inside hits your sensitive spot.

He holds your hips to support you. He straightens back and moves his waist to make his cock hit you continuously inside you. You hug him tightly to bury face in his neck to kiss and moan loudly, feeling him constantly releasing himself inside you, and the pace gradually speeds up.

His body trembled feels like electric shock. You felt a hot liquid inside, you were so weak that couldn't stand up. After he was satisfied, breathed a sigh of relief and picked you up and took you to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and let the water flow to the part below your waist. He used two fingers to clean your private parts for you, and let the love liquid in your body come out, so that you can feel more comfortable.

"Take the pendant, I received your reward." You tell him after he cleaned you up, you sat on the toilet and stared at his handsome face and body.

He turned off the shower to stop the water from flowing. He turned his head to look at you and smiled. You were startled because he suddenly approached you and picked you up again and took you out of the bathroom. "Hm... Thank you, Miss Thief. I'm glad to make a deal with you."

You opened the closet and put on a set of pajamas, while he put on the Red Robin suit. He reached out from behind and hugged your waist tightly, buried his face in your neck and kissed you once, and whispered in your ear, "Miss Thief, I'm satisfied. Listen to my advice, don't be a thief anymore."

You shuddered and looked back at his face, "Huh? What's wrong, why are you talking about this suddenly?"

He laughed softly and rubbed your neck and gently pinched your abdomen, "You stole Red Robin's heart, aren't you satisfied?"

"Hahaha. Oh, really? So great Red Robin, can you tell me your name?" You turned your head away and kissed his forehead.

He smiled and closed his eyes. If you look closely, you can see that his eyelashes are so long and beautiful. When he opened eyes looked into your eyes again, he smiled, "Tim. Tim Drake. Can I come to see you again?"

You giggled and kept scratching his hair playfully. You put the sapphire pendant with a chip that you just stole into his palm and said, "Sure. Bring some clothes to change next time. Your suit is hard to take off."

"Okay, okay. I will. Then...see you next time. Miss Thief." He pinched your nose and laughed loudly, then let go of you, put the things into his belt, walked to the balcony, took out the grapple gun and prepared to fire it. You quickly chased after him, grabbed his cloak, and held his cheek to give him a passionate kiss as a goodbye.

You stopped kissing and stroked his cheek. He was indeed shocked by your sudden kiss but he soon calmed down. He hugged you and smelled your scent to remember you. You patted his back to comfort him and said, "My name is Y/N. Looking forward to seeing you next time, Tim."

Time flew by for a few weeks. The woman thief in Gotham City disappeared like bubbles without a trace. No trace or shadow remained. Even without the

thieves, life in the city was as chaotic as usual. Batman and his sidekick were busy fighting crime.

And you returned to your life, no longer living the life of a thief. You were more involved in ordinary life, working as a barista in a cafe, facing all kinds of customers every day, just like when you were a chivalrous thief and met strange clients.

The door opened and the bell rang. You were wiping the cup with a rag at the counter, and then a man leaned on the counter with both hands and stared at you. He chuckled and said, "Scarf and coffee, this look suits you very well."

You put the cup and rag aside, and looked at him when you heard a familiar voice. You couldn't help laughing out loud. You wiped the tears of joy from the corners of your eyes and walked forward. "Hahaha, that stinky mouth is really annoying. But...hi, Tim."

"Hi. My thief." He held your hand tightly and stroked it gently with his thumb.

The End

Like and Repost to motivate me🔥

Previous

AO3 : owlwithanapple

[galaxymagitech]

Hi hello!! For the fanfic snippet thing, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this bit of Olive Branch! Especially what's running through Bruce's head at the moment.

---

“I’m not scared of you,” Jason says. It’s very much a lie, and he shouldn’t have said it. After all, Bruce already knew he was angry, but now Jason brought in the idea of fear. And he knows Bruce caught the lie.

Bruce watches him, the bottom of his mouth drawn in like he has something right on the tip of his tongue.

“Spit it out.”

“Your…your scar.”

Jason laughs nervously. “I have a lot of those.”

“On your neck, Jason. The one on your neck.” Immediately, Jason’s hand clamps down on the side of his throat, as if trying to staunch the bleeding. “Was that me?”

Jason doesn’t trust himself to answer.

“It was an accident,” Bruce lies, because that has to be a lie, right? “You know it was an accident, right? I was compromised. I got distracted. It was an accident.”

Jason knows that it wasn’t. Bruce’s aim couldn’t have been that far off. He ran the angles in his mind a thousand times, even hacked into the security cams. Watched it over and over and over and over and over again until it was burned into his memory. The Joker moved to the left, throwing Jason slightly to the right. The Batarang flew past his head on the right, too far from any target for Bruce to have been going for a direct shot. And the rebound…the rebound hit Jason across his neck, tearing a gash from the back left to the front left. If Jason hadn’t been thrown sideways, it would have hit him in the back of his neck and with the force of the Batarang— “Okay,” Jason lies right back, “I believe you.”

“You don’t,” Bruce says, voice hollow. “Jason, I was aiming for the gun. It was an accident. I swear—”

“I believe you,” Jason repeats. It’s all he can really do. Batman doesn’t miss. Batman certainly doesn’t miss as wildly as Bruce is claiming he did. Bruce doesn’t care enough to have been that badly out of it. “Can we please focus?” He rasps out the words, mouth suddenly dry. He takes a sip of the coffee, hiding his face behind the mug, because apparently it’s safe. Probably safe. Maybe Jason gave Bruce the idea and he slipped something into it while Jason was out of it. He forces himself to take a sip of the coffee anyway. He’s fucking pathetic. If Bruce wanted to capture him right now, he could do it easily.

Thank you! I loved writing this fic so I’m super excited to talk about it!

So this is near the end of Olive Branch, where Jason post-Batarang agrees to meet with Bruce for what he thinks is basically a negotiated surrender. Bruce, on the other hand, thinks he’s meeting in a cafe with his son to try to recover their relationship. And he has no idea how much he freaked Jason out with the batarang incident.

Shortly prior to this, Jason had a panic attack because he thought Bruce put something in his drink. Depending on your version of canon, Bruce has trauma related to this, so that’s already like a “my son thinks I’m a monster” moment. Add onto that the fact that Jason just revealed that he only thinks this is a negotiation…

Well, Bruce is crushed. He genuinely thought that after their confrontation, Jason had calmed down and was ready to just have a conversation. Bruce misses him so much—he was desperate to talk to Jason, to the point where he tried not to even talk about Jason’s killing and already made a huge concession shortly before the panic attack.

At this point, Bruce has realized Jason hates him and is only here for business. And he doesn’t understand, but…he knows he can put his foot in his mouth and doesn’t want to spook Jason off, so he offers to talk through an intermediary. If he ruins this now, he could lose his chance to ever talk to Jason again. But if he backs away, then maybe he can have Jason home again, sometime in the future.

“I’m not scared of you,” Jason says. It’s very much a lie, and he shouldn’t have said it. After all, Bruce already knew he was angry, but now Jason brought in the idea of fear. And he knows Bruce caught the lie.

Jason’s reasoning, while incredibly unreliable throughout this fic, is actually spot on here. Bruce had been trying to figure out what was going on in Jason’s head—if he was still so angry, why’s he willing to negotiate? But if he’s not angry, then why is he assuming such terrible things of Bruce?

And then Jason lies about not being scared of Bruce and the question becomes: Why would he think Bruce would hurt him?

(I imagine that Bruce has watched footage of the confrontation over and over again. He knows he hit Jason with the batarang, but due to the angles, he doesn’t know exactly where he hit, how bad it was, etc. All he knows is that he threw it and then Jason fell to the ground, bleeding. He’s been telling himself that it must’ve just grazed Jason, that he can’t have hurt him thatbadly because he seems fine, right?)

Bruce watches him, the bottom of his mouth drawn in like he has something right on the tip of his tongue. “Spit it out.” “Your…your scar.” Jason laughs nervously. “I have a lot of those.” “On your neck, Jason. The one on your neck.” Immediately, Jason’s hand clamps down on the side of his throat, as if trying to staunch the bleeding. “Was that me?”

Bruce had been wondering this since he spotted the scar, but only now does he allow himself to actually consider the possibility. He really doesn’t want to ask it. If you’re working with a live bomb that could go off at any moment, you don’t want to poke it. And he doesn't want to think about what it would mean if the answer is "yes," because a cut there deep enough to scar that badly could easily have been lethal. But he also has to know how badly he hurt his son.

(The second Jason deflects, Bruce knows.)

Jason doesn’t trust himself to answer. “It was an accident,” Bruce lies, because that has to be a lie, right? “You know it was an accident, right? I was compromised. I got distracted. It was an accident.”

Bruce isn’t actually lying here. (In my intent—obviously others can interpret the fic how they want.) But what he’s saying is extremely unbelievable because:

Jason knows that it wasn’t. Bruce’s aim couldn’t have been that far off. He ran the angles in his mind a thousand times, even hacked into the security cams. Watched it over and over and over and over and over again until it was burned into his memory. The Joker moved to the left, throwing Jason slightly to the right. The Batarang flew past his head on the right, too far from any target for Bruce to have been going for a direct shot. And the rebound…the rebound hit Jason across his neck, tearing a gash from the back left to the front left. If Jason hadn’t been thrown sideways, it would have hit him in the back of his neck and with the force of the Batarang— “Okay,” Jason lies right back, “I believe you.”

I actually did look at the angles a while ago while trying to determine the feasibility that this was an accident. It looks like Jason does get thrown to the right, and the batarang still misses him on the first pass, only hitting him on the rebound. Meanwhile, Jason is holding the gun in his right hand. There’s no way Bruce was aiming for the gun or the Joker—not unless he was so emotionally compromised that his aim was really, really bad.

So, there are three interpretations here:

Bruce was aiming to rebound the Batarang into Jason’s neck. He was either slightly off (and it hit because the Joker, predictably, threw himself sideways) or he was going for a potentially lethal shot to the back of the neck. Jason and the Joker both believe this one.

Bruce was so distracted that he really messed up the angle. He was either going for the gun or the Joker, and missed horribly. This is what actually happened in this fic.

Bruce was aiming for a non-lethal shot to the backof Jason’s neck. To my understanding, this region is better protected by bones than the rest of the neck, so with comic book science, maybe Jason would have been temporarily unable to lift his head, but would have survived and recovered. Still, it’s incredibly risky. I think there’s a decent chance that comics!Bruce did this.

(There’s a possibility that, despite how it appears, Jason wasn’t actually thrown to the side. In this case, Bruce missing an attempt to hit the rebound into the gun and hitting Jason’s neck instead is a bit more likely.)

(I am not an expert in thrown weapons, so take this analysis with a pillar of salt, of course.)

“You don’t,” Bruce says, voice hollow. “Jason, I was aiming for the gun. It was an accident. I swear—”

Bruce is truly desperate here. Jason genuinely believes that Bruce took a kill-shot at him.

Telling Jason isn’t an accident isn’t going to help. It 100% sounds like someone trying to make last-minute lying justifications. Like “I didn’t mean to hit you!” etc.

And part of that is because I believe Bruce doesn’t actually know what happened. He had lost every ounce of his control (and we know Bruce has serious control issues) over the situation. So, he threw, and his mind was either blank or his memory of his reasoning is just completely gone. But the details of that moment are just consumed by panic. He knows that he wasn’t aiming for Jason’s neck—knows he would never do that—but he also doesn’t exactly know what he was aiming for instead. And that makes his justifications sound much weaker. (It's also why he missed so badly—he absolutely wasn't thinking straight in that moment.)

“I believe you,” Jason repeats. It’s all he can really do. Batman doesn’t miss. Batman certainly doesn’t miss as wildly as Bruce is claiming he did. Bruce doesn’t care enough to have been that badly out of it. “Can we please focus?” He rasps out the words, mouth suddenly dry. He takes a sip of the coffee, hiding his face behind the mug, because apparently it’s safe. Probably safe. Maybe Jason gave Bruce the idea and he slipped something into it while Jason was out of it. He forces himself to take a sip of the coffee anyway. He’s fucking pathetic. If Bruce wanted to capture him right now, he could do it easily.

With Bruce’s control issues, he really struggles to just move on. He needs Jason to know that he didn’t mean to. It’s essential. It matters more than anything else. Jason holds an incorrect belief about Bruce’s love for him, and Bruce needs to correct it.

Meanwhile, Jason is completely panicking. He’s in “placate and diffuse” mode—the fawn in the fight-flight-freeze-fawn reflex. And he completely discounts the possibility of the truth, because he doesn’t think Bruce cares about him enough to be so emotionally compromised that he missed that badly. The solution here, obviously, is that Bruce does care enough that he was that emotionally compromised.

Immediately after this snippet, Jason’s fear shows itself again, which jerks Bruce out of his (kind of self-centered) need to clarify. He just totally gives up on that part of the conversation and sort of steps back emotionally for the rest.

[robjn93]

Concerning Convergence Batgirl and Detective Comics Rebirth, do you think Tim was too much of a dick in convergence given the not talking to her, saying she wasn't ready, and expecting them to get back together because she was batgirl again. The sudden romance rekindling felt a bit left field.

As for TEC Rebirth a common criticism is how Steph felt mainly defined by Tim and was just mainly his GF throughout that arc. Do you feel the same way?

LOVE THESE QUESTIONS for the first point i would normally agree but this was a complicated stage for both tim and steph. tim being a dick, considering everything he was going through and the whole ‘steph’s dead but not really’ makes sense from his side. its complicated

may be controversial but i wouldn’t mind steph ‘fake dying’ as long as some writer handled meaningfully steph’s side of the story, how she just had to pretend she didnt exist for a year and how essentially her mother was miles away and she couldnt even ask her if she was okay and take care of her. i think it would also make an interesting commentary on ‘deciding to lie for batman’ and ‘being batgirl’ to appeal to someone who will never accept her, but we know it will never happen. sighh.

but back on the subject:

what i like about timsteph is that they are not perfect, they are not just ‘i love you and will ignore your flaws’ but more ‘i love you and your flaws, i love you unconditionally in spite and because of your flaws’ and it’s something that the writers in the red robin/batgirl era have been handling well in my eyes but i might be biased. in a situation where tim acts hard to reach, steph trying to get a rise out of him is her way of reminding him of ‘the good times’ and make him loosen up.

personally i didn’t feel like the timsteph’s romance rekindling came out of nowhere mostly because they never really… broke up? they were forced to be separated by the whole ‘fake dying’ and, before being able to set their issues aside, bruce ‘died’ too and tim went berserk so it’s natural their original feelings are still up and running.

as for the ‘he liked her again now that she was batgirl’ i mostly feel like it was just an (average) giant ‘foot in mouth’ tim drak-ian situation. he is an ass that sucks at explaining his feelings, even worse since he spent a year trying to detach himself from his feelings and is now (awkwardly) trying to piece his life back together and failing so he deserved that punch. always does i fear.

but in general i think that convergence, as admittedly a bit rushed as it is, was the perfect way to put them back together. they’ll have to pry the klimt inspired kiss from my cold dead hands.

onto the second one, much easier to agree with because I DO. GOD. i ADORE tec 939-940 but i can’t for the life of me enjoy rebirth steph. i don’t blame tynion cause the damage comes from within (looking at you, new52) but yeah absolutely. in a just world, the timsteph death speech moment would be written in a much better setting where steph actually had other things going on in her life but i cant ever win