#and eat Alfreds food

[skylersprompts]

DC x DP Prompt *6*

The entire Bat-Clan was on their way back from a mission abroad. Batman was the one in command of the Bat-Plane, while the kids tended to their wounds or were asleep. (Tim may have slept only 3 hours this entire week and Bruce would probably have to carry him to bed, as soon as they would be home.) Alfred knew that the family was on their way and was probably already cooking up a feast. Soon they could all rest.

At least that was the plan.

Before the Bat could even register what was happening, a swirling green Portal opened in front of the plane. Every system was screeching, while his kids all got ready for a fight.

He couldn't do anything to stop them from making contact and just two seconds after the green mass appeared the plane collided with it.

But on the other side was just more green. And some floating, purple doors.

Bruce immediately turned the plane around, but he was just greeted with the exact same few, without a portal.

And one look on the scans showed that they weren't in any to the Justice League known dimension.

They drifted through the strange world, sometimes seeing floating islands among the green abyss. While they all stayed vigilant, they also started to theorize.

The only one not participating was Jason, who had the strange feeling of a Deja Vu.

The green seemed to go on forever, at least until another green vortex opened in front of them and they incident repeated itself.

And for a split second they all thought that they are back in their world, but the navigation system seemed to be unable to provide them with any information on how to get home or on the place they landed in.

The Batman grunted in a way that all his children knew.

It was the grunt he made, when he wasn't able to say 'fuck'.

[hailsatanacab]

A Persuasive Argument - dpxdc

"Great!" Danny says, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention. The dinner table falls silent as everyone looks towards him. It's a full house today and, honestly, Danny's a little nervous. "I'm sure you're all wondering why I gathered you here today."

"It's dinnertime. In our house." Duke mutters, while doing a very bad job of concealing his yawn. He holds his fork poised over the braised beef, but, just like everyone else, still looks towards Danny before tucking in. It's intriguing enough to wait.

"Yeah, no one misses Alfie's dinner." Dick says, with a brilliant smile that Danny can't help but return.

"Precisely! What better time to talk to you all than when you're all actually here!"

"Wait, I thought you came round to work on our English essays?" Tim asks, blinking owlishly.

"I'm afraid I've lured you here under false pretences, Tim."

"This is where I live."

"I would still really appreciate help on that essay though, I mean, what the hell is Hamlet even about? I just don't get that old time-y language, like 'Hark! A ghost hath killed me!' - absolute rubbish, what does that even mean?"

"The ghost never kills anyone in Hamlet, he's there to tell Hamlet that he was murdered. Have you actually read it?"

"No, but it sounds like you have. Tim, I want this guy to help me with my essay instead. I know for a fact that you haven't read Hamlet, either."

"So? We don't need Jason, I've read the Sparknotes."

"Hi Jason, I'm Danny, pleasure to meet you, summarise Hamlet in three sentences or less."

"Am I auditioning to help you write your essays? I can't believe you’ve gone through your whole school life without reading it, it’s good!"

"Hamlet, along with a number of other classics, was banned in our house because it portrayed ghosts as intelligent and sympathetic beings rather than evil, animalistic beasts. I didn’t even get to see The Muppet's Christmas Carol until last year with Tim! It was surprisingly good, and I hate Christmas because everyone always argued and it sucked. But we're getting off topic. I—"

"No, no, please go back to that, because what the fu—"

"Boys, please." Bruce interrupts, looking to the world as if he wants to hang his head in his hands. "Danny, you were about to say something?"

"Oh, yeah, Mr. Wayne! Thanks!"

"Please, call me Bruce."

"Well, that very succinctly brings me to my point, because I'd actually really like to call you dad."

Nobody says a word. Nobody even blinks, all as shocked as the other, watching open-mouthed as Danny pulls his laptop out from beside his chair. Bruce can definitely feel a headache coming on.

"Before you say anything, I've prepared a 69 slide PowerPoint presentation on why you, Bruce Wayne, should adopt me, Danny Last-Name-Pending. Please save your questions, comments, and verdict until the end, thank you."

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 74

When a new black-haired blue-eyed person appeared in the manor, one could easily be forgiven for thinking that Bruce’s adoption problem had struck again. So color many a batkid surprised that no, this kid isn’t a new sibling, no he didn’t get grabbed from the street, and actually he’s here for Alfred. Apparently Alfred never found it important to mentioned that he has a husband- that the kid kind of implies isn’t human what with the casual way he says he himself is half human- and that this kid is apparently their child. For once it’s Bruce’s turn to come home to a surprise sibling. 

Danny on the other hand just learned that his Clockpa has a semi-mortal partner who has offered to take him in, (in another dimension even! And there’s aliens!!) while the ancient takes care of some stuff at home. And yeah it’s in a rich-manor but Sam has proved that not all rich people are evil, and based off of Mr Pennyworth’s stories the Waynes weren’t bad either. Though based off of the others’ reactions perhaps he should wait to mention that there wasn’t one new family member but three…

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Robin keeps receiving packed lunches.

He's not sure how it keeps happening. Any time Damian sits still for more than a second theres a small crincling sound of a paper bag and when he looks over to where the sound oriented from he sees the packed lunch.

This would be odd enough even before you counted the notes inside. The first one simply wrote, "from your loving clone ❤" which was concerning but upon fathers inspection none of the food had been tampered with, though the food choice was odd. Signal asked if he could have the fruit roll up since Damian didn't want it.

If this was a clone than what did they want? Why not come out and fight him? Were they trying to lure him into a false sense of security and poison the food at a later date? Why not strike him while they had the upper hand? It was clear Damian would not see them coming judging by how close the supposed "clone" could get before dropping off the packages.

Danny in the meantime hoped his clone dad liked the packed lunches he packed for him. He also hoped the Robin wouldn't try to stab him anytime soon.

Plot twist: its a Damian and Danyal are twins au but the twist is that Danyal is dead and Danny is actually Danyals clone instead of Damians. Neither know yet.

[p1nkshield]

Hi 👋 This is chapter four of the Estranged Uncle Au!

Just a warning there is mentions of cults and a scene that has Damian being Damian (AKA knife child) Please take care of yourselves! I hope you enjoy!

Clark was sweating buckets.

“I promise you I’m not in danger! This is all a big misunderstanding! Bruce isn’t even that creepy!”

Jazz rattled off several reasons.

“He has a cloyingly sweet public persona, his personal computer has extensive information on all of the local rogues in the area and all the adopted sons we’ve met look practically identical to both each other and you and Danny! Not to mention they all seem trained for combat! How is that not creepy?”

Okay from an impartial standpoint Clark could see how it looked like he was tied up in a cult.

“I swear if another fruitloop billionaire obsessed with one of my family members tries to adopt me I’m gonna wail!”

How specific!

“Wail?” Clark began to ask but was cut off.

“Are you tied up in a cult Clark? Because we can get you out if you are! I … uh know a guy who specializes in taking down cults.”

What?

“I promise you I’m not in a cult! The blue eyes and black hair is a coincidence and I am not in danger! Also what do you mean you know a guy who specializes in taking down cults!?!”

Danny squinted.

“Hold that thought. Everyone stop talking!”

Danny reached towards Clark’s shoulder and picked out a small device, no bigger than a grain of rice out of his cable knit sweater.

“No one who plants listening devices into sweaters isn’t creepy.”

He then promptly threw it to the ground and crushed it with his heel.

“That’s the end of the recording.” Tim said while cringing.

“Sleazy?!? Me? Sleazy? I did a back handspring on hardwood floors for them and they call me sleazy?!”

Dick thought that he could win them over. Was he too heavy handed?

“It’s probably because you fell asleep in the pico de gallo timber.” Jason joked as he inspected the weapons vault.

“What? Me?!? I was the only one who made any headway! I was just up late trying to track whoever was hacking us!” Tim defended.

“Well good news! You found ‘em! Let me know when they hack my library account seeing as the Big bad bat computer is being hacked by a couple teens.” Jason said dismissively as he took a flamethrower fuel canister.

Bruce was experiencing a new amalgamation of emotions. He was both incredibly embarrassed, incredibly amused and incredibly impressed.

How embarrassing that the bat computer was hacked! He put so much effort into the protection of his data!

But then again Clark must be beside himself trying to convince them he wasn’t in a cult and that was incredibly amusing. He even said all the things that people said when they were in denial about being in a cult!

This was absurd! The only way to describe this was absurd!

“Fools! All of you do not truly understand the gravitas of the situation! If they believe that we are indeed weapons dealers they may snoop further and compromise all of our secret identities!” Damian huffed his way into the view of his family.

“We’ll be alright Dami, Tim is reinforcing our defenses for the computer and we’re going to try and disengage for a while. If we keep on trying we might make it worse.” Dick ruffled through Damian’s hair despite many protests.

Damian tutted at this suggestion. They needed to approach the problem head on and quickly rectify the situation lest it spiral into a larger one. Perhaps if they suffered an accident.

“Damian! I know that face! That’s the face you make when you go off and try to rectify the situation by yourself!”

“That is not true Grayson! I was simply thinking about confiding in my companion about how tedious my science project is.”

“You promise you’re only going to engage in age appropriate activities like science homework and book reports?”

“I promise.”

"I'm choosing to believe you" Dick began to walk away before pulling another sour face. "...Sleazy?"

Damian checked his hidden blades one final time before encroaching upon this Daniel Fenton who had foolishly entered an alleyway. He deftly held a knife to the throat of his target.

"If you continue to snoop into my father's business I will not hesitate to cut you down!"

Damian was expecting to me met with fear and copious apologies. He was a fearsome and terrifying warrior after all.

"Are you trying to hold me at knifepoint on your tippy-toes?" The target said in the same tone that one would use with a kitten trying to jump a bit too high. They should be focused on the clear danger Damian was posing. Or at least the danger he was posing. Between the moment Damian looked at his feet and the moment he looked back up to find a very unperturbed Danny.

"Did your father put you up to this?" He asked.

"No! I acted of my own accord!"

"Well are there anymore ineffective threats you want to say?"

Damian was about to say something when his stomach audibly growled. Curses! He could not bring a meal in order to maintain secrecy from Alfred! Damian slowly looked up towards Danny's face. He has that look that Grayson gets before he does something annoying like ruffle his hair.

"Are you hungry?"

Damian did not dignify this question with an answer and began to storm off.

"I'm having some friends over, we can spare you a plate! My friend Sam chose the menu though so its vegan."

Damian stopped in his tracks.

"What is it that you are making?"

"Cauliflower gnocchi with cashew cream pesto."

"And this is taking place in Clark's home?"

"yep."

"Fine. But I will not be lenient with you because you've offered me a meal!"

Danny laughed and texted Sam

"Hey get another bundle of basil Im bringing a guest"

[emo-batboy]

Battinson and Food

He’s vegetarian and I will hear none of your crap

Depression meals, so many depression meals

I already made a post of his greatest hits here but here's three more:

A whole tub of apple sauce

Instant grits mixed with a hot chocolate packet

And a bowl of croutons

Some meals have actually graduated from the “Depression Meal” category to “Whenever I Can Sneak It Out of the Kitchen” status (because Alfred is appalled every time)

Dick, with the invincible, titanium-lined stomach of a 9yo, doesn’t know why Bruce makes them, but he loves taking bites of Bruce’s weird concoctions.

His favorites so far are:

Cream cheese and jelly sandwich

Spoonfuls of peanut butter (with chocolate chips, that was his idea)

And frozen garlic bread

Diner Food is King. (This is New Jersey. What did you expect?) His go-to order is two eggs over easy, well-done rye toast, grits with syrup and butter, and a fruit cup with no melons from the 24-hour place two blocks east. Hasn’t changed since he was five. Never will.

Bruce can cook food that is edible. Edible.

Like if he tries to make Italian, he can successfully cook the pasta. He can make a basic sauce. He can even plate it.

The tomato sauce is crunchy in some places, yes, but it’s fine :) and it is edible

but Bruce has NEVER succeeded in a baking endeavor, and it positively devastates him every single time

“Baking is science! I love science! I’m great at science. So why didn’t the cake rise when I did everything on the recipe?!” “You need to make it with love-“ “That wasn’t on the ingredients list, Alfred!”

He can handle spice surprisingly well. It’s not like he could avoid it while training all over the world, so he ended up building a tolerance, but his eyes still go unbelievably red every time.

He really fucks with bagels (I mean, what self-respecting Gothamite doesn’t) and he has a very specific bagel order for every possible mood from the great place downtown

The workers at Bagel Kingdom know which moods correspond with which order, and they have a designated spreadsheet taped to the back of the counter so they can work accordingly.

They know he’s barely hanging in there when he gets a toasted blueberry bagel with no butter.

He’s having a good day when he gets a plain bagel sandwich with tomato, provolone, two fried eggs, and hot sauce. In that order. That’s the shit

When he’s stressed, he gets a pumpernickel bagel with strawberry cream cheese to cheer himself up.

The workers of Bagel Kingdom will NOT let you disrespect his bagel.

Bruce almost burnt the tower down when he tried to cook a toaster waffle in the microwave while running on 40 hours without sleep, and he just kept cooking it because it wasn’t crisping for some reason

Alfred needs to force him to eat all the time

(It is definitely because Bruce suffers from disordered eating.)

There was one period of time in which Bruce went days without food, and Alfred (lovingly) threatened to send him to in-patient if he didn’t eat

Bruce said that those gross, mushy, lukewarm blueberries were the only thing he’d tolerate when he was struggling, so blueberries became their indicator: if Bruce can’t stomach blueberries, he goes to in-patient.

He’s gone twice, and Bruce was very mad each time, but he still uses healing methods that he was taught in there so it couldn’t have been that bad.

(He’s also friends with some of the nurses now. He, Denise, and Kayleigh have a group chat.)

Dick once convinced him to test taste different kinds of olive oil to learn the difference between regular and extra virgin. It was absolutely disgusting, and he ended up puking an hour later. Alfred now puts child locks on the kitchen cabinets.

The first time Bruce ever makes a meal that doesn’t look horrid is when he spends two weeks practicing Romani dishes for Dick the month after he adopts him.

He has since perfected three different recipes:

Stuffed peppers

Goulash

Cabbage rolls

(Keep in mind Dick is not vegetarian like Bruce.)

He tried making almond cake like 80 times (which is more like a biscuit but still a baked good) but could never do it right so Alfred makes them instead.

At dinner time, Dick always eats off Bruce’s plate more than his own. Alfred has chastised him several times, but Bruce only encourages him more. He thinks it’s cute. And so does the general public when they attend dinner parties.

One of Bruce's favorite memories of his parents is when he had a bad dream in the middle of the night so Thomas and Martha drove him out to the nearest diner to have a chocolate milkshake at 3 am.

Now, after patrol, if Bruce saw something traumatic or something that reminded him of his parents’ death, he’ll go to that same 24-hour diner and sit for a bit with a chocolate milkshake.

He continues this tradition after Dick becomes Robin. (Even if it took months for Bruce to even consider the idea of letting Dick near harm’s way.)

No matter how hard he tries to keep Dick away from the gruesome stuff, he can’t stop everything. They get milkshakes a lot more than Bruce would like.

But eventually, it turns into a treat whenever Dick does well in school or needs a pick-me-up.

And when they add Jason to the mix, they introduce him to the tradition as well.

They know everything will be okay when they have chocolate milkshakes together.

[sentienceisoverrated]

Dick eating a piece of bread:

Tim also eating a piece of bread:

Damian eating jam and toast:

Jason eating a full English breakfast he made for himself: Sucks to be you guys.

Bruce sprinting in because he smelt food: Is Alfred back?

Tim, Dick and Damian: No.

Jason: (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

[littlefankingdom]

~ Teen Titans: Year One

Batman checking if the place his kid hangs out at with his friends is "secure" enough, like the over protective father that he is.

[mikakuna]

the absolute horror and offence in his face at alfred taking away his dinner is perfectly captured

[trashmakerarticle]

Bruce being absolutely horrible in the kitchen will always be a fav, but listen aight

Would Alfred really let this boy live with teaching him how to cook? I know Alfie drilled it into his brain on how to cook with perfection, but Bruce just chooses to make bum ass food for a reason only god knows, most weirdest combinations that got so weird to the point Alfred banned him from ever stepping foot in the kitchen ever again

[brucie-baby]

pls share your ocd Bruce thoughts. as in your thoughts about Bruce having ocd. Pls and tanks

[big warning for intrusive thoughts, compulsions, paranoia. i do list specific ocd thoughts in this post. please be careful and don't read if those might affect you in any negative way.]

his compulsions mostly lie around keeping his family safe. he spends a while each night after patrol doing a perimeter check and ensuring all the security is online/working (one night he accidentally fell asleep in the cave and didn't wake up until morning - alfred woke up startled to see bruce checking his pulse because you fell asleep without checking and now he's dead he's dead and it's your fault).

he struggles a lot with intrusive thoughts; they're quite difficult to combat because he knows they aren't real but also a fair few of them are based on things that have happened to him in the past so he's more than aware that they're still possible (e.g. your son is dead somewhere, go find him; your friend has turned evil, check you have your defence against them and get ready to use it). he often just gets incredibly graphic images in his head, and he digs his nails into his skin until it goes away.

another thought he struggles a lot with is 'this person is an imposter. they are wearing someone else's face. this is not the person you know'. this is one that he definitively knows isn't true but also it's happened before so it can happen again. it makes him feel a little silly whenever this happens, because his way around it is to find somebody he does trust in that moment and stay near them whilst keeping a subtle eye on the 'imposter', and it makes him feel like a little kid hiding behind his mother's legs at a gala all over again.

there are some positives though!! he's not too sure why but these paranoid thoughts aren't often in regards to j'onn, so occasionally he'll request for j'onn to scan someone's mind to check if they are who they say they are, and j'onn does it with no questions asked. j'onn doesn't fully understand why bruce needs him to do this but he does recognise the spike in anxiety just before bruce asks and the relief bruce feels after, and so he does it because he knows it helps his friend, even if he doesn't know why.

(sometimes, when it's just him and the 'imposter' in the room, he just leaves. he doesn't explain. he doesn't say goodbye. he just leaves. he tells himself that it's to ensure his own safety. he ignores the way it feels like fleeing.)

he has a lot of little compulsions too, like rapping his knuckles against a specific part of the wall before using the zeta tube (if he doesn't, the transport will rip them apart). whenever somebody questions it, he says it's for luck. this leads to the team believing batman to be incredibly superstitious. the only people that know the truth are dick, jason, tim and alfred. eventually he does tell clark and diana, and he stops trying to hide it around the rest of the batfamily, but he does not like people knowing about it.

[anawrites3]

I couldn't stop thinking about @zeroducks-2's post where they said about Jason and Bruce that "They should be unable to coexist in the same room let alone speak" and idk I got inspired and this came into being

They're after some rough patrol and Dick managed to convince Jason to go with them to manor so he can take care of his injuries.

Dick was in the middle of wrapping Jason's hand when the door opened. Tim looked up from his book and Jason stiffened so slightly that if it weren't for the way Dick was holding his arm he wouldn't even notice it and really, that was all Dick needed to get who was standing at the door. He didn't stop wrapping Jason's hand, didn't even look up and after a few seconds Jason's muscles unclenched.

"Is there something you need, Bruce?" Dick hummed after few seconds when the man still didn't move from his place by the door.

Bruce cleared his throat. "No."

And then he walked inside. Dick's eyes flicked up to watch him as he moved further into the room. Even Tim put his book aside to stare at Bruce with a frown and his lips pressed into a line, as if he wanted to say something but didn't. Bruce didn't seem to notice all the looks he received, or maybe he just simply ignored them because he put a hand on an armrest of a chair and moved as if he wanted to sit down.

"Bruce."

Bruce froze at the tone. "Yes, Dick?"

Dick turned back to his little brother. Jason was looking down, eyes flashing slightly green, at his hand Dick was still holding and that hold was probably the only thing keeping him from storming out of the room and from the manor and running far away from this place.

Dick really couldn't blame him.

"If you don't need anything, then you can leave." He said.

Jason lifted his head sharply to look at him. The green faded from his eyes and Dick curled his lips into a soft smile, before finishing the wrapping and moving to cleaning up other, more minor cuts on Jason's arm.

"What?" Bruce asked, almost as if he was making sure he heard right.

"I said leave." Dick repeated patiently. "You don't need to be here, you said so yourself. We came to this room so we wouldn't have to be around you and yet you followed us here. Maybe you didn't know. I don't care. Leave."

He didn't have to look at Bruce to see the way his eyes narrowed just slightly.

"This is my home." He said and Dick needed a few seconds to breath so he wouldn't snap.

"Yes. It is." He said in a cold voice. "That's why you can choose whatever room you want to sit in. Not this one."

"Dick-"

"I swear to fucking god, Bruce-"

[bongo-clash]

This is a complete crack idea. However: dp/dc au where Danny is Alfred. He found out that he is 1) Immortal and 2) can shapeshift and he's just been randomising his customisation settings ever since. When he goes into butler work for the Waynes he decides to be as stereotypical as possible figuring it'll be really funny for the few years he works for them, and the bit is indeed Very Good- right up until their son gets orphaned. It's been 30 years and now the bit is just his life. 

[cassandracain52]

My BatFamily cooking headcanons

Good Cooks:

Alfred: is the only reason half of them eat anything at all. He is s a great cook but doesn’t tend to use much spices. Can’t make waffles to save his life but it is his only flaw

Jason: Genuinely enjoys cooking and is very good at it. Can make just about anything if given the recipe. Will often purposefully cook way too much food and claim it wasn't intentional. He then insists that everyone needs to have some because he refuses to "let it go to waste" so he doesn't have to admit he did something nice for them

Damian: First learned by occasionally helping Alfred in the kitchen. He initially didn't want to admit he liked it because he was taught it was "beneath him". His family eventually convinced him that cooking was a life skill and something everyone should know how to do and that he was allowed to enjoy it. Now he cooks whenever he can and likes experimenting with lots of different spices, occasionally to his family's dread

Decent Cooks:

Dick: He can't cook anything overly complicated but so long as he has the recipe he can usually get pretty close. Doesn't particularly enjoy cooking but he does like cooking with others. Though he usually ends up making something boxed or cereal anyways

Duke: Similarly to Dick he doesn't make anything too fancy but he's still decent in the kitchen. Doesn't cook very often but when he does he prefers to have the kitchen to himself so he has room to work

Barbara: Learned to cook out of necessity since her dad was often busy. Only cooks when there's no other option because she thinks it takes too much time. Usually will just order take out

I mean they probably won't burn the kitchen down:

Stephanie: Can cook waffles and pancakes and only those two things. Everything else either ends up burnt or raw. These are also the only things she is allowed to use the kitchen for and not without supervision

Tim: He is a rich kid who always either had someone that could cook for him or the money to buy something already made and it shows. It's lucky if he remembers to eat actual food instead of energy drinks and coffee let alone actually cook. Is banned from using the kitchen but will occasionally be allowed to stay provided he promises not to try and help

Cass: Was never taught how to cook due to her upbringing. Barbara did attempt to teach her the basics but it never really took. She usually just ends up making frozen food

Absolutely cannot ever be allowed in the kitchen:

Bruce: Has a lifelong ban. Should he attempt to so much as enter the kitchen call for Alfred immediately. He once managed to set fire to water when trying to make a child Dick Grayson Mac and Cheese and hasn't been let back in since. Anything he does manage to make is definitely not edible and probably poisonous. Do Not Eat It

[trekkele]

Jokes about Damian being an ipad kid and whatever but personally i think Bruce and Talia are those parents who you have to subtly mention your kids recent antibiotics prescription or your flu shot appointment to try and figure out if they’re just crunchy or full on antivaxxers

[generational-atrophy]

(HWS America x Reader) Fourth of July! ( w/ S/O that's scared of fireworks)

(Gender Neutral) Scenario ~ A/N happy fourth!!! reminder that armed revolution is ok and the police should be completely reformed and the american state is built on the blood of slaves and natives. anyway

Trigger Warning: Guilty thoughts (which get shut down,) other than just fluff!

You'd been called a lot of things. A stick in the mud, no fun, a party ruiner, and much more. All just because celebrating the Fourth of July like everyone else seemed like stressful misery.  Sure, not all of it was so exhausting, but when night fell, you couldn't do anything but turn up your music to an unhealthy degree and cower under the blankets. So, when your first July with your new boyfriend, Alfred, arrived, you weren't sure what to do.  Now, not only did you have the pressure of celebrating the worst holiday of the year, but also one of the best. His birthday.

You knew about his plans as soon as he made them. Like every July for the last 415 years, his birthday party was going to be the most bombastic event of the year. Party all throughout the day at his old mansion, hundreds invited, rented attractions and performers,  all capped off with a magnificent fireworks display as the sun sets.  Fun, for everyone! Including you, for some of it at least.

Before the party started, he made it clear that he didn't expect you to participate all day.  Not everyone has the social battery that he does and the last thing he wanted on his special day was you to be upset. Plus, he told you he wanted you to save some energy to properly gawk at his world-renowned firework show.

So you did as he suggested. The first part of the day was spent clinging to his side as he went around talking to friends new and old alike. The only time you didn't spend trapped under his arm was whenever he'd try to introduce you to politicians, politicians who had absolutely no business knowing who you were, at least. Then you'd slink away, joining your own friends in the many colourful games he had set up all over the lawn. But having an entire country fair dedicated solely to your boyfriend is bound to cause some imposter syndrome.

So about halfway through the party, you retired inside. But even though the distant chatter of people became muffled, you didn't feel any more comforted.  Your boyfriend was still out there, having a great time without you. Your friends too, were partying without a care in the world. And once again you had become a stick in the mud.

“Am I making this about myself by not having fun?” You couldn't help but wonder as you looked down at the red, white, and blue crowd. Such thoughts kept you locked inside, away from being forced to ponder that question anymore. For the rest of the day, you rarely ventured outside to steal a snack from Alfred's utterly deranged spread of all-American food. “I'll make it up during the fireworks show...” You concluded nervously.

But as the sun began to set, you couldn't help but panic. Alfred would want you to come down and watch with him... but there was nothing you wanted to do less in the whole world at that moment. Bright, deafeningly loud, surrounded by others, all while having to force a reaction for him. But... but you'd do it because you loved him, right?

“Y/N?” Alfred asks from the doorway to your room. His voice startles you out of your thoughts, and you spin around to face him. As you realised he could see you, you stopped biting your nails and forced a smile.

“Is it about to start?” You ask, trying to keep your voice casual.

“Yeah, wanna come?”

“Course, just give me, like... a minute, ok?”

He pauses, looking you up and down, his expression unreadable. He rests against the doorway and asks, ”Are you sure you want to come?“

”What?“

“You don't have to come... if you don't want to,” he says in a quiet, comforting voice while crossing his arms.

“What are you talking about? I just said I'd go,” You say, confused at his sudden non-committal to the event.

“Yeah, but I'm saying that if you're gonna be uncomfortable, I don't want you to come.”

“L-Listen... I'm sorry that I've been up here all day-”

He cuts you off, “Don't worry about it. I'm just happy you were there for a little bit,”

“Ok but- I'm going to make up for my absence at the fireworks show.”

He stares at you, his face still unreadable, ”Only if you want to. Which, again, you haven't said that you want to yet,“

You flinch. Why couldn't he be the doofus he is with everyone else, with you? “I don't want to, but you'll prove me wrong, right?”

“Ok, then let's just hang out in here.” He states, walking towards you.

“Wh- No. You were so excited to see the fireworks!”

“Yeah, I was. But I was more excited to just... spend time with you,” He says, crouching in front of you and taking your cheek in his hand.

“Alfred...”  You whine, trying to pull away.

“Listen, I got a potentially infinite amount of fireworks shows in front of me. But I only got what, 80 more birthdays left with you? I'd much rather see you happy than some cool explosions in the sky,“  He smiles.

You sigh, pausing for a moment as he looks at you expectantly. Meeting his gaze, you concede, ”Sure. If that's what you want.“

He grins, taking your hand in his, ”It's totally what I want.“

Before you can try to protest, he drags you out of your seat by your hand. He brings you downstairs, past the view of all of his partygoers, sitting you down in the basement. You try to speak before he cuts you off.

”Just hang out down here for a little bit, alright? I'll be right back,” He paces back and forth for a moment excitedly, before running back upstairs. So there you wait, sitting confused on his couch, waiting for him to return with whatever idea he had had.

And after about 5 minutes of you sitting on your phone, he returned. He was carrying multiple plates of the food you and him liked best, as well as a couple of blankets (all of which displayed the American flag because well- it's Alfred,) He sets them down on the coffee table and places his hands on his hips, looking down at you like he was expecting something.

“Woah, uh- you planning to sustain us for a week down here?”  You joke.

“If you'd like that, for sure,” He laughs, but it's clear he's a little serious.

He rushes to sit next to you, wrapping you up in one of the blankets. He pulls you closer to him by the hips, leaning his head against yours as he turns on the tv in front of both of you. Outside, booms rattle the ceiling, causing you to shake against him. But with every boom, he squeezes you tighter.

Even as the world outside shakes and rattles with noise, you knew you were safe with him. Every time you would start to shudder again, he quickly turned up the volume of the tv. By a couple of hours in, the sound of the fireworks outside was completely drowned out by the noise of some random old show Alfred loved.

“Alfred?”

”What's up?“ He responds, rubbing your side comfortingly.

”How come this doesn't remind you of like, wartime or anything like that? I mean- I just wouldn't expect someone like you to like that kind of thing anymore.“

He sighs melancholically, eyes turning to the side, “It did for a little bit. Like you said, it's hard not to remember that kinda stuff.”

You readjust yourself to look at him more intently, intertwining your fingers with his, “It doesn't anymore, though?”

“Nah. Not anymore. Like, it kinda makes me feel better now. You know, like bad things keep happening, but it's fine. Cause I got to see a fireworks show again this year! Which means all that bad stuff is just gonna be the past now.”

You turn back to the show, leaning your head on his shoulder. In response, he wraps his arm around your back, “That's a nice way to think about it,” You mumble.

“Gotta find nice ways to think about stuff. Or else, everything sucks forever,” He says matter-of-factly, causing both of you to chuckle for a moment at his phrasing.

“Weird that so many powerful people hang out with you when you talk like-” You start to say, before being cut off by another boom from outside. He notices immediately, clicking his tongue sympathetically and squeezing your shoulder to reassure you.

“They gotta. How are you gonna be running America without talking to America?” He laughs, trying to get you to relax.

“Uh- I don't know if you're entirely representative of the entire population, Alfred.”

“What are you talking about?” He exclaims sarcastically, “I'm the most average American guy in like, the whole country!“

”Average people can't throw around cars like tennis balls!” You laugh. And for the rest of the night, you laughed at his stupid jokes. Anytime the house would be rocked by the explosions outside, he would make sure you were focusing on the moment you two were sharing, rather than the fear you were used to every year on that day. Why stay outside in the summer heat, when you can cuddle up with someone you love in a chill basement,  eating food you both adore?

Much better than fireworks, he concluded. And you couldn't help but agree.