#fandom; dc

[devilfic]

you know what. I think battinson is such an enthusiastic kisser

both his kisses with selina were kind of this dreamy, almost out-of-body experience where selina had him under her spell and he was just sort of helplessly in love with her so he could do naught but follow her lead,,, but I like imagining what it'd be like if HE initiated kissing his partner

like there's the more confident bruce, a few more years into being batman bruce, where he leans in during a lull of good conversation and he's smiling and suave and controlled but like. bruce in year 2? bruce fresh off selina and realizing he could maybe make time for a relationship? realizing how much he missed being touched? somebody call animal control cause this bat is in heat

before he leans in, he watches you like you'll disappear. his eyes are wide open!! he doesn't want to miss a thing!!! I think he's more likely to grab for your waist instead of going for your face or something.... I think he bubbles with the desire to touch you so bad and he just wants to feel you against all of him, and I think he can't help being a manhandler,,, he needs to move you just so because like he cannot let you slip from his fingers when he's aching to kiss you so bad

he doesn't make a lot of noise when he kisses but he breathes Heavy. I think once he's kind of really winded that's when he starts whimpering really low in his throat... nothing too crazy... little grunts and whines but they're so quiet. if he's kissing you and gets disturbed tho I do think he will full on groan and groan LOUD and it's both funny and super attractive because his face screws up in this petulant little scowl like. can't you see he's busy

he 100% leans fully into it which is a lot because he's a BIG man. he's going to have to push you up against something every single time because he is chasing you every time you part for air, almost mindless and eyes half-lidded as he mouths at you. he's so into it that I can guarantee it's gotten you two kicked out of a gala or two when people inevitably find him devouring you in a dark corner or a hallway you both assumed to be empty

if you wear lipstick/gloss he is not wiping that shit off either oh my goooood. don't let me think about you leaving marks all over his face and him proudly walking out into a swarm of paparazzi just. cheeky

it's really hard to just give this man a quick, chaste kiss. everything has to last at least a minute with him. it's why he literally cannot kiss you when he's busy because it'll be a minute and then five and then he's behind on work (oh no..... so sad.... anyway) because he's got you laid on the nearest surface sucking bruises into your neck

bruce will kiss any part of you but I think he's just so obsessed with your lips that it's where he inevitably fixates each time. it is so so hard to kiss him anywhere else because he will be like wow nice. kiss from my lovely partner. not on my lips tho.... and when he turns around for a kiss on the lips you can't just refuse! he's got such kissable lips and oh this is a time loop that never ends isn't it

[shyjusticewarrior]

At some point "fanfic can be as good as professional writing" became "fanfic should be as good as professional writing" and that's caused major damage to fandom spaces.

[pinkiemachine]

I made a thing….

[olive-recs]

CASSIDY HOW I HAVE MISSED YOUUUUUUU (and how i have missed your big brained, silly, funny, miraculously vibechecked and aesthetic writing but we'll get there in time, first know that i think of you constantly <3)

finding out you're in the dc fanbase is curing me, actually, but don't bring me back to my jason todd days, please revive this part of me in a way infinitely stronger and i have some Thoughts™ about your silly silly writing so allow me to clear my throat so that i might more properly scream:

YOU GET IT; YOU GET IT; YOU DELIVERED; YOU UNDERSTOOD <3333.

ofc the bruce one was on point i see your current ride or die energy for him, it's silly fun, but the jason section????? oh you knew what the girlies were veritably begging for and that's so powerful of you to just deliver like that ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ and tim so right so right that loser would and i can't be upset about it ♥♥♥ my favorite of the set has to be dick though, i think you perfected the precarious tightrope that separates his competent side and loser energy <3333. don't make me consider writing for these degenerates again, it could, in fact, break me.

attractive things they do while you're dating

pairing: batboys (plus clark lol) & reader ❀ׄ ꥈ

𓍢ִ໋☕ cassidy's note: for funsies. not edited. i love reading variations of these. i haven't written since 2020. if you can like this, reblog too.

bruce 🦇ᡣ𐭩˚.

navigating paparazzi: the careful way he guides you to block the flaring flashes from cameras with his broad shoulders.

bruce wraps his fingers to pull on your waist, tugging you further behind him, ensuring no shots of you are taken on what was meant to be a private night out.

despite the urgency of the situation--his face still stays controlled and imperturbable, but his grip is firm to reassure you, as he leans down and mumbles in your ear, "just a bit farther, the car's close," before his voice cuts through the cries and shutters lowly: "we're done here."

listens intently, and remembers every single detail about you, despite whether you think it's significant or not for him to know.

bruce stores your favorite shampoo and conditioner in his bathroom when you stay the night over.

and when you're sitting on the edge of his sink, removing his makeup from under his eyes, you notice it sitting amongst his own body-wash and pine scented soap.

but when you ask him about it, he simply shrugs and waves it off.

dick 🏙ɞ♥️*

teaches you self defense: his hands gently curl over yours to demonstrate how they should look before you throw a punch.

his touch is light, "keep your thumb on the outside", dick's finger taps the inside of your palm, "if you keep it inside, you'll break it--not fun."

he whistles when you hit him solidly in the side with a wide grin, despite the force of your blow, "better."

insists on helping you put on all your jewellery and shoes.

he turns you around, and pulls your hair to one side of your neck, before fiddling with the clasp. he's clumsy at first, but eventually gets the hang of it the more he does it. his hands linger on the slope of your neck for a moment longer than necessary.

later, as you reach for your shoes, he beats you to it, kneeling in front of you. dick's motions are all exaggerated as he does it.

your hand cards through his hair when he's looking up through his lashes after he's fastened the straps, and kissing the inside of your calf slowly.

jason ❤️‍🩹⋆｡

reads on public transportation: jason pulls out a beat up paperback he picked up from a secondhand bookstore from his back pocket. it has dog eared pages and a weathered spine.

there's a baby crying on the train, but he doesn't seem to notice as he flicks a ringed finger to the page he last read.

he pulls a pencil from his jacket pocket, and traces a line in a passage--a part he thinks you'd like. when he leans forward, his shirt rides up a bit so a strip of his skin is visible to you.

doesn't wipe your lipgloss from his cheek.

the shimmer from it stains his cheek after you pressed a kiss to it. you go to wipe it with a laugh, reaching with your thumb, and jason catches it mid-air. "you've got glitter on your face jay, people are gonna-"

"next time, wear red."

tim 🪽❥˚

gnaws at his lip as he concentrates.

the hum of the keys click in the batcave and papers rustle. tim's focus is sharp as he attempts piecing together his newest case, and his teeth catch in his bottom lip. an unconscious habit.

you can't help but tease him about it, "that's a terrible habit to have, you know that?" you lean against his desk."it helps me think."

sure enough, he does it again. "you're gonna chew your lip off your face one day." his lips curve upwards at your observation, but your gaze was now intense as you observed his lip in his teeth, and before you can state another snarky remark, he shoots you a knowing look before pulling your belt loops, and kissing you.

wears your hair tie on his wrist. it was never really ever a big deal. one day you handed it to him while getting ready for bed one night as you pulled out your ponytail and he snapped it onto his wrist without much thought. now, it's routine. it doesn't matter where he is exactly, if tim's at a gala or in a meeting or out in gotham on patrol, the hair tie is around his wrist.

you heard him cursing from the other room when he misplaced it once.

clark 🌟.*☆

saves you a seat, always: whether it's evenings in or out, clark always makes you feel like you're the most important person there.

it's not something that's said but understood, as he pulls the chair next to him, letting it be out long enough for you to get comfortable, before gently scooting it inwards.

when you eat, and when he thinks you're not looking--clark will adjust your plate, and glace over at your water glass to make sure it is filled. and if you want extra bread, don't even worry because he kept an extra piece on his plate for you.

pushing his glasses up. there's something kinda charming about the way he does it that you wish you could explain it better. it's absentminded, he does it a lot!

when he's looking over articles or reading or just talking to you. in the elevator, he'll lean forward to look over the numbered floors, and they won't stay in place, sliding down the bridge of his nose. you don't say anything, but smile slightly, and he'll return it goofily and with more teeth, before he asks, "what?"

tags: @retvenkos

[camo-wolf]

OOOOOHHHHH MMMMYYYYY GGGOOODDDD

[maromarlade]

Dick: *aggressively staring at Roy*

Duke: what's happening..?

Tim: just wait

Dick: *starts glaring at Jason, who is sat next to Roy*

Dick: *gaze flickering between Jason and Roy*

Duke: wait for how long..?

Dick, pointing at Roy: you disgust me!

Dick, points towards Jason: That's a child! You hear me!? A child!

Jason: Dick, I'm 25

Dick, hands on his hips: a child I say

[ftl-faster-than-life]

Honestly I think it’s so funny that in the Marvel universe, when someone’s really smart, they have like eight to twelve doctorates and they finished high school at age twelve.

And then over in the DC universe it’s like. This is Tim Drake. He’s a genius. He keeps cloning his loved ones. He dropped out of highschool. Over there is Barry Allen. He can reverse engineer a spaceship in less than a minute. He is such a good chemist he’s still going to be known as the best chemist in 4,000 years. He has a bachelor’s degree.

[imheretoreadafic]

When Bruce was new to the whole having children thing, he was always stepping in and trying to break up fights. His resolve was quickly broken, and he just decided to put rules on fighting out problems. No breaking anything, no weapons, no hitting face, neck, or groin, and no knockouts.

Batman leaned against the wall and casually watched as Robin and Red Robin beat the shit out of each other. The JL glanced at each other.

"You... You gonna do something about that, Bats?" Barry asks cautiously.

"It's been a long time coming." Bruce grunts. "Let them handle it." A hit to the jaw lands on Damian, and he shouts at them: "AY, KEEP IT AWAY FROM THE FACE!"

"FUCK OFF!" Tim screams but he doesn't punch Damian in the face again.

Diana nods. "I approve of this parenting technique. Sometimes problems need to be solved with some bruises and blood." Bruce nods as well.

"I've found breaking up their fights just means they still get bruised but no issue is solved." Batman explains and Diana hums thoughtfully.

"Would it not also be adequate to have them duel?"

"No, they do actual damage if i let them have a weapon.

"Ah, I suppose that makes sense."

Everyone is horrified.

[ryemiffie]

I like the idea that Bruce found out Jason was alive not because of some dramatic reveal or anything but just cause he got back from patrol one night and Jason was causualy as fuck in the manor looking through the fridge.

Like Bruce passes the kitchen on the way up to his room and at first he thinks it's Tim or perhaps Dick came over at some point, but then something in his tired brain clicks and he's like "Wait.." And then rushes back to the kitchen doorway.

Lo and behold, there is his son, his precious baby boy he thought was gone forever, tears start to build in his eyes as he gazes at the child he watched die in his arms, his little boy looks so different but he's still that boy from all those years ago, Bruce can tell, a father can always tell. And as mascara runs down Bruce's face, Jason opens his mouth to speak, the first words Bruce will hear from his son in years..

"You're out of milk"

[devilfic]

❝domesticated❞

plot: on valentine's day, bruce leaves you high and dry. you don't forgive easy. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: established relationship, a little suggestive, reader tortures bruce for superheroing on date night, minor violence (reader presses on his bruises but, of course, he's into it), yearning bruce, he wants that cookie so mf bad. words: 1.4k.

a/n: just like bruce I am also late for valentine's day :D dealing with major writer's block but I was reminded of the bed scene in challengers and couldn't shake it.

Bruce rarely allows himself to be like this. Even when he’s got a knife gut-deep, cornered on all sides, he never lets himself get this weak. This mindless. This depraved.

But here he is, and here you are—smiling tightly. It gnaws at his pride, begging him to be honest with himself as he collapses on the foot of the bed. The pain of landing on his bruises does nothing to sober him as he begins to crawl up to you. Your knees are pressed to your chest, but the closer he gets, the more they part, allowing him to drag his upper body up and into your lap where he rests. His face presses into your stomach. You can feel the low rumble in his chest. One of your hands sinks into his hair and he nuzzles a little closer to you, “Bad day?”

Your tone is just slightly mocking. Just enough to agitate him, but not enough for him to regain his sense. He grits his teeth and nods, and the action has his cheek rubbing against your warm skin.

When he props his chin up, you’re not looking at him but the book in your other hand. You’re close to the end judging by the last half-inch of paper steadied between your fingers. His deep sigh does nothing to stir your sympathy. “It was all gone.”

“Hm?”

“The panna cotta. You said you’d save me some.”

“Oh,” you say belatedly, clearly in the middle of a rousing scene, “sorry, must’ve ate it all.”

“All of it?”

“I invited my friends over after you left. Guess I just lost track of it.”

He knew that, and you probably knew that he knew that. No one came and went in the penthouse without him knowing. He’d gotten the notification that several of your close friends had arrived a quarter to nine, and had only left an hour ago. The timing was impeccable. Of course you knew him well, and of course you’d make sure it was just the two of you when he inevitably came back from patrol. It doesn’t make the craving he'd looked forward to satiating go away.

And he knows he has no right to be upset. He’d left the panna cotta (and you) behind for—he twists his arm a bit and it twinges with a sharp pain—for this.

You don’t even look his way when he lets out a pained gasp.

Bruce presses his cheek to your stomach again, and his fingers travel under your sweater to sap the warmth for his own when you abruptly pull your hand from his hair to shove his away. He freezes, only hearing your voice grumbling out a “’S cold.”

Fuck. “I’m sorry.” He forces his fingers into the duvet to warm them, but he isn’t confident you’ll let him try again even if they were warm enough. His head in your lap was all he could get, apparently. All he could get without an apology. A proper apology.

Of course, his pride resurfaces then. He wants to be stubborn about it. You knew the city was important to him, that it was a priority. He’d hero’d away from plenty of dates to save the city from collapse and you’d always understood. Why was now any different?

But deep down, past the thorny pride and hunger and longing, is the truth: a burning city and patrol as usual were two very different things. Especially on February 14th. He’d fucked up.

When his fingers are significantly warm enough, he places both hands on your thighs, pressing his thumbs into the meat of them and rubbing in circles. He turns his head just in time to catch your eyebrow twitch, but otherwise, you continue to ignore him. He presses his chin into your stomach and hums against you. “Did you have fun?”

He sees you swallow, then smile. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t want them to leave.”

Something indignant pulls at his insides at that. “You should have them over more often.”

“It’s hard.” The hand that had been in his hair, that had shoved him away, rises and he thinks you might touch him again, but it floats past him to flip to the next page in your book. “The timing and all. I never know when you’re gonna be here or not.” And finally, finally, you look at him. Oh, you’re really pissed.

“I can… I can try—“

“Can you?”

Your tone stings, piercing him right between the ribs. He wants to burrow into you and hide, but instead he catches the whine rising in the back of his throat and shifts against the sheets. You watch him resist a squirm, but he knows you can feel his grip on your thighs getting stronger. You go back to reading your book.

With his heart beating fast against the mattress, Bruce groans low in his throat and drops his lips to your inner thigh, placing hurried kisses against your skin. He hears you call his name but he doesn’t respond, except maybe to spread his kisses to your navel, traveling across to the other thigh. Eventually, he feels your hand in his hair again, but it’s yanking him away from your skin and he is determined not to let you. He grabs your wrist and kisses that instead, traveling up to your elbow as he begins to crawl over you. It takes your thumb pressing into the bruise on his shoulder to shock him out of his stupor. He breaks away with a hot whine that he wouldn’t dare let anyone else hear. On good days, even you wouldn’t hear him making sounds like this. Looking gutted like this. He is well and truly fucked.

You grip his face in two hands, holding him far enough away that he can’t swoop in for a kiss again. He lets you manhandle him, falling against you with all his weight. “Say it or I’m going to bed.” His ego makes another appearance underneath the yearning. You must see the internal conflict because your eyes narrow. “You’re unbelievable—“

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, a little muffled from the way you’re squishing his cheeks together, “I shouldn’t have left.”

You hold, perhaps waiting for an excuse to follow, and that sours him even more. Welllllllll and truly fucked. “Yeah? Why not?”

His nose scrunches. “…I promised I wouldn’t be back late.”

“And what time is it now?”

His eyes flicker over to the clock on your bedside, reading back 3:20 in analog. “Late.”

You shift to holding his face with one hand, pressing your nails into the skin of his cheeks. The other hand goes for one of his bruises again and he only has the heart to writhe a little bit before you’re pressing on it. “And was it worth it?”

Bruce shakes his face from your grip, dropping his mouth to your shoulder to kiss (and bite, especially when you don’t stop digging into his bruise). His head is foggy with guilt and regret and the milk and honey of your earlier bath. He’s not usually this crass, but he hisses out a “hell no” that gets his feelings across just fine.

“It won’t happen again, will it?” That gives him pause. You feel him still against you. Forcing him back to see his face, you notice he struggles to hold your gaze. He’s making an attempt, you can tell, to think about it. “Bruce.” He looks at you helplessly. “Am I asking for too much?”

You’d told him time and time again that if he wanted this to work, an hour was what you needed. One hour, however he could fit it in. Tonight, he’d promised you that, and couldn’t even follow through.

You’re not asking this because you’re worried. He can hear the quiet threat underneath, the meaning that lines his veins with ice: that, if it was too much, there was only one solution.

Once upon a time, the answer would’ve been simple. His pride knows that, knows that’s why it rallied and roared even as it now weakly gives into you, curling into your palm. Domesticated. You’ve done something irreversible to him.

He’s sure you can see the moment he concedes, laying down his weapons at your feet, because you finally let up on his shoulder. You’re the one who swoops in for a kiss this time, taking his tongue into your mouth just as he settles fully above you. He feels something shut off in his brain, something that would have been gnawing at him until it reached bone before. It’s quiet. Sometimes, he forgets the numbing pleasure that giving into you offers until it warms his skin again.

[shyjusticewarrior]

Two things can be and are true at once.

Robin Jason was a sweet, kind kid who cared about victims. He also had righteous rage and violent tendencies towards those he thought deserved it.

Being Robin gave him magic and as Robin he shattered a man's collarbone with no remorse.

[pinkiemachine]

Hehehe…

[sunny-sourzii]

Guys you should totally let him out he is fellow human☺️☺️

[nina-s0]

"Don't read the same book twice, and expect a different ending."

Fuck off that's what fanfiction is for tf.

[ifoundyoufake]

I did the thing