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rosiestalez · 2 months ago

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One Swipe With Love

Battinson x teacher!f!reader

wc: 990

Summary: You take a shopping trip with Bruce’s card to stock up on your favorite things. You see him struggling to remove his makeup one morning, and you help him take it off. He does the same thing after a long day of work.

Warnings: None, pure tooth rotting fluff

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Bruce could never take off his eyeliner properly. He would rub his eyes raw with soap and water, and for some reason it wouldn’t come off with as much ease as yours did. He would borrow your eyeliner from time to time, the water proof stuff, and he thought that was issue. Yet, when it was time for bed he’d still have remnants of his batman eyeliner smeared on his eyes.

When you came home one afternoon with a Sephora bag he was quite intrigued by your purchases with his credit card.

“Hey baby!”, you speak loudly from the entry way, “I wanna show you everything!”, you kick off your shoes and make your way into the living area where Bruce is sitting watching the news. He turns to you muting the tv. You kiss his forehead before taking a spot next to him on the couch.

It always seems like you two are polar opposite, through energy, clothes, color, interests, but you two still seem to find a way to love each other. Today he’s wearing a basic black on black sweat suit, but you however an elementary schoolteacher was wearing your favorite white tennis skirt and a hot pink tank top for your day off. Your makeup was beautiful, and you decided to do a touch of eyeshadow for your shopping trip.

“Show me what you got baby”, a slight smile tugs at his lips. You smile widely dumping out the contents from the bag, “wow that’s a lot!”, his eyebrows rising, “which card was this on?”

“The Black Amex one”, you pause, “I think”, your smile still wide. He just sighs.

“Baby, you’re so lucky i love you”, you giggle at his response handing him the card from your purse, “Alright now show me everything!”, his voice lined with sarcastic cheer.

You go through all the products, what they’re used for and why you need them. He doesn’t quite understand it, but he loves seeing your face light up when you explain everything to him.

“Oh! and this! this is my FAVORITE, makeup remover. it’s like a balm and it’s old based it’s awesome! it even removes my eye liner!”, holding up a bottle of Fenty Cleansing Balm.

Bruce’s eyes light up, you said it “removes eyeliner?”

“mhmm! even my waterproof stuff, it’s great”, you smile.

“Do you think I could maybe try it soon? like tonight?”, he asks softly.

“oh! Of course my love!” nodding your head, “I can even show you how to use it!”, and with that a genuine smile plasters all over his face.

Later that night Bruce plants a kiss on your lips before he leave for patrol leaving you and Alfred alone in the Manor. You’re nestled under the covers of your shared bed reading one of your favorite books with a cup of tea by your side. He’s never here to share these moments with you like your coworkers partners, who sit with them while they grade papers or make lesson plans. For you, that’s okay, because during the day Bruce is by your side with lavish gifts, support, and during the school year he drops by the school once a week for storytelling. Finishing your chapter, you roll over pulling the string to the lamp and you close your eyes to sleep.

—-

Your alarm blares, and you hear Bruce walking into the room, ‘5:30 am’. You get out of bed to begin your morning routine, while Bruce begins his night routine. You meet him in the bathroom, and see him trying to take his makeup off. “Good morning Brucey”, you hum.

“Morning, love”, his voice husky.

“D’you need some help?”, you smile sleepily. He nods, you open the cabinet under the sink pulling out your makeup remover you baught yesterday. “okay, so this is how it works”, you squeeze out a bit from the tube emulsifying it in your hand before rubbing gentle circles around his eyes removing the black makeup slowly. You direct him to wash his face under water before taking micellar water to wipe away the rest. “There you go baby, all clean. are you headed off to bed?”

“For a little bit, i have to go through some evidence about the Riddler character.”

“Promise me you’ll sleep for at least three hours”, your voice sweet.

“yeah”, he says plainly mustering up a facetious smile. You stand up on your tip-toes and plant a kiss on his forehead before scooting him out the bathroom to shower.

—-

You were exhausted, the kids were obnoxious, the school smelled awful from whatever they were cooking in the cafeteria, and during morning work a kid puked seconds away from the bathroom door. It was truly one of your worse days as an educator and that’s saying a lot. You walk through the front door greeting Alfred, and planting yourself in the den enjoying the silence that you’ve been craving all day. You exhale deeply soaking up all the couch’s plush warmth.

“Babe?”, a voice can be heard from the door way, “you okay?”, Bruce asks.

“i’m okay, just a long day”, you smile lazily.

“Rough day?”

“Something like that”, you sit up on the couch and Bruce takes a seat beside you. He brings you into a cuddle hug, running his fingers through your hair. You move further into his embrace letting his motions relax your mind. “I need food ASAP, i’m starving.”

“Alfred is working on dinner”, his voice low, “want to take that makeup off?”

You nod simply before standing up and following him into the master bathroom. He ushers you to sit down on the closed toilet seat just as you did this morning to him. He pulls out your makeup remover from beneath the sink and follows the same steps you showed him earlier.

He gives a tender kiss on your forehead , “s’beautiful”, he compliments, you smile, reaching up to plant a kiss on his lips.

a/n: snack on this while we continue to wait for poll results:)!

#x reader #fanfic #marvel #dc comics #dc universe #dcu #dcu x reader #deadpool and wolverine #smut #angst #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #robert pattinson #battinson #batman x reader #batman fic #batman x you

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deliciousbasementtrash · 1 year ago

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Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. You are now a nurse for the entire Batfamily. You have to have lunch with your father. How will it go?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x Female!reader

Warning: Adult language, angst, physical and emotional abuse, panic attack

Word Count: 2.4k

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it

Masterlist

Part Seven: Lunch with a Devil

I was restless. It was only 10:30 and I had already restocked my entire responder inventory. I had already done my laundry, the dishes, mopped the floor, helped prepare dinner, and now I was on my hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor with a toothbrush. Whenever I stopped thoughts and anxiety filled my skull. I hadn’t decided if I was going to go to lunch. My father would be less than pleased if I didn’t go. But I was supposed to be free of that guilt. Free of him. So, why does it feel like every time he talks to me I’m that helpless little girl all over again? The one that walked on eggshells. The one who did everything she could to be a good daughter and not be a burden. The one that took the pain and the demands with a smile and a yes sir.

I’m not that girl anymore. At least… I thought I wasn’t. I scrubbed harder at an invisible speck of dust as the thoughts crowded my head.

“Miss y/l/n, I do believe every centimeter of this floor is spotless thanks to you. There is no need to further scrub.” Alfred said, standing above me. Slowly he bent down so that he was at eye level with me. He took the toothbrush out of my bandaged hand, shaking his head.

“Might I have a look?” He asked, nodding to my hands. In my anxious state, I hadn’t thought about the condition of them, or what I was putting them through. The second he grabbed them it was like my body remembered that I was in pain.

I stood up and nodded, giving him full view.

He patted the island chair, “Take a seat.” He slowly unbandaged them. They were red and swollen, some of the blisters had popped, and some had refilled. It wasn’t my cutest look.

Alfred diligently put on numbing cream and rebandaged them for me. We sat in comfortable silence as he did it. Both of us concentrated on what he was doing.

“May I ask a question about your gifts?” Alfred asked, gently.

Instantly, my body clammed up. I didn’t want to say anything, but I swallowed down that protective response and nodded.

“You can heal other people. Can you heal yourself?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “No, I can’t.” Suddenly I was bombarded by memories. Ones I try to keep down.

******************************************************************************************************************

Gotham City: 18 Years Ago

“Sit down, y/n,” my Dad said, patting the couch. I was hesitant as I walked over. I didn’t want to be close to him.

Slowly, I sat down. My body was tense, and I made sure my feet could sit touch the ground. I was not comfortable. I was ready to move. I was ready to run.

“Darling, have you heard of the Kleinian and Winnicottian psychotherapeutic theory?” My father asked, peering down at me like an owl.

I shook my head.

“Well, part of the theory believes that children think that they are an extension of their mother. Children have a difficult time in their infancy and toddler years defining what is their own body or their mothers. Does that make sense?” He asked, his voice falsely sweet. I knew that I should just play along. I didn’t understand, but I wanted Dad to be happy.

“I have a theory. If we can figure out how to make you heal yourself; you will learn how to heal your mother,” his words were frantic, his eyes bright. Some part of me wanted to run and hide. “Will you let me test my theory?” He asked.

Not knowing what else to do I just nodded. I wanted Mama to be better.

From his pocket, he pulls out a knife. My heart seizes at the sight of it. Quickly, so quickly, he trailed a cut along my thigh. Tears welled up in my eyes. It stung so badly. I didn’t like it. And the blood was getting on my favorite shoes. I frowned as I saw my blood run down my legs and stain them.

“Heal yourself.”

I tried. I really tried. But I couldn’t. My powers wouldn’t listen no matter how much I begged. Dad never liked that for an answer though.

So he cut.

And burned.

And stabbed.

Over and over. For years.

I never quite got it right. But that never stopped him from trying.

******************************************************************************************************************

I blinked away the memories that threatened to drown me. I don’t know if Alfred noticed the distant look in my eyes, but he quickly changed the topic.

“You have barely said a word all morning,” Alfred said, making an observation.

I knew this tactic. We used it in nursing. You state the obvious in hopes that the person elaborate and clarify if there is a reason.

“I’m not feeling very social today,” is what I landed on saying. I didn’t want to reveal too much to him. It was almost like he could read me like a book though.

“Why?” He asked, simply.

He looked at me with his wise empathetic Alfred eyes. All of a sudden I wanted to crumble. I wanted to tell him everything that went wrong in my life starting with day one. But that was irrational. That was that scared little girl with the bloody sneakers that broke free from time to time.

I cleared my throat and flattened my face of emotion, “I’m seeing my father today. Well… I actually have not decided if I’m going to go or not.”

Alfred gently patted my hands, signifying that he was done, they did feel a lot better. I mumbled a soft thank you, he nodded as if it was nothing.

“Your father, is he a good man?” I saw the cogs in Alfred’s head turning, deciding that this was the best question to ask.

“No. I wouldn’t say he is. But honestly, I don’t know if I have a definition of ‘good’ anymore.” My voice was smaller than I wanted it to be.

“I see. Miss, may I speak candidly?” Alfred asked, picking up a spoon and polishing it.

I swallowed, “You may.”

“It appears to me like you are dreading this lunch with your father. What service are you doing yourself if you go?”

I blink, trying to gather my thoughts. “If I also am speaking candidly, the service I would be doing for myself would be protecting myself.”

Alfred’s eyes narrowed, “In what way?”

I shook my head. I revealed too much. “Protecting myself from a positively boring time! I mean the man doesn’t even like Skip-Bo! Can you imagine, Alfred?”

“A truly horrific man I see.” His voice had a strange edge to it. One that I was unfamiliar with.

I laughed and muttered so quietly under my breath that he couldn’t hear, “Truly a horrific man.”

We didn’t say anything to each other after that. I politely excused myself and got ready for my hellish lunch plans.

******************************************************************************************************************

I arrived at lunch at exactly 12:30. Usually I was a meticulously early person, but this small action was a quiet rebellion.

My heart sank when I saw the back of my father. His leg bounced. He was annoyed. Wonderful.

“I would think that for your mother’s memory, you at least try to be more punctual.” He said, already snipping at me.

“Mkay.” I purposely dismissed him. A new fire lit beneath me. Suddenly I didn’t care about his petty little comments or his opinion at all.

I saw as he sat across from me; he was fully assessing me. Taking in every detail.

“Why are your hands bandaged?” He asked.

“Work accident.”

His eyes narrowed like he didn’t believe me. It didn’t really matter. I wasn’t technically lying.

“Do you ever feel guilty?” The question caught me so off guard I didn’t know what to do with it.

“Guilty?” I asked, clearly confused.

“That you could never figure out how to heal her.” He said the words as if they were special blows to my body.

“Yes of course I do,” I said.

“You don’t visit her grave. You don’t call. You don’t text. It’s like you never wanted to be a part of our family in the first place. Your mother would want us to be on good terms.”

I took a long breath in through my nose and roughly exhaled. “Do you want something? That’s usually when you try to use her to manipulate me.”

“Manipulate you! This is coming from the girl who would cry for my wife every time I tried to discipline her. You’re the manipulative ungrateful brat!”

I got up quickly. Leaving behind more cash than both our bills and tips combined. “Every time I give you a chance you show me who you are. I keep thinking there is more to you or that you will change. Well, newsflash, you’re not going to. I don’t need you in my life. I don’t want you in my life.”

Alongside the cash, I slapped down a court-ordered restraining order.

“Good riddance.”

I practically ran out of the restaurant. I didn’t wait to see his reaction. I quickly got into my car and drove off. Tears welled up in my eyes. Breathing became difficult. But I couldn’t stop. I didn’t know if he had men trailing me or not.

I tried my best to keep it together as I drove back to Wayne Manor. I kept it together as I walked in the door. I kept it together walking up the stairs. I kept it together as I shut my door behind me. But after that? I crumpled in on myself.

I sobbed until no tears came out and my chest hurt. I choked on the air, not being able to get enough. My mind couldn’t catch up with my body. I couldn’t get enough air in. It felt like my throat was closing. My fingers went cold and numb. Logically I knew I was having a panic attack. But I couldn’t calm myself down. I felt my heart pounding in my chest. My clothes became too tight. Helpless I started trying to take them off but I couldn’t they wouldn’t come off they were stuck to my body they would be there forever itching my skin until I couldn’t breathe and I died on the floor forever and ever and ever—

Strong hands gripped my face, “Breathe! Y/n breathe in! Like this,” Jason was laying on the floor with me, one hand on my chest the other on my face. He motioned inhaling in for five seconds and out for seven. In for five. Out for seven. The panic slightly eased but I still was trying to claw off my shirt. Once again I felt restricted and trapped. My breathing increased again. Jason grabbed both my hands with one of his and with his other hand he tore my shirt open.

Instantly I felt like I could breathe.

“That’s it. In and out. In and out. In and out,” he kept demonstrating for me until I had been steadily breathing for a few minutes. He just stayed with me for a while breathing with me. Our chests rose and fell together. I felt the warmth of his exhale against my cheek. It felt safe in that moment. Safer than I’ve felt for a long time.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, his voice small. Smaller than I thought possible.

Some part of me did but I didn’t think I was ready to reveal all of it yet. “I gave my dad a restraining order today.” I couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that rose in me. Soon I was snorting I was laughing so hard. “God, my life is such a joke!”

I felt Jason stiffen. He was surprised by this. Almost angry by this news. “Why? What shit did he do?”

I shook my head my laughter dying down. “Can we talk about something else right now? Please?”

Jason’s eyes darkened like he was remembering that piece of information for later. “I’m sorry for being a jackass last night. I get these nightmares and I get so confused and very hostile. I should have warned you not to try and help me.”

I shook my head, “It wouldn’t have mattered. I would have tried to help you anyway.”

Jason gave me a pained look and gently ran his thumb along the edge of my jaw. “Why are you so nice? Why are you so good?”

“Do you have a definition for good?” I asked, my voice suddenly husky, realizing how close we are and responding to his touch.

“No. I just think of you,” he said, almost a whisper.

I felt my cheeks heat, “Thank you for thinking that. I just don’t— you don’t know the things I’ve done. The people I’ve helped. It’s all gray, Jason. I promise if you find out more about me you won’t like it.”

“I sincerely doubt that.”

As if waking up from a trance Jason shot up. He tossed me a blanket, covering my exposed chest. He cleared his throat.

“So, we are even now. You barged in on me. I barged in on you. Even Steven, all set, no worries. Goodbye.”

Stunned into silence I watched as Jason left. What the fuck just happened?

******************************************************************************************************************

Jason was just getting to leave when he heard it. The worst sound he had ever heard in his life. The sounds of whimpering and choking sobs came from y/n’s room. Without another thought, he ran into her room. He found her lying on the floor, gasping for breath, and clawing at her own skin. He had to comfort her. He had to help. So he soothed the ways he had been soothed before. He stayed with her. He helped her in the ways he knew he could. But as if snapping back to reality, his promise to himself to stay away set in.

Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! The plan was to stay away from her not be her knight in shining armor! God, why the fuck can’t I stay away? I couldn’t stand hearing her cry or struggling to breathe. It was like something in me cracked open. I had no choice but to help her. Jason thought.

He threw on the red hood and stormed out of the house needing to regroup and blow off some steam. Maybe he would look into her father. But no that had to do with her. That’s off limits! Off limits, Todd! Off fucking limits! God, he needed to hit something.

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Hashbrown Cam!

Please let me know what you guys think! I love reading the comments <3

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theodorecanaryhood · 11 months ago

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Birdie

Arkham Knight/Red Hood/Jason Todd x Male! Reader

Commissioner Gordon had ordered a City wide evacuation, no civilian to be left - course the odd few stayed behind.

‘Sparrow, what’s your location?’ Batman ask through the comms.

He was roaring down the streets chasing down his next lead to this Arkham Knight, you stayed high up.

‘On top of Iceberg Lounge, Barbara called and needs help. I’m gonna head there now’ you said, grappling to the next building.

‘Robin is at GCPD, he will join the mission later, I need you to stay out of danger’ Batman said for the fourth time tonight.

You entered the clock tower which was used as Oracles base of operations, Barbara had been your friend for a few years now.

When she was Batgirl and you were protege to Selina Kyle, though you liked being good more and Bruce needed extra help since Dick left.

‘Y/n, that you?’ Barbara called out, you walked into the room. Not losing the cowl yet.

‘Yeah sweetness, it’s me’ you smiled, handing Barbara the Chinese food you picked up on the way.

‘Thank God, I forgot to eat’ Barbara chuckled as she took the food from you.

‘I noticed’ you chuckled too, looking at the screens.

The Arkham Knight was causing mayhem but no one knew who he was, you theorised it might be someone personal as he knows Bruce is Batman. But, there were no other details other than he’s military.

‘We ever consider Tim for this Knight character?’ You asked serious as Barbara looked at you.

‘My Tim? No way’ she laughed, picking up her chopsticks and beginning to eat.

‘I’m serious Babs, he could be, he’s never around whenever we go up against the Knight’ you spoke with reason.

Barbara shrugged a little as she looked back at the monitors, you heard a noise in the distance but couldn’t work out what it was.

Batman suddenly appeared on the screen with urgency, panic in his eyes as he called out to Barbara.

‘Oracle, get out of there, now’ Batman called through the speaker.

‘Relax B, no one knows I’m here’ suddenly the power was cut and before you knew it someone had hit you over the back of the head.

It went black for a good space of time, in which you had no recollection of what happened. You just knew you were waking up when your head started to thump.

‘Leave him, he won’t be trouble. If he knows what’s good for him’ you heard a voice, modulated and dark.

You felt a little fear but Bruce always told you to disregard your fears when around an enemy. They’ll sense it and prey on you.

‘Well, hello Birdie’ the Knight said as he pulled the sack off your head.

You weren’t wearing your cowl anymore so he could see your face clearly.

‘What have you done to Barbara?’ You demanded as the Knight laughed, kneeling in front of you.

‘She’s fine, in another room. So what’s your story Handsome?’ He asked as he touched your knee.

You jerked your leg away from his reach as he stood up, his voice being heard even when muttering under his breath.

‘I see how it is Birdie, well, I’ll leave you a little longer and come back later when you’re ready to cooperate’ the Knight said as he left the room.

You didn’t know how long it had been since the Knight last paid you a visit, but you were still alone in the room.

A few Militia members came into the room, you went to throw a punch but were tased and out in a second.

You woke up soon after in a different room, just you and the Knight. Who was now standing in front of you.

‘Hello again Birdie’ he chuckled as you stood up and found your wrist shackled to the wall.

‘Where the fuck am I? What do you want?’ You asked, face as threatening as you could make it.

‘Where’s Batman?’ The Knight asked you, completely ignoring your question.

‘Looking for you’ you looked to the door as you spotted a shadow walking passed.

You calculated in your head it would take roughly 30 seconds to make it to the door from where you were, yet, you would need to find a way to get out of the shackles and passed the Knight.

You suddenly lifted your arms up in front of your face as the Knight came toward you, his hand in front of him.

‘I’m not going to hurt you Birdie, I’m gonna undo your shackles. If you run, I’ll have to hold you down’ The Knight said as he revealed the key in his hand.

You obeyed orders and allowed the Knight to release you, he held your arm as he took you to another room.

This from was dimly lit as you saw four Militia members stand guard with their guns.

‘Hold him until I tell you, well let him go once Batman is dealt with’ Knight said as he left you in the room with the men.

You found yourself tied to the chair as they stood and looked on, readjusting their aims every time you looked like you were about to move.

It has been at least an hour by now, the Knight hadn’t come back yet and you were getting impatient.

Bruce has to be nearby surely, but you needed to find Barbara first. You watched the room and saw two of the men were further away from you, one with their back turned.

You could catch them off guard, but you would need to be quick. Though you were tired, adrenaline would need to take over.

‘I don’t like the way he’s looking at me’ one Militia member said, you didn’t let go of your eye contact.

‘Just ignore him, he doesn’t have any power’ another one responded.

You counted down in your head that you could potentially knock them down on 30 seconds or so, though it would need to be relying on speed and accuracy.

The biggest member got closer to you with his gun in your face, smiling devilishly.

‘Something you want to share?’ He asked trying to seem threatening.

You swing your leg up and kicked him in the thigh, knocking him off guard.

You rose to your feet and have a hard head butt, swinging your back, still being tied to the chair, knocking another member over.

You threw yourself on the ground and broke the chair, grabbing a gun and shooting all four Militia men in the arms, legs or shoulders.

You managed to get the door open, thankfully it wasn’t locked, going to the room you were sure Barbara was in. Seeing she isn’t there, you panicked.

‘Birdie?’ The Knight almost whispered as you saw he was standing. You couldn’t see, but for some reason you knew he was smiling under the mask.

‘Your men suck’ you mocked, lifting the stolen gun in your hand, pointing it at the Knight.

‘You’re outta Ammo’ he chuckled as you pulled the trigger, hearing a click.

The Knight came forward and hit you over the head, making it all go black.

Time seemed to stop for a while as you woke up to daylight, Dick and Tim sitting next to you as you found yourself in a hospital bed.

‘Where am I?’ You mumbled as the two rushed to your side.

‘Gotham General, don’t try and move too much’ Tim said softly, placing his hand on the top of your head.

Barbara?’ You asked, Tim smiled and nodded, answering with no words to let you know she’s fine.

‘Scarecrow?’

‘Arkham, he’ll be there a while. The Knight took off, no one can find him. But I’ll take that as a good thing’ Dick stood near your feet.

‘Where’s Bruce?’ You asked, Dick looked down as Tim teared up a little.

‘He was revealed as Batman, him and Alfred were in the Manor when they released the Knighfall Protocol’ Tim choked a little, you were stunned.

You’d heard of the Knightfall Protocol, but you’d hoped that Bruce would never have to use it.

After grieving and working as a solo act for a while, you’d found yourself coming across the plans of Black Mask.

You’d got to his source of latest crime, the location being not too difficult to find alone.

You walked around to find his men down, some shot or necks snapped. You saw the leftovers of the massacre, only to hear talking in the distance.

Going into a room where you found Black Mask being held up against the window by a man in a mask.

You gasped as you saw Black Mask get kicked out the window, falling to his death.

‘Say hi to Joker for me’ The masked man said, he turned and stood still when he saw you looking at the outcome.

‘Way to make a statement’ you said with a small smile.

The stranger said nothing as he picked up a bag, putting his guns back in the holsters.

‘Do you have a name?’ You asked, the new guy simply nodded.

‘Red Hood’

‘You need help? I’ve found myself working alone since the Bats left’ Red Hood shook his head, placing the bag on his shoulder.

‘I work alone, but thanks for the offer’

You stood deciding on what to do next now that Sionis is taken care of.

‘It’s good seeing you again, Birdie’ Red Hood said as you turned around to look at him.

The suit, the build, the violence and the tone of anger in his voice. It made sense.

‘Knight?’ Was all you got out before Red Hood grappled out of the building.

Gotham City lights were always beautiful to look upon from the rooftops, it had been weeks since the takedown of Black Mask.

‘You’re not an easy man to track down’ you announced yourself to Red Hood. He simply turned around to look at you, then continued on what he was doing.

‘I don’t need a partner Birdie’ he said lowly as you approached.

‘I know, but it would be nice to have friends. Batman is gone, Robin retired and Nightwing went back to Bludhaven. There aren’t many of us left now’ you revealed.

Red Hood scoffed, looking at you as he took off his mask.

‘Us Batboys have gotta stick together huh?’

‘Jason? Jason Todd?’ You asked in disbelief, Jason nodded.

‘In the flesh’

It was this moment that had you thinking that life was in a way, turning in the right direction. You’d only ever heard of Jason, and just that Bruce lost his second son.

Gotham City was under the control of the two of you, and you could both help clean the streets.

You both looked upon the city in a comfortable silence, as you both realised you had the city to yourselves.

#red hood #gotham #red hood fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd #red hood x male reader #jason todd x male reader #arkham knight x male reader #arkham knight x reader #the arkham knight

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rhysintherain · 1 year ago

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Finally watched Honor Among Thieves.

Here's how I picture the players:

Holga: straight guy in his 50s. Very sweet and supportive, but if you leave him unattended for 5 minutes he'll start explaining in detail how to maintain lawn equipment to an unprepared waitress. Character voice sounds like batman.

Ed: in his 30s. Bisexual. Defining personality trait is how much he loves his wife. Probably in a band that plays a gig once every 2 years. Ed's an extremely obvious self-insert, but nobody's gonna complain because he's having so much fun.

Doric: lesbian in her late 20s. Always smiling. Very invested in her edgy baby getting a happily ever after. Has only ever played fighters and rogues before and somehow manages to use wild shape 345 times per session.

Simon: the one in the friend group who has their shit together. Has a real, grownup job. Enjoying Simon's mediocrity immensely. Asks the DM if they can reroll their 18 because a crit fail would be really funny here. Thinks straight characters pining pathetically are cute.

Bonus: The DM: Ed's player's wife. The fact that he killed her off in-universe is directly connected to his character starting the game in prison, even though she mostly thinks it's funny. Uses Yendar to troll her husband ('what if you're dead wife doesn't wanna come back, huh? What if she's HAPPIER wherever she is now? Did you think of that, asshole??') and he gives as good as he gets ('there he goes walking away, in a really straight line. Oh no, is he gonna go around that rock? Nope, right over it'). Had to be bribed back to the table with beer and snacks after Simon stepped on the bridge. Her husband 100% screamed 'that's my WIFE!!!' loud enough to wake the neighbors when Yendar killed the dragon.

Bonus bonus: Kira as herself: but only when the players manage to schedule sessions before her bedtime. Towards the end of the campaign she negotiates the bedtime back an hour so she can play the big bad disguised as her. Her dad is horrified. Her mom thinks it's hilarious.

#dnd: honor among thieves #actually a very fun movie #love how you could almost hear the players rolling nat 1s in the background

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justjensenanddean · 1 year ago

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Jensen Ackles Solo Panel | JIBCon 2023 (June 17, 2023)

(NuttyForAckles)

Jensen was headbanging to Smells Like Teen Spirit with Jason, then mentioned that he has that "writer‘s strike hair flow". (x)

jensen will be at the monday concert (x)

‘Take the guitar away, I’ll just sing on Monday!’ (x)

Monday‘s band will be called "No Rob". (x)

Jensen has always wanted to go to Brazil. But when he finally got there, they had so much work to do that he had to stay in the hotel and he never left. He didn’t get to meet locals or see anything. In his mind he hasn’t been there yet. (x)

His prep for Beau Arlen & Ben? Since he didn’t have the history he had with Dean, he had to dig into personal feelings. (x)

Jensen has a major short term memory to learn lines but his long term memory isn’t as good. He has intense scenes and then purges the feelings. (x)

As Beau, he took what he’d feel if the things were happening to his daughter and then tailored it a bit. A lot of Dean was him. As Soldier Boy, for the scene with Butcher about his dad, he dove into Dean and John, because he has a good relationship with his dad. (x)

And in the end he just pretended. Some people can do it and some can’t. Some can paint, some can write, some can do Math. He can’t draw a stick figure, but he can *play* (x)

Dean and Soldier Boy were both just looking for their father’s approval. Jensen jokes that he wondered if he was being type cast. Ben had an opportunity to make it better with his son & grandson, but in the end he reverted back to his DNA. (x)

jensen said that for emotional scene he filmed for soldier boy (about soldier boy's father) he leaned into dean's relationship with john (because jensen has good rs with his own father) (x) he joked about getting type casted for characters with basically daddy issues (x)

Jensen and Jared have both been invited to Hot Ones and wanted to do it years ago, but they couldn’t work it out. And now they have stars so big, he probably won’t get invited anymore. (x)

someone asked about the rumors about batman and jensen was like “i don’t know” “even i know about it i’m not telling you” and he started laugh. (x)

What about being in a top 3 list to play Batman? He doesn’t know, but even if he would know, he wouldn’t tell us. Could he do it? Sure. Does he want to? Yes. (x)

‘When I’m Batman, does my voice have to be… much different?’ (x)

Musical interruption. Jensen is confused and wants to keep answering questions. (x)

The music indicated that he had to spin the wheel. It lands on “drink” and he hugs the wheel, “it’s like it knows me”. He doesn’t actually pour one though but goes back to answering. (x)

(NuttyForAckles)

There were many scenes surrounding the Impala where Jensen had to become Dean and he’d yell at the team when they were driving it or when Jared banged against the car or fart in it. “Not on the seat, she’s been through enough.” So he knew he had to own the car. (x)

One of his old friends got offered Eric Brady on DooL and he called Jensen before accepting. Jensen said “great, knock it out of the park.” (x)

Apparently Mr Rhodes, his first job, was a multicamera sitcom. It was the best schedule he’s been on so far. Soap Opera is next because they have 40+ actors. They will shoot all 80 pages his character has consecutively, shoot an hour or two. They produce one episode in 1hr (x)

You start by 9 am and get a few short breaks, end of the day, 7:30 pm, 80 pages done and he can go home. Daytime actors don’t get enough credit for having to jam in so much story in a short time. On The Boys they get 15 days for 1 episode. (8 on SPN). (x)

One of the actresses on DooL told him first day „hit your mark, say your lines, stay out of my light“. He said „yes ma’am“, earned her respect and she took care of him big time later. (x)

When he went to lunch with Alison Sweeney, who played his evil twin sister, she got heckled and Jensen defended her immediately. She told him to stop because if people hate her, that means she‘s doing her job. (x)

Rich tells us that Jensen is a sitcom and he has his own catchphrase. He plays Jensen entering the set at morning or any room late. "What are we doing?" He has developed a special greeting with Richard out of it. (x)

(NuttyForAckles)

Jensen spend several birthdays in Brad Creasser‘s house, with his wife cooking him dinner. He‘s a good friend of Richard‘s too. Rich acts out a scene on set one day and Jensen is in tears. (x)

When Jensen walked on set of Big Sky, he also went "What are we doing?" Nobody answered, so he repeated it louder. (x)

(Julie_Fleming)

#Jensen Ackles #JIB13 #JIBCon2023 2 #Jensen: Panel Highlights #*

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phantom-dc · 1 year ago

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Jason is 19 years old.

He wakes up, startled by his phone. As he reaches for his phone, he tries to remember his dream. They always slip away. He understands the green swirls, that awful Lazarus color. But there are things floating around in there, that he can never remember. Picking up, he is greeted a familiar voice. Dick tells him they found a cult that had been kidnapping people and they are going to sacrifice someone tonight. Normally they can handle those, but since it’s technically in Red Hood’s area he decided to call. Jason sighs and tells him to send him the address, he’ll be there in 10. He knows that the Bats could handle a bunch of weirdo’s in robes, but if he lets them work in his territory without him, they might try to barge in more often. Can’t have that. It wasn’t that long ago they settled on their truce, but that doesn’t mean Jason was ready to become part of the family again, and giving them an excuse to come over more was out of the question. He puts on his uniform and helmet and leaves. The faster he can get this over with the better.

When he gets there he wasn’t expecting this. He had thought it’d be 5 guys with cheap candles and too much free time, but these guys were a bit more organized. About 30 of them, and all carrying blades. They had about 10 young women ready as sacrifices. That’s probably where they’re going to get the blood for the summoning circle from. Luckily they don’t seem hurt yet. Red Hood joined the fight, taking out a cultist by landing on him. Knocking another one unconscious, he sees Nightwing doing a flip and kick 2 cultists in the face. Extra fucker, you don’t need to do so many flips, you know. Or is he trying to show off for the girls? Nah, knowing him he just liked showing off in general. He rips the blade out a cultist’s hand and stabs him with it, before pulling it out and doing the same to 2 more. He spots Batman, who is throwing Batarangs at another group that tries to run away. He notices his disappointed glare. Well, Bruce can shove it. He didn’t even stab them that badly! If they get medical care they’ll probably survive. Jason gets closer to the middle of the room. As he breaks a cultist’s arm, he spots Red Robin. He is protecting the girls. Jason is caught off guard. He didn’t expect Tim to be here. Not after he went way too far. Tim probably thought Jason was trying to kill him back then. He really hadn’t been though, he just wanted to scare Tim off being Robin. But with the Lazarus still clouding his thoughts he’d gone overboard…

Suddenly Jason felt a pain on his neck. While he got distracted one of the cultists had managed to nick him right where the armor and his helmet met. A weak spot, Jason thought as he kicked the cultist away. Something to remember for the next armor. Behind him, his blood hit the summoning circle. A green glow gets everyone’s attention. The remaining cultists cheer. The circle worked! Their God would make them immortal! Jason wasn’t paying attention to them, stepping away from the circle that had started to bubble in the middle. Batman started barking orders, prompting Red Robin to save the hostages and Nightwing to start rounding up the remaining cultists. Batman himself seemed to be trying to call someone on his communicator. Who the hell could Bruce know that could help with this?

Suddenly a huge, white, clawed hand bursts from the circle, planting itself on the ground next to it, before a second hand, this one wearing a dark ring, did the same. As the ceiling impossibly becomes a night sky, a large black mass tries to pull itself out of the ground, as Jason hears Batman say something about the circle not having a shield. That can’t be good. The mass pulls itself from the ground, revealing a white-haired head, wearing a crown that immediately spreads a green/blue borealis around itself. Was the warehouse they were in always this tall? No, reality had warped just to accommodate this being’s size! Nightwing said it hurt to look at it, which confused Jason. He had no trouble with that. It opens its maw, and an icy fog escaped. It looked around, full green eyes scanning the room. Fearing it would notice the hostages, Jason did something he’d consider very stupid later. He yelled: HEY! It immediately got the being’s attention, lowering its head to get a closer look at Red Hood. It doesn’t move its maw, yet it speaks: You feel… familiar.

It brings it’s claw closer to Jason, in a manner that reminds Jason of a curious child. That doesn’t make him feel any better though. As the claw comes closer, it feels like time is slowing down. Jason can’t bring himself to move. Right before it can make contact, it is suddenly pulled away. Jason vaguely hears Batman reciting something from his communicator, as the being is sucked back down the circle. When it disappears, the warehouse returns to normal again. Batman thanks a ‘Constantine’ over his communicator. Red Robin reports to Batman the hostages are safe, and Nightwing reports that the police is here to arrest the cultists. Batman nods, before turning to Jason. He asks if he is alright, snapping Jason out of is daze. He tells Batman that he can handle himself, and that he is out of here. As he leaves, Nightwing mentions he didn’t cuss at them. That’s good!

At home Jason flops down on his bed. That had been way too intense. He felt like that being was trying to look straight into his soul. As he tries to fall asleep, one thing keeps him awake: It had called him familiar, and for some reason, Jason agreed. That being was familiar.

First - Previous - Next - AO3

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dc x dp #dp x dc #red hood #jason todd #batman #dead on main

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faiya9996 · 6 months ago

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Back with another Batman and Animated Series Rant. (Mention of mild spoilers for episode 18)

So, there's an Episode called Beware of the Gray Ghost. The whole episode is about an Actor called Simon Trent who back in his time, about when Bruce was a kid so about 30 years ago.

Throughout the episode it shows Bruce watching the show as a kid with his dad and he even mentions how much of an idol and role model the Gray Ghost was to him as a kid. The guy that was voice acting for Simon Trent sounded really familiar to me.

I looked it up.

It was fucking Adam West. The same Adam West who played Batman 30 years beforehand.

All of a sudden, I realised this episode is not only just about Bruce's idol as a kid growing up, but it's basically a torch passing from one Batman to another, aka Adam West to Kevin Conroy. Even throughout the episode Batman mentions to Simon Trent how much of an inspiriation he was to him, how much he shaped the person he is today, How one Batman shapes the path for another. Not gonna lie when I realised this, I cried. Why? Because I don't think Kevin Conroy really got the opportunity to pass along the torch to another Batman before his passing.

Sure Terry Mcginnis might count, but that was around the same time period as Batman the Animated Series and Batman Beyond whcih hasn't been continued as a show (due to a certain group who cancelled a Batman Beyond Movie, yes I'm still very much pissed at that) and Terry has been used little to non in animated or cinematic media.

The guy who did play Terry, Tim Friedle whoisn't that known has done some voice acting for Batman lego stuff and other kids shows, but hasn't gained the same attention as Conroy or West.

Anyways go watch Batman The Animated Series if you haven't, it's on Netflix and definetly worth all 65 episodes.

#batman #dc #dc universe #bruce wayne #kevin conroy #adam west #batman the animated series #terry mcginnis #batman beyond #gotham

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hollandorks · 2 years ago

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transcendent -- motn oneshot

battinson!bruce wayne x f!reader

a/n: Hi! Long time no see! In honor of motn's one year birthday/ anniversary (I first posted on March 21, 2022), I decided to give you guys a little treat...without further ado, here's (most of) ch. 30 from Bruce's POV. I'm using the taglist from the last chapter of sitn, so let me know if you want me to remove your tag!

***this chapter is NSFW. 18+***

Series Masterlist

word count: 5670

Bruce was drowning himself in the Batman.

He couldn’t stop seeing the blade slide into the soft flesh of y/n’s stomach. Even before that, he’d gotten her beaten and stabbed and drugged and kidnapped–he was no good for her.

He craved her warmth, her company, more than anything, but he was a danger to her. She had almost died because of him.

So he stayed away, a punishment for himself and protection for her.

Working had always been his solace, so work he did. Every night he threw himself into the protection of Gotham and its citizens, even when he hadn’t slept in two days, when he hadn’t eaten in hours. He absorbed the blows of criminals like they were his own punishment. The pain kept him awake, kept him grounded…

Kept him away from her.

Alfred’s words still haunted him. Every time his eyes closed for a second, he heard the words. You deserve someone like her. You are good enough for her.

But he wasn’t good enough for her. Not even close.

Bruce took a deep breath in through his nose and held it, then went back to documenting his night in the Gotham Project journal before him. He ignored the mess around him. He’d set everything back up…eventually. Right now all he needed was the one table and computer. Everything else could wait.

A flash of memory–pain and guilt and so much anger–and he pushed it away.

The elevator started rattling its way upwards. He ignored it like everything else and kept writing. Probably Alfred, coming to chastise him some more. He deserved it.

He barely felt the chill in the air against the bare skin of his chest as he wrote. It felt good. It kept him awake. He needed to stay awake, because sleeping was dangerous.

When he slept, there was only blood and pain and death.

The elevator doors slid open.

“Bruce.” It took everything in him not to respond to her voice. If he ignored her she’d leave him alone. At least, he hoped. He kept writing as the video feed from his night played on. But of course she wasn’t deterred. “If you don’t talk to me I’m going to–I don’t know, put itching powder in your armor. Paint your mask pink. I don’t know! Look at me.”

He let out a breath of a laugh. He couldn’t help it. He briefly imagined her, frown on her face, sitting cross legged painting his mask pink, a smudge of paint marring her cheekbone.

She stomped closer to him and took him off guard by shoving him. Hard. His instincts kept him still, body absorbing the movement like it was nothing.

He took another slow inhale, then turned and paused the video.

He was a plant turning to face the sun after days of rain. He was drawn to her, to her warmth, her light. It was an impulse, an act of nature, something he couldn’t control unless he really tried. She was the brightest spot in the dim underground, the warmest thing for miles.

But Bruce kept his face cold, distant, as if the sun didn’t exist near him.

“If you don’t stop brooding, so help me–” She paused, eyebrows drawn together like she couldn’t think of another serious threat as bad as itching powder or pink masks. She pressed her hand flat against his sternum. Her touch was searing hot, almost uncomfortably so. He grabbed her wrist but couldn’t bring himself to push her away. He needed her touch like oxygen, and his body knew it.

“You can’t avoid me forever. I’m not quitting my job until you talk to me.”

His eyes narrowed as his heart stopped. “You’re still quitting?” he said, when really he wanted to shout, No!

“He speaks!” she said with a little twist to her lips, something like pride in her features. “I promised I would. But not until you stop being so–so–I don’t know, broody. I already told you I wouldn’t let you shut me out. I gave you time. Too much time.”

He still held her wrist. “I’m not brooding.” He let her go as if burned and turned back to the screen. He pressed play so he could go back to documenting his night. “I’m working.” She was too close to him. He needed her closer. He needed her to go. He needed her to stay. He needed–he had no idea what he needed, only that what he wanted and what was best were two completely different things.

She reached around him and smacked the button so the video stopped again. She shoved herself between him and the screen, forcing him back a few steps. The warmth of her was like a flare in the night. Her sudden invasion of his space took him off guard.

“You’re brooding, and it’s because you almost killed me.”

He couldn’t help his flinch, the words landing like a physical blow. He’d been doing–not well at ignoring it, exactly, but he’d been able to ignore it some. There had been so much blood, blood that still stained his hands–

“Go ahead,” she said, interrupting the memory. “Feel bad about it. It sucked. Is that what you want? Me to never forgive you? Me to hate you? To call you a bad man? A murderer?”

His breath came in panicked gasps. This was what he deserved but it still hurt. It ached. She wouldn’t let up, each of her words landing with such precision he half-expected to see blood blooming from his bare chest. She poked him right in one of the sore spots. Her eyes flashed. “Fine. You’re an asshole, I hate you, and I wish you would die.”

The pain of the words washed over him. He trembled even as his eyes narrowed. He knew her. She was going to make a point with all of this, he knew she would. But there was still that small part of him in the back of his mind that let the words hurt.

“Oh, is that not what you wanted to hear?” she continued scathingly. Her voice was pitched higher than normal and she was breathing just as heavily as he was. “Fine, how about the truth? It wasn’t your fault. There’s nothing to forgive. There never will be. I don’t hate you, so you can’t hate yourself. In fact, you big, dumb, stubborn asshole, I still love you.”

The words dropped like stones within him. He opened his mouth even as she glared. He didn’t know what he was going to say–that he loved her, that she shouldn’t love him, to leave him alone, that he wanted to kiss her. Before he could speak, she was jabbing her sharp little finger into his chest again.

“No! I’m not done. Since you’re finally listening. I don’t care if you–if you feel differently. If you see me as a friend. Or as just an employee. Batman’s partner. I don’t care! Even if it’s–fucking crazy! Because I’m in love with you, and I want you to know that you are still worth being loved. I don’t care what you’ve done. You’re a good man. Nothing will change that in my eyes. Do you get that? Nothing. You fucking stabbed me and almost killed me and I still fucking love you!” A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye and over the apple of her cheek. She swiped at it quickly, still glaring, still breathing hard.

I still fucking love you.

Bruce shoved away from her. His hands shook as he ran them through his hair.

The words were too big. Too much. The love he felt for her was overwhelming, especially since it was destroying her. He was dangerous, and he would get her killed sooner or later. He’d been lucky that she hadn’t died, that he hadn’t killed her. But there would always be another chance for that, if she stayed close. If he let her in. If he let her love him, he would get her killed.

Everyone he loved ended up dead, after all. Just look at his parents.

He walked over to his motorcycle, still on its side from his fit of rage weeks ago, and righted it just to have something to do with his shaking hands.

He had to make her see. She had to understand how dangerous a thing like his love would be. How dangerous it already was. “I almost killed you. I almost killed you.” The words were blades as they ripped from his throat.

He blinked, and she was in front of him. Her hands were blazing hot as she put them on either side of his face.

“I don’t care,” she said fiercely, the words utterly convicted. “It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t you.”

“I’m not a good man, y/n,” he whispered. To his horror, a tear fell from his eyes. He loved her so much, and she loved him, but the universe was cruel and had already tried taking her from him too many times. It was for the best that he stayed away, that he pushed her away.

“You are,” she said. “In your heart, you’re a good man. Even good men do bad things sometimes.”

The hope, the love, shining on her face was too much. “You don’t get it. I’m–I’m no good for you. You deserve someone who is good. Not someone made for the shadows. Not someone…angry like I am. Someone who won’t put you in–”

“Stop it!” she said sharply. She grabbed his face again. “Look at me.” Reluctantly, he did. “I have seen the darkest parts of you, Bruce Wayne. And I am not afraid. I have seen the worst parts of you and I am still right here. I’m angry too. I’m–I have been just as complicit as you have in all of this. I killed James Maxwell. I–”

He shook his head vehemently as he closed his eyes against the onslaught of memories. “No,” he said. “You’re not like me at all, y/n. You’re too good.” Even the darkest parts of her were brighter than the lightest parts of him. He was made of shadows, made to stay in them, made to stay out of the light. And she was the sun, trying to burn those shadows away. But there was no light without shadows, and he could never be the brightness she deserved. Not ever.

“I love you,” she said. “Every part of you. I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way about me, I want you to know that. You make me feel safe. I love every part of you. ”

He shuddered at the weight of the words. “You shouldn’t.”

“When have I ever listened to you?” she asked with a small smile. His mouth twisted. Never. She’d never listened to him, and he loved her for it. “I love you, even though you’re impossible. And stubborn. You have to stop blaming yourself. I’m alive.”

“Don’t you get it?” he said. His voice broke on the words. “Don’t you see? I love you and I almost killed you.” His hands pressed flat against her back. He shook against her. He was coming apart at the seams, all of his grief and darkness pouring from him in a wave. Didn’t she see? “All these people I’ve been trying to save, and I would have let all of them die if it meant saving you.”

She stared up at him for a beat, mouth parted in surprise.

And then she kissed him.

It was a reflex to kiss her back, a starving man confronted with a feast for the first time. Her lips tasted like salt and he couldn’t tell if they were his tears or hers. He pressed her against the work table, hungry for more, his fingers spreading against her ribcage and her back, trapping her against him. Her warmth completely stole the chill from the air and he almost groaned into her mouth at the sensation.

She made a soft noise and his mind went hurtling back to her on the floor beneath him, black dress wet with blood, her eyes on his as she told him she loved him even as his blade tried to steal her life.

He pulled away, the memory turning the salt on his tongue metallic like blood. “I can’t,” he whispered, anguished. “Every time I look at you, I see your blood on my hands. I can’t do this.”

But oh, how he wanted to. How he needed to.

He forced himself to go to the elevator and make his way upstairs. A shower–a cold shower. Then he could go back to work. Maybe he’d even go sleep at the signal tower. He couldn’t be near her, couldn’t corrupt her anymore, couldn’t be confronted with the blood on his hands anymore. Her blood. His blade.

His body went on autopilot like it had so many other times in the past weeks. Alfred would probably call it a defense mechanism.

He shed his boots inside his bedroom then went for the makeup wipes he had stashed everywhere. He let his mind go blank. He couldn’t–wouldn’t–think about what y/n said.

But of course she wasn’t giving up. She appeared in the doorway to his bedroom within a minute. He loved that about her, he always had, but at that moment all he wanted to do was hide like a child under his blankets and not come out for anything.

“Bruce,” she said. He pointedly turned away from her. “Bruce, you can’t just–”

“Please,” he said, voice cracking. “I can’t do this. Not now.”

She stepped up to him and once again placed a hand on his bare chest. She traced one of his scars. Physical proof of his anger, his violence, his darkness.

“I don’t care. Please look at me.”

After a long moment, he murmured her name. It was all he could manage. He was scraped raw inside, every nerve and every emotion laid bare.

“Look at me,” she said. “I’m alive. There’s no blood on your hands. There’s nothing I need to forgive you for.” He looked down at her. Her expression was still fierce, still convicted. “I can’t believe you almost killed me and didn’t tell me all of this sooner, you fucking jerk.”

He let out a soft noise but didn’t smile. “I’m no good for you,” he said again. But he could feel himself losing the fight. Her proximity was a heady drug, and he craved it, just like he craved the love she was so desperately trying to give him.

“Bruce, I killed a man.” Something flashed across her face that looked a lot like guilt. Bruce wanted to take the feeling away from her, to carry it for her, to make sure she never felt it again. “I killed a man to save you,” she said again. “And here you are, beating yourself up over almost killing me when it wasn’t even your fault. If anything, I’m no good for you.”

He pulled her closer and breathed her in. “I don’t care,” he said. “I should care, but I don’t. Not when it’s–not when it’s you.”

“Don’t you get it, then?” she said softly. The love in her eyes was so intense it was a physical caress against his face. He unconsciously leaned into it. “That’s what I feel about you. I don’t care about any of it.”

He saw how clearly she meant it. She didn’t care. He tried not to let the hope take him over, but it crested on a wave and threatened to pull him under. “I’m sorry,” he finally managed to say. Sorry for hurting her, sorry for doubting her, sorry for loving her, sorry for all of it.

But there she still was, patiently waiting on him. She was stubborn, even when it came to matters of the heart. He stared at her in wonder. She loved him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Except for maybe not telling me that you loved me sooner.” She gave him the lightest of kisses and then closed her eyes. Her next words were uncertain. “Do you mean it? Because I’m going to be so pissed off if you don’t.”

He huffed a laugh and then groaned. “Yes.”

And this time he let himself give in. He let himself trust her. She was so much stronger than he realized, so he let himself fall into her, into loving her. She could hold him. She could carry the weight.

Her kiss seared through him. He groaned into her mouth, and then again as her hands started exploring his bare back and chest. Her touch lit him from within. He expected to open his eyes and see flames. It was overwhelming, the love and desire he felt for her. He had never felt this way for anyone. He had never expected to feel it, either.

He pulled away with his eyes still closed. He rested his forehead on hers and simply breathed her in. “Every time you touch me, it’s like–like I’m on fire,” he said softly. “It’s too much. It’s not enough.”

Her hands stilled their exploration and rested on his back. “I thought you didn’t want me, all those times you didn’t want me to touch you,” she said. “But I couldn’t make myself stop wanting you.”

“I never said I didn’t want you,” he said. He kissed her again to prove his point. “That night you first kissed me–” He groaned as her hands slid up over his ribs and around his neck. Tangled in his hair. He couldn’t think with her touching him like that. “–I wanted it to be your choice, wholly your choice. Not because you were upset at work, or because you were drunk. I have never stopped wanting you.”

Instead of responding, y/n kissed him again like she was desperate. Like she was afraid he’d walk away again. The fire in his blood built into an inferno.

“Touch me, Bruce Wayne,” she murmured against his lips. Those goddamn words, he thought hazily as he moaned and backed her up to the edge of the bed. He had never known desire like this. He lifted her so her legs would wrap around him and their bodies nestled together perfectly. He knew she could feel his hardness pressing against her. Her eyes were blown wide with desire, which only built the fire within him further.

“I love you,” she said as his lips sought out the soft flesh of her neck.

This time, when the words rose to his tongue, he set them free. “I love you,” he said against the fluttering pulse in her throat.

“I’m so mad at you,” she said breathily. He went still. Had he done something wrong? Then she groaned and ground herself against him. The movement was so unexpected that his hands fisted in her shirt. “I’m so mad that we could have been doing this sooner.”

His expression cleared, and he laughed. “I love you,” she said as she kissed him again.

“Touch me,” she told him as one of his hands scraped against her breast over her shirt. “Please.”

He was already lifting her, keeping her against him exactly as she was. “You’re a bully,” he said against her neck as he held her up with one hand and fumbled with her shirt with the other. His tongue traced her lower lip.

“If I had known that bullying you into talking about our feelings would–” Her words cut off with a moan as his bare hands glided up the skin of her ribcage beneath her shirt. “–lead to this, I would have been bullying you every single day for weeks.”

He kissed her again. She belonged in his arms, he thought. She belonged against him just as she was. He never wanted to let her go. “Well, maybe that would have been worse,” he said pragmatically. “The doctor did say absolutely no sex for six weeks.”

Her legs clenched around him. His breath left him in a rush at the sensation, and she was still clothed. He realized he might not survive this, because his heart already felt as if it were about to give out and they hadn’t even properly begun yet.

She seemed to realize the effect she had on him and, with a wicked grin, clenched her thighs again.

He had her pinned against the bed with his body in half a second. His hips settled against her like her body was made for him, and she let out a moan that almost made him burst into flames, it was so hot.

“Hey–” she said, pulling away. “He told you what the doctor said?”

Bruce rested his elbow on the mattress behind her while the other held her by the ass. His hand flexed on its own accord. She was so soft. “Like I said before, meddlesome old man.”

He didn’t want to talk anymore, and especially not about Alfred. Not when y/n was spread below him, her body just begging for him to touch and taste it all over. His eyes roamed over her form for a split second before he bent his head to kiss her again. She squirmed underneath him.

He wanted to devour her.

He gave in to the urge and yanked her shirt and bra off. Her breasts were perfect, so he paused to kiss them, give them the attention they deserved. Her skin was so soft, especially compared to the calluses on his own hands. The small noise she made when his mouth touched her skin encouraged him to do more.

It wasn’t enough. He wanted her to feel good, to know how much he wanted her, to know how much he wanted to swallow her whole in the flames of his desire.

Somehow his body knew what to do. Without thinking, he knelt and pulled down her shorts and underwear until she was entirely bare before him.

His mouth went dry at the sight.

“Jesus,” she said on a breath as his mouth drifted across her inner thigh. He kissed her higher, experimenting to see how she’d react. “Fuck.” He was on the right track, then. He kept kissing higher and higher, stopping before he reached the place he really wanted to taste.

His gaze snagged on the angry scar on her abdomen. The one he’d given her. Reverently, he lowered his head and kissed the puckered skin.

He looked back up at her, hoping she could see everything he was feeling, because he wasn’t sure how to say it out loud.

Then he lowered his head once more. She moaned the moment his lips touched her and her fingers tangled in his hair. Something about the sensation coupled with the taste of her on his lips made him twitch in his pants as he moaned against her. He paid her back by slowly, slowly sliding a finger into her wet heat.

She growled impatiently and it was so endearing that he smiled.

“Please,” she said, polite yet bossy, so he obliged with another finger. Every response he pulled from her with his mouth and fingers informed his movements. The louder the sound, the more she liked what he was doing. He experimented with movements, learning her body slowly but surely. He let his tongue circle her clit as his fingers moved in and out of her, seeing if she liked it when he curled them.

He’d had no idea that tasting her, pleasing her, would be so…erotic. He could climax just from this, he decided, especially with the sounds she was making.

He didn’t know how long had passed when her entire body suddenly shuddered and the noises she made changed. He could feel her clenching around his fingers as she shook.

“Fuck,” she said as she heaved for breath. “Fuck,” she said again. She was so utterly beautiful spread out before him, her body loose with her pleasure. Her body trembled again. Her fingers fisted in his hair. “Bruce–”

He watched her come down from her high, feeling pleased with himself. He had done that to her, had made her look and sound like that. Even inexperienced as he was, he had made her feel good.

She sat up suddenly, still completely naked, and yanked at him until he understood what she wanted. He stood to his feet and stared down at her. He watched her look at him, eyes roving hungrily over his exposed abdomen, before she pressed a kiss there that made him impossibly more turned on. She kissed one scar–the one from the night they met–and then the scar from the night she’d been kidnapped. Her eyes lingered there for a moment, her expression softening.

Then a wicked gleam sparked in her eyes as she rubbed her hand over him through his pants. His hips bucked involuntarily. She stared up at him and the sight was so erotic he nearly came right then and there. His mind spiraled forward to things her mouth might do to him and–

And what came after.

Something he’d never done before.

He suddenly felt unsure. Would she expect more from him than he could give? What if it wasn’t good for her? What if she knew he’d never done anything like this before? Would she care?

“I–” he tried to say, but the words wouldn’t come. Y/n stroked him through his pants again and all thoughts briefly left his head. He clenched his fists and tilted his head back because simply seeing her naked on the bed before him was almost too much to handle.

She didn’t notice his hesitation, unbuttoning his pants swiftly and pushing them down over his hips almost greedily.

He caught her hands in his own. “I–I’ve never done this–” His face was hot with embarrassment. “I’ve never–”

“Bruce,” she murmured gently. “It’s okay, we don’t have to–”

“No,” he said, then breathed a laugh. She’d utterly misunderstood him. Couldn’t she see–couldn’t she feel–how much he wanted her? “I want to, I just–”

She took that as permission to rid him of his underwear next and his words choked off. “I want to, too,” she said. Her eyes lowered. Her lips parted as she took him in, licking her lips absentmindedly. God, her mouth. She tore her eyes away from his nakedness and locked her eyes on his. “I’m yours,” she said simply. “However you want me. Even if you want to wait.”

“I don’t want to wait anymore.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, her hand wrapped around him. His hips jerked again. There was a wicked glint in her eyes.

He grabbed her hands again to stop her. “Play later,” he growled. Because he really didn’t want to wait anymore. He wanted her, all of her.

She laid back on the bed with a soft sigh and watched as he fumbled in the nightstand for a condom.

He saw her watching and flushed again. “I…may have gotten these before the gala.” He tore one open with his teeth. He tried very hard not to think about how embarrassing it had been trying to find the right kind and how he’d had to call Alfred when the sheer amount of choices had overwhelmed him.

She laughed. “Feeling cocky, were you?” she said, with a pointed look and a wink.

“I was–Let’s just say–” He swallowed. He turned his focus to putting the condom on, trying not to seem too new at it. When he looked at her again, his gaze roved hungrily over her naked body as he said, “The night didn’t go like I’d wanted.” He got on his knees on the bed and nudged her legs apart. He settled between them, body trembling in anticipation. “I have never stopped wanting you,” he said again, softer this time. He leaned down and kissed her deeply.

“I’m yours,” she whispered against his lips. He pulled away to look down at her, already deliciously disheveled, his cock pressed against the soft flesh of her lower stomach. She squirmed slightly, making him twitch against her. The desire was going to kill him, he realized.

“And I’m yours,” he echoed softly as his hands explored the soft curves of her. Did she know how beautiful she was? How perfect she was? How much she had changed his life? “I love you,” he said, savoring that he got to say the words to her at all. That he got to mean them.

And then finally, finally, he pushed into her, sliding in like a puzzle piece designed specifically for her. And she said, “I love you,” as they connected, both of them moaning quietly at the contact.

Bruce practically shook with the need to move as he held himself still above her. Instead, he rested his forehead against hers. “Is this okay?”

“No,” she said, and a weight dropped in his gut. Of course he was doing it wrong. Of course he– “I–more,” she said, the word almost incoherent. Her legs wrapped around his waist and with one easy movement, her hips shifted and he sank the rest of the way inside her. For a moment, he saw stars. She must have too, because she moaned his name and squeezed him more tightly against her, a small tremble moving through her body and into his.

Again, his body seemed to know what to do, and his hips moved. She wasn’t close enough–he wanted her all over him, every inch of her against every inch of him. He grabbed at her waist and lifted her so that he somehow slipped even more deeply inside her. She cursed, drawing a smile from his lips. Her head was tilted back slightly, her eyes hooded, her body soft against him, all around him.

“Extraordinary creature,” he said just to make her smile. It worked, and seeing the expression on her face made his heart twist in his chest.

He moved against her, her fingernails biting into his shoulder blades, one of her hands tangling in his hair. And again, the sensation coupled with that of being inside her sent a jolt of desire through him so sharp he moaned. She smirked then did it again, making his cock twitch inside her. He’d had no idea that someone pulling his hair, of all things, could be so sinful.

He shifted his grip on her hips so he could lean his head against hers and drink her in. She moaned, approving of the new angle, and he stole the sound off her lips with his own. He paused to keep himself from going over the edge too soon. After a moment, he started moving again, hips bucking into her, the slide so easy and perfect it drew sounds from deep in his chest.

Faster. Harder. The more he moved, the tighter the desire deep in his gut coiled, making him moan her name in ecstasy.

He’d had no idea sex would be like this. He’d had no idea that loving the person you desired, that having them love you back, made it so much…better. Would it always be like this? He hoped so.

Her muscles tensed around him, her back arching as he moved. He was right with her on the building wave of pleasure. It built and built and built, her noises becoming desperate, pleading, until she shuddered around him. She clenched around him, the sudden tightening sending him over the edge right behind her.

His vision went white, her name on his lips, and the moment exploded into perfect ecstasy.

It was transcendent.

“Fuck,” y/n said quietly as they clung to each other. He rubbed small circles into her skin where he held her.

Bruce was too stunned to speak. She giggled at something, fingertips brushing his face before he captured them and kissed the tips. Then he leaned down and kissed her lips. The kiss deepened, and that feeling of transcendence built.

He had never loved someone like he loved her. He hadn’t even known he was capable.

There was a warmth in his chest now, like a piece of the sun itself was lodged there. He was aglow in its warmth.

“I love you,” she murmured when he pulled away. He gave her a lopsided smile. “Okay?” she asked, suddenly seeming almost self conscious. He kept grinning at her. Okay? Was he okay?

“Better than okay,” he murmured as he stood. It was the biggest understatement he had ever made. He threw the condom in the trash can next to the bed. “Are you…okay? Did I hurt you?” She had seemed to enjoy it as much as he had, but he had no baseline to compare the experience to.

She stretched languidly and smiled dreamily at him. “I am way better than okay.” He grinned at her again as he pulled on a pair of comfortable sweatpants. She watched his every move, eyes sharp as they trailed over his body. He felt a swell of male pride at that, enjoying that she was looking, enjoying that she was enjoying the sight of him. Enjoying the possessiveness in her gaze.

She rolled to her side and used her hands for pillows. Bruce couldn’t help but stare at her breasts and the curve of her hip as she moved. She was his, this extraordinary creature, and he was hers.

The warmth in his chest carried him to her to brush a soft kiss against her temple. She sighed happily as she stretched again and stood. She smiled over her shoulder, corners of her eyes crinkling, as she stepped into the bathroom.

Bruce thought about how desolate he’d felt just an hour before. How…alone. Guilty. Desperate.

And now…now y/n was naked in his bathroom, her love buoying him and lightening the load of his guilt.

A smile spread slowly across his face.

#motn #bruce wayne x reader #battinson x reader #the batman x reader #batman x reader #the batman #the batman 2022 #battinson #motn oneshot

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1-xo-xo-xo-7 · 6 months ago

Text

[It was a slow day for Gotham's vigilantes, surprisingly. So Batman made a decision to do a little bonding activity with his oldest and youngest son : Drawing.]

[Except...]

Nightwing : [Was subjected to a 30 minutes-worth of 'Don't move!' and 'If I see any movement, or even a miniscule amount such as blinking, I will reign hell upon you.']

Baby Bat, I sat here and posed, for like, 10 minutes. Let me see your finished product.

Robin : I... [Hesitation was clear on his features, but unable to say anything as he did feel a need to be responsible for his own drawing... and for his earlier behavior]

There.

Nightwing :...

Batman :...Pffft- [Immediately got shoved by Nightwing]

Nightwing : IS THAT ME?! [Trying, very desperately, not to laugh]

Robin : [Is annoyed and embarrassed, now covering his drawing back up and silently sulks]

Nightwing:[He snatches it back in a hurry] No- No! It's nice!

Nightwing : [In a quivering voice] It's so nice!

Batman : KEUKH-! Ehemn.

Nightwing : [Turns to Batman who was shaking in laughter, annoyed]

Nightwing : [But returns his attention to his Robin, smiling in happiness] I've never looked better! *LIE.*

Nightwing : [Trying TO NOT be a douchebag, like someone behind him] Ooohhh, where were you? Pft- were you when it was time for senior photos?

Robin : [Scowling] Nightwing, I do not appreciate your sarcasm. It does not look good-

Nightwing : It. Is. FAN-TAS-TIC!

Nightwing : [Is motioning to his domino mask, looking like it was scribbled on by a baby using its mouth] Oh my goodness- WHAT'S THAT? IS THAT HYPERPIGMENTATION?

[A very loud choking noise was heard]

Robin : [Unimpressed by Nightwing's need to be enthusiastic about something so incorrigible-looking all because it was made by him, Damian wants to set himself on fire]

Nightwing : [Noticing his Baby Bat's embarrassment, smiling softly] You know what? I've never seen anything like... THIS -before. I just want you to keep it up. Keep it up!

Robin : ... Then why was Father laughing?

[A distinct coughing noise, similar to an old man with years of smoking coughing at his deathbed]

Nightwing : Your Father doesn't know what he's doing!

Nightwing : That's how- That's how you say it's a good drawing in Bat! [He wants to cry from wanting to laugh so hard but he can't do something so heinous to his Baby Bat, unlike a certain someone ¬_¬]

This was Damian's villain origin story to become an art kid in his later years.

This was from a TikTok video, I just addressed some creative liberties to better fit all characters, and maybe add some crack.^^

This was also a bit more feely-feely because I can't help but to add emotions to my shit, and also because I just read a fic where Dick is Damian's biological father. 🥺

So, it's really a ride. ^^

#Dick Grayson : You're a horrible person.#Bruce Wayne : I'm sorry...#Bruce Wayne : You just looked like a Picasso painting. So uncanny valley.#Dick Grayson : BRUCE!#Bruce Wayne #Batman #Dick Grayson #Nightwing #Damian Wayne #Robin #Fun #Funny #Hopefully #DC

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fatigue-d · 1 month ago

Text

( idk the name of the fic )

I don't know if I should write the next of this fic , Is chapter 1 good enough to write it ?

Mark was five years old when he woke up crying in his mother's bed, a burning sensation from his wrist to his left shoulder, far from uncomfortable, akin to medieval torture. He'd been taught that water extinguishes flames, so he ran with all his meager strength to the bathtub to soothe the ache, but it had no impact other than to make him shiver in the bathroom. He tried to call his father for help, but he was away on business, as was his mother, who had promised to return from her walk with the dog two hours ago.

He had no choice but to endure this ordeal, his tear reserve already dry, and his face full of snot. He cursed the witch who had cast this spell on him, for no one but an evil sorceress could have made him suffer this pain, as he had seen in the cartoon on TV. He wondered, however, if he'd made a mistake; every child like him who'd been punished by a witch had made a mistake. He hadn't eaten too much candy like Hanzel and Gretel, or trusted strangers like Snow White, perhaps because he'd forgotten to feed the dog! His mother had already scolded him several times for this. So he promised himself, in the solitude of his living room, to always look after Pluto, his Australian shepherd, like his brother. He'd make Pluto play with him every day, and in time, he'd even teach him English - if he could do that, so could Pluto.

His mother finally returned after 30 minutes of pure torment, Pluto at her heels, the dog immediately licking Mark's tears under the young woman's appalled gaze. Breathless from crying, the dark-haired boy grabbed his mother's skirt with his working hand, begging her to help him.

"Mom! My arm is burning!"

She took her child from her arms, drying her tears by whispering words to him. What kind of mother was she to let her son suffer like this! She kissed his forehead and checked his arm, where now stood a scrawl-like set of letters that together formed two words: Fernando Alonso.

The moment she touched the mark, the burning suddenly stopped, the sudden change making her poor son's head spin. She made him sit on her lap, ready at last to talk about what would be a very important subject in her son's life.

"It's all right, darling, you've finally found your soulmate. she explained in a soft, pleasant voice.

- Soul-mate... ?

Mark had heard that word somewhere before, when he watched TV shows with his mother, and people always referred to it, either positively or negatively. But no one had warned him that his soulmate was going to hurt him so badly, so Fernando must have really hated him to burn his whole arm.

- Yes, soul mate. When someone's born, they're linked with two people, a soulmate and an soul-opponent. The soulmate is someone who's made for you, often in love, like me and your father, but it can also be a friend or even a family member. And then there's the opponent soul, who's like your sworn enemy, you know Batman?

- Yes! He's so cool!

- If they had a soulmate and a soul-opponent, it would be Robin, because they complement each other perfectly, and the Joker, because they hate each other and will do anything to fight the other.

- Do you know your soul-mate? Mark asked, looking amazed at this new horizon.

- Yes, I do. He was a very bad person in my life, so try to stay as far away from him as possible.

- What about Fernando?! Is he my soul mate or my soul-opponent ?

- That's for you to decide. You'll understand as soon as you talk to him.

- Mom... Do people exist without a soul mate?

- Yes, there are. she says with a nostalgic smile. There aren't many, but they do exist. You mustn't insult them or hit them! Tell yourself that they, at least, can choose anyone, they don't have to follow any rules.

- I'd rather not have had a soul mate then! Fernando really hurt me!

- It's not his fault, he's only just been born, and it's incredible to have a soulmate, it's like being completely whole.

- And if Fernando dies! Mark exclaimed with a frightened look on his face, "If he doesn't have a Fernando to spend his days with, who will he have? Pluto? No! His mother prefers Pluto to him, she'll forget all about him!

- So you'll be looking for someone who doesn't have a soulmate or who has also lost his soulmate like you have, living with the person you're meant to is not synonymous with happiness, as I told you there are people without a soulmate who live their lives very well."

Mark remains a little skeptical about this explanation: if Fernando dies, he'll fall back on his soul-opponent, and even if they hate each other, they'll have to learn to coexist together. Besides, it's hard to hate him, as his father said, and he's always right.

One last question came to him as he stroked the mark on the back of his wrist, which was blood-red, whereas his mother's was golden. Perhaps it was because Fernando was a boy? Did it matter if he fell in love with Fernando, he'd never seen two boys kiss, nor two girls. He then looked for his mother, who had started cooking for the two of them, eager to learn more about what would surely dictate his life later on.

"Why is your mark golden and mine isn't? he asked plaintively, having always preferred yellow to red, even if they liked the harmony of these two colors when black was added to the equation.

- Because I've met my soul mate, the same thing will happen to you when you meet Fernando.

- Will it burn again? Mark asked, pouting. The last thing he wanted was to get burned again by Fernando, especially not when he met him.

- I don't know, I was born with my mark so I don't remember anything, but I felt a slight tingling when I met your father, it was nice. said his mother with a gentle smile, making her son taste the sauce and lick his lips.

- I hope he gets burnt too! At least he'll experience what I've experienced! Mark finally exclaimed, before running off to his room to his mother's laughter.

He grabbed his cuddly toy and gave it a long hug, trying to forget the torture he'd been through an hour ago. Cuddling cures everything, as his father said, and he's always right.

And what else? Should he learn Spanish?

Mark is eleven years old when a gentle tingling sensation in his lower back puts him to sleep. It feels like a caress and seems to relax all his muscles, which are tense from Mr. Johnson's incomprehensible history lesson. A beha smile appears on his lips, which makes his friend at the other end of the classroom laugh. He cherishes the gentle caresses until recess, when he is confronted by his friends about the nature of his cartoonish expressions.

"It's my new brand of soul that just arrived. he explains, to the surprised looks of his classmates.

He'd been waiting six years for his other mark, the person he'd love or hate for the rest of his life. And he'd learned so much more about the subject, here's a quick summary:

1. The color of the mark has no influence on whether the person is a soul-mate or a soul-contrary, red is not synonymous with bad, and blue or green is not synonymous with good.

2. People with a single mark exist, either because the other soul-mate has already died at birth, or because a single person combines the soul-mate and soul-opposite attributes; research is still in full swing on this question.

3. Never reveal the name of your soulmate to a stranger. It's very private and could get you into trouble.

4. Trying to find your soul-mate at all costs is pointless: it's totally random, and some people never meet their soul-mate.

5. A mark can take years to come, you have to be patient until the end, some people have their mark when they are adults and their soulmate is their child.

6. Marks can be on any part of the body, most often on the arm, but not always.

7. Having two male soulmates is weird (he learned it from his two best friends).

- Really?! Man... Eleven years difference with someone, I didn't know you liked kids that much. mocked his friend with a perverse expression, quickly followed by the rest of the group.

- No! Besides, I don't care about soul mates, I'd meet them sooner or later, so..." he said nonchalantly, hoping to hide his nervousness behind his i-don't-care air.

His friends took him at face value, and quickly changed the subject under Mark's unspoken entreaties. It was a good thing his friends weren't trying to get under his shirt, or he'd be in big trouble.

He spent the day with mild excitement, wondering what name had appeared on his back. He ran home despite the fact that he hated physical exertion, slamming his bedroom door and taking off his shirt with a deafening crash. His father would surely argue with him about it later, but his soul mate was more important.

He stood in front of his bedroom mirror, looking for the angle that would allow him to perfectly read the name on the small of his back. He managed to read a few letters: S , B , I , A , V , T , L.

And after several minutes in which he tried increasingly outlandish poses, he was finally able to read the name in full: Sebastian Vettel.

His body immediately froze; he hadn't imagined a name other than masculine, but seeing it in real life changed the whole picture... The name was far too high to be hidden by boxer shorts, but far too low not to be visible if his shirt was pulled up a little. He's ruined! Completely ruined! What will his friends think?

His anxious gaze fell on his wrist, nobody had ever paid attention to his arms, and he hadn't seen anyone trying to read what was written on them. If he can't hide Sebastian, he'll hide Fernando. Because even if there's the possibility that it's totally platonic, the looks of disgust he'll get won't be fictional.

Mark likes women, but he doesn't share his desire to go out with them, more out of laziness than real lack of attraction. He finds them beautiful, attractive and intelligent, but men... He likes them too, he definitely doesn't let his eyes wander in the locker room during gym class, but he's already seen attractive men and enjoyed looking at them. All this is a purely scientific, objective judgement, he's only got eyes, and knows how to recognize beauty.

Besides, German women have always been more his type, beautiful blondes with blue eyes have always caught his eye. Much more so than brunettes with golden eyes.

What's more, his father had advised him not to learn Spanish, and he's always right.

Don't forget , Mark's dad is always right. ☝️

#webbonso #f1 rpf fic #mark webber #fernando alonso #sebastian vettel #fanfic #i'm so fucking tired

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