#justice league premiere

[moomin279]

Jurgen Klopp I will love you if I never see you again and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday

[thenonbinarydetective]

Totally agree with your Titans take. To me it just feels like this run has just been DC skirting the status quo with the Titans where they're supposedly the new team of adult heroes, but they still have the same dynamics as when they were teenagers. None of the characters really challenge or have opposing viewpoints which makes things boring, and now the JL *is* back which means the Titans have no real reason to occupy that position anymore. It just doesn't feel like anyone's really trying.

the thing is about the teenage version of themselves is that they were entertaining lmao. But seriously, one of the biggest issues was that they were set up for failure and brought too much into the Justice League.

Now every team is the Justice League mind you, but they retconned Teen Titans into being a baby JL when for plenty of the later characters that makes no sense. Like that assumption is really easy to make for the Fab Five, they were literally sidekicks but what's the point of acting like BB, Starfire, Raven, and Cyborg (and more) had ANYTHING to do with that.

That status quo was never going to last. everyone knew considering absolute power was announced like months after and they did nothing to support the specific titans along the way. Look I love some of the runs that came out during their "takeover" but it's obvious when most of the team gets one-shots, another a mini, and the last nonnightwings absolutely nothing. No one's trying, and that's the problem. And I mean this in the nicest way possible but no one has to try with the justice league.

[ittorule34]

im concerned... dementia???

I’m sorry babe it was part of the contract they made us sign :( I didn’t know it would happen this soon I thought we had more time

[taylorprintssussex]

Brighton and Hove Albion, A tremendous experience, fans with disabilities alike.

Excited to share my love for football and accessibility! As a 36-year-old wheelchair user, I never miss a chance to cheer on my beloved Brighton team. The journey from Seaford to the stadium is a breeze, thanks to the wheelchair-accessible train and modern facilities. ♿️ Once at the stadium, the view from the wheelchair access point is incredible – I never miss a moment of the action! ⚽️ Here's to inclusive sports experiences and unforgettable match days!. I want to highlight just how inclusive and aware the Brighton & Hove Albion family are, to its fans. Thank You. Proud to be a Brighton Albion supporter. 

[usagirotten]

Gal Gadot attends ‘Barbie’ premiere in Los Angeles

[league-of-legends-twitch-build]

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Saksikan para pemain berbakat dari seluruh dunia bersaing dalam pertandingan epik, menggunakan kecerdasan, keterampilan, dan strategi mereka untuk mendominasi medan perang virtual. Dari pertempuran sengit di Rift hingga pertarungan sengit di peta Dota 2, dan ketegangan di medan perang PUBG, setiap momen menjadi peluang untuk menikmati aksi eSports terbaik.

Dengan fitur taruhan yang inovatif dan antarmuka yang ramah pengguna, Tradesia Sarana Betting menyediakan pengalaman taruhan yang tak tertandingi bagi para penggemar eSports. Bersiaplah untuk meraih kemenangan besar dan nikmati sensasi taruhan yang tak terlupakan di Tradesia Sarana Betting!

[anakeb]

Bryan Abreu of the Houston Astros Appeals Suspension Following Incident with Adolis García; League to Make Final Decision on Monday

[coachtfd]

Okay Instagram, I see how you determined that following Gal Gadot means I’d want to follow Mo Salah. Wonder Woman…Liverpool footballer…yup, I see how you got there. He was an extra in Justice League, right? 😂🤦🏾‍♂️

[kinghenryviii-i-am]

Justice League Premiere 2017

[kstarlitchaotics]

Happy anniversary to one of the best and underrated Batman creation ever 🦇

20 years ago today, the television series ‘The Batman’ premiered on Kids' WB.

After the tv show ‘Batman Beyond' stopped airing in 2001, Kevin Conroy's Batman joined Superman, Wonder Woman and other DC members in the DCAU cartoon series 'Justice League', which aired from November 2001 to May 2004. On September 11, 2004, a new Batman centric animated show aired called 'The Batman', created by Michael Goguen and Duane Capizzi. 'The Batman' follows Bruce Wayne (voiced by Rino Romano) in his apparent third year of being Batman in Gotham City, juggling between fighting colorful villains such as The Joker and Penguin and being a playboy billionaire in his early 20s.

Not set within the classic DC Animated Universe created by Eric Radomski, Bruce Timm, Alan Burnett and others, 'The Batman' featured character designs by Japanese-American concept artist Jeff Matsuda. While keeping the same values the Caped Crusader, his allies and infamous rogues gallery sustained over several decades, Matsuda gave a sleek re-design that still presented a mysterious crime drama for a younger audience to appreciate. However much criticism given to the show for its “kiddish” portrayal of this favored dark mythos, radically different from Radomski and Timm's film noir take a decade prior, 'The Batman' lasted for five seasons (aired from late 2004 to March 2008), had a successful toy line, and is part of the Dark Knight animated tv history.🦇📺

[moider-time]

Everything with Batman is the same except he's a snacker. Bruce could never eat only at breakfast, lunch or dinner, he just never worked like that. Thomas and Martha had such a hard time trying to get baby Bruce to eat at a set time. He wouldn't be hungry at dinner time but at 2am? He was craving some marshmallows.

So the solution to that is him carrying snacks all over the place. Bruce will be at a gala and chomping on some grapes while trying to avoid the mayor. He'll be in an interview, talking about his latest poem related to Gotham's gothic architecture and nibbling on smores.

The Justice League are especially used to it. On the rare times when Bruce forgot to bring food, the others have him covered. J'onn slides him cucumber sandwiches, Ollie has honey-covered apple slices and Clark has his oatmeal cookies that Bruce said he liked. The JL are planning for the next cosmic threat and Diana, Clark and Bruce are having a picnic in the back.

It came in handy when his kids were little and they'd get hungry during movie premieres and fundraisers. He'd just whip out snacks from his suit pocket and they'd munch on some. Even now that most of them are grown, they still slide up next to him and tug on his wrist when they're hungry.

(The only time Damian wants to be referred to as a child is when he's arguing that only he should be entitled to Bruce's snacks cause he is the only actual child. No one else listens of course)

And I know it's canonical that Batman carries like sweets in his utility belt for Robin and any kids he may come across but some of them are for him too. Imagine being a goon and Batman dislocates your shoulder while peeling an orange. I'd just quit.

People have connected Bruce's eating habits to Batman's but instead of the logical theory of Bruce being Batman, they just think that Batman is a secret Wayne child that Bruce doesn't know about. They don't want to upset him so this theory is never brought up in his presence.

(Also Bruce 🤝 Speedsters

Having to constantly eat because you have eating habits that no one else gets)

( @bruciemilf )

[mikyapixie]

24 years ago today Justice League premiered on Cartoon Network!!!

A TRUE TIME HONORED CLASSIC!!!🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

[docgold13]

Batman: The Animated Series & The DCAU - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles

Batman Beyond

Debuting on January 10th, 1999, Batman Beyond was a bold and surprising continuation of Batman’s journey.  Its three seasons act as a concluding bookend to the story first started in Batman: The Animated Series.

Chronologically, the tale begins some forty years after the final installments of The New Batman Adventuress and Justice League Unlimited.  The world has been greatly changed by advanced innovation, much likely derived from alien technology. Neo-Gotham is a cold megalopolis with staggering high rises, flying vehicles and all manner of futuristic invention. Greed, corruption and stark class stratification still grips the city, and the Batman, Gotham’s former protector, has not been seen in decades. 

The show introduces Terry McGinnis, a troubled teen in search of answers after his father has been murdered.  Happenstance brings Terry into the life of an aged and reclusive Bruce Wayne.  Retired and estranged from his former friends and allies, Bruce has secluded himself in confines of Wayne Manner.  Yet Terry discovers Bruce’s secret, that he had once been the legendary Dark Knight.  Begrudgingly at first, Bruce ultimately agrees to train Terry in becoming the next Batman.  Terry is eventually able to bring his father’s killer to justice and the streets of Gotham are once more patrolled by a Batman.  

The show was met with much skepticism when it first premiered.  It was a significant departure and many (this author included) were reluctant to accept someone else in the role of Batman.  And yet its sleek production, dark themes, super cool character designs and top notch writing came to win over a fiercely loyal audience of fans (this author included).  

Kevin Conroy returned to reprise his role as Bruce Wayne, with Will Friedle voicing Terry McGinnis.  Cree Summer, Lauren Tom, Sherman Howard, Paul Winfield and Stockard Channing provided the voices for additional characters. 

[its-time-to-write]

jamie and reader used to date before he went back to his old team and broke reader’s heart 💔 now he’s back and wants reader back ANGST AND FLUFF PLEASEEE

I’ve been thinking about this request since FOREVER so I hope I did it justice!!

wonder what it’d be like

You don’t get paid enough for this shit.

“So you do know Jamie Tartt?” asks some journalist doing some piece on some footballer crap. You don’t know and you don’t care.

“If you’re not going to order anything, I’m going to get my boss and have you removed from the premises,” you reply, undeterred in your mission to wipe down empty tables. Brian loves his coffee shop and is fiercely protective of both his employees and his peaceful atmosphere. Wouldn’t be the first time he’s kicked someone out.

“Well, do you have any comment on the fact that he said you were the love of his life?”

You don’t miss a beat. “No I do not. Can I get you any coffee or should I get Brian?”

The journalist declines both, and is out the door.

Fucking Jamie Tartt. What does he even think he’s doing? How did you even come up in an interview? Was the question, who, Jamie Tartt, is the greatest love of your life?

(You’d find out later that yes, that was the question. The journalist was looking for an answer like “Keeley Jones,” or “Kiera Knightley,” something a little spicy.)

It doesn’t matter, the journalist (you think his name was Trent) is gone and you can go back to making coffee and chatting with the regulars.

—

You should have known that wasn’t the end of it.

God, why can’t you just work in peace? You have enough on your plate, between homework and student loans and the person who’s complaining that their iced coffee is “too cold.” 

You don’t need to add “prick footballer ex-boyfriend,” to the list.

But he seems bound and determined to add himself to your list of things to take care of, with the way he’s following you around as you hand people their orders.

“Trent said you wouldn’t talk to him,” he says.

He takes your silence as license to keep going. “Why didn’t you just take the money? Can’t be making much here.”

Do not let him get to you, you remind yourself. Do not sink to his level.

So you just shrug. “I’m not one of those people who fucks a famous footballer just for the money. Now I’m going to give you the same choice I gave that goddamn reporter: you can get a coffee or you can get. Out.”

So Jamie leaves.

—

It figures that your ex would find some way to make your life hell. Sure, you’ve gotten mostly over him and you have your own life and you’re on your way to becoming an accountant because numbers are fun and numbers don’t break your heart. So of course, now is when he decides to show up and have journalists poking around.

But you refuse to talk about him with anyone. It’s rude, in your opinion. It devalues your old relationship and yourself and you won’t do it.

So instead you stay after hours, going over finances at the café while Brian and his boyfriend chatter softly and try new coffee combinations.

You laugh as they bicker and and sip everything they set before you, grateful that you don’t have to think about the day Jamie got signed to Manchester City and decided that he was too good for you.

Unfortunately, you have to go home at some point, which means you’re wide awake in your bed, flatmates all asleep leaving you to replay that whole terrible day.

—

(He said, “It ain’t gonna work, babe, I’m in the Premier League now and I should be with someone who’s at my same level.”

You said, “Don’t call me babe.”

He said, “Don’t waste any tears over me, I won’t be crying so you shouldn’t either.”

You said, “I sure as hell won’t cry over a heartless dick like you.”

He said, “That’s a heartless Premier League dick to you.”

And that was it. A year-long relationship and four year-long friendship down the tubes.)

—

The article hits the papers and now you’re constantly being harassed by journalists. 

You read it, the part about you. It was written in interview format, with a bolded question and then Jamie’s response. It was like a glimpse into his personal life, who he was outside the pitch.

Jamie, you’ve had an astonishing career at such a young age, and made a name for yourself both on and off the pitch. Your name has been in the tabloids with many famous models and actresses in the few short years you’ve played in the Premier League. So my question is, in the history of your romantic entanglements, who is the absolute love of your life?

In your opinion, it was a long lead-up to a short question. 

Jamie’s response was two words. Your first and last name.

That fucker.

It makes work so bad that you had to hide in the back while Brian tells people to leave.

You apologize profusely once everything’s closed and everyone’s gone. 

“I’ll give you my official notice and everything, and I can still help out with finances if you want,” you say. “I’m- not trying to be annoying, but the extra money would be really helpful while I look for another job.”

Brian shakes his head. “I’m not firing you, kid,” he says. “It’ll die down. And Caleb and I are happy to have you over for dinner if you want to talk about it.”

You’re so relieved and grateful that you hug him.

—

It’s late again. You’re in your kitchen. All three of your flatmates are out and will be gone until the morning, so you have the flat all to yourself. You’ve lit some candles and turned on the soft lights, and are criss-cross on the counter listening to Fleetwood Mac with brownies in the oven.

You allow yourself to think about some of the questions that were thrown at you throughout the day.

How long have you known Jamie Tartt?

When was the last time you spoke?

Are you still friends?

You shake your head. Weird.

There’s a knock at the door. Even weirder. You’re not expecting anyone.

You hop down and pad down the hall, standing on tiptoe to peer through the peephole. It’s Jamie. You make a face, double-check that the door is locked, and turn back to the kitchen. 

“I know you’re there,” Jamie calls through the door. “I can see the light on, and your car’s out front. I just want to talk.”

You’re not going to open the door, but then he calls your name and you’re rooted to the floor.

You open the door just enough so you can look at him, but not enough that he thinks he can come inside.

“I can’t imagine what you’d have to say to me other than an apology, especially after the day I’ve had,” you say, more fire in your voice than you remembered you had.

The fire dies when you get a good look at Jamie’s face.

It’s different.

He looks… forlorn, almost?

“I do, I do have an apology,” he says. There’s no malice, no conniving look on his face. 

You say, “Ok,” in a tone so soft that Jamie could almost forget the anger you just held.

“Look,” he begins, but is cut off by your timer beeping in the kitchen. You sigh. 

“I have to get those,” you say. “Can’t burn down the flat. Do you… do you want to come in? Just for a minute.”

Jamie nods and follows you inside, closing the door behind him.

He follows you to the kitchen, close on your heels, where you motion for him to sit while you take out the brownies. 

“Right,” he says once you’re leaning on the counter across from him. “Look- I was a prick. I thought I was fucking special because my right foot was kissed by god. I didn’t know how to fucking handle it so I acted like a prick. And I never said I’m sorry.” He takes a breath. “Keeley’s always talkin’ about accountability, so… here I am. Taking fucking accountability.”

You just look at him.

“I’m not looking for forgiveness,” he hurriedly continues. “Just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry for hurting you.”

You’re still not talking, so Jamie gets up.

“Right,” he says. “Right. I’m going to leave ya now. Got fucking trainin tomorrow.”

He’s halfway down the hall when he turns and says, “Oh, by the way, I called your uni. Paid the rest of your tuition, gave them some extra in case you decide you want to keep going.” Then he turns around again and actually heads to the door.

For a moment, you’re too shocked to even move but the magnitude of what he just said sinks in.

“OI,” you bellow. Jamie freezes, hand on the door handle. 

“Get. Back here,” you say, voice tight.

“Jamie,” you say once he’s sitting again, “you can’t just pay my student loans. The whole reason I never talk to the press about you is because I don’t want to be like those people who just, like, use you for your money. I had it handled and I don’t need you thinking that I’m just- just- using you. And fuck off with saying that shit in a magazine,” you continue, “You can’t just use me to make yourself more family-friendly. Saying that you like the girl who works in a fucking coffee shop so she can get through school and become an accountant. I mean, what the fuck? Just say it was a model or an actress or something, but don’t use me, because I never used you.”

Jamie shakes his head. “But it’s not like that,” he says earnestly. “I know what you’re like. I know it ain’t about the money. That’s why I said what I said. You really are the love of me life.”

You’re silent, analyzing his face. There’s nothing that indicates he’s lying, and if you can claim to know Jamie at all, you’d have to admit that this might be the most sincere you’ve ever seen him.

All you can manage is a weak, “Oh.”

“I’m really, really sorry.”

“Yeah,” you reply, “you keep saying that. I forgive you. But that doesn’t mean that I want to be friends with you.”

Jamie nods. “Yeah, no I get that, yeah. Right. I’m not looking for that. I just needed you to know.”

You’re both silent for an awkward moment.

“Right,” Jamie says again. “Guess I’d better go. I’ll see you around, I guess.”

You nod, letting Jamie see himself out.

—

“So, you’re not taking him back?”

“Brian,” you say, “why the absolute fuck would I do that?”

He laughs. “I don’t know, if I had some handsome, rich young footballer come to me with an apology that I didn’t ask for, I’d’ve snapped him right up!”

“Don’t let Caleb hear you say that,” you warn.

Brian laughs again. “Oh hon, he’s heard me say so much worse.”

You snort then turn back to the column of numbers in front of you. It’s bright and early, thirty minutes before opening. That gives you twenty minutes to finish what you’re doing before sneaking out the back door. You’re scribbling in the margins in blue glitter pen when there’s a knock on the glass door. You frown.

“Who on earth is knocking?” you ask.

Brian shrugs. “No idea,” he replies as he goes to look.

The frown stays affixed to your face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that Brian just lied.

He’s back a moment later.

“Think these are for you,” he says, arm full of flowers.

You drop your pen.

“What the hell,” you whisper. 

Brian just grins and places them on the table. “A nice young man in a pink tracksuit dropped them off. Said to give them to you and that he’ll have more tomorrow.”

“Fucker,” you hiss.

“Me or him?”

You glare. “Both. Either. I don’t care. Take these home to Caleb or put them around the shop. I’m leaving.”

You shuffle your papers together and flee the coffee shop, door banging behind you.

—

“Twat,” you whisper to no one in particular. 

Jamie’s delivered flowers every day for a week and a half and you’re not sure how he manages it, but he always avoids being caught by you. You’re not sure why he’s delivering them to your place of work, but you have a hunch that somehow, somehow Brian and Caleb are in on it.

It’s fucking annoying, really. They’re so beautiful and in all your favorite colors and you’re absolutely pissed off that he still knows anything personal about you.

You’re even more pissed off that you like it.

I mean, come on, he has your forgiveness; what more does he want?

The worst part is you actually miss him. You miss the Jamie you dated, the one you fell in love with but are not particularly fond of the Jamie who dumped you when he got signed for Man City. What’s to stop him from doing that again?

You decide you’re going to talk to him.

—

Brian brings in a particularly large bunch the next day and you’re on your feet in a flash. You’re out the door before he can ask where you’re going, but he doesn’t need to. He already knows. 

You look up and down the street. You know Jamie couldn’t have gotten far. 

You catch a flash of blonde hair zipping away to your right. 

“TARTT,” you bellow.

The blonde hair freezes as you march up the street.

Jamie turns and grins sheepishly, “Hey, love,” he says.

“Stop bringing me flowers. It’s fucking annoying.”

It might be Jamie’s imagination, but there seems to be slightly less rage in your eyes today.

“Thought you liked that sort of thing,” he says.

“I do,” you say, “usually. When I know why it’s happening. I don’t know why you’re doing it. You already paid my student loans and apologized. I don’t really know what else you want from me.”

“A second chance,” Jamie says promptly. “I weren’t kidding in the article. You can tell me to fuck off right now and I’ll leave you alone. Can’t promise that I’ll never hurt you again, but I can fucking guarantee it won’t be on purpose.”

You’re silent, giving Jamie the tiniest spark of hope.

“Fuck you,” you finally say. Jamie raises an eyebrow as you glare at him. “Fuck you for actually fucking changing. And for making me love you again. You’re all I can fucking think about and it’s been driving me crazy, and Brian’s been no help with all his, ‘you should call him,’ and ‘he seems like a good lad.’ He’s fucking right and I’m fucking mad about it.”

“Yeah?” Jamie asks, “Why don’t you tell me more over dinner tonight? I’ll take you on a proper date.”

You actually smile at him for the first time in ages. “Alright,” you reply, “one date. One. We’ll see where it goes from there.”

Jamie doesn’t care. You’re smiling, which means he’s already won the whole fucking thing. He’s yours again, and he’s not going to fuck it up.

[capnsupernova]

The Death of Batman

Four years. Four years since the streets of Gotham have seen Batman. Four years since the Justice League has seen Batman. Four years since the Robins have seen Batman.

And now he stands, in full gear, mask and cape and all, in front of a podium in broad daylight with a microphone in his face, surrounded by cameras. The audience is still. No one dares make a sound. No one dares ask why, after all this time, he is here now. No one dares to say it, but he’s different than they imagined he’d be. He is tall, yes, and his shoulders broad and sturdy enough to carry the whole weight of the world, but they see his weariness etched in the lines of his mouth, the only part of his face they have ever been able to see. For the first time, they see, not some cryptid of the night meting out justice, but a man. Just a man in a suit. No one dares say it, but he looks tired.

For a long time, he is silent.

When he does speak, his voice is softer than they expect—tinged with the first hints of age.

“I have watched this city for so long.”

The people of Gotham hold their breath.

“For so long, I have been your knight, your judge, your hero…. No, not your hero. It’s been a long time since I’ve been anyone’s hero.” He sighs and all the burdens of darkness and justice escape with his breath. “I am so tired.”

His enemies wait in the shadows. Everyone knows they’re there, waiting for an opportunity. Never has Batman announced his presence so publicly. Never has he handed himself so neatly to them, and with so many potential hostages and casualties around his stage. But they find themselves frozen. This is not the voice they know, not the gruff growl that haunts their nightmares. He is tired. They hear that, and this is familiar in a different way. They have all, villain and civilian alike, felt this exhaustion themselves. And so, they wait to see what he will say next.

“I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. I don’t know if I’ve ever done the right thing. My children are hurting. I have hurt my children.” His voice catches. He takes a moment, looks up at the sky, blue and cloudless and bright. “I just want them to come home.”

He pauses, head tilted upwards before looking back at the people of Gotham, people he saved, people he fought and locked away—all of them, in one way or another, people that he has tried to help. People he has tried to protect.

“The Batman,” he says, “is retiring.”

Somewhere, a pin drops, and the echoes reverberate around the world. No one notices, but in the crowd, among reporters, a tall, barrel-chested man with dark hair and thick-rimmed glasses smiles. It’s a small smile, a twitch of the lips. He meets Batman’s eyes over the tops of the heads of Gotham’s citizens. He nods, barely perceptible, and the man behind the black mask stands just a little taller.

“That is all. Thank you.”

And just like that, Batman is gone. No one stops him as he walks off the stage. No one stops him as their Dark Knight, their strange and mysterious vigilante, disappears into the shadows and out of their lives forever.

--

The first to return is Jason. He knocks on the door with all the casual confidence of Gotham’s premier crime boss, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, eyes so green they may as well be glowing.

When Bruce opens the door, he looks the old man up and down. “I’m assuming my old room is still available?” His smile is half-cocked and arrogant as ever, but there’s uncertainty furrowed in the space between his brows. If you didn’t know him, you wouldn’t see it at all.

Bruce sees it. And of all the things Jason excepts—the door slammed in his face, all the security systems of Wayne manor targeting his chest and head, a lecture at the very least—what he doesn’t expect are the tears that well up in Bruce’s eyes. He doesn’t expect to be wrapped tightly in his strong arms, arms that feel so much smaller than he remembers.

“Oh my boy,” Bruce whispers into his chest. “Oh my sweet, strong boy. I’m so sorry. I’ve missed you so much. I’m so glad you’re home.”

And it’s too much. The man behind the red hood, the man who beat Tim within an inch of his life, the man who shot Damien in the back in an effort to kill his own pain, crumples. In his father’s arms he is reduced to that 15-year-old boy who died and came back to life. The 15-year-old boy who, after all this time, only ever wanted to come home.

--

The rest showed up one by one that very same day. Dick showed up first with Tim and Damien in tow, surprised—not that Jason was there—but that he had beat him home. Then Barbara, Duke, Stephanie. It wasn’t long before the house was full of every single Robin and Batgirl who ever passed through these halls. Draped over chairs and couches (or, in Dicks case, swinging from the chandelier in the foyer while Tim and Damien did their best to use him—unsuccessfully—as target practice).

Not much changed in Gotham, after that. The villains didn’t retire with Batman, just as they didn’t disappear with Batman four years ago. But neither were they given free reign of the city, for Batman had ensured so, so long ago that there would always be someone to protect his home and his people. Gotham would always have their symbols of hope, their bats of blue and red and green and purple and yellow. New symbols that filled the night with a rainbow of colors.

And when their work was done, they returned to the manor, where their father would dress their wounds, mend their capes, and make them heaping piles of pancakes and eggs (“Yes, Dami, you have to finish the eggs. I won’t have some villain getting the better of you because you don’t have enough protein in your system”) with bowls of fruit and fresh squeezed orange juice. Bruce was, at the very least, a better cook than Alfred had been.

Things weren’t perfect. There were wounds that couldn’t be healed with a simple hug and a few tears. Wounds that would take years of therapy and hard talks and patience to fully close over. Bruce never told them where he’d been for those four years, and they never asked. This was the beginning of something entirely new for all of them.

But for the first time since anyone could remember, the sun shined bright and warm over the city of Gotham.

--

Writer’s Note:

This is an idea I have debated with close friends—the retirement of Batman. The main issue boils down to this: what becomes of Gotham without their symbol of hope? And to me, the answer is simple. Nothing. Because Batman is no longer their only symbol of hope. He hasn’t been for a long time, since he first took in Dick Grayson, that colorful bird of a boy. I think, in all honesty, that this is the true purpose of the Robins. Maybe Bruce himself didn’t realize it at the time, but he always hoped for something brighter for Gotham than Batman. Bruce has always been a reflection of Gotham. “The hero they deserve.” In a way, by taking in each sidekick, he adds another possibility, not just for the people of Gotham, but for himself too. A brighter future. Isn’t this what we all hope for our children?