#neurodivergent batfam

[toobytoobs]

Autism: Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne/Al Ghul, Cassandra Cain.

OCD: Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake.

ADHD: Stephanie Brown, Dick Grayson.

Neurotypical: Alfred Pennyworth.

None of the above: Jason Todd, Duke Thomas.

[faeriekit]

*taps mic* Hello? Is this thing on?

*pause*

Cass Cain with synesthesia???? Yes?? No???

*frantic audience muttering*

[seleneprince]

I have a problem

I'm falling on the rabbit hole of the batfamily, most espeficially the x reader fanfics and headcanons, and it's turning into a hyperfixation that's consuming me. I'm not even joking, i've been these two last days obsessively writing in my mind a full au of yandere!batfam x neglected!reader (yes, it's the most common and everyone has seen it already but HUSH). I hate my brain. I'm not even that deep into the dc universe, haven't been in several years. I'm team Marvel ffk

The worst part is that it's not even a deeply defined plot, like my current proyect. I just have the vibes and random scenarios and headcanons about the mc, and a bunch of cliches from all the batfam x neglected! reader put together in a mix. My arcane playlist isn't helping either. And recently I've played Watch Dogs Legion again and it's only giving me inspiration for this au.

So warning: Maybe I'll post a few things about this to get it out of my brain, because I can't be the only one suffering here. Don't worry to those who follow my other writing, I have no intention of abandoning it (not when I have already everything planned), but it's going to take slower than anticipated.

[nerdby]

"Normal is a setting on the dryer. People like us don't get normal." -Harley Quinn (Suicide Squad, 2016)

[bisexualnerd]

I wrote something because I had like 4 hours of sleep yesterday.

Also kept in Google Doc as: In which Tim has ADHD and Autism which is why coffee/caffeine is bad for staying awake

Summary:

Tim wanted to stay awake to work and this is the story of how his relationship with coffee (and energy drinks) evolved over the years.

Someone should have noticed that he was not any more awake after having drunk coffee, right?

And something just run in the family without every member even related.

~~~

Rated: Gen (but there is some swearing in there).

It's mostly just some fun stuff in the Batfam and everyone is neurodivergent, one way or another, or both.

[applejuicebegood]

Characters I believe are Neurodivergent

Totally from based on personal opinion and my own neurodivergency

This may expand in the future

[shyjusticewarrior]

DC Comics Incorrect Quotes Pt 136

Two Face: Do you have any personal connection to the defendant?

Tim: Yeah, that's my boy. And let me tell you something; he did that shit. Guilty as fuck.

Jason: What the fuck? Motherfuckers really ain't got no loyalty.

Tim: Fuck you mean no loyalty?

Jason: You just gonna go up there-

Two Face: Can you shut the fuck up?

Jason: You know what? I got some shit to say, put me on the stand.

Harvey: Do not go up there and testify. You're the defendant, don't say shit.

Jason: Fuck it. Hey, put me up on the stand.

Dick: This motherfucker going to jail.

[m0tor8aby]

Oh special interests how I loathe how nerdy you make me I am never going to get a partner thanks to you

[evil-flesh-eating-ai]

art made by my partner ( @lgbtq-angel )

[theweirdhybrid]

Everyone who says Jason Todd was the angry/vicious Robin has clearly never seen Dick Grayson put the fear of himself into a group of grown men and beg them - TWICE - to get back up so he can continue beating the shit out of them, nevermind that this was pre the 5 different universe reboots

[faeriekit]

hey gang I gave in and wrote something for the Holy Ageswap, Batkid! AU after all :) :) :) :)  Whoops 🦇

Alfred turns the page in the Gotham Gazette.

It looks like there’s to be a stage show at the local theater next week. A performance of King Lear—normally, he would consider attending, if only to judge from a seat in the audience, but his usual operations have largely changed in the last few months.

For one, his free time has severely decreased.

“Alfred,” a tiny voice pipes up from somewhere around his knee. Alfred sets the newspaper on the plastic picnic table.

Bruce Wayne, second grader and aspiring crime fighter, has both hands fisting Alfred’s more comfortable dress pants. The boy isn’t stellar with eye contact— based on Alfred’s research, that may never happen—but he is a remarkably clingy child, when he can bear human touch.

“Bruce.” Alfred’s greeting is just as calm. Just because the other children in the kiddie gym may be raging doesn’t mean that Bruce doesn’t prefer quieter tones. “How was your lesson today?”

Bruce bounces on the balls of his feet, his little white socks raising and lowering. “I did a front flip today,” the boy reports, pleased. “Dick said I did a good job. I have a sticker now.”

A reward. Alfred does smile; he isn’t sure that Bruce fully appreciates the item itself, but the positive reinforcement Richard provides his students is certainly appreciated just as much. “May I see it?”

Bruce pulls his sleeveless shirt forward until Alfred can see it. With his reading glasses, he can somewhat make out a little blue figure with some sort of shield.

“Ah, Captain America,” Alfred realizes. His wire frames return to his breast pocket. “No Gray Ghost, of course, but highly respectable.”

Bruce hums, and kneads the fabric trapped in his hands. Alfred knows perfectly well who Bruce’s favorite crime-fighter is; after a few movie marathons, trips to thrift shops and secondhand sales to find more tapes and merchandise, and re-readings of the novelizations, all at his new charge’s request, the preference has become clear. There is no one who reigns in Bruce Wayne’s favor above the Gray Ghost. “Dick let me pick last, so I had more time to make a decision.”

“That is very kind of your teacher. Are you ready to say goodbye for the evening?”

Bruce nods. In the same way that he is uncomfortable with eye contact, he is often uncomfortable with prolonged skin-on-skin contact, so Alfred doesn’t offer to hold his hand. Bruce keeps himself tucked away at Alfred’s side, perfectly content, with three slim fingers keeping him latched onto the edge of Alfred’s wool jacket.

They are usually one of the last to leave the gymnasium, if not the last. Bruce usually wants to report about all he’s done for his lesson, and then takes a moment to dress himself in daywear once more, all at his own pace, before they leave. It’s optional to speak to the coach on their way out, but Alfred prefers to; although he is retired, and has no intention of either returning to his field of work or introducing Bruce to it, he still appreciates supervising and evaluating Bruce’s training for its level of quality.

Richard is a fun sort of lad. Loose—in the way that young men have been, he wears his hair long and enjoys colorful fabrics. In the gym, he wears his dark hair up in a ponytail and throws cotton tees on over his shorts.

“Hey, Bruce!” Richard recognizes, and waves. Bruce silently waves back. “Ah, and you’re his guardian. Alfred, right?”

No assumed family connection. Alfred accepts the handshake. “Rightly so.”

Richard grins, white teeth and patience. “Excellent! Well, I’m happy to report that Bruce is coming along well in his class. He’s very dutiful with his exercises, and works very hard on mastering the newer tricks we learn in lessons. I’m sure he’ll be able to place up into one of the higher level classes by next year.”

Bruce, of course, is touched, and kneads the fabric of Alfred’s jacket that much harder. The little nuances of childhood’s strong emotions. Alfred will never understand them.

Richard leans down, ever so slightly. It’s not low enough to be condescending, but manages to make himself at least more equal with the height of the child. “Do you remember what we worked on today?”

“Yes!” Bruce declares, happy to have an answer he knows. “First we sat down on the mat and then you told us about how the gym is going to be closed next week because they’re replacing the climbing net and then we did our warm ups and we did butterfly legs and we stretched out our arms and then we stood up so tall—“

“Bruce has an excellent memory,” Alfred explains to a clearly flummoxed gymnastics teacher. Bruce’s recitation of events does not end. “When we get home tonight, he is going to repeat the entire lesson on his mattress. I am certain he is going to ask for gymnastic mats for Hanukkah.”

Richard laughs and laughs until he runs out of air. He surfaces with tears in his eyes. Bruce accepts a very careful high-five, swiftly changes in the single-stall family bathroom, and is escorted to the car by his older guardian. Bruce buckles himself in and hugs his gym clothes.

They drive back to Wayne manor.

“I think Dick has secrets,” Bruce announces, apropos of nothing. His feet kick against the seat.

Alfred hums. His eyes stay on the road. “Oh?”

Bruce nods. Alfred catches the last edge of the gesture in the rearview mirror. “He has a lot of big scars under his shirt, and always knows if you’re beside him. Sometimes he practices before class, and he’s really good at climbing stuff. He has big knives in his locker.”

Alfred mulls over the stated observations. Well, the observations are valid at the very least. However:

“I believe we have discussed respecting others’ personal boundaries, Bruce.” This has been a frequent point of contention.

Bruce’s huff is audible. He is no doubt crossing his arms in the back seat. “Alfred.”

“Bruce.” Alfred is firm on this point. “Your aspirations of detective work are to be admired; however, you are still eight, and could be removed from your class or otherwise fined if you are caught. Breaking into one’s personal possessions remains illegal.”

Bruce goes silent. The sound of kicking feet stops. They sit, quietly in the car, as Alfred drives them home through dingy back streets of urban Gotham.

He really only turns to face his charge once they hit a red light. “I did notice, however,” Alfred continues, half as sly and satisfied besides. “That Richard has very prominent swordsman’s calluses.”

The boy, of course, lights up. Beyond his love of Gray Ghost and learning new detective skills, Bruce loves, beyond all reason, new clues. “I saw," Bruce breathes, fists balled up as he veritably shakes in his seat. “When we high-fived! What do you think??”

Alfred rights his position for appropriate levels of concentration whilst driving. “Well,” Alfred admits. “There is no point in making any assumptions now, of course. We only have half the information.”

“Aw.”

“We can, however, perform a very thorough background check.” Perhaps it isn’t ethical to bribe young children with borderline legal methods of informational gathering, but it does keep him occupied between his school hours and his extracurriculars. Alfred will take what he can get. “Would you like to learn how to gain access to several forms of paperwork when assessing someone’s trustworthiness?”

Bruce kicks the seat again, thrilled, squeezing his little gym bag taut in his arms. He buries his face in it, overwhelmed, and only surfaces for a second to shout: “Yes!”

“Good.” Now there will be something to do after dinner. “Now, don’t forget to wash your hands before dinner. We’re having pot roast.”

“Thank you, Alfred!”

“You’re very welcome, Bruce.”

[thief-of-eggs]

Tim Drake definitely stims by singing the Whopper song. I don’t make the rules

[thatstheproblemwithnapkinman]

i hate the question if you could be not disabled anymore would you

because it makes me doubt myself when i hesitate

the answer is simple for some things, like dyspraxia just makes my life harder and people don't think it's big enough to be a disability but i cannot stand up on public transport bc i cannot balance and i will fall over and hurt myself and other people. i literally fall over standing still. i have bruises all over my body and im surprised i've never broken a bone. i've almost been hit by a car on more than one occasion bc i fall into the road when i start to cross and abruptly stop seeing the traffic. i cannot organise my thoughts and i live in constant confusion. i would kill to get rid of it.

but my adhd? it makes my life almost impossible sometimes, but i know every aspect of me is tied to it. it makes me who i am unfortunately, and i wouldn't be the same person without it, literally. i would have a different personality, and that might sound insane but it's true. i wouldn't be doing the degree i'm doing at the university i study and i wouldn't have the amazing friends i have. i wouldn't have the same interests or clothing options or outlook on life. it is who i am and i hate it because it has a positive and it shouldn't

so can people please stop asking this question, i'm sick of seeing people be ableist to people who don't just say yes

[armed-with-a-waffle-iron]

Stephanie Brown has ADHD

What do you think?

Her out-of-the-box thinking, unpredictability and determination are her biggest assets.

Always moving and always talking, even in combat, it's like she's run by a motor. Bruce likens her to Dick in this respect.

When still, she is restless and fidgets A LOT; clicking pens, fiddling with batarangs, walking around and inspecting anything she can get her hands on.

She's got a hyperactive inner monologue which never goes away.

She can't help herself from thinking out loud or speaking too loudly, particularly if she feels strongly about it. Because of this, she can wind up saying something hurtful without thinking.

Her room.

She's bad with homework and underperforms academically despite demonstrating a genius intellect in her vigilante life.

She is strikingly driven but struggles with balance in her life. Vigilante life tends to consume her; she slacks academically, has few friends at university and doesn't has much of a campus life.

She tends to daydream a lot and is easily distracted, especially when disinterested with what she's doing; such as when sitting through classes and Barbara's tech lessons.

When Stephanie puts her mind to something, it's all she thinks about and she becomes dead-set seeing it through. Stephanie is going to be Batgirl and she's going to be an amazing Batgirl, no matter what anyone says or does because she decided so.

When she's engaged, Stephanie is exceptionally perceptive and resourceful; picking up on unassuming clues and coming up with creative battle tactics on the spot.

She is horrible with instructions and doesn't take kindly to authority figures.

She struggles with self-compassion and has major self-esteem issues. Her inner monologue is REALLY critical of her. Under Scarecrow's Fear toxin, Steph sees her ex Tim and then herself as Spoiler both telling her she isn't good enough a hero or a person; that everything she does is a mistake.

She is VERY VERY sensitive to criticism and rejection, and is obsessed with trying to prove her worth because of it. She actually anticipates criticism and rejection at every turn too. It screams RSD. Even the police mistakingly accusing her of murder sends her into a pit of self-pity and amps up her.

She clings to praise and never expects it.

She tends to act on impulse and always diving into danger head first. She is possibly the bravest of the Bat Family but also has a reckless streak.

Her emotions get very big very quickly and she seems to struggle to regulate them. Her mood can also seems to fluctuate intensely too.

She's got a temper and she has a habit of lashing out. When her angry reaches a boiling point, she tends to cross the line or act blindly. Always thinking of that time she slapped Bruce but she also almost killed her asshole father and then Zsasz.

[wildtreevampire]

Wayne Manor has a designated Lego Room.

[dcoasis]

DC Comics Discord for diverse fans!

───────── ·  ·  ·  · ✦ ·  ·  ·  · ─────────

☆ Autism founded and autism friendly!

☆ Mainly English, but all languages are welcome!

☆ Fun games, friendly community, and cool events!

☆ All sexualities and genders welcome!

☆ SFW

☆ All races & ethnicities welcome