#that was so freaking robin of you dames

[californiannostalgia]

Cassandra Cain & Damian Wayne | Wayne Family Adventures #90-91 - What I Want

[runraerun]

Steddie Amnesia Fic — 3/3

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3

wc: 3k | rating: T | cw: head trauma, brain injury talk | a special thank you to @dame-zoom-a-lot for betaing! <3

The days following Steve’s Houdini act are fuckin’ tense, to say the least.

Eddie had messed up. Royally.

He could’ve sworn that when Steve took off, he’d ducked into the Recovery Center, y’know, the place he was supposed to go! If Eddie had known Steve took a detour and missed the building entirely, Eddie would’ve ran a lot fucking faster than he had. Especially after…

Well, no point in shying away from it anymore; after Steve confessed his love for him.

And how did Eddie return the favor? By being a total bone head and losing Steve for the entire goddamn day! Not to mention a good chunk of the night. Jesus… It’s no wonder Robin’s still sore.

Now, in Eddie’s flimsy defense, Steve had thrown him for one hell of a loop. One that Eddie was still seeing double from. He’s still having trouble wrapping his head around what he’d heard; Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington, King of Hawkins High, being into Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson, the drug-dealing ne’er do well hailing from the Forest Hills trailer park. Forgive him for finding the threads a little difficult to tie together! He’s not exactly Steve’s usual fare.

But it had happened.

Things have fundamentally, metaphysically, allegorically and subatomically shifted between the two of them—there’s no getting away from that, no matter how long they try and dance around this.

Steve said he loved Eddie. Love.

That isn’t something you just move on from. At least, it isn’t something Eddie can move on from. Especially when he didn’t even get to say his piece!

The trouble is that Robin’s in all-out guard dog mode with Steve, keeping Eddie at arm's length even after a whole goddamn week goes by. Sure, she’d accepted his apology (albeit begrudgingly), but she isn’t exactly keen on letting Steve out of the house without her by his side—much less with Eddie. It would be kind of heartwarming if it weren’t so goddamn annoying.

Steve isn’t some damsel locked away in a tower, and Eddie wasn’t some knight in shining armor, planning to scale the side of a stone tower to avoid the sleeping, fire-breathing dragon…

But as Eddie stares up at the fire escape attached to the side of Steve and Robin’s brick apartment building… he'd be lying if he said he didn’t sort of feel a little shiny.

Part of Eddie can’t believe it’s really come to this, but… he just can’t stand the idea of wasting another goddamn night tossing and turning, going over and over Steve’s words in his mind. Thinking about the way Steve’s hand felt in his, the way his eyes went all soft when he told Eddie he—he loved him…

Jesus H. Christ, this is way beyond his skill set—he’s way out of fucking league here, but there’s nothing for it. Eddie needs to settle this, once and for all.

So, he takes his bandana from the back pocket of his jeans and presses the flat of it to his forehead while his hands make a tight knot in the back. He zips his leather jacket as high as it’ll go and gives his hands a shake to try and get the jitters out.

It’s not exactly a helmet and plates of armor, but it’ll have to do. Eddie takes a breath, steels himself, then climbs on top of a precariously stacked pile of milk crates that he’d crafted and leaps for the steel ladder. As soon as his feet leave the plastic tower, it collapses under him, clattering to the ground. Eddie knows he shouldn’t look back, but he sneaks a peak over his shoulder and… yep. He really shouldn’t’ve looked. He’s not that high up, but it’s enough that if he falls, he’d be feeling it tomorrow. Might even bust an ankle if he landed wrong.

He turns back to the task at hand; getting to Steve.

There’s a terrifying moment where he’s not sure if he can pull himself up, but somehow, he finds the strength to do just that. If only Coach D’Amour could see him now!

He grunts as he pulls himself up onto the platform, belly getting scratched against the grates as he goes. Eddie scrambles to get his legs underneath himself. Then, he stands, dusts himself off and takes the win, graceless as it was.

The fire escape is rickety and fucking loud as he takes the steps two at a time. It’s cold enough that even the quickest touch of the steel railings drains all the heat out of his fingers, so he just keeps them balled up, swinging at his sides. The wind is especially chilly up here too, something he hadn’t noticed on the ground, but now that he’s up a couple of floors there wasn’t anything for the wind to buff off except the side of the building and, well, Eddie.

By the time he reaches the third floor, his nose is running and no doubt red and irritated looking, and he’s woefully out of breath.

Kind of a pathetic knight, he thinks as he sniffs back the worst of it, wipes the underside of his nose on the sleeve of his jacket to get rid of what’s left.

The light in Steve’s room is on, reaching out to him through the lines of Steve’s shut blinds.

His hand is raised, wind-chapped knuckles knocking against the glass of his window before he can plan out what he’s going to say. He just wants to see Steve. Get eyes on him again. Work this out.

It’s a painful few seconds before Eddie can see movement from inside the window. He bounces on the balls of his feet as he impatiently waits for Steve to let him in. His breath fogs the window.

Then finally. Finally! The blinds are pulled up. He smiles and—

Oh Christ on a cross. That’s not Steve.

Eddie’s stomach damn near falls out of his ass as the woman on the other side of the glass screams, as shrill and high as if she were next to him.

And of course she’s in a fucking towel.

Eddie slaps one hand across his eyes and the other up in surrender, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Shit, Jesus, I—I’m not a pervert, I swear!”

Debatable, his brain supplies, entirely unhelpful in an emergency situation. But hey, what’s new?

“I was looking for my friend, not—Please stop screaming!” He screams.

“Eddie?” A familiar voice calls from below.

The hand on Eddie’s eyes lift and looks down through the metal grates under his boots. “Steve!”

Steve’s hanging half out his window, peering up at him with a bewildered expression on his face. “What’re you doing?”

Eddie holds his arms out like it should be obvious. “Seeing you!” He snaps.

Eddie’s attention is briefly yanked back to the scandalized looking woman in the window in front of him. “I’m—yeah, I’m gonna—” He backs away, and swings around the escape before thundering down the stairs, shouting another apology up in his shameful retreat.

Steve backs up in order to let Eddie in. He climbs in as gracelessly as ever, all knees and elbows, stiff from the cold. He slides the window shut behind him once he’s in, dropping the blinds for good measure.

He wonders if Hopper is getting a call about a long-haired, wild-eyed, deranged looking peeping Tom at this very moment.

“Smooth.” Steve says from behind him, an edge of playfulness.

When Eddie turns and finally gets a good look at Steve, who looks especially comfortable in his flannel sleep pants and worn sweater, hands on hips. “I was looking for you.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Steve snorts softly, “third floor, remember?”

“I counted! Ground floor, first floor, second floor, third floor.” Eddie says, using his hand to indicate his pattern of thought, moving it up a tick with each floor.

Steve scoffs, shaking his head. And even though Eddie knows Steve’s laughing at him, he can’t help that warm feeling that pours through him, filling him up. All his cracks and edges, sealed up with Steve’s effortless being.

“No.” Steve raises his own hand, mirroring Eddie’s. He begins notching as he explains, “ground floor, second floor, third floor. The ground is the first floor, dude.”

Eddie frowns. “What? Since when?”

Steve levels Eddie with a flat look. “Since like, the civil war, dude.”

Huh. Eddie frowns. Mulling over the new bit of information. That would’ve been nice to know.

“Why were you even doing out there in the first place? We have things called front doors. And, y’know, phones.” Steve crosses his arms across his chest, losing a bit of steam as the words left him. Like he’s realized exactly what Eddie being here, in his rooms, meant.

“I had to see you.” Eddie says, like it’s not the most obvious thing in the world, “Face to face, just me and you.”

“Can’t we just—I don’t know, pretend all of… that never happened? Hell, it might drop out of my head one of these days anyway. Lots of shit does.” Steve’s says, sounding so fucking defeated that it sends a sharp pain through Eddie’s chest.

“Hey,” Eddie makes a face, gets in Steve’s space, “don’t be a jerk to yourself.”

He ducks his head in an attempt to meet Steve’s downturned gaze, which he reluctantly returns. He’s got these big, warm eyes, the color of dark honey—the kind that are hard to look away from, so Eddie rarely does. He’a got a staring problem, he knows, but… damn. Can you really blame a guy?

A nerve in Steve’s jaw jumps when he clenches his teeth together, and salt pools begin forming along the rim of those familiar eyes. When he speaks, it’s stiff. Barely above a whisper. “I’m embarrassed, alright?”

“You don’t gotta be embarrassed, man.” Without thought, Eddie’s hands go to Steve’s arms, fingers hovering around his elbows. Eddie tilts his head again to try and keep eye contact again but Steve seems determined to avoid it.

“Easy for you to say.” Steve huffs, and sits down on the edge of his bed, slipping out of Eddie’s hold, arms still crossed over his chest. “You didn’t totally humiliate yourself in front of your—friend.”

The word, one in which Eddie holds in a most sacred of views, sounds distinctly hollow when Steve says it.

“Steve, listen to me, just for a sec, alright?” Eddie gets down to the floor, one knee buried in the carpet while the others bent out in front of him. “This is my fault.” He confesses, voice full of remorse.

Finally, Steve looks at him. His brows twitch together as he makes a face. “Bullshit.”

“No, it’s true! I—I didn’t mean to, but I’m not exactly big on the whole impulse control thing, as you know, and, thinking back on things I probably… I probably let a few things slip.” Eddie explains, his rings clinking together lightly as he gestures with his hands.

Steve, however, doesn’t look any less confused. He blinks. “What?”

Eddie lets his head fall forward in a moment of defeat as he attempts to gather up his fleeting thoughts. It’s like chasing wet, feral cats up there!

Still, he picks himself back up. For Steve.

“What I’m trying to say is…” Eddie puts his hands on Steve’s knees. Feels the warmth under the soft, worn flannel. The hard muscle. Alive, whole. He tightens his grip. “Steve, I’ve been crazy about you since the first time I ever saw you. Don’t roll your eyes—I’m serious! You sat in front of me in math one year and you forgot your pencil. We were having a test that day, and you asked me if you could borrow one of mine, so I let you have the one I was using. You chewed up the end of it, squashed the eraser to all hell, but then when you gave it back to me, you smiled, thanked me and said, ‘I owe you one.’ It—okay, yeah, so it sounds, like, really small, and probably pretty pathetic, but… I was totally starstruck, man.”

At some point in his little spiel, Steve had uncrossed his arms. So Eddie takes the opportunity to clumsily take Steve’s hands, his insides feeling like a kicked hornets nest. Buzzing. He swallows. “I still am.”

Steve keeps his mouth shut, but there’s a knot in him that’s loosening, Eddie can tell. He’s just gotta keep tugging. He squeezes Steve’s fingers.

“The feeling was cranked up a few hundred clicks because of all the, y’know, near death experiences we went through together. But you get it now, right? You get how this is all my fault?”

“Eddie, you don’t have to—” Steve starts, hands stiffening in Eddie’s hold. Slipping away. But Eddie holds firm, decides to just fucking say it. If Steve could, Eddie could too.

“I’m in love with you too.” He blurts out, and now that he’s said it out loud, it’s like there’s a dam that gets busted inside of him; he can’t stop the rush of words that follows the confession. “That’s what you were seeing. That’s what you were noticing. I thought I was being slick, just keeping it friendly or whatever. Flirting, yeah, but I didn’t think you’d ever actually reciprocate. Because, honestly man, I’m not really used to people taking me all that seriously. ‘Zany, pot-head Eddie, can’t trust anything that comes out of his crooked mouth!’”

Eddie shakes his head, scoffing at his own blind spots, “But… you saw right through that shit—right through me. You didn’t make it up in your head, Steve—you felt it. You were right.”

Steve’s got a funny look on his face, but he nods. A lock of hair falls over his forehead, but he doesn’t remove his hands from Eddie’s to fix it. “You love me?”

That’s like asking if the sun would rise tomorrow morning. Of course. Of course.

Eddie pulls one of Steve’s hands and flattens it onto his chest, over the leather.

“Every time my heart beats, it's your name it calls out, man.” Eddie says, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he sees the red creep up on the apples of Steve’s cheeks. “D’you feel it?”

Steve gives a breathless chuckle, hesitating for a split second before he nods, playing along.

Electricity hums under Eddie’s skin, the resulting static snaps in the air around them. Eddie presses Steve’s hand against the wall of his chest a little harder, so that he can feel the pounding a bit better. Then Eddie whispers in time with the rhythm of his lovesick heart, giving it a voice, “Ste-vie, Ste-vie, Ste-vie…”

He keeps chanting until Steve’s grinning, eyes glued to their joined hands. It’s a fleeting thing, though. Eddie watches as that hard-won smile drops and a pinched look takes its place. “Even now? Eddie, I’m not—I don’t think I’m the same person I was before.”

“Are you kidding me? Especially now. In sickness and in health, right?” Somewhere in his brain an alarm sounds, but he doesn’t pause long enough to acknowledge exactly why, lest he lose momentum, “look, Steve, even if you are a little different from the guy you were in high school, you’re still you.”

A beat passes. “What if I never get better?”

“Steve, you will, the doctors said—”

“But what if I don’t? Jesus, Eddie, what if I get worse?” Steve’s voice had gone progressively more hushed as he spoke, as if he were so afraid of its possibility that even voicing it felt risky. Made it real, even in that small way. It’s something Steve’s thought about, Eddie realizes. Agonized over, even.

“Then I’m the lucky son of a bitch that gets to take care of you.” Eddie says, sure as shit. Truthfully, he can’t think of anything else he’d rather do, even if Steve hadn’t done a completely insane thing like falling in love with Eddie. His love isn’t conditional. “S’long as you’ll let me.” He tacks on.

It’s like a wall crumbling. Brick by brick, Eddie watches Steve’s resolve collapse. The rim of his eyes shine with unshed tears, his brow relaxes and his chin twitches. “You sure you want that?”

He scoffs, eyes wide. “It’s all I want.” He answers, quickly. A reflex. Who wouldn’t want to be with Steve Harrington? Eddie thought he was lucky just to be in the same fucking orbit as the guy, but now…

Now, as he watches a smile slowly spreads across Steve’s face—fucking Adonis incarnate—it feels like he won the goddamn lottery.

“Okay.” Steve utters, so softly that for a second Eddie thinks he’d imagined it.

“Okay?” Eddie asks, trying his damndest to keep from imploding. He’s fucking vibrating in his skin.

Instead of answering Eddie, Steve decides to clarify himself by leaning forward and pressing his mouth against Eddie’s.

Fireworks go off inside of Eddie, every inch of him. All lit up. Feels like he’s shining just as good as any knight.

One of Steve’s hands snake their way behind Eddie’s neck, pulling him closer, while the other remains held over Eddie’s jackrabbiting heart. Their lips part, and their kiss deepens. Eddie tries to keep up.

They eventually end up on Steve’s narrow twin bed laying side by side, legs entangled, kissing until their mouths go dry. Eddie swipes a calloused thumb over Steve’s cheek, savoring the feeling of the barely there stubble, the heat from the blush that never seems to subside.

They don’t speak for the rest of the night. Not even a ‘goodnight’ after Steve crawls over Eddie to flick off his bedside lamp, tugging the comforter up around their shoulders as he settles back into the safe harbor of Eddie’s arms. They don’t need words. Not tonight, anyway. Tonight, all they need to do is to rest.

Whatever comes after, they’ll deal with it together.

—

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[katyawriteswhump]

the freak in the penthouse, part 3.2

E-rated (for sexual content), accidental millionaire eddie/sex-worker steve.

On tumblr: Part one Part two Part three.one or search #thefreakinthepenthouse

On AO3

3.2 Who’d wanna hire an asthmatic call-boy?

“You broke your no-music rule,” Steve murmured into Eddie’s ear, arms looping up around Eddie’s neck as they swayed to the unfamiliar rock song.

“My penthouse, my rules.”

“Anything you say, bat-boy.”

“Say what?”

“The tats.” Steve nibbled Eddie’s collarbone. Steve never knew he’d gotten a thing for tattoos, let alone nasty-ass demons and skulls and bats and shit. Last night, however, they’d totally bewitched him, and now… “Fucking delicious, Eddie. I wanna lick every inch of your skin. What d’ya say to that, Sweety-kins?”

"You're goooood, Stevie. I almost believe ya."

Steve peeped up. Eddie poked his tongue out, kinda silly. Joke was, though, Steve genuinely craved it. Jesus, he’d not wanted to actually be with anybody in so damn long. Still, he couldn’t blot out something Robin said earlier, "It’s just another form of Stockholm syndrome, Steve. He's paying you for sex. Don’t go down that spiral."

His tongue scraped up Eddie’s throat, chafed along the line of Eddie’s jaw, finding those lips, plundering that mouth. His fingers glided into Eddie’s hair, twisting, tangling and clinging, while Eddie kissed enthusiastically back.

You know what, Robin—I’ll spiral if I gotta, because he’s still the best thing that’s happened to me in years. Who cares about being thrown away with the trash tomorrow, when you’re already three-fifty in profit, and Christ knows… heck, YOU know… I need the money.

They wound up naked in the foamy plunge pool. Steve sprawled on top of Eddie, taking Eddie’s face in his hands as he basically sucked it off. When they broke for air, Steve mumbled, “You lied, man. It’s not big enough to swim in.”

“Seen bigger, huh?” panted Eddie.

Well, duh! I used to have my own swimming pool ten times this size.

He wedged his hand between Eddie's thighs. “Depends what we’re talking about.”

“Bet you say that to all the dames.”

“Nah. Just you.”

They kissed again, splashed about and grappled, till Eddie landed on top, pinning Steve beneath him.  Eddie was insane levels of adorable with his hair flattened like a wet pup, rendering those kind chocolate eyes stupid-huge. He’d gotten soap suds everywhere, including on the tip of his nose, from where Steve—awkwardly gyrating his dick against Eddie’s from beneath—began licking it off.

Bad move.

The shitty suds caught in his throat, and he started to cough. Uuuuuurgh! Why today? WHY NOW? Whose dumbass idea was the hot-tub?

Oh yeah. Mine. 

He squirmed out from under Eddie and turned away to gather himself, leaning on the side of the pool.

Eddie’s gentle hand on his shoulder startled him: “Hey, take it easy. You okay?” 

“Yeah… Jesus, I’m fine. Fucking stupid bubbles.” He swallowed hard, blinked to clear the moisture from his eyes. “Where were we?”

Eddie leaned back, his arms spread along the back of the tub, his legs floating and his hips elevated. His dick bobbed needily on the bubbly surface of the tub, and the hopeful smile on his face said it all. 

He wanted Steve to blow him.

Which wasn’t a problem. Christ, choking on soap suds shouldn’t trigger an attack or anything. On the other hand, it had unsettled Steve. And ordering his prevention meds wasn’t the same as taking them.

Screw it, though. He’d muscle through. He usually did.

He glided between Eddie’s legs, knees on the bottom of the tub, water lapping his chin as he nuzzled into the hair above Eddie’s dick. He focussed on Eddie’s little grunts, the way he jerked his hips up, his dick beating ripples across the surface. Steve slid his lips over Eddie’s cockhead, and Eddie instantly pressed toward Steve’s throat. Steve’s lower lip was already on the water line, the water splashing into his face, stinging his eyes.

You can do this.

He swallowed Eddie’s shaft deep, which went badly, as it somehow forced more suds up his nose.

Crap! No, you moron. You really can’t fucking do this.

He slid his lips free, gasped, coughed then goddamn wheezed. What’s wrong with you tonight? You total, pathetic loser!

“Steve?” Eddie’s formerly blissed-out eyes stretched wide. “You okay? You need some water?”

“No. M’fine.” Eddie was coming at him, tentatively reaching for him. Steve gathered the strength to shove him back, thudded his own chest, then slid his hand to his ass. He’d prepped before coming in, in case Eddie hadn’t been in the mood for slow and sweet tonight. Plus, he was wet and soapy.

This was still gonna hurt, mind. But if he couldn’t give a blowjob without flaking out and freaking like a pussy, he’d not got much choice.

Eddie still looked worried. “You sure you’re fine?”

“Never better,” purred Steve.  “Look, sorry about that. Gonna treat you so good, Eddie Munson, your cock’s gonna wanna pay rent on my ass by the year.”

“Huh?”

THAT WAS THE SHITTEST LINE IN THE HISTORY OF EVER!

“Just relax, Eddie-babes. Gonna ride you to fucking heaven and back.”  

Steve rolled the condom onto Eddie’s erection himself this time. He awkwardly straddled Eddie’s lap, lined himself up, gritted his teeth. With his top-draw ‘I-love-how-you-hurt-me’ cry, he impaled himself to the hilt on Eddie’s cock and started riding him like a cowgirl. 

Yeah, it hurt. Always did, taking somebody so quick, so deep, with gravity definitely not his friend. He grinded away at Eddie, already feeling that dull gnawing ache in his back that wouldn’t fade for hours, and—

“Steve? You… uh… uh… fuck, yeah… You s-sure you’re okay?”

“Fine!”

Eddie looked slightly anxious, which was totally not what Steve was going for. Then he realized why.

Eddie was staring at Steve’s dick. 

Steve’s totally soft dick.

A strange embarrassment shot through Steve, even as he kept riding Eddie, arms aching as he levered himself up and down. His hard labor was paying off, though. Eddie’s eyes rolled upward:

“Stevie, uh… uh… Yes… Oh my God… yessss… b-but… Hey, let me, okay?”

Steve’s arms almost buckled in bewilderment. Most Johns hadn’t given a damn if Steve came or not. Most hadn’t even given a damn if he was literally choking on their cock, unless teeth became an issue.

Eddie, however, grasped Steve’s dick and began to frisk it: “Jesus… Eddie… Yes… Wow.”

Eddie proved pretty skilled in the hand-job department, emphasising the upstroke—always the best part for Steve—pausing only to chafe his thumb across Steve’s super-sensitive slit. Eddie’s awesomeness soon outweighed Steve’s discomfort, coaxing him into full-on erection, until…

“Oh shiiiiiit, yes, Eddieeeeee!”

“Come for me, Sweetheart… Jesus, you’re too good. Too good for meeeee…. Fuuuuuuck!”

Steve’s frantic gaze locked tight on Eddie’s and he streaked messily across Eddie’s tattooed chest. Almost simultaneously, Eddie peaked too, buried deep up Steve’s ass. After that, Steve’s arms really did give way. He slid off Eddie and flopped forward, totally dizzied. It was hard enough coping with a strenuous cowgirl session coupled with the challenges of a pool. Dealing with the aftermath of his own orgasm on top of that?

Too damn much. Too damn good.

He snuggled bonelessly, his head in the crook of Eddie’s neck. Cool water lapped his chest. God, how had Eddie managed to transform a scary nightmare of a session into something Steve actually enjoyed?

I guess they all have their weird kinks. He’ll turn out like half the others and want to slap you around tomorrow.

It was hard to believe, though, especially as Eddie whispered: “You did so good, Stevie. You’re sooooo good to me.”

“You really are a freak, you know that?” said Steve.

Chapter 4 on AO3

Chapter 4.1 on tumblr

...

On tumblr: Part one Part two Part three.one or search #thefreakinthepenthouse

On AO3 All my ST stuff on AO3

Likes reblogs and comments much appreciated and will feed the bunnies🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕

[magaprima]

MY COMFORT LIST.

Comfort food(s): I don't really have comfort food as food isn't something I go for when I'm stressed or sad, I tend to lose my appetite, but foods I love to indulge in when treating myself or just being greedy are chocolate, chips (fries to non-UK people), cheesecake, bagels, pancakes, veggie sushi,

Comfort drink(s): Pink Lucozade, G-Spot, Green Cola,

Comfort movie(s): The Little Mermaid (1989). Pocahontas. I love a lot of movies, and I find comfort in many, but those are the two I go to when I'm sad or having an anxiety attack, they instantly calm me. Animations are big in my comfort movie-wise, particularly ones from my childhood. Jurassic Park is a non-animation comfort film. Most things with Rita Hayworth. And Christopher Robin.

Comfort show(s): Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, The X Files, Bones, Brooklyn Nine Nine, Golden Girls,

Comfort clothing: I don't have any particular clothes for comfort, but I definitely have jewellery. I have bracelets with certain fictional characters on them and I wear different ones depending on which character I need to take strength from. I always wear my grandmother's diamond ring and her amythest ring, and my mother's wedding ring (she's alive, she's just divorced and doesn't like the ring haha). I always have certain necklaces I wear. And I have my ear lobes pierced twice on both sides, and in the second piercing, I always have earrings that are either crystals or mermaid themed (special interest comfort zone)

Comfort song(s: Judge me all you like but putting on Taylor Swift music instantly calms me, I think it's the poetry of the lyrics so my mind instantly starts saying the words along with her. Also the full Legacy soundtracks (that have complete scores) of The Little Mermaid, Pocahontas, Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Comfort book(s): Oh god I can't list them all. Every book is a comfort book to me. But I love all the Tempe Brennan books, I love my Jane Austen, I love the Ingo books, I love Terry Pratchett (Particular the witch books or Death ones), I love Agatha Christie, I freaking adore The Invocations which is the best new novel I've read all year, Dracula and Treasure Island are two classics I reread very often, the list goes on! I can't live without my many, many, MANY books.

Comfort game(s): I'm not a gamer. I never had games as a child or any gamestation, and I don't have any now, so I have zero knowledge here. Does Disney Speedstorm on mobile count? It's like Disney meets Mario?

TAGGED BY. @v011d

TAGGING.

[ishikawayukis]

fr anxiety has been a little shit but I think I’m managing lately, could definitely be worse lol but I’m glad you’re doing better!! :’)

es que a veces la gente realmente me sorprende con lo ciega que decide estar JAJAJAJAJAJA literal en wano mostraron tantos momentos que te demuestran cuánto realmente se aprecian y respetan pero la gente solo se fija en “okay pero quién es más fuerte porque entonces el otro no sirve” kskfbekfj??!!? I’m so done with these people I might throw hands one day lol

JAJAJAJAJAJA por un momento me sentí mal pero luego recordé “la verdad es que me tomó casi un año creo que si logré controlarme” JAJAJAJA ALSO THE FREAKING DRUMS DAMMITTTT🗣️‼️‼️‼️ yo sabía que en wano tenía que aparecer gear 5 y pues por los fanarts me imaginé que Joyboy era el nombre como Snakeman or whatever PERO CUANDO LLEGA ZUNESHA Y DICE “I can hear them, it’s been so long” o algo así yo dije juepuya hoy si JAJAJAJAJAJA that was truly amazing I loved it, the animation was *chef’s kiss* literal volví a ver ese momento como unas tres veces porque amo la animación de g5🫶🏽 pero si Luffy el mc ideal, nadie más tonto e inteligente que él JAJAJA

istg it is a challenge to ignore them and remind yourself that they’re literally not understanding the plot or the characters at all, pero la recompensa es de vez en cuando ver teorías locas y reírte porque no, no va a pasar pero que matado de risa que esta fue su conclusión amigos JAJAJAJAJ Franky is the best I sweaaaar necesito más momentos de Franky, Soul King, Jinbe, idk I have a soft spot and respect for all the over 30 strawhats they are everything🫶🏽

si cuando volví a ver ese primer episodio de thriller bark y Luffy de una invitando a Brook sin saber nada de él me mató de risa otra vez JAJAJAJAJAJA like I remember I did find everything funny and nonsensical as always, pero volverlo a ver me dio más risa porque es recordar que Luffy solo viene por las vibes y la verdad es lo que deberíamos de hacer, vivir la vida y disfrutarla sin tener que tomarla en serio 24/7

YES YES YES LITERALLY THE MAGIC GIRL TREATMENT🫶🏽✨ amé ese momento tanto y efectivamente le sigue cuando Hawkins y Drake lo ven e inmediatamente “bro is that THE stealth black??? IM FIGHTING STEALTH BLACK??✨” JAJAJAJAJAJAAJ los verdaderos fanboys, Oda por favor dame más momentos así JAJAJAJA Y SI AAAAAAAA cuando Sanji empezó a tener su breakdown yo literal queriendo que cualquiera apareciera y le diera una cachetada y luego un abrazo porque no, ya establecimos que te queremos por ser tú ya BASTA JAJAJAJA más con la promesa que hizo con Zoro ay no, yo asumí que concluyeron que ya no bc I want to be delusional and happy that nothing bad is going to happen JABJAJAJ más que le dice “I came back from hell to kill you” OKAY??? JUST FOR HIM THO?????? cómo ser Sanji para que Zoro regrese de la muerte por mí la verdad 😔✌🏽 JAJAJAJAJAJ

if you end up throwing hands please let me know so that i can join you LMAO

casi un año es lo normal diría yo AJJAJA i just went a little insane and had a lot of free time and didn't want to Think LMAO the gear5 animation is honestly the best fucking thing and soooooo so luffy too, and can you believe once again that the dudebros hate it because it's "too goofy and not serious enough" like my guys pLEASE none of you are allowed to watch this show anymore

i just knoooooooow franky, brook, jinbe and robin all have a little 30+ group that no one else is allowed to join where they rest from their captain's nonsense and zosan constant fighting for a little while LMAO

literally oda give us more silly moments and my life is yours LMAO noooooo esq esa promesa y zoro literal diciendo volví sólo por ti? i know what you are 👁👁 but also soooo many people do think is gonna end up happening and i'm like hey man why do you love pain, why are you like this who hurt you man

[peachmusesa]

" perhaps i shall pay them a visit then ?" still she frowns. " it's strange however. that that girl -- cassandra -- is readily accepted and you are not. she was raised by worse monsters than you were and yet they trust her. " it makes no sense. yes. she'll talk to them. ( and she hopes / that oracle is on the other line of that mask freaking out. ) after all. talia al ghul makes no idle threats. a hand comes to cover her face, hiding her laughter. " as i've stated, i was enchanted by the fact that that man sticks to his code. it's unusual for someone of our upbringing to see it. usually, everyone has a breaking point, little bird, i never did manage to find your fathers. i for sure thought it would be the second robin -- and it almost was, but instead it was nightwing's. " oh yes, get all that information out to the entire batcave if they're listening and talia al ghul is never wrong. " and i saved him - that second robin - because he was important. the pits of course had an unfortunate side effect of messing with his memories which i could not account for so i trained him personally and sent him back certain he would go back to gotham to reunite. he did not, as you know. " she leans her head on her son, lets the scent of vanilla waft around the two, " love makes you do stupid things, dames. " like ask about the grandfather. she doesn't stiffen but her eyes soften as they stare out at the horizon, " he is getting better. " and crankier by the day. " he still does not recognize that women can be just as powerful as men. do not make that mistake, as you grow. "

he's blood thirsty, a weapon, not even a child. that is how he's seen by everyone here but one person that isn't his mother. but he worries if he speaks of jon, or the kents, she might grow too fearful for his safety. fighting clowns is one thing, fighting aliens... that's another story. so he'll save that topic for another day, when mother isn't so joyful about their reunion. he doesn't want to ruin it.

which is a train of thought that has damian making a face at the accusation. he was indeed too excited like a child for his food but he must man up and say that. right? "tch! of course you wouldn't, mother. i know that. no need to check." (wonderful responsibility there, damian.)

"they're irritating little fools. they don't trust me. why would they when even father doesn't. honestly, mother, why did you ever put up with him?" he's a little too honest there. but he's wiggling himself to sit besides her; comfortable and happy. when was the last time he was happy without conditions or a scolding father judging him for his choices? (oh... the kents. he really cannot mention that.)

"i'll have to hide the food at home you know, it'll be like a fun mission." he sways his feet over the edge of the rooftop. "...how's grandfather?" does he miss me at all? a part of him wants to ask. the tiniest flicker of hope that maybe grandfather will care for them both. like real family. it's a foolish hope yet... well, damian is still a child.

[kimyoonmiauthor]

10 Major Objections to “Turning Red” from White Christian Right

Notice I’m not Chinese or Canadian, but I thought I’d do a break down of the objections and why they are ridiculous.

And no, I’m not stupid enough to say, I’ve been to Toronto a few times, watched a few movies from there, and I know Chinese people! --;; I’m going to analyze the claims.

1. OMG, Mother is so mean

- She takes a journal/diary

If you paid attention, she thinks that the diary is her homework. And then becomes outraged at the age gap between her daughter and the daughter’s crush and doesn’t understand these are things that didn’t actually happen.

Her daughter is THIRTEEN. The Guy is SEVENTEEN. Are you saying the age gap is appropriate? BTW, parents who were flipping out over Meilin having sexual thoughts. The movie indicates she had thoughts of touching her crush’s bare chest. That’s it. And this is the worst thing ever?

- She brings pads to the school

She thought Meilin was going through her period, not that she turned into a red panda. All she does is mention pads, not menstruation, not the anatomy of the uterus, etc. She’s *proud* of her daughter growing up in that instance and is freaking out, rather than body shaming her. Symbolically, it also works because she didn’t inform her daughter about the red panda situation and thought it was “too soon” but kids can get menses as soon as 7. BTW, teaching about basic anatomy helps prevent child abuse and sexual abuse.

- Mother turns into a Monster

Because apparently, this didn’t happen in Brave either? It became a symbolism of her overprotectiveness which was explained after it dissolved. She was afraid in much the same way her mother was overprotective of her. Did you miss the scene in the Bamboo forest where it explains her motivations.

2. OMG, It talks about Puberty

You mean a 13 year old, which is considered really late these days since people with uteruses are having it at 7 years old sometimes, shouldn’t talk about puberty?

3. OMG, The child is so defiant against their mother

Like every YA book ever. Name me a YA book without horrible parents. There is a shorter list for parents that are good and healthy than ones that are horrible. Teens rebel. The first declared YA book has teen doing drugs, swearing a lot worse than saying crap, having sex, etc: The Outsiders by SE Hinton. It’s a YA staple.

4. OMG, Pixar has gone “woke”

Toronto, the city it’s based in, is culturally, ethnically, and filled with diversity. Have you been there? There is a huge Chinese population. Why not reflect the truth of the city that the scriptwriter/director grew up in?

5. OMG, there is Paganism (not like the other wholesome Pixar movies)

Brave, Brother Bear, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, Tangled, Pinocchio, Frozen, Dumbo, Bambi, Lady and the Tramp, Cinderella, Alice in Wonderland, Peter Pan, The Sword and the Stone, Fantasia, The Jungle Book, The Aristocats, Robin Hood, The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, The Rescuers, The Fox and the Hound, The Black Cauldron, the Great Mouse Detective, Oliver and Company, the Little Mermaid, Ducktales, the Rescuers Downunder, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, The Lion King, Pocahontas, Toy Story, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Hercules, Mulan, A Bug’s Life, Tarzan, Lilo and Stitch, (Helped with Spirited Away), Finding Nemo, The Incredibles, etc. almost all of the animated series have some form of paganism. Because you know that the story of Cinderella was somehow not based in Paganism? It has a Fairy Godmother! OMG, it’s paganism. *sighs* You know what the problem actually is? A Person of color setting a fantasy in a modern city and showing their real world cultural belief system.

6. OMG, it doesn’t center men.

Because 70% of the market share for white people isn’t enough and all of those movies about white men isn’t enough.

If you look at the list, some movies did center men, some didn’t, but the majority for women and girls were not directed by women. Isn’t that the real problem you have? Cinderella wasn’t about a man. Are you going to die because they don’t sexualize a 13 year-old girl? How sick are you?

7. But it’s not for little kids.

It’s rated PG, it’s your fault for not checking the rating. It’s also not on the Disney for kids account. You want to park your kids in front of a TV, but not do actual parenting. Your kids should have seen mommy putting in period pads/tampons into the cart before.

8. *tears* Other Disney movies don’t have terrible mothers. Walt Disney wouldn’t allow a movie like this.

Most of the parents are step mothers. Like Cinderella and lock her in her room and do child abuse. Literal Child abuse. Or they are dead. Like Bambi’s mother. Or Nemo’s mother. Or absent. Like Sleeping Beauty. Look at the animated movie list and tell me where the functional mothers are.

The only non-abusive, living or non-absent mother is 101 Dalmations--a movie about animal abuse (and her children are kidnapped for most of that movie, so the non-absent part can be considered questionable). And that’s a non-talking dog. (I’m skipping the straight to VHS/DVD)

But a Chinese mom feeling overprotective of her child is too much. *clutch those pearls* Because she hasn’t realized her child is growing up, figuring boundaries and finding her own way on her own terms, but doesn’t know where the balance point is. You prefer the movies with literal child abuse. The ones that make them do all the chores, isolate them in towers, try to kill them with poisoned apples to a mother who hasn’t understood yet that her child is growing up and wants to hold on. Much like the movie Brave. Wait, Brave had a white mother... Oh, maybe it’s racism?

9. “My Panda, My Choice”

It’s about bodily autonomy and the theory of that. Also, symbolically, it’s about acceptance of her heritage, rather being embarrassed about it and bodily changes. Notice the symbolism of the red panda shifts during the movie.

10. That ending though... there’s no conclusion

Like puberty is a process. The protagonist is 13, she’s not done with puberty yet. Also fits with qichengzhuanhe, where the ending is a result, an acceptance, not a conclusion.

In the end, the change arc is for both Meilin and her mother, Ming. Usually in Disney movies prior to the 2000′s the parents got no change arc. This was because they were dead, ineffectual, plain mean, abusive, or completely absent. But both Meilin and her mother radically change together and figure out their changing relationship. So it’s not only about puberty for the daughter, it’s also how parents handle puberty can make a difference. Meilin got punished by the plotline for defying her mother, but the mother also got punished by the plotline for being overprotective. The mother wasn’t purely mean--there was a sweet moment at the beginning of the movie where they showed what the old routine was. Both mother and daughter overshot in both directions, trying to find where the middle ground is. I would think that’s parenting too--how do you roll with the changes. And that’s also why the ending works. They figured out the boundaries and are trying to fix the problems they caused, much like puberty causes problems and you have to learn the boundaries and how to fix them or you’ll find your relationships are broken.

Really, I think the parents objecting are scared because they see themselves in the mother figure. Overprotecting their kids and don’t want to face their children will change and have to face these topics that the movie brings up. But the job of a parent is to help kids learn how to cope with the world around them. And really, they should be able to see themselves in the kids portrayed, because it’s set in the early 2000′s, and in the mother too. This is without the immigrant aspect compounding things.

But I really do think the largest objection is a WOC-made movie about puberty set in the modern era about girls of color and women of color. And if that’s the case because you somehow forgot Disney’s full catalog and some of the more questionable choices, such as Pocahontas, then you really need to check yourself. They aged her up to 16 from 10-11 and made her like a 30-year-old man, aged down to his early 20′s... and uh... 16 and 20 is still a questionable age gap.

[kimberly-spirits13]

Dating Damian Wayne HC:

(imma do one for all of the guys I just had the writing idea for Dames first)

How You Met: Artist credit @axeeeee​

.        You went to Gotham Academy before him

.        You were also making sure that you were top of the class and also maintaining class president

.        Anyways, it was just something that you pushed yourself for

.        Arts was another strength for you but that was something that you weren’t as inclined to maintain on an extreme level like everything else

.        So it was your job to show the new people around the school before their first day which meant that you were showing Damian around

.        Your parents already knew Bruce so you weren’t really freaked out at all

.        It was just another day tbh

.        That was until you met him

.        It was weird since you were more of the person to not talk much about yourself

.        No one really knew who you were and you were content to keep it that way

.        Everyone’s friend but no one knew who you were really

.        Damian was kind of the same way but not as friendly or open to people

.        He was like the younger you

.        Still, for some reason you were interested in him just as a person

.        He was as well

.        You didn’t immediately hit it off seeing as you are both reserved and closed off when it comes to personal things, but you hit it off faster than any one else

.        A miracle in all honesty

.        So you started hanging out and eating together in the lunchroom instead of either with a group or alone

.        It was nice and then evolved over time

Friendship:

.        So after a few months, you guys were getting closer and closer

.        It was something that you just expected to happen and when it did you were ready

.        You were starting to hang out outside of school whether that was at your place, the park, his house, maybe a café on a weekend

.        Just anywhere

.        If there were any galas, Damian would invite you and you him since you didn’t really feel great inviting anyone else

.        Sometimes galas had this secret mandatory code to bring someone so it was nice to finally have someone to bring

.        The media was all over it

.        It was honestly really weird for a second and then you just accepted it

.        Damian and yourself slowly started opening up to each other about everything

.        Depending on how fast you pick up on things and possibly if you’re also a vigilante, this is where you figure out that he’s Robin

.        He doesn’t call you by your last name anymore and instead by your first name which is fun

.        It’s an honor lol

.        If Damian is having an issue at the manor, you just have extra stuff for him to come over anytime

.        It’s always there and you make sure to get more when you see something’s running low

.        By the end of the friendship stage, you’re probably wearing each other’s clothes by now

.        He gets flustered sometimes though

.        That’s the first few signs

.        Also very protective but we’ll get into that

Signs:

.        So Damian now gets flustered?

.        Not something that you ever thought you’d see

.        Complimenting you too

.        It was a mutual thing that you both started doing more and more

.        Hanging around each other even more than before if that’s possible

.        He introduces you to his pets

.        All of them

.        Even Goliath

.        That was after watching random animal videos one night in the movie room of your house and seeing your reaction to them all

.        You bout died meeting Goliath

.        It was pretty awesome

.        Damian was so proud

.        Anyways, so you start getting more and more protective of each other

.        Any stupid girls from the Academy were getting immediately shut down

.        Same goes with the boys

.        For Damian he was always making sure that no one was messing with you or making you feel uncomfy

.        Death glares to all and smiles to none that tried it

.        That was both ways

.        Omg you guys have the death glare mastered

Confession/ Relationship:

.        So now that his brothers have caught on, they’re hell bent on getting you two together

.        So is Alfred and Bruce and that’s not typical at all

.        Everyone ships you and you both know it just won’t accept it

.        After some time though, you’re at this string of events and the press was just bombarding you for info on the relationship and whether or not you were dating

.        You said no every time and then just moved on

.        Damian noticed how much he missed you and loved seeing you thrive even from afar

.        It was kind of like oh shit I’d better say something now cause they’ve got everyone wrapped around their finger

.        So when you got back, he told you

.        It was kind of informal and unexpected

.        I mean finally but, out of the blue

.        You were thrilled

.        So basically from then on, it was wonderful

.        Sometimes his brothers might tease you two and post really just dorky things about you guys

.        Maybe one day it’s freaking out cause they found you in the movie room passed out on each other asleep with an older movie playing

.        Picture of you not being apart at all

.        The press loved it all

.        You guys loved it all

.        Now he’d spend the night all of the time but this time in your room, asleep, with you

.        Not just in some guest bedroom or in the same room but apart

.        Sleeping is actually a big thing since you both greatly lack it

.        You’ll sleep everywhere

.        The couch, a chair, the bed, in a car, on the floor sometimes, at a table just next to each other, anywhere

.        It was something that like your friendship just evolved over time

.        Eventually, you were taking vacations together during the holiday breaks and training together

.        Your families loved the other

.        Friend groups too

.        Sometimes you’d fight but typically it got resolved quickly

.        There was always this challenge of apologizing on Damian’s end even if it was really his fault since he just doesn’t know how to

.        He got better with that real quick

.        Basically, you just appreciate each other and see the other as your other half

.        Nothing gets in the way of that

.        Not even some stupid boy or girl hitting on the other or the media’s twisted perception of something taken out of proper context

.        Those are typically what more serious talks are about but they’re solved quickly

Dates:

.        You’re either going to a nice place or not staying in

.        There’s no in between

.        Either 5 star or the home theater at probably your place

.        He loves taking you nice places even if you’ve already been

.        Watching new movies

.        Or really bad ones just to judge them

.        Those are always really fun

.        Sometimes you might go for a coffee date and those are typically just spur of the moment type things

.        You might go to a gala and then go home and kick back

.        Either way it’s the best

.        Homemade treats and movies with a possible blanket fort and pillows everywhere over the couches in the movie room

.        There’s always a chance that they might get cut short for heroics but that doesn’t typically happen since someone covers Damian’s or your shift

Hero:

.        So if you’re a hero, it’s kind of an exhausting thing especially considering schooling and everything else

.        Sometimes you find yourself not getting sleep for days

.        There are times that you regret everything and Damian understands it all

.        He’s just terribly impressed that you can do all of this like he does

.        It’s great having someone like that

.        Both of you are extremely well trained which sometimes Damian questions where you got your training since it’s so similar to his and his father’s

.        Very calculated and precise every single time but also unpredictable which makes you dangerous

.        It’s something that you always use to your advantage

.        On nights that you patrol, you do it together and always tag team

.        Damian knows that you put up one hell of a fight, but he’d rather be there incase something happens then not at all and have something bad happen

.        Both of you are always stitching each other up and helping the other with nightmares

.        It’s just inevitable at this point

.        Staying over at each other’s places depending on how close you are or how badly injured

.        You always go to the manor if there’s something really bad that happened

.        That’s cause they have better medical equipment and Alfred who is a legend

.        Alfred can fix anything and if he can’t it’s to the hospital but that pretty much never happens

Routine?:

.        With everything, you have to have a routine

.        It’s very exact and important

.        In the morning, you both wake up together but not before hitting the snooze button three times

.        You have the alarm set early enough to be able to do this

.        Plus some time just to lay there for a second

.        Damian is typically the cutest and most tired in the morning

.        He hates them

.        If you’re washing your face or doing whatever, he’ll just hug you from behind and lean against your shoulder

.        Has fallen asleep before

.        Then you both eat and head off to school

.        After school, you go back to someone’s place to change into comfy clothes and complete homework which most is done at school since you wouldn’t have time otherwise

.        If you have a meeting to go to, you’ll go to that and then head back

.        After supper, it’s to patrol and then after two to three hours of that on average, you go back to one of your homes and shower typically together since you don’t have time to not

.        It’s easier and more time efficient so you’ve said

.        Also uses less hot water

.        Then, you check your phones for any other emergencies and head to bed

.        If you’re not a hero it’s basically the same thing but he comes into your room, locks the window again after he’s made sure everything is safe inside, creeps in your closet to get his nightclothes, looks at his phone for anything that might have happened since, goes to shower, and then gets into bed with you after making sure you’re okay without waking you up

.        When sleeping, you’re either touching slightly or just on top of each other in some way

.        Either way, you’re touching

.        He can’t have you far from him incase something happens

.        Never really sure what might happen, just that it could happen

.        Since he’s a light sleeper, if you shift or move around, he opens his eyes for a second to make sure you’re okay

.        That goes for hero or not

.        It’s really nice and sometimes he’ll come in and you’ll still be awake

.        Always asks why

.        “Dami, I’m always awake at this hour.”

.        “I know beloved, but you should sleep.”

.        “Well then let’s go.”

.        He’ll swing by for just a second during patrol to check in if you’re either grounded from patrol due to injury, sickness, just need a night off, or if you don’t do it

.        Texts you updates every now and then since he knows you worry and it helps him when he’s home and you’re patrolling

.        Basically keeps him from going insane so he does the same for you just incase

[danny-chase]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman (Comics), Batgirl (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Stephanie Brown & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Dick Grayson Characters: Stephanie Brown, Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon (momentarily), Alfred Pennyworth (mentioned) - Character Additional Tags: Stephanie Brown POV, Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Chocolate Milk, post mission talks, Damian Wayne is a brat with a heart of gold, Stitches, Canon Typical Violence, but not for long, because i like fluff better, Fluff, Stephanie Brown is Batgirl, Dick Grayson is Batman, Damian Wayne is Robin, Sneezing, Coughing, Dick Grayson is Damian Wayne's almost parent, Stephanie Brown is Damian Wayne's almost big sister, And kind of Dick's little sister Summary:

Steph hasn't worked with the new Batman and Robin duo long, but she doesn't hesitate to come when they call for backup. Their family's a little rough around the edges, but she'll do what she can to smooth things out.

“C’mon, faster!” Stephanie hated when Barbara seemed anxious, when she was anxious, generally something was about to go wrong. Really, really, wrong.

 “I’m homing in on the coordinates.” Barbara was driving on autopilot, but she couldn’t resist saying the line. Damian’s tracker blinked closer and closer. The kid had run off earlier that night, Dick, however, was getting better at predicting when it would happen and followed. She’d been on call for backup, Damian needed space, but he was also a magnet for trouble and unfortunately for them-

“Robin retreat! Retreat! Get out of here!” Dick screamed over the comms. The kid shouldn’t be out in the first place, still recovering from a concussion. She rounded the corner. Victor Zsasz was pushing forward aggressively trying to circumvent Batman to get a stab at Robin. Dick was holding his own but kept taking hits for a dazed looking Damian.

“Get Robin and get out! Maneuver 23.” Barbara commanded. She was seconds away, Zsasz was too close, she wasn’t going to make it, not going to make it-

 “CATCH!” She complied, automatically responding to Barbara’s harsh tone, spreading her arms as the bike swerved right.

 “JUMP!” Damian appeared to do the same with Dick, who tackled Zsasz out of range.

 “FUCK!” She yelled, because Damian jumped right into the path of her oncoming bike and-

 They grasped each other’s wrists in a practiced motion, using momentum to swing Damian onto the backseat of the bike.

 “Holy fuck.” She whispered. Hadn’t expected that to work. Sure, they’d done it a billion times practicing, but like… damn. That was freaking awesome. But also-

 “Are you okay?” She turned to look back at a pale Damian, blood staining the right side of his uniform. He nodded curtly, she could see a sheen of sweat glistening under the streetlights. It took him a moment to collect his thoughts.

 “We cannot retreat, Batman needs backup! Turn around at once!” He demanded, swaying in his spot. On a motorcycle. She might die for this, but she turned around, pulled him closer (surprisingly without argument) and started applying pressure to his side. One hand on the wound, the other keeping him propped upright. Maybe she would die, but Damian would fall off over her dead body.

 “Yeah no, I’m just gonna try to keep your blood on the inside till we get to the Bunker.” She felt a raindrop plop on her forehead, all the more reason to keep on course. Damian was already injured and tired, she would not be the one responsible for making his situation worse. “Then you can bleed out in peace.”

   Stephanie sighed as she swirled milk and cocoa together on the stove, rain pattering steadily outside. Where would she be if she’d had a normal father, or a normal life? She had a standing invite to some party; she could be out with friends. But some little gremlin child would have been murdered by Zsasz blocks away and no. She wouldn’t trade Damian’s life for normality. She was Stephanie Brown after all, abnormal was her middle name, and she accepted it with pride.

 Sure, she wasn’t mixing alcoholic drinks right now, but she was mixing chocolate milk and that was close enough. Damian clomped up the stairs, and angrily settled at the table. Think of the gremlin, and he shall appear.

 “You shouldn’t have retreated.” He muttered, slumping in the seat. His cheeks were already flush from the exertion of walking up the steps.

 “And you should go to bed.” He glared at her, looking utterly nonthreatening in his pajamas. He was wearing one of Dick’s old t-shirts, oversized, draping down past his elbows. He must have his own clothes, but she’d never seen him sleep in anything else.

 “Then why are you preparing two mugs of hot chocolate?” He asked smugly. Well, as smugly as he could with twelve stitches in his side.

 “Because I know you won’t listen to me.” The grin was replaced with a frown. “But I don’t mind, that’s why I made enough for two.” She quickly continued. Damian stared ahead at a place on the table. She weighed her next words. They both knew fully well that he wouldn’t sleep until Dick made it home in one piece, and for that matter that she would either. Leaving Damian alone with his thoughts seemed cruel under the circumstances.

“You didn’t listen to me earlier.” He accused agitatedly, breaking the silence.

 “I don’t make a habit of listening to Robins.” She said with a smirk, attempting to lighten the mood. She carefully poured the steaming cocoa into the mugs, keenly aware of Damian’s eyes following her every move.

 “You listen to Gordon.” He pouted. She placed a mug in front of him and sat down across from him.

 “Most of the time, and she’s not a Robin. I don’t listen to you, Tim, or Dick, and certainly not Jason.”

 “Why not?” He challenged, not making a move to touch his mug, still glaring at her with a dark expression on his face. “You were a Robin, were you not? You think you’re above us-”

 “No, Dames, you gotta read the situation you know?” She took a long sip of cocoa. Damian crossed his arms. She sighed. “Look, if we always listened to Dick, he’d be dead already.” He nodded carefully. “Same thing with you and Tim.” His nose scrunched at the mention of Tim.

 “Don’t compare me to-”

 “Whatever it is, I’m not, I’m just saying, I’d be a lot happier if you weren’t shish kabobbed by Zsasz.” His brow furrowed. “Okay fine, I messed up, you probably would have been fine. We shouldn’t have retreated. But you were down, and we made a judgement call – not just me, Dick would rather die than-” Damian’s eyes went wide. “Poor choice of words, I take it back. He’s not going to die, he just…” God, what was she doing? What was she even trying to say?

 “I know you’re not worried, because you’re you, but if I was you, I would be worried, but I shouldn’t be worried, because Dick’s a badass, so he’ll be fine, and knowing that you’re safe will help him stay focused on the fight. So you’re helping by staying right here, yeah?” She leaned back against the seat. Smooth, real smooth.

 Damian’s lips were pursed by the end of her rambling. “I’m not worried.” She heard him mumble under his breath. He took a sip of cocoa. “Grayson is a competent fighter; he would not be so easily defeated.” She pretended not to hear his voice wobble slightly at the end. The poor kid.

 “He’ll be home any minute now.” She assured.

 “And he’ll yell at you for not making enough for him.” He added sagely.

 “Then he’ll yell at you for not being in bed.” Damian rolled his eyes.

 “I shall already be in bed by the time he makes it up the stairs.” So confident in his abilities. Dick probably let him think he got away with it.

 “Well, then he’ll anxiously pace outside of your room, and peak in to fuss over your stiches.” She predicted. Damian snorted, and took another sip of cocoa.

 “Damian, you could have been seriously hurt, you’ve got to be more careful!” He perfectly imitated Dick’s voice. Steph had to fight back laughter and swallow her cocoa. “Why did you give him sugar, it’s his bedtime?” He directed at her.

 “Robin, cease with the hot chocolate immediately.” She croaked out in a gravelly Batman impression.

 “Holy hot chocolate Batman!” Stephanie lost it as he did a perfect impression of Dick’s normal voice. Damian allowed himself a small smile.

 “Oh my God, you have to teach me how to do that.”

 “Are you sure you have the talent for it?” He asked smugly. She brushed off the comment. Smug Damian was better than sad and worried Damian.

 “Sure, also can you do Scooby-Doo?” Damian’s brow furrowed.

 “Who?”

 “What do you mean who!?” She half yelled. Damian flinched. “Okay, since we’re already up, you’re getting an education tonight, we’re moving to the couch, let’s go, move it people.”

   Two episodes later, Damian’s wide eyes still looked through the screen rather than at it. Not all things, she supposed, could be fixed with dumb cartoons and hot chocolate.

 “Brown?” He softly spoke, as the credits played.

 “Mm?” Silence resounded through the room. Whatever question Damian had died in his throat. “I’m sure he’ll be back any minute, he’s probably overseeing the trip to Arkham.” She guessed.

 “Yes.” Another pause. “He’ll be upset when he arrives home.”

 “He won’t be too upset.” Damian tucked his knees to his chest. “Everyone made it home safe.”

 “Father would have been angry.” She couldn’t deny that. Bruce was, well, Bruce.

 “But Dick isn’t Bruce.” She let the words hang in the air for a moment. “He was Robin too once, you know?” Dick got mad, heck, he killed the Joker like three days after she first met him. He’d been upset with her, for being Batgirl, but his anger wasn’t like Bruce’s, and it hadn’t lasted for long.

 “I know.” He turned to face her on the couch. “He’ll say he’s disappointed.”

 “Ah.” Her heart melted. “That’s always worse.” Damian rolled his eyes.

 “I’ve had worse punishments.” He paused. Damn the League. “But it’s… different.” Steph could sympathize.

 “My dad used to lock me in closets when he was mad.” Damian nodded.

 “I would too.” She groaned. Sometimes she was trying to have meaningful heartfelt conversations with a ten-year-old.

 “Brat. I’m trying to have a moment.” She complained. He fell silent, shrugging his shoulders, possibly as an attempt at an apology. “The point being my mom was always disappointed. And just because one sucked more than the other, didn’t mean both didn’t suck.”

 “Hmm.” Damian leaned back against the pillows. “But I had to do something, he was,” he paled slightly, his eyes widening, “Zsasz was going to kill children again.” He looked at her earnestly. “I couldn’t let him-”

 “Look, no one’s mad at you for trying to do something good. It’s just like… we worry about you, okay?” Damian rolled his eyes again.

 “No need I’m-”

 “You’re staying up until Dick gets back, want to remind me why that is?” He turned to face the rain smeared window. “It’s the same for him, and the same for me. We worry about you too, okay?”

 “You shouldn’t.” Damian muttered. “I’m perfectly capable on my own, I’m trained in twenty-”

 “Doesn’t matter how trained you are if you’re concussed.” She pointed out.

 “It didn’t matter if I was concussed in the League.” Assholes.

 “Well, this isn’t the League, and we care if you’re concussed.”

 “Whatever.” He fell silent after, gluing his eyes back to the screen in an attempt to block her out.

 “Just, let me know next time, and I’ll come with you.” Maybe she was imagining it, but she caught a minute nod.

 Carefully, she reached out, projecting her moves, and ruffled his hair. He didn’t seem much happier, some of the tension bled out of his shoulders. Maybe she didn’t know what she was doing, but whatever mediocre amount of comfort she could supply would have to be enough. She leaned back into her end of the couch, content to sit in silent companionship and let her mind wander off, no longer focused on the cartoon, but on a family forged in chaos.

   “M’ere bud, time for bed.” Someone whispered to her right. Cracking open her eyes slowly, the time on the television box read 3:28. Damian groggily groaned in protest next to her. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out the vague outline of Dick sweeping a tired Damian (who was clearly feigning sleep) into his arms. “You should get some sleep too.” He hissed at her, as his footsteps padded away.

 She stretched out on the couch, four hours of sleep, that wasn’t too bad, but her neck was definitely stiff after that. She groaned, turning on the lamp next to her, shutting her eyes again and slowly allowing them to adjust to the light. Dick popped his head back into the doorway.

 “You need anything? The guest room has some spare clothes in your size, we have extra toothbrushes, you can use my shampoo if you want.” He rambled off. It was strange, she could never tell if he was being nice to make up for his initial rejection, or if that was just how he was.

 “Don’t be too hard on Damian.” She curled into her spot on the couch. Dick stepped forward into view, leaning against the doorframe. A pink bathrobe was draped over his shoulder, his wet hair dripping. He tiredly sunk against the wall.

 “I won’t be.” He slid into a squat, then all the way down to the floor. “Was he mad I followed him?”

 “Probably. I think he was more worried you wouldn’t come home.” Damian’s last experience with Zsasz had been… unpleasant. And the villain had carried a grudge ever since.

 “Oh. Sorry it took so long, Alfred kick you guys to bed or something?” She nodded. They’d been whisked out of the command room before she’d hardly tugged off her cape. No doubt Damian would have tried to leave again if they’d been listening on the comms.

 “You’re okay?” It was so weird. She was sitting on a couch, talking down to a cowl-less Batman in a pink bathrobe, sitting on the floor.

 “Fit as a fiddle.” He sneezed, as if on cue.

 “It’s raining pretty hard.” Her eyes flicked towards the window.

 “You don’t say.” He deadpanned, following her gaze. “It let up about an hour ago. Zsasz is back and Arkham, we found the kids he grabbed, I was trying to track down any relatives.” She nodded, Gotham’s foster care system was abysmal, and the social workers overbooked. Finding relatives could save a kid from ending up in a supervillain’s lair.

 “All’s well that ends well.” Dick sneezed again. “I could have helped.”

 “Babs and I had it under control.” She rolled her eyes, typical of the ‘big kids’ to leave her in the kiddies room. “Thank you for watching him.” He nodded at the empty mugs. “It was sweet of you to stick around.” Warmth swelled in her chest at the remark, she didn’t need his approval of course, but it was nice to have it.

 “Yeah well, cut him some slack for me yeah?” He opened his mouth to reply, then paused to cough for a bit.

 “I won’t be hard on him, but no patrol until his stiches heal.” He assured, regaining his composure.

 “I’m sure you won’t patrol until your cold’s passed.” She commented sarcastically. It would do the boys good to spend some time together anyways.

 “Did Babs put you up to this? I-”, sneeze, “told her I was fine. You guys are worse than Alfred.”

 “Nope.” She popped the p. “But I think your kid might feel a little bit guilty about tonight, and it wouldn’t hurt to stay in with him.”

 “He’s not my…” Dick stared up at the ceiling. Tucking his knees up to his chin, just the same as Damian, he went silent.

 “He’s your kid.” She said after a moment. Dick smiled ruefully.

 “He’s your kid too.” She snorted. He was like the little brother she’d never had, not that she’d admit it.

 “Not a chance, he’s all yours and Alfred’s. Babs and I don’t work with minors.” Aside from the times she had.

 “Mmmhmm. So that’s why you were drinking hot chocolate and watching cartoons with him, because he’s not your kid. I guess you don’t think of him as family” He sighed. “And to think, I was going to bring you to the aquarium with us tomorrow, but if we aren’t your family then why even-”

 “Woah, woah, woah. Let’s not go that far, I want to see him next to penguins-er I mean, I want to see the uhh... You know what nope, not ashamed, I want to see the look on his face at the touch tank.” She paused. “Aren’t you rewarding bad behavior with that though?”

 “Well, don’t worry about it, he’s my kid after all.” He chided smugly. “In all seriousness, I just want to distract him long enough he doesn’t go out again.” Another sneeze. “Jeez, stupid rain. Also, Babs is coming, it’s a party.”

 “You’re sure he won’t see it as a reward?” She wasn’t taking children’s psychology for nothing after all.

 “Nah, knowing him, he might take it as a punishment.” He closed his eyes, leaning back into the frame. “But, I try to keep capes and normal life separate, he’ll be grounded from patrol, but I won’t ground him during the day for stuff he pulls at night.” That seemed reasonable. “He’s been doing really well with homeschool.” He opened his eyes again, looking fondly at the opposite doorframe. “I think he’ll really like the aquarium, he’s been studying aquatic life recently and-”

 Dick mumbled on for a while, listing all Damian’s accomplishments, how he was multiple grade levels ahead, and scoring well in all the classes they made for him. How he could go on to do anything he wanted, was on track to take college courses by the time he was in high school, and how bright his future was. Again, she was glad her life wasn’t normal, as he rambled on and on, pride shining on his face.

 “He’s so your kid.” She interrupted after a coughing fit, having lost track of the conversation. Dick blinked at her. “Bedtime.” He nodded, sneezing halfway through.

 “Bedtime.”

  They didn’t make it to the aquarium, as predictably, Dick was running a fever by the morning. But that didn’t stop the party. Barbara brought soup, Alfred made cookies, and Steph settled on the couch next to Damian, picking up where they left off, marathoning Scooby Doo.

 Dick picked apart the episodes from his isolated recliner (they quarantined him three feet away), Damian chiming in to predict the villain’s identity. Barbara grumbled about normal people being easier to watch TV with, and Alfred settled in a chair by the door. If Cass were here, she’d bounce off the walls, and Tim would lie on the floor. Pieces were broken and missing, but as the remaining members of her pseudo-family chattered away, she had hope that things, eventually, would work out.

[eclipsecrowned]

facts about my interpretation:

it all started when he was a kid. no, not the fragile ego from being bullied. no, not the poisonous ambition that made him such a heel. the fact he's such a prick. see, after his dad died, momma cobblepot dearest turned her dear baby boy over to the board of the family business. said her little man needed to be brought up to be a proper businessman like her dearly departed tucker. oswald instead figured out that threats and having the power and money to back them up around got grown men to wrap around his pinkie finger. he's never let go of that ego trip and control freak nature.

he's from jersey. he's got an accent that would make tony soprano blush. nobody gets to hear it, though, because he decided he's a gentleman, a better breed of cobblepot than those who came before him (sorry pa.) he puts on the upper class affectations and, sometimes, a really good pr accent that avoids the pitfalls that identify him as an american putting one on.

it's good bc his mom came from england. his dad went away for a year to broker a business deal and came back with a leggy british dame. in true cobblepot fashion, his dad pulled from a galaxy away in getting his mom. unlike their son's perennially luckless ways with women, the beautiful esther was drawn to a schlub like tucker out of genuine love for him rather than his bank account. some might say this gave oswald unrealistic expectations. he says fuck that.

unlike what some lore might say otherwise, he's definitely a spoiled little mommy's boy and only child. this kind of self-absorbed nonsense can only come from an only child. my source is me being one also.

low-key a genius. multidisciplinary engineer, weaponsmith, scientist, and businessman based on what goes into the average scheme back in his rogue days. runs the gamut of 'i'm so fuckin smart the batman wishes he was me' and heinous amounts of impostor syndrome.

desperate for human connection. his one virtue is being very good to those he considers 'his,' whether that's genuine friends he's made through the rogue game or his employees down at the lounge. don't ever try to act out with what he considers his. it will end... poorly. in the less dire, very cuddly with his friends because he's touch starved as all hell :)

gives the vibe of being the one rogue that reacted appropriately to robin in the sense of 'god damn somebody brought their kid to this shit--' before being clocked in the face by a ten year old wearing his shorts outside his pants.

stout strength. surprisingly agile despite what people assume regarding his size. while he prefers to use his bag of tricks or work from the shadows whenever necessary, if he can get in one good blow he can at least make people regret getting into range.

post-roguery, alternates between laundering money for his pals still in the game, sugaring their operations like a proper daddy if he considers the risk/reward ratio to be worth it, and pulling favors only money can buy regarding their sentencing/releases. he's not an active player in the game, instead taking up roles largely left to atrophy in the underworld since the bat shuffled organized crime out of the city, but he keeps line in the water to see if anything bites.

bi, fat, a cane user, and fucked either your mother or your father last night depending on what will most upset you <3

thinking about.... him.

[birdy-bat-writes]

Damian Wayne - Civilian crime solver

Request: Could you do headcanons or a scenario about Damian with a friend or s/o that is really into mysteries and goes around investigating cases even though they're really in over their head? Bonus points for shenanigans. Thank you!

Of course, amazing Anon! Great suggestion! And hey, why do friends or lovers when we can do both?? ;) I hope you enjoy this!

A/N: Um… My Headcanons are basically just fanfictions with sentences that don’t flow into paragraphs. I split it into 2 parts. I Really liked writing this one though. I love Damian. This one came out kinda angsty though, sorry about that. But it has a sweet ending.

Part 2 here

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-       You met Damian when you both were in the sixth grade. He was quite the indignant 11-year-old. Unfortunately for you, this fellow was your lab partner for the year.

-       You noticed his distaste for most people, but he didn’t have it with you. You couldn’t have known at the time, but the reason for that was that you were the only person in the room Damian saw as someone of equal intellect. It was the way you were organized and level-headed. You were independent and self-sufficient.

-       Truth be told, the only major difference between your mindsets was that you weren’t as cocky.

-       Made sense though, since your mother was an environmental toxicologist. Your home was pretty full of science equipment since you could remember. You were always curious as a child, and of course your proud mother encouraged it and taught you bit-by-bit how to use the tools. You idolized her and your father, who passed away when you were younger.

-       Over the course of your partnership with Damian, you grew to tolerate each other, and then even enjoy each other’s company. By the time You were both 12, you had a pretty solid friendship.

-       You discovered this when he invited you over to his house for his birthday and his family nearly choked, had a stroke, or checked if you were a robot. He had to explain to you that he didn’t bring friends over very often.

-       “I made an exception for you because you are far closer to me than anyone else and I enjoy your company.”

-       You guys hang out all the time now and talk about personal stuff and just joke about things. It makes you really happy when Damian laughs. He often found himself thinking about how much more often he’s been doing it since he met you.

-       “Hey, what do you want to be when you grow up, Dames?”

-       “Well, I’d like to follow in my father’s footsteps.” You assumed that meant running Wayne Enterprises. You were half right.

-       “I want to be a detective.”

-       “Really?”

-       “Yeah, like my dad was.”

-       “He’d be proud of you.”

-       You had a love for forensics and special permission from your chemistry teacher to use the advanced chem lab after school. You were her TA after all, and Damian used that time to sit with you and chat while you worked.

-       “Y/N, what are you analyzing?”

-       “Um… It’s a mud sample.”

-       “From?

-       “The Gotham botanical gardens.”

-       “Why?” Why are you analyzing dirt from Poison Ivy’s crime scene from last night?

-       “Promise you won’t freak out?” He nodded. “I heard on the news that Poison Ivy was using monster plants to terrorize people. And they looked kind of like yellow trumpet vines you find a in the Gotham gardens. I was just checking the dirt for any chemicals that could have altered the plant growth.”

-       Damian was stunned and speechless. Something he experienced rarely, if ever. “Y/N, messing with this stuff is dangerous. maybe you should let Batman and the GCPD handle this.”

-       “Come on, Dami. Please don’t say that. I want to do this; I want to help people. If I figure this out first, I can tell the GCPD.”

-       “I’m just worried for your safety.” He couldn’t deny that your work was brilliant, but he couldn’t let you put yourself in harm’s way either.

-       “I’ll be safe, I promise.”

-       He ultimately told you it was alright with him if you were careful. What he meant by that was that he was going to spy on you and keep you away from any and everything that was dangerous.

-       Robin would follow you to your house from the shadows to make sure you got home safe and Damian would check in with you on your files. As your determination to solve cases increased, his desire to ask you why increased as well.

-       “I just think it’s fun, Damian.” Wow you were a bad liar.

-       “There’s more to it.”

-       “What?”

-       “Why are you actually doing this?”

-       “Because I want to.” You were sterner this time. Damian noticed and decided to drop it for now. He offered to walk you home like he usually did but you declined.

-       That night, you decided to investigate a lead you didn’t tell Damian about. It led you an abandoned building in old Gotham. You were scanning the second floor for anything out of the ordinary until you heard a voice approaching from the corner.

-       You ran into the nearest room and hid. The voices were getting closer. “Falcone wants this job done tonight. Don’t f*** up.” You were terrified.

-       Suddenly, your mouth was covered by a green gloved hand. You wanted to yell but you heard him shush you. You turned quietly to meet eyes with a domino mask. It was Robin. You didn’t have enough time to process everything that happened but at the end of it all you ended up on the sidewalk next to an ambulance and police cars.

-       Deciding you had enough for one day, you headed home.

-       The next day at school you seemed quiet and so did Damian. At the end, you walked over to Damian to ask if he wanted to hang out.

-       “Not at the lab.”

-       “Okay… we can watch a movie if you want.”

-       “Alright.”

-       “Cool. I’ll just go get my stuff.” He saw you walking in the direction of the lab and something sparked in him. He stopped you.

-       “I’ll get it.”

-       “What? I can get it. It’s fine.”

-       “Just stay here, Y/N.” He was a bit too curt for your liking.

-       “Don’t tell me what to do.”

-       “Just listen to me for once.”

-       “Why are you being like this?!”

-       It turned into a yelling match. Damian’s emotions got the better of him and it ended with a “You could have died last night!”

-       Tip of the hat to him *clap* *clap*. That’s how you found out he was Robin.

-       It made sense really. You shared a heartfelt conversation about how he trusted you but he didn’t want you getting hurt. He knew what it was like out there and he couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to you.

-       You promised to keep his secret and he made a compromise with you; you could help him with forensics for his cases with Batman as long as you never went out into the field.

-       Then you went an watched the movie you wanted to.

-       “Hey Dames, I need to tell you something.” He turned his head to you. “You had asked earlier why I was so obsessed with the cases… my dad died investigating Falcone’s drug cartel. I guess got a bit too into it… I just thought you deserved to know.” You shared a look of sympathy and for the first time in your friendship, he hugged you. It held for a while, but it wasn’t awkward, just comforting, as if you both said that you were there for each other.

-       Skip to the point where your working with him and Batman was normal. Well… as normal as it could get. You and Damian blew the Batcave circuit breaker. Twice.

-       You would always get results before Bruce managed to figure out how. Tim liked you specifically because you could make Bruce look very confused.

-       You and Damian would pass notes in class in code about new information from cases. It started to make people gossip about you two. It didn’t help that you both always stayed back late together and showed up to class alone, before anyone else.

-       It began to scare people because Damian doesn’t bother to spend time with other humans but with you, he like?? Willingly?? Does it??

-       You would work late nights with the boys and keep track of how much sleep they each were getting. If anyone fell too short, you sent them up to bed. It actually backfired on you once because you were very sleep-deprived and didn’t want to admit it, so Jason picked you up and dragged you to your room in the manor while Tim and Dick smiled cheekily. “Oh, how the turntables.” ;D

-       Damian would sleep when you forced him, but he would still have his days. He believed he was above sleeping???

-       This boy refuses to admit he’s tired. Even when he looks like a jittery racoon. So, you bring him hot chocolate in the mornings, (courtesy of Alfred) with a hint of a lot of caffeine (courtesy of Tim).

-       Ever since you started spending so much time at the manor, you got much closer with Damian and his brothers. You felt a sense of family and care there.

-       Your favorite nights were the ones where your mom would let you sleep over and you would stay late in the cave working with Damian. The serenity of the cave and the faint glow of the computers always made it feel like some alternate plane of existence.

-       “Alright, Sherlock, you’ve been obsessed with this case for three days now. Let the computers do their work and take a nap.”

-       “Dami, I’m too ‘thinky’ to sleep.”

-       “’Thinky’?” you nodded and giggled at your superior use of vocabulary. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

-       You detected a hint of mischief in his voice and followed him up the cave staircase to the top of a ledge. He pulled a rope ladder out from behind the ledge and gestured for you to climb it.

-       You glanced at him once before hoisting yourself up and climbing onto the rocky surface. You looked up and the sight took your breath away. The ledge was a flat floor of the cave that overlooked the waterfall from the inside. If you looked down, you could see the dancing currents on the lower levels of the cave. The air was misty and cool, and you honestly had no idea that there was a view like this anywhere in the manor.

-       “You like it?”

-       “Its so beautiful.” You said, your voice full of awe. Damian sat down on the floor, against the cave wall and patted the ground next to him. He wanted to say something. Just regular makings of conversation, like the ones you always had. This time, for the first time, he felt like he didn’t know what to say to you, so opted to look at you.

-       The way the water reflected light on the cave walls made patterns of hazy light. The glow hit your skin and made your eyes sparkle. For the first time since he had met you, Damian saw you in a completely new way. He didn’t understand it, but he wasn’t opposed to it either.

-       You broke the silence with, “You know, ever since I met you, and your family, I’ve never been happier.”

-       You looked back at him. Something about the way he looked at you made you feel butterflies and fireworks all at once.

[chromatic-lamina]

rascal: law and robin brotp fanfic

I have a lot of brotp Law and Robin in my fics, and one fic with them as a couple. I like the brotp interaction. Two cynical and supportive friends, but the writing is mostly in my multi-chaptered works, which are dark or canon divergent or both.

Anyway, I’m going to include an excerpt below. Robin’s painting Law’s toenails while they both chat about current and past loss and love. It’s from a three-chapter work that I don’t think will make much sense without knowing the rest of the world that it comes from, but hopefully this interchange can be followed and strikes a chord with some. I know the LawBin fans are thirsty. Post canon with canon-verse history and elements. This is an older piece.

🐞

Law sat back in the garden recliner in Robin’s backyard, a book over his face. He wasn’t in danger of burning easily in the late morning sun, but had no intention of making himself prey to melanoma. Robin perched on the edge of the recliner, holding one of Law's feet.

He'd spent the night at Robin’s in anticipation of the tea-towel convention they'd be visiting today. She’d spent the night trying to share his enthusiasm as he sat, tattooed arms spread on the table, poring over catalogues. His inked hands pointed out designs featuring disproportionate tulip-ensconced windmills, and disembodied body parts that had less to do with Dali and more to do with morticians.

She assumed all the creators were outliers. Commemorative tea-towels hadn’t quite taken the art world by storm yet, but they did remind her a little of Ryuunosuke, the very cute but badly drawn dragon that had struggled and succeeded in taking them all to the top of Zou. 

That was last night though and now, soon, they’d head off to gossip and gander with the convention organisers, the Dishcloth Dames, once she’d made Law pretty.

“These are so cute.” She pulled at the few black gnarly hairs curled on Law’s left big toe.

“Freak,” Law mumbled, moving his foot.

Robin laughed, righted Law’s foot and wiped the brush over the nail of his big toe.

“When did you last clip these?”

“What’s it to you? You’re the one who wanted to dress me up.”

“You’re the one who’s letting me. You’ve got old man’s feet, by the way.”

Law arched his bridge and Robin slapped it, held it down.

“The sexy surgeon’s pedes don’t please? You said they were cute?”

She studied languages. She had no difficulty with Law’s fancy Latin terms.

“Mmm. I wouldn’t go that far. But I guess you got those tattoos to distract from your tootsies.”

The ink on the bridges of his feet matched that on the back of his hands. She felt the arc of the bone against her palm as she admired the designs, although it was one of the more simple ones to adorn Law and, historically, definitely not his favourite.

“And yet, there you are, making them all presentable and shit.”

“Does Marco like them?”

“He’s got his kinks.”

“And . . . ?”

“They remain in the bedroom,” Law grinned. At times he thought the Phoenix liked every part of his body, though they’d never had a deep conversation about those particular extremities.

“Ah, you’re no fun.”

“I’ve been told.”

Law felt her move to the next digit.

“What colour are you painting them?”

“Tch.”

As if it could be anything but black.

“Well, you sent Chopper out for the colour once,” Law said to her silence.

Bubble gum. Robin snickered, remembering. Law peered at her from under his book, her shoulders rose and fell with laughter. He liked that violet t-shirt.

.

Law seemed so disinterested, and therefore, Robin guessed very trusting, when she or anyone else painted his nails. He usually paid little attention to the colour, or even the action. It was something that pleased those who found it amusing to decorate him. Just so long as they let him read whatever he was researching, he indulged them. A small compromise for a larger gain.

No way in hell could someone he didn’t trust do this, though it had been done. Robin knew that trust was hard won. Law told himself that he let them all think he was vain this way so he could go for their jugulars some other time. Plus, he liked giving the Dishcloth Dames even more to gossip about.

.

Thinking of Chopper, Law laughed as if the sound was rationed—a clipped exhalation. The tanuki reminded him of his navigator.

“Bepo. Lord, Bepo got it into his head once to paint me. Maybe he wanted to practice so he could surprise some lucky Mink in the future, and who better to be his chump than his ferocious captain?”

Robin turned to him for a second, curious, before proceeding to the next toe. Her extra hands manipulated Law’s foot for the best access. Law’s own hand kept the book in place. She liked that silver band he sometimes wore on his wrist—a solid link—a flash of sky reflected in the metal.

“His fine motor skills aren’t the best. You’ve seen his maps. Shachi and Penguin thought I’d amputated my own toes without the benefit of a Room.” A rumble lifted Law's chest and then dissolved. He smiled easily. The book didn’t cover all of his face.  “He even dabbed a paw print on my heel.”

“He chose red?” She loved that flash of teeth.

“Mmm. So. I guess it’s black?”

Robin finished the last toenail and told him not to move his feet about for a while. She then drew up the recliner next to his, lay on it, leant on her side and looked across. Law could be asleep for all she knew.

.

“Oi, talk to me endling. Of course it’s black.”

Law’s lips twitched. Only Robin could get away with that.

“So needy, terminarch. How am I meant to do that without moving?”

They may as well have just called each other Flevance and Ohara. They did at times, but neither could be feeling too off-colour when they did, or the devil fruits would come out to play. The town names as nomenclatures were off-limits to anyone else.

“Take that book off your face at least. I know you can’t read it like that.”

“Your makeup bag’s not nearby, is it?”

“Just the toes today, Dr. Death.”

Good. He was only happy for modification to go so far. He sighed, grumbled, but lifted a hand and picked the book up by its spine, and rested it—still spreadeagled—on his chest. He blinked into the sun, then tipped his head her way. Not the most comfortable of positions.

“Can I sit up?”

The grey of Law’s irises were sometimes shot through with gold. She wondered what his parents had looked like. “Give it a few.”

He turned his face skyward again, his arm over his shut lids.

.

“How about Luffy?” she asked. Luffy was before island living, before Law’s casual feet days. If they’d ever played around with nail polish, she’d never seen the results.

Law groaned.

“He approached my nails as if they were made of seastone, his hand was that shaky.” The softness in tone betrayed the annoyance in his words. “For some reason he thought a pearly pink would suit? Maybe it reminded him of marbled steak or something? Of course, he had absolutely no patience.”

Law scratched at his sideburns with his spare hand.

“He slapped it on, forgot to cap the varnish, jumped on me, bringing the sheet with him, or whatever we were lying on, wherever we were. It smeared over everything; our clothes, or more accurately, my clothes. You know, Luffy somehow always escapes his own chaos—and then he declared the whole thing stupid and boring, as if I’d dreamt up the activity and forced it on him.” Incredulity hissed through the back of his teeth.

He tapped his earrings. "Somehow the polish even managed to get on these. Nami-ya probably talked him into the whole thing for a bet."

“And you let him?”

Law didn’t need to look at Robin to know her expression; amused and bemused.

“You choose your battles.”

“Mmm.” Her captain could be quite domineering. She wondered if they were the same earrings. It wouldn’t surprise her. She’d kept the same jewellery over the years, but added to her collection with each pirates' haul. The ones that Luffy didn’t somehow swap for food.

.

She sat up and twisted her neck. They needed to get going soon.

“Phoenix?”

“Still trying to unearth his kinks?”

“Now that you bring it up.”

Law’s smile, the one Robin and only a few others ever saw, made her lips curve.

“I paint for him at times. I mean, my own nails. He’s got a lapis grounding stone, and his flames are blue when he’s in Zoan form. I try to match those shades—a balance between the two. Other times, I paint for myself.”

“Does he notice?” Marco had a grounding stone? But then again, they all had their talismans.

“Sometimes.”

“You don’t tell him?”

“Not always. Other things are more pressing.”

“Does he know you’re a freak?”

“I thought that was you.”

.

Law paused for a second. He tipped his face Robin's way again, his hand still protecting his eyes. How come she got to sit up?

“The dogs have never liked it. And you know, all that waste. It’s not really hygienic in the clinic either.”

“You operate with your toes?”

Law laughed. “When I do my hands . . . It’s not hygienic.”

.

Robin cast a glance at her back yard – the trees that offered privacy from the neighbours, the small pond. She enjoyed life in the New World now Luffy was pirate king.

“The dogs don’t like it, but Bepo can handle it?”

“Well, he’s a freak, too. Minks wear makeup, right?”

Robin nodded. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

“Makeup?”

“Being a freak.”

“To the contrary, some of my best friends are freaks. You can’t all be Chopper.”

Law calls Robin a freak and gets away with it. heh. Perhaps. Anyway, I’ll put the link to the AO3 story as the source (just edited it in. This post has been up for long enough).  It’s actually about dogs and links back to another story, and is kinda sad, and features Robin, but is about Law and Marco, and there’s plenty of humour too. If you want to read it, be my guest. It’s an older one, written a few years ago. T-rated.

[zambie-trashart]

Copycat: Rewritten Series

this one... awienfvwiuebdsilubvwliuerhnv;uihw. That’s how I feel. Also here’s just something for you guys. Chat likes Jon, Jon likes Chat. Adrien likes Jon, Superboy likes Chat. It’s like the love square but different. Damian likes Ladybug and Marinette but doesn’t know they are the same person. Marinette likes Damian and thinks that Robin is way too serious.

Read the whole series

Summary: Marinette tries to ask Damian on a date and leaves an embarrassing voice mail while Jon and Alya go to the ceremony and Ladybug doesn’t show up. Theo gets jealous of Chat Noir but how could he if Chat likes someone else.

...........................

“How about inviting him to a movie?” Tikki asked and Marinette sighed. This was not going to be easy. The kwami suggested that she just call him. 

Marinette ran to Jon’s room and flung the doors open.“I need Damian’s number!” she said shaking her cousin.

“OK, OK, geeze call Alya over, you’re going to need moral support,” Jon gave her his phone cause he knew that Damian wouldn’t answer a random number.

They called him and it went to voicemail. She left a message and threw the phone forgetting to hang up. “What did you expect me to say, hey hot stuff, this is Marinette, I’d ask you on a date the the movies but I’ve got such a crazy crush on you that the only way I can talk to without foaming at the mouth is over this stupid phone, pretty ridiculous right,” the phone beeped asking if it wanted to save the message, Marinette panicked and hit the wrong button saving the message which was now on her crush’s phone.

“OK, relax Marinette, his fencing ends in an hour, that’s how much time you have to get rid of the message,” Jon said trying to calm down his cousin. They walked out of the house and saw the ceremony in the park and Chat Noir had just landed in the park.

“Excuse me Chat Noir, but Ladybug’s not here,” Theo said to Chat who saw Jon in the crowd.

“Don’t worry about Ladybug, I’m sure she’ll be here any minute. I can handle this situation by myself for now, I’m the one in charge any way you know,” Chat winked at Jon who turned bright red and stayed close to Alya.

Marinette went though the lockers looking for Damian’s and she took his phone but only because she panicked.

“Ladybug didn’t show up, I just wanted to express my adoration for her, let her know that everything I had went into these statues,” Chat stopped listening after that cause it was getting kind of creepy.

“You know, hate to burst your bubble, but Ladybug and I are partners no room for anyone else in the mix.”

“Really?” Theo asked thinking back to the times when Robin and Superboy helped.

“Yeah, we’re like this,” Chat said crossing his fingers smiling at Theo.

Theo went back to his workshop upset no mortified was more the word. “A thing huh, can’t even take love seriously calling it a thing, he doesn't deserve her, I do!” He then became Copycat and got into a lot of trouble to make the police and Ladybug go after the real Chat Noir.

Marinette and Jon looked at the news in shock. “A thief, no way.” Jon looked at the news one more time remembering back to that morning where the artist had a lollipop stick in his mouth and a stick was placed at the scene of the crime.

“He’s not the thief, someone else is, the artist who made your sculpture was upset when you weren’t there this morning and sort of gave a love confession so Chat stuck up for you but might have made things a little worse by saying you guys were like that,” Jon said crossing his fingers like Chat did that morning.

“Ugh that idiot cat,” Marinette said as they ran over to the Louvre. Chat had been captured and was probably going to try and use his powers to get out. “Stay out here just in case he comes over this way.” 

Superboy watched as Chat ran away and helicopters started chasing him. Robin signaled him on the coms. “What the hell is going on out there Kent?”

“I’ve got it handled Dames, you just relax and sit back for a while,” Jon said flying above Chat and listening in on his conversation with Ladybug. He was going to find his impostor.

“My phone is missing and I have the feeling that you and your cousin are behind it,” Damian said obviously upset through the com.

“Oh, it’s missing is it? Wow, have you tired retracing your steps?” Jon asked nervously.

“Oh whatever I’ll give you until lunch tomorrow, it it’s not in my locker... I will be most put out.” the line went dead.

“That was a close one.”

...........................

Chat called Ladybug from a warehouse and the she couldn’t tell the two Chat’s apart. It was horrible.

“Ask him about our love you each other,” Chat said grasping at straws. She had confronted him at one point and he had admitted to her that he liked someone but it wasn’t a girl. She comforted him and asked who this boy was and she was shocked to hear it was her cousin.

“I hope you didn’t tell him about us,” Ladybug asked smirking.

“What?” Chat asked eyes wide.

“What we’re you know, we made a secret promise,” Ladybug said and Chat smiled.

“Right of course,” Ladybug shut that down. Jon was waiting on the rooftop. He didn’t think that they would need this help but in case they did he would always be there for his cousin and his crush. 

A fight broke out between the two Chats and even Jon had to admit that it was confusing. Robin landed on the roof next to him. “Seems a little stalkerish, even for you Superboy,” Robin said watching Ladybug.

“He’s pretty good.”

“No need to rub it in,” Chat said upset.

“I told you I was better than him,” Copycat said smirking up at Ladybug.

“But I’m better than both of you!” Ladybug said taking one of the batons and tossing it over to the real Chat.

“Burn,” Jon said laughing even Damian was smiling a little.

They tricked him and released his akuma and Damian had to admit that when Theo talked to Ladybug it was more than a little creepy but he assured her that he was just a fan and loved all of the heroism that she did.

Chat and Ladybug met on the roof.

“I’m glad you knew it was me,” Chat said scratching the back of his neck.

“I just had to figure out which Chat wasn’t really in love with me, it was a no brainer,” she said flicking the bell on his costume.

Chat transformed back and took a camera from his room to go and record something.

“Hello Parisians, I have something to tell you. I, Chat Noir am gay. I hope it doesn’t change the way you guys think about me but I figured you guys would want to know.” he stopped the video and posted it on Alya’s blog and it instantly received a lot of love.

...........................

Jon sat in Marinette’s room replaying the “I, Chat Noir am gay.” over and over again.

“You’ve got to stop that Jon and you promised that you would take Damian’s phone back for me,” Marinette said she had deleted the message and put the phone in front of Jon who’s brain was a pile of mush.

Jon, later that evening, was walking over to where Damian said he would meet him and saw Chat Noir sitting on a rooftop. Chat looked at him and smiled waving. Jon looked up and smiled back. Damian held his hand out for his phone but Jon was freaking out too much.

“You really are hopeless.” Damian said smiling slightly.

...........................

anddddddddddddddddddddddddd end of that one next up Evillustrator.

@loveswifi​  @ash-amg​ @mochegato​

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

Legacies - dad!jason au

Characters: Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon Pairings: jaydick Summary: Dick was Batman now, and as a certain someone always said - Batman always needs a Robin. A/N: After All’s Fair by a few months/a year and before Worst Nightmare. Also ignore the a/n on Worst Nightmare/edit it to be talking about being Bruce’s Robin, not Dick’s. Damian is 13 in this. Can’t believe I haven’t updated this au in OVER a year, so if you only read this series from me, reminder I now have a Patreon and Ko-Fi if you like my work and would like to support me further or get stories written for you/commissions! I’d be forever grateful!

Other things for Nevolition’s Dad!Jason AU

~~

“…This is weird.” Jason’s voice cracked through the communicator. It was a slow night, thankfully, and the two had been talking via comm. link for about an hour.

“What is?” Dick asked, shifting slightly to rearrange the cape across his shoulders.

“This.” Jason reiterated. Laughed breathily. “I’m sitting here flirting with the fucking Batman.”

Dick laughed too. Leaned back and stared up at the moon through the cloudy skies. “Don’t freak out too much when you remember you’re married to the Batman too.”

“Oh my god, I’m married to the fucking Batman.” Jason mimicked with fake shock. Dick kicked his feet against the brick of the building in glee. The cape, this legacy, was heavy. Too heavy, sometimes. But Jason sitting up and talking to him about mundane things like soups and shoestrings made it lighter. Made it bearable.

Dick let out a deep sigh. Listened as Jason plopped another folded shirt of their clean laundry into the basket.

“…Any word from Tim tonight?” Jason asked softly.

“Of course not. He still isn’t speaking to me.” Dick mumbled. He heard voices below him and leaned forward, making sure his cowl ears didn’t cast a shadow. It was a couple leaving a nearby bar. “Still thinks Bruce is alive, and I don’t think he’ll speak to me until I agree with him.”

“Kind of hard to agree with an idea that’s absolutely nuts.” Jason huffed. “It’s just his grief, Dick. Don’t take it personally.”

“I’m trying not to.” Dick promised. “At this point, I just want to know he’s okay.”

“Mentally or physically? Because you know my opinion on the former.”

“Both.” Dick stressed. “I mean, if he thinks Bruce is still alive then obviously he needs help mentally. But if he’s out there trying to fight criminals on his own, I’m afraid what could happen if he’s ever outnumbered.”

“Well, what’d Babs say?” Jason asked. “She know where he is?”

“Says he’s still in Gotham.” Dick murmured, swinging his legs wildly in front of him, in a kind of stretch. “Says he’s going by the name Red Robin now too.”

“Why? He didn’t want to be your Robin?” Jason asked. The dryer dinged in the background, and he heard Jason shift to go get the new load. “That’s kind of surprising, honestly.”

“I told him to his face that his theory about Bruce wasn’t real, and he needed to find a new way to cope. Probably not in the nicest way either.” Dick mumbled guiltily. “So of course he wants nothing to do with me.”

“Still…Robin has become a lot more independent to Batman in recent years.” Jason thought out loud. “Working with Batman isn’t exactly a necessary part of the job anymore.”

“That’s just what Babs said, not that she or Steph have talked to him about it.” He heard the dryer door slam. “Sorry for taking a patrol on laundry night. I know you hate that.”

“Eh, I hate it less these days.” Dick could practically see Jason shrug. “You’ve got a lot more important things on your plate right now then making sure Damian’s clean underwear is folded correctly.”

Dick snorted. “Well hopefully he’s making up for my absence.”

Jason paused. Then: “What do you mean?”

“I mean I hope he’s sitting there helping you, not sitting in his room on the computer.”

Another hesitation, then a chuckle. “Dick, did you forget he’s spending the night at Colin’s tonight?”

Dick frowned. “No he’s not.”

“Yes he is. That’s what he told me this morning.”

Dick’s gut began to churn. “I asked him what he was doing tonight before I left for the manor. He said nothing, because Colin’s out of town.”

Jason remained silent.

“Jason, is Damian not home?”

“Let me call him.” Jason said hurriedly. Dick checked the projection in his mask, making sure he didn’t miss a text from his son. A moment later, Jason exhaled nervously. “…It went straight to voicemail.”

“Don’t panic, Jay. Let me call Oracle.” He pushed the switch on the side of his cowl. “Babs?”

“Yes, Man Wonder?”

“Do you have a read on Damian? He appears to have tried to pull a fast one on Jay and I.”

“Ah, the joy of teenage rebellion. Just like all three of his dads.” Barbara hummed. She too seemed to switch communicator channels. “Batgirl, Black Bat and all other Bat-related friends and foes. Be on the lookout for a certain thirteen-year-old that we all know and love very dearly. He’s apparently lied to his dads and is gonna be in some deep shi-”

“Hang on, hang on.” A new voice drawled boredly across the line. “Don’t panic, I’m almost there.”

Dick blinked, and even Barbara seemed stunned into a momentary silence. Damian had a communicator, just like Jason did. One to call Dick, and Dick only. Not the open line. “…Damian, almost where?”

There was a thud behind him, and Dick immediately fell into attack mode. Pulled batarangs from his belt as he flipped backwards and twisted into a fighting stance.

And his weapons immediately slipped from his fingers, clattering to the rooftop.

Because it wasn’t an enemy. Oh no. At this moment, he’d have preferred an enemy. He’d prefer the Joker over who was standing in front of him.

Robin.

Damian dressed as Robin.

“No.” Was the first word out of Dick’s mouth, even as he took in the costume. It wasn’t thrown together, wasn’t a fake. He could see Alfred’s careful craftsmanship in the stitching of the red tunic, the thick green gloves. “Absolutely not.”

Damian grinned anyway, holding his bright yellow cape out and giving a single spin to show it off. “Cool, huh?”

“Opposite of cool.” Dick found himself already floating into the Batman voice. “Dames, we talked about this.”

Damian frowned. “No, you and Baba talked about this. I listened.” He crossed his arms. “Reluctantly.”

Dick bit his lip. “Babs. Get Penny-One on the line. Ask him why he allowed-”

“Alfred didn’t allow anything. He just made the uniform when we asked.” Damian cut off.

Dick tilted his head. “We?”

“Tim.” Damian said simply. “He and I talked about it. He helped me with the design. He passed the legacy of Robin on to me.”

Dick’s stomach dropped. This…explained a lot. Maybe. Explained the Red Robin part, at least. Maybe the radio silent part, and why Damian had an open line communicator too.

Damian seemed to see the confusion on Dick’s features. Uncrossed his arms and placed his hands on his hips. “I’d brought the idea up to him before, when you were thinking about taking over for…for Father.” He paused, seemed to swallow a lump in his throat. “And then you two fought, and he said he was leaving town. I asked him who was going to watch your back, and he stopped. He said he didn’t want to do it, that he couldn’t. Not with how things were right now. And I reminded him of what he always said.”

“And what did he always say?” Dick asked, hearing the bitterness in his own voice.

“That Batman needs a Robin.” Damian said firmly. “And in my opinion, that doesn’t change, even if the guy wearing the cowl does.”

“But not you.” Dick countered. His communicator beeped, reminding him of Jason on the other line. And great – that was going to go just swell. Hey honey, found our kid! Turns out he wants to fight crime! “Robin was never supposed to be you.”

“That’s what Tim said. And I asked him who else was going to do it?” Damian grinned again, overly pleased with himself. “He still wasn’t going for it exactly, so…”

“So?”

“So I told him if he didn’t help, I’d just go out on my own anyway.” Damian tilted his chin up. “He said that’d happen over his dead body, so he helped me design the suit and new weapons and everything, to make sure I was safe.”

“Well thank god for that.” Dick mumbled.

“And when it was all ready to go, he…he said he was proud of me. That there was no one else he’d rather take the title after him.” Damian’s cheeks seemed to redden a little bit at the memory of the praise. “He even went out with me the first few times so he knew I was ready.”

“You’ve gone on patrol already?!” Dick fumbled. He heard someone snort in amusement on the line. “Oh my…when? How many times?”

“Last month.” Damian countered. “Remember all those late nights at the Gotham Library with Nell for that project?”

“Oh my…” Dick sputtered, turning away. “Oh my freaking god…”

“Still got that husband on line two, Bats.” Barbara almost sang in his ear.

“So much for World’s Greatest Detective, eh, Didi?” Damian hummed with a laugh. “Don’t worry, I can pick up the slack on that.”

“You little…” Dick sighed, moving to run his hand through his hair, and remembering too late that he couldn’t. “Your baba’s going to kill me.”

“He’ll understand.” Damian tried, moving forward. “I’m…Didi, I’m not doing this to go against you or anything. I’m doing this to help. To help people, to protect the city you and Father love so much and…and to make sure you come home safe.”

Dick looked down at him.

“I won’t let the Court of Owls happen again, Didi. I won’t.” Damian whispered. “I won’t let someone hurt Stephie again, or Tim, or anyone else.”

Dick’s heart melted a little at that. And hurt, too. Goddamn, their son was so kind. So smart. So perfect.

He sighed, and reached out to reel Damian in, wrapping his arms tightly around his shoulders. Closed his eyes to hold back the tears, remembering when Bruce would hug him too, when they were Batman and Robin. And now, here, this…

“We’ll…have to talk to Baba about this. He’ll take a lot of convincing.” Damian looked up at him, smile threatening to crack his face in two. “Not that I’m saying yes, either, but…I understand.”

“…I’d have pointed out the hypocrisy of you saying no, if you didn’t.” Damian admitted.

“I have no doubt.” Dick laughed. “Again, I’m not saying yes, but…I suppose you can stay with me for tonight’s patrol.”

Impossibly, Damian’s grin got wider.

“A-hem.” Barbara reminded. “Husband – and dad – still on line two.”

Dick groaned as Damian stepped away from him with an awkward grin. Jason really was going to kill him.

He hit the button to switch frequencies. “Jay-”

“I swear to fuck, Dick, if someone’s already linked him to your Batman, I’m going to-”

“He’s with me!” Dick cut off, cringing in the immediate silence that followed. “He’s, uh, with me. On…this…rooftop.”

“…Why.” Jason demanded, though Dick already knew he was putting the pieces together. “Why is he on a rooftop with you.”

“Because…” Dick started. He stopped there, though, because how do you explain it? Even to someone who formerly wore the colors? “Well…apparently…he, uh…he approached Tim a little while ago and…I guess we raised him too well, so…”

“No. Absolutely not.” Jason all but screamed. “Tell him his little ass is not going to be Robin and he is fucking grounded until further notice.”

“Now, Jason-”

“Nope.” Jason countered. “Drag his ass home, right now. Or else you’re grounded too, you Bat fuck.”

If he was going to try and plead any more of his or Damian’s case, he didn’t get the chance before Jason disconnected the line. He sighed, dropping his head back.

“What’d he say?” Damian asked nervously. Dick was almost surprised he didn’t try to eavesdrop on the call.

“Exactly what I’m sure you’d think he’d say.” Dick droned. He looked back down at his boy. “He wants me to bring you home, stat.”

Damian pursed his lips and crossed his arms once more.

“But…” Damian perked. “He clearly needs some time to cool down.” Dick smiled. “Probably will take him a few hours.” In the moment of silence, as luck would have it: “And I think I hear sirens a few streets over.”

Damian slowly smiled as Oracle patched the police scanner into both their communicators.

“You ready, Robin?” Dick whispered. And even for all his fear and hesitancy about this partnership, he felt his chest fill with pride.

“I was born ready, Batman.” Damian promised.

“Last one there has to wash the Batmobile.” Dick teased. Damian laughed.

Batman and Robin jumped into the night – together again for the first time.

[cdelphiki]

Dick glared up at the ceiling as the sound of his door’s knocker reverberated around the room, disrupting the nice silence he’d been enjoying up until thirty seconds ago.

It was 10 am, and Dick was getting some much needed sleep before his shift at work in a few hours.  Even if he’d accidentally fallen asleep on the couch, that sleep had been blissfully peaceful.  Until someone started banging at the door.

Who the heck used knockers, anyway? 

Just because a door that was probably 100 years old had a knocker didn’t mean someone had to use it.  Just knock like a regular person.  

Stupid old apartment, Dick thought, as he dragged himself across the living room to the front door.  Looking out the peephole just made him close his eyes and rest his head against the door in utter defeat.  Because he was definitely not getting another wink of sleep.  Not a second.  

Undoing the various deadbolts and the chain, Dick swung open the door and looked down at the little boy standing in the hall.  At the kid carrying a suitcase and his sword.  

Right out in public.  

In Bludhaven.

With no Bruce in sight.

“Uh, Damian?” Dick said, blinking at the way Damian just glared at him.  

“Richard,” he said, pushing his way past and into the apartment and dropping his bag on the floor.  

Dick sighed and shut the door before asking,“What are you doing here?”

Damian hesitated, looking around the apartment.  Like he was searching for something.  A reason, perhaps?  Because he better have a freaking good one for traveling all the way from Gotham, likely without Bruce’s permission or even knowledge, at eleven years old.  With his freaking sword.

“Father has made it clear he has no use for me.”

That made Dick blink.  And blink.  And then close his eyes and run his hand through his hair.  

Damn Bruce.

Leave it to him to screw everything up.  

Bruce had been back for less than a month.  Dick moved back to Bludhaven to give him the space he needed to find his place with Damian, so they could settle into a groove without Damian constantly deferring to Dick, allowing his previous authority to overrule Bruce.

And of course Bruce went and screwed it up, just that quickly.

There was no chance Dick was getting back to sleep today.

“What makes you say that?” he asked, already knowing whatever Damian was about to say was going to be further aggravating.  

Dammit, Bruce.

“He fired me,” Damian said crisply.

Right. Of course he did.  

Dick sighed and locked his door so he could go fall onto his couch in defeat.  Because he and Bruce had talked about this.  Damian was Robin, and that wasn’t changing.  It wasn’t Bruce’s name to give out.  Dick gave Damian the name and that was that.  

“So you came here,” Dick said exhaustedly, rubbing at his face, already mentally preparing himself for the verbal war he and Bruce were going to have very, very soon.  As soon as it was out of his mouth, though, Dick realized it was the wrong thing to say. 

“I apologize,” Damian said flatly, all emotions wiped from his face as he transformed into robot assassin Damian, “I should have known I was not welcome.”

Maybe it was just his tone, or the tone mixed with the phrase, which implied Dick didn’t want Damian to come to him with these things.  Whatever it was that set Damian off, however, Dick was going to blame on exhaustion.  Had he gotten enough sleep, this would’t be a problem.  

But it’d been difficult to sleep since he’d left his kid behind.

“Damian,” Dick said, hopping up and grabbing onto Damian’s hand before he could unlock the door and escape, “Stay. You’re always welcome here, you know that.”

Assassin Damian slowly vanished as he relaxed, allowing Dick to tug him back over toward the couch.  

“Want to talk about it or watch a movie?”

Damian didn’t even pause to think before he declared, “Movie,” settling himself down into the couch.

It was a system they’d discovered worked well, before.  Damian found it difficult to ask for comfort, to ask someone to sit with him so he didn’t feel alone.  Despite Dick’s constant reassurances, he was still afraid of being seen as weak, but when an offer of comfort was phrased as ‘watching a movie, ‘it was easier.

Talking about it meant finding a solution to the problem, but watching a movie meant Dick would just be there.  They’d sit together on the couch, maybe Damian even curled up against him, depending on how anxious he was feeling.  The more anxious, the less likely he’d be to initiate physical contact.  But that was okay.  Dick let Damian lead.  

Dick threw in the first movie from his ‘Damian safe’ pile, which happened to be Madagascar.  Of course, the kid scoffed at the ‘infantile’ movie once the menu screen popped up, but he didn’t protest it.  Dick knew he secretly loved the ‘move it’ song.  

Damian started the movie out sitting stiffly next to Dick, his hands folded in a proper fashion, back straight and feet appropriately…. dangling off the couch.  Because for as old as Damian liked the act, he was still 11 and short.  Dick sat next to him, his arm on the couch behind him, as he fought to keep himself awake.  

Eventually, about half an hour in, Damian drew his socked feet up onto the couch and scooted back, allowing his head to touch Dick’s arm.  Then, another twenty minutes later, he abruptly leaned sideways, right into Dick’s side with a quiet huff.  

That was Dick’s cue, so he wrapped his arm around the little runt and pretended like it wasn’t a big deal.  Like Damian wasn’t a cat that spent most its day hiding and only came out for pets once in a blue moon.  Who had decided Dick was the chosen one, worthy of his presence.

“Father said,” Damian whispered, as the end credits started to roll, “that I am too reckless to be Robin.”

“Hmm,” Dick hummed, shifting a little and pulling Damian closer in such a way that made it seem like he was only doing it to be more comfortable himself, “why would he think that?”

“I disobeyed him,” Damian said miserably, “he told me to wait for him, but I went in after Toyman myself.”  

“Was it reckless?” Dick asked gently, turning the volume down on the credits so he could hear his little brother better.

“No,” Damian said defiantly, sitting up a little, allowing the anger he clearly still felt to show, “He was going to hurt that child.  I had to save her, and Father would not have arrived in time.”

Dick had to stifle a laugh, because that was such a Robin thing to do.  He was certain each and every one of them had pulled stunts like that many, many times.  Part of being Bruce’s partner, and not his sidekick meant sometimes using their own judgement and disobeying direct orders.  If anything, Bruce would have grounded him for such a rebellion.  Not fired. 

“And he fired you over that?”

Nodding, Damian said, “Took away the suit and said Robin was grounded.”

“Grounded?” Dick parroted, just to have Damian nod against him.

“I told him he couldn’t because he needed Robin, but he said he didn’t.”

“Oh, kiddo.”  

Damian scrubbed at his eyes and shifted again, before saying, “Can I stay here?”

“Bud,” Dick said slowly resting his cheek down in Damian’s hair, “I don’t think your dad will be too keen on allowing that.  He wants you with him.”

“No he doesn’t.  He said he doesn’t need me.”

And Dick was not rested enough for this.  

Because how does one convince a child.  A precious, hurting little child, who’s spent his entire life being told he was a weapon.  Being reminded that his worth as a human is contingent entirely upon his skills as a warrior.  That without the ability to maim any opponent he faces, he is entirely useless?  

How does one convince that child that he is loved and wanted, no matter how ‘useful’ he is?  No matter what his skills were?

The short answer was very slowly.  

Dick had no doubt that Bruce loved Damian.  That he wanted him around.  But as is his typical fashion, he’d managed to talk right over Damian and not actually see his son for who he was.  Or to even notice what his insecurities and damaging thought processes were.  

And like every other time Bruce dropped the ball, Dick was there to clean it up and set it all straight.  

He was not rested enough for this.  

“Dames, you know that’s not what he meant.” 

“It is,” he said petulantly, burrowing himself further back into the couch, his bony little elbow digging into Dick’s side as he did, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Damian-”

“No,” Damian shouted, pushing Dick’s arms off him as he sat up, “It’s not about that. It’s not- He’s not-”

“Okay,” Dick said, holding his hands up and backing off, letting Damian have that space, “Damian.  If it’s not that, tell me what’s really going on, then.”

When Damian didn’t respond except to cross his arms and turn away, Dick sighed and just stared down at his little brother.  At his little brother who had been more of a son to him than a brother.  A best friend and incredible partner.  

“Come on, bud, you can talk to me.”

“I-” Damian started, then paused to turn away.  To hide his face as it twisted in that peculiar way when he really started talking.  When he got down to the crux of his issue.  “You left.”

“Yes,” Dick said slowly, putting a hand on Damian’s back, “Because Bruce is back.”

“So you have to leave?”

“We went over this,” he said, because they had.  He thought they’d smoothed this over and it was all good.  This was what Damian wanted.  He wanted to be Bruce’s Robin.  To get to know his father.  “I’m not needed in Gotham anymore.”

“Yes you are.”

“Damian…”

“If Father doesn’t need Robin,” Damian said hurriedly, a petulant little pout on his face, showing off his true age, “then Robin can just work with you.”

“I’m not Batman anymore, kiddo.”

“So?” Damian demanded, “I’m not Father’s partner.  I’m your partner.”

“It’s Batman and Robin, not Nightwing and Robin.”

“Well then, I can be Flamebird!”

“Damian.”

“Like in the story.  I can get a new uniform and we can patrol together again.  Just like it should be.  You don’t have to come back to Gotham, I can stay here.  It’ll be-”

“Damian,” Dick said forcefully, allowing his tone to bite a little to trigger that ‘Obey, Robin,’ instinct they’d all been trained to heed.

And that did it.  Damian’s mouth snapped shut and he stilled, looking sheepishly up at Dick, like he’s been caught misbehaving.  Like he’s been caught spilling his guts and sharing his deepest thoughts and feelings.  Sharing all his anxieties.  

It made Dick feel like the lowest human on the face of the planet, because that’s exactly what he’d been doing.  And Dick made it seem like a bad thing.  With just a simple utterance of his name.

“I love you, kiddo,” he said, running his hand up and down Damian’s back, trying to be reassuring, “If this is what you really want, we can figure it out and make it work, but I don’t want you tossing your dad off so easily.  He’s your dad and he loves you, too.”

“But we’re the best,” he whispered, scraping his hand across his eyes.  Looking away so Dick couldn’t see.

“We are.  And you and him can be great too,” Dick said, wrapping both arms around Damian and pulling him in tight, “If you just give it more time.”

After a moment, Damian nodded and croaked out, very softly, “I miss you.  You never even call.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into Damian’s hair, “I miss you, too.  Tell you what, let me call into work and then we can go see a movie and get lunch.”

When all Damian did was sniff, Dick continued, “and maybe some ice cream.  We’ll go to the zoo, even, if you want.  Or the aquarium.  All day, just me and you.  Then you can stay the night and we’ll figure all this out tomorrow.”

Damian snuggled his face into Dick’s shirt and stayed there for several long minutes.  

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he sat back up and said, without a single trace of the tears Dick knew he was just shedding, “The art museum.  There is a new exhibit done by a family of artists from the early 1900s.  There are some pieces associated with the Dada and Surrealist movements I wish to see.”

“Cool,” was all Dick could say, because he had no idea what that meant, “Let me go make a call and then we’ll go, okay?”

Ruffling Damian’s hair, Dick made his way to the bedroom, where he decided he needed to call Bruce.  Or text him.  Probably text him, just to let him know where Damian was.  He’d call later when Damian wasn’t within earshot, because they had a lot to talk about.  

For now, though.  Today.  He could spend the day with his favorite little kid and push all their troubles and worries off until tomorrow.  That’s what tomorrows were for, after all.

[batfamily-trash]

“Friends”

Damian with prompt 6 and 9 it’s 6 and 8 I write it wrong sorry! fem reader

6. “Seven billion people in the world, and you’re overreacting because we killed one man.” “But-” “Seven. Billion. People. Now quit the complaining and drink your smoothie.

8. “This is the third time I’ve been kidnapped this WEEK. It’s getting old.”

You glared at the ground as you dangled 8 feet in the air. There was literally no way you could escape this situation unless you wanted to die, and you didn’t want that. Maybe you could negotiate with the assassins. Nah, annoying them sounds better. You tilted your head to the side and groaned when you noticed your kidnapper walking into the room.

“This is the third time I’ve been kidnapped this WEEK. It’s getting old. You could’ve just called instead of breaking into my room at midnight and tear my room up in the process,” you said annoyance lacing your voice. Your kidnapper laughed as they took their time approaching you.

“We had to make this look unprofessional,” they said kneeling down in front of you, “We had to throw him off.”

“Gee, where did you learn that from? John Mulaney’s show? Your son is going to show up and you know it, Talia.” you sneered. That’s right. Talia al Ghul kidnapped you instead of calling you.

You flinched as she roughly grabbed your chin and made you look at her. “That’s what I’m hoping for little y/n. Damian cares too much for you and that Kent boy. I don’t see why he likes you.”

“Well, for starters,” you said glancing up to the ceiling railing spotting a certain birdie. “I don’t expect him to take over a clique of assassins and try to take over the world like your father. Two, everyone needs that one friend that always gets in trouble and Jon is too much of a nice kid, and he’s a super so he can rescue himself. Three, for some odd reason Batman has me on a freaking watch list after I punched him and cuss him out.”

“Are you done?” Talia said standing up.

“Eh, I don’t know. I can find more things to argue about but your son looks like he is going to fall asleep any minute now,” you said looking up. Talia followed your gaze to where Damian was perched but he wasn’t there.

“There’s no one,” she informed you.

“Oh I know, I just don’t care and besides I made you look.”

Not even a second later Damian shows up out of nowhere with his katana on hand ready to stab anyone that gets in his way. “Hello, Mother.”

“Damian.”

“Y/n. Now that we all introduced each other for absolutely no reason, can someone cut me down? Please?” you said trying to free your hands.

You saw Damian roll his eyes and raise his sword as assassins ran into the room, ready to protect their leader.

“What do you want with l/n, mother?” Damian asked. You noticed someone approach you from behind as Talia walked towards her son.

“I just wanted to see you. To talk to you,” she said signaling the guy to cut you loose. They didn’t even give you enough time to adjust yourself so you wouldn’t land on your face. You groaned in pain as you landed on the ground.

“Tt, so you went through all this trouble to kidnap my associate?” he asked annoyed.

“And here I thought we were friends,” you mumbled. You untangled yourself from the mess of ropes and got off the floor.

“It was the only way you would talk to me,” Talia said. Honestly, you just wanted them to fix their problems so you could go home.

“Tt, your plan failed. l/n lets go,” Damian commanded. You stood in place and examined your nails showing no interest in leaving, even though you wanted to leave.

“y/n?”

“Huh? Oh, we’re leaving already? Are we allowed to go?” you asked nobody in particular. Talia nodded her head yes and lead you to the door. Time to do something.

“Dames, your mom went through a lot of trouble to kidnap. No, you know what? I’m not going to sugarcoat this,” you said grabbing Damian by the collar of his cape and dragging him to the center of the room. “Someone get some chairs and drinks! These two are going to talk to each other!”

Damian and Talia looked at you surprised. What the hell were you doing? Who freaking knows not you or him or her. “Now, you two are going to talk and I’m just going to sit here on the ground reciting the entire script of Hamilton to myself, AND THEN we can leave.”

“l/n we…”

“No,” you interrupted, “shut up and talk to your mom you dimwit.”

You sat down and gestured at the two to talk to each other.  This was not going to end well, is it?

Thirty minutes later you walked out of Talia’s base with a pissed off Robin. They did talk but then they started insulting each other for some weird reason. So after twenty insults you dragged Damian out and apologized to Talia. What a lovely night.

Back in Gotham you and Damian were in the kitchen of his home coming up with a plan to explain why you two were gone for a long time. Knowing the bat boys, they would just come up with the dirtiest excuse ever and you don’t need that.

“Okay, so how about we tell your father that we went to Star City to hang out with Emiko and then it turned into a girls night out?” you suggested.

“In case you have forgotten I’m a male. Meaning I can’t participate in this girls night out.”

“Fine you went to a boys night out with Jon and whatever friends you have and I went on a murdering spree,” you said carelessly.

“Who went on a murder spree?” someone asked. You slowly turned your chair towards the owner of the voice and took a sip of your drink.

“Uh I did sir, not to worry I only killed one guy,” you said. Bruce raised his eyebrow as he walked into the kitchen.

“One guy?” At this point, Damian sneaked out of the kitchen and left you alone.

“Uh, yup.”

“Killing isn’t tolerated here.”

“You know the Earth is suffering from overpopulation right?”

“One death..”

“Seven billion people in the world, and you’re overreacting because I killed one man.”

“But-”

“Seven. Billion. People. Now quit the complaining and drink your smoothie.” you interrupted sliding a smoothie towards him. You got up and quickly walked out of the room in search of Damian. When you found him you threw the nearest object at him. Which happened to be a lamp.

“Seriously?!?!?! How dare you leave me with the one person that hates me?!?!”

“You’re overreacting y/n.”

“Screw you. Wayne.”

“Please don’t. Besides I rescued you, you owe me.”

You glared at the 5-foot gremlin in front of you. “I owe you? Shall I remind you who kidnapped me?”

“My mother has kidnapped all my friends at least once.”

“Oh so now I’m your friend.”

“Yes, and if I were you I would sit down and read a book before attracting attention.”

You stomped like a five year and sat down on Damian’s bed and stole his book. Least to say the rest of the day went on smoothly, with the occasional rumor and death threats of course.