#what are you gonna do make another tim joke | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hunterrrs · 1 month ago

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another sidnate love fest on SC ("he could be 50 and i'd still slide over" - said by man who fucked that old man) (plus he loves mitchy SO MUCH and wants to do a timmies commercial with him, sid and marchy causing Trouble)

Q: I was actually gonna ask you, now that you’re the reigning MVP, you used to have to go over to Sid’s gym all summer long. It was the older one, you spent all this money for the new upgraded one. Now that you’re the MVP does he have to come train with you? How does that work?

A: No, no, it doesn’t work like that *laughs* (You’re still getting bullied?) Oh yeah. Still going to his gym. All good. He’s 20 years in the league, so… Yeah. I train with Batheson so I make him come to my gym. He makes me feel better about myself, so… that’s what I do.

Q: What did you say to Sid when he took 8.7, did you know that was coming?

A: Yeah, I mean *laughs* I remember, like, in July I was like, man, you’re not gonna sing for 8.7. Like c’mon. He’s like, ah, I don’t know, we’ll see. It’s so cool though, the legacy he’s leaving. How much money is left on the table and his desire to still win. He’s still taking less to try and get somebody else this year and next year.

Q: As somebody who’s always looked up to him, he’s 37 now, he’s still doing it. That’s gotta not only amaze you but also kinda inspire you a little bit. Does that surprise you that he’s still doing it or not at all, knowing him?

A: Man, you should see this guy in the summer. My workouts are like a joke. The recovery summers I do, and he is just grinding. He just grinds. He loves it, I think. I think it’s also awesome, not that he wouldn’t be motivated having this Four Nations thing, and then the Olympics. So no matter what happens, he’s got two things to look forward to and be dialled in for and I think being the captain of Canada, I can’t imagine the pressure to be at your best. He’s ready. He looks amazing, All the guys on the ice, it’s amazing he’s 37. He doesn’t look 37. (Because he doesn’t have kids!) *laughs* Must be the key.

Q: Did you actually have a cereal released in 2021 called MacKinnon Crunch?

A: I did. Frosted flakes. I picked the flavour though, I liked that. (Was that right before you got your deal with Tim Hortons, became a server at their restaurant?) That was 2015. (Do they have you do that same thing every summer?) We haven’t done that since then. We’ve always wanted to do one where we get Marchy in there just because we’re Nova Scotians, and he’s being a rat and messing up people’s orders, and we gotta like sit him down and tell him what to do. They haven’t done that yet. Marchy needs to be nicer on the ice to be more marketable.

Q: Would that be your dream line for the Four Nations? Yourself, Sid and Marchand?

A: That would be cool. (You’d play the wing?) Oh yeah. Yeah, I’m ready for the wing. Definitely. McDavid, Sid, one-two punch. And then everyone kinda figures it out. (In a room like that you’d essentially delegate to McDavid?) You’re not putting McDavid on the wing, that’s crazy! I don’t mind right wing, I’ve played wing, I’m comfortable there and I don’t know if those two have ever played wing. I’m sure they could easily figure it out. They’re two of the smartest players ever. But I think to have those two guys a one-two punch and then if I’m third line centre that’s cool, if I’m playing on McDavid’s right.

Should I tell Sid to go to the wing, do you think? (“I’ve been working at your gym all these years. I’m the Ted Lindsay winner and the MVP. I gotta get something out of this relationship.”) Yeah, I think he could be 50 and I’d still slide over. No problem. Being on a Nova Scotia line it would be really cool. I think we’d work well together too. The way Marchy plays he’s just gonna muck, forecheck, and then Sid’s Sid, and I can try to push the pace.

Q: You said you went to Europe this summer…

A: It’s just relaxing. Just get off the grid. I was definitely tempted to go to Worlds last year. Sid was bugging me and Schenner bout it. (Saying what, if you go, I’ll go?) Yeah. So we were all gonna go, but then I was just like man, I just played 105 games, just lost to Dallas. At this point I feel like I’m all in or it’s hard to go over there and like (Skate around and giggle.) It’s just tough.

Q: You skated in the summer with Marner, how’s he looking?

A: He looks awesome. You hear stuff that’s always negative, a lot of the time it’s negative and then you get on the ice with him and you’re like, how can anyone ever be negative about this? That’s why I think for me, I just admire how good he is because people chirp him a lot. Up in Vail he was sick. Him and McDavid were flying around together. It was so fun to watch.

Also, beloved health freak <3

I used to like going to Popeye’s Supplements as a kid with my dad and looking at protein powder and stuff. I don’t know. I’m just into it.

Q: We heard so much about you policing the food in the locker room. Are you still doing that? Are you still going on there, like no sugars, no sweets. Whit said you strangled Lehkonen because he ate a Snickers bar or something. Is that true?

A: Nawww, stop it. That’s not true *laughs* I’m trying to mellow a little bit for sure. I definitely see some shit and I get mad but I try to keep it to myself. I don’t know, you eat what you want but I just think when you’re at the rink, we’re the NHL, you’re a pro athlete, I think it should be healthy and good food. I just think the least you can do as a pro athlete is be in good shape.

#i would die for the sidnatemarchy commercial... please timmies...#nathan mackinnon #sidney crosby #brad marchand #mitch marner #connor mcdavid #pittsburgh penguins #colorado avalanche #toronto maple leafs #edmonton oilers #boston bruins #sidnate

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incorrectbatfam · 1 year ago

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How about Bruce pranking/embarrassing/making fun of (not in a bad way) the kids as payback for their pranks/jokes?

Dick: I'm going to Wally's.

Bruce: *grunts*

Dick: *leaves*

Bruce: *makes a phone call*

Bruce: Barry, I need you and Wally to come over here for a minute.

———————

Bruce: *pats Tim's back and sticks a barcode*

Tim: What was that for?

Bruce: Just letting you know you're doing a great job, son.

[30 minutes later]

Tim: *wearing headphones*

Bruce: *walks by and scans it*

[1 hour later]

Tim: *asleep at his desk*

Bruce: *walks by and scans it*

[2 hours later]

Bruce: *walks by and scans it*

Tim: What was that beeping?

Bruce: Just my phone.

———————

Bruce: Barbara, can you help me analyze this Kryptonite sample?

Barbara: Hm... the color and texture line up with mechanically-cut Kryptonite, but something about it seems off. Where did you find it?

Bruce: The docks.

Barbara: I'm gonna need to run some tests.

Bruce: *wonders when he should tell her it's green glass*

———————

[at dinner]

Duke: *turns and talks to someone*

Bruce: *adds a scoop of mashed potatoes to Duke's plate*

Duke: *goes back to his plate*

Duke: *leaves to get a drink*

Bruce: *adds another scoop*

Duke: *comes back and keeps eating*

Duke: *drops his fork and bends down to get it*

Bruce: *adds another scoop*

Duke: Anyway, what was I saying before?

Bruce, pointing: What's that?

Duke: *looks behind him*

Bruce: *adds another scoop*

———————

Steph: Bruce, have you seen my sweater? The purple one with white flowers.

Bruce: No, sorry.

Steph: Oh, okay. No biggie.

Steph: *leaves*

Bruce: *takes the sweater to the post office*

[a couple days later]

Alfred: Miss Stephanie, there is a package for you.

Steph: Weird, I didn't order anything.

Steph: *opens it*

Steph:

———————

Cass: *lurking in the corner*

Bruce: *secretly takes a picture from above with a drone*

Bruce: *AirDrops it to her*

———————

Bruce: What do you want for the holidays?

Damian: Well, I would like another cat.

Bruce: I'll see what I can do.

[weeks later]

Damian: A bulldozer?

Bruce: Not just any bulldozer. A Cat.

———————

Jason: *parks and goes inside*

Bruce: *steals Jason's bike tires*

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porcelana-r0ta · 1 year ago

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let the mourners come

Title: let the mourners come

Ao3 Link: Only available to Ao3 users

Word Count: 3045

Summary:

It started, as most things do with Danny Fenton, as a joke.

It ended, as most things do with Jazz Fenton, with things better than they were before.

xxXxx

When Danny finally gets a Twitter, it’s during Elon Musk’s shit show takeover. He’s able to secure a good Twitter handle thanks to people leaving en masse and fleeing to Tumblr. He knows about things that happen outside of Amity Park (he is terminally online rather than chronically, after all), but he still doesn’t think anything of using @TheJoker as his handle, even knowing about Gotham City’s clown troubles. It’s just going to be a shitpost account, anyway, one that dances in the chaos of Elon’s electronic graveyard. Nothing will come about him using @TheJoker when he’s merely posting things like, “Just grew a new row of teeth!!! very pointy but can’t go to the dentist anymore bc they might turn me in to the giw.”

So Danny honestly never foresaw The Actual Real Joker breaking out of Arkham Asylum all the way in Gotham City, New Jersey, and deciding to get a Twitter account to terrorize people online as well as offline. And he definitely never foresaw The Joker @’ing him on Twitter, demanding that Danny change his Twitter handle. But, well. Here he was.

[Image Description: A screenshot of a Twitter reply chain, starting with the real Joker @'ing Danny's Twitter account, which uses TheJoker as his Twitter handle. The Joker, who has a verified account, demands that Danny "change your handle", and Danny replies with a simple "no" followed by red heart emoji. The Joker Tweets, "Kid you don't know who you're fucking with," to which Danny replies, "Ye I do ur some dude w/ poor fashion sense and lame jokes. Maybe try badjokesbyjeff bc originality is ugly on u" followed by a shrugging emoticon. The Joker responds, "Check your DMs." Danny then responds, "Perf [happy emoji surrounded by hearts] I've sent you a time and place. Can't wait to beat the shit out of another disgrace of a clown." Someone with the username "Gregg rulz ok" responds to Danny's last Tweet, "Bro is absolutely RATIOING the joker but the clown keeps responding [three skull emojis] embarrassing frfr too bad he's gonna die for realsies".

End ID]

Danny is quick to respond and then makes even quicker work of roasting The Joker. This soon results in The Joker DMing him his IP Address and a creative threat. Still, Danny isn’t about to cow to a clown with no respect for the art of clowning. He replies to the DM:

Cool, meet me at the Nasty Burger parking lot in Amity Park IL on tuesday at 2am

The response from The Joker is quick:

Fourteen year olds are too confident these days

Danny rolls his eyes and ignores the influx of notifications from Twitter, and instead makes another Tweet.

Imagine beefing with someone over a Twitter handle lol acc so embarrassing for him

He blackens his screen and stretches in bed, letting his spine pop more than what is humanly possible. He runs his tongue over that second row of teeth, his lips curling into a grin.

xxXxx

Gothamite Twitter is blowing up over The Joker’s social media beef with a faceless shitposting account. Jason, upon finding out about it, has a series of reactions: first, he looks up the shitposter and follows them. Then, he finds the actual chain between the poster and The Joker, and his vision goes vibrant green when he sees that The Joker’s profile picture is of the second Robin, beaten and swollen in an abandoned building in Ethiopia.

When his vision clears and he can breathe without wanting to kill, he likes the shitposter’s replies, and he calls the Replacement to see if the other Bats know already.

“We know,” Tim says in lieu of a hello when the ringing cuts out. “We’re working on it.”

“What, you think anything’s gonna come of it?” But even as Jason asks, he already knows the answer. The Joker is unhinged and once he’s threatened something, he’ll follow up unless he comes up with a “funnier” option.

Tim’s breath hitches, and he says, “I’ve hacked their DMs. Joker knows the kid’s IP address and sent it to him. He knows everything from that address alone.”

He pauses in the middle of suiting up, “Kid?”

He hears Tim swallow, “Yes, kid. He’s fifteen. And he gave The Joker a specific time and place to meet up to fight. In his own hometown.”

“Are— are you fucking kidding me?”

“No. B is already calling Nightwing. We’re taking the Batwing to Illinois.”

“Jesus fuck. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Hood, I—”

“Shut up, I’m already in my gear.” He hangs up without waiting for a response.

He refreshes the Twitter feed and barks a laugh at the newest Tweet:

Jason Todd votes, and the Red Hood leaves his safe house.

xxXxx

A commercial flight to Illinois takes around two and a half hours. In the Batwing, they get there in an hour, and don’t even have to worry about the drive from Chicago to a small speck of a town like Amity Park. They spend the quick flight learning everything they can about Daniel James Fenton, the owner of the Twitter account, and they can all sense the growing tension from (and between) Bruce and Jason.

But, well. Jason doesn’t care. Let them be uncomfortable. It doesn’t compare to being ripped back into life and finding out his dad didn’t even get justice for his death.

When they reach town, it doesn’t take long to find the Fentons’ home. This is in part because Amity Park is a very navigable town, and because of the giant neon sign proclaiming FentonWorks on the side of the building.

“Is that a blimp?” Dick asks. “Why don’t we have a blimp?”

“Where would we keep it?” the Demon Brat counters practically. “Goliath takes up all of the Cave’s extra space.”

Jason rolls his eyes and knows veins would be popping out of Bruce’s forehead if it weren’t for the cowl.

“Let’s go,” Bruce says instead, and they all make their way to the house.

Nightwing, predictably, goes for the front door approach. Jason rolls his eyes as he takes one of the second-story windows and finds his way downstairs.

He gets down at the same time that a redheaded girl answers the door and nearly slams it in Dick’s face. Jason has to suppress snickers at the sight.

“Wait, wait, wait, are you Jazz Fenton? We need to talk to your brother!”

“...We?” she asks, then tenses and turns around to see the rest of the Bats in the hall behind her. Dick takes the opportunity to step in completely, closing the door behind him. “Wha— what’s going on?”

“Where are your parents, Jazz?” Bruce makes every question sound like a demand. Jason rolls his eyes from behind his mask—way to put the teenager at ease, B.

“Why do you need to know?” Her voice has a defensive edge to it. “What do you want with Danny?”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Nightwing comforts. “He didn’t do anything too bad, just said some dumb things online. It’s not his fault.”

This relaxes her, and her shoulders begin un-hunching. “Oh, s-so what’d he do?”

“He foolishly challenged The Joker to a battle in a ‘Nasty Burger’ parking lot tonight.”

“You could’ve had some more tact, Robin,” Nightwing scolds. But the Demon Spawn just crosses his arms.

“He did what?” Jazz shrieks. “Like, The Joker from Gotham? That Joker?”

“Are there others?” Red Hood comments dryly.

Her face goes through several different emotions—disbelief, rage, fear, and then rage again, “DANIEL JAMES FENTON! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!”

There’s a thumping noise, and then frantic footsteps down the stairs.

“Wha? Who died?” asks the figure of a tiny fifteen-year-old, smaller than even Jason had been when he was alone with The Joker. He’s tiny and lanky. Zero muscle definition. Eye bags to rival the Replacement’s. Something ripples in the Pit, deep and distinct, but he can’t name what causes it.

Oh, this kid is so dead.

“Danny,” says Jazz calmly while Danny blinks uncomprehendingly at the heroes in their hallway. She is solemn when she says, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you now.”

“What did I do?”

She stares at him, “Why have you scheduled a fight with The Joker?”

“Oh, that.” He rubs the back of his neck, “Is he taking that seriously?”

“Of course he is, Danny! It’s The Joker! That’s what he does! He can’t differentiate between a joke and reality! He would tear off his own face for the bit!”

“Oof,” is all Danny can muster. He digs his phone out and starts typing before Jazz yanks it out his hand.

“You’re fucking TWEETING about this?” Jazz asks incredulously, and Hood’s hackles rise. She even reads the Tweet aloud, “‘Just found out @TheJ0ker is being fr about fighting me. Sad but i can take a clown.’”

“I was gonna add ‘i’ve done it b4,’ but like the letter and the number four. But yeah.”

“You’re grounded forever.” Danny opens his mouth to protest, but the look Jazz cuts at him is so scathing that he shuts his mouth. Hood is reluctantly impressed—she had what could be cultivated into a fantastic Batglare. She pockets the phone, “You’re never getting this phone back. Taunting The Joker to Amity? Have you any brain cells? What if he brings Joker gas with him, huh? Or any of his goons? What if he starts hurting other people? Have you thought any of this through?”

Danny’s face goes from tired to chastised, his lips drawing into a frown, especially at the mention of other people.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think that he’d take it so seriously.”

“He sent you your IP Address.”

“I thought that was just a random string of numbers?”

“Oh my god,” Jazz despairs. “Oh my god. Grounded forever. See, I know you're lying to me. I know you're lying because Tucker, the nerdiest tech nerd to have ever been born, is your best friend.”

He rubs the back of his neck, “I tune him out?”

“You’re still lying to me?” Jazz scoffs and turns to Batman, “Do whatever you want with him. I’m not going to defend him from this.”

“Hey!” complained her brother, but Batman just continued on, “Where are your parents?”

“They’re in Sweden for a science convention,” Jazz answers. “They left this morning.”

Damn, Jason curses to himself.

“Jazz, seriously. You’re not gonna let Batman kill me, right?”

“Do you want to be cremated or buried, Danny?” Jazz asks blasély, and Danny gulps, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

“It’s my Twitter handle,” he mutters petulantly, and Jason can’t believe the gall of this kid. Or maybe stupidity. Audacity’s a good one, too. “If he wanted it, he should’ve gotten it first. And he gives clowns a bad name.”

“Not the clown thing again.” Jazz digs her palms into her eyes, sighs, then turns to the heroes. “He has a whole clown thing ever since Circus Gothica came to town and robbed a bunch of jewelry stores.”

Danny gestures wildly with his hands, as if demonizing clowns was the real problem and not the egomaniacal mass murderer who wanted to murder him for his Twitter handle, “Clowning is an art form, Jazz, and people like Freakshow and The Joker make a mockery of the very serious societal statements that clowns make!”

All of the Bats very carefully Did Not look at Nightwing, who has made very similar rants on quiet patrols.

“You are never leaving this house again,” she says serenely. “And I’m unplugging the wifi router.”

“You would punish even yourself?”

“Oh, little brother. I would watch the world burn if it meant knocking sense into your thick skull.”

“Okay, Christ,” Red Hood finally interrupted the siblings’ melodrama. An unyielding redheaded girl and a mouthy black-haired, blue-eyed boy? They’d fit in a little too well back at the Manor, so Jason needs to cut this shit out before Bruce’s bat-doption instincts start tingling. “Stop. Just… Christ. Stop. Is this how you always interact with each other?”

“Sometimes there’s explosions,” Danny pipes up, a cheeky grin on his face.

Jazz doesn’t dispute it.

Fucking hell. God damn it. I can’t. I just can’t.

Batman doesn’t give anything away, “Robin and Red Robin will be staying here with you until Nightwing, Hood, and I apprehend The Joker. First, we’re going to check the perimeter.”

“Oooh, I get to give the lab tour!”

Lab?

“No lab. You’re grounded. You’ll only be in there for cleaning duty now.”

“Wh– hey! No fair!”

“What’s this lab you two are talking about?” Red Robin asks before Jazz can rip into her brother again.

She sighs, “Our parents’ lab. I’ll show you, but someone needs to stay with Danny.”

“You act like I’m gonna run off and start World War III….”

“I wonder why,” she says sarcastically.

Batman nods to Robin, who nods back, and the rest of them follow Jazz out of the living room to a metal reinforced door. She types in a code—Jason catches the numbers 03-14-99. There’s an assenting beep, and she opens the door, flicking on the lights and leading them down into what is apparently a basement lab.

A stone settles in Red Hood’s stomach, cold and heavy.

The basement is large, likely the floor size of the entire building. There are several work tables, filled with miscellaneous blueprints and spare parts and weapons and tools. Against the farthest wall is another armored door, but what draws Hood’s—and the entire Batclan’s—attention is the south wall, where a circular hole in the wall was glowing a toxic Pit green.

The stone shattered in his stomach, splintering into his body. Is it harder or easier to breathe? Jason can’t tell.

“Wow,” says Nightwing. His voice is cheerful, but Jason can feel the stress beneath it. “Do I even want to know?”

Wasn’t this supposed to just be typical Joker bullshit?

“Our parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz explains nonchalantly, walking further into the lab. “As in, ghost biologists.” She pauses at one of the work tables, picking up a green and white thermos. Pretty boring, considering the rest of their surroundings.

“Ghosts.” Red Robin’s voice is carefully neutral.

“Ghosts,” Jazz reaffirms. “I know. I thought they were crazy at first, too. But I can prove it, if you like.” Then, without waiting for a yes or no, she untwists the thermos, and there’s a bright flash of white, and a whole entire body sprouting out of it.

“WHOO! I’M FREE!” cries the…being, pale and floating and lanky and entirely too big to have fit into a fucking thermos, of all the fucking things. “....And not in the Realms? Wait.” He stops stretching, descending to rest closer to the ground, but still hovering a few inches from the floor. He’s got green eyes and lifeless (ha) blond hair. He’s wearing a trenchcoat and a green skull necklace. Overall, he looks like the type of thug he’d arrest in the Bowery.

“Hello, Johnny.” The man’s—ghost’s?—eyes flicker around each person in the room, his gaze becoming more and more confused and panicked as he takes in each Bat, before settling on Jazz Fenton.

“Why are the fucking Bats here?”

“The Joker’s coming to Amity,” she says. The ghost’s eyes widen. Jazz tilts her head, “How many ghosts would you say passed away in Gotham, Johnny?”

As Jason and the Bats tense, this Johnny guy lets out a wicked laugh, “Oh, Doll, you have the best surprises. Why did we break up?”

“You did try to have my body possessed. That ruins any good relationship.”

“Man, but Kitty’ll love this. Thanks for letting me out of Soup Time, Doll.” He floats higher, “Any advice?”

She throws him the phone she’d confiscated from Danny and he catches it easily, “Everything’s on here. Have fun.”

“What exactly are you planning?” Batman scowls.

Johnny laughs, “Aww, don’t worry, Bats. Peace and love on Planet Earth, or whatever. We’ll make it quick.” Then, as the Bats leap into action as one, Johnny turns invisible, the Batarangs passing harmlessly through where he’d once been floating.

“Where did he go?” Batman turns his scowl, angrier than ever, to Jazmin Fenton, who stares back unflinchingly. “He’s going to solve the problem.”

“You mean he’s going to kill The Joker.”

She shakes her head, “Oh, no. That’d just be asking for him to come back as a ghost. Could you imagine a Joker with powers like invisibility, intangibility, flight, and more? Johnny can be impulsive, but he’s smart. None of them will kill The Joker.”

“Then what are they going to do?” Red Robin asks.

“My parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz repeats from earlier. “But I am more of an anthro-ectopologist. I am concerned with the study of ectoplasmic beings’ societies and cultures. And while it is very ancient, there is protocol in the Infinite Realms—that is, where you go when you die, should you remain after death—to prosecute living criminals who have killed a certain number of Realms citizens. So you don’t have to worry about your moral code, Batman. The Joker will be tried by a much fairer court than Gotham can ever hope to have. No offense.”

Jason stares at Jazz Fenton, who he’d pegged as the sane sibling. He’s not so sure now, but he can’t say he hates it.

“And how do we know it’s a fair trial?” Nightwing asks.

She waves her hand, “Oh, as Gotham’s Knights, you’re key witnesses. I’m sure you’ll be summoned to testify. You will see then. And don’t worry about your secret identities—the dead don’t care much for that sort of thing.”

“So if this is a ‘fair’ trial or whatever, The Joker’s going to be locked up forever?” Jason asks. “I mean, that’s the only option for shit like him.”

Batman sends him a look, but he ignores it.

“Well, there are several different punishments that could be deemed appropriate, but he’ll never be able to set foot in the mortal world again, yes.”

Jason Todd grins, “Oh, I’m glad your brother’s stupid, kid.”

She sighs, long-suffering, “Well, that makes one of us. Still, there’s more important things we should discuss now that you’re here.”

“More important than The Joker trying to kill your brother over a Twitter handle?” Red Robin asks doubtfully.

Jazz smiles, sharp and dangerous, and asks, ”Have you ever heard of the Anti-Ecto Acts?”

xxXxx

Several months later when Danny is finally un-grounded, he Tweets his last three Tweets before Twitter can become the foolishly named X:

Imagine bullying the Joker so hard that it not only lands the Joker in ghost prison BUT it also leads to major law reform in the US lmao someone make the domino effect meme about this pls

Y’allre replying to me with thanks like i did anything other than be an internet troll. My sister literally manipulated local, federal, and interdimensional law so you should be thanking her.

i just a babie 🥺🥺🥺

xxXxx

Thanks for reading! This is the whole fic, so pls do not ask for tags! Thank you :)

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #danny phantom #danny fenton #jazz fenton #jason todd #batman #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #the joker #johnny 13 #severely ooc

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suzukiblu · 1 year ago

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Excerpt from the one where Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it.

(The read-more is definitely necessary, length-wise. I . . . got very into this idea and frankly this is barely a third of it so far, lol.)

"So, uh . . ." Kon says, skeptically eyeing the softly glowing rock in his hand. Metallo, like, threw it at his head. He has no idea why. "Is this supposed to do something or . . . ?"

"It's pink," Kara says leerily, staying very firmly back. Like, unexpectedly far back, in fact.

"Yeah, I'm not actually blind, thanks," Kon says, turning the rock over and squinting at it. It continues not to do anything, aside from the glowing thing.

"No, it's pink kryptonite," she stresses.

". . . it literally doesn't hurt at all, though?" Kon says. Though he probably should've figured it was some kind of kryptonite, given that Metallo had it and had apparently thought he could hurt him with it.

Seriously, though, his gloves are fingerless and he's got it right in his hand. It should be hurting him, if it's actually kryptonite.

"Pink kryptonite doesn't work like that," Kara says, edging a little farther back. They're floating a few hundred feet in the air right now, but from the way she's acting Kon's vaguely concerned that he might be about to explode or something. "It just affects our sexual . . . urges."

"Oh," Kon says, frowning in confusion. Weird, but . . . "Is that all?"

"I don't mean like it makes you horny, Kon, I mean like it makes you homosexual," Kara hisses, looking mortified. "And don't ask how I know, alright?!"

Kon . . . blinks.

"What the literal fuck?" he asks incredulously, just staring at her. "How does that even–are you telling me Metallo went and chucked gay kryptonite at me in the middle of a fight?"

"Yes!" Kara says, still clearly mortified. "So just–just stay over there with it until somebody shows up with a lead box, okay?! The effects will stop after we get it contained."

"Alright, alright. So then do you think the dude was flirting with me or is he just a fucking idiot?" Kon jokes, balancing the kryptonite on his index finger with his TTK. "Although I really don't think he'd be my type either way. Like, nothing against cyborgs in general, obviously, just the whole thing with him being a murderous supervillain who literally runs on kryptonite seems like it'd make us totally star-crossed. I want somebody I can actually commit to, you know?"

"Sure," Kara says, still eyeing the kryptonite with serious trepidation. It's really not helping Kon feel less like a time bomb, to be honest. Is there like some other side effect that he should be worrying about right now or something? Like, is he missing something here?

"You seem kinda high-strung about this," he observes, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Look, you'd have avoided it too if you'd dealt with it before!" she says protestingly. "So stay over there and definitely keep it away from Kal, I don't know if Jimmy ever really recovered from the last time."

"Oh, well, congrats to Jimmy, I guess," Kon says, since he can't really see a downside to scoring a one-night stand with Superman. Like, a downside for somebody who isn't literally his clone, he means. The clone thing would definitely make it weird.

Just it's also Clark, though, so he'd probably be the generous type in bed. Like, the sort to really take care of somebody. Be as gentle as happened to be appropriate but also be down if his partner maybe wanted it a little rough for whatever reason. And he'd definitely be able to go all night. Again, Kon isn't gonna go there himself, it really would be too weird, but he can make a logical conclusion. Extrapolate one. Whatever.

Then again he'd be down with Power Girl absolutely destroying him whenever the fuck she wanted to and she's genetically his . . . some form of cousin or something, he guesses. His half-cousin from another reality. So really, Clark's not even that weird an option. And like, all appearances aside Kon's a binary clone anyway, not even a one-for-one match, sooooo . . .

Actually it's probably weirder that he thinks Power Girl is so unspeakably hot but comparatively Kara is just . . . fine? Like, that's a little odd, isn't it?

Maybe it's an attitude thing. Or the costume.

Might be safe to blame the costume, yeah.

It's just such a good costume. Like, Kon aspires to reach that level of costume.

But really, all that aside he still doesn't even know what the big deal about temporarily going gay is, although to be fair he's also currently talking to Supergirl and not, like . . . literally any dude whatsoever. So like, who knows how weird this stuff might actually make him under those circumstances. Maybe it like fucks with inhibitions and stuff too?

Yeah, hell if he knows. He's really only dealt with green kryptonite before. He was vaguely aware that other colors existed and apparently did different stuff, but . . . this just seems very different, put it that way.

Maybe best to avoid Jimmy Olsen for a little while, Kon decides privately. The guy probably doesn't need that.

Besides, Clark apparently got there first anyway and Kon just really doesn't want to be worrying about measuring up. Miss him with that, thanks.

. . . although maybe he'll go visit Tim later.

Eh, no, Kara made it sound like the pink K's gonna stop affecting him pretty quick once they box it up, so not much point in bothering. Though maybe he'll visit just to hang, come to think of it; they haven't seen each other in almost a whole week. Well, he hasn't seen Tim, at least–who knows how much Bat-surveillance Tim's seen him through.

Kon should maybe sweep his room for bugs again. Note to self.

Although would it be weird to just like . . . keep the pink kryptonite, maybe? Since it apparently doesn't actually hurt anyone or anything? Because that could be, well . . . just interesting, that's all. Like, Kon is open to exploring that experience. Just–as an experience.

"Actually, you're surprisingly not high-strung about this," Kara says.

"Am I?" Kon asks. "I mean, it's not that big a deal, is it?"

She stares at him.

"Kon," she says slowly. "Pink kryptonite affects your sexuality. It makes you attracted to people you're not normally attracted to. It confuses you and everyone around you and it is really freaking embarrassing to explain afterwards."

"I've been mind-controlled into shaving my head and breaking my best friend's arm," Kon says, continuing to not really see what the big deal is. "That was embarrassing. And fucking traumatic. This? This is just kinda weird."

"Only kinda?" Kara asks incredulously. "You're one of the straightest guys I know! How are you just fine with this?!"

"I mean to be fair, that's probably making some unfair generalizations about straight guys," Kon points out. Kara stares at him. "What?"

"I don't even know how to respond to that," she says.

"Sorry?" Kon says, then tucks the pink kryptonite into his jacket pocket with a shrug. He's not trying to hide it or anything; just getting kinda sick of holding it. And it's that or he either ditches it somewhere or starts tossing it around and that'd probably be . . . just, well, absolutely epically stupid of him.

Or it seems like it would be, anyway. Whatever color it is, it's still kryptonite.

"I mentioned keeping that away from Kal, right?" Kara says.

"Yeah, on that note, are they like . . . done down there yet?" Kon asks, glancing down towards the mess of the street that Clark's standing on a few hundred feet below with a whole bunch of randos from S.T.A.R. Labs, for some reason. Somebody mentioned something about neutralizing Metallo's kryptonite heart without actually killing him, but mostly it was science talk and clearly theoretical anyway so to be honest Kon'd kinda tuned it all out as "not currently relevant", and that's all he knows.

"Definitely not," Kara says.

"I'm gonna call Robin while we're killing time, then," Kon says, pulling out his phone.

"You're going to call your closest male friend," Kara says. "Right now. While you've got pink kryptonite in your pocket."

"Yup," Kon says, already pulling up Tim's contact.

"Can you not see how that might be a bad idea at the moment?" Kara asks. "Not in any way whatsoever?"

"Well I'm not calling Impulse," Kon replies reasonably. Kara stares at him again, for some reason.

Eh, whatever.

He calls Tim.

"Hey, Conner, what's up?" Tim answers distractedly, which Kon doesn't hold against him because when isn't Tim distracted, really. Dude's got too much going on in that head of his, for real. He's just glad the guy ever picks up the phone at all.

"So apparently I'm gay right now," Kon greets conversationally, figuring he should lead with that just in case he actually is about to do something embarrassing to explain. "Pink kryptonite is fucking weird, man."

". . . uh," Tim says as Kara covers her face with her hands. "What?"

"Pink kryptonite makes you gay, Kara says," Kon says. "And we're both just kind of chilling above downtown Metropolis waiting for Kal to finish up with the science-y people so we can get said pink K locked up, so I'm bored out of my mind right now and calling you to complain about it."

"You're calling me," Tim says slowly. "While you're . . . gay."

"What, is he asking to come over?" another voice asks from the phone, sounding amused. It takes Kon a second to recognize it, but–oh yeah, that's the mysterious Bernard, isn't it?

Right, Tim has a boyfriend now. Kon's never actually met him on account of being the worst at secret identities and the whole thing that is Bernard living very firmly in Gotham, land of "no metas allowed unless you're either a supervillain or Batman's too dead to stop you", but he's heard him over the phone a couple times now, although they've never actually personally talked. So maybe thinking about Tim while being high on pink kryptonite isn't actually, like, kosher? Or polite. Or whatever.

. . . then again, Bernard did ask.

"I don't know, maybe?" Kon says thoughtfully, considering the idea. "Are you open to me coming over?"

"Yes," Bernard says.

"Bernard," Tim says.

"Babe, I know we're pretending I don't know you're an ass-kicking vigilante and all but come on, don't make me turn down Superboy," Bernard says wryly.

"We're–wait, pretending?!" Tim sputters.

"Pretending so, so hard," Bernard confirms, sounding nothing but fond. Kon's actually a little jealous of that tone of voice, he's gotta admit. Like–it's been a bit since anybody's talked to him that way, is all. "But like, if you actually thought you were being subtle maybe you shouldn't talk about kryptonite on the phone right in front of me or put themed emojis next to all your superfriends' civilian names in your contacts list?"

"Oh my god, you do that?!" Kon asks with a gleeful cackle, immediately forgetting everything else in favor of that absolutely delightful piece of information. "You're the worst! Batman just rolled over in his grave and Oracle is absolutely losing her shit on the other end of her wiretap!"

"B's not even dead right now," Tim says in exasperation. "And if O cared she'd have already hacked my phone and changed them. And for the record plenty of people put random superhero emojis next to their friends' names, that's a totally normal thing to do!"

"Usually the random superhero emojis aren't associated with contact pics that are dead fucking ringers for said superheroes," Bernard says, sounding amused again. "Just as a thing and all."

". . . anyway so you're gay today, how's that going for you, Conner?" Tim says as Bernard laughs gleefully in the background. "Triggering any unfortunate mental health crisises or anything? Making you worry about the validity of your masculinity? Because I can safely assure you that's all bullshit and you're fine."

"Naw, I know all that, being gay is just a thing," Kon says with a shrug. "Kara's being a little weird about it but honestly it's going way better than, like, the times supervillains mind-controlled me into being into them. Like just as an overall experience, I mean."

"Wait, how many times has that come up?" Tim asks in bemusement.

"I dunno?" Kon shrugs again. "I mean you were there for the Poison Ivy incident, and then Gorgeous Gilly happened to me a while later, which was, uh, genuinely horrifying because she tried to literally marry me during all that, so . . . I think just the twice, probably? But don't quote me on that, I don't even remember what I had for breakfast."

"And how is Kara being weird, exactly?" Tim says in his very unsubtle "assessing my teammate's psychological condition" voice.

"Oh, she's mostly just avoiding me?" Kon says, as a guy who's personally not really all that concerned with his psychological condition at the moment. "Because I've got the rock in my pocket on account of not wanting to just leave it lying around somewhere and she doesn't want to get affected by it. I don't know why, I don't really get why it matters."

"I mean it matters, definitely," Bernard says. "Like it very strongly matters to a lot of people."

"Fair, but I think we're all too invulnerable to really have to worry about getting gay-bashed or anything," Kon reasons. "Like, at least not as a heat of the moment thing."

". . . god can you imagine the world we would live in if every piece of shit gay-basher had to deal with the consequences of punching fucking Superman?" Bernard says feelingly. "For real."

"Oh, pink K's temporary," Kon clarifies. "Kal's not gay anymore."

"Hold up, I'm sorry, are you saying that at some point he was?" Bernard demands in obvious delight. "Is that what you're telling me right now?"

"I guess he was into redheads?" Kon says, tilting his head. "Slightly twinky redheads, specifically. Which I don't blame him for, I'm gonna be honest."

"Well now I know that forever, thanks," Tim says dryly.

"Alternate option: he could've been into Batman," Kon points out.

"Redheads it is," Tim says. "You just . . . redhead away over there."

"I mean I thought about it, kinda," Kon admits.

"Ngh," Tim says, for some reason.

"No thinking about Batman, though?" Bernard asks with a snicker.

"Not so much," Kon says, making a face. "Did consider having some Superman thoughts but I'm apparently not that narcissistic, surprisingly enough."

"Kon!" Kara chokes.

"Tell me you've never considered having Superman thoughts and I'll tell you you're a fucking liar," Kon snorts, shooting her a dry look. "Weren't you like totally naked when you first showed up on Earth? And then he found you like that and wrapped you up in his cape all nice and gentlemanly and took you home with him?"

"He is my baby cousin and you're being affected by pink kryptonite poisoning!" Kara accuses, her face bright red.

"Wait, is it actually poisoning me?" Kon says with a frown. "I feel like you should've led with it actually poisoning me, if that's actually a thing."

"Well no, not actually, it's physically harmless," Kara says grudgingly, folding her arms. "But you're still being affected! You're having Superman thoughts, of all things!"

"He just seems like he'd be considerate," Kon says reasonably. "Like, you know. Biblically."

"Ngh," Tim says, again for no apparent reason. Bernard sounds like he might be laughing. Or choking? Or maybe both; it's unclear.

"Please don't hit on Kal," Kara says. "Especially don't hit on Kal with pink kryptonite in your pocket. I don't want to know how that situation would end up."

"Ideally with him being considerate," Kon says. Tim chokes. Kara covers her face again.

"Does pink kryptonite affect your inhibitions too or are you just always like this?" Bernard asks curiously.

"Eh, pretty sure I'm just always like this, going by the things I've definitely still not been forgiven for saying to Power Girl," Kon says, idly tapping a finger against the side of his phone case. "Like, pretty damn sure at this point."

"That is unfortunately accurate," Tim agrees resignedly.

"So you're saying it is ethically okay to have Superboy over while he's gay," Bernard says in a promisingly speculative tone. Kon grins. Just a little, but yeah–definitely he grins. Kara grimaces, because she is absolutely no fun whatsoever.

Spoilsport.

"I did not in any way say that," Tim retorts dubiously.

"I mean that's what I heard, man, and I'm the one with super-hearing in this conversation," Kon says with a wider grin. "My inhibitions are all inhibited and my personal opinions of people are all the same, I'm just currently batting for the other team."

"So your normal opinion of me is that if you were gay, you'd come over," Tim says dryly.

"Yeah?" Kon says, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, obviously."

"How is that obvious?" Tim says.

"Because I already come over every time you let me," Kon reminds him.

"Oh yeah?" Bernard says slyly. "And how often does he let you come, exactly?"

"Not often enough," Kon replies honestly, and doesn't even bite at the obvious dumb sex joke Bernard so thoughtfully set up for him even though it is frankly painful not to.

"Ngh," Tim says. Kon continues not to understand the reason for him repeatedly making that same weird little noise, but whatever, he guesses. It's Tim, maybe he's stitching his own bullet wounds again or something. Guy's a multi-tasker like that.

"You know this would probably make for a fascinating case study about sexuality, actually," Bernard says musingly. "I mean, all I intend to do is abuse the situation to get into your very tight tights, but seriously, maybe we should all be taking notes or something."

"Ugh, hell no, Rob'll go full Bat if we let him do that," Kon snorts, then smirks. "He can take pictures, though, I know he's into that."

"Ngh," Tim says yet again, accompanied by a weird random "thump". If Kon didn't know better, he'd think he'd just fallen off a chair or something.

"Aw dammit, dude, I think I actually like you as a person now," Bernard says, sniggering. "Are you keeping the kryptonite? Please keep the kryptonite. Like, just for Valentine's and Tim's birthday, that's all I ask."

"Honestly don't know if Superman's gonna let me but I do kinda wanna," Kon admits. It seems pretty convenient, really. And definitely fun.

". . . and you're sure his inhibitions and opinions aren't being influenced in any way, Kara?" Tim asks suspiciously.

"He's really just like this, yeah," Kara says resignedly. "Well admittedly Kal spontaneously developed opinions on window treatments and used the word 'smashing' in cold blood when it happened to him, but that might've just been him sucking at flirting. Because he really does suck at flirting."

"What about when it was you?" Kon asks curiously.

"No one ever said it happened to me," Kara says.

"You kinda implied–"

"No one ever said it happened to me," Kara repeats, narrowing her eyes at him and doing an impressively bad job of acting like she's not blushing.

So it definitely happened to her, yeah.

"Okaaaaay, we'll pretend about that too then," Bernard says. "Well, what are your opinions on window treatments, Conner?"

"That I don't know what they are," Kon says.

"Sounds like he's in his right mind to me," Bernard says.

"He is absolutely not," Kara retorts dubiously.

"I really don't feel weird or anything, I swear," Kon tells her, since he still doesn't get the problem but also doesn't actually want to worry her either. "I don't even feel any different."

"Kon, you are hitting on your best friend and his boyfriend," Kara says. "Together. At once. Simultaneously, one might even say."

"You've met Wonder Girl and Arrowette before, right?" Kon says. "And both the Batgirls? And–"

"Oh my god, Kon," she cuts him off.

"Just saying," he says, then pauses for a moment and frowns consideringly. "Actually, question, how gay is this stuff making me, because while we're on the topic of threeways I kinda always wondered about what Starfire and Nightwing get up to together and if–"

"KON!" Kara yells, covering her ears.

"I'm just asking," he huffs.

"I don't know if it's actually possible to be gay enough to not be into Starfire," Bernard says musingly. "Like I can't imagine how it ever could be."

"Right?" Kon says.

"It's possible to not be into Starfire," Tim says. "Like, theoretically. Asexuals and aromantics both exist, for one."

"Do they?" Kon says doubtfully. "Like in general, sure, but when around specifically Starfire?"

". . . I can't technically prove you wrong due to a lack of reliable evidence but still," Tim says. "The possibility is there. If nothing else the multiverse is a thing."

"Last time I saw her she was wearing half a gold lamé bikini and I am not going to tell you which half or define how loosely I am using the term 'wearing'," Kon says.

"I said it's possible, not probable," Tim says.

"What about you, man, are you the gold lamé type?" Bernard asks with a teasing snicker. "Just while you're gay and all, of course. That's like, practically a cultural thing. Gotta be authentic to the experience, yeah?"

"That is in no way whatsoever a cultural thing, babe," Tim says dubiously.

"Please, like I've never worn freaking lamé," Kon scoffs. "I've worn collars and loincloths and leather and crop tops and enough unnecessary belts to tie up a Bat, lamé is nothing."

"Collars and . . . loincloths?" Bernard repeats, sounding confused.

"Yeah, this one time I crash-landed on a lost isle of beast-men and they kidnapped and enslaved me for a few months," Kon explains, waving a hand distractedly. "Frankly I count myself lucky they even let me have the collar, much less the loincloth."

". . . um," Bernard says.

"You, uh, never mentioned the collar part of that story before, Kon," Tim says, clearing his throat. "You very definitely never mentioned the collar part of that story before."

"Oh yeah, the prince kinda kept me as his pet for a little bit?" Kon tells him with an easy shrug. "Like he and all his buddies ganged up on me and then took me home with them, but I was kinda . . . feral, I guess? Technically? So like, collar and chain setup. But he was cool, he took real good care of me."

"Ngh," Tim says just barely faintly.

"Yeah you should definitely come over," Bernard says. "Tim, get the check. Conner, exactly how super is your super-speed?"

"You can just call me Kon," Kon says. "And . . . mach 3, last I clocked it?"

"Isn't that like two thousand miles per hour?" Bernard asks.

"Two thousand two hundred and twenty-three point three," Kon replies with a pleased smirk. "Faster than a speeding bullet. Or so they tell me."

"We'll just meet you at Tim's, how's that," Bernard says. "That work for you, Kon?"

"That works for me, Bernard," Kon confirms, smirking wider.

"Oh my god, Kon, you cannot possibly be serious right now," Kara says in exasperation, rubbing at her temples. "Just because you're temporarily gay doesn't mean you should do anything about it!"

"I mean, I'm feeling pretty serious?" Kon says, shrugging again. He still doesn't get why she's being so sensitive about this. "It's not like this is the weirdest thing I've ever done in pursuit of a good time. Like, holy hell, lemme tell you about the Ravers sometime."

"You're going to have to look Robin in the eye after this!" Kara says. "And work with him! And be a normal person in his presence! Normally!"

"I'm aware?" Kon says, vaguely bemused by her concern. Like he's never been normal around somebody he's slept with before, geez. "Tell Kal I ran off with the pink K, if he wants to lock it up in the Fortress or wherever I can bring it back tomorrow."

"Maybe Monday," Bernard says.

"Or maybe Monday," Kon amends.

"It's Thursday!" Kara sputters.

"So it's a long weekend," Bernard says.

"I'm not explaining this to Kal," Kara says. "I'm not explaining this to Batman."

"I really don't see why you'd have to," Kon says. "Rob, you cool with the long weekend thing? Not too much of an imposition?"

". . . I got the check," Tim mutters in obvious and absolute mortification.

Kon's gonna take that as a "yes".

"Cool," he says, grinning broadly. "See you soon, Boy Wonder."

He ends the call. Kara drags her hands down her face and continues to stay very far away from him and the pink kryptonite in his pocket.

"When you go back to normal and freak out and make everything weird with Robin and your team and even Robin's literal boyfriend, I'm going to say so many 'I told you so's," she swears vehemently. "So don't say I didn't warn you."

"Your objection is on the record," Kon says, then tosses her a lazy salute with another grin and takes off, kryptonite and all.

Best to just scarper while Clark's distracted, yeah?

Definitely best.

#kon el #tim drake #bernard dowd #timberkon #timkon #timber #superboy #dc robin #rinfic #wip: think pink

2K notes · View notes

xxchumanixx · 8 months ago

Note

Helloooo

could you write a Tim Bradford X rookie!reader, when they meet for the first time in a bar and have a one night stand (with smut if you feel like it) and then in the morning they both have to go to work, and it turns out she is his rookie ??

and from there, he really tries to be hard on her but he can’t because he is scared to hurt her feelings ?? Even if she is kinda of a badass, so every time he is hard on her she is not afraid to talk back, and teases him for sure (dirty jokes about their one night stand).

Doomed

Tim Bradford x fem!rookie!reader

Warnings/Tags: smut, 18+ mdni!, p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), oral (fem and male receiving), slight dirty talk, fluff

Word count: 3.477

Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I really like the idea and it was very fun to write!

Maybe, just maybe, gonna make a series out if this.

Enjoy!

Sitting at a bar, drinking before your gonna start working for the police the next morning, maybe wasn't the best idea.

But you were nervous (even if you'd never admit that out loud), and a drink paired with foreign faces seemed to be a good way to relax.

Sitting at the bar with a martini in front of you, you played with the bowl of peanuts, occasionally picking one and eating it.

Contemplating if you should ask for more, someone sat beside you. From your first glance you could tell he was handsome - a little older than you, but you didn't mind that.

He must have caught you looking, cause after he ordered a beer his gaze fell on you.

"Hi." he greeted you, a small smile gracing his lips that looked more than kissable. "Hey." you gave back, smiling as well, as his gaze fell to the bowl.

"Hungry?" he wanted to know, chuckling lightly. "Oh!" you made, chuckling as well. "No, I just played with the bowl and somehow ended up eating all the peanuts that were left."

He chuckled again, as he held out his hand to you. "Tim." he introduced himself. "Y/N." you gave back, shaking his hand. It was big and warm, his long fingers brushing over yours as you let go.

"Nice to meet you." he said, gesturing to your drink. "Want another one?" Your gaze followed his to your almost empty martini. "Sure, that would be nice." you gave back, smiling.

His hand rose, gathering the barkeepers attention. "Another martini for the lady, please." he ordered, to which the barkeeper nodded, starting to mix your drink.

"Thank you." you told him, head resting on your hand as you looked up at him. He nodded, smiling.

"What brought you here tonight?" he asked, elbow resting on the bar with his body turned towards you.

"I start my new job in the morning and I was a little nervous about it." you explained. "Thought a drink and foreign faces would help." His head tilted, looking at you in interest. "What job?"

Swallowing you decided to lie. He didn't need to know that you were to start as a cop.

"I'm at a marketing company as a media designer." you explained, proud of your little lie. He nodded, smiling. "Sounds great."

The evening went on with you two talking and drinking, and before you knew it it became a little more.

"What do you say...." he started, biting his lip, averting your attention for a second. "If we go to my place." Heat rushed through you, a smile stretching your lips. "I like that idea."

He smirked, before he payed for your drinks. Then you both walked out and to his car. Climbing inside the truck you felt giddy, knowing exactly what was about to come - that was if he wasn't a serial killer.

The drive felt like it was sparkling with electricity, an atmosphere so thick you could have cut it with a knife.

When you reached his house he parked, before you got out, following him to the front door. Your fingers trembled in anticipation, as he opened the door, before heading inside.

Once the door was closed, his lips were on yours.

They really were kissable.

It was all tongue and teeth, his hands gripping your waist, tugging you closer. The bulge in his pants pressed against your belly, and you bit your lip as his brushed down your neck.

Breathing heavily, you pushed his shirt up, tugging it over his head and discarding of it on the floor.

His hands did the same with your tight dress, pushing it up to your hips, his hands grabbing your ass as his lips found their way back to yours.

Moaning you buckled into him, his hands pressing you against him. Then his kisses went down further, over the bit of cleavage that was exposed by your dress, one of his hands kneading your breast through the thin bra you wore underneath.

Biting your lip you held back a moan, causing him to look up at you again. "Don't hold it back." he told you. "I wanna hear it."

Another wave of heat rushed through you, and you did as you were told, his words turning you on even more, as you moaned, cheeks flushed.

He kneeled down, lips ghosting over your stomach, before he pushed the dress up further, bunching it up just above your belly.

Breathing heavily you followed him with your eyes, gasping as he looked up, his fingers ghosting over your clothed cunt.

"So wet already." he mumbled, and your cheeks flushed harder. He kissed it, before his fingers hooked under the waistband of your lace panties, tugging them down your legs.

Biting your lip you stepped out of them, before his hands guided you back to him.

Placing one of your legs on his shoulder, you gasped, as his breath fanned over your heat. Steadying yourself your hands found their way into his hair.

As his tongue licked a stripe up your cunt, you moaned loudly. One of his hands gripped your ass, pressing you against him as his mouth began to devour you.

His tongue flicked over your clit, sucking it into his mouth, causing you to see stars as you tugged at his short hair.

Releasing your clit with a wet pop, his tongue found your entrance, pushing inside. You were a moaning mess under him, melting away like butter in the sun.

His thumb drew figure eights on your bundle of nerves, the dress sliding back down a little, but neither of you cared really, as his tongue continued its assault on you.

"Fuck." you breathed, looking down at him with hooded eyes. Meeting his gaze your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as you rode his face.

His thumb left your clit, one of his fingers slowly pushing inside you. You gasped, clenching around it as the knot in your belly tightened more and more.

He began fingering you, fast. As his tongue flicked over your clit, almost matching the speed of his finger, he added a second one.

It made filthy sounds as he licked and fingered you just behind his front door, the thought making you moan again. He was relentless on you, making you whimper, as he lightly bit down, the pain shooting pleasure down to your toes.

Screaming his name you came on his tongue, the knot in your belly exploding so suddenly it stole your breath; riding out your high on him as he took everything you gave him.

Gasping for air you slowly came down, letting go of his hair, as he set your leg back down. He stood back up, chuckling at your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing.

Kissing down your neck he gave you a moment to calm down, before he sucked at your sweet spot, making you moan again.

It felt like he knew your body without even having touched it before.

Kissing you, he guided you backwards, not stopping until you hit the bedroom door, fumbling for the doorknob.

Opening the door he walked you backwards to his bed, until your legs came in contact with it. He turned you around, opening the dress, before sliding it down your body.

His fingers followed your curves, making you shiver in delight, before he opened your bra, discarding of it on the floor as well. Turning back around he pushed you onto the mattress, getting rid of your shoes, before he unbuttoned his pants.

Sliding them down followed by his briefs his cock sprung free, making your mouth water at the sight.

You slid off the bed and down on your knees, looking up at him.

His mouth was slightly agape as he stared down at you, fingers brushing through your already disheveled hair.

Smiling you took his cock in one hand, pumping it a few times. He groaned, eyes closing for a moment as his head tilted backwards.

Chuckling, your tongue licked from bottom to head, his hand gripping your hair almost painfully at the sensation.

Your tongue circled his sensitive head a few times, brushing through the slit, eliciting a moan from him.

Slowly, you took him into your mouth, pressing your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, as your head bobbed up and down, hollowing your cheeks.

He hissed, as his hand started to guide your moves. Saliva dribbled down your chin, but you didn't care. He pushed deeper, making you gag and he groaned, doing it again as he looked down at you.

Tears stung in your eyes, your free hand rubbing your clit. Moaning around his shaft he moaned as well, fucking your mouth.

When he suddenly tugged your head back, his cock popping out of your mouth, he helped you back onto the bed.

"I wanna come inside you." Biting your lip at the thought, you slid up on the bed, him following, after putting on a condom. Lying on top of you again, he kissed you, tongue meeting yours.

His hands roamed your body, body's pressed together. He pumped himself a few times, looking in your eyes as he waited for permission.

Nodding you gave him your okay.

Slowly, he inched forward, stretching you deliciously. Your fingers dug into his shoulder blades, as you watched him go deeper and deeper.

When he was fully inside you he waited a moment, before he slowly moved back out, only to ramm back inside you.

Moaning loudly your head tilted backwards, exposing your neck. Kissing down your throat, he started to fuck you.

You fell into a steady rhythm, getting deeper with each thrust. "Fuck, your so tight." he mumbled and you clenched down on him, making him hiss in return.

His lips found yours again, his fingers brushing over your clit causing you to buckle into him. Chuckling, his thumb drew figure eights on it, eliciting even more moans from you.

You were puddy under him, a moaning mess ready to shatter at his hands.

Your legs wrapped around his middle, taking him even deeper, as he gained speed. Breathing out his name, you tried to warn him of your impending high.

Smirking, he looked down at you, as he drove you towards the edge. "Come for me, baby." he whispered into your ear, and so you did.

Falling of the edge you screamed his name, back arching off the mattress. Clenching around him, pure bliss pulsed through you, blinding you momentarily.

He followed closely, as your clenching did the rest, moaning your name. Riding you through your highs, his lips brushed your pulse point, before he stilled.

Breathing heavily he pulled out, causing you to whimper at the emptiness.

Chuckling he lay down beside you, catching his breath as you did the same.

It was silent for a while, in which he discarded of the condom, before you swallowed, looking at your watch. "Fuck!" you breathed out, causing him to look back at you, brows furrowed.

"I have to get home, otherwise I won't be able to make it to work in time tomorrow." you explained, sending him a crooked smile.

Nodding, seeming a little disappointed though, he sat up. "Yeah, I totally get that." he spoke, standing up and starting to collect your things. You did the same, only then realizing that your panties were somewhere at his front door.

Blushing, you dressed, as he did the same, before he awkwardly walked you to the door, where you picked up your ruined panties.

Huffing a laugh you shook your head, bunching the fabric in your fist. "Uhm, I don't know how to get home." you told him, cheeks reddening even more.

"Right." he nodded, searching for his keys. "I'll drive you." Eyes widening, you looked at him. "Oh, you don't have to do that!" you said, but he shook his head. "I insist on it."

Smiling gratefully you nodded. "Okay, thank you."

The drive to your apartment was a little awkward, but you decided to make the best of it.

"I mean, now that you know where I live, maybe you want to come over sometime?" you offered, biting your lip. "For a round two, you know?"

He chuckled, smiling. "Yeah, maybe."

When you arrived, he made sure you got in safely, before saying goodbye and parting ways.

You hoped he would eventually take you up on your offer. The sex you had only minutes ago, was the best you had in a long time.

When the alarm went off the next morning, you felt like you'd been run over by a bus.

You hadn't slept that much, given the time you were home and lay awake, but you had no other choice than to get up, shower, brush your teeth and get ready.

Driving towards the LAPD your fingers nervously drummed on the steering wheel. It was your first day and you didn't know who'd be your TO for the next year.

Would he or she be nice? Or would you get one of those that liked to make their rookies suffer?

Getting inside you made your way to the locker room, changing into your uniform, before walking into the conference room, where the others were already waiting.

Brushing over your neatly done hair, your gaze wandered over the already seated officers, before it abruptly stopped.

There, between two women, sat Tim.

Your one night stand Tim.

Eyes widening you pleaded for him not to turn in your direction, but he did exactly that, like he heard your silent prayer.

His eyes widened as his gaze fell on you, mouth agape.

Cheeks reddening, trying to catch your breath you walked toward the seats in the front row, sitting down.

This couldn't be happening.

Before you could have thought more about it, the watch commander, Sergeant Grey, entered the room.

The other rookies stood up front and you did the same, trying to forget Tim for a moment.

"We got some new blood this morning." Sergeant Grey started, hands on his waist. "After six months together in the academy, you've earned the right to be here, but you'll have to prove yourself to stay. The way we do things matters. Protocol and tradition are the metal, from which every cop in this city is forged."

As he talked, you tried your best not to let your gaze wander towards Tim. His eyes seemed to burn holes into your skin, as you tried to concentrate on Sergeant Grey.

"Understand?" he wanted to know. "Yes, sir." you all gave back. "Sit down." he then told you. You did as you were told, breathing in deeply.

"It's time for playing the officer match game." Grey continued, reading on a paper. "Our contestants are Alec Miller, Y/N Y/L/N and Richard Stevens. And the winners are: Officer Harper, you get Alec Miller. Officer Lopez, you get Richard Stevens. And Officer Bradford, you get Y/N Y/L/N, who's looking like she just saw a ghost."

Laughter erupted, as your gaze fell on Tim. His teeth grit and you got the feeling, that he was Officer Bradford.

"Now hear me: Today is your first day, don't let it be your last." Grey explained, causing your gaze to snap back to him. "Forget the academy, listen to your TO's. They'll teach you the way it should be done. That's it."

You flinched, as his hands made contact with the pult rather loudly.

Again, this couldn't be happening.

Trying to calm your racing heart down, you stood, bracing yourself for meeting your TO.

"Hello boot, I'm Officer Tim Bradford." he introduced himself like you'd never met before, as he stood in front of you. "Nice to meet you, sir." you played along, doing your best not to look away.

He nodded, motioning for you to follow him.

As he told you the basics, like your task to get the bags and stuff, your mind drifted off briefly. He must have noticed, because he stopped talking, his eyes narrowing at you.

"Did you even listen to what I told you the last few minutes?" he wanted to know, his tone cold and harsh. Flinching you nodded. "I did, sir."

Praying for him not to test you about what he explained to you (you probably wouldn't have passed that test), you entered the shop.

He was driving, telling you a few things you had to keep in mind when sitting in the shop. "This is you work place." he told you. Nodding, you buckled up, suppressing a sigh.

This would surely get awkward.

Leaving the garage it grew silent, as he drove and you looked out the window, not sure what to say.

If you were even supposed to say something in the first place.

"You left something in my car." he suddenly broke the silence, not looking at you, though. Racking your brain you tried to remember what he meant, as he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Your, uh, your panties." he then said, and you swore his cheeks turned pinkish.

Eyes widening you gasped, not having noticed that your panties were even missing.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." you told him, cheeks growing hot. This only made the situation ten times more awkward.

He nodded slightly, swallowing, but didn't say any more.

It crackled, as the radio turned on. "Adam-7-19, we have a 10-67 at Burlington Street." It fell silent again, as Tim grabbed the mic. "Adam-7-19, taking over. Code four." he gave through, changing course.

"Suspicious person." you mumbled to yourself, but he heard you. "Person calling for help." he corrected you harshly. "10-66 is suspicious person. You need to know the codes so you'll be ready when you arrive!"

Brows furrowing you looked at him. "You can't expect me to know every single code already." you gave back, not caring that he was your TO.

He slammed the break - luckily you were on an empty street as your body jerked forward, only being held back by the seat belt.

"What did you just say?" he wanted to know, turning towards you in his seat. "I'm your TO and I rate you every single day. If you don't know the codes correctly, you need to learn them. If you don't know them by next week, you're out."

Mouth agape you stared at him in shock.

He was one of those TO's, that let their rookies suffer.

"Wow." you breathed out, leaning back against the window. "Wouldn't have expected you to be such an asshole, after last night."

You shouldn't have said that.

You really shouldn't.

His hands balled into fists, teeth gritted. You saw that he wanted to say something, but he stayed silent as his eyes bored holes into yours.

Suddenly he sat back in his seat, starting to drive again.

Cocking a brow you shook your head. Sure, he was your TO, but did he really have to treat you like that?

"Can I ask you a question?" you wanted to know, looking at him as he drove. He simply nodded, motioning for you to go ahead.

"Are you like this with all your rookies?" you wanted to know, elbow resting on the door. "Like what?" he gave back, brows furrowing. "Shall I really repeat myself?" you retorted, cocking a brow at him.

Huffing, he shook his head.

"I treat a rookie based on his needs." he explained. "Wow, last night I was tight, now I'm dumb." you concluded, shaking your head.

His gaze snapped to yours briefly, before it fixed on the street again. "I'm sorry, what?" he wanted to know, sounding almost angry.

Your brows rose, as you bit your lip.

Yeah, definitely shouldn't have said that either.

"Nothing, forget it." you mumbled, fumbling with your belt.

It grew quiet, as you noticed that you might have gone overboard. It was your first day and he had the power to make it your last.

"What happened last night won't repeat." he clarified, not looking at you. Swallowing, you nodded.

Of course it wouldn't. You were his rookie now, after all.

Or boot, like he had called you earlier.

"I would be glad if we could just forget that it happened." he told you. Taking a deep breath you huffed. "Will be hard to find a comparison, though." you spoke without thinking,

Covering your face with your hands, you wanted to apologize for your inability to keep your mouth shut, but he was faster. "Yeah, I know." he mumbled, biting his cheek.

Your brows shot high at his words, biting your lip.

Damn it, he was smoking hot, your one night stand and now he was your trainer as well. Not thinking about the sex you had last night would be hard.

Speaking off, you felt how your cheeks grew hot.

God damn it.

You were doomed.

-> Part two

#the rookie #the rookie imagine #the rookie x reader #tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #the rookie x u #tim bradford imagine #smut #tim bradford smut

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snakeredbirdbatkatana · 2 months ago

Text

It was another competion the entire family all shoving and pushing each other into the car to see more of Damian's art.

Tim is excited for Damian.

He knows what it's like, to stand there and have no one show up. To be there all by yourself for hours the only one to visit your booth being the art teacher.

Ms. Carrington who would ask questions and ignore the tears that pooled in his eyes before helping him pack everything up, sometimes even driving him home because of course neither his parents or Bruce could be bothered to pick him up.

He can't really help the envy that he can feel building in his chest mixing with a good chunk of repressed anger.

A elbow being jabbed into his ribs distracts him.

"Hey what's with the face? Perk up Boy-Loser it's Damian's night."

He turns to Steph the smile that he had been attempting to plaster on falling. It's such a stupid thing it's a nickname so what if it's demeaning, he gets called pretender or replacement by Jason what does it matter.

"Do you ever think it's kinda fucked up that not a single person in this family calls me anything that isn't an insult?" He snaps.

She looks shocked. How fucking dare he have an ounce of self esteem. Someone alert the Media Tim Drake isn't a dormat.

He turns away sliding into the crowd.

There's less then half an hour left before he can leave. Pratically throwing himself down in the empty hallway as far as he can get from this entire night.

"Baby bird and Timmy aren't insults? Or are they I can't seem to keep up with the kids these days."

He turns, of course. You might be able to run from Batman or lie to him, but you can never escape the grasp of Big Brother Nightwing.

"So your admitting that your old?" he joins the banter.

His muscles start to unclench another superpower only Dick Grayson seems to have.

"Never, something you want to talk about?"

Does he? No. Should he? Yah.

"Maybe I just don't want be insulted every day of my life. So weird who doesn't want to be reminded they suck?"

He can hear the whine, he can also hear that everything he just said isn't gonna matter. You don't take whiny little boys seriously. And that's what he is.

"Hmm you know I get called Dickhead or really a lot of just penis related jokes. Always hated them not that it really stops anyone."

He looks finally making eye contact with his big brother. Because he's right. How many times has he heard anyone in the family other than him and Damian call Dick anything nice. Never not once. Maybe Bruce but he can't really picture it.

"Also don't think I didn't notice how annoyed you are with Bruce about this entire night, which I don't blame you for. You know I love Damian kiddo, but yah Bruce is not winning a mug from me or you."

He doesn't really want to acknowledge any of that already exhausted and he will have to apologize to Steph and if he opens the box it will be a car ride from hell home.

"Luckily for you I have a car parked a block up we can escape get ice cream and have a nice sleepover in bludhaven."

He wants to so bad, he wants to throw himself at Dick who knows him so well, who followed him out here, who isn't blinking, the only adult who has ever not somehow fucked him over.

"What about Damian? He will be pissed at me for stealing you or something. He doesn't need another reason to stab me."

He turns to look back at the floor.

"Foolish Drake I will be coming with you Father is being insesently annoying and I much rather talk about art with someone who has a brain cell."

Both him and Dick whip around to see Damian standing there a slight blush on his face hesitation making the corner of mouth twitch. He sees Dick looking on unsure. He doesn't hesitate.

"Thank god I know a great place with that Vegan Cookie Dough you like. What you waiting for Big Bird? Let's go. "

Climbling to his feet he grabs Dick and Damian dragging them to the exit he hears Dick's confused muttering sharing a secret smile with Damian before ignoring it.

The night is finally looking up.

#Tim Dick and Damian are the best trio argue with the wall #Don't picture Damian who saw his favorite people leave and immediately was ready to book it also don't imagine Damian listening #working up the courage to try and go with them #but do imagine the other batfamily members looking very confused when they are all gone #tim drake #dick grayson #batfamily #jason todd #bruce wayne #damian wayne #I used Stephanie because in the comics she calls Tim like a lot of kinda iffy nicknames she is usually joking but I wanted to make a point #batfam #batman #dc

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wondersinwaynemanor · 10 months ago

Text

that time when Jason and Damian worked together in "spoiling" Tim to make up for the "murder attempts" they did to their sleep-deprived brother.

Tim wakes up from his room: What the fu- I don't remember how I got here.

Tim sees Jason and Damian casually reading by the corner of his room.

Tim: What are you two doing in my room???

Damian: Drake's up. Told you he's alive.

Jason: Oh, thank fuck. I thought you died.

Tim: What are you guys...

Tim recalls a few events from last night.

Tim: What did you put in my coffee, Jason????

Jason: Not my formula. It's the brat's.

Damian crosses his arms, looking like a mini Bruce: I believe we deserve a thank you, Drake. Tt.

Tim: A thank you for drugging me???

Jason: You aren't sleeping, Timmy. And you're just as stubborn like the rest of this family, so it was the best option.

Damian: Agreed.

Tim groans: I knew I had a bad feeling. No one is fucking touching my coffee ever again!!!

as soon as Tim stands up from the bed, both Jason and Damian immediately goes to either side of him, holding both of his arms.

Tim: Um... What are you guys doing?

Jason: Making sure you're alright.

Damian: We're merely guiding you.

Tim: Guiding me to the bathroom? I don't recall getting injured from last night. Unless you also added a another formula for that.

Jason opens the door of the bathroom while Damian's tiny arm is around Tim's waist.

by the time Tim is done freshening up for the morning, Damian is still in his room.

Tim: Dami, honestly, what's going on-

Damian: It's the hour for breakfast, Drake. Come now.

Tim: But I'm not hungry-

Damian: No buts. *he goes behind Tim and pushes him towards the door*

Damian is pulling Tim's arm until they arrive at the kitchen.

Jason is wearing an apron and putting food on the table.

Tim smiles: Jay, you're cooking for everyone? That's actually nice of you.

Jason: For everyone? Nah, only for you, Timbers.

Damian: Sit, Drake. *he pats the seat beside the one he's sitting on*

Tim complies: So, when am I going to hear the joke? Dick, come out now! We get it, we're bonding. Bruce, you on this too? I know this is what you want!

Jason and Damian look at each other.

Jason: What the fuck are you talking about, Tim?

Damian: Don't be silly, Drake. Now let's eat.

Tim starts to eat: You should know you are both creeping me out. But this is great. Thank you, Jay.

Jason shrugs as he's eating too: It's nothing.

Dick and Bruce peer from the entrance of the kitchen.

Dick has a wide smile on his face: I didn't think they were gonna go through with this. Although, the sleeping antidote...

Bruce: Was over the top.

Dick: I mean, Timmy isn't good at the sleeping category, B. So, how long do you think they're gonna do this?

Bruce smiles lightly: They're both full of determination. It's hard knowing.

Later at night before patrol.

Tim screams from the changing rooms: JAY!!! DAMI!! I CAN'T CHANGE WITH YOU GUYS AROUND!!! ENOUGH OF THIS!!!

Nightwing and Batman already on their suits by the batcomputer.

Batman: You lost, Chum.

Nightwing: Aw man. Guess I underestimated my brothers. But I do admit, it's nice seeing them working it out.

Batman smiles lightly: It is.

and good luck to the criminals who would come across Red Robin tonight, thinking they can hurt him cus Red Hood and Robin are going to beat the shit out of them. together.

#this was so fun to write???#just silly fun between brothers it's normal #dc incorrect quotes #incorrect dc quotes #batfamily incorrect quotes #incorrect batfamily quotes #batfamily #batdad #batbros #big brother jason todd #small brother damian wayne #give tim some break pls??#batman #tim drake #jason todd #damian wayne #dick grayson #bruce wayne #dc universe

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honey-milk-depresso · 10 months ago

Note

hello love, i adore your work.

could i get something with the batboys with a spider woman reader?

💜💜

I’m making them spiderperson cuz gotta stay GN for everyone to self insert themselves 🩷

BUT YEAHHDHWIAHFOAJDKSJX MORE BATFAM REQUESTS >:)))

Requests open until 1 Feb (GMT 8+)! Please read the rules on my pinned post (provided the navi post link to go to rules). Thank you!🩷🩷

***S/o is above 18, which means characters below are also aged up!

Batbros with a Spider-S/o

Dick Grayson

He loves you! You manoeuvre in the air and swing about just like him! Just that you got webs, cool!

Definitely joins you in hanging upside down, also loving to compete with you (lovingly) to see who can jump the farthest, or who can do the most bomb-tastic somersault with you and you guys have so much fun during patrol it’s not even patrol anymore.

Beating bad guys in the most dramatic, acrobatic way possible is definitely something Bruce and the rest of the brothers all sigh collectively because you two can be pretty chaotic.

But whatever, you two have so much fun jumping around.

Has taken you out on dates as Nightwing and your spider-sona, because even people around the city thinks you two are a match made in heaven. I imagined a pizza guy giving them a box and saying for them to have fun while swinging around with Dick and having pizza in between your teeth while you race to see who can reach the far end of a street whilst swinging and stunting about.

Overall, you two make a loveable couple of acrobats. <3

Jason Todd

He thought you were annoying at first, but even he can’t deny you make his day (most of the time).

He feels a bit irritated yet amused whenever you hang upside down and playfully greet him or joke with him while on patrol, sometimes in secret which scares the shit out of him when you pop out of no where and he starts cussing before letting out a long, exasperated sigh when he looks at you laughing to yourself. Damn spider…

But even so, he can’t help but dote on you, even if you can be an annoying ball of energy sometimes. He just can’t help but let you jump around him with your spiderwebs all over the house when you try to take something from afar, using the webs to pull it towards you. Although… you are a bit bashful and guilty for keeping his tidy room messy with webs everywhere that you help clean up which he appreciates.

On patrols, you’re usually faster than him and sometimes he complains so you just shut him up by scooping him in his arms and holding him by the waist with one hand before web-slinging your way to the location where the criminal gang is as he huffed. From afar at times, it looks like a grown ass man being baby carried or held like a big dog by some spider person across the high buildings, which he gets a little flustered over.

Regardless, Jason still loves you. Just don’t shoot the webs everywhere- <3

Tim Drake

He’s fascinated by you, how your webs work and how you can stick on walls with just your fingertips.

Tim might ask a lot of questions about your anatomy and what your spider body can do which sometimes annoy you but he’s just so curious he can’t help it. Genuinely.

Another one who you scare the shit out of with you surprising him by hanging upside down and popping your head down to face his out of no where, but he’s not like Jason who reacts very… dramatically, he’ll just recover from shock to contort into a pout and maybe gently flick your forehead to tell you to knock it off, although he knows you won’t.

Might be a sap for that upside down kiss where you kiss him upside down and all because of course he would be-

Tim loves asking you to use your web fluid for practically everything now. “Hey, s/o? Could you use your web fluid to stick this circuit board in here?” “S/o could you grab the remote with your web? Pleaseeeee?” “S/o, I kinda need your web fluid to close up the hole in my pants-” sometimes you gotta tell him that’s not gonna work sometimes, and those pants will look weird if you do that-

Overall, Tim loves his whacky, loveable spider s/o. <3

Damian Wayne

Also like Jason, he found you annoying. But this guy is hard in denial before he admits he even likes you.

Damian, at first, keep scowling at how annoying you can be with your web-slinging for fun and not for patrol, and getting web strings all over his suit after patrol from an intense fight against the criminal gang you two were assigned to take down. Now, he still scowls but with a blush and his heart skipping a beat because he can’t deny how cute you are even if you’re an annoying lil shi- (or maybe you ain’t little but you get the point).

Damian will tolerate you swinging about, although he isn’t scared when you hang upside down to spook him a bit because you literally can’t, his god-like sense of instincts would immediately pick up on you without even needing to turn to face you. Sometimes you joke with him that he has spidey-senses to which he rolls his eyes casually.

He won’t say it out loud, but he thinks you’re a pretty impressive fighter and you kinda remind him of Dick but you’re still unique. He just make sure your web fluids don’t go all over the place that you make a mess of the evidence for the police.

Overall, a tsundere for his spider s/o. <3

Reblogs help! ^^

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mangoisms · 1 year ago

Text

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter one: on my way to circle k

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.3k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

The Slurpee machine is broken again.

It isn’t that big of an issue, not particularly world-ending, no, especially since you get regularly held at gunpoint (or knifepoint) and occasionally used as a hostage.

But for you, working the night shift from eleven PM to seven AM, you kind of need the sugar boost. The Slurpees are easier on your stomach than the coffee is. Even if they do stain your mouth.

You sigh, continuing to stare at the machine; it whirs and sputters strangely and you set aside the cup to shut it off. You’ll also need to file the paperwork for it to be fixed. That seriously blows.

You get it unplugged just as the gust of wind hits.

You stumble. Shelves groan in protest. Several rows of granola bars and trail mix are sent flying.

Oh, great, who is it now—

You hear your name in a question, from a very familiar voice.

You spit out a mouthful of your hair. “Flash?”

Sure enough, in the flesh, the Flash grins at you, blue lightning fading from his body. He spreads his arms as he exclaims your name again.

In a blink, he is there, arms wrapping around you, lifting you off the ground as he squeezes the life out of you. Another blink and you’re on the ground, looking at him, his hand on your shoulder.

“Look at you, kid. It’s good to see you. I can’t believe you’re still working here.”

A stupid grin forms on your lips. “It’s not the same here without you eating up our inventory.”

He laughs. “I bet!”

You shake your head, fixing your hair and your shirt. Flash notices the state of the granola bars and trail mix, sends you an apologetic smile, and in the next blink, they are back on the shelves, neatly arranged.

“So, what brings you here? If you can answer that.”

He waves a hand, flitting around, emptying the sausage grill and making himself several hot dogs.

“One of the rogues got a little, shall we say, ambitious and wanted to try his luck here. Just trying to snatch him up before Batman finds out.”

“Let me guess—Trickster?”

He points a hot dog loaded with mustard and ketchup at you. “Bingo.”

“It’s dripping.”

“Aw, shit.” He shoves the rest of the hot dog in his mouth, grabs a napkin, and starts dabbing at the spot of mustard on his suit.

You watch him, amused, but also morbidly fascinated as usual at seeing him eat so much. When he finishes the hot dogs, he goes for the pizza. It makes sense when you think about it, that a guy who can run faster than the speed of light should need to eat so much, but it’s been a while since you’ve had the pleasure of watching him refuel. Six months, actually, since you returned from Keystone City.

You scratch your head. “I’m not sure why Trickster would want to come here. Batman, I think, is a worse punishment than you—”

“Agree, even if that’s also a little insulting to me.”

“Oh, you know what I mean. You’re avoiding him, aren’t you?”

Flash nods. “This is true. Carry on.”

“Well… Gotham already has a joke-themed guy. I don’t think Joker is going to take too kindly to someone encroaching on that. Unless he’s back in Arkham. Though he might’ve escaped again…”

“Y’see, that’s what I thought. It’s gonna sound bad, too, but I’m kinda hoping those two take care of each other, then I can get Trickster back to Iron Heights without any issues. But—”

You crack a smile, guessing his next words immediately. “When is it ever that easy?”

You had once believed the Flash to be just about infallible. After all, he is the Flash. This is the guy who, like you said, can run faster than the speed of light. He can canvas a city in under a minute. That’s how he takes care of Central City and Keystone City. (Well, the addition of the other Flash and Kid Flash probably help, too, but you know.)

But it’s not that easy. It’s why, you think, Metropolis has issues, even when they have Superman.

No rest for the wicked and all.

“Well, it’s still good to see you,” you say, a tad more hesitantly this time. Unsure if you can say that.

Flash looks back at you, sending you a warm smile. “It’s good to see you, too. How’s school?”

“No classes now. Financial aid doesn’t cover the summer, so.”

He frowns. “You’re still on track to graduate next year, though, right?”

You pause, surprised he remembered you saying that. “Yeah, yeah, I am.”

Flash nods, worries assuaged, then his gaze strays to the Slurpee machine, its lights turned off. “Aw, it’s not working?”

“Not today, sorry.”

He purses his lips, head tilting as he looks at the counter where the machine and your abandoned cup are.

“Wait a second,” he says, then the food that was in his hands is on the counter and he’s gone with arcs of blue lightning following him, a tingly feeling spreading through your fingertips and toes, like when you used to be a kid and dragged your hands across those old TV screens, feeling the static.

True to his word, in the next second, he is in front of you, two Slurpees in hand. One blue raspberry and another cherry.

You grin as he proudly presents the blue raspberry Slurpee to you.

“Thanks.”

He winks. “My pleasure.”

He collects his food again then gestures to the front with his head. Sipping at the ice-cold Slurpee, you follow him, sliding behind the counter.

“Time to head off?” you guess, ringing up the food he already ate, then the rest of the stuff.

He slips out a few bills from a hidden pocket at his hip. “Yeah, I need to go before—”

“Flash!” The door opens roughly. You balk as you see who it is. “Seriously? You can’t just run off. You’re just as bad as Impulse sometimes, I swear.”

Red Robin stands there, hands on his hips, scowling, doing a good impression of a teacher scolding a student, which is really weird for you, since you’ve always held a good dose of fear and respect for the Bats and this doesn’t really… go on par with that. And also, you’re pretty sure Flash is older than him.

Flash frowns. “Now that’s seriously uncalled for. I’m much better than he is. We were done talking, weren’t we? You’d call me if you found anything and it’s not like it would take me time to get there, would it?”

Red Robin doesn’t respond to that, mostly because he’s looking at you now. You’ve never seen him up close — any of them up close. Black fair falls sharply over his forehead, a black domino mask hiding his eyes. Not like a normal one; this one allows for more coverage under his eyes, going down to his nose, the end of which curves in a way reminiscent of a bird. But under the bright fluorescents of Circle K, everything else is easy to make out. Pale skin, a sharp jaw, a soft-looking mouth.

Great. He’s hot. And something else… something that niggles at you. Familiar in a way that bothers you because you’ve never seen him in person. Not like this.

You swallow nervously, giving him a half-hearted wave. The action jars him and he looks away from you quickly.

“Hey, don’t be mean to her,” Flash chides. “Seriously. Look at her. You’ve made her nervous.”

“Flash.”

He shoots you a troublesome grin. “Nah, don’t worry about him, kid. He’s harmless.”

“Flash,” Red Robin hisses out, his voice sounding stranger than before, modulated, in a way.

You compose yourself, giving Flash a look. “You know better than that. Perception means everything.”

“That is true,” he says. “But believe me. If fear worked as well as they’d like it to, Gotham would be the safest city in the country.”

A long-suffering sigh. Red Robin is turned away now and by the movement of his arm, pinching the bridge of his nose, exasperated.

“Hey, I’m not wrong,” he says to him, even despite you silently waving for him to drop it. “Look, fear is fine and all. But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with nurturing relationships with the people you protect. That’s what I did with you, isn’t it, kid?”

“Yeah, but I’m also not, you know, from there…”

He collects his change. “Which is why it’s even more embarrassing that these guys make you nervous and I don’t.”

Red Robin huffs.

Flash shrugs, smirking. “Just food for thought. I’ll see you around, yeah, kiddo? Gotta get going before this guy gets annoyed enough to just tell Batman about me and then I’ll really have problems.”

Then he’s gone, blue lightning arcing in his wake. Red Robin sighs again and leaves without a word or backward glance.

You stand there for a minute, unsure if that really happened. But the signature Slurpee cup of blue raspberry, already sweating because the June heat in Gotham is unbearable and the AC is not up to task, assures you very much that that did just happen.

A little unsteady, you take a seat on the stool, shaking your head and dragging the cup to you.

At least you got to see Flash again.

You don’t see him again, which is what you expected.

What you don’t expect is the appearance of Red Robin the next night.

You’ve grown up in Gotham City. Like anyone else, you have a healthy dose of fear and respect for the vigilantes that prowl the shadows. You also, unlike Vicki Vale or any journalist or obsessive conspiracy theorist, have absolutely zero interest in interacting with them.

Usually, interacting with them means you are in grave danger.

(You had to unlearn some of that during your brief tenure in Keystone City; the Flash was a little bit different from them. Maybe more than a little bit…)

So, when Red Robin shows up at Circle K at half past one in the morning, you are… a tad wary.

It doesn’t help that he seems awkwardly frozen, too, as your voice catches in the middle of your perfunctory Hi, welcome in as you realize who it is.

For a minute, it is painfully, painfully quiet.

“Is there something—”

“Do you have any—”

You both stop. You purse your lips. Red Robin is… blushing a little bit? Holy shit.

“Go ahead,” he says, clearing his throat after. His voice still sounds off like yesterday—modulated.

You grimace. “Sorry, I was just asking if there was something going on? Should I lock down the shop or hide or something?”

He looks briefly confused. “No? I mean, no… Everything is fine. I was just wondering if you guys had any, uh—” he seems to falter, scrambling a little bit “—hot… chocolate?”

Hot chocolate in June? What a weirdo.

You keep your face straight, though.

Flash might’ve let you off the hook when it came to formalities but you’d be an idiot to think you could get away with that with these guys.

He exhales the briefest laugh at something, then—you, you realize, your expression, which should be perfectly polite, what the hell. He turns his head away as a smile curls his lips. That niggling feeling—which began as soon as you realized he was here—strengthens. You push it away for a second.

“I know. Late night. Don’t like coffee, so it’s a good alternative.”

How did he—?

Must be the detective thing.

You apologize anyway.

“Sorry. My, uh, friend’s like that, in a way,” you say, your tongue again moving faster than your brain can grapple with. He won’t care about the fact that your friend, Tim, is like that, too. Well, Tim likes the occasional energy drink if he’s staying up late because he doesn’t like coffee. Not this hot chocolate business. But maybe? Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, actually. Probably better than Red Bull, even if he doesn’t drink it often, maybe once or twice a month. And, anyway, it’s not the point. This guy doesn’t care. He probably couldn’t care less. You’re just trying to show him—oh, it doesn’t matter. This entire thing has gone straight to shit. All because he managed to read your judgment.

“Oh?” It’s a question but it’s a bit strangled. See? He doesn’t care. Poor guy. Probably trying to think of a way to get out of this. Well, you’ll do him one better.

“Uh, yeah… he’s—well. Doesn’t matter. Yeah, the machine is working. It’s over there.”

“Thanks.”

You nod and glance away, leaving him to cross to the other side of the store. You can’t help but watch him go, watching the way the heavy black cape swishes with his movements, boots soundless on the shitty tiled floors. He disappears behind the shelf, but his head is visible. A head of dark, dark hair that seems… familiar to you.

Ugh. What is with you?

It’s Red freakin’ Robin. You’ve glimpsed him and the others briefly. Shadows in the night, swinging from buildings, jumping from rooftops. Anybody who lives in Gotham long enough has seen the same. Doesn’t mean you know him enough to be this way, to be so bothered by something that won’t even come to mind.

You shake your head briefly.

You should think more on why he’s even here.

Though, it seems obvious, given what happened yesterday night.

Flash has a way of getting beneath your skin and inciting the most childish tendencies. You imagine his little comment about trust between vigilante and citizen bothered Red Robin.

Well, rest assured, you understand the position they are in. You enjoyed the way Flash visited you but they can’t afford that. Perception is gold. It is true, in some ways, that if it were as effective as they wanted it to be, Gotham would be less crime-ridden than it currently is.

(But that was also a conundrum with the corrupt government. So long as the systems were in place, crime would always happen, and it would take more than the Bats to fix that.)

Either way, they cannot afford for that mask to slip—metaphorically and literally.

There is a level of trust, you think, between the Bats and the people but… it’s not the same kind Flash fosters with his own.

You feel obligated to let Red Robin know that, with that, he has no obligation to do anything out of the ordinary.

So, that’s what you do when he comes back over to the counter, two small cups of hot chocolate in hand.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

He turns forward with a five dollar bill in hand. “I can’t just not pay—”

“I’m not talking about that.”

He is paying. You are moderately appreciative of what they do but not that appreciative.

“So, what else is it that I don’t have to do?”

You gesture between you two. “This. Come here to try and prove the Flash wrong.”

“I’m not—”

You try to level with him.

“It’s cool, man. He can be annoying. Annoying enough that he could make anyone want to prove him wrong. I get it. But he’s also a little bit of a doof when it comes to matters of the public. Though I’m betting he was trying to aggravate you more than anything. Either way, I get it. You have an image to keep up. Do what you have to do.”

“So, you don’t want me to come back?” Not an accusation. A genuine question.

You blink. “That’s not what I said. I don’t mind. I’m just… letting you know.”

“What do you know about it, anyway? Upholding an image? You seem very confident on the do’s and don’ts, despite being a civilian.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You guys actually refer to us non-vigilantes as civilians? Like, unironically?”

He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you with the emotionless white lids of the domino mask, lips pressed in a line.

You smile and roll your eyes, finally taking his five and opening the register. “I’m majoring in communication with a concentration in PR. Did an internship at Quickstart Enterprises last semester working with their PR department. You can say I know a thing or two about it.”

“What year?”

“Just finished my third. Starting my final in the fall. Look, I’m not saying you have to take my advice, I just wanted you to know. That’s all. I’m not holding it against you.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

You slide his change to him. “That’s all I ask.”

He picks up the cups, says, “Keep the change,” and then, he’s gone, dark cape fluttering, his figure swallowed up by the darkness of the night.

The only traces of his presence is the door slowly closing and the change still sitting on the counter.

These hero-types and their dramatic exits. Honestly.

You meet the Flash in your second week of work at Circle K.

The stipend from QE covered your housing and groceries but didn’t allow for much options regarding the latter. At least not the fresh produce kind.

So, you picked up a job at Circle K. Part-time only, which worked well with the schedule you had at QE. You typically worked evenings—not the graveyard shift you do now, which you took only because it paid better during the night—so from seven to eleven.

The Flash was different from the Bats in that regard. While Signal worked during the day, the rest of them worked during the night.

Flash told you he liked sleep, so he would take care of things during a reasonable hour in the evening to accommodate that, which meant you were beheld to his presence.

Frequently.

And the first time…

You have no idea what to make of the superhero currently raiding the sausage grill.

A larger part of you is suspicious, hoping that the Flash isn’t about to come up to you and say something arrogant about not being required to pay. A lot of the cops you get say something to that effect. It takes so much willpower in you to not roll your eyes.

But another part of you right now, the Tim part of your brain, is fascinated. Wants to ask some geeky questions about his power. Presumably, the fact that he is the fastest man alive means he has to eat a lot to sustain it, right?

Well. That one is a bit self-explanatory. At least if the way he’s stuffing his face tells you anything.

Suspicion wins out, though.

Keystone City is a nice enough city. Central City, across the river, is the same. They aren’t Gotham, that’s for sure, and sometimes you don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse.

It’s mostly that Keystone City is situated in Kansas and across the Mississippi, in Mississippi, is Central City. These regions of the country, historically conservative, make you a bit tetchy. Not at all helped by the fact that for a very long time, Keystone City was suspended in the fifties. Or rather, what they thought were the fifties. Time passed normally outside of it until the Flash fixed everything.

It gives Keystone an aesthetic old-timey vibe to it but with all the modern luxuries of the late 2010s, like phones and, you know, civil rights.

But things have been okay, for the most part. The people you encounter here at Circle K are amiable enough. (Well, except for the cops you get. You could go without dealing with those idiots.)

Though, admittedly, between work for QE and here and trying to keep yourself fed and (mostly) rested, you haven’t gotten out much.

The Flash, though… you haven’t directly encountered him. Not in your few weeks here. Sometimes when walking to the subway, you feel the sharp gust of wind, commonly associated with him as he makes his way through the city faster than a speeding bullet, glass windows and cars rattling dangerously in the aftermath of his path. On the news, when he takes down whichever rogue woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and in the newspaper. But nothing beyond that.

People speak fondly of him, for the most part. Rumors are solid sources of information but you just can’t help but be a little bit suspicious. There is such a thing as too good to be true, after all…

You reach for your half-empty cup of blue raspberry Slurpee. Though it’s the beginning of September, summer takes longer to leave the midwest, you’ve learned, and the summers here are loads worse than ones you’ve experienced in Gotham.

Before you can even get your mouth around the red straw, a breeze hits and you blink, finding the Flash in front of you, depositing mostly empty cartons of hot dogs onto the counter, with a few of them still full. On their way to being empty, though, as he crams more into his mouth. A cup of cherry Slurpee finishes it off.

The Flash points a half-eaten hot dog at you. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

You narrow your eyes. “I’m sorry?”

“No, no, not like that. You’ve just got this suspicion to you. This… paranoia. A paranoia that can only belong to someone from Gotham,” he says, nodding to himself.

Well, that’s—

Hm.

A bit embarrassed to be caught out like that—because it isn’t the first time—you attempt to make up for it.

“I’m from Metropolis, actually.”

Best to stay on the east coast. Even you couldn’t pass as someone from the west coast, like Star City or Coast City or something.

Flash grins at you. “Liar.”

You aren’t used to this kind of playful banter. Certainly not from a literal superhero, from someone who regularly saves the world with the likes of Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman and more. You don’t think you expected the cold brutality the city gets from the Bats back home but… you didn’t expect this, either.

To get a much-needed sense of normalcy, you scan one of the hot dog cartons, adding them up on the screen.

“Was it that obvious? I wasn’t trying to be… I mean, I was, but, you know, I didn’t, um…”

You stop, cringing. Very eloquent and more than a little annoying, given your career choice. Can’t be like that when you get put on the spot. Even if it’s by a superhero. Especially if it’s by a superhero. Journalists are even worse, anyway…

“Relax, kid,” he laughs. “To tell you the truth, it was hard to miss but I’m sort of geared for that kind of thing, what with my choice in career.”

“Right.” You scan the Slurpee and take a drink of yours while he fiddles with some zipper in his suit. A deep red, with a purple tinge, a silver Flash symbol on his chest, and a cowl, but with the top free, showing off a shock of red hair, and his eyes still exposed. Pretty green.

“But I do have an unfair advantage,” he goes on. “I see a similar look every time I have a League meeting.”

You blink. “The League…?”

“You should know. Your caped crusader, Batman. Of course, that’s also because he doesn’t like me—and the feeling is mutual, trust me—but, you know. Schematics. He sits right across from me and that’s all I get, this classic brand of Gothamite suspicion on top of the usual wordless Batman disapproval.”

“Should you be telling me that?”

He hands you a twenty. You pop open the register to break it. Another breeze hits and the empty cartons of hot dogs are shoved into the trash, with him eating the last one and on his way to finishing the large cup of cherry-flavored Slurpee.

“I mean, what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” you say lightly, calculating his change. “I could go to the press. Breaking News: Strife within the League. Tenuous relations between Batman and the Flash.”

“Oh, really?”

“That’s the press. A common dislike will absolutely turn into that in their headlines. They would take it and run.”

“That is true. You a journalist?”

“Oh, no. Communications, with a concentration in public relations.”

Flash thinks on it for a second, finishing his hot dog, then the Slurpee. You partially expect him to get angry. It would be a justified reaction. He doesn’t know you and you don’t know him. You can admit that some of what you just said is a bit… imperious. Who are you to lecture him, right?

“You aren’t wrong,” he finally says, repeating his earlier words as the last hot dog carton and Slurpee cup disappear from the counter—thrown in the trash.

“But,” he presses, accepting the change from you—a few dollars—then dropping it into your tip jar. “I know you aren’t going to take that to the press.”

“How’s that?”

He points at you. “Because I don’t think you’re the kind of person to do that.”

“You’re appealing to my morals?”

“Yes. Is it working?”

“Not much work to be had,” you admit. “I was never going to. I was just…”

“Being nice and telling me I should watch what I say,” he finishes, grinning. “Which is true. All true. I just couldn’t help myself. What’s your name, kid?”

You tell him. He extends a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you. Welcome to Keystone City. Hope you enjoy your stay.”

A bit bemused, you nod politely and say, “Thanks.”

Before he can say anything else, he visibly tenses, lifting a hand to the Hermes-like wings at his ears, then, in the next blink, he is gone, off to stop someone or something, leaving you with a sharp gust of wind that rattles the windows and knocks the candy from the shelves under the counter onto the ground.

Well, then.

Talk about a first impression.

reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @peachesona @knoxx-seresinbradshaw @kikis-writing-service @sweetistic @soundsfunbutno @ginevraxrogers

[if you'd like to be added to the taglist (or removed), let me know here or in my inbox! ^_^]

#tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #dc comics imagine #tim drake imagine #red robin imagine #dc comics x reader #tim drake x you #red robin x you #tim drake x y/n #red robin x y/n #batfamily x reader #batfam x reader #batfam x you #batfam x y/n

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p1nkshield · 1 year ago

Text

Hi 👋 This is chapter four of the Estranged Uncle Au!

Just a warning there is mentions of cults and a scene that has Damian being Damian (AKA knife child) Please take care of yourselves! I hope you enjoy!

Clark was sweating buckets.

“I promise you I’m not in danger! This is all a big misunderstanding! Bruce isn’t even that creepy!”

Jazz rattled off several reasons.

“He has a cloyingly sweet public persona, his personal computer has extensive information on all of the local rogues in the area and all the adopted sons we’ve met look practically identical to both each other and you and Danny! Not to mention they all seem trained for combat! How is that not creepy?”

Okay from an impartial standpoint Clark could see how it looked like he was tied up in a cult.

“I swear if another fruitloop billionaire obsessed with one of my family members tries to adopt me I’m gonna wail!”

How specific!

“Wail?” Clark began to ask but was cut off.

“Are you tied up in a cult Clark? Because we can get you out if you are! I … uh know a guy who specializes in taking down cults.”

What?

“I promise you I’m not in a cult! The blue eyes and black hair is a coincidence and I am not in danger! Also what do you mean you know a guy who specializes in taking down cults!?!”

Danny squinted.

“Hold that thought. Everyone stop talking!”

Danny reached towards Clark’s shoulder and picked out a small device, no bigger than a grain of rice out of his cable knit sweater.

“No one who plants listening devices into sweaters isn’t creepy.”

He then promptly threw it to the ground and crushed it with his heel.

“That’s the end of the recording.” Tim said while cringing.

“Sleazy?!? Me? Sleazy? I did a back handspring on hardwood floors for them and they call me sleazy?!”

Dick thought that he could win them over. Was he too heavy handed?

“It’s probably because you fell asleep in the pico de gallo timber.” Jason joked as he inspected the weapons vault.

“What? Me?!? I was the only one who made any headway! I was just up late trying to track whoever was hacking us!” Tim defended.

“Well good news! You found ‘em! Let me know when they hack my library account seeing as the Big bad bat computer is being hacked by a couple teens.” Jason said dismissively as he took a flamethrower fuel canister.

Bruce was experiencing a new amalgamation of emotions. He was both incredibly embarrassed, incredibly amused and incredibly impressed.

How embarrassing that the bat computer was hacked! He put so much effort into the protection of his data!

But then again Clark must be beside himself trying to convince them he wasn’t in a cult and that was incredibly amusing. He even said all the things that people said when they were in denial about being in a cult!

This was absurd! The only way to describe this was absurd!

“Fools! All of you do not truly understand the gravitas of the situation! If they believe that we are indeed weapons dealers they may snoop further and compromise all of our secret identities!” Damian huffed his way into the view of his family.

“We’ll be alright Dami, Tim is reinforcing our defenses for the computer and we’re going to try and disengage for a while. If we keep on trying we might make it worse.” Dick ruffled through Damian’s hair despite many protests.

Damian tutted at this suggestion. They needed to approach the problem head on and quickly rectify the situation lest it spiral into a larger one. Perhaps if they suffered an accident.

“Damian! I know that face! That’s the face you make when you go off and try to rectify the situation by yourself!”

“That is not true Grayson! I was simply thinking about confiding in my companion about how tedious my science project is.”

“You promise you’re only going to engage in age appropriate activities like science homework and book reports?”

“I promise.”

"I'm choosing to believe you" Dick began to walk away before pulling another sour face. "...Sleazy?"

Damian checked his hidden blades one final time before encroaching upon this Daniel Fenton who had foolishly entered an alleyway. He deftly held a knife to the throat of his target.

"If you continue to snoop into my father's business I will not hesitate to cut you down!"

Damian was expecting to me met with fear and copious apologies. He was a fearsome and terrifying warrior after all.

"Are you trying to hold me at knifepoint on your tippy-toes?" The target said in the same tone that one would use with a kitten trying to jump a bit too high. They should be focused on the clear danger Damian was posing. Or at least the danger he was posing. Between the moment Damian looked at his feet and the moment he looked back up to find a very unperturbed Danny.

"Did your father put you up to this?" He asked.

"No! I acted of my own accord!"

"Well are there anymore ineffective threats you want to say?"

Damian was about to say something when his stomach audibly growled. Curses! He could not bring a meal in order to maintain secrecy from Alfred! Damian slowly looked up towards Danny's face. He has that look that Grayson gets before he does something annoying like ruffle his hair.

"Are you hungry?"

Damian did not dignify this question with an answer and began to storm off.

"I'm having some friends over, we can spare you a plate! My friend Sam chose the menu though so its vegan."

Damian stopped in his tracks.

"What is it that you are making?"

"Cauliflower gnocchi with cashew cream pesto."

"And this is taking place in Clark's home?"

"yep."

"Fine. But I will not be lenient with you because you've offered me a meal!"

Danny laughed and texted Sam

"Hey get another bundle of basil Im bringing a guest"

#estranged uncle au #dp x dc #Give clonk a moment to explain himself!#Damian Wayne thinks he is the best at solving issues quickly #Danny: We are having *fancy food you can eat*#Damian: ... fine. You may live a few more hours.#Also Alfred already knows what Damian is doing and where he is. He's just letting the punishment be him missing an Alfred-cooked lunch #Clark isn’t in a cult he swears!#tw cult mention #tw knife

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solar-wing · 1 year ago

Text

⚣ Therapist BatBro 👓

⚣👓 A/N → Therpist BatBro makes his debut. The second pic is honestly what I feel a therapy session in the Wayne family would look like. This is from another request I got from my previous account.

⚣👓 Summary → Your family isn't pleased with your new hobby or group of friends. But, somehow you've made it a business. Gotta respect the hustle at least.

⚣👓 Words → 2.3k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 👓

⚣ ENJOY 👓

The way I see it, you're either a vigilante with the fam and all the villains just seem to like you for some reason and ask where you are during a battle OR you're not a vigilante and you volunteer at Arkham (which would be absolutely insane but it's Arkham so it breaks even) and everyone there is cool with you. Even the Joker (which won't fly well with Jason at all).

We're going to go with the second option for this one.

So, since Bruce was adamant about you not joining the family business as a vigilante since you were the youngest and he had an unyielding urge to protect you and your childhood innocence, you needed to find something to do in your free time.

What better than to volunteer at a crazy house for psychopathic murdering villains?

Of course, considering Arkham was filled mainly with criminals your father had put there along with your siblings, it probably wouldn’t be wise to do that since they’d obviously wouldn’t approve.

SO, you did it anyway and just didn't tell them.

BatBro contemplating...

Duke was the first to find out. Batman had supplies Arkham needed but since he was at work and Duke always took the day shift as everyone liked to joke, who better to drop it off than him? Imagine his surprise when he finds his baby bro in there serving ice cream to Mr. Freeze.

"Here ya go Fries, my man. I sprinkled some ice shavings on there to make it a little tangier for you..." You said handing him the cone.

"Ha ha ha, aren't you hilarious." Victor Fries replied with a genuine smile. As far as The Signal persona knew, he was only capable of smirking or mean-mugging the shit of people, with the exception of an occasional shivering face while mocking someone for how cold they were.

'Oh, they're not gonna believe this...' Duke thought, racing home right after. The way he left the institution, the guards almost thought there was a breakout or a fight going on. Nope, but there might be when he told everyone.

Of course, no one believed him at first, just staring at the dude as if he just said the craziest thing in the world like Bruce being an emotionally available parent.

When you came home that night acting cagey and weirder than normal, they figured something was going on and maybe you were at Arkham but for something completely different than what Duke thought it could be. Because, there would be no way Bruce Wayne’s, aka Batman, own son would ever even consider fraternizing with criminals, let alone his enemies. Right?

So, like any other sane, normal family who responded to distressing situations with maturity and rationality... they spied on you.

Damian, Tim, & Cass followed you the next day. Tim was understandably distraught but also curious how you could have managed to form a friendship with Gotham's criminally insane.

Like...THEY WERE INSANE. But, when he really thought about it, considering the family you came from...yeah, okay. He can see the correlation now.

Damian, however, refused to believe his little brother could be so stupid and dense. How could you form relations with the enemy like that? It was stupidity. Plain idiocy at its finest. It was betrayal!

On the other hand, it was a smart move looking from an assassin's point of view. You know the whole keep your friends close and enemies closer deal, but that was his thing. Not yours! So you'd be getting extra noogies and brotherly beatdowns when you got home. In the name of camaraderie and righting your careless decisions.

Cass thought it was fucking hilarious.

Upon their arrival and finding you trading riddle jokes with Riddler, their jaws all collectively dropped to the floor.

"Okay, okay okay..." You breathed, calming down from your wheezing laughter. "Riddle me this...I'm neither a man nor a woman but don't hurt my wittle feelings cause I'm still a person. I'll kick you and scream at you, even both during a tantrum. My ego's bigger than my head but shorter than my height, who am I?"

Riddler took a moment to think about it before the metaphorical lightbulb appeared above his head, "Boy Wonder!" He pointed.

"Which one?" You immediately responded.

"The fourth one!"

"Yes!"

Tim and Cass both had to think about it before they realized the clues in the riddle. They're eyes went wide when they realized who you were talking about, and turned to see Damian who looked ready to tear your head off with his teeth.

"He's in for it when he gets home..." He growled through his grinding teeth.

Damian pissed (Left) | Tim & Cass (Right)

Everyone was mildly concerned when they came home that night and asked them how everything went only for Damian's immediate response to be that he was going to get his revenge sketchbook.

Why Damian has a revenge sketchbook, no one knows. But, everyone was just the right amount unsettled by it.

That night at dinner there was a bit of a tense air as Damian had to be placed between both Bruce and Jason to keep him from lunging at you with his salad fork. Usually, you were used to Damian’s somewhat murderous tantrums, but this was on another level.

He almost looked like he would grow horns out of his head at any moment, which would actually be somewhat fitting. Considering he was the grandson of the Demon and all.

You also noticed how Tim and Cass kept weirdly staring at you. Neither of them said something, which was odd(well except maybe for Cass), but you just ignored it and ate your dinner.

That night, you put some of your old booby traps from when you first moved into the manor back into place. You needed some sort of reassurance and protection to help you sleep. At many points throughout the night, you shot out of bed and grabbed one of the many random weapons you had hidden around you when you thought you heard someone trying to sneak into your room.

Damian definitely tried but had learned his lesson after the last time he got caught in one of your traps. You took a lot of inspiration from movies like Home Alone and The Parent Trap.

The next day, Dick and Steph went to check out the mental institution insane asylum.

Steph also thought it was funny like Cass but in a more ironic type of way. She’d rooted for you to get your own vigilante identity and join the family business. So this was like the ultimate petty revenge and she was here for it.

But Dick just couldn't imagine you in a place like this. His sweet adorable baby brother, in this horrid mess? He was calling it, either blackmail or manipulation. A rude awakening was awaiting him around the corner.

They looked to see you in the middle of practicing a handshake with Bane.

"No Bane, fist bump, then the arm wiggle..." You said, showing him the move for the 4th time.

"Oh sorry buddy," He replied.

"No problem man, let's try again."

They watched you go through the whole routine, Steph taking a video on her phone while Dick looked in surprise and jealousy. How come you and him didn't have a handshake like that? Every little brother should want to have a cool handshake with their cool big brother! Was he not good enough?!

Steph laughing in petty (Left) | Dick breaking down (Right)

When Dick stormed into the manor later muttering about showing you a real handshake, Bruce only raised an eyebrow when Steph walked in looking thoroughly entertained like she just watched the funniest show of her life. It certainly felt like it.

That afternoon, Dick gave you the cold shoulder all day. He even canceled your weekly brother movie night, which shocked everyone, especially your dad. What could have been so bad that would cause Bruce’s first protege to treat his kid brother like this? The same kid who he’d absolutely lose it if they went to anyone other than him for advice or would pout if he didn’t get the first hug from him when in a room full of people.

Of course, he still cracked when you gave him the hurt puppy dog eyes (a trick you learned from Jason that he used to use on Bruce all the time when he was younger). Dick caved and you guys ended up watching a movie, though you were mildly concerned whenever your oldest brother paused the movie and took the time to highlight the friendship and connection between two characters, especially if they were siblings.

Something like a special code, an inside joke, or even maybe a HANDSHAKE. What does it say about a big brother if his little brother doesn’t want to have a cool special handshake with him?!

Subtle.

You just nodded along, making a mental note to avoid any family-oriented films for your next movie night.

But, after this incident, you’d fully managed to get Bruce’s attention. He knew that Dick out of all his children was usually the least likely to get irate over something that wasn’t serious. So the fact that he did, despite how unserious it may have seemed, but it was settled.

Something was going on and your dad, no…Batman was going to get to the bottom of it.

Jason decided to come along with your father, fully prepared to drag you out of the building by force if he had to. He even went as far as calling your boyfriend Conner Kent, aka Superboy, who he and Bruce had a love/hate relationship with because they couldn't really threaten the boy like they wanted to if he hurt you.

Well, Jason couldn’t at least.

Bruce had more than enough kryptonite in multiple storages across his warehouse and had no problem showing it to the half-Kryptonian as a warning.

Conner was more than a little peeved, try fucking pissed when he heard you'd been hanging out with supervillains. And he as well was ready to sling you over his shoulder if he had to. But, probably not in front of your dad who kept throwing pointed glares his way as they moved through the building.

When Batman showed up demanding to see where the volunteer by your name was, they quickly rushed to show him to your location. He couldn't fathom this. The mere thought that his youngest child, his sweet, innocent (on a good day) good-natured son, would be hanging around all his enemies, laughing with them like they were good ol pals?

He'd sooner believe Joker was going to therapy.

The shock of his lifetime was also waiting for him around the corner.

They came around to see you through a window sitting in an office room in business casual attire, holding a clipboard and writing down notes while Joker was laying on a couch with his cuffed hands resting on his chest, venting out his emotions.

"And sometimes, I do feel like I go a bit far. But, I can't take all the blame. I mean, everyone paints me as the villain, but Batsy plays into our little game just as much as I do. Why does he get painted as the hero and me as a crazy clown? Well, you know, besides the clown face, HAHAHA!" He vented, ending with his usual eerie cackle.

"Uh-huh, and how does that make you feel?" You asked while scribbling a few notes on your legal pad and adjusting the fake glasses on your face before turning around at the sound of the door opening.

You felt your heart drop in your stomach when you saw your father, brother, and boyfriend all staring at you with very unhappy looks.

"BATSY! Oh, do come in! We were just talking about you. I think it's about time you and I got some relationship counseling." Joker exclaimed.

Not one word was said while Conner grabbed you by your wrists, (gently of course because he's caring like that) and dragged you out of the room, Jason not too far behind, ready to tear you a new one. Batman held his shoulder, while Joker just watched in amusement, "Guess my hour's up."

You, Bruce, and Jason arguing (Left) | Joker enjoying the show (Right)

You were immediately brought home after getting an earful from Jason to which you offered him his own free session.

He agreed.

Bruce demands to know why you would even consider going there, socializing with those people.

"Well, seeing as how I can't join the family business, I figured I could do some good in some way. And villains or not, they've got good in them! Just you know, when they're not trying to murder people." You answered.

You were interrupted by your other siblings appearing before you felt an arm forcibly turn you around which Conner raised an annoyed eyebrow at, but he kept his mouth shut.

"What does Bane have that I don't? Am I not good enough as an older brother to have a handshake with?"

You sighed, "Is that why you were so upset the other day?! Ugh, would you like to create a special handshake with me, Dick?"

" Yes! Super secret too! You can't have any handshakes with anybody else!" He hugged you while you patted his back.

Brothers could be so needy sometimes.

You could see your boyfriend eyeing you both with the strangest look. In your defense, he had plenty of warning of how weird your family was.

Before things could calm down too much though, everyone heard a shrill voice screaming your name from the top of the staircase.

"Y/N!"

"Fuck..." You muttered under your breath, before turning to see Tim and Cass giving you nervous looks.

“You were there with Riddler, weren’t you?”

They could barely look you in the eye as you turned to see Damian standing on the banister, holding one of your slippers in his hand.

"Who's short now?!"

Alfred went to get the first aid kit.

Damian with your slipper...

BONUS:

☀️ | Bat Family | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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