whatohitsonfirewelp

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never clocked bobby's reaction here lmaoooo

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I think it would be really fucking funny if Jee-Yun ends up taller than both her parents. She took the talk genes that skipped Maddie and Chimney.

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Every year during the Olympics Jason calls Dick and it's just

Jason:..

Dick:..I-

Jason: THAT COULD HAVE BEEN YOU!! And what did you do instead?

Dick: I became a cop 😔

Jason: YOU BECAME A COP!!!

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little known fact, kripke didnt tell jackles about this and so this is his first time actually seeing that jim plays robert singer in the boys too. upon learning this, jackles proceeded to think he was in a supernatural reboot for about a week of filming. it was really fucked up but he just seemed happier that way so they let him believe it

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Headcanon that when the batkids are mad at Bruce or just, mildly annoyed, they deliberately use last names that piss Bruce off, a lot.

Kidnappers over the phone: We have Richard Wayne in our custody, if you want to see him again-

Dick, mad after Bruce made him throw out the discowing suit, in a muffled voice: It's actually Richard Grayson-Kent, get it right

Bruce, on the verge of a heart attack: Chum Please

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Barista at Batburger: What would you like your coffee cup to say?

Tim, not mad, just mildly annoyed at the way Bruce did the reports last night: My name is Tim Jordan-Gardener-Cruz-Scott

Bruce, clutching his Jokerized fries so hard veins appear: You're grounded

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author, at a book signing event: And who should I address this to?

Jason, after Bruce had let the Joker live yet again: To Jason Dent, please

Bruce, standing in line next to him, whom Jason had brought along to pay for the signed copy: I should make Harvey pay child support

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Announcer: And the award goes to, Ms Cassandra Isley-Quinn!

Cass, mad because Bruce missed another one of her recitals, walking up to the stage:

Bruce:

Bruce, signing to her: You're killing me, you know that? You're killing your father

Harley, sitting next to Bruce along with Ivy: Yes! That's our daughter!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Duke, calling some shady Gotham lawyer right in front of Bruce after he lectured him a little too much about keeping up secret identities: Hi, how much to legally change my name to Duke Thomas-Queen?

Shady lawyer: About 50$

Duke: Got it. Hey Bruce can I borrow 50$?

Bruce:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steph doesn't use the Wayne name anyway, but sometimes she uses it for Benefits™

Damian would much rather die than adopt the last name of anyone in the justice league or the batrouges or anyone except his very infamous lineages, because he doesn't want to associate with incompetent people

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“You said you did this last year, why are you just telling me now?”

“Because, Evan,”

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There’s something off about Bruce.

Dick’s eye is trained for detail; He has to calculate every leap, every step, every breath, every count. He’s a showman. Everything is routine, and routine is everything.

Injury isn’t unusual, especially for his father .He out stubborns Tim in resisting medical examinations, after all.

For Bruce, secrets are protection. He lied about every injury he had when Dick was Robin, suffering in silent agony as the pain grew and grew, a tradition he carries on from Jason to Damian.

If Bruce screams, it’s bad.

“God fucking dammit, how the fuck does he do this? Who the fuck breaks their femur AND just carries on? Jesus FUCKING Christ.”

Bruce curses under his breath, profanity hushed. Dick’s veins freeze, blood turning to stone. He guesses his shock is obvious because Jason mirrors it to perfection.

One; Bruce doesn’t curse.

Two; He definitely doesn’t curse in a jersey accent.

The unease is pungent. Alfred practically tastes it, vitriolic as anything. His chest is taut, pulse slow, “Sir,” it’s cautious, “Shall I prepare the supplies?”

‘Bruce’ waves his hand, voice gruffer, lower, smokey, “Yeah, thanks, babe,”

Alfred blinks. And whoever pretends to be Bruce, blinks back, almost like a deer being cornered by an English hound, smile a bit boyish and unsure.

“…Thomas?”

“… Okay, you’re gonna laugh—“

Dick is reeling, because apparently:

His dead grandparents have been possessing his father throughout the years and they, wards to the best detective in the world, never caught on.

“Look, I get you’re pissed, BUT,” It’s so unbelievably weird watching Bruce be so expressive;

His hands move energetically, like they have their own voices, and his rain soft voice catches on fire when his father talks through him,

“This IS 50% MY body, technically.“

“Thomas, dear, that is not how that works. Come now, you’re scaring our grandchildren.”

And Jason’s voice is uncharacteristically soft when he speaks, more posh, more elegant . That is not his brother.

Alfred passes out, to no one’s surprise.

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There’s something off about Bruce.

Dick’s eye is trained for detail; He has to calculate every leap, every step, every breath, every count. He’s a showman. Everything is routine, and routine is everything.

Injury isn’t unusual, especially for his father .He out stubborns Tim in resisting medical examinations, after all.

For Bruce, secrets are protection. He lied about every injury he had when Dick was Robin, suffering in silent agony as the pain grew and grew, a tradition he carries on from Jason to Damian.

If Bruce screams, it’s bad.

“God fucking dammit, how the fuck does he do this? Who the fuck breaks their femur AND just carries on? Jesus FUCKING Christ.”

Bruce curses under his breath, profanity hushed. Dick’s veins freeze, blood turning to stone. He guesses his shock is obvious because Jason mirrors it to perfection.

One; Bruce doesn’t curse.

Two; He definitely doesn’t curse in a jersey accent.

The unease is pungent. Alfred practically tastes it, vitriolic as anything. His chest is taut, pulse slow, “Sir,” it’s cautious, “Shall I prepare the supplies?”

‘Bruce’ waves his hand, voice gruffer, lower, smokey, “Yeah, thanks, babe,”

Alfred blinks. And whoever pretends to be Bruce, blinks back, almost like a deer being cornered by an English hound, smile a bit boyish and unsure.

“…Thomas?”

“… Okay, you’re gonna laugh—“

Dick is reeling, because apparently:

His dead grandparents have been possessing his father throughout the years and they, wards to the best detective in the world, never caught on.

“Look, I get you’re pissed, BUT,” It’s so unbelievably weird watching Bruce be so expressive;

His hands move energetically, like they have their own voices, and his rain soft voice catches on fire when his father talks through him,

“This IS 50% MY body, technically.“

“Thomas, dear, that is not how that works. Come now, you’re scaring our grandchildren.”

And Jason’s voice is uncharacteristically soft when he speaks, more posh, more elegant . That is not his brother.

Alfred passes out, to no one’s surprise.

[whatohitsonfirewelp]

Steve is walking down the hallway towards his math class when it happens.

Someone bumps into him, a girl he only vaguely recognizes, and she reaches out and grabs his hand to steady herself.

His vision explodes with what he knows must be color. Bright shades assault his eyes, shades he doesn't even have names for. His classmates' clothes, the tiles beneath his feet, the homecoming sign above him. Even the lights have taken on a new hue, washing Steve's entire world in something completely alien.

The girl looks as shocked as steve feels. Her eyes are wide, and her mouth drooped open as she spins in a slow circle. She's pretty, he thinks. Short hair, soft features, an unusual sense of style. She's clutching an instrument case, and he thinks that's why he recognizes her.

"Uh," he says, catching her attention. "Hi."

Her mouth opens, closes, opens once more, and then she dashes away from him, disappearing into the throng of students.

He spends the rest of the day cataloging colors. By the time he's climbing into his car (which is a color he still can't name, but has decided he likes) he's found at least a dozen different shades, and he wonders how they all fit into the seven colors he's been told are in the rainbow.

He tells his mom when he gets home that day. She is ecstatic. When Steve admits he doesn't have anything to tell about the girl herself, his mom turns her attention on naming colors for him.

It becomes quickly apparent that something isn't quite right. He'd been so focused on everything that was new that he hadn't realized what was the same. He still sees a lot of grays. Blues, purples, greens,and violets are all still lost on him.

That doesn't make what he can see any less spectacular, though. Oranges, reds, pinks, yellows. The yellows are his favorite.

He'll meet his other soulmate, his mother assures him, as they sit in the backyard, admiring the rich golds and reds of the trees that he can now see, standing out against the gray of the sky he knows should be blue.

He does, about two years later. He's picking Henderson up from school one afternoon, but instead of Dustin climbing into the front seat like usual, the back door swings open violently and not one but two figures scramble into the back seat.

"Henderson, what the fuck?!?"

"Drive!" Henderson screeches, his head popping up between the seats. "Go, go, go!" A hand, not Dustin's, reaches out as the stranger tries to sit himself up and fingers graze his temple as he's peeling away from the curb.

"Motherfucking assmunch-" Dustin is saying, "thinking he can get away with that shit-"

But Steve isn't paying attention, because the trees are green and the sky is blue and the world is suddenly right.

Steve looks into the rearview mirror and meets the gaze of a shocked-looking Eddie Munson.

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robin buckley as chappell roan and steve as her backup dancer and platonic soulmate (obviously)

something something they go to the vmas, perform, look cool as fuck whilst doing it, and eddie munson, lead guitarist of corroded coffin, is physically incapable of not making a fool of himself on social media, much to his manager's chagrin

everything goes along swimmingly between the two and with robin's career until someone, probably a rabid corroded coffin fan, digs into steve and discovers robin and steve are married, and have been for years

cue an extensive media circus where a not-small minority of robin's fandom cancels her for lying about being a lesbian. robin and steve work together to search for the patience to explain midwestern homophobia and lavender marriages to 12 year olds on tiktok and are reasonably successful, much to their surprise

roughly half a year after the fiasco had died down -- besides the occasional over-zealous kid trying to remind people why their fav is #problematic -- eddie tweets 'i <3 sleeping with married men', followed by a frantic reply of 'THERE WAS MNEAT TO BE A PICTURE WITH THIS', before he finally manages to post the intended picture of him and steve

robin, Shit-Stirrer Supreme, innocuously posts a week later a wedding picture of her and steve, captioned 'the only man i'd trust to always be faithful to me' and eddie quite publicly unfollows robin

the groupchat with all three of them in it is full of screenshots and videos of reactions for them to laugh over, reaching its peak when robin features on a corroded coffin song

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Oh post of origin

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I’ve said it once and I’ll say it a million more times. The fact that Robin was gay and not romantically interested in Steve at all ended up making THIS moment SO much more special.

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platonic soulmates Stobin

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*grips your shoulders tightly* listen to me. you HAVE to make stobin weirder, okay? you have to make them the embodiment of that Secret Third Thing™️. they’re those cats at a shelter that you can’t separate for anything. make them do examinations of each others bodies cause they’re worried about a health issue. make them share a single piece of gum. make them swap pronouns and names and clothes on a regular basis. make them shower together. i need one of the kids to call for steve in a different room and have robin come to help instead because they’re one person. i need steve to show up to work wearing robins tag cause she’s too sick to come in. they have to get weirder, do you understand? it’s for their health.

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if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about

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we should meet steve's parents in st5 but it should be joe keery in a wig and joe keery with a fake beard like in back to the future 2

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They're being chased by a monster and yet their first instinct at hearing Dustin singing on the radio is to judge him. I love them so much.