#TIM NOW HAVE MORE BLACKMAIL CONTENT

[hana-no-seiiki]

Are you familiar with Ms Marvel (Kamala Khan)? What about Yandere Platonic Batfamily with a reader who is basically like Kamala (Comics ver).

Just imagine how hilarious to find that their Fangirl knows their identities and made a few fanfics about them. Like for example-

Red Hood vs The Monster truck possessed demon!

Batman and Robin vs Evil Sewer lizard's from another world!

Nightwing and the Smog-Breather!

Y'know just Fanfic writer who's also a superhero.

Also I love your content. Make sure to take breaks!

YANDERE BATFAM W/ MS MARVEL! READER

“Just to make sure. . . You’re totally Damian Wayne right?”

“What-“

“Cool! That means Batman has to be Bruce. And the robins…”

You may or may not have been knocked out during your first encounter with one of your favorite heroes. By Robin himself.

Look, Damian doesn’t usually knock out innocent civilians like they murdered his cat or anything but you were a liability and a half.

Yeah, maybe revealing that you knew everyone’s identities wasn’t a good idea.

Besides Damian was kind of iffy about you since you were feeling up his body when he swooped in to save you.

(Turns out you were just confirming your theories but still)

Now the surveillance started mostly due to your uncanny encyclopedic knowledge of the Batfam and basically every other hero and villain out there.

Once they figured out you were basically harmless and just needed to get a better filter when it comes to things you say, you were mostly home free.

The thing is, the Batsons might have formed an obsession with you. Since you’re asking a yandere blog here, it was definitely not healthy.

They liked the idea of someone knowing them in and out. You’ve had competitions with Tim to figure out who knew the other better while Bruce and Damian just deadpanned in the background.

Dick loved entertaining your ships and headcannon questions. Bruce was more reluctant but found it to be a great way to incentivize you to behave and work with him better.

Jason just adores you. You’re the only younger sibling that isn’t stuck up or reminds him of his low self esteem and struggle to be a good vigilante. He was definitely weirded out at first but grew to be like Dick and definitely fuels your fan habits. Both guys definitely not so subtly strip in front of you sometimes so you can get more “reference” material.

Which brings me to the next point, who you choose to write or draw on your blog definitely gets discussed. Your blog’s every post is actively monitored at all moments. I wouldn’t be surprised if Bruce installed a large monitor in the Batcave just to watch over it.

Him and Tim definitely analyze your stats and help you with growing your blog. Watch Bruce spend thousands of dollars to get your page everywhere (subtly cause the first time he did it, you were so embarrassed you refused to talk to him for a week). Alfred works as your personal assistant when it comes to timing/scheduling your posts and making sure you tag them properly + have the most aesthetic formats.

Anyways, back to the discussing your posts thing, you learnt to make sure your posts, heck even your drafts, are all equal when it comes to who it features. Otherwise prepare to get overwhelmed with love bombing.

It took Damian the longest to warm up to you, but when he realizes how much you mean to him there’s no turning back. It starts from him unconsciously humoring your questions to full blown out debates over how he’d definitely win in whatever battle you pit him in your fanfics.

Speaking of fanfics, Damian loves to blackmail you about them. He’s the type of brother to love tormenting you about your totally ‘weird hobbies’ while simultaneously reading every piece of literature/art piece in your blog as if you’re bringing out the modern bible and he’s a staunch believer in the God that is you.

He then proceeds to critique your art and written works if not outright bash them.

You’d have been in tears from the essays he writes about you if you didn’t already know it was him.

(Tim told you.)

Now when your powers awakened, you went from that one sibling that knew way too much to almost an essential part of their team.

Almost because every time you were allowed to go out, someone had to be on “mouth guard duty” for when you accidentally spill what you know.

(It’s usually Tim or Bruce)

You worked a lot with Bruce during those times. Who definitely flexes the hours you two spend in comparison to the batsons.

He doesn’t mind it if you get distracted by the boys, though.

Really, he’s glad you haven’t asked how your family has been doing or when you’re going home.

‘Cause he’d have a lot of explaining to do.

General Batfam Taglist: @the-sander-fander

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere batfam #yandere damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader #yandere damian wayne #dick grayson x reader #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere tim drake x reader #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere batman #yandere batfamily #yandere imagine #yandere fic #yandere damian #platonic yandere #yandere robin x reader #yandere nightwing x reader

[megamindsupremacy]

Reverse Robins: 36

Masterpost

Tim (13) has been going out at night to follow Batman for a few months now. Having observed the past two kids who did the same (Duke and Mia), he manages to stay out of sight of Batman, content to observe and not interfere. He runs into Steph (14), who went out as Spoiler in an attempt to get Batman’s both attention and help in taking down her father. She runs into Tim while they're both attempting to track down Batman, smacks him with a brick, and panics + drags him back to her house because she knows if she leaves him out by himself then someone is going to get him. Tim wakes up to the tender care of a fourteen-year-old with no medical experience and an ice pack, gets yelled at by Steph, and yells back at Steph. Thus is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. The pair makes Tim’s house their base and try to work together to take down Cluemaster without the help of the Bats, with Steph as Spoiler and Tim as the voice in her ear. Early on, Steph gets caught by Duke (18) and Damian (19), who interrogate her as to who she is. Tim tells her their identities so she can try to blackmail them into letting her go. They instead take her back to the Batcave to determine what the fuck they’re supposed to do about this rogue fourteen-year-old who knows their identities. 

    Tim storms the Batcave, pursued by Alfred. He also gets tied up while Damian and Duke try to call Bruce and Cass (12) to figure out what the hell they do with these random fucking kids. Alfred recognizes Tim as their neighbor's kid and asks him why he is not with his parents on their trip. Tim is like “why would I be with my parents”. Bruce and Cass get back in and Tim and Steph explain everything. They demand that they be let go so they can go take out Cluemaster. Bruce is down with this because he does Not want more kids to deal with. His assorted kids and dad are all like Uh Fuck That and refuse to let him drop these kids back off on the streets of Gotham to try and take down a low-level villain. Tim and Steph are more than happy with being released to do their own thing, but Duke/Damian/Cass convince Bruce to teach Tim and Steph crime fighting. Tim typically stays behind in the cave as tech support, and, once Cluemaster has been re-imprisoned, Steph joins the posse of costumed children that follow Batman around. Tim gets a bit of fighting training and occasionally goes out with Steph as Spoiler #2 if they just want to dick around Gotham for a night or if there’s an all-hand-on-deck situation.

#mads posts #mads official reverse robins au #reverse robins #tim drake #stephanie brown #bruce wayne #duke thomas #damian wayne #cassandra cain #batman #batfam #dc #theyre HERE #which means #:) #the fun is about to start

[glorified-red]

would you rather…..

Have prince!damian save you from an arranged marriage to someone you don’t love 

Or 

King! Tim rescue you from rebels who have kidnapped you 

this was a hard choice im not gonna lie, you're getting more creative man.

On one hand, I'm on a HUGE damian kick right now, like massive. My poor baby boy Tim, but my brain is ROTTING with Damian content. Sorry not sorry. I may have been a Tim centric blog but not anymore bby.

But a kidnapping fic?? Are you JOKING?? THOSE ARE MY FAVORITE.

UGH.

Okokok Damian saving you from an arranged marriage has so much political potential because he'd have to be so calculated about it in order to perserve his royal status. Honestly it'd be near impossible without blackmail of some type over the other prince.

What that black mail is?? Idk, something angsty I hope. But politics aside, I just want to be carried home with the man I love instead, is that too much to ask?

BUT KIDNAPPING.

Literally kidnapping is the S-Tier of fanfic tropes for me (hypothermia, my love, you are ranked above this).

From the soreness from being tied up, the rope burn, the GAGS, the insecurities, the emotional turmoil, the adrenaline, all the way to the big rescue moment? UGH EVERYTHING ABOUT KIDNAPPING TROPES IS PERFECT.

So yea, Kidnapping for the win thank you.

#asks

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Just watched the first season of Pls Like, all of which is on YouTube. I’d never heard of it or its star, Liam Williams, until someone recommended it to me last night. I have now decided I’m a fan of this show and its star, Liam Williams. That’s how fast that happens. Currently working on getting my hands on seasons 2 and 3.

I’ve been trying lately to be less of a judgmental dick about social media-based content, and this very much is not making me less cynical in that way, but it is very funny. Along with Liam Williams, the guy I hadn’t heard of yesterday but have now decided I very much like, it stars Tim Key. And Emma Sidi, whom I know as that person in Rose Matafeo’s show who was also in Party’s Over, that thing Radio Four throws at me between News Quiz and Now Show weeks sometimes, and I think I’ve seen/heard her in various other things like that. On the subject of Rose Matafeo, she turns up in one episode. As does Lolly Adefope.

It's a satire of YouTubers and that sort of thing, through the eyes of a main character who describes himself as: “A fifty-year-old grumpy technophobe in the body of a twenty-eight-year-old grumpy technophobe.” Which is a fantastic line, one I’d love to say applies to me except that it’s somehow already been four years since I was twenty-eight.

Like I said, it definitely does not help me in my efforts to be less judgmental about that sort of thing. I am trying to acknowledge that letting people put their comedy out on social media themselves can be a good thing, letting it live or die on its own merits instead of having networks decide what gets made. There was a YouTube comment on this Pls Like show that called it an “Oxbridge comedian making fun of the self-made”, which, to be fair, is accurate. But sometimes I really like watching Oxbridge comedians be cynically judgmental. I’m very into Oxbridge comedians being cynically judgmental, to a degree that’s probably hypocritical.

This show is vaguely Nathan Barley-flavoured, and I’m a big fan of anything that’s even remotely Nathan Barley-flavoured. I was even thinking during episode 5 that the only Barley-esque element this show is missing is a main character as dark as Julian Barrett, because this show goes pretty dark but not as far as that one, I mean I can’t see Liam Williams doing the genuinely horrifying blackmail plot from the end of Nathan Barley. And then… well I won’t spoil the details but it did end up with a bit of that.

I thought at first that it would be just the satire, but liked that they brought in more of the plot and characterization as it went along. There were times when I thought the balance between satire and actual plot was a little off, but it was mostly well done. And like I said, I liked the main character, especially as they let him be a person with own flaws and by the end not really above the stuff he was mocking. In a Nathan Barley-esque fashion. I just think they should make a lot more things in a Nathan Barley-esque fashion.

So I highly recommend season 1 of this show, and will probably say the same about 2 and 3 if I manage to find them. I’ve also downloaded a podcast that guy did with Charlotte Ritchie and some other people, because it’s probably good for me to mix things up by getting attached to some slightly younger cynically judgmental Oxbridge comedians, instead of spending so much time on ones who graduated at the turn of the millennium.

[viceturtle]

Based on this.

Where Dick worries about Damian, since this is going to be Damian’s first gala ever. Jason came up with the idea.

#dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #batfam #damian wayne #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #DAMIAN WILL KILL THEM ALL AFTER #WHERE IS BRUCE #TIM NOW HAVE MORE BLACKMAIL CONTENT #DAMIAN IS SO TINY

[voiceless-terror]

#21 and #46 for kiss prompts, maybe? I can't get enough your writing tbf

kiss on a dare- a little jonmartin season one fluff <3 All in all, this is one of Tim’s better Friday nights.

It’s been ages since Jon’s hung out with them, and never with Martin along for the ride. The Archives had been off to a messy start after the Dog Incident and Jon’s subsequent panic over the state of the place. What used to be an ‘every couple of weeks’ tradition turned into an almost-never one as the newly-assembled team got buried under more and more boxes of dusty statements. He’s pretty astounded that Jon agreed to dinner and drinks- although it’s a Friday night, Jon’s been apt to stay weekends more often than not. He figured if he arranged for it at one of theirs instead of a pub, Jon would be more likely to come. He always preferred less crowded settings.

No, the real feat was getting him to come knowing Martin was invited.

Jon’s been getting...better around him, that’s true. He was perfectly fine at his birthday party, going off about emulsifiers for a solid fifteen minutes. Tim’s always been rather fond of Jon’s infodumping, and if he’s comfortable enough to do it around Martin that must be a good sign. Despite an initial freeze-out, he now thanks Martin for his tea and saves his most pointed comments for Martin’s more egregious screw-ups (and even those have less bite than usual). Still, a colleague does not a friend make, and Jon’s never been good at opening up to people he doesn’t know all that well. However, Jon just nodded at the Martin caveat, seemingly not giving it a second thought. And Martin didn’t seem all that worried either.

Whatever, Tim’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He’s just happy they’re all here, having a good time. It’s late and Jon’s had enough wine to keep a smile on his face. He missed that. It’s nice how easily they slot together, even with all of the upheaval and a new addition. Martin himself isn’t so shy after a drink or two, more willing to engage in banter and keep the conversation going. This is what it should be like all the time, Tim thinks. Shitty archive job or not. 

It’s when they retire to the living room, drinks in hand, that he finally notices the little grin on Sasha’s face. And Tim, knowing exactly what that means, is both a little afraid and excited. Four-drink-Sasha has always been a host unto herself.

“Why don’t,” she begins, a hiccup interrupting her as she slumps into an armchair. Tim snickers and ignores the glare this earns him. “Why don’t we play one of our old games-”

Tim raises a glass in agreement as Jon, predictably, groans. Martin looks quizzically between them. Ah yes, time for your initiation, Marto! Not that they’ve played this in about a year or so, of course, but it's always fun to revisit the good old days.

“Seriously? We’re not children-”

Tim gives Jon a playful slap on the back that sends him flying forward on the couch, spilling a bit of wine on Sasha’s rug. He hopes she doesn’t notice. “C’mon, it’ll be fun, boss! Nothing like it to break the ice, and there’s definitely some ice that needs breaking.”

Martin blinks, hand tightening on his glass. He looks nervous, like he always does when he doesn’t know exactly what’s going on. Which is a shame, because he’s been so nice and open all night. Even chatting with Jon. “Sorry, what are you talking about?”

Jon rolls his eyes, giving Martin a commiserating look. “Truth or dare.”

Martin lets out a disbelieving laugh, relaxing minutely. “Wait, really?”

“Yes, really.” Jon’s foot reaches out to shove at Tim’s leg. “Tim loves pulling ridiculous stunts-”

“-Hey, you loved the karaoke idea-”

“You sing?”

“No.” Tim would dispute that, but the look on Jon’s face declares it a bad idea. “And Sasha likes to ask probing questions.”

Sasha preens, though the remark was certainly not meant as a compliment. “What can I say, I’m the Queen of Truth-”

Tim snorts. “Hacking and blackmail more like-”

“Anyway-” Sasha sings out as Tim dodges a pillow to the face. “Tim….truth or-”

“Dare, always dare.”

“You’re absolutely no fun,” Sasha pouts, though it doesn’t take long for her eyes to narrow in thought. There’s very little Tim won’t do, but that’s a dangerous look. “I dare you...to text…”

“Text? You can do better than that, Sash.”

“Text...Elias.” That’s more like it. 

Jon immediately scowls. “Tim, no-”

“I don’t have his number-”

“I do-”

“Sasha!”

“Jon, it’ll be fine! He’ll just say ‘oops, wrong number’ afterwards, no harm, no foul-”

Tim takes this time to snatch at Sasha’s phone, sitting precariously on the arm of her chair. She doesn’t notice, too busy gesturing at Jon empathically. He scrolls through her contact list.

“And then it’ll come down on me-”

Sasha rolled her eyes. “How is he going to connect it to you? It’s not like he knows we’re all together-”

“Done!” Tim tosses the phone back onto the couch with a little grin. Sasha blinks, looking down in confusion.

“Wait, that’s mine-”

The screech and smack on the arm at Tim’s hastily fired off ‘u up? ;)’ to Elias Bouchard were definitely deserved. He’s sure he’ll face consequences for that in the near future, but Jon and Martin’s immediate laughter had been well worth it. Shouldn’t dish it if you can’t take it, that’s Tim’s motto.

In the next round, Tim manages to get Martin to confess to his poetry-writing habit, an admission that has him turning an attractive shade of red. Jon just giggles quietly to himself as Martin reads through one of his poorer attempts at rhyme saved to the notes of his mobile. Tim watches the two of them; Martin keeps looking up at Jon throughout it all like he’s the only one in the room and god, his crush is so evident and yet Jon is oblivious, smiling at him like he’s not on the receiving end of some of the most loaded glances of all time. 

Martin gets Sasha to admit to her most recent perusal through confidential institute records, which turned out to be previous archival expenses (solely to find out what Elias would cover with their new jobs, of course). At first glance, there wasn’t much in the way of extravagant meals or supplies, but a bit more digging had her finding Gertrude’s extensive travel budget. For an old woman, she certainly was a globe-trotter.

“All I’m saying, Jon, is that we could definitely do with a trip to China-”

“Yes, I’ll be sure to ask Elias about Gertrude’s trip to China, something I certainly shouldn’t know about, and he’ll have to let us go.”

“Refill?” Martin’s on his feet, taking Jon’s wine glass in his hand and Tim watches as their fingers brush- go Martin!- and yet Jon just nods his thanks, completely oblivious to the seduction taking place before him. Tim’s given it some thought and honestly, he thinks they’d make a cute couple. An odd pair, for sure, but Jon’s so soft once you get to know him, and Martin’s one of the funniest, sweetest guys he knows. They could be good for each other.

“Well, I still think it’s worth a try.” Sasha’s eyes are starting to blink heavily - she’ll be out for the count tonight, for sure. “Anyway, it’s your turn. I dare you-”

“I didn’t even pick!” Jon says, though he doesn’t seem too put out by it. This is the Jon Martin should know, the easy-humored, smiling man sprawled out before him. He’s even taken his little sweater vest and tie off, looking more like the familiar friend from research Tim knows so well. It warms his heart.

“Fine. Truth or dare?”

“Dare, I suppose. Seeing as how you already have one queued up.”

“I dare you to...to...to give a little kiss to someone in this room.” She waves her glass around imperiously. “Anyone you like.”

Silence. Tim gives Sasha a warning look that she ignores. She’s well in her cups, and he supposes any sense of propriety has gone out the window along with her sobriety. He’s actually seen Jon give quite a few kisses on a particularly memorable New Years Eve, but that was a different time. He doesn’t want him to feel pressured, not when he’s just starting to open back up.

 “Jon doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to-”

Sasha rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, you remember-”

“It doesn’t matter- Jon, you can skip this one if you like, we can think of something else-”

“Tim, it’s alright.” Jon puts a hand on his arm to stop the argument, and there’s a strange look in his eyes that can’t be attributed to liquor. It’s mock-serious, almost playful paired with his little sly smile. He thinks for a moment that Jon’s going to lean in and kiss him but instead he gets up from the sofa in a smooth motion and walks across the room to Martin, who’s just turned around with two glasses in hand. He freezes in place as Jon gets on his very tippy toes, takes his face in both hands, and kisses him. 

Jonathan Sims. Kissing Martin Blackwood. Against a kitchen counter. Martin Blackwood, who, once he’s over his surprise, puts the drinks down behind him and kisses right the hell back, arms winding around Jon’s waist like they belong there.

What. The. Fuck.

_____

“The leg bit was a nice touch.”

“Hmm?” Jon’s in Martin’s lap, sprawled out on his couch back at his own flat, eyes closed in contentment as he leans back against the other man’s chest. Martin’s got one hand in his hair, and the other entwined with Jon’s, twirling the black ring on his finger. It’s heavenly.

“Thought you were trying to climb me.”

“Well, you usually pick me up at that point, make it easier.”

“Sorry, next time.” Kissing Jon’s always fun but kissing him out in the open, in front of their friends? Was that something they could do now? “Should we tell them we’ve been dating for two months?” 

Two whole months since that night in Document Storage when Jon had finally let his guard down. When Martin had held him in his arms. Jon was very particular about keeping up appearances, though that all seemed to have crumbled tonight. Sasha rather fashioned herself a matchmaker, and Jon didn’t do anything to dissuade the fact. It’d been nice, having their relationship to themselves, the secret of it, the obliviousness of their friends who still thought Jon only tolerated him. It’s not that he wanted to keep it that way, of course, but it was nice while they were still figuring it out. 

“If you’d like. Maybe it’s time.” Jon tilts his head back, giving Martin a fond look. “Though I know how much you enjoy playing the lovesick fool-”

“There’s something so poetic about unrequited love, yknow?”

“All the more when it’s requited, I’d say.” Martin couldn’t argue with that. He leans down to give Jon’s forehead a peck. 

“Hmm. Give it a few more weeks. Act out the honeymoon phase for a bit, it’ll be fun.”

And when Jon squeezes his hand and smiles back, Martin thinks he won’t need to do much acting at all.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31318724

#tma #the magnus archives #my writing #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #fluff #kiss prompts #i have a little backstory to how they got together in this one that maybe one day i will write #but heres a lil something something #jonmartin secret dating is fun okay #v enjoyable #jaybirdsfall #reblogs appreciated <3

[intercoursefluids]

Marry Me Part 1

Dick cracks the kitchen door open and takes a picture of the scene.

Marinette kneading dough with a focused look on her face, Damian sitting at the counter occasionally looking up at Marinette before continuing to sketch.

Dick turns to the side, noticing Alfred coming his way and scrambles to hide the evidence of his snooping.

Alfred looks at him, raising an eyebrow before walking in the door.

Dick waits around 6 minutes for Alfred to walk out and away before creeping back over to the door.

Soft instrumental music now fills the air, Marinette humming along as Damian watches her with a soft smile.

Marinette's soft humming fills the air accompanied by Damian's pencil strokes.

Dick pulls out his phone taking a small video and posting it to his personal twitter with the caption “It’s so Domestic!” followed with a crying emoji.

Marinette finishes kneading the dough and starts to form them into little rolls, placing them on the pan as she sways to the music.

Jason arrives just as she finishes.

Dick waves like crazy, signaling him to be quiet, and for once Jason listens.

He comes over peeking through the door with Dick before breaking out into a wide grin, pulling his phone out as Marinette places the pan in the oven, turning on the timer before washing her hands of the flour.

They watch as she hums swaying to the music as she dries her hand with a dish towel when the unexpected happens.

Now to understand their shock, you’ll need some background information.

Damian Wayne would rather gouge out his own eyes before dancing with someone.

So imagine their surprise when their little brother stands up and walks over to an oblivious Marinette, humming softly with her.

He taps her on the shoulder to get her attention before bowing at the waist and holding out his hand to her.

“May I have this dance?”

Marinette smiles blindingly bright before placing her hand in his.

He guides her around the room, spinning her periodically with the softest look any of them have ever seen on his face.

He starts to hum louder than before as he spins her before pulling her close again with a hand on her face.

Dick has to put a hand over his mouth and pass his phone to Jason because he's shaking so much. Tears stream freely down his face as he stifles his sobs.

“This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Neither brother even jumps at Selinas sudden voice, instead mutely nodding their agreements.

Dick leans back against his step-mom, sniffling at the display of affection playing out in front of them.

“It’s okay Dick, me and Selina are crying too.”

One look at Jason and Selina confirms that they are both in fact crying as they record. Well in Jason's case his eyes are a little shiny.

The song comes to an end as a timer rings.

They break away and Dick takes back his phone, stopping the video as Marinette checks and something in a pot on the stove.

Dick is about to step away when he notices Selina still filming and Tim walking towards them.

“What are you all doing? And why is Selina recording?”

Thankfully Tim seems to notice the secretive atmosphere and whispers not giving away their position to the two inside the kitchen.

“Your little brother is being sweet and I have a feeling that he’s not done being affectionate yet.”

Tim raises an eyebrow crouching down next to the rest of them and pulls out his phone before pointing it through the gap.

“Blackmail kinda sweet or make me cry kinda sweet?”

He turns back to the rest and sees Dicks face before pulling out a handkerchief that Marinette made him.

“Nevermind.”

They turn back in time to see Marinette finish stirring whatever is in the pot and move it off the heat before turning back to Damian.

Hugging him she rests her head on his chest with a smile as a new song starts up.

“Do you want to dance?”

Marinette looks up at Damian with a confused smile on her face.

“I thought we already did, mon chou?”

Damian chuckles softly tucking some of the hair that fell from her bun behind her ear.

“That we did, Habibiti. But against my better judgment I can’t help but find that dancing with you is one of the finer things in life.”

Marinette smirks at him, her hand coming up to grasp the wrist of the hand still cupping her cheek.

“Well then maybe we shouldn’t dance, afterall too much of something you enjoy can lead to an addiction.”

Damian smiles, swooping down to kiss her softly before pulling away.

“Indulge me just this once?”

Marinette sighs heavily, before speaking.

“Oh alright, but just this once.”

Behind the door there isn’t a dry eye in sight, even Jason shed a tear or two.

They start dancing again but not quite how they were before.

Before they were doing proper ballroom dances, now they just hold each other close and sway. Marinette's arms around his neck and her head resting on his chest, meanwhile Damians arms wrap around her waist, pulling her flush against him with his chin resting on top of her head, both of their eyes closed. The perfect picture of contentment.

Dick snaps a picture before immediately posting it to his twitter with an attempt at a caption that looks more like a keyboard smash since he can’t see very well through his tears.

They sway together for a long while before a second timer sounds.

They break apart, albeit reluctantly, and Marinette pulls the tray from the oven before carrying it over to the counter and switching the now golden brown buns to a cooling rack.

Since she is now facing the door the brothers plus Selina have a perfect view of Damians face from where he stands behind her.

Dick, now coherent enough to take pictures without them being blurry, lets the others film as he takes another picture. Posting it again to his private twitter so the rest of the family can see.

His face is full of pure adoration and love for the girl working in front of him.

“Mon Chou? Can you grab the glaze from the fridge? I need it.”

Damian immediately snaps out of his daze to do as she asks. He places the bowl by her hand before wrapping her up in a hug from behind, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“I love you, Marinette.”

Dick immediately takes two pictures, one with just the hug and Marinette working and another of her smiling after he says he loves her. And just like the rest, he immediately uploads them.

She smiles, stepping away to untie her apron and walking away. Effectively breaking the hug much to their 4 spectators disappointment.

“I love you too, Damian.”

She walks around the counter to hang up her apron, leaving only a few feet between her and the people who are filming them.

She doesn’t make it.

“I think I want to marry you.”

The 4 sharp inhales go unnoticed by the two teens as Marinette drops her apron, spinning around to face Damian with a bright blush.

“What?”

Marinette's voice is barely a whisper, as Damian rounds the island to come stand next to her, taking her hands and accidentally angling them in the perfect view to show both of their faces to the cameras.

“Let me reword that. Marinette, I know I want to marry you.”

Tears start to form in her eyes as Damian gets down on one knee, pressing a kiss to each of her hands before he starts to speak again.

“Marinette, you are so incredibly phenomenal. Ever since the first day I met you I knew I was doomed to fall for you, I just wasn’t prepared for how hard I would actually fall.”

Dick snaps another picture managing to type out a simple “OMFG” before posting.

“You are the only one I have ever been able to see myself spending the rest of my life with, the only one I have ever wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

Tears stream down Marinette's face as Damian looks into her eyes.

“I know that you have been hurt by the people you trusted most, you’ve told me how the people who were supposed to stay by your side turned you back on you.”

Damian sighs, turning her hands up and kissing her palms.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I vow from this day forward that in any way I may accidentally hurt you, even when I try my damndest to prevent it, that I will allow it to be done onto myself tenfold. I will stand by your side but I will never force you to remain by mine. When you want to take the lead I will cover your blind spots and protect you from those who try to blindside you. When you can’t think of a plan right away, or are too overwhelmed to take the lead I will stand front and center to cover you till we make it to safety. My sword arm, my strength, and my knowledge are at your disposal. And my heart and love are yours to take.”

Selina reaches over dick to Jason and Tim, putting her hands on their shoulders as they both cry freely.

“I know I’m not the best at expressing or even understanding my emotions.”

Marinette opens her mouth at his self deprecating tone, but Damian rushes to catch her off guard.

“Even so, the one thing I am sure of is that there will never be enough words to tell you just how much I love you. I will happily spend everyday for the rest of my life, trying to show you just how much you mean to me. And even then it won’t be enough.”

Damian pauses giving Marinette time to let out her thoughts before he continues.

“Oh Damian, I-, but what will everyone think? We’re 16! No one even knows I am with you outside of friends and family. What will we do when people call me a gold digger? I- people in France already don’t like me. I don’t want to drag you through the mud with me by agreeing to marry you Damian.”

Marinette winces, slowly pulling her hands away from Damians. He just grips them tighter.

“Marinette.” His serious tone makes everything go quiet, silencing even his brothers and stepmom's soft sobs.

“There are only two things in existence that could stop me from marrying you and one of them is if you say ‘No’. If the people in France believe that they have any say in what you do or don’t do just because they believe the words of a liar over you, it just proves that they are even dumber than I thought. As for our age? We can be engaged for the two years it takes us to turn 18, or if you want, we can wait longer. I don’t mind. And I’m pretty sure that if someone called you a ‘gold digger’ Jason, Dick, and Tim would put a stop to it before word even got to us.”

He gently pulls her hands back again, kissing her palms as she speaks.

“What's the other thing?”

He hums in question, meeting her eyes.

“You said that there were only two things that could stop you from marrying me, one was me saying ‘No’. What’s the other?”

Damian straightens slightly making sure she knows just how serious he is.

“Death.”

It's silent for a minute, no one daring to breathe.

“Yes.”

It's barely a whisper, hardly more than a breath, and yet it holds more worth than anything else in the world.

“Yes I will marry you, Damian.”

Damian immediately jumps up wrapping Marinette in a hug and spinning around with the before dropping to the ground again.

“I can’t believe you said yes.”

Marinette laughs at Damian, happy tears flowing down her face.

“You asked me!”

“I didn’t think that I was lucky enough for you to actually say yes!”

Marinette giggles again pulling Damian into a kiss that he happily returns, at least before he groans loudly and breaks, instead resting his forehead against hers.

“What's wrong?”

Damian sighs his shoulders lumping before answering.

“I have to tell my brothers and Selina by tomorrow. At least Dick and Selina so they can help me-”

He cuts off, paling severely.

“Dicks gonna kill me. I proposed to you without a ring, and he will skin me alive for it.”

Marinette laughs again.

“I’ll ask him to spare you. Besides, he can’t have me as his sister-in-law if he kills my husband.”

Marinette blushes at him as he smiles.

“Tomorrow, I’ll get the ring tomorrow. I don’t think I could wait any longer than that to finally put a ring on your finger.”

They cuddle up together, relishing in each other's presence.

Dick is the first to stand up, followed by Jason, Tim, and then Selina.

They walk down to the cave, all staying silent as their phones save the videos they were lucky enough to take.

Once they make it the tears start up again, full volume wails coming from dick and sniffles from Jason.

“That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life!”

Dick cries into his stepmother's hair. His brothers following suit.

All of a sudden Dicks phone starts going off like crazy.

He pulls it out annoyed ready to tell whoever is on the other end off for interrupting his cry sesh.

467 notifications and climbing from twitter.

He opens it to the picture he snapped when Damian started swinging Marinette through the air with the caption ‘She said yes! BRB gonna go cry my eyes out’.

He looks at his username with horror, paling considerably as he looks at his family.

“I fucked up.”

#FLUFF #maridami #daminette #batfam #maribat #so cute

[anothertimdrakestan]

Batboys/YJ Boys Reaction To You Falling Asleep On Them

req: Hiya! If this is weird you don't have to write it but I fall asleep everywhere. All the time. So I was wondering if you would write a batboys/young justice boys reaction to their like s/o falling aslee on them and it's all fluffy and cute? I love your blog thanks!"

hi angel! this is totally cute hehe i also have a couple fics ab this too if u wanna read them :D anywho i hope you enjoy!

(i didn't do my normal 8 i picked the cutest ones so i could go a little more in depth i hope that's okay i can always do a pt 2!)

Tim Drake:

- i imagine this HAS to be you passing out next to him while he's grinding out case files

- you convinced him to slouch next to you while you watched tv and he worked on cases then suddenly your head lolled onto his shoulder and the slight vibrations of your breath clouded his brain

- he tried to focus through it the first 80 seconds but when your head started to fall off his shoulder he suddenly became a living y/n pillow, timidly wrapping his arm around you to prop you up better while trying to will his heart back down as it tried to beat out of his chest

- when you woke up you were on his chest, his arm slung around you, and a blanket draped over the two of you (thanks alfred) and he was passed out in his deepest sleep for a while

- needless to say there was definitely a "so hi good morning yea i'm in love with you too" conversation when he woke up and it was ADORABLE

Wally West:

- he'd love that shit at the beginning, thinking it's adorable how you can fall asleep standing up while he rocks you back and forth

- then he gets kinda antsy

- he resolved this problem by just picking you up bridal style and carrying you around with him

- like you'd pass out on the couch with him and then he's like "i want to go to my room for my phone" and suddenly you're picked up ever so delicately and promptly moved wherever he's off to next

- it literally looks like he's kidnapping you (he kinda is) but everybody learned to normalize it and now it's just a fundamental part of life like "op where ya off to wally?" "oh y/n fell asleep so we're going back to bed" and it's just normal now lmao

Jason Todd:

- i have this inexplainable belief that when you fall asleep randomly jason just instinctively wraps you in a blanket burrito

- when he was a kid alfred and bruce would find him sleeping around the manor (being robin is hard) and always tucked him in with a pillow and fuzzy blanket and he instinctively carried this concept over to you

- now, whenever you fall asleep he'll gently pull you out of the strange position and place you on the nearest soft surface then proceed to wrap you in either one of his massive sweatshirts (it's basically a blanket on you) or one of the fuzzy blankets he stole from dick

- you always wake up burrito-ed in, like the sides tucked and everything, jason's usually nearby- cooking or reading or there's a small note explaining that he's off vigilante-ing

- now it's a staple in your relationship, and on the off chance jay falls asleep randomly he can expect to wake up wrapped in fluffy warmth with you cuddled into his chest

- tim and dick have SO many blackmail photos of y'all snuggled up but bruce has a single, small picture he always keeps close of the two of you wrapped together the way he taught jason all those years ago ;) proud batdad moment

Gar Logan:

- gar LOVES that you're down to curl up for a catnap at any given time ;)

- he's content to let you cuddle in his lap while he plays video games, though he's definitely gotten in trouble for yelling too loud (not like you can't just fall back asleep lol)

- he also likes to suprise you with food or little gifts when you wake up, you love waking up to his large mischievous grin as he shows you his lastest find

- there's literally nothing better than deciding which fluffy animal you want to cuddle each day, so far pandas rank pretty high, very close to st. bernard doggos and tigers (which are surprisingly soft) but there's also something special about cuddling gar himself, letting him mindlessly run his hands through your hair while you use the slow sound of his breath to lull you to sleep, safe and protected by your guardian angel beast :)

Damian Wayne:

- dami is very chill about it, he won't necessarily cuddle you and swoon over your sleeping form rather defend you from any incoming "threats"

- "drake i recognize your step pattern, y/n is asleep and you shall not dare to wake them"

- "yes. y/n is asleep, do not stare Kent, it's rude"

- he takes special joy in getting to wake you up, there's a certain pride in knowing he's the last person you see before sleep and the first person you wake up to

- "mhm beloved we must go, please wake up dearest i hope you slept well" he's so soft with you, his tone still deep and rumbling but softer and cooler than his normal harsh quips

- he won't admit it, but his heart does a somersault everytime you do that little wake up yawn and stretch, if he weren't around his family he'd probably wrap you in his embrace and kiss your face until you'd completely woken up from the tickling

- but for now, he settles with holding your hand and gently guiding you wherever you're headed next, giving a loving squeeze to remind you he's always there for you no matter where you decided to pass out next

i hope you enjoyed! thanks for the req :) lmk if y'all would want a part two! ily!

#tim drake #damian wayne #batboys #jason todd #bruce wayne #gar logan #garfield logan #beast boy #dc headcanons #kid flash #wally west #dc fluff #young justice headcanons #tim drake x reader #damian wayne x reader #jason todd x reader #gar logan x reader #wally west x reader #jason todd fluff #tim drake fluff #batfam #alfred pennyworth

[flashfuture]

I would like the comics to give us more sibling media. I’d go off on an Arrowfamily rant but I know that’ll diverge into me being angry at DC for hurting Ollie and his children so good old Batfam content here we come.

Give me:

Each sibling having stupid inside jokes that they won’t explain to the others

Them going into each other’s rooms and walking out without closing the door

Fighting at the breakfast table until Alfred or Bruce walks in

Dick being so much older than his little siblings him using their slang offends them

Jason Todd and Damian Wayne playing agressive catch in the yard as Roy taught it to the boy

Bruce Wayne trying very hard to keep up with the relationship drama. It was easy when it was Dick trying to ask a girl to prom. Now he’s got twenty kids

The kids quoting a dumb commercial they saw years and years ago but won’t let go

Tim telling Damian he keeps accidentally using his toothbrush even though he didn’t

Jason never shutting up during movies because the books were better

Tim Drake doing tricks on his skateboard that all of his siblings insist would be easy and no they don’t need to prove it Drake

Jason, Tim, Duke, and Damian all stopping in individual years to look at the champion trophies with Dick’s name on them and his face in pictures

Dick being amused they still have the trophies up from ten plus years ago

Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon getting furious during the Knights games because Campbell sucks while the others stare in confusion

Duke blasting his music when he knows it will annoy his siblings the most

Dick and Jason always barging in on their little brothers and sisters hanging out with friends because it’s important

Mario Cart getting too agressive so the controls are taken

Fights over who’s turn it is on the biggest tv with the VR headset

Monopoly ending with the game thrown off the table

Cass always winning at poker resulting in the chips being flung about

Tim always winning at hide and seek because he helped Bruce design the new manor after the Quake. He knows every inch of the place

Duke and Damian making the movie room their own personal space because it’s their thing and interlopers will be bodily ejected

Dick and Jason calling Titus, Ace and then getting sad about it because they still miss their batdog

Stupid dares like going down a hill backwards in a wagon

T-posing and dabbing as greetings make perfect sense to Tim, Steph, and Duke no one else gets what’s wrong with them

The pictures of Dick with a mullet being hung up on the fridge constantly

Peoples items keep getting put in the freezer and Alfred it getting fed up

Bruce and Dick having their own dumb inside jokes because they were a weird combination of parents/child, older/younger brother, friends/partners when Dick was growing up

Damian and Tim overdoing the fighting when they both want to be left alone

Texting each other an insult and then nothing else for the entire day

Blackmail never working because they all have a hundred and one things on each other and it would be dumb to try

Just give me all of the typical sibling bullshit that happens. Please reblog, reply, tag with anymore siblings things. And it doesn’t have to be the batfam that’s just who I started with

#dc comics #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #nightwing #robin #batfam #tim drake #headcanon #red robin #jason todd #red hood #damian wayne #steph brown #spoiler #barbra gordon #alfred pennyworth #oracle #batgirl #batman meme

[notepadsandtealeaves]

Jason Todd x GN!Reader in: Questionable Morals of the Cinematic Kind

12 Days of Batmas || Day 5—Ugly Sweaters

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

↞ previous: ‘martha stewart’ who? || wrapping presents

|| ao3 version | 12 days m.list | batboys tag | main blog ||

|| dames day 5 | dick day 5 | tim day 5 ||

“What is all of this anyway?” you ask as he shuffles past you.

Jay lets out a sound that’s part sigh, part amused snort. “So you know how it’s Dick’s turn to pick the theme for the Christmas Eve party? Well apparently it’s ‘ugly holiday sweaters’. …we gotta make some up for the contest, and they gotta be bomb because the winner gets to pick what we’ll be binging that night and I’ll be damned if I have to sit through all fifty thousand Die Hard movies again.”

The entertainment may make you go ‘hmm’, but at least the company’s nice.

🌟 Once again these are all v. loosely connected. I guess it technically starts with Dick, but honestly you can read them in any order.

🌟 Really the only thing that connects them is the fact that it’s Dick’s turn to pick the theme of their annual Christmas Eve party and he went with ‘ugly holiday sweaters’. They’re having a competition and the winner gets to pick which movie’s they’ll be binge watching that night, so naturally they’re going all in lol.

↠ Requested By: Not a soul lol ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: SFW fluff ((but my blog’s 18+ if minors want to consume my sfw stuff while still respecting my wishes of them staying out of this space, they can head over to my AO3)) ↠ CWs: None. ↠ Betas? Nah, we don’t do that here. ↠ Total WC: 1.3k~

Headcanon || WC: 500~

🌟 Jaybird is low-key kinda into this shit.

As a kid he always loved arts and crafts type deals, but aside from certain paper crafts he wasn’t very good at it.

Given the persona he’s shrouded himself in for years now he’s not exactly comfortable with voluntarily showcasing this part of himself, but if a certain overly peppy brother initiates it…

🌟 Well he’s only doing this to shut Dick up. After all when it comes to Christmas, it’s a whole hell of a lot easier to just entertain his whims than fight him.

Yes, Damian, that is the story he’s going with. Questions, comments, complaints? Dial 1-800-SuckADick.

((Cue Dames telling him that’s two numbers too long to be a proper phone number and Jay’s just like “…I think you’re missing the point…” and Damian just goes on about how he cannot dial that number even if he wanted to, and Jay’s all “Dude it was just meant to be an insult? Chill pls??” while the rest of them quietly snigger to themselves. Dami’s v. good at playing the straight man in situations like this, so much so that the others don’t always realize what he’s doing and end up hella confused, and the resulting exchange is one of the funniest things ever to watch. But anyways…))

🌟 Much like his big brother he’ll get a shit ton of stuff to deck your creations out with, though unlike Dick he’ll actually have enough common sense to actually pick up sweaters specifically for this purpose.

🌟 The atmosphere’ll be p. chill.

He’ll grab something from your favorite bakery on his way home (said bakery may or may not be the Manor’s kitchen lmao) for you to snack on while you work. Cocoa is a given for him, though he’ll be sure to provide another hot drink of your choosing if that’s not your bag.

Something classic like A Charlie Brown Christmas will be playing in the background, tho he’s not opposed to something more up-to-date. He loves to hate those hella cheesy, mildly terrible Christmas rom-coms that crop up every year—you know the ones I mean.

Honestly it’ll be an all-around lovely time of bonding over mangling sweaters lol…

🌟 Surprisingly he doesn’t mind it if you take a bunch of pictures and-or share them. In fact he’ll be one of the first to send pics to his various groupchats.

If asked about it, he’ll claim that it’s all blackmail material, but honestly he just loves spending time with his family. Given how closed off he can be about such things he doesn’t always know how to express this plainly and so he goes with his old fallback of snark, teasing, and deflection.

Definitely wants to memorialize moments like this for all eternity. He loves having all these happy memories to look back on.

He definitely has may or may not have entire photo albums dedicated to every event/party that he’s attended, and he definitely will may or may not pull them out and look them over when he’s feeling extra soft/missing his family.

If you ask nicely, he’ll get them out sometimes and go over the ones that happened before you two were together, and the whole experience is as soft and sweet of a thing as you think it is…

Questionable Morals of the Cinematic Kind || WC: ~800

A sound that’s vaguely reminiscent of a knock leaves you furrowing your brow as you turn your attention towards its source. The heavy thud-thud-thud echoes through the space for a second time as you rise from your seat, and then a third, slightly more frantic time before you’re even halfway to the door.

When you’re finally able to peek through the peephole you’re greeted by the sight of your man’s valiant attempt to keep ahold of several bags and food containers. Though light enough, the various handles and shapes makes it all awkward to hold. You can only assume that he was kicking the door in hopes of your hearing and letting him in, and you’re quick to do just that. When you offer to take some of the load he waves you off, saying that he’d probably just end up dropping something if you tried.

“What is all of this anyway?” you ask as he shuffles past you.

Jay lets out a sound that’s part sigh, part amused snort. “So you know how it’s Dick’s turn to pick the theme for the Christmas Eve party? Well apparently it’s ‘ugly holiday sweaters’. I told him that’s not really a theme, but you know how he gets. Either way, we gotta make some up for the contest, and they gotta be bomb because the winner gets to pick what we’ll be binging that night and I’ll be damned if I have to sit through all fifty thousand Die Hard movies again.”

“…But you love the Die Hard movies.”

“Yeah, but not as Christmas movies, babe. Die Hard isn’t a Christmas movie, it’s a movie that takes place during Christmas. There’s a big fucking difference, but you try telling Tiny Tim that.”

Though he’s not wrong, part of you still wants to play Devil’s Advocate just to mess with him, and if it wasn’t for the goodies that could be potentially (temporarily) withheld you’d probably do just that. But whatever it is he’s got in that box smells far too divine to miss out on so instead you let it lie with a shrug.

“So all this is sweater making fuel then?”

“Yep. Alfie ‘accidentally’ made a couple of extra batches of cookies, so I snagged some before I left the Manor. The drinks I picked up when I was out getting supplies; I know there’s a lot here, but they had all these novelty flavors, and I’m pretty sure some of them are gonna be terrible, but they were too bizarre to not get sooo…”

Having been guilty of doing the same during various holidays you can’t say much more than “Fair enough”. Along with the food and drinks he’s also purchased the sweaters that are set to be uglified as well as the decorations with which you’ll do so. As he goes about setting everything up you flip the channel over to something less dismal than the news. Fortunately with Christmas being just around the corner it isn’t too hard to find something lighthearted and holiday themed.

The movie that you settle on is one of those cheesy Christmas rom-coms where the business-minded lady (a big shot event planner, this time around) leaves behind the bustle of city life to visit a quaint village for some arbitrary reason only to presumably have her holiday spirit rekindled and find true love in the arms of a handsome townie.

“At least in this one the chick isn’t already dating or engaged to someone else,” Jay comments as he noses through a bag of pom-poms.

“Right? I never got that. Like even if the guy she was with was a jerk, cheating is cheating. Just break up with his sorry ass and move on. That’s not the move if you want me to feel for her; I can’t feel too much sympathy for a cheater. And why does the new guy never care that she’s a cheater? Most times he knows full well that the girl’s already taken, but he just goes for it anyway.”

He shrugs. “They’re both just terrible people, I guess.”

You both laugh at the succinct assessment, though for all your complaints neither of you turn away. The trope may be tired and the morals ambiguous at best, but there’s just something about the season that makes it all acceptable, expected even. And so the pair of you sit, side by side, enjoying your treats and mocking the movie as you work at making the gaudiest holiday sweaters imaginable. It’s not the way either of you expected to spend your night, but honestly there’s no place you’d rather be.

Up Next:

🌟 Day 6: The Short Second Life of Gregory the Gingerbread Man || Baking Cookies

“‘Noooo! Not the gumdrop button!’”

Saving the ginger-children, one bite at a time.

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2020 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#((Immy does fan fiction: the Batboys)) #jason todd x reader #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd hc #jason todd headcanon #i cannot be the only one that side-eyes the hell outta those movies right?? #personally i'm not a big fan of rom-coms in general but the holiday themed ones are always a special kinda hell #still the season isn't complete w/o them in my house b/c my mom LOVES that trash and more power to her and her kin lol #but anyways…

[normal-piece-of-shit]

Detective? No, Monster

“Bruce, dear?” Selina called while rummaging her guest room drawer. “I-I can't find my lucky cat pearl!” Fear-filled and desperate eyes turned towards Bruce. The look was very rare and usually meant something huge had happened. “You've seen it. I showed it to you and the other kittens today! The one that a dear friend gave me?”

“Oh.” Bruce said with a tight smile. “The friend you always talk about?”

“Yes, honey.” She rolled her eyes. “The one over whom you get awfully green from.”

“Why would I get jealous of someone who can't get a lady something more than just a pearl?”

“Jealousy is one suit that you don't often wear.” She squished his cheeks. “You are so cute when you're like this!”

Bruce broke through her cat-like grip on his cheeks. “Let's just go find that precious pearl of yours.” Selina gasped.

“What is that I see?” Bruce turned towards the door with a faster pace. “Is that a blush?! Oh, honey, you can't escape me. I've already seen it!” She let out a small content sigh as his figure completely disappeared, before following him out.

Selina stopped herself just in time so as to not collide with the bat wall that was Bruce. He wordlessly stared up at the ceiling. Selina did the same. She wished she hadn't. Trying desperately to stay latched to the ceiling, was the eldest child of the Waynes, Richard- or as he liked to be called, Dick- Grayson.

Selina didn't need a telescope to see that he was sweating bullets.

“...It was you, wasn't it?” Bruce asked- no, that wasn't his thing. Bruce stated.

“No! Wait, yes. Oh, no.” He spluttered out, somehow still latched to the ceiling. “It wasn't me! I was just...hanging around!”

“Did he just pun while when he clearly should be worried about his inevitable fall?” Selina whispered to herself.

“I'm not catching him this time.” Said a voice from behind them.

“You're not supposed to enter from a guest's window, Jason.” The fact that Bruce didn't need to turn around to know who it was, both impressed and worried her.

“He was outside the window for the entirety of your conversation.” The coffee addict of the family offered, while sipping his drink.

“Did she really have to be here, father?” Damian, who had popped from the ground- or maybe he was always there and was just too small to be seen- asked. “Alfred only sits outside her door and doesn't move at all because of her so-called ‘cat charm’.” That cat being referred to gave a helpful meow.

“See, Jon?” The most sane one of the bat family said. “My ‘The Waynes are all at one spot’ senses were right! And there's trouble too!”

“You're wrong, Nettie.” Jon exclaimed with a smug grin. “The girls and Duke aren't here. I think I'll be taking that ten dollars now!” He smiled an innocent smile, ignoring the surprised and impressed looks he got from the others.

“You little-”

“Mari! Language!” Marinette looked up to see the disapproving look of Dick’s. “There's a kid here!”

Damian scowled. “Oh, right.” Marinette nodded along solemnly, paying no mind to the murderous expression that had settled on the kid’s face. “Also,” She said, “I'm not catching you this time.”

Jason snickered at Dick’s fallen face before high-fiving Marinette. They ignored Bruce's stern look. It seemed that ignorance of family members was a thing that ran through the family.

“So, what's the situation?” She asked, reminding everyone of the current problem.

“Selina lost her lucky cat pearl choker that her dearest friend gave her.” Tim explained while taking another sip of whatever it was that he was drinking. “It's probably Bruce's jealousy acting up again which led to the stealing of the pearl. I say he's the culprit.” He sipped his drink as though declaring an end to his point.

“Wha-”

“It is a good observation, but not enough to claim Bruce as the culprit.” Tim gave a hum to indicate that Mari had a point. “Oh, and I see you've used my hot chocolate recipe. Good job!” Tim sent a smug smirk to Damian- who had turned his glare to Tim at Marinette's words. As he sipped his hot chocolate, his message was clear to Damian. Tim had just told him: ‘Hah. Take that, tiny loser!’

“And it can't be Dick.” Marinette said. She turned to Dick with an icy glare, so cold that even the sun would freeze. “Because, Dick, is trying to hide the fact that he stole my homemade cookies.”

“I couldn't stop myself!” He squeaked. “Please don't kill me yet!” The Wayne’s plus Jon sent him a disgusted look at his confession.

“It's your lucky day, Dick! Your time has not come.” She chirped dangerously. “Yet.” Her murderous smile would forever stay in their memories, unfortunately.

“I know for sure it wasn't Jason.” Jason's muffled laughter stilled. He had a feeling that that today would be the day all of his secrets was unloaded. “I saw you outside the window while coming here. I know exactly what you were doing.” Was Marinette's smile always this unnatural?

“Oh, come on, little pixie.” He let out a nervous laugh. “I'm your favourite bro, aren't I?”

“Hm. You've got a point.” She agreed. Jason's shoulder sagged in relief. Of course, it wasn't for long that he was relieved. “But, I know Dick couldn't have gotten this far unless he had gotten some help. You gave him tips, didn't you?”

“Tim could have given him tips too!” His words said one thing while his nervous actions said another. What an idiot.

Marinette arched an eyebrow at him.

“W-Well, even if I did give him tips, that doesn't explain how I’m innocent in this case!”

“Oh!” Marinette brightened. “Isn't it obvious? You knew Dick would get in trouble and would take away attention.” Dick pouted. “So you took the chance of no one noticing you to observe how B and Selina act around each other!”

Heads turned around to look at Jason.

“Oh!” Tim snapped his fingers in understanding. “So you want to learn how to act around Roy?”

“I'm out!” Jason grappled away but everyone knew that he knew he wouldn't be able to grapple away from them forever.

“I'll get him later.” Marinette waved it off. “One less person to unravel.” Her piercing gaze turned to everyone else. “Since I owe you, Tim, I'll let ya go.” Tim nodded, grateful for her mercy.

Damian turned to move away from the scene before the hunter could catch her prey.

“And where do you think you're going?” Damian stilled. Of course, he did. Who would be stupid enough to run away from Marinette?

“Tt. I need to feed Titus. Where else would I go?” He just needed a cool head. Maybe he would be left alone?

“...I'll leave you if you let me have Titus for a day. Or Alfred, any is fine.”

This...was outrageous! What imbecile blackmails them for a pet?! How dare she?...But it wasn't a bad deal. Maybe he could fool her and give her some other animal? Yes, that would be smart. He just needed some time

“...Deal.” He was out in a matter of seconds. Jon snickered away the whole time.

“So that leaves only one suspect, right?” Selina asked.

“No.” Tim smirked at Marinette's words. “There's two suspects.”

“What? Really?” She looked extremely lost. “There's no one else here, though?” She gasped. “You don't mean Alfred , do you?”

“Ok, look. I'll just get straight to the point. I’m getting tired and the writer is too.” From the corner of her eye, Marinette could see Jason peeping through a window and Damian peeking from behind the wall.

“No one could have stolen your ‘Precious pearl’, Selina.” She explained. “Because there was no pearl to begin with. The jewel you should us today wasn't even a pearl!” Collective gasps ran through the hallway. Selina only smirked.

“You were bored by the lack of activity and wanted chaos, didn't you?”

“And chaos I got!” Selina grinned. “That was one good show you gave me!”

Marinette gave a pleasant smile. “Glad you enjoyed it!”

“Uh, Mari?” Jon called for her from beside her after taking a good long look at the murderous glares of half if the Waynes. “I'm sure you don't want to dirty your self designed outfit. It's about to get real here.”

“You're right!” She looked horrified at the idea.

Jon rolled his eyes. “Just hop on, cupcake.”

And so they flew away towards the sunset, leaving behind a huge mess and living happily ever after!

---------

Press F to pay respect to those who have fallen at the hands of Mari. Also, someone should help Dick out. He's still on the ceiling.

How long has it been since I posted? I kinda missed this!

#tim is proud of mari #bruce has quit life #mari took titus before damian could exchange them #the girls and duke are watching all this through security cams #maribat #jonnette #marijon

[isisparker]

Candid

[The Rookie - Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen - Chenford fanfic]

word count: 3k a/n: first attempt at a Tucy/Chenford fanfic, so I apologize for mistakes and whatnot in advance! this was inspired by the latest episode as I wonder just how many humiliating pictures has Tim taken of Lucy and whether those are the only ones? also this takes place post- 2x12 “Now and Then” and, well, a bit canon divergence as have you...

~~

Therein -- according to Jackson -- a folder of incriminating pictures of Lucy on Tim Bradford’s phone. Confirmed by Lopez that such files of Bradford’s rookies exist, Lucy reasoned it is all Jackson’s fault that she’s sitting in a bar bathroom trying to find said folder of herself. A folder on her T.O’s phone that she... borrowed...

Or what happens when Lucy steals Tim’s phone, Jackson becomes a frustrated accomplice [and a good soundboard-slash-wingman], and Tim does what does best: taking unwitting pictures of Lucy Chen.

~~~

It was all Jackson’s fault.

No, really it was!

It was all Jackson’s fault that Lucy Chen had locked herself in a bar bathroom, hunting down an elusive folder that legend says majority of young, bright eyed cops lost countless sleep over: Officer Tim Bradford’s Incriminating Photos of His Rookies.

Hell, she would have laughed off the very mention of such a thing had fellow officer-slash-roommate Jackson West not open his stupid mouth and verified its existence. 

(Okay, to be fair, it all started because of a 488 and Lucy chasing the damn kid through a park where Surprise! a pie eating competition was being held and, well… after a spectacular header into the contestant table resulted in an arrest despite finding herself covered in meringue and whip cream, when her training officer held his phone up, gave his signature shit-eating smirk before saying “Geez, Chen, I’ll run out of space soon…”, which Jackson later speculated that Bradford probably kept a folder filled with Lucy-inspired exploits, and followed shortly by having Jackson’s own T.O., Angela Lopez, confirming that “Oh yeah! Bradford has folders of all his trainees’... uh… mishaps? Incidents?” “Humiliating moments?” “Your words, Boot, not mine.”; so you can imagine why her paranoia placed the entirety of this adventure all on her friend!)

Because let’s be real: no amount of sanity on her end would have resulted in talking a few unsuspecting colleagues into a night out at a relatively unknown (well, to everyone but Lucy, who had the foresight to check the area out) bar and pool hall, proceeding to needle her fellow rookies to distract her T.O., and then coming into possession of Tim’s phone (that she had discreetly, uh, borrowed from his person) in an attempt to break into-- no, wait, unlock it and save her future self from potential blackmail.

“Just say ‘deleting embarrassing photos,’ Luce.”

“Shut up, Jackson.”

“Hey! It wasn’t my idea for you to steal--”

“Borrow! I’m not keeping it. Just borrowing it…”

“Right…” She didn’t need to glance up at her friend to notice the disbelief oozing out of him. “It wasn’t my idea for you to ‘borrow’,” damn Jackson, she didn’t need to look up to feel his quotation marks, “his phone, just so you can delete the pictures he has of you. So why do I have to be your accomplice--”

“It’s not a crime to borrow a friend’s phone.”

“It is if he’s your T.O. and, oh yeah, he doesn’t know that you lifted it from him!”

Lucy waved her hand, “Schematics…” she murmured, trying to limit her attempts at his passcode lest she end up locking the phone for hours. She could feel Jackson’s eyes roll as she added, “And you’re not my accomplice. You’re my lookout. I just… need…” The distinct sound of a phone being unlocked briefly pierced the gender neutral bathroom that the pair of rookies were camped in, causing the young woman to do a soft congratulatory fist pump. “Aha! Got it!”

Another cellphone ping crisped the air, causing Jackson to make an inquired hum before emitting a small sound of distress.

Which meant that Lucy’s window of opportunity was closing faster than she anticipated.

“Luce,” Jackson started, “Nolan can’t keep Bradford preoccupied for long!”

Lucy’s eyes were focused on the cell screen, her fingers scrolling and tapping to find the folder that started this utterly insane journey. “Tim loves knocking Nolan down a peg or two. As long as Nolan keeps up the charade of losing, we have time!”

“But that was before Lopez and Harper cajoled them into involving money, Luce! Plus Harper is Nolan’s T.O! She’ll be able to sniff out his act faster than the other two!”

“Well then Nolan would be shitty at undercover work if he’s unable to keep his part up!” Lucy growled, “Just like you’re doing a horrible job at being my back-up! You’re supposed to keep quiet, communicate with Nolan, and let me find what I need to-- Oh my God, yes! I found it!” She felt Jackson jump immediately to her side, his curiosity gleaming out as strongly as her own.

Figuring on a longshot when she had seen a folder simply titled The Boots, inside of it produced multiple other folders labeled with various numbers that an ordinary citizen wouldn’t comprehend. But Lucy knew a badge ID when she saw one and quickly located her own as she scrolled through the column of numbers. Before she clicked on it to see just how many photos she’ll have to terminate, Lucy prayed that there wasn’t a lot of memory she’d have to delete, at least enough for Bradford to notice. Oh she figured on leaving a few (c’mon, her mama didn’t raise an idiot), but for her own dignity she hoped Tim didn’t gleefully capture that many embarrassing moments!

“Okay,” she breathed, adding a bit of levity, “let’s see exactly how sadistic my T.O. is…”

Lucy clicked on the folder… and blinked at it in shock.

One photo.

“What the--?” she gasped, staring at the single picture in her folder.

Jackson muttered a few curse words as he too stared at the folder’s content, knowing that they were in fact screwed.

The anxiety that had built up in Lucy’s stomach quickly twisted into dread as she took in the lone picture; an image of her uniformed T.O., one Tim Bradford, scowling and holding up a piece of paper that seemingly foretold what lied ahead beyond that bathroom door: BUSTED.

“Goddamn it!” Lucy groaned, slumping backwards until her head hit the stall with a defeated thud.

Jackson’s phone pinged a text message and Lucy didn’t need to glance over to know who sent it nor what it said. Her friend’s pale reaction spoke volumes.

“How screwed are we?” she asked, closing her eyes and truly not looking forward to all the burpees that man out there will be barking at her for the foreseeable future.

“We?” Jackson gasped, astonished, “Oh, Luce, there is no ‘we’ involved in this half-baked plan you concocted--”

“Hey--” she sat up, eyes blazing to defend herself only to shut her mouth over his continued tirade.

“--because of your desperate need to prove that your superior officer is either that big of an asshole to collect incriminating photos like trading cards…”

Yeah, if her eyes were lit to defend herself, they were definitely ablaze at the mere mention of her partner. “Tim is not--”she started to growl, only to still be bulldozed by her friend.

“--or, depending on how many photos he has of you, has some sort of underlying feelings beyond the professional that you may or may not be feeling yourself!”

“I… uh… What?!” Lucy felt sufficiently gobsmacked by Jackson’s words. She quickly picked up her jaw, lest she keep it open in surprise. Where the hell did that come from?! She even managed  to utter her bafflement as much.

Jackson crossed his arms and leveled her with a look that was a mix between bemusement and pity. “Three words: Sad, Drunk Lucy.” 

Lucy blinked up at him, genuinely confused save for the gnawing piece of her gut that says there is truth to his words. “Jackson, I…”

Jackson’s phone thrilled, interrupting whatever excuse seemed to want to slip from Lucy’s mouth. She had never been more grateful for it, especially as he reacted to whomever was on the other end, giving tense responses to them until he hung up. He regarded Lucy, more resigned than anything. “That was Lopez. She talked Tim into giving you a five minute reprieve before he barged in here demanding his phone back. She suggests we take it.”

“We?” Lucy echoed his reply, this time with mirth versus his own frustration. She looked down at Tim’s phone, fiddling with it nervously. “She called to save your ass, West. I think you should take it and leave me to my punishment.” Lucy heard Jackson’s steps reluctantly head towards the door. Her mind was already shuffling through various thoughts before she realized that the heavy sigh she heard wasn’t her own but from Jackson. She looked up, surprised to see him with his back resolutely against the door. He had his head tilt, curious, as he said, “You didn’t know.”

“Know what, Jackson?”

With a small smile, “That Tim Bradford and his -- quote -- ‘frustrating smirk that I don’t know whether to kiss or smack off his handsome face’ was the cause of Sad, Drunk Lucy.”

Lucy felt herself flush and knew immediately that the crush she had for her T.O., the man that had not too long ago literally pulled her up and out from a grave into light, wasn’t hidden quite as much as she had thought. Oh her mother would have a field day that she was susceptible to the Savior Complex!

She nodded her head sadly, “I was… slightly… aware of my crush on Bradford.” Lucy gave her friend a determined look, “It’s just a small thing, Jackson. Unrequited and easily managed.”

When Jackson snorted at her last few words, she narrowed her gaze and implored for an explanation. The man shook his own head, refusing to utter another word. Lucy stood up, about to demand for him to explain himself when Jackson gripped the door knob and said, “I’m going to do you a favor, Luce, and buy you some more time.”

Confused, “What? More time? For what?”

“To look for your folder.”

Lucy scoffed, holding up Tim’s phone. “But there is no folder, remember? This was yet another one of his stupid Tim Bradford tests! One that I failed, by the way!”

Jackson gave her a knowing look, “Lopez said that she saw it. But that it’s not what you think it is.” He opened the door slightly and proceeded to set the lock before he turned and added, “I can probably hold him back for another five minutes, Luce, but then I’m afraid he’ll end up kicking the door down.” He winked, “Good luck,” before disappearing from her sight.

What? The folder wasn’t what she thought it was? What was she to make of that?!

Lucy scrolled through the folders in The Boots, nodding as she concluded that she wasn’t mistaking them for other than badge numbers-- Wait a sec… She paused at a sequence that screamed out in haunting familiarity.

12919

Her hand unconsciously ghosted over a spot on the lower left side of her body. No. No... He wouldn’t. There is no way he’d use those numbers! No way that he’d use that particular date as a label to a folder of her most humiliating moments on the job! Tim wouldn’t be so cruel!

Lucy’s hands shook as she opened the folder, only to find to her dismay that it was indeed filled with pictures of her! She perused through, noting all the various moments of hilarity at her expense, and trying her best to remain calm and refrain from wanting to kick her T.O’s ass! Oh, she really didn’t need an extra five minutes, especially with her sudden urge to punch Tim’s face, no matter how infuriatingly handsome he is!

She intended to close the folder, the desire to verbally assault Bradford so strong, when her eyes caught a few abnormalities to her supposed gallery of shame. One was the photo they took at the hospital with the young boy that those two Instagramers had harangued. Another photo was of the two of them when Tim had gotten his commendation. There were a few more group pics scattered throughout and with the common trait being of the two of them sitting or standing next to each other.

And then there were the pictures that Lucy wasn’t aware had been taken of her! Some of them were taken in their shop, angled almost as if he had taken his phone from his pocket and took it with ninja-like discretion. Lucy noted that she was mostly gazing out the window in those pictures. A few had the light of the California sun emit a soft glow to her profile. Another batch of those had the shadows of the night sky cast around but never swallowing her. There was one that was taken while she was studying up on codes in the break room. A hard look of concentration with a hint of quirkiness when she had a pencil dangling from her lips. One picture had her talking with Nolan before roll call, her eyes sparkled as she was caught mid-laugh. Another picture was taken while they had answered a call near an animal shelter. Lucy couldn’t believe her luck when she talked Tim into letting her take a minute to look in on the canines! She must have been so enamored with the little creatures that her partner snuck a photo of her joy while she was cooing at one of the fur babies. On and on the different shots of her ranged; beyond the laughable moments to more delicate and lovely candids. Photos that exposed her in such a soft and unflinchingly human light that Lucy couldn’t help but feel her eyes water as she looked through them.

Lucy would have gotten lost staring at all these pictures had she not stumbled on a picture of herself in the hospital bed after one of the most traumatic experiences of her life. Or at least she assumed it was of her after the event, for the picture itself wasn’t a full body profile but merely a prominent shot of her hospital admittance band wrapped around her wrist. She held her gaze on the band, wondering why, of all things, it compelled Tim to focus on that particular shot.

Her eyes bounced back to the date featured on her folder and Tim’s voice weaved through her stream of thoughts. She remembered them to the point it became a mantra she buried within her heart.

“It wasn’t your day of death, Officer Chen. It was the first day of the rest of your life…”

Lucy mused on that, wondering… maybe even hoping? But hoping for what? Would she really, honestly, want what a piece of her heart is denying for fear of losing so much? She could stop. Just chalk it up to her T.O. having a secretive photography skill. Nothing more to ponder on. She really could stop despite the gallery of evidence literally in the palm of her hand. But Lucy couldn’t help but speculate if Tim himself saw that date not as a reminder of trauma but of feelings that was, maybe? possibly? born from that incident.

And boy did that thought take her breath away!

A little giddy at the idea that her feelings weren’t unrequited afterall, Lucy nearly missed the two harsh raps against the bathroom door. She, however, didn’t miss the bark of said man of current adoration as he called for her attention.

“I won’t hesitate to kick this door down, Boot, if you don’t get your ass out here! Now, Chen!”

Oh shit, she thought as she knew that he truly would cause such damage. She exited out of the photo app and swiftly shut his phone down. She quickened a glance at herself in the mirror, realized that she was presentable enough, and scrambled towards the door just as she heard him growl a countdown.

“--4, 3, 2…”

She swung the door open, looking up at him with her most dazzling smile. With the knowledge that she had gained, she wasn’t at all intimidated by his imposing scowl as he towered over her smaller frame. “Hi!” she squeaked, and wincing a bit at that sound. Okay so maybe he still instilled a bit of fear despite the fact that she knew how truly soft he was towards her.

Tim had one hand braced against the door frame while his other was on his hip as he leaned a little closer to her. His eyes darted up and down her person and she knew it was his way of making sure that she was physically fine. When he seemed okay with his assessment, his eyes pierced into her own and, well, Lucy tried her best to not look as guilty as she felt.

But there was a reason Tim was amazing at his job. “Chen…” he started, narrowing his eyes and holding his hand up, palm out. “My phone.”

Lucy was torn between acting petulant and feigning ignorance or just outright owning up to her misdeed. As she found herself in a staring contest with her seasoned colleague, Lucy realized that she had a better chance at coming out unscathed if she were honest versus dishonesty, no matter how playful an act she could put on. With a cheeky grin that she knew he found both infuriating and amusing, she pulled his phone from her back pocket and handed it over, and said, “Here you go… sir.” She hadn’t meant to add the address, nor meant to make it sound as sultry as she did if she had to go by his eyes briefly widening before becoming predatory.

He pocketed his phone but kept his gaze solely on her. The calculating look he had made her squirm and wow, she was in trouble, wasn’t she?

And because he knew her so well, Tim allowed a small smirk to slowly grace his face as he said, “You’re trouble.”

Lucy blinked, thinking she misheard him. She was about to voice as such before Tim shook his head, leaned in closer and clarified, “You heard me just fine, Officer Chen.”

She will utterly deny it to Jackson, goddamn it, that a small shiver fell through her when Tim used his authoritative voice on her. Just as she will deny the effect he had as he pulled back and grinned openly at her when he added, “Hope those photos were worth it. I know they are.”

Lucy gaped at his bravado, her mind racing as to how to properly respond to Tim openly candid with her. Before she could form a cohesive response, a flash nearly blinded… Oh no, he did not!

“Yep,” Tim smiled at his phone, already saving it into its designated Lucy folder, “That’s going into the Favorites.” He turned to head back towards the pool hall, but not before glancing back at his partner with a genuinely soft smile as he asked, “You coming, Lucy?”

Oh yeah, Lucy grinned, this was all Jackson’s fault, and she couldn’t be happier for it!

~fin~

#the rookie #chenford #tucy #tim bradford #lucy chen #my fanfic #tim x lucy #chen x bradford #otp: you know me so well #lookie i was finally inspired to fanfic! #i hope i did right by the fandom!

[unavenged-robin]

Juxtaposition - 3

Part 1 + Part 2

Tim hadn’t meant anything by it, honestly. He just happened to stumble into the kid while having a camera in his hands, and that was all. It hadn’t been his fault if Damian was too busy drawing and didn't notice him: the brat was supposed to be a baby ninja, after all. Another thing he was not responsible for was Damian being... photogenic. He would never use the word cute, not even to save his own life.

Point is, the kid was sitting there, under a tree, surrounded by his pets - Titus' big head on his leg, Alfred the cat curled up by his feet - his head bent over an old sketchbook, and a look of total focus on his face, and Tim didn’t even think about it, he raised the camera to his eye and took the photo.

Click.

Damian lifted his head, looking annoyed but not surprised. So maybe he had known about Tim being there. Maybe he just hadn’t care enough.

“Taking photos of people without their explicit consent is a felony, Drake”, he said, narrowing his eyes at Tim. “I could report you and have you arrested.”

Tim snorted and plopped down on the grass in front of the kid.

It was such a beautiful day. The sun was warm over the skin and the wind was like a gentle caress on the face. Even the colors looked like they were happy to exist; they were so intense they seemed to vibrate under his stare: the blue was so blue the sky could’ve very well been the ocean, the green was so green the whole garden could’ve been just one, giant new leaf of a young tree.

And Damian, Damian was a spot of red and black in all that green, like a tiny ladybug resting in the grass, and his eyes were also the greenest green Tim had seen for a while. He had smiled at the kid with a contented heart.

“You happen to be a minor, brat”, he reminded him with a bit of teasing in his voice. “And I'm listed as one of your legal guardians. That means that, until you're eighteen, I can pretty much do whatever I want with you.”

Damian looked up from his sketchbook to squint at him. His cheeks were sun-kissed and his nose was getting too red under the warm light of the afternoon, and Tim remembers how in that moment he had the sudden, shattering realization that he felt a not insignificant amount of affection for his brother. And that had not been the only time he’s ever felt that way, but it had perhaps been the first one.

Damian had dismissed him without a second thought.

“You are not my legal guardian.”

“I am too.”

The words stayed there for a moment, lingering between them, then Damian had frowned at him, out of curiosity more than outrage, Tim thought, as he choose to believe him.

“Why?”, he asked.

Tim turned his eyes away, lifting his face to observe the branches of the tree above them swaying slowly in the wind. He didn’t want to ruin the quiet.

“Because this family is a mess and Bruce wants to be sure that, if he decides to go take another stroll in the past again, you won't be left on your own”, he explained anyway. It was both a surreal and a serious affair, and they both knew it.

Damian had considered it for a moment, gnawing pensively at the tip of his pencil.

“I won't be left with you anyway”, he decided with a shrug. “You would have to go through Grayson's body to get me.”

Tim remembers how he had laughed at that.

“Yeah, that's true”, he had said. “Neither of us need to worry about it.”

*

Tim stares at the ceiling of his own bedroom like he expects some kind of answer coming down from there, along with a few friendly spiders he’s never had the time to chase away.

That afternoon used to be a good memory, once upon a time. Now it comes at him at night, haunting him with its bitter taste of unforeseen omen, and Tim wonders if Damian ever thinks about it, if he remembers it as clearly as he does.

He hopes not. He hopes that, at least for the kid, it’s not ruined.

There’s still some good stuff attached to that memory, though. Damian had wanted that photo, marched down to this very apartment to get it. And Tim had developed the film just for him, showed him how to do it and pretended not to notice how invested Damian was. That had been nice too: teaching the kid something new, something harmless they both enjoyed. Damian had let Tim guide his hands through the various proceedings, he had even obeyed every instruction with a minimum amount of huffs and scoffs. That had been another good day.

Fast forward, Tim hadn’t been there for Damian’s eleventh birthday, but he had bought him a camera and asked Alfred to pack it up in the most childish, colourful wrapping paper he could find, and to give it to the brat when he looked less willingly to throw it away without even bothering to unwrap it. And of course he hadn’t expected much in return, but to his surprise Damian had actually texted him a short and very formal thank you. That meant the little gremlin had loved the gift. Tim had been happy about it.

Those memories still makes him smile, even if now they leave a bitter aftertaste on his lips. Nice moments like those had been a rare thing, little pearls lost in the sand of the constant fights, the misunderstandings, and the mutual disinterest.

And now the world was all chaos and fragile things, and none of them really know what to do. Not Damian, freshly deprived of the only two father figures he had ever known; not Tim, who had found himself responsible for him; and sure enough not Jason, who had just got himself trapped in the whole mess.

Tim sighs and gets out of bed. The clock radio on the nightstand marks four o'clock in the morning, but there's no way he’s going back to sleep tonight, he's sure of that. Better to make some tea and keep working on tomorrow’s case. At least that’s the plan when he gets into the kitchen.

He goes as far as to put some water on the heat, then the memories of that afternoon comes back to needle him. There must be a box somewhere, filled with the photos from the first film he had developed for Damian, the first photos the kid had ever took in his life, as far as Tim knows. And e hadn't told Damian this - of course he hadn’t - but he'd made copies for himself. At the time he hadn't even ask himself why: he had just wanted to do it, so he had gone and done it.

He finds the box tucked away on the highest shelf of his library, covered by a thin layer of dust. Housekeeping’s never been his strongest suit.

A faint gurgling from the kitchen reminds him of the tea he was making. Tim retrieves it, pushes some jasmine leaves into the hot cup, then goes and sits on the couch. He shoots a quick look at Damian's room, but the door is closed and no light seeps from under it, no noise comes from the other side. The boy should be asleep.

For some reason he can’t explain, Tim feels a pang of guilt as he opens the box.

Damian’s photos are all there and Tim picks them up with a smile. It's funny looking at his family through the kid's eyes: everyone looks a lot taller, everything seems bigger. It's a bit of a déjà-vu, because Tim remembers well enough how the world looks like on a child scale.

The first bunch of photos are reserved to Damian's pet, of course. Here’s Titus, sleeping on the library’s rug or sitting at Damian’s feet, and Alfred the cat curled up on the windowsill. There’s Batcow eating some grass in the back of their courtyard, Goliath with its wings spread out, getting ready to fly. Tim knows Damian misses them. He wish he could at least give them back to him but he has no space for pets in his apartment, and they can’t go home anyway.

He puts those photos aside, and the next one hits him like a fist in the stomach. Here, in front of him, there’s Dick. He's smiling down, his lips upturned, the affection so clear in his eyes. Tim tries to imagine whatever absurd excuse Damian had tried to made up to justify his wish to have a picture of him, and he can’t think of anything, but it’s pretty obvious that Dick had seen right through the kid.

Damian is the subject of the next photo. Even if it hadn't came up right after Dick's one, Tim would've known anyway that Dick was the one who took it. It's the expression on Damian's face to give it away, that little not-really-annoyed-but-pretending-to-be-anyway scowl that holds the same affection of Dick's smile. He can see that moment so clearly in his mind. How Dick would’ve said something like you can take a picture of me only if I can take a picture of you, and Damian would’ve rolled his eyes and then indulge the blackmail with a secret happiness.

He laughs heartily at the following four photos. They are a set of unfocused, very awkward selfies of Damian and Stephanie, with her being the head of the operation, since Damian's arms would be too short to even attempt it. Damian’s glaring in the first photo and openly laughing in the last one, and Stephanie had been quick, albeit a little imprecise, at capturing that moment. The result is a blurry picture with a very strange angle, but it’s still one of Tim’s favorite.

There are a lot of pictures of Bruce. At first they were taken from a distance, and they portray him from behind, or busy doing something else: bending over his desk to write a letter, sitting in the armchair reading a book, standing in the kitchen with Alfred sipping a tea. They all give the idea of stolen moments, even if Bruce had probably known what the kid was doing. Tim could see him playing along, waiting for Damian to decide what worked best for him.

And of course Damian had eventually decided to make Bruce a part of the new hobby. The other shots still have a formal setting, very different from the spontaneity of the photos of Dick and Stephanie, but Bruce smiles in almost all of them and there’s a complicity and a quiet happiness that makes Tim’s heart ache. He misses Bruce. And he can only imagine how much Damian’s missing him too, how all this time apart is affecting him, his memories, his relationship with Bruce.

Tim brushes a cold fingertip over the pictures and wishes he could fix, if not everything, at least some of it. They can’t have Dick back, but Bruce is still there, still alive, and breathing, and living a life that doesn’t include them anymore, and if anything, it hurts almost as much as believing him to be dead.

He takes a quick look at all the photos again and he wonders how it is possible that none of them ever realized how important those moments were, how much they would have missed them once they were gone. For all the unspoken things and the cruel past, for all the miscommunications and the fights and the bickering, the truth of what there used to be between them as a family it’s just there in his hands: it was love, love and nothing else.

He hopes that Damian can see it too.

He flips through the pictures one last time, and this time he’s forced to notice how there are no photos of himself, or of Jason, for that matter. It shouldn't have been unexpected, but it stings anyway, even if only a little bit.

Tim’s considering what to do with the photos, if put them in their box and hide it again, or leave everything here on the coffee table for Damian to find, when he hears soft footsteps behind his back and the decision is taken out of his hands.

“Hey”, he says when the kid circumnavigates the couch to come standing in front of him.

“Want some tea?”, Tim offers, lifting his own cup.

Damian shakes his head no and curls up next to Tim, tucking his bare feet under him. He looks still half asleep, which is kind of a blessing right now. Tim has a good feeling about how Damian will take the news of the existence of those illegitimate copies of his pictures, but you never know.

“Mine are still in my room back at home, I believe”, Damian whispers, as he reaches out for the box. Tim lets him have it, and watches him closely as the boy collects all the pictures in his hands.

“Alfred would never let anyone touch your room while you’re away”, he reassures him, and since Damian’s just got to the picture of Dick, he slings an arm around the boy’s shoulders and pulls him closer.

“We’re going to need an album for them”, he says gently. “Like one of those Alfred has back home. We can make a new family album or something. Show it to him once everything goes back to normal, you know?”

Damian nods as he leans against Tim’s chest. He’s still warm from the bed, and his hair is a mess, but also soft under Tim’s chin. He’s wearing one of Jason’s old shirt because for the second week in a row Tim forgot to do the laundry, and he smells like Dick’s aftershave because that’s what Jason’s using now.

Tim holds Damian a bit closer. They are all trying to pick up the pieces as best as they can. It’s not easy.

“We could go to the park tomorrow”, he adds, because why not. “Bring Jason with us. Take some new photos for your album. What do you say?”

Damian moves closer to him, eyes still transfixed on Dick’s face.

“Yes”, he answers softly. “I would like that.”

#tim drake #damian wayne #tim&damian #my fic #shari writes #Why does this have a third part? I don't know #I just like keep exploring the idea of Damian staying with Tim and Jason while Bruce was all amnesiac and Dick all gone #and look at us now with the current canon being Dick all amnesiac and Bruce all gone!! #dc what the shit

[satire-please]

Take a Sad Song and Make it Better - Part 4

Day 4 - Vacation = From the beach to camping in mountains, it’s up to you.

The Bats go to the beach facing a deadly foe...the sun.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Tim wishes Dick would calm down on family vacations.

Just take a chill pill. Let Tim breath every once in a while, yes he needs those ribs, no he doesn’t need another layer of sunscreen. Fine. He lied, are you happy, Dick? Are you happy? Yes, give him more sunscreen. Fine, smear more of on his back, slather it on, give him a new paint job, he’s always wanted to be as white as the moon.

Sure, his ass is pasty but he plans to keep it that way, thanks.

Because the alternative? Is Jason.

Red Lobster, not mobster Jason.

Who currently writhes on the towel under the giant beach umbrella. His skin a red and peeling mess. There was a time when he declared sunscreen was for sissies. Now he growls and snarls at someone who dares to exceed a three feet radius of him. Only Alfred is allowed in the giant personal bubble, especially since the man approaches with a vast array of Aloe Vera and items to make the burn...burn less.

The sun loves a chosen few. It does not love Jason or Tim.

“Just lemme die again, Alfie. You got the gravestone and everything already. All ya need is new flowers.” He groans.

“Enough chatter Master Jason, please lean up so I can apply this to your dear shoulders.”

“Lemme die. I wanna. I can’t take it anymore. Where’s my gun?”

“Have you forgotten young sir? There is not a single firearm on the island. Nor any implements sharper than a butter knife. Nor a single internet wifi connection. Not even remote satellite will work here.” The last facts are spoken louder for Tim’s benefit.

He winces. Ouch, he’s not that bad, is he?  

Meanwhile, Jason’s whole face crumples in betrayal. “Alfie, how could ya?”

“I may have insisted on the help of a Super in our acquaintance. Clark was quite willing to scan the island several times to validate my request to make this a nonworking vacation.”

Bruce flinches minutely in a beach chair a few yards away. In his hands is a book. Tim swears by Dick’s perfect butt that Bruce isn’t even reading it. Bets it’s a cover for his ugly guilty mug.

It was Bruce’s bags that had to be checked the most….and repacked. More than once.

Thick cool globs squirt over his neck and Tim jerks only to be held in place by Dick. The grip on his shoulder firm. “Come on guys, it’s only three days! All of you could use a good dose of vitamin sea. Plus it’s overkill when your own butler has to blackmail you into taking a break!”

“Using his birthday was a dirty move,” Tim mutters out of the side of his mouth.

Alfred slowly turns his head towards Tim. One eyebrow raised. “Was it, Master Timothy?”

Tim looks away quickly. Dick takes advantage of the angle to cover his nose and cheeks in the greasy stuff that will save his life.

“It’s okay not to be workaholic for once, Timmy,” He coos. “Just think of all the fun we’ll have here!”

Tim swears Dick and Alfred must have planned this. Planned to use the butler’s birthday as an excuse, to spring a trap none of them could escape from. No one can say no to Alfred.

Not when he blew out the candle on a cupcake Jason made and Dick asked (deliberately) what he wished for.

Not when the man’s eyes grew soft and wistful. His words so quiet that no one dared interrupt with a breath.

No one rejected that request. No one.

They’re all distracted when loud laughter bursts from near the umbrella. Stephanie points a dainty finger at him and snickers, “Oh my gosh, Tim. Dick can stop now. The beacons are lit, Gondor calls for aid!” Tim scowls and Dick just works on his forehead.

Besides her, Cass nods with approval under a wide brim. The sunhat is huge, but armor takes many forms. “Look good.” She gives him a thumb up.

“Thanks, Cass. Shut it, Steph.”

She just snickers harder, “No can do, ex-boyfriend. You’re just jealous you can’t tan...like me.” She motions to miles of silky bronze skin. Steph does have the best beach body. She’s even wearing a yellow polka-dot bikini. Tim isn’t jealous...much. Just annoyed when he shifts and more sand sticks to his oily ankles. “But don’t worry, you’re the still the ‘fairest’ one of all.”

He should throw sand at her.

“There! All done.” Dick cheerfully beams, “What should we do first?”

“Bury annoying girls in the sand?”

Steph sticks her tongue at him.

“No. Tim. Remember when you tried to do that to Damian?”

Oh, yeah. Tim remembers that. He thought he was going to die. Damian proved that he has more stamina than him. The boy used to this heat, and almost chased him up a coconut tree. Speaking of, where was the assassin child?

“Father?”

Oh. There. But Tim notices something off about the kid. It’s not the bucket in hand, a small shovel inside. It’s the way he swings it slightly, almost hesitant.

“May I offer a suggestion on possible activities?” He asks. His eyes dart to the side, unable to look at anyone directly.

Everyone waits for Bruce’s answer. If he makes the wrong one, guess there will be someone to bury in the sand.

“Go on, Damian. What is it?”

“There are tidepools further up the shore, we could scavenge and classify possible specimen together.”

Cass perks up. “Tidepools?” she echoes.

“That’s a wonderful idea, Dami!” Damian bounces over to him, Damian dodges the first hug but isn’t fast enough to dodge the second. “I don’t think Cass has ever seen those. We’ll look at sea urchins–”

“You can eat those, you know.”

“Ewwwww, gross Tim,” grouses Steph.

“–play with the starfish. Later we can hunt for sand crabs and ohhhhhh poke at anemones. Maybe even find something for Jason, since he’s stuck–”

“In Hell.” Jay hisses. “Where I belong. Now go get me something pretty. And a book. Bruce gimme your book.”

“So let’s all go now. We need to seas the day!” Dick jokes. But his tone has an edge though, one that books no questions.

“Fine. It is a great suggestion, Damian.” Bruce gives his youngest a small smile. The boy's lips twist in a tiny one back at him. A real one. Not a smirk, but a shy thing he covers with a hand. The Bat stands and tosses the book to Jason and leans to take the pail. “Let’s go.”

Alfred just watches them leave all content. This may be one of his best presents yet. Perhaps it is a request he shall have to make it again.

And again.

And again.  

#BatfamBigBang #Batfam Big Bang #beach episode #my writing #back to fluff #lots of fluff #batfamily

[fidothefinch]

Unauthorized Understudy: Chapter 3

Ao3

First chapter / Previous chapter / Next chapter

It had been two days.

Two days without a trace of Damian. No flashes of color in the shadows at night. Nobody leaving treats where the cat or the dog or the cow could find them.

Dick had initially assumed Damian’s hot-headedness and desperation to prove himself a hero had spurred him to go after the blackmailer himself, but after so long without contact, the seed of worry in his gut had grown into a stone. Damian was a smart kid, when he stopped to think. He would have figured out the blackmailer was an inside job.

And Dick had thought he was getting through to him; Damian was responding to routine and a constant stream of support with calm. It didn’t make sense for him to run off like that.

Two days.

He rubbed his eyes when they started to sting from staring at the computer so long. He had complied a list of the information he had. Tim had always joked it was like reading Nancy Drew’s notebook, but Dick needed something to focus all the thoughts racing in his head.

One: Damian was upset about being sent away. He was known for running off on his own to prove himself. He probably went after the blackmailer.

Two: He hadn’t been seen since.

Dick’s eyes traced over that line several times. The tracking devices installed in the Robin suit had gone offline, along with the comms. He almost regretted not implanting one in Damian the way that Bruce had insisted on one in himself, but that was a breach of trust Damian wouldn’t come back from, he was sure.

Batman had ‘interviewed’ the usual suspects and had eyes and ears on the underground. Nobody had seen or heard anything. It meant Robin was being kept on the down-low. Or that the criminals were more scared of the perp than they were of Batman.

Both options were bad.

Three: The last person to see Robin was Michael Heymann, Gordon’s new bodyguard.

He had reviewed the security footage of the police precinct. There was footage of Robin slipping up the steps to the roof, and of Heymann following a few seconds after. There were no cameras on the roof, because the relationship between the commissioner and the vigilantes were still, technically, illegal. There was no way to confirm which direction he ran.

All signs pointed toward the blackmailer having Robin. But for all of the bluster in the notes, the criminal had yet to act on any threats. And how would kidnapping Robin help? The kid was too troublesome to be held as ransom. The best Dick could surmise was that Robin had figured out who the blackmailer was and was being held so he wouldn’t reveal the information.

It would be easier to kill a witness. Dick tried not to dwell on that.

He almost wanted to believe the kid was with his mother. At least then, he knew he wasn’t dead. But Talia was anything but subtle; if she had Damian, Dick would know by now.

He had Alfred spread the gossip he had the flu to get away with spending the day in the Batcave, searching radio frequencies and security footage for even a glimpse of the familiar uniform. He spent his nights under the cowl searching the city for signs of his young sidekick.

Two days. The likelihood of finding a victim of kidnapping dropped exponentially after the first twenty-four hours, a fact that echoed in the back of his head while he reread his notes with blurry eyes.

“It is time you got some rest,” Alfred said, stepping behind Dick with a tray of tea.

Dick blinked for the first time in what must have been several minutes. He pushed back from the Batcomputer to rest them on the dim-lit Cave. “I have to be missing something.”

“You must have memorized the footage and reports by now. The Batcomputer can continue searching for Master Damian’s tracking signal and the feed from the security cameras without rest. You cannot.”

Dick smiled unhappily. “You’re right.” He stood, cracking his back (and his hips, and his shoulders, and his knees—he should work more breaks into his investigations). “How did Bruce manage to get anything done?”

Alfred’s mustache twitched. “I drugged his tea. On occasion.”

Dick’s smile got a little more genuine around the edges, but quickly fell again. “I’ll take two hours.”

“Three.”

Dick eyed that tray that Alfred had brought down. He wasn’t Bruce; he knew better than to argue. “Fine. Three hours.” He combed his fingers through his hair. “If the computer finds anything—”

“I will tell you as soon as you wake.” Dick opened his mouth to protest, but Alfred cut him off again. “You will be no use to the boy otherwise.”

Dick snapped his mouth shut. His eyes closed as he nodded in agreement. He turned to leave.

“Master Richard,” Alfred called. “Do not let your worry consume you. Master Damian is too stubborn and prideful to let any scoundrel hurt him.”

Dick wanted to let that comfort him.

But then, that’s what they used to say about Bruce, too.

It was colder in the basement, a fact that crept up on Damian like the chill through his feet. Goosebumps rose along his bare arms and legs. He rubbed heat into the skin idly.

His feet hurt from standing, but the floor was too cold to sit on. His neck was warm and raw where he had tried—unsuccessfully—to remove the collar, then to remove the leash from the collar, then to break the leash, then to remove the leash from the stairs, then to break the stairs. Each step locked shut with one of those small padlocks that he could break through in a matter of minutes with the aid of a lockpick he didn’t have.

By his estimation, it had been at least forty-eight hours since he had been taken. But there were no windows, and Heymann didn’t seem to bring down food on any kind of schedule; there was no way to be sure.

He also surmised, from the pattern of Heymann’s heavy footfalls overhead, that Heymann left for a majority of the day. He assumed that the man was keeping up the ruse of bodyguard with Gordon in order to keep tabs on Batman’s search for Robin.

Damian grit his teeth against the chill that travelled up his spine. He had to get out of here.

The footsteps overhead began moving toward the door to the basement. Damian schooled his shivering into barely-perceptible tremors and rolled his weight into the balls of his feet.

Heymann was dressed in the Batman suit again, for the first time since the first night. In his hands was a paper plate with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, the same thing he had brought—and Damian had refused—the last several times he came down. He wasn’t convinced it was even a new sandwich.

Damian opened his mouth to tell him off, but Heymann lifted a hand in warning. “A deal,” he said. “Eat the sandwich, and I’ll give you more of your outfit.”

Damian sneered. “How is that supposed to benefit me?” He positioned himself so the slack of the leash was behind him, further from Heymann’s reach but far from out of it.

Heymann offered the sandwich to him. Damian barely glanced at it though his stomach protested.

“We are going out tonight. As Batman and Robin.”

“No we aren’t.” His hands curled into fists at his side.

“You have a choice,” Heymann continued, as though Damian hadn’t said anything. “Eat the sandwich, and I will give you gloves, a cape, and shoes. Don’t eat it, and you will receive none of those things. We go out regardless.”

Damian gave the food another look. It looked innocent enough, but there was no telling what the contents of the sandwich were. The risk was too high. Setting his jaw, Damian shook his head. “No.”

Heymann grunted. “Very well.” Damian flinched when the man flicked his wrist, expecting an attack. The sandwich and accompanying plate crashed into the corner. While Damian watched it fall, Heymann pushed him back against the wall beneath the steps. “Face the wall. Head down.”

Ice, unrelated to the cold room, flooded Damian’s veins. He wouldn’t be able to see if he followed orders. The second Heymann removed his hand, Damian stepped away from the wall.

Heymann’s large hand clapped onto the back of his head, pressing his forehead hard into the cold brick. “I won’t tell you again.”

Damian growled, and pushed back against the weight. Heymann gripped his hair and tugged his head to the side, away from Heymann, applying more pressure than Damian could push against.

The tell-tale clacking of Heymann’s utility belt.

Damian clawed at whatever he could reach. The Kevlar held against his ripped nails.

After a second of silence, there was a small click, and the leash fell slack. Damian’s shock and relief lasted just long enough for Heymann to wrap the tail end around his free wrist. He released Damian’s head.

Damian turned. There was a trickle of something warm down the shell of his ear.

Heymann didn’t wait for him to react. He started toward the base of the stairs. “Come on, Robin.”

That’s when he remembered: patrol. Outside. Like this.

Damian grit his teeth. “Bite me.”

The backhand wasn’t unexpected, but it made the bruises already blossoming on his face ache. The new metal studs attached to the knuckles of the leather gloves made a horrid cracking sound against his cheekbone.

The burly man in the cowl growled. “That’s not how you treat the Batman.”

“You’re not Batman!”

The collar around his throat constricted threateningly as the man pulled him closer. “The old Batman is gone. I don’t know who it is that took his place, but he’s not the real deal. Gotham needs somebody stronger than Flippy-McGee out there.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “He’s stronger than you will ever be.”

He almost regretted the words when the man’s mouth twisted into a snarl. It was not his father’s face under the cowl, or Grayson’s, and it was never more obvious than it was now, when the man’s face twisted with uncontrolled rage.

“You stubborn little shit,” Heymann hissed. He used the collar and attached leash to drag Damian back to the steps. Damian choked. The man paused at the metal banister, switched hands, and began wrapping the leash around a higher baluster than before. He gave the leash a good tug, making Damian’s breath catch in his throat. Locked it in place.

And then he stepped away.

Damian tried to gulp down air, but even on his toes the leash was almost too short. The collar was flush against his neck, digging into his trachea. He tugged at it with his hands, but couldn’t put enough power behind it to relieve any pressure. Every breath was an audible wheeze.

Heymann began to ascend the steps.

“Stop!” Damian tried to shout. It came out as a raspy whisper. “You can’t leave me like this!”

The hollow steps above him stopped. Damian tried to twist around to see, but moving his head only dug the collar in deeper. He listened instead, as the stair creaked under a weight shift. He almost jumped when a hand landed on his head. It swept his hair back roughly, the seams in the gloves catching strays and plucking them out.

One finger caught a piece in the front and tried to coax it into a curl. Damian had to resist the urge to reach up and break it. He couldn’t afford losing his hands again. Not like this.

Heymann grumbled when the hair didn’t cooperate. “You aren’t the original, I know. But you’d think he could choose somebody a bit more similar.” He gave up, patting Damian on the head like he was a dog. “Last chance, you ready to behave?”

“Fuck you!”

Heymann swept another pat across his head before removing his hand. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Master Richard.”

Dick shot to his feet before gaining full awareness. What sleep he had gotten did wonders for his reflexes. “Alfred. Any news?”

The butler had a grave face. “It’s the commissioner.”

Dick’s heart skipped a beat. “Is he—”

Alfred shook his head. “He wants to speak with you.”

Dick nodded absently, already headed toward the door. “I’ll go change.”

“I should have been more specific. He wants to speak to Dick Grayson.”

Dick froze in the doorway. “Why?”

“I’m afraid he could not disclose that information.” Alfred’s voice dropped in volume against some imaginary eavesdropper.

“He said it was urgent.”

Next chapter

#fido writes #batfam #batman #damian wayne

[veggiestreehugger]

Camping w/ Dally

requested by an anon

Summary: HCs of what Dally going camping w/ his s/o is like.

Warning(s): typical Dallas Winston bullshit

-first of all, you better have some GOOD ass blackmail material to use against him or his ass is staying put at home

-I'm writing this assuming you have good blackmail material (like that one time he was so drunk you SOMEHOW got him to wear a pink fairy dress with wings and a tiara, thanks to Two-Bit’s help)

-he complains the ENTIRE time

-*takes 20 steps down the path* “are we there yet?”

-a lot of “you tryin’ to kill me?”

-”never thought I’d hafta wipe my ass with a leaf, (y/n)”

-feels extremely emasculated because he can’t do ANYTHING

-almost throws the tent in the river because he can’t put it up

-tries to dump your gasoline into the river because he can’t catch a fish

-when he had trouble starting a fire he got REALLY pissed because he’s DONE that before why can’t he do it NOW?!

-thankfully you [hopefully] keep your cool better than him and [hopefully] know more about camping than he does

-but it still upsets him because usually he’s the one “in charge” in the relationship

-he finally relaxes after the fire’s lit and then his marshmallow catches on fire

-he throws it down and starts cussing up a storm, stomping around while you laugh your ASS off because it’s kinda funny seeing the infamous Dallas Winston fail at something

-after marshmallows are put away he relaxes again, listening to the fire and the sounds of nature around you

-he wraps an arm around you, cuddling you close, really actually enjoying the silence and the fact that he doesn't have to stay on guard - no Tim Shepard or Socs are going to come looking for him here

-at night he definitely tries to cop a few feels in the tent as you cuddle up for warmth (or try desperately to stay away from him because it’s so hot)

-he’d probably wake up before you in the morning because the hard ground reminded him too much of sleeping on the streets of NYC

-he’d explore a bit around the tent and sigh because he was actually really content? it confused him slightly but the crisp morning air felt so nice

-all in all he didn't regret coming on this trip with you, especially because now no one would see that picture of him

-he would definitely go camping with you again, maybe he’d be a bit better at it too, but he’d never tell you that, you’d still have to “blackmail” him

#Dallas Winston #the outsiders #headcannons #fluff