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Jason moved the tray from breakfast to the ground and covered it so Eros couldn’t get anything off of it. This was his chance, he had set everything up. Breakfast in bed, it was Sunday, and Serenade didn’t think Y/n had plans so he probably had all day.

You were watching criminal minds and getting mad at the team because they weren’t figuring it out, he couldn’t help smiling at how into the show you were.

He had to do it now before he lost his nerve, gently he pulled you towards him and softly kissed you.

“I love you.” He whispered.

“I love you too but now I have to rewind.” you grabbed the remote but before you could get comfortable again you were pulled into his lap and another kiss was placed on top of your head.

Part 15/?

Recently fired Y/n receives a job offer from Bruce Wayne. Date Jason and run the Wayne Enterprises social media. It was better then her other idea…


Tag list:

@meraki–mei @iwanttobeforgotten @audioshoes @fuzzycloudsz @fandomsaremylifeline @fake-id-69 @annoylinglyaries @huskygreatdane @rainbowmagicpixecorn @multifandomdoodles121 @firstpieplaidturtle @otchae @scentedfriendmakerzine @this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms @loxbbg @shadyfox242 @thesuitelifeofafangirl @batlover1303 @ironspiderstark @dybalalover10 @thebloodrobin @babybatjason @mykuronekome @ximaginx @selenaloveheart2 @grey-water-colors @walkingdiaryforhumanity @wordsfromshona @lexyartem @isthataladybag @mili1337 @thatguppienamedbae @spoonful-of-sugar8 @electro-ty @cipheress-to-k-pop @distressedearie @darkqueenhyde @miniarchangel @lyralefay

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Proudest moments

Batsis!reader: wait. You killed the joker ????

Dick: *sighs* not my proudest moment

Jason: you clearly have no taste in moments.

Batsis!reader: what was your proudest moment?

Jason: when I died.

Batsis!reader & Dick: dude.

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pandemic headcanon time!


by the sixth day, dick was starting to lose his mind in his apartment, and thought, “fuck it, I’m quarantining at the manor” so he showed up, in the same ratty t shirt and board shorts he’d been wearing for a week. alfred just sighed and opened the door for him to come in. he managed to dig up his robin themed fidget spinner he’d bought years ago, and constantly flicks it around. he’ll do anything to avoid the slightest boredom: walks on his hands, flips over anything he can, the smaller the space the better. he hasn’t had a vacation or break in years. he’s not used to do doing nothing. he hates it. every fiber of his being wants to punch someone in the face just to feel something. he decides the best way to quell the boredom is to pester his siblings. it’s gotten so bad that now, if he enters a room full of them, they’ll all scatter faster than he can blink.


he’s an animal crossing quarantiner. you can fight me on this. and he has a weird obsession with red’s fake art. in fact, he’s picked up painting as something to fill time and will replicate the fake famous paintings. bruce thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world, and when damian throws his paintings away after finishing (he doesn’t care about them that much) bruce always swipes them and hangs them up and tweets about it. damian also is a little bit on the germ-freak side. not a lot, but the situation makes him uncomfortable. if anyone has to go outside he insists on masks and bringing hand sanitizer and staying at least seven feet apart. otherwise he’s been pretty chill.


bruce, like dick, doesn’t like being cooped up but can at least function. his kids have noticed that he spends just a little too much time on twitter nowadays though. he likes playing games at dinner like “would you rather”, but always takes it so seriously that no one else can really enjoy them. he’s slowly falling out of his work out routine. he ate cheese puffs for the first time because of jason. he hasn’t had time to read a book for fun in years, and now he’s going through stacks of them. he takes them out of tim’s room or orders them online. he’ll sit outside or in his office and read for hours. the cutest thing is when tim and bruce have both read the same one and they talk about. they’ll have full discourse about characters and plot points and arcs and sometimes even get into arguments. it’s pretty entertaining to watch.


tim is, well, he’s definitely found a way to spend his time. if you walk into his room you’ll find three different boards tacked up on the walls. newpaper cutouts and prints and pictures pinned with red string on each of them. he hacked into the gcpd database and is pulling out a whole bunch of cold cases. he’s literally already solved one and called the victim’s family about it. out of all of them he’s probably broken the lockdown rules the most because his cases have required him to sometimes go out and look for people, places, etc. but he does most of it remotely. he stays in his room when he’s not working on a case, only emerging for coffee or a seriously needed melatonin. he’s trying to fix up his sleep schedule a little bit, but it’s not really working. he’s resolved to having at least one randomly placed nap in the day, which is better than constantly staying up.


steph got the fuck out of gotham. as soon as word was spreading about a possible lockdown, she hugged them all goodbye and booked a cheap flight to california. she knows some people there and is currently quarantining with them. they have a beach house and everyday she’s outside: swimming, tanning, surfing, snorkeling. she’s embraced it fully as a well deserved break. and lord knows she needed it. she’s constantly facetiming the others, and making fun of them for being stuck in bleary gotham.


no one sees her, except when she comes out to swipe some snacks. at this point bruce isn’t really sure if she’s actually staying at manor. in reality, she is, she just sleeps a lot, or climbs out the window and onto the roof to chill. she sketches and sketches, having already filled up three notebooks since quarantine started. alfred is the only one who knows she sneaks out onto the roof. he doesn’t say anything. sometimes she’ll sleep up there and take pictures of the moon and stars and sunrise cause she likes something pretty to look at when she’s sad. her current thing is binge watching shows. she’s pretty obsessed with a few ones on netflix. she tends to hyperfixate on a few characters for a while before moving to others.


barbara is not at the manor. she’s staying in her own apartment but is rarely there. she volunteers anywhere she can. she sets up signs at the gotham hospital to thank workers, she lends a hand to the gcpd a lot when they’re short on staff and need help. she shuts lockdown protests tf down on social media. because of how big her platform is on twitter, she uses it to post updates and information and just keep everyone well informed. she’s the only batfam member who contracted corona with serious symptoms, but that was in march and she’s tested negative for it now. recently she ordered specific masks for everyone in the family, including alfred ofc, and sent it to them as gifts. when she’s not out volunteering or helping, she stress bakes. a lot. it’s all recipes she actually learned from bruce and she safely hands out her sweets to essential workers.


he has abandoned all responsibilities. the waynes can clean up their own damn messes. he literally just chills, checks on cassie, plays the occasional board game with dick. sometimes he does leave just to drive around fairly empty gotham. he doesn’t get out of the car and still wears a mask so it’s all safe but it’s just to relax for a bit. he’s also invested pretty heavily into some podcasts.


jason is having a breakdown. he keeps spray sunscreen by his bedside, so when he’s sad he can spray it into the air and get a whiff of it for seratonin, softly whispering “beach” to himself when he does. he has stubble climbing over his face, mismatched socks, and is in the most need of a haircut. he’s always falling asleep on the couch, the kitchen floor, by the pool. he keeps trying to make food (and he sucks at cooking) and has almost cut off his fingers everytime. now he has three bandaids on his right hand and two on his left. one’s normal, another is pokémon, there’s a lightning mcqueen one, a bright pink one, and another is batman themed. now he just tosses something, anything into the microwave and consumes it mindlessly. he doesn’t know the time, or what day it is. he likes to float face down in the pool until someone comes out and says “jason, it’s time to get out before you die” and he grudgingly does so, only to go and lie face down in the living room for a while.

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WIP Snippet!

Tagged by @sassydefendorflower to share a snippet from one of my (many, many) WIPs!

“Is there something you need?” Bruce asks. “Or can this wait until later?”

He hears Dick suck in a sharp breath, and a quiet, “Oh,” reaches his ears. “You were sleeping. I…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m gonna…’M sorry.”

Bruce’s frown deepens, and he sits up. There’s something in Dick’s voice he doesn’t like, an odd vulnerability, and his breath hitches audibly over the apologies.

“It’s okay,” Bruce says cautiously. “Are you alright? Is there a case you need help on?”

Dick doesn’t respond, terribly silent, the only proof that he’s there at all the fact that the call is still connected.


Another sharp breath, and then a few fast breathes follow it, approaching hyperventilation. “No, it’s…it’s fine. Sorry for…Nevermind. Bye.”

“No, Dick, wait-”

But the dial tone sounds, Dick having hung up. Bruce hits Return Call immediately, muttering, “Come on, come on, come on…” under his breath. But it goes to voicemail, and does again the next time Bruce dials, darting out of bed and crossing the distance to his bedroom door in just a few paces.

So much angst in this one 😁 Now tagging @crookedspoonfic @gothamtrashparty @runnfromtheak @crumpeting @lilaclotuses

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It takes all of Bruce’s willpower to keep his hands on the steering wheel of the batmobile, grinding his teeth as the whimpering persistently continues on even as Damian makes noble attempts at the closest thing to cuddling.

It’s not working, Dick is still curled up in the corner of the backseat and side door, knees to his chin and arms clutched around his shins, knuckles most likely white benieth his gloves. He’s breathing hard and his pupils are blown wide, skin oily and pale. Drugs—a new kind at that. Mixed with a little bit of fear toxin and a little bit of of something else so the antitoxin doesn’t actually do much. It’s Black Mask who’s encouraged the creation and supply of the drug. Once Batman gets his hands on him-

Dick whimpers again and Bruce takes a calming breath. Not now. Right now he needs to get Dick back to the cave so they can safely let the drug run out of his system.

It almost feels like it takes too long to finally reach the cave and it takes all the self restraint Bruce has to calmly exit the car and send Damian upstairs to have an early night. Damian argues at first, insisting he has to watch over his older brother, but Bruce doesn’t let him win. With an extra bit of encouragement from Alfred, Damian sends a shockingly worried glance Dick’s way before his shoulders slump in defeat and he heads upstairs.

After that, it’s all a matter of opening the side door of the batmobile and coaxing Dick into his arms. But it doesn’t take that much coaxing; in fact it’s almost like Dick was the one to launch himself into Bruce’s arms first.

Bruce carries him over to the medical bay where Alfred helps him lower Dick down onto a cot so he can check over the symptoms. Dick keeps a tight hand on Bruce’s cape as Alfred works, breath hitched but not as panicked as it was on the drive over. It takes a couple minutes, but Alfred eventually confirms Bruce’s suspicion that they just need to let the drug run its course and it should be out of Dick’s system by morning.

Bruce wishes Alfred goodnight and Alfred bids them farewell as he returns to the manor, leaving Dick shivering on the cot and Bruce trying to work up the willpower to leave him so he can file a report on the computer.

“Are you fine if I leave?” Bruce finally manages to ask, causing Dick to go still with a hitching whimper. “I will just be at the computer.”

Dick opens his mouth, blinks hard, closes his mouth, and swallows. Then he gives a jerking nod. “Y-yeah. I’m fine.”

Bruce returns the nod and stands up from the chair he’s been sitting on besides the cot. Though, Dick immediately contradicts what he had just said when his arm shoots out and once again grabs Bruce’s cape.

Bruce stares at the hand and Dick does as well, before Dick lets out a choked cry, his hand shaking like he’s trying to force himself to let go.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes, and Bruce’s heart shatters.

He looks behind him, painfully aware that Dick’s hand is still wrapped tight in his cape, and when he finds himself completely alone with Dick like he knew he would be, he lets a few carefully constructed walls fall in the first time in years.

He steps towards Dick and reaches out with unsure hands even though just a few minutes ago he was literally just holding Dick. But he knows it’s different now, a few minutes ago his goal was to take Dick to the cot, but now his goal is to just hold him.

Dick lets out a soft sob as he leans into Bruce’s embrace. Bruce lifts him up, grunting from the weight. Dick’s no longer the small, eight year old kid he used to be. He’s grown into a fine young man, who even though he’s still a little small for his age, he’s very much still very much a man.

It’s like an old sad song when Bruce manages to deposit himself and Dick into the chair. Dick is a mess of muscle and long limbs that it takes longer than what it used to to get them both into a comfortable position. Dick curls up in Bruce’s lap almost like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like it hasn’t been almost two decades since he was a young bright eyed child who ran out in the streets as Robin.

And Bruce lets him, mentally beating himself up over the fact that he’s stopped doing this. With Dick. With Jason. That Tim was too old by the time he could even consider something like this. That Cass is still new and Bruce is still unsure what she wants from him. That he’s never even thought of doing something like this with Damian, let alone Duke.

Bruce should really hug his children more, if not let them curl up on top of him and cuddle.

He takes a deep breath and brings one hand up to the keyboard and the other into Dick’s sweaty yet soft hair. “I got you chum,” he whispers, something in his gut unwinding with every steady breath his eldest—his grown up and independent baby boy—makes.

“I got you.”

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Hi there anon!!

I think the fic you’re looking for might be chapters 9 (and 10) of Never get you right by audrecritter (No AW apply, Rated T, No pairings)

When Stephanie Brown was little, she would sit on her roof and watch the sky and wish that Batman would come save her.

Then one day, he did.

As always, please send us another ask if this is not what you are looking for, and have fun reading!

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Characters: Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Barbara Gordon


Bruce has too many children, or, 5 times Bruce calls his children by the wrong name.

A/N: this is inspired by this post by @in-fearful-day-in-raging-night​. Please check them out! They post quality batfam things! The first four have dialogue stolen (with permission) directly from the post, and the last one is mine. I wanted to add one time Bruce got called the wrong name, but couldn’t figure out how to do it properly, so… sorry?


It’s a quiet morning at the Manor. Too quiet, with two of his children currently on attendance. Admittedly they’re all here because they crashed after a truly exhausting patrol, but Bruce has trained his children well. They are never too tired to wreck havoc inside his home. 

Bruce walks towards the kitchen silently. If his children are quiet, he can be quiet too. He has to catch them before they catch him, or the consequences (for him) will be even worse. 

No one in the kitchen. At least, no one Bruce, with his extensive training, can detect. He walks in gingerly, still scanning the room for hostiles, namely, his children. If they are not in the kitchen, then they are somewhere else. He has to stay vigilant.

Yesterday night was truly an exhausting patrol. Why are his children like this? 

A crash. Somewhere on the second floor. 

Bruce runs towards it. He knows, logically, that it is most likely his children doing what passes as fun between them, but he can’t shake the nagging feeling inside him. What if it’s not his children? What if someone has come to hurt them? Bruce runs. 

He stops dead in his tracks, however, when he sees Damian. Who is standing in front of Tim’s door, frantically trying to break it down, while dripping wet. Bruce distantly notices an upturned bucket some feet away from his youngest son, but he’s much more interested in the fact that his youngest son is breaking his other son’s door. That is made of solid wood. 

He’s going to break himself. Bruce, with no other thought besides stopping Damian, says, “Dick, stop that! Wait, no.” Why is he calling Dick? It’s clearly Damian in front of him. So he tries again. “Jason,” no, that’s not right either, “no, Tim, ugh, Cass, I mean Damian! Stop that!” 

Damian, who thankfully stops his assault on Tim’s door, glares up at him. “Father! How dare you confuse me with Drake!” 

Bruce opens his mouth to scold Damian, because breaking down his siblings’ door is not acceptable behaviour, but then Tim’s door opens, revealing the boy himself. “Damian, he literally called everyone’s name, and that’s what you focus on?” 

“He called me by your name! It’s a disgrace I will not stand on!” 

“He went through everyone’s name! And I’m not a disgrace!” 

“Ha! You admit you are a disgrace!” 

“I literally just said I’m not a disgrace, you little brat. Are you even listening?” 

Bruce sighs. Tim and Damian arguing is basically an everyday occurrence by now, but the headache it inflicts upon Bruce never stops. Why are his children like this? 

“Enough!” Bruce shouts. “Damian, breaking down your siblings’ door is not acceptable. Jason, stop pranking your little brother,” because Bruce knows enough by now to be sure that the bucket was Tim’s doing. 

Silence. Normally a Tim and Damian argument can’t be solved by just a simple admonishment, but Bruce is going to take what miracles the universe decides to give him. Bruce turns to go. He needs coffee, because yesterday night was truly an exhausting patrol, and he has work to do today. 

That is, until Tim shrieks, “Jason?” 

Oh no. 

Keep reading

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