Mercedes and Dimitri for the bingo :)
I think about them constantly. I have so, so many fics I wish I could write about them rn.
2 notes
·
View notes
Batmom and Jason Thought
Headcanon that batmom acts truly appalled if anyone tries telling her Jason did something bad.
"Jason? My sweet little Jason? how dare you try to insinuate and frame him, my boy, who has never done anything wrong in his entire life." with a glare so cold they accept their own defeat and leave the angry mother alone.
The first time it happened, Jason was terrified of getting in trouble, of disappointing you when he made a mistake and someone was just too eager to tattle on him. He didn't mean to bother someone at the gala-
Bruce never fails to find it hilarious. 'your sweet little innocent Jason? the one I met while he was stealing the batmobile's tires?'
You fix a playful glare at him, not changing your tone and patting Jason's hair while he hides beside you at the party "who has never done anything wrong in his life Bruce. Look at him, an angel."
Your proud tone and curling lips are enough to make Jason laugh too, forgetting about how stressed he was about a gala, and is happy the rest of the night to just sit with you and smile because he's "your little boy."
5K notes
·
View notes
It's a quiet night in with just the two of them - Wayne having already left for work. A gentle drizzle has settled over the trailer park.
Eddie's hunched over at his desk with the old table lamp on, painting his latest miniature for the upcoming campaign. Steve's perched on the bed right near him, using that same lamp light to read one of Wayne's magazines. A tape randomly picked from their collection plays in the background.
There's a quiet 'clink' as Eddie rinses his brush in the paint-water cup (newly labeled after one to many mix-ups). The brush is dried then slotted into the cracked mug holding the rest of his painting tool hoard.
He pauses to stretch out his back from its scrunched position, scars giving a minor twinge at the action. Then reaches for his small, detailing brush.
Only, it's not where he put it last.
It's not on the pallet. Didn't slip under the paper towel. Sitting in the paintbrush mug? Nope. Roll onto the floor? No dice. (Well actually, many dice. Including the d8 he lost last week, he should remember to grab that later (he won't)).
It's as he's pulling his head back out from under the desk that he notices it.
The subtle, upturned pinch at the corner of Steve's mouth.
Like he's fighting not to smile. Trying to act like he hasn't noticed Eddie's obvious searching.
"Steve?"
"Mhm?" The thief doesn't even deign to look up from the magazine.
"Have you seen my small detail brush? Bright red handle?”
"Nope."
Right, of course. Because the hand Steve wasn't using to hold his magazine just happened to be tucked behind his back, out of sight.
Clearly this called for drastic measures.
Without giving the other a chance to react, Eddie lurches forward to push his boyfriend back onto the bed, simultaneously planting himself atop Steve's legs.
"You sure about that one, loverboy?"
Steve crinkles his nose with a slight blush at the pet name. Then reaches up with the hand that previously held the magazine (that has now ended up in the abyss of the floor, sorry Wayne).
Eddie stills, curious to see how Steve will defend himself, as the hand continues up... and plucks the missing paintbrush from behind Eddie's ear. Where Eddie had earlier, unthinkingly stashed it.
Steve's face breaks out into a grin at Eddie's affronted noise.
"What do you have to say for yourself now, Eds? Accusing your boyfriend of such a heinous crime?"
Eddie hums, rolling the now reclaimed brush in his fingers, staring down at the boy beneath him. His sure-fire grin. Eyes crinkled in mirth. How the soft lamp light and dappled moonlight played across his features.
He leans down, hovering over the other.
"I say that I'd forgive you anyway. How could I not, with such a pretty face like that."
They meet in a gentle kiss. No rush as they simply enjoy the other's company. Warm in the knowledge there's nowhere else they need to be tonight. The tape clicks as it finishes and the rain becomes their only background noise. They seperate.
"Mmgood. Cause I did steal your paint tube."
545 notes
·
View notes