#..and bruce is there too 😶 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Note

This one is easy because I’m a nice pal 😔...unlike "some people" 😶

Sugar Daddy! Bruce Wayne

Or CEO! Thor

Alrighty, maybe I... bent this one a bit?

Where the streets have no name

Summary: A certain vigilante becomes your personal protector.

Character: Bruce Wayne/Batman

Warnings: houselessness, self-hate, power imbalance.

Please, if you might, leave some feedback :) I truly appreciate it because I've not written Bruce outside my Regency AU.

The streets of Gotham are quiet but still awake. No sleep is found in the depths of the grim city, not for the sinister that languish there. Or you.

You lean into the side of the slimy metal, the rust catching on the stained blanket slung around your shoulders, a measly shield against the evening chill. Your breath fogs damply into the air as the stink of trash curdles your stomach. It's the best you'll do for the night and you're too tired to make it to the shelter.

It’s not the worst place you’ve slept. The alley is mostly forgotten if a little grimy. The stink of rot itself is enough to keep away most. You close your eyes and pull down your beanie, your finger catches in the hole around the rolled edge. You’re careful not to tear it further and cross your arms as you settle into the nook of the brick wall and dumpster.

You’re immune to the distant shatter of glass and the greedy squeaking of rats as they swarm into the dumpster. Cars honking against the intrusion of thieving hands and hollers of the unsober and unsavoury.

Soles hammer on the pavement, close, and your ears prick up as they near the mouth of the alley. They’ll pass by.

They don’t.

You hold your breath as the heavy panting and coughs of the sprinter enter the narrow space, shoes crunching gravel and rubble. “Shit, shit, shit…” the man’s coarse whisper drifts towards you. You bend your legs tighter to keep hidden behind the dumpster. “Fucking–”

An odd flap comes from overhead and a sudden crashing impact that shifts the metal bin on its wheels. You swallow a gasp as another set of footsteps scratch on the pavement, the first man whimpering as the wind is knocked from him.

“Was it worth it?” A deep voice grinds in the second’s throat, “an old lady’s purse?”

“Get the fuck off me, you freak,” the other audibly struggles as his last word is crushed from his windpipe.

An unnatural clunk sounds followed by the weight of a body against the ground. The sound of bone on brick makes your stomach churn as you tuck your head down and curl your shoulders. Just go. Just go. I’m not here.

There is only the steady breath of the accoster from the other side of the dumpster. You don’t dare to look. Don’t move an inch.

“Who’s here?” The rocky timbre slices the air.

You cover your head with your arms and huddle down. Please, please, please…

Footsteps scrape across the cracked pavement as you cower. The shadow darkens your existence as it crests the edge of the dumpster. You remain as you are, shaking beneath the man’s presence.

“Hm,” the syllable rolls in his throat.

“Please,” you croak and raise a palm, keeping your head down, “please, I’m just tryna sleep. Please–”

There’s a soft rustle and a click. A cold glove presses to the back of your hand and folds your hand over the cylindrical shape. You whimper and open your eyes, lifting your chin to look at the ominous silhouette shrouded in black. The dark peaks of his cowl draw your eyes. The Batman.

“Hold onto this,” he says, “keep yourself safe.”

You say nothing as he holds your hand around the object until you grip it yourself. He lets you go and stands, his cape sweeping air around his figure.

“Police will be here soon,” he snarls, “you should go.”

You just stare at him. He pauses and peers down at you past his shoulder as he faces the end of the alley.

“I can drop you at a shelter,” he offers and you turn your head side to side slowly.

You push your hand against the wall and stand stiffly. He watches you placidly and you lower the cylinder to your side. It’s light and smooth.

He says nothing as he looks up and lifts his arm. In an instant, he’s repelled upwards and a whir follows him into the sky as he lands on the fire escape with a quaking clatter.

You hear the sirens and peer down the alley. The other man, the criminal, is on the ground, hands cuffed behind his back as he lays unconscious. You cautiously walk down the pavement and peek both ways before emerging. The bridge isn’t too far.

As you walk down the street, passing beneath the cones of light cast from tall poles, you examine the unexpected gift. Your thumb hits a mechanism, barely noticeable to the naked eye and easily hidden in the night.

The club expands and you stop as you hold it out. A night stick. That would definitely keep the goons off, hopefully scare them before you have to use it.

You look up as the moonlight shifts and you see the vigilante in his prowl, hopping across rooftops. A laugh traps in your throat; does he really think he can save Gotham handing out weapons?

🦇

You don’t notice it until days later.

The shelter cot is hard beneath you as you hide the night stick under your pillow, rather your bag full of measly possessions. You’ve learned to sleep with it under your head, whether inside or out. You rub your sore neck as you lean forward, legs bent over the edge as you rest your elbows above your knees.

You groan, sore from days of sleeping in the street. The shelter had one spot left for the night, the rain driving in the itinerant. You unzip your jacket and tug at the sleeve, pausing at the shape hidden along the cuff. You glance around at the drugged out and dozing.

You tilt your chin down as you brush your thumb around the pin, shaped like a bat. You turn out the cuff and check the other side, trying to dislodge the flat circle. As you pick at it, it flashes red. What the fuck?

Why would he do that? What is it? You can’t just toss the jacket, it’s your only one and it's getting colder. Goddamn it, you need a smoke.

You get up and leave your scarf across your cot, hauling up your bag and hiding the club inside. It’s expendable enough to leave as a marker. If anyone even bothers to notice and keep off your bed. You sigh and fumble in the side pocket of your bag, a crumpled carton with one cigarette left.

You go through the rear door and stand under the eaves as they drip, just out of the pouring rain. You fish around and find your pack of matches. You drag one over the rough strip but it bends and snaps in your grasp. You try the next and it curls. They’re wet.

You toss the packet and snarl. God fucking dammit. You lost your lighter days ago.

“Smoking’s bad for you,” the voice startles you as the cigarette dangles from your lips. You take the smoke in your hand and press yourself to the wall as the tall figure emerges from the shadows, “so’s sleeping under the bridge.”

“You’re following me,” you croak out.

“Protecting you,” he asserts as he stands in the rain, the water slaking down his cape, “that’s what I do.”

“There’s hundreds like me,” you put the smoke back between your lips but pull it back out as you recall your lack of flame, “what about them?”

“I protect Gotham,” he insists.

“Mmm,” you hum, “you got a light?”

“Like I said, it’s bad for you.”

You stare at him and huff. You shove the stick back into the carton and bury it in your dingy knapsack.

“Take it off,” you say. He doesn’t react. You hold out your arm and show him the red flash in your sleeve, “please, this is my only coat, I need it.”

Silent, he makes no move, watching you. You don’t understand.

“I kept the cockroaches away last night,” he says, “they like to crawl under the bridge looking for mice like you.”

“What do you–”

“There was a man watching you–”

“Like you?”

“I threw him in the river.”

You’re frustrated by the odd dialogue, not quite sure how to respond, more confused as to why this batty avenger latched onto you. You cross your arms and shiver as the rain adds to the nip of the air.

“Do I say thank you?”

He doesn’t answer. Again. He steps towards you and you flinch, backing up into the wall. He takes your arm and pinches the pin on your cuff. It retracts and he catches it in his gauntlet. He tucks it away in one of the square pouches at his waist, looming over you as he makes no retreat.

“I’ll keep an eye out,” he says as he snaps open another pocket, “get a new jacket.”

He holds out a bundle of bills, folded neatly into an elastic. You frown and shake your head.

“A hot meal,” he continues and hooks his fingers into the loose pocket of your coat, “a hotel room. Get washed up.”

“I can’t–”

“I hear Wayne Continental has soft blankets,” he pats your pocket and shifts back on his heel.

“I don’t want your pity–”

“No, but you have my interest,” he spins and faces the wet street.

Once more, he disappears into the sky, his cape flapping up into the darkness as you stand dumbly against the wall. You can’t stay, not with that much money on you. And how can you resist the promise of a real bed?

🦇

The attendant leaves the tray on the table and you hand them a tip. It feels like wasted money but it’s not your own anyhow. He leaves and the door clicks loudly.

You hug yourself in the fluffy robe, the fresh scent of the hotel soap wafting from your skin. It’s been a while since you’ve been clean, or warm, or safe.

You lift the metal cover from the plate and the smell of the prime rib makes your mouth water. You collapse into your chair, forgetting all reticence as you grab the fork and knife, sliding the tray closer as your stomach whines loudly. You slice into the meat and greedily devour each bite, scooping up the seasoned potatoes just as ravenously.

When you finish, your insides ache from the richness, near bursting at the healthy portions. You cover the remnants with the metal lid and pour the crackling Coke into the tall glass. You gulp it down until it bubbles back up in hot belches.

You set the glass down as your body grows heavy from your sated appetite and you begin to tremble. You rest your elbows on the table and hold your head as you cry, bawling in disbelief.

One night. One night of warmth, of relief. You’ll take it. It’s worth more than any dollar.

Finally, you manage to suck back the onslaught and get up from the table. You shudder as you go to the window and look out over the city. The view is very different from there. It’s almost beautiful.

You press your forehead to the cool glass and sigh. You close your eyes. Just that moment of peace. You want to remember that.

A knock startles you away from the window and you recoil. You cross the room and peer through the peephole, wondering if they’ve realised you don’t belong. If your money is no good. You open the door to the same attendant as before.

“Miss,” he smiles as he stands behind his cart, “your dessert.”

“My– I didn’t order–”

“Mr. Wayne has sent it as a gratuity,” he declares.

“Mr. Wayne?” You swallow.

“He owns the hotel, miss.”

“I know,” you say thinly as you back up and let him enter.

You hover as he clears what’s left of your dinner and replaces it with another platter and a silver bucket of champagne on ice. You rub your cheek as you keep an arm across your chest protectively. You thank him as you follow him to the door. He refuses a second tip.

Alone, again, you’re reluctant to touch the treat. How long has it been since you had dessert? Sometimes the shelter had cookies but they always tasted like chalk. You pace around, looking at the bed longingly. You could just go to sleep but it would be wrong to waste the food.

Another rap on the door, this one softer. You run your sweaty hands down the front of the robe and once more cross to the door. This time, you don’t bother peeking through the hole.

A man awaits you on the other side, the glimmer of a smirk in the line of his lips, a sparkle in his dark eyes. He wears a dark suit that better fits the grandeur of the hotel. You recognise him from the faded prints of newspapers. Bruce Wayne.

“Uh hello,” you murmur blankly, “I think you have the wrong room.”

He says your name and you wince. You knew you should’ve given an alias. Was he hear to kick you out himself? To clear the street rat back to the sewer.

“Did dessert arrive?” He asks in your speechless lull.

“Dessert?” Your heart throbs.

He smooths his tie as he grins. You notice the split in his knuckles though he doesn’t show an ounce of pain. You smile, clueless.

“Um,” you’re entirely confused.

“Can I come in and explain?” He asks.

“It’s your hotel.”

“I suppose,” he shrugs, “but may I?”

You fold your arms over your middle again and back up, “okay, but if you want me to leave you can just ask–”

He chuckles as he steps inside, unhooking the single button on his jacket. “I would if I wanted that.”

He closes the door as he looks around, “we have an executive suite available, I’ll be sure to have them upgrade you in the morning.”

“I… I’m only here for the night,” you say.

“We’ll see, please, sit,” he goes to the table and places his hand on the back of the chair.

You go to him and lower yourself into the chair. You pick at the robe as he uncovers the tray, revealing two delectable slices of cheesecake coated with a berry coulis. Your hand brushes up to your chin and you tap your fingers on your lip.

He puts a plate in front of you and one before his own chair. He uncorks the wine and saves the bubbles with the first flute, filling both before he takes a seat. He drags the chair closer as he sits sideways.

“Please, eat,” he insists.

“I’m kind of… full,” you lift the fork anyway, twirling it nervously.

You look at his hand as it rests on the table top not far from your plate. He balls his fingers to a fist and grunts as he notices. You meet his eyes and he smiles.

“I’ve had worse,” he retracts his hand as he hooks his opposite elbow over the back of the chair.

You cut into the cake with your fork to keep yourself calm. He watches you calmly and you can’t help a hum as you taste it. He nudges the wine closer as you swallow.

“I’m glad you made it, I know the shelter’s a bit far,” he says.

You choke and drop your fork. You touch your throat as you force down the last few crumbs in your mouth. He takes the glass of champagne and holds it out to you. You don’t know what else to do but accept and wash away the grittiness.

“How do you know?” You sputter through the lingering tanginess of wine.

He smirks and tilts his head. You bat your lashes and scoff. He cups his hand as if to say, guess. No, he’s not. He can’t be.

“Like I said,” he sits straight and reaches to the middle of his shirt, undoing a few buttons and pulling apart the fabric to show a black splotch on his stomach, “I’ve had worse. Comes with the territory.”

“You’re not– you can’t be–”

He pokes his tongue against his cheek as he buttons up his shirt, “now you know my secret, you won’t feel so… off balance.”

“Like anyone would believe me,” you shake your head, “you’re telling me because you know that.”

His mouth slants, “maybe, but not entirely.”

You sit back and run your thumbnail along the creases of your palm, “why am I here?”

“Do you not like it?” He wonders and you flick your eyes up derisively. He gives a guilty smile, “alright, I said I’d explain. We both have something to offer the other.”

You shrink back and fold your hands over your chest, “we do?”

“Yes,” he continues, “you don’t belong out there. I can keep you safe, comfortable,” he looks around at the room, “and you can keep me… happy.”

You glare past him at the wall as your eyes well in humiliation, “and you think that’s what I am, because I was on the street?”

“No, and it wouldn’t matter to me if you were,” he says softly, “you have every right to be offended, and it’s your choice. Maybe you only stay one night, sleep with a full belly and go back out there. Or you can say yes and go to bed every night, warm, wanted, with me.”

You clench your jaw and issue a shaky breath. You suck in your cheek and peek over at the window. You think of the stinking alleys, the whispered voices, the restless nights listening for the creep of some stranger.

Out there, it’s dark and dangerous, in here, it’s bright and hopeful. You’re worth nothing out there, but you could find value here. At least, a semblance of dignity.

“Can I think about it?” You ask as you look at him at last.

“We have all night and a whole bottle,” he shifts closer and reaches for your fork, “think about it.”

He cuts through the tender cake and scoops it onto the fork. He holds it before your mouth as he leans forward. You look down at the reddish coulis and your tongue tingles for a taste. You open your mouth and let him slip the fork through.

“If you do go back,” he says as his eyes cling to your lips, “I’ll still keep you safe.”

#bruce wayne #dark bruce wayne #dark!bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #batman #dc #dcu #batman x reader

659 notes · View notes

hi-i-love-u-bitch · 2 years

Text

I want a disgustingly cute JonDami fic but their both still like 8-9 yrs old and Damien is still a grumpy demon child that threatens people with a katana but put him in a social situation where there is NO fighting involved he just becomes a shy, awkward child that constantly clings to Bruce/Batman, occasionally peeking out from behind his father's cape/pants leg and glaring at people. Then he meets Jon who is a goofy, excitable puppy Boi (much like his father) and who's sweet yet sassy nature charms every one around him. And there first meeting is basically like that scene from Bambi where he meets Feline for the first time.

Jon: 🤭He's kind of bashful isn't he dad?

Clark: Well maybe he wouldn't be if you'd say hello

Jon: Hello, Damien 😊

Damien: 😠*retreating further behind his father's cape*😠

Jon: l said hello 🥺🥺🥺

Bruce: Well aren't you going to answer him?

Damien: 😤😤😤😤 *huffs and looks the other way*

Bruce: 😏 You're not afraid, are you?

Damien: 😳*aggressively shakes head*😡😡😡

Bruce: Well then, go ahead *gently pushes Damien forward*

Damien: 😡...😶...😳

Bruce: Go on, say hello

Damien: 😳

Jon: 😊

Damien: .................................👉👈😖Hello

Jon: 🤩💖💞*vibrates in excitement*💝💕🥰

So then like Jon has this little kid crush on Damien and is always teasing him cuz Damien always gets super flustered when ever someone who is NOT his immediate family is even remotely nice to him. And our poor boy Damien has no idea how to handle it, he tried putting up a front with his usually snarky and rude persona but that apparently did nothing to dissuade the youngest superboy. In fact it probably just encouraged Jon to be even more sweet and affectionate.

Jon, every time he sees Damien: *giggling as he gives a tiny wave* Hiii Dami~ 🥰🥰🥰

Damien, without fail: *furiously blushing as he hides behind his father or whichever older sibling is nearby* 😡😡😡

Everyone thinks it's super cute; the batkids tease Damien about it relentlessly, though not too much, as they don't want to dissuade their little brother from making friends. The superkids tease Jon as well but it's a lot less successful since Jon isn't as embarrassed by it. Clark at first had been weary of Damien's abrasive nature clashing with his son's more gentle demeanor but he soon realized that their whole relationship was just him and Bruce in their early days, with a lot more blushing and heart eyes involved. Bruce was just happy that Damien was making friends and despite his son's outward annoyance he was actually enjoying the attention.

Jon: We make a great team, right Dami? 😊

Damien: -tt- You're a distraction at best 😤

Jon: So are you but I still manage to get the job done 😋💕

Damien: S-shut it Kent! 😡

It's like witnessing a grumpy kitten interacting with a happy puppy and trying so hard to pretend that it doesn't enjoy the puppy's company. Like it's just the cutest thing to witness the wholesome relationship growth between the children, weather platonic or romantic, and such a refreshing thing to see in-between the everyday hero grind.

Damien, getting ready to leave on an important mission with Bruce: 🤔*intense focus*💭

Jon, giggling through the coms: Oh Dami~💕

Damien: 😳What do want Kent?😤

Jon, even more giggling: Good luck 🥰🤗😚

Damien, immediately flustered: 😳😵‍💫😖 S-stupid farm boy! Stop playing around when there's still work to be done! 😡😡😡

Like they'll be sitting in at a meeting along side their dads and Jon will (not so) sneakily pass little notes or pieces of candy to Damien across the table. Sometimes Damien is too short to reach so Bruce, without even looking or pausing what he's saying, will carefully slide the offering a little closer so Damien can reach without fussing about how: he didn't need any help. Eventually Damien gets a little braver and meets with Jon under the table, still passing notes so as not to disrupt the meeting and doodling little stories together in Jon's notebook.

They eventually start interacting more outside of hero work especially when it is discovered they go to the same school. (Shut up it's my AU and cannon means nothing to me 😤) Damien takes more advanced courses so they don't have any classes together but they do have the same lunch/recess period. So they sit together during lunch and hang out a recess with Damien always making a big show of being super annoyed about it. It's hard to take him seriously with his face always turning red anytime Jon smiles his way. After school they either go to the park or the corner store to buy snacks while they wait to get picked up, Jon holding Damien's hand as he leads them around cuz:

🥺🥺What if we lose each other in the big crowd, Dami?🥺🥺And we have to be sure to stay safe while crossing the street!🥺🥺It's super dangerous and scary being alone in the city!🥺🥺

Damien, who has seen this boy take on an entire alien army by himself: 😳You're probably right. We are much safer staying together. 👀👉👈

Like I need this okay!!!😤😤😤 I need this to be so fluffy and sweet that my teeth rot out of my mouth 😭❤😭❤️ Idk if I'll write it one day since I'm busy with work but if anybody has any fanfic recommendations like this please comment and tag me 🙏🙏🙏

#damijon #jondami #jon kent #jonathan kent #damian wayne #supersons #batman #superman #superbat #cute #fluff #smitten Damien Wayne #sweet Jon Kent #can be either platonic or romantic

908 notes · View notes

starfirette · 1 year

Note

LOVED living a lie! I need to see a part two where reader finally has the family she’s always wanted with someone else and Bruce is forced to watch through pictures she sends Alfred who shows Bruce. Kind of based on that Taylor swift song Last Kiss. I want the angst to leave me heartbroken. If you can’t and you have something else in mind that is totally fine 😊

He was a lonely, little boy, waiting for his schoolyard playmate to return

♥️I don't even know what to say other than this is at least five months overdue 😶 welcome to the renaissance...?

♥️part two of Living A Lie | masterlist | requests CLOSED | I will never apologize for Tom Welling! Clark Kent being the only valid Clark Kent 🥹 but I guess technically it can be whatever Clark Kent you want; this post was queued at 1:30 because Star is a dumbass and doesn't ever sleep even when she had class!!!!! EDIT: I just reread the first part. Bruce and Y/n were engaged 😶not married. So I'm going to make a quick edit to the first chapter and if you remember that mistake, no you don't

Mr Pennyworth was a former MI agent, and this fact might have attested for him being a remarkable liar.

Even to Master Bruce.

It was easy to say that he wasn't sure what Mistress Y/n was up to when Bruce mustered up the courage to ask, his shoulders rounded at the edges like the worn cover of a hardback book. But hardback books were typically worn because they were loved; Bruce was worn because he had no love.

The divorce had been finalized for at least an entire year, now. The state of Illinois requires that a couple has irreconcilable differences before divorcing, and any couple who has been separated for at least six months already is assumed to be in the daunting face of irreconcilable differences. The easy part about this was that Mistress Y/n could say that she wanted children and Master Bruce didn't: that was a difference that was irreconcilable by nature. Pepper in the fact that she had caught him in a compromising position and she had been granted her divorce exactly nine months and seven days after she'd left the gala in tears with the vague feeling her whole world on the verge of collapse.

Mr Pennyworth was a liar because he knew what Mistress Y/n was up to-and he didn't call her Mistress anymore. He called her Y/n, or Miss, because some things never change.

While Bruce had always been like the dark side of the moon, Y/n had been transformed into the sun. She'd gained weight: her face was plump and her tummy had rounded out.

Her eyes were alight with a new regard for life.

And her hand was typically intertwined with a man's. One man.

He was taller than Bruce; perhaps his shoulders were somewhat wider, and his eyes a starkly deeper blue. His hair was curly and dark, and he regarded you with a love so strong it made even Alfred’s heart sing.

So, Mr Pennyworth was a liar because he knew exactly what “Mistress Y/n” was up to. She was celebrating with her friends the unexpected pregnancy she'd tested positive for after two years, eight months, and twelve days.

There was nothing bittersweet about it. Alfred loved Bruce deeply, like his own child, but he could see where Bruce had greatly fumbled the ball.

No, there was nothing bittersweet about this pregnancy.

Alfred had been aware of everything Y/n was up to because she stayed in contact with him. Sometimes the two met for lunch in Star City. He was family to her and she didn't have much of that, so how could he break such ties for Master Bruce’s sake? He couldn't. That's how.

Even though he loved Bruce so dearly-like his own flesh and blood!-he wouldn't resign himself to forfeiting a relationship with a dear friend.

If he loved Bruce like a son, then Y/n was certainly his daughter.

He knew that Y/n was shocked at the sudden pregnancy. He knew that she had been frightened at first-too frightened to tell her boyfriend. She had gone to Alfred first, afterall. She was on the cusp of tears; she tried so hard to stay composed on the line.

Like a father would, Alfred had calmed Y/n down; soothed her, gave her encouragement, and convinced her to tell her boyfriend.

The man in question was over the moon with happiness. Not that Alfred had any doubts in the matter. He had suspected the man in question would be rather happy.

It was just a few days later that Y/n informed Alfred she was now engaged, just for tradition’s sake.

There was a lovely little engagement party, and then a small, Metropolis courthouse wedding ceremony where Alfred had been Y/n’s witness. She wore a lovely, knee length white dress with a net wedding veil. She wore baby blue, wrist length velvet gloves, which had actually belonged to Alfred’s late wife. That was her something borrowed and something blue.

The groom bore a stunning black suit, with his curly hair swept back and a pair of thick, black glasses sitting on his nose.

Y/n had briefly been an L/n once more, but she looked her happiest when she was officially declared a Kent. It didn't seem to matter that the wedding was rushed. Alfred had a suspicion that this engagement had been a one sided plan for a few months, now; judging from the way Clark had heartily shaken hands with Alfred while sweating up and down to keep her happy , Alfred could just tell that he'd been planning this for a little while longer than he was letting on. From the calculated respect you both regarded the other with, to the mutual love and adoration, it was easy to see that you had found your true love.

Upon the conclusion of the ceremony, the wedding party loitered on the courthouse steps with the groom conversing happily with his witness while Y/n and her own did the same.

“Won't you stay a little while?” Y/n asked Alfred. She had plucked the hair pins out of her head, removing the net veil and moving her hair back into standard position. “I miss you.”

Alfred kissed the top of Y/n’s head.

She didn't know that he missed her, too; very greatly. Alfred would never tell her that her presence in the manor had always been reassuring. She had been, for lack of a better term, his security blanket. She had kept Bruce happy and well grounded. Alfred had unfortunately become dependent on her for that sense of ease.

Guilt often chewed him away for this.

Bruce’s well-being was pinned on her for a long time, and now that she was gone? Alfred worried for his master.

However, that isn't the only reason he misses seeing you prance happily around like a child in big girl clothes.

Truth be told, Alfred tended to see children when he looked at both you and Bruce. A little girl with her boy, dragging him around and playing happily while he pretended he didn't like it--but he actually did.

Where had the time gone?

Looking at you now, in your vintage wedding gown on the steps of the courthouse, he sees a child still. So wide eyed and happy spirited. You'd always be this way. Always.

“I miss you, too,” Alfred told her. “I'm never far away. Is a forty five minute drive too much for you to bear?”

Y/n rolled her eyes with faux contempt. “I suppose not. But it's forty five minutes both ways! Oh.” She started to pull the gloves off by the fingers when she remembered them.

Alfred stopped her. “Keep them,” he implored her. “I want one of my children to have family heirlooms.”

Struck by sudden emotion, Y/n’s smile fell into a quivering pucker of lips as she hugged Alfred tight. “I love you.”

Alfred kissed her hair one more time. “I love you, too.”

Mr Pennyworth would lie that evening when he returned home. Given that he'd been asleep all day, Master Bruce was none the wiser of Alfred’s trip to the city.

Home was home, still.

The manor was the same as it had always been and likely always would be.

He trekked up the staircase to awaken his master-the one child he still had to worry about.

“Long day, Alfred?” Bruce asked in a thick, tired voice as he slowly peeled out of his bed. His torso was beaten; ghastly swollen and painted with thick, scabbed over gashes.

Mr Pennyworth helped Bruce into a button down shirt.

“Not at all, sir,” Mr Pennyworth said. “Mistress Al Ghul has left a message for you, sir, something regarding the usual issue. Shall I call her?”

Bruce waved a hand. “No,” he groaned. “I’ll…do something. Any other messages?”

“None, sir.”

“None?”

“You heard me correctly, sir. Shall I prepare a meal?”

“Breakfast sounds lovely.”

“Does dinner for a human qualify as breakfast for a bat, sir?” Mr Pennyworth quipped.

“I should think so,” Bruce muttered.

“Very well,” Mr Pennyworth confirmed with a nod. He made a turn out of the room before glancing back to Bruce to ask one more question.

A little boy with weary eyes and an oversized shirt hunched his shoulders. "When will Y/n come back to play?” the boy asked in a soft voice.

Mr Pennyworth’s earlier question was long forgotten as his mouth went dry. “...Pardon me, sir?” Mr Pennyworth said as he feigned absence of a belly ache.

It took only a blink for Alfred to see Bruce's tre self: grown and hunched at the shoulders, buttoning up his shirt as he tried to appear neutral. “Have you heard from Y/n recently?” Bruce repeated.

Mr Pennyworth weighed his options in half a second. Y/bwouldn't be angry for Bruce to know the truth-it wasn't Y/n's sake he was keeping things a secret for, however. Unlike Bruce, Y/n was understanding. She would have been just fine to know what Bruce had been up to. But Bruce was rash. He was quick to judge, whether in others or on himself. It's that reason that Mr Pennyworth suavely replied, "I have not, sir. Did you require anything else?”

Defeat echoed in Bruce's eyes. “That's all,” he said.

He was a lonely, little boy, waiting for his schoolyard playmate to return and drag him around. But she never would.

That's one thing Alfred would never lie about.

#clark kent x reader #bruce wayne x reader #the batman x reader #the Batman imagine #Superman x reader #Smallville #?#how the fuck do I tag this?!#i wish queue well #bruce wayne imagine #dceu imagines #dceu x reader #dc x reader #dc imagines #requested!#starfirette renaissance #starfirette writes

340 notes · View notes

dick-nightwing-grayson · 2 years

Note

Bestie I need to know your thoughts on Dick in the HBO Harley Quinn show…

Do you mean the card carrying member of MENSA who doesn't do discreet?😄 I mean- I unironically love TTgo robin, so my view might be skewed, but he was fun and campy (like the show). If this is like, 18-19 yo Nightwing....i get it. He is a mess and you love to see it. The characterization was definitely exaggerated, but not too far off 😶.

I doubt Dick would ever breakdown and cry in an escape room, but i do think he beats himself up like that and tears himself down when he thinks he has done anything wrong. He also rarely has patience for incompetence and saves his patience for victims, so I son't doubt that he had notes for everyone. Him clashing with Babs and then trying to make ammends was fitting with this characterization. I wish we had seen him throw down with Bruce though, my boy is ready to get his ass at any time. He is always ready to yell at Bats.

This Dick Grayson was just a "hormonal teenage boy" version of Dick, except he is an adult. But the MENSA thing and competing with Damian.... Tim Drake behavior tbh 😬

Ultimately, I feel like this is the grown up version of the Teen Titans Go Dick and when I think of it like that, I am obsessed. Imagine this man with Starfire and Raven, what a disaster

#dick grayson #harley quinn the animated series #mutual my beloved #aks

317 notes · View notes

cigamfossertsim · 8 months

Text

harley: does catman remind you of someone?

khoa: ohhh so you noticed it too

harley: well it is rather obvious

khoa: yes he is a dead ringer for animal man

harley:😶😶

*some time later*

harley: batsy, doesnt catman remind you of someone?

bruce: what am i, a raddish? that costume, those moves, that voice? hes a dead ringer for wildcat

harley: 😶😶

#harley is so tired of these gay disasters #harley quinn #ghostmaker #minhkhoa khan #batman #bruce wayne #catman #thomas blake #widlcat #animal man #dc comics #batfam

42 notes · View notes

hostilemuppet · 1 month

Note

to the x-mas cards anon, i think it would go something like this (i'm probably wrong though lol):

brucandi: a cute picture, a bit big to fit all 15 of them. they're all wearing santa hats, reindeer headbands, etc. bruce & brandi dress up as santa despite being like, 30°C in the island (86°F??? i hate fahrenheit). everyone receives a troll-sized copy (jd's came in last in the mail).

broppy: picture taken in an undisclosed location so dante won't find them (he still appears in the background). they're sitting in front of a fireplace with mr.dinkles in the middle, poppy looks happy (🙃) and branch is trying to hold it together (😶).

fleek: floyd wanted a picture in front of the christmas tree and with matching sweaters, creek didn't want a christmas tree bc it's not "environmentally friendly". they compromised by decorating a tree from the backyard and dressing the kids in matching sweaters.

cliva: a very elaborate christmas background (big tree, cozy fireplace, stockings with their names and a huge pile of gifts). clay is holding penny and staring (dead-eyed) at the camera, viva is holding onto his arm a bit too tightly smiling brightly, bc everything is fine and dandy.

jd: a blurry picture of rhonda and a corner of his goggles, she's eating something (someone??) but it's impossible to tell. he wrote "SEASONS GREETINGS!!!!" in a horrendous chicken scratch no one can read, all caps of course.

oh i didnt know this was a tdau thing 😭 id say these are generally accurate except floyd (and by extension his kids) are jewish. creek is the only on on the christmas card, and that made him feel pathetic so he never sent them out

#ask #tdau

7 notes · View notes

woellow · 4 months

Text

So I wrote down every time Barbara Gordon and Edward Nygma address each other in Batman Unburied

(for normal reasons)

I just found it very interesting the way Barbara goes back and forth between Riddler-Nygma-Eddie, and then I noticed that Riddler uses her name in a lot of different ways too. Anyways here it is, I hope someone finds it interesting as well. (see more of my thoughts below)

E03

Edward Nygma?😐

Riddler🙄

E04

Nygma😉

(Nygma😶)

Nygma😠

Eddie☺

Nygma😠

Nygma👺😰

Eddie😥

Nygma😬

E06

Nygma 😥

Nygma 😠

Riddler 😶

Nygma 👺

Riddler 😶

Riddler 😌

Nygma 👿

Nygma 😡

Riddler 😠

Nygma 😰

Eddie😰😰

E03

Barbara Gordon😌

Barbara😏

Detective🙄

E04

Ms Gordon😇

Barbara😔

Barbara😏

Barbara🤨

Barbara😀

Detective🙀

Babs😓

Barbara🤭

Barbara🙃

Detective Gordon🤓

Detective☝

Barbara Gordon ☺

Gordon😤🔪

Detective😰

Barbara😣

Barbara😕

Barbara😩

E06

Barbara 🤓

Detective Gordon 👏

Detective Gordon 😏

young lady 🙄

my dear 🙃

Barbara 🙁

So yeah.. Thoughts 👇

First of all, obviously, the three times Babs calls him Eddie are very important to me. The first one is used so casually and in such a warm way, like "huh maybe he's not so bad :)". But then almost right after is the incident with the knife. And she kind of remembers that she should be wary of him actually. She calls him Eddie again after the cops beat him up and after he gets shot, so when she's worried about him 🥺💔

And the other thing that gnaws at me is the fact that she (not counting their first meeting) starts calling him Riddler as soon as they save Batman. In a way, I feel this is in part because of Bruce, like she doesn't want him to get an impression that she's been "fraternising" with the Riddler or whatever. But there's also this slight feeling of betrayal, like "yeah, Riddler, you're going back to Arkham, I got what I want from you so there's no need to pretend anymore". But this is of course refuted with the last "Eddie".

Idk in my mind they have this dynamic, where they do use each other, but also care about one another. And in the end it all comes down to the limit of how much they will allow themselves to be vulnerable, to follow thorough on their probably misplaced trust, and how important their principles are to them.

Anyways, as for the way Ed calls Barbara.. It's kind of funny the way he addresses her much more the she does him in the episode four, as he wants to get her attention 🤭 And in the episode six she does it more, because she constantly orders him around. I love when he calls her "Detective", it's always in a very playful way. The one time he calls her "Babs" looks like a nervous slip up, which is interesting considering than in the secrets in the dark he calls her Babs much more often 👀. The one time he calls her by her last name was when he tried to reason with her when she freaked out after seeing him with a knife, which is also.. of significance. And finally.. the "my dear" in the end ...... after all those "Riddler 😠"-s from her.... yeah.. that was a choice

#riddler #edbabs #batman unburied #the riddler secrets in the dark #the riddler #edward nygma #dc #please talk to me about ed/babs #cause my friends are starting to get annoyed with me lol #im normal #i promise

8 notes · View notes

espios-world · 1 year

Text

🔥cola 👹 black 💔 cherry 👿 root 🗣️ beer 🫐 red 🍒 pop 💩 cream 🍆 soda 💯 grape 😜 rock 🪨 and 🇵🇱 rye 🙄 Dr. 🤑 Faygo 🥰 candy 🍭 apple 🪱 60/40 🗣️ pineapple orange 😈 yEP thTs mY favOURITE fayGO! 🫶 chocolate 🫕 ice 🍨 crem 😡 pie 🥧

whoo 🫶

👹 ginger 😈 ale 🗣️ cotton 🗣️ candy 💯 my 😡 faygo 😜

🤑That 💀precious 💔sauce 🇵🇱 👹Juggalo💯 Juice🤑

🤡Crack 😍that 🪱fat 🍭boy 😋let🥺 it🫕 go🪨 loose🤓

🇵🇱Drink😍it👿, spray🫐 it,🍒 whatever 🔥your 👿use😳

🫐Do😙 it up☹️ like🤯 Joey, 🌜and 🤢Big 😎Joe 🤠Bruce🤧

💦Wet💤 it 🎊up,🙈 kid👺 (I’m👿 about 💥to)🎃

✨Moon☹️ Mist 🫐Blue 🤓here’s🥺 what 🍒you 🔥do😍

👺Throw 😙it 🤯up 😍in 🪨the🫕 sky 🌜to💩 soothe✨ that💢 itch💨

💥Slap 🔥it ✨up 🙊silly 💢and❤️‍🔥 boot💋 that 👥bitch💞

🙊Just❤️‍🔥 let 😍it😙 fly 👺JUGGALO 👺JUICE 👺(Yep🔥, yep💯)

💩Into💨 the🪨 sky👥 (Yep)💥

😳My😍 Faygo 💅🏻HEEY!!🌷

💫Don't 🌈wonder 🍠why🚕 (Whooooaoh!)🚓

💅🏻JUGGALO🌜 JUICE😍 (Yep,✨ yep)💨

🪨Until 💞you💋 try 💯(Yep)💅🏻

🌷My 🌈Faygo 🍠HEEY!💋

💯Two 😛in 😋each 😐hand😡

💅🏻Flake 🤭out 😤and ☹️shake🤐

🤯My 😖nutbag🥶 taste🥸 like👹 Faygo 👺Grape🙀

💌Explode 💋in💅🏻 your 💯bedroom🤭

🥶Faygo 😋lake 😖Marinate😐 your 🪨steak 💞and 🚓bake💨

💅🏻Faygo 😤cake👺

💅🏻It's😡 cheap 😐as 😖hell😋

💯And 🤑fuck😍 I'm 🤪broke🥳

😘Fuck 😅three 🤩bucks 🤑for 💯a🚓 cup😖 of 💅🏻Coke🤭 Shit🙀

🤭I😍 stay 😘sticky👺

💯Fuck😝 the 😇soap 😐Orange😶 Pop🤭 all 🤬on🤗 my 😠dick🥺 please 😤though🙁

🤬I 😠mix 🌚it 🌞fix😵‍💫 it 🤒fuck 🤡I 🥸kicks 🤓it👿

🎃Off 🤑them🤠 titties 🤡I 👺gotsta 💥licks 🙀it🫂

💋Take 🧠out 👣the 🗣️fixtures,🫁 chandeliers👁️

👄Fuck✋ a🤝 venue🦾 to💅🏻 nice🤷 to 🙍handle 🧘this🧑‍🦼

🛌Rock 💆and 🧏🏻Rye 🧖bounce🏋️ from🦸 above🦹

🧑‍🎄Knock 🥷you🤑 out🤓 and👄 fuck🤝 up 🫂your 🤒duds🥸

💅🏻Explode✋ and 🤝unload 👄all💋 over🤑 the 😍place👄

🤓You 😍don't 🤑like💅🏻 Red 🎃Pop🤡

👺FUCK 💥YOUR 🤡FACE!!🙀

🙊Just❤️‍🔥 let 😍it😙 fly 👺JUGGALO 👺JUICE 👺(Yep🔥, yep💯)

💩Into💨 the🪨 sky👥 (Yep)💥

😳My😍 Faygo 💅🏻HEEY!!🌷

💫Don't 🌈wonder 🍠why🚕 (Whooooaoh!)🚓

💅🏻JUGGALO🌜 JUICE😍 (Yep,✨ yep)💨

🪨Until 💞you💋 try 💯(Yep)💅🏻

🌷My 🌈Faygo 🍠HEEY!💋

🙀Too 🤡much💥 juice 👺shorts🤓 out 😍the💅🏻 power🫂

😘Dance 😅in😗 the😛 dark 🤪of🥳 the😛 Faygo 🥲shower🙃

😇Sugar 😝rain 🤪insane 🥳Flavors,💅🏻 colors😘

😍We'll 🤡kick👺 yo💥 ass🤝

🙃But 💥we 😍love each 🫂others🤓

😅Through🤡 the 😋floor, 🤪into🥳 the 🤣basement😭

😍But 🥰it 😋ain't 😶wasted,😱 🤬more 😤we😏 taste 😔it😐

🤭Seeps 😔on 😛through😑 to😜 the 😮pits😢 of 😲Hell😵

🙁And 😖puts 💅🏻out🤝 the 🫂flames 😝where😍 the😏 devil🤡 dwells😋

😋Faygo😱 storms, 😶rain💅🏻 an😇 thunder😅

😋No😁 need😍 to 😋wonder😐

🤔It's🥱 too 🤗much😱 fun 😠to😠 just 😮‍💨unwind😒

🤔Put 💅🏻yourself 🤡under 😮the😝 trance😵

😏Pour 😔some 🥱down 😱your 🤗pants😡

😏Hump 🌛it, 🤤hit 🌚it,😵‍💫 get😫 wit🌜 it😩

😍 Bust 😔a😵 nut 😝and 😋be🤡 geeked😮 ya 🌛did 🌛it🤤

🤤Precious 😠Peach, 😋and😅 Bubblegum 😋Pop😲

🙁No 😮‍💨need😘 for 😍a 🤗mop😱 cause 🤫we 🤭don't 🤨stop!🤠

🙊Just❤️‍🔥 let 😍it😙 fly 👺JUGGALO 👺JUICE 👺(Yep🔥, yep💯)

💩Into💨 the🪨 sky👥 (Yep)💥

😳My😍 Faygo 💅🏻HEEY!!🌷

💫Don't 🌈wonder 🍠why🚕 (Whooooaoh!)🚓

💅🏻JUGGALO🌜 JUICE😍 (Yep,✨ yep)💨

🪨Until 💞you💋 try 💯(Yep)💅🏻

🌷My 🌈Faygo 🍠HEEY!💋

🤤Orange😏 Chug 🌛(Whooooaoh!)😮

😵‍💫City 😫Soda (Yep,🤡 Yep)🌜

😮‍💨Moon 🤭Mist🌚 (Yep)😲

🤤Mango 😩Tango 😅(My😭 Faygo 😍HEEY!)😅

😆Key 🤩Lime 😜Pie🤪 (Whooooaoh!)🥳

😒Red😠 Cherry ☹️(Yep, 😫Yep)😵‍💫

😖Original 🤤Black 😫Raspberry😵‍💫 (Yep, 🌜My 🥴Faygo 😓HEEY!😩)

😫Jive 🤤Turkey😣 Tonic😫

i spent too long on this.

@syds-shitposting-arena

#icp #insane clown posse

30 notes · View notes

lambsouvlaki · 1 month

Note

I don’t have an ao3 account so I’ll leave this here. Recalled to Life is soooo good man the parallels between nemo and his family and Jason and his family :(

“anyone could fake tears for a little brother they never really wanted. Save the relief that he was finally gone for when nobody was looking” IM NOT OKAY

Alfred being the good father out of him and Bruce… 😶

the way you explore Jason’s relationships through parallels and allusions and his thought process ugh it’s just incredible

anyways if I think about it too much I’ll start crying because I always think about how badly Jason was failed even just before his death. Especially bc a lot of people will talk about Bruce and ignore the fact that, well, Jason and Dick kind of always have had a very complex relationship. I understand why Dick, Bruce, Alfred, etc were acting the way they were, but still. “Nemo might still be alive” and all that.

thanks for writing!!

Thank you so much! 💚💚💚

All Jason’s experiences with family have been a letdown for him, even by people who had the best of intentions, and its left him so jaded. But he’s still so desperate for love and belonging.

His relationship with dick is so complicated and i love it. Brothers(?) of all time.

#thanks for the ask!#my fanfic #recalled to life #there’s more to come for that fic by the way

2 notes · View notes

chainsxwsmile · 2 years

Note

😶 + Intrusive thoughts about eating your fish friends? If so: How many? How often? Would they ever know?

Send 😶 + a really uncomfortable question and my muse has to answer it

"Quite a bit... and more often than I'd like to admit."

It was considerably harder in the beginning, with the stronger cravings and the occasional slip-ups. Moments where a fish friend would wander a few inches too close to his jaws. Just in biting distance. Just a single snap was all it could take. He could barely mouth his head and he'd have them in his teeth.

But then they'd make some friendly remark, and Bruce would realize how very close they were to him. Not to his jaws, necessarily, but to him. The trust, unwavering, for the moment as they idled beside him. Wholly trusting that he'd do them no harm. That he wouldn't even think about hurting them. He didn't. He didn't want to think about eating them. Hurting them. Filling the hole in his belly and tearing apart his friend.

The more Bruce tries to remember-- remember the trust they show him-- he finds it harder for his body to follow through with those intrusive thoughts. He worries that telling his fish friends will scare them off, so he only exchanges his intrusive thoughts with other sharks of the program. They all have them as well. The thoughts still haunt him. Hurt him. Worry him deeply. But Bruce just needs to remember the trust of his fish friends. And trust in that.

#unstatusquo #about Bruce #answered

5 notes · View notes

captain-ariel-rogers · 2 years

Note

Okay I'm all caught up and I just want to say that you laid the groundwork for part two SO WELL that I knew E was going to be a problem immediately.

Also I really hope Bruce gets a new therapist because hoooo boy does he need it 😬

Maybe one for Araminta, too

That was quite the binge read 😉

I’m SO glad you picked up on him being a big issue. He’s kinda gone off the deep end, hasn’t he?

Yes, they both BADLY need therapists…Bruce especially. But…more on that later 😶

#omo #on my own spoilers

2 notes · View notes

hollandorks · 2 years

Note

AHHH CHAPTER 27 (SPOILERS AHEAD!)

“ “If there is anything I can do to talk you out of it,” he said quietly. “I’ll do it. Anything.” “ oh my god this line 🥺

bruce handing her the cup of coffee exactly how she likes it!! this is so perfect because he’s trying! i feel like bruce is much better at showing his feelings through actions, rather than words, and this is such a perfect example of that!!

the dress/earrings are so pretty and i love the mention of her being able to run and fight in heels, thanks to the iceberg lounge. omg y/n just wanting one dance with bruce before she leaves his life forever 🥲

HIS REACTION TO HER IN THE DRESS AWWW (again, he short circuits around her!! just absolutely freezes, it’s so precious) i love that she was the one to tell him he looks great haha :’) HIS MOTHER’S PEARLS AHAKSKSJ 😭🥺 again, i think this is another example of him showing the way he feels through his actions. as you wrote, the pearls are symbolic of his trust!! and also his love but she doesn’t see that rn🥲 i also adore this moment because the two of them became closer (as bruce, not as batman) partially through conversation about their mothers and their grief. she knows the importance of something left behind by a deceased parent. it just fits very well :’)

“I’m nervous because I’m not a good dancer.” I LOVE THIS HAHA but i love his reaction and response even more 😭 also her thinking, “why are you in the best mood I’ve ever seen you in when we’re headed into unknown danger in formal clothes?” IT’S BECAUSE HE LOVES YOU and i imagine that in that moment he’s wondering if this is what his life could’ve been (minus the danger awaiting them ofc) if it weren’t for all the tragedy, and batman, and just everything else.

“The mantle of Batman settled between his shoulders. Tonight, he was only pretending to be Bruce.” again, i love the way you describe this because, like you said, it’s done so well in the movie too!! i’m loving all the imagery for the gala tbh

i love alfred telling her she knew when they arrived aww! and the fact that she was imagining if this were her life, minus the danger 🥺 BRUCE ONLY PUTTING TWO STRAWBERRIES ON HIS PLATE HAHAH like when he eats exactly two berries in the movie (if you did that on purpose, i love it) also LOL i love her just being so horny for him😶and judging by his “sharp look” at her when she sighed, she isn’t the only one hehe 👀

GOD i love that he was the one to ask her to dance 🥺 and the fact that they stay out there, with privacy to dance and talk. i love that it’s obvious how hard he’s trying. AND AHHH this song is so perfect! THEY’RE FINALLY COMMUNICATING!!! i so hope that they get to finish that conversation soon 🥺

i love her just being rude to all the rich people 😶😅 (and saving bruce from conversations and interactions he does not want to have lol)

ALFRED PAYING THE DJ TO PLAY A SLOW SONG 💀☺️ SO GOOD and omg bruce “Ignored everything but her.” fuckk i love that, and this song is also just perfect!

I LOVE THE EXCUSE FOR HIM TO LEAVE HAHA it’s (fake) messy and i like that 😶 AND THE CONVERSATION WITH THE GIRLS IN THE BATHROOM LMAOOO telling them he’s huge 💀 THEN Y/N GOING TO SAY “YOU’RE WELCOME” TO HIM AFTER AHAHAHA

fuck maxwell and fuck the mayor!! glad she punched him (but also OUCH THIS CLIFFHANGER i’m so scared for the ch 28 one!)

i’m hydrating and resting thank you bestie!! 🥰

can’t wait for chapter 28!

this isn’t really related to this chapter specifically but i love that you’re kind of being convinced to be a taylor swift stan sooo delicate by taylor swift is my song rec of the day!

🖤

***CH 27 SPOILERS*** (also thanks for adding a spoiler warning of your own bestie!!)

As I've discussed on here before Bruce's love language is 100% acts of service, so you're right! Actions are easy....words not so much.

Also it's dumb but I'm glad someone looked at my links to the dress etc because I love seeing those on fics 😂 I spent way too long looking at those/ coming up with the right outfit. And I also just had to include that she's good with heels because of the IL!

Bruce was like 👁👄👁 error 404 file not found when he saw her. But you're so right about the pearls! Poor dumb reader had the right idea of the significance but was too dumb to realize it was basically a love confession!

Side note/ tangent: I love that you bring up that she knows how it feels to lose a parent/ loved one. I thought long and hard with this story about exactly what kind of person this Bruce Wayne version should with! And obviously he needs someone who has similar experiences & feelings--someone who can understand him on a base level. Anyways, I'm just glad that's coming across!

They are both definitely wondering if this is what life could have been like! If only it weren't for the who like....danger thing & the corruption of Gotham, etc.

Glad you like the Batman mentions!! I'm literally dying to see more of Rob's take on this Bruce because of this kind of stuff! I need more!

Yes that was a nod to the movie😂 I've been enjoying nods to that scene in other Bruce fics so I had to include it. Also he definitely was horny when she sighed 👀 like, she's looking hot first of all, but now she's making sexy noises?! Poor Bruce is short circuiting again.

Glad everyone is loving the song!! As soon as I heard it I knew it'd be includes!! Rihanna always surprises me and idk why. She's talented. I think that's just leftover resistance from my days as a teen who wanted to rebel at anything popular 😂 (probably the same reason I haven't listened to much Taylor Swift despite not actually disliking her)

The second song was another I loved at first listen! I always love when songs perfectly fit the vibe of a scene and these two songs were just a good old fashioned chef's kiss.

I could not help having her tease him about his dick 😂👀 I mean she's horny like 95% of the time she's around him so of course it's on her mind. (As I told someone else, this comment does come up later too 👀😂)

Okay so Delicate is one of the few songs of hers I have saved/ actively listen to!! It's on my playlist for my Tom Holland fic Hotlanta actually 😅 but I can 100% see how it made you think of motn! Bruce especially! "So you must like me for me" YEP THE READER DOES. Batman and all!

Thanks for always sending songs, I love it!!! 🥰🥺 thanks bestie!! Have a great rest of your day/ night!

#asks #anon #motn spoilers #bestie 🖤#🖤 anon #🖤

3 notes · View notes