“Sometimes I Think Batman Is The Only Thing I Made Right.” Bruce Says To No One In Particular. The

also not to derail anything but when i saw the cover and the fact that the other guy has pink hair i got reminded of the pink kryptonite that made superman gay and i can't stop thinking about it

Bruce I swear to god call them your fucking sons

Robert Pattinson in interviews: Bruce Wayne is a slimy worm man. A stinky dirty bat. A mess. Emo. Greasy and gross. Seconds away from going feral and biting someone’s ear off.

Me, a Bruce Wayne fan: Yes, yes, this man gets it

Fashion inspo? Oh you mean fan art of cartoon characters where they look Trendy™️

new she-ra fic: Time To Go

word count: 7,733

summary: After Adora disappears and Catra has to gather a whole army to find her again, there’s a moment on the battlefield where Catra actually thinks that Adora’s about to leave her.

She doesn’t. Of course. All they have is eachother and both of them belong to the Horde. To defect to the Rebellion is unthinkable. Impossible.

In the months that follow, Catra decides that leaving might not be as awful an idea as she first thought.

She looks out across a world in chaos and frowns.

“It was brash”

“It was bold”

“It was impetuous”

“It was inspired”

They grow silent. An acknowledgement that no agreement is to be found in this place.

~

She says that she should kill him. She says so often, without humour. She says so as a woman who has killed hundreds across her lifetime and will no doubt kill hundreds more.

“You know more of me than anyone else does.” he confesses.

She hums.

“I could say the same to you.”

He grins and she can’t help but pity him. Connection was never necessary for her, but to watch this child suffer without it must be a tragedy beyond measure.

~

She tells him that she put poison in his drink. He sighs, tired, and walks outside. She hears him throwing up in the ally behind the abandoned building they had chosen for their meetings.

He comes back in with clothes just as clean and hair just as neat as when he left. He frowns at her but is happy to continue their conversation as it was.

“I’m going to hurt you one day.” she informs him. He rolls his eyes.

“You hurt me constantly,” he gestures to some bruises for effect, “At least this way I might be tough enough to survive what’s to come.”

She nods. With the sorts of enemies the boy tends to make he has a point.

batman by lee weeks & elizabeth breitweiser

Continuation of this and this

Pt. 3:

“Do you feel it too?” Adora asks Glimmer one day when she can’t hold it in any longer.

They’re eating dinner with Queen Angella and Bow. The table’s previous conversation, full of good humour and niceness, goes silent at her question.

“Feel what?” Glimmer asks carefully.

“Everything.” It’s not the right word for whatever it is but it’s the closest one she can think of. It makes Glimmer pause for a moment as she turns to look at Adora. Her gaze turns intense in a way that makes her look older, more like the Queen she might become one day.

“Only when I’m with you.” She says and Adora nods. It was sort of the answer she was expecting.

“Is it the same for the others?” Adora asks, because Glimmer isn’t the only person she knows who’s tied to the universe by chains of faith and stardust.

“Of course.”

A pause.

“I feel it all the time.” Adora says quietly.

Bow and Queen Angella exchange a look, half-knowing half-afraid. Glimmer just seems like she was expecting it though. Adora isn’t surprised by that, Glimmer is tied to the moonstone in a different way to her mother. Angella is connected to it in a way that’s full of magic and precision and order. Glimmer’s bonds with the moonstone are more hope and blood and chaos.

She-Ra is made of hope and blood and chaos. Adora might hate her for it if she hadn’t always been made of those things too.

~

link to Shana cause these lil drabbles are pretty much just me trying to copy her style

After Conner finds out about where the other half of his DNA came from, once he knows that Superman might actually find a valid way to hate him one day, it would have been easy for Lex to slip into the shadows and leave the secrets Conner learned to torment him.

He doesn’t.

Instead he starts to visit. He texts Conner and asks if he would like to go to a diner after school. He calls Conner to ask how his day’s going. He smiles when Conner tells him that he taught Wolf a new trick.

If Conner didn’t know better, he might think that Lex was trying to parent him.

He assumes that Cadmus must have gotten something wrong. He guesses that he misunderstood what it meant when they put the thought that ‘parents look out for you and give you advice and forgive you when you yell at them’ because if he didn’t then-

Then Lex Luthor would be a significantly better dad than Superman. Which wouldn’t make sense. At all.

~

After about a month of visits and kind words and pats on the shoulder that make Conner feel embarrassed but so full of happiness he might burst, he decides to confess to the team. Partly because he hates lying to them more than anything in the world. Partly because he knows this is wrong and he knows that he has to stop before he says something he shouldn’t and screws everything up but if he’s ever going to stop he needs someone to tell him he has to.

So he confesses. And very pointedly doesn’t look at anyone as he waits for them to start yelling.

“But-” starts Artemis, soft in a way Conner’s never associated with her before, “but you’ve been happier.”

He finally looks up and instead of angry they just look sad and understanding and Conner loves all of them so much.

“Conner,” Kaldur says, calm and measured, “If Lex Luthor is your blood, and you want to get to know him, I don’t think that any of us would feel comfortable taking that away from you.”

Wally steps forward like he wants to reach out. “We all have adults we can talk to about all of this, it’s not fair that you don’t. We won’t tell on you man.”

Conner squeezes his eyes shut because if he keeps looking at all their earnest faces he might start crying.

“I’d never-” he struggles to get the words out, “I’d never choose him over any of you. I like him and sometimes he feels important to me in a weird way. But he’s nothing compared to you guys.”

“We know.” M’gann says.

‘We know’, they all say with their trust and their kindness and all the ways they’ve tried to make him feel at home since they came together.

Before he can leave to calm down somewhere with fewer people and more things to break he’s swamped by a tangle of limbs and reassurance and forgets why he wanted to leave anyway.

He really does have the best family.

“Did you hear that?” whispers Callum to the more hardened criminals around him. They snort in derision at his caution, just the new guy being on edge about the job, but he keeps his gun held tight in his hand.

“I heard it too.” says Tony, the other new guy. He doesn’t look as worried as Callum because fine maybe Callum is a bit nervous about this whole ‘becoming a criminal’ thing but he can see that Tony holds his gun with just as tight a grip. “Sounded a bit like laughing, yeah?”

The rest of the gang goes very still and Callum feels like he might be missing something.

“Yeah,” Callum agrees cautiously, “like a little kid.”

Someone swears. Everyone turns so that someone else is defending their back.

“What’s the problem?.” Callum asks, also turning to keep someone at his back.

The laughter sounds again, clearer this time and that’s definitely a little kid. It makes even some of the more hardened men in the room flinch.

“Anyone here got a problem shooting a kid?” asks the member of their group that Callum thinks might be in charge.

What he really wants to say is yes I do have a problem shooting a kid that really isn’t what I thought I was signing up to here but Callum thinks that saying any of that would be a very good way to have the guys shoot him instead of the kid. He doesn’t want that either so he stays silent and pretends that he’s cool with everything that’s happening here.

Turns out that he doesn’t need to worry about shooting any kids.

Turns out that kids are more likely to shoot you.

They don’t even see the boy before there are sharp things knocking the guns out of their hands and, just as Callum tries to pick his up, tiny fingers are around his neck and he’s blacking out before managing to put up even the imitation of a fight.

~

Callum wakes up he doesn’t know how long later. He’s in the ally behind the warehouse he’d been in when he got knocked out. A kid in a domino mask is perched on the street light across from him.

“You should get a different job,” the kid says to him, “you’re too scared for this one.”

Callum would have loved to have said something cutting back, the kind of one liner the real bosses can come up with in an instant, but his throat is sore from being squeezed shut and his head is swimming so all he comes up with is a raspy, “am not” as he tries not to puke.

“Your hands are shaking.”

Shit, they are. Callum sends as scathing a look as he can at his traitorous hands. The effort of that actually does make him puke and he’s forced to ignore the somewhat pitying look the kid is sending his way.

“Yikes, you really aren’t suited to this kind of thing, are you? Maybe you should try and get one of those construction jobs going at that place round the corner. Oh! Or you could be a chef! I think you’d make a great chef.” The kid looks behind himself at something Callum’s vision is too blurry to see. “I’ve gotta go, but it was nice meeting you. Hopefully see you never, yeah?”

The kid backflips off the street light for no discernible reason.

Callum lies on his back and stares at his hands for twenty minutes until they stop shaking. For the whole time he thinks about how the construction place round the corner already rejected him and there aren’t any jobs for chefs in this part of town.