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batman shooting somebody is crazy itself. BUT AT HIS SON?? DIABOLICAL.

They Have AO3?!?

So apparently AO3 is cannonical to the DC universe, in which it is called Tales of our own or TO3!

OLIVIA RODRIGO performing at Lollapalooza Chile (March 21, 2025)

<Kinda continuation of: prev>

——

Dick: Have you ever doubted that I love you?

Bruce: …

——

It wasn’t a fight. At least it didn’t really feel like all those usual fights, and Bruce was pretty sure it wasn’t a fight. But then again, he’s always been wrong in guessing about his children.

Dick seems… distant. Distant but still close. Usually when Dick wants to be distant, he leaves. His children are very good at leaving and not telling him where they are. He always knows, though, he’s Batman.

Bruce doesn’t remember any scathing words being exchanged between them. No heated glares, heavy air, stilted conversations. Nothing that usually promises an argument is to come or has passed without Bruce realizing it.

But for some reason, Dick was still lingering around the hallways. If Bruce turned around, he would see his eldest child standing around the edges, his body tense, and a perturbed expression on his face. Just watching him, waiting for a moment that Bruce was honestly scared to come.

It was starting to worry Bruce. His baby has always been a bright and shining star, even when he doesn’t want to be.

But Bruce also knew that if he tried to pry, he would only push Dick away. After many years of trail and errors, Bruce decided the best course of action would be to let Dick figure it out himself or come to Bruce on his own.

Strangely enough, it didn’t take very long for Dick to come into his study, his face trying and failing to adopt a calm and nonchalant expression as he sat in the edge of his desk.

“Hey B…” Dick said lowly, fiddling with one of the snow globes he had on his desk. Bruce had gotten that specific one from Dick when they first visited Zitka at the zoo when he was nine and Dick had begged to get something from the gift shop.

“Dick.” Bruce nodded, setting down his pen and giving his son his full attention.

Dick let out a shuddering sigh and set down the snow globe. Bruce’s hands twitched with the urge to fix it and set it straight, but then Dick turned the globe and moved it to the exact position that he liked.

Bruce couldn’t help the small twitch of his lips. He was probably being too obvious, Dick most likely remembers the several panic attacks he had when Dick was a child, unable to process and handle when his prized possessions were askew. He worked on it. He's fine now.

“I heard something pretty interesting… from Jay.” Dick started haltingly, his eyes staring deeply into Bruce’s. “You guys had a pretty… deep convo recently… right?”

Bruce felt stupid. A deep conversation? He’s assuming that Dick means an emotionally charged conversation but he truly doesn’t remember anything like that happening recently.

“Okay, okay, I can see you racking your brain, so I’ll just tell you,” Dick said, grabbing his Dad’s hands and holding them in his own. Bruce hadn’t even noticed when he started digging his fingernails into the flesh of his arm, close to drawing blood.

Shit. He always fucking does this. Making Dick worry and take care of him like he was an invalid incompetent manchild.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it.” Dick murmured causing Bruce to purse his lips together silently. “Seriously, it’s okay B. I know why you are the way you are. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Bruce nodded silently because it was easier to do so than argue why he should’ve already grown out of his childish habits. You’d think having the media point out his self inflected scars when he was 12 would’ve kicked him out of the habit already…

“What was it that you wanted to talk to me about? I don’t remember any particularly deep conversation with Jason.” Bruce rumbled, tilting his head to the side when Dick’s nose scrunched in annoyance.

“Of course you don’t, just like Jay said…” Dick huffed under his breath. “Okay, let’s just… blurt it out. Get it over with.”

Dick seemed to try and hype himself up, squeezing Bruce’s hands tightly before releasing and continuing the action a few more times.

“Jason said that you think that we hate you, but like, I really don’t know where that came from, and I’m just super confused because I don’t think I’ve said it that often, and yeah I’ve said it, I probably shouldn’t have, really shouldn’t have since you think that I hate you, well you think that all of us-“

“Chum.” Bruce stopped his son’s rapid word vomit with one word, his eyes crinkled with fondness and amusement as he squeezed Dick’s hands back. “Sweetheart, I didn’t understand a single word you just said. Slow down for me, okay?”

Dick took large gulps of air, his face burning with embarrassment as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Right! Right duh, I just- ugh…”

Bruce absentmindedly trailed his eyes over Dick’s face, so much older than when he had last seen him. Maybe a little gaunt… he’ll make Dick some brownies, the ones he used to make when Dick was smaller. Maybe they could watch a movie later, anything that would get DIck to fall asleep.

“Dad…” Dick breathed softy, making Bruce’s heart race. Uh oh, why was this a Dad moment? Did Dick want something?

“Jason came to me and he told me that… you think that I… we hate you. Do you?”

Bruce let out a confused hum. Was that the important conversation he had? Bruce didn’t feel like it was an important conversation; it had been mostly resolved by the time Jason decided to leave. Well, Bruce felt as though it had been resolved.

“… you said it,” Bruce said slowly. The last time he said that, Jason had gone silent and stared at Bruce with a horrified expression before hugging him. It was a nice hug, so Bruce guessed he had read his second son’s expression wrong, and it was all okay in the end.

“No, B, I could… I could never…” Dick’s throat dried up. Why couldn’t he just force the full sentence out? 'No, I don't hate you.' Why does his tongue feel like it's a million pounds? Why do his lips refuse to move?

Bruce hummed sympathetically and nodded his head, like he understood, like he could sort through the mess in Dick’s mind. Bruce had always had an uncanny way of peering into all of their minds when it was the most jumbled, and yet, he was getting it completely wrong this time.

“It’s okay. I’m not mad. It makes perfect sense.” Bruce nodded, having the fucking audacity to pretend that it did make sense. Like Dick hating him was perfectly normal, like living in a house and caring for people who he thinks hate him is nothing out of the ordinary.

“Wha-? No, Bruce, it’s not supposed to make sense!” Dick ran a hand through his hair, carelessly ripping through the knots and tangles, barely feeling the pain radiating from his scalp. The one in his chest hurt a fuckton more.

Bruce chewed on his lower lip, unable to dig his fingernails into the palm of his hand, he settled for digging the heel of his foot against the dorsum of his other, still bruised painfully from a rough night of crime fighting alone.

“What did I do wrong this time?” Bruce asked, wanting to know why Dick was here and why he seemed so… distraught. Not even angry, which was somehow worse.

He had to have done something wrong, after all, both DIck and Jason had come to him separately to rehash this same old conversation. Something must have happened.

That, for some reason, seemed to be the wrong thing to say.

“Dad, you know we love you… right…?” Dick whispered quietly. “You know that I love you, right?” Dick tried to grin, hoping that he would see his father’s face transform into a smile, to hear his deep chuckle of amusement, to listen to his Dad say ‘yes, of course I know that you love me, that you all love me.’

But it never came.

Bruce was quiet. No he was completely silent, staring at his son with a truly baffled expression that Dick has only seen very few times in his life. Like the words coming out of his son’s mouth were such an obvious lie, and he was trying to figure out why he was lying right to his face. Like Dick's love was such an unreachable object for him that there was no way he could already have it.

No no no no no no-

“Dad-!” Dick choked on a sudden sob, forcefully tearing its way out of his throat without his permission. “Please! Tati please! You have to know that I love you!”

Bruce swallowed and slowly extracted his hands from Dick’s grip, well, he tried to. Dick held on tight, steadfastly refusing to let go. “Dick, sweetheart, let me get you a cup of water. I don’t know why you’re crying, but I promise we can figure it out together. I’ll be right back, I swear.” Bruce said, his voice giving away how stressed he was in this situation.

Dick desperately clawed at his Dad’s hands, trying to stop him from leaving, but somehow Bruce escaped his hold. He always escapes his grasp.

As Bruce quickly fled the room, Dick slid down off Bruce’s desk and onto the floor, curling up into hisself. Trying to hide away from the shame and horror that was threatening to explode from his body.

How could this have happened? When had he stopped telling his Dad that he loved him? When had Bruce stopped believing him?

Dick tugged harshly on his hair and wailed, waiting for Bruce to come back.

what if i made Batman acesexual and gave him a very complicated relationship with his playboy persona revolving around how people treat attractive people and the assumption that all men enjoy sex huh? what then?

site that you can type in the definition of a word and get the word

site for when you can only remember part of a word/its definition 

site that gives you words that rhyme with a word

site that gives you synonyms and antonyms

i don’t think people who don’t read comics/mostly read wfa understand how much of a dweeb tim drake actually is because he was supposed to be a Good Role Model For Tween Boys in the 90s. one time he found out his roommate at boarding school was an alcoholic so he poured all his alcohol down the drain instead of just ignoring it like a normal person. his girlfriend wanted to have sex with him and instead of just saying “i’m not ready” he launched into a monologue about how “making love is like opening a door” and he “isn’t ready to open that door yet” because they “might have adult feelings for each other, but [they’re] still just kids.” 90s tim was the type of kid to remind the teacher to assign homework. he somehow got mad bitches even though everyone highkey thought he was weird. in one panel of one issue he randomly said he had to be “vewwy quiet” and never spoke like that again. he canonically plays dungeons and dragons (or the fictional dc equivalent). the money his dad left him after he died wasn’t even a lot because his dad went bankrupt shortly before his death. like it was a substantial amount but not enough to make him rich. i cannot stress enough that tim was SUCH a Regular Guy TM and constantly worried about not standing out. he purposefully did bad at sports and pretended to be winded in gym class so people wouldn’t suspect anything. like he wouldn’t even try and be average, he would purposefully almost fail. he is not a cool rich skater kid guys he’s such a dork

A very normal day at the Watchtower

Clark : B, I want you to fuck me six ways to Sunday till I can't walk straight.

Bruce :

Clark :

Bruce :

The JL :

Diana : *surreptitiously removing the end of her lasso from where she had dropped it on Superman's lap*

Clark : *turning twelve shades of red and slapping a hand to his mouth*

Bruce : How does eight tonight sound?

Clark : *turning another twelve shades darker*

The JL : *quietly exchanging money underneath the table*

Diana : *evil grin and a thumbs up*