One of my fave lil headcanons (arguably unoriginal) is people outside of Gotham always being surprised at how fucking MASSIVE Batman is because they’ve only ever seen him on the news when he’s fighting The Big Bad or standing next to Superman and/or Wonder Woman who are literally beyond human capabilities of height and muscle.
so obviously, 6’5, impossibly jacked Bruce Wayne looks about 5’10 and lean next to an overpowered alien and their resident Amazonian. Not to say he isn’t still intimidating, however, because even the other two couldn’t hide Bruce’s overwhelming broodiness, but definitely not BIG.
As such, whenever Bruce is on ground control, it’s not uncommon for civilians who were previously running and screaming for their lives to get scooped up by the bat and go for an impromptu grappling hook adventure away from the chaos. Then, as they turn around, overwhelmed with gratitude, they just. Freeze. Hearts stopped. They have to crane their necks to make eye contact with lifeless white lenses. It seems like the shadows curl around their savior and bend to his command. Their mouths go dry and their legs shake in fear without them realizing.
and suddenly, as quickly as he came, Batman vanishes back into the fray, and the civilians have to take a minute to themselves before they start running again to simply process that was short, scrawny Batman. The same Batman that barely reaches Wonder Woman’s chin.
And the worst part? They have to go on GOTHAM chat rooms after to cope because no one else outside of New Jersey believes that Batman is as terrifying as he actually is
a nosy socialite at an event, leaning down: “Oh Richard, it must be so hard for you in that house, what with Bruce’s…proclivities for nighttime guests.”
Dick Grayson, fully aware at age 13 that Bruce Wayne is a Loser™ whose only “nighttime guest” is Clark Kent, who comes over to “review cases” with Bruce before/after patrol while both of them awkwardly ignore any and all tension between them: “Something like that.”
Praying you work for me magic bagel PLEASE 🙏🏾🙏🏾
alfred gave them the sheets
Don’t worry, bud, Bruce will get it eventually…
reblog this if your icon could kill a man
when jason died, they buried him with the possessions that he carried on him all the time. there was a pocket knife tucked into his sock, the bracelet on his wrist from catherine that he never took off, a tangled pair of earbuds in his back pocket, and, in the top pocket of his jacket, the cellphone that bruce bought for him after he was adopted.
that cellphone stayed with jason in his grave. went with him when he dug his way out. somehow stayed on his person when he was taken by the league, and he managed to convince talia to let him keep it throughout all his training.
he doesn’t know why, maybe as a grief thing or maybe just because bruce forgot and it’s not like the bill effected him in any way, but he never stopped paying jason’s phone bill. his number’s still active, still working after all this time. even weirder, but dick started adopting the tradition of adding his dead brother’s phone number to each and every family group chat any of them created after ethiopia. again, jason doesn’t know why. maybe it was dick’s way of carrying his memory with them; including him in family conversations even if they all thought the number was connected to a long buried phone in the pocket of a long dead boy.
the point is that jason wasn’t dead any more. and all throughout his time at the league, he gets to watch the family chats. the mission statuses, the arguments, the rapid spiral every chat went through where they started off using it as a serious bat communication centre only for dick or tim to send a meme and instantly spiral into nothing but chaos that bruce would neither take part in or attempt to stop. jason spectates it all, always fingering the keypad but never actually typing out a message. he came close when there was a heated debate between steph and dick about the best donut types and he knew they were both absolutely fucking wrong, but luckily tim came in to educate them on the right choice last second and jason was saved from having to reveal himself.
the closest call was when little damian got a hold of his phone, attracted to the bright colours of the block game jason had been absently playing out of boredom while ra’s droned on about whatever had pissed him off that day. he’d let the kid play, sat on his lap and eagerly jabbing at the screen, and jason had only looked away for at most a minute before he’d turned back to find the screen open on the family chat, damian having accidentally clicked on the camera button and taken a selfie of the two that he’d been about to send through. luckily, jason deleted it in time, but he became much more careful about letting the kid play with his shit after that.
this is all just a long winded explanation and backstory for and au i think would be funny where jason’s reveal is literally just him deciding to fuck with his family by randomly dropping in through text like:
-in the chat-
bruce: status report.
dick: hungry :( but good!
steph: seconded, im fine
tim: drug bust went to plan, on way back to cave uninjured
cass: ^ same answer
babs: everything seems calm from what i can tell
jason: a little claustrophobic but the coffin’s kinda homely so ig no complaints from me
.
.
.
several people are typing…
Bunt!
my sources tell me this is called a bunt when cats do it
Alfred, stitching up Bruce: and what do we think you perhaps should have done differently, master Bruce?
Bruce, delirious: I think I should have died with my parents