Dick: You use to be so cute and tiny..
Jason: And you use to be cool. We both changed.
Dick: Wha-?! I'm still cool!!
Jason: Okay, 'officer Grayson'. Cops aren't cool.
Dick: THAT WAS A LONG TIME AGO
Jason: STILL FRESH IN MY MIND, PIG!
Dick: LET IT GO!
Jason: NO. YOU WERE THE ONE WHO SAID FUCK THE POLICE! THOSE WERE WORDS I LIVED BY!
Dick: OH MY GOD. YOURE THE ONLY ONE THAT STILL REMEMBERS THAT!
Tim, walking into the living room: I remember it.
Duke, from another room: I heard about it! You've lost 1000 aura man!
Cassandra, poking her head in: I've also heard about it.
Dick: EVERYONE SHUT UP.
Jason: Just like a cop to order people around like that, shameless.
Dick, groans: Fuuuuck-!
Dick: All of you are going to make me age like milk!
Damian, popping up behind him: Is it wrong to say it's too late for that?
Dick, practically shaking: Damian..I swear to God.
If you read the fic, leave the kudos. Leave a comment too, if possible. Just do it. It takes a few seconds of your time and it means the world to the writer.
Sincerely, me who just got told that my writing feels like watching a blockbuster movie. I don't care if they were sincere or not, I'll be thinking about that comment for the rest of my life and every time I feel bad about my art, I'll remember that someone once liked it.
every so often, i think, and it might be so selfish of me, but i crave to be someone's first choice. i want to be the person that someone sees fun things to do and their first thought is to ask me to go with them. i want someone to be willing to inconvenience themselves a little bit sometimes for me as i would do for them. i want to be looked at in a list of people and to have someone pick me out of all of them. i want to be held at the same level as a romantic partner in terms of effort and closeness. i want someone to want me as much as i want them, even though it's not in a romantic sense. i want to be important to someone.
This is what I’ve got so far, starting with fanfic. I post my writing on A03 and I will be posting about it here as well, but not the entire story, only sections I want to talk about, cause I have so much fun writing this kind of stuff.
This list will be continuously updates with new fics, WIP and I am happy to take suggestions for ships, fandoms or stories that you want to guide my attention too. My style is found family with plenty of healing from the plot, I generally aim for happier endings and on the whole, canon is stripped for parts around here.
With that out of the way, here is my work so far:
You Have Me. Remember That. By rocketshipinspace on A03, 70,000+ words, currently twelve chapters, not yet complete. Found family, fix it fic.
I am also throwing around ideas for a fairytale fic and a Marvel fic bc the Avengers deserved better.
okie dokie let me know if you have any suggestions or writing prompts!
The Batkids have the same twenty dollar bill that has been going around for like 16 years straight or something - beginning with Jason and Dick
The story goes:
Jason, 12: I bet you $20 that I can make Bruce cry without saying a word
Dick: Deal.
Jason: *walks up to Bruce and hugs with love in his eyes*
Bruce: *violently sobbing and picking Jason up*
Dick: *angrily walks by and slyly hands Jason a 20*
—
A few weeks later it’s
Dick, on a skyscraper looking down at a different one: I bet $20 that I can make this landing
(Info: this genuinely should not be possible for Plot Reasons)
Jason: okay but if you die I get to keep it
Dick: *jumps and lands it*
Jason: *sadly climbs back down to the street and hands a proud Dick the SAME $20 he earned not too long ago*
—-
This goes on between them for years - up until you know what
—-
Dick, out of habit: I bet you $20 you can’t do six front flips in a row
Tim, new and eager to please: watch me bitch
Tim: *does it perfectly - maybe with a tad bit of a waver but still*
Dick:
Dick, crying hysterically for many reasons: *hands the faithful $20 over*
—-
(For plot reasons Tim never spends it for X reason)
Steph: I bet you $20 I can make that guy over there ask for my number
Tim: okay
Steph: *comes back over after successfully getting him to ask*
Tim: *handing over the 20*
—
Cass:
Steph: oh you’re fucking on
Cass:
Steph: DAMNIT *hands $20 over*
—-
Cass:
Damian: -tt- yes obviously I can. I shall take on the bet
Damian: *wins*
Cass: >:(
—-
Damian: Thomas, I will give you a 20 dollar if you can scare Father
Duke: Hell yeah
Duke: *goes on a quest for a few days before he genuinely scares the crap out of Bruce*
Duke: GIVE ME THE $20 HOE
—
By now, it’s a very big inside joke between the bats
—
It’s Dicks turn with the $20 when it happens like the first day
Jason: hey I bet I can make Bruce cry
Dick: oh please he hasn’t since 2013
Jason: Watch me
Jason: *walks up to Bruce, says a few words, hugs him tightly, walks back over to Dick*
Jason: Wait for it…
Bruce: *wonders off and a few moments later - you hear crying*
Dick: *passes a very wrinkly and used $20*
Jason: what the hell is this? The routing number has been out of rotation for years
Dick: oh it’s the same one that we used back when we made stupid bets - it’s been around the family
Jason:
Jason: *definitely not crying*
—-
Anyway; the reason I made this post was cuz of this headcanon
The bat siblings might have a $20 bill but there’s a 75% chance they won’t give it to you because “oh it’s not spending money”
“(Bat) YOU’RE A MULTIBILLIONAIRE”
“I know but this one is special-“
”Wait.” The faintest sound darting out from beneath the door. So so quiet, even though there is nothing else to make noise. Even though there is nothing else to hear it.
“Wait, please.” You turn, key already half in your hands pocket, caught stiff from the impossibility of it. It’s barely louder than a murmur. If your hearing hadn’t twitched just the slightest, if you hadn’t stopped just to double check, you’d be gone. The universe would be shut, dust sheets covering the planets and all the windows and stars locked. Lights off.
“Please?” It’s so unsure. So fragile. The silence threatens to break the noise instead of the other way round. Are they unwilling or unable to raise their volume, to risk being heard, to take up space, to actually stand up and decide they want to exist? What horrors do they think being known will bring?
“Please. I don’t want to be left behind.”
You open the door, and the universe flickers on.
You are Death. The last living thing has died. You've put the chairs on the tables, turned out the lights, and locked the universe behind you. Something whispers from behind the door.