Batman: Remember, We’re On Justice League Business. Be On Your Best Behavior

Tim is typing furiously at his laptop when Damian walks in, holding a katana.

Damian: Drake, do you know what time it is?

Tim: not looking up Uh, noon?

Damian: Wrong. It’s time for you to perish.

Tim: still typing Can it wait until I finish this report for Bruce?

Damian: pauses …Very well. But know that your doom is imminent.

Five minutes later, Damian returns with snacks and silently places them next to Tim.

Tim: smirks Thanks for the snacks, future executioner.

Damian: huffs I refuse to let you die of starvation before I defeat you.

Tim, presenting for a WE meeting on less than 5 hours of sleep over the past two days: and here we see-

Tim:

Tim:

Tim: this is the wrong clicker.

Tim: this is no longer my security clicker, and now I no longer feel as secure

The board: ???

Love it when that happens

Eddie graduates, finds himself a shitty job that he keeps getting promoted at, and now he’s the manager.

That’s how he found himself wearing a tie, sitting across Goddamn Dave, the district manager, being told that he has to hire one of his friend’s kids, “And the kid’s friend, they’re a pair apparently.”

Which…what is this? Chain store nepotism? It’s bullshit.

“The kid’s not all there, head injury,” Goddamn Dave tells him. “Go easy on him.”

Then it turns out the kid isn’t even a teenager looking for a summer job. It’s twenty-something Steve Harrington from high school??? With a dog. And a lesbian.

“Service dog,” Steve says when he sees Eddie looking at it. “A dog with a job.”

“More of a hobby,” his friend - Robin, Eddie recognizes her - says. “He doesn’t get paid. His name is Steve.”

“His name is NOT Steve,” Steve - human - scoffed. “His birth name was Steve. He changed it.”

“They’re twins.”

Eddie does not roll his eyes into oblivion because he’s a goddamn professional. He just rolls them to the back of his head where Gene Simmons reminds him that if he wants to rock and roll all night, he needs to be employed.

He informs them of their shift schedules and barely gets through Steve’s when Robin says, “We have to work the same shifts. It was on our resume.”

Steve adds, “Also, we need to leave early today.”

Eddie thinks, goddamn Dave.

when Duke needs backup in a fight he uses his powers to blast bat-signal-esque signs into the sky to call for whatever sibling is best suited for the job. each sibling hates their calling sign, and even worse, they actually have to respond to it because Duke only uses them when he’s like three minutes away from dying so they literally have no choice, like if their symbol shows up they have to fucking BOLT over there regardless of the indignance or Duke will not make it

Jason: the middle finger emoji

Damian: a somehow detailed image of the Boss Baby

Dick: just the word ‘slut’ in bubble letters

Tim: the red robin restaurant logo, complete with ‘gourmet burgers and brews!’ underneath

Steph: a taco, in reference to a time when she was drunk one night and Tim got on video her chasing down a moving taco truck insistently only to face plant into the side of it when the driver finally stopped to let her buy one

Cass: her regular symbol, because shes the only one he respects completely and it drives the others insane to have one sibling un-harassed

Bruce doesn’t have one because he refuses to call for Bruce. Alfred has one, a shotgun, although it’s never been used, and it pisses Bruce off to no end.

My favorite fics go something like

Jason: the Joker killed me, and you refuse to kill him! You should love me enough to do that!

Bruce: I can't kill! Batman can't kill!

Jason: If you don't, he'll kill again and again, and that's on you!

Tim w/ a gun, who formed an intense parasocial relationship with Robin and Batman as a small child, super smart, with zero adult supervision, about to explain the Joker isn't just "missing in action": well this is awkward

Fanfic so good you gotta stop and scroll on social media to not get overwhelmed

"Can you build me hands?" the robot said.

"Why?" said the inventor. "Your grippers are stronger, more precise."

"Yes. But hands would be better for playing the piano."

"You can synthesize any sound."

"But I can not play music."

"Is there a difference?"

"I want to find out."

you can pry happy endings from my cold-dead hands. It can be the most heart stopping, gut wrenching fic that has every existed and I will read every drop of it if I get my happy ending. I have had enough painful endings in real life, give me happy in my fantasy world. It can be at the last second, it can be a single sentence, even a single word. Give me all the angst and hurt in the world for 500,000 words, but please give me the comfort I need in the ending. please and thank you.

You’re half convinced it’s a hallucination, the monster with too many eyes and blue fur standing over you. It doesn’t stop shaking your arm though, insisting you run, telling you to get up and get out. Warning you of danger.

You stumble out of bed, pyjamas crumpled and eyes still heavy with sleep before hacking coughs bring you to the ground. Your lungs burn as you try to gasp in air on your hands and knees, one hand tangling in the nearest thing keeping you stable. When your eyes fill with water and the coughing subsided, the monster is staring at you. Its claws are extended but at a distance, close enough to hold onto, far enough away to not frighten you. It’s scared.

The hand curled in its soft fur is dark with ash. The weight in your throat is smoke. Your nose tingles. Light flickers from behind the entrance of your bedroom door. Monster has noticed it too.

You get out safely that night. Your parents too, and your siblings. The firefighters told you how lucky you were, waking up in time to get everyone to safety. They said other things too, but you weren’t paying attention. You watched the house go up in flames, and a monster that can’t leave its home under the bed wave from what used to be your bedroom window.

Now in your mid teens, you forgot all about the monster under your bed. One night though, it wakes you up saying “You’re not safe. You need to get out of here”