“Those Poor Boys”

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?

give battinson a robin and have it be stephanie brown

if we’ve been mutuals for long enough i don’t even care what you post anymore. if one of my mutuals of two years suddenly gets really into competitive caber toss i just accept zenlike that half my dash is going to be gifsets of burly men hefting logs forever now. i adapt to all online conditions like an animal with high toxicity tolerance

"You could just use ai" yeah well I could also just kill you.

Sometimes I just sit here and think of the fact that every time someone hallucinates Jason Todd, they hallucinate him in his Robin mantle, barely out of it.

For everything that happened, actually, I think Jason would love to die as Bruce's son — except, he didn't.

He died no one's son. He died as Robin.

But most importantly, he was remembered like that. Like no one's son, just a failed sidekick. So now, when his family wants his ghost to haunt them for their mistakes, guilt and saviour complexes, they taint their memories of a boy that was their family once by moulding him in a faceless mantle.

Isn't that just Sad.

This, added it to so many stories and it's perfect

"Soulmate AU!" okay, but instead of romance it's for family and when you're born you'll either be your parents soul child or they'll be horrified to find the universe deems them not the child's parent or the child's siblings not their siblings. So. Soul Family AU.

"One Bed Trope!" Okay but instead of 💥✨💥✨💥 and all that mess, they're siblings who've never gotten along and it's cold and they're just trying to get home/ they're running away because e they both found it mutually beneficial to run away together even though they despise one another and they end up cuddling and crying because they're so tired and they've been through so much, together but also absent in one another's lives.

"F*do or die" Cuddle or die, same as the top, but you need to be held like-- bone crushing, hold me or the world is gonna fall apart and end and I'll tear apart at the seams-- held.

"Enemies to lovers" Enemies to brothers, must I say more?

Look, I can do this all day, I love taking romance tropes and turning them into family angst and hurt/ comfort.

Chaos chaos something something behavior blah blah blah romance.

Ok so like I love romance don't get me wrong, I giggle and kick my feet reading romance all the time. But like does everything have to be romantic? Like I want my platonic and familiar love too. I Wana see cuddle piles between family, kisses on the forehead. Hugs between best friends, resting your feet on someone's lap when playing games.

Anyways I've been I to DC rn and batfamily be getting me rn.

Bruce doesn’t know why Jason is mad at him. At this point, it seems to be an everyday thing.

Jason successfully integrates his way back into the family, making it possible for him to hang out with his brothers without being coerced by anyone. He comes and goes as he pleases and struts around the manor like it’s his home again.

Bruce couldn’t be happier.

So why is his second/third oldest mad at him? It seems like nowadays Jason gets mad at Bruce for breathing the wrong way, or walking too slow, or something completely nonsensical.

It all comes to a head when Jason confronts him in his office when Bruce was just finishing up some paperwork.

“What the fuck is your actual fucking problem?” Jason hissed angrily, slamming his fist down on Bruce’s mahogany table.

Bruce distantly hopes that it won’t leave a mark, but for now, he’s more focused on why his son is swearing at him.

“Hello Jason.” Bruce decides to start, giving him a second to collect his thoughts and mentally see if he’s done anything lately. “I’m afraid I don’t understand-“

“Bullshit! Absolute fucking bullshit!” Jason spat, cutting Bruce off.

Bruce’s eyebrows wrinkled slightly at the many curses directed at him. It’s not like he wasn’t used to it; Gotham is his home, but he just doesn’t know why.

“When was the last time you fucking talked to me?” Jason questioned, rounding the desk and jabbing a finger in Bruce’s shoulder.

This causes Bruce to blink, somehow even more confused than before. “I don’t understand. I’m talking to you right now. And we spoke yesterday.”

“No, you walked into the room looking for Golden Boy, saw me and said some fake ass greeting before turning and basically running away!” Jason swung his hands around, making Bruce lean back in his chair to avoid getting hit. “Why are you avoiding me? I thought… I thought you had forgiven me and stuff…”

“What? Of course I have! You’re always welcome here!”

“Then why are you avoiding me? You don’t invite me places, y-you barely speak to me nowadays…”

Bruce picked at the peeling arm of his swivel chair, peeling off a small portion of the black paint and ripping it into smaller pieces before dropping it on the ground. Alfred would probably make him clean it up. “I’m giving you space.”

Jason blinked, looking down at Bruce in confusion. “Space? Why are you giving me space- so much space? You're never fucking around anymore!”

“Well… because you hate me?”

“What..?”

“You told me…” Bruce says slowly, barely stopping himself from scratching at his arm in the tense silence, a habit Alfred made sure he broke. “You’ve told me multiple times how you hate me… and that I’m not your Dad.”

Jason gaped at Bruce, taking a moment to sit on the edge of Bruce’s desk, running a hand down his face. “Fuck Bruce! I-I wasn’t- ugh! I wasn’t being fucking serious!”

Bruce squints, his eyes darting around Jason's angry and confused expression.

“But… you said it? Why would you say that if you didn’t mean it?” Bruce asked quietly, his chest tightening like it does when he wants to cry.

He hasn’t felt this way in a long time. At least, not so strongly. The kind of feeling that you get when you know everyone around you understands something that you can’t. Why would Jason say something he didn’t mean?

Why did Bruce have to be so fucking stupid. He's supposed to be the world's greatest detective, so why does he always have a hard time deciphering what people mean? Especially his children.

“I don’t understand,” Bruce repeated, his eyes stinging as he flapped his hands before drumming them softly on the arm of his swivel chair, trying to calm himself down. “You’ve said it. You say it all the time.”

“Bruce-“

“All of you say it! You say that you hate me, so you hate me!” Bruce insisted, no longer looking at Jason, the study felt significantly smaller now. “Why would you say it if you don’t mean it? Why would you say something so mean?”

“… Dad…” Jason whispered softly, slowly taking Bruce’s hands in his own. Bruce hadn’t even noticed that his fingernails were painfully digging into the palm of his hand, leaving angry red half moons.

“Dad, if you think that we hate you, then why…?” Jason gestures widely, pointing at nothing in particular yet everything at the same time. “Why do you do this for us? Why are you still here?”

Bruce tilted his head in confusion. Not a single second of this conversation has made any sense to him but he knows this part, it is woven into the very fabric of his being. “Because I love you. I love all of you.”