@staff why the fuck are ads taking up my full fucking screen while I’m scrolling??? And I have to wait to press an x to click out?? Like it was bad enough when I was struggling to scroll past them
Ummmmm. I just got a full page fucking ad after clicking on someone’s page, what the fuck was that about!!!!!!! Admins don’t make me go john wick on your asses, change that shit back to normal NOW
Bruce Wayne had been adjusting his tie in front of the mirror when Alfred suggested he bring one of the children to the gala. Bruce immediately shot the idea down. The last few times he’d brought one of his kids, something had gone wrong. Dick had somehow convinced a room full of wealthy donors to participate in a dessert-stacking competition. Jason had nearly started a fight with a businessman. Tim had fallen asleep halfway through the event, and Damian had released an exotic bird into the ballroom. Alfred listened to every excuse with practiced patience before calmly suggesting another name.
“Miss Y/N.”
Bruce frowned.
“Y/N? She’s too young for these kinds of events.”
The second the words left his mouth, Alfred’s expression changed.
“Sir,” he said carefully, “Miss Y/N is sixteen.”
The realization hit Bruce harder than expected. Sixteen. He stared at Alfred for a moment, trying to process it. Somehow, in his mind, Y/N was still the little girl who wore plastic tiaras around the manor and begged him to attend tea parties. Yet Alfred was right. She wasn’t a child anymore. In fact, Bruce couldn’t remember the last birthday he’d attended, the last school event he’d asked about, or even the last time he’d sat down and talked to her without being interrupted by patrols or work.
After several minutes, Bruce found himself standing outside her bedroom door. He knocked once before stepping inside. The room immediately felt wrong—not because it was messy or unfamiliar, but because it wasn’t the room he remembered. The shelves that had once been overflowing with stuffed animals now held makeup palettes, perfume bottles, and jewelry organizers. The rack of princess dresses he vaguely remembered seeing years ago had been replaced by clothes that looked much older. The walls were covered in photos, but the faces smiling back at him were strangers. Friends. Classmates. Entire groups of people Bruce had never met.
Bruce found another photo. A birthday, candles, cake, friends. No family. His chest tightened. He kept looking. More pictures. More memories. Entire years of her life displayed on the wall. Years he’d missed. Not because he was gone. Not because he was dead. Not because he couldn’t. Because he hadn’t made the time.
He slowly walked further into the room, studying the pictures. There were school dances, sleepovers, vacations. Years of memories frozen in frames. Bruce found himself searching each photograph for a familiar face—Dick, Barbara, Alfred, anyone—but most of them contained only Y/N and her friends. There were entire chapters of her life hanging on these walls that he knew absolutely nothing about.
A voice finally pulled him from his thoughts.
Y/N sat at her vanity with headphones on, completely unaware he was there. She was laughing at something on a group call while carefully applying makeup. Bruce froze for a moment. When had she learned how to do that? When had she started wearing makeup at all? When had her face lost its childish roundness? The girl sitting there looked so much older than the little daughter he remembered.
One of her friends finally noticed Bruce standing behind her and immediately began frantically pointing. Confused, Y/N turned around in her chair. Her eyes widened when she saw him.
“Dad?”
The girls on the call were visibly freaking out, one appeared to mouth, “IS THAT BRUCE WAYNE?”. Y/N quickly muted herself.
Bruce suddenly felt awkward in a way that few things could make him feel.
“Hi.”
“…Hi.”
After a brief silence, Bruce glanced around the room again.
“What happened to everything?”
Y/N looked confused.
“What do you mean?”
“Your toys. The stuffed animals. The princess dresses.”
For a moment she simply stared at him. Then something softened in her expression. Not amusement. Not annoyance.
Sadness.
The kind reserved for someone who was years too late.
“Dad,” she said quietly.
Bruce met her eyes.
“I grew up.”
The words weren’t angry, but they struck harder than any accusation could have. Bruce looked around the room again, and suddenly all he could see were the years he’d missed. Every missing stuffed animal. Every replaced decoration. Every unfamiliar face in the photographs represented a moment he hadn’t been there for. He hadn’t watched her outgrow fairy tales. He hadn’t watched her discover makeup, make friends, develop hobbies, or become the young woman sitting in front of him now. His daughter had grown up right under his roof, and somehow he’d missed almost all of it.
When Bruce finally spoke again, his voice was quieter than before.
“I was wondering if you’d come to a gala with me tonight.”
Y/N blinked.
“A gala?”
“Just us.”
For a second she looked genuinely surprised. As if the idea of him wanting to spend time with her hadn’t even crossed her mind. That realization hurt almost as much as everything else.
“Just us?” she repeated.
Bruce nodded.
For a moment, she seemed to debate whether to believe him. Then she smiled—a small, cautious smile.
“Okay.”
And for the first time in a long time, Bruce realized he wasn’t afraid of villains, criminals, or Gotham’s endless dangers.
He was afraid that one day he’d look up again and discover he’d missed the rest of her life too.
dividers - meeee
1/2 fics posted for the week, lil just dance battle with the kents
"Hey, hey, whoa. What's going on?" Jason is immediately in fix-it mode, serious as can be.
There are three things that Jason doesn't play about in his life. His work as Red Hood, Arlo, and you.
"Arlo, he- he's-"
"He's what, baby?" It comes out rushed as he hurries around his apartment to quickly slip on his boots and grab his jacket and keys.
what happens when the dog that you and jason coparent together goes missing
pairing: jason todd x f!reader
cw: no use of y/n, your dog has an established name, your dog is not Dog sorry :(, use of pet names (baby), you and jason are broken up, you share custody of the dog you adopted during your relationship, angst with a happy ending
wc: 2.7k
The rain that pelted down from the sky above was frigid, cold enough to turn to slush you were certain as it hit your face. It was dark and everything was wet as you ran down the sidewalk. Tears mixed with rain when you called out again,
"Arlo!"
With no sign from your dog.
"Arlo!" You call again before another roll of thunder shakes the sky above. "Come on boy, where are you?"
The storm was so bad that even the petty criminals had taken shelter inside. The sidewalk around you was completely bareen, only a few cars driving by on the dark road. Arlo, the dog you shared custody of with your ex Jason, had gotten scared by a roll of thunder and tore out of his leash as he ran off like a bat out of Hell. What was supposed to be a quick walk before bed had turned into a twenty minute search for the poor pup in the pouring rain in nothing but your sleep shorts, some shirt that you (refused to admit) stole from Jason, your slippers and a thin sweater.
"Arlo, baby!" You sniffle. Still no sign. "Please." Your voice cracks. You know there's only one thing left to do.
With your hand shaking, fingers icy cold, you bring your phone to your ear after hitting Jason's contact.
"Aw, miss me already?" Not even a hello from him.
"Jay-" His name comes out broken.
"Hey, hey, whoa. What's going on?" Jason is immediately in fix-it mode, serious as can be.
There are three things that Jason doesn't play about in his life. His work as Red Hood, Arlo, and you.
"Arlo, he- he's-"
"He's what, baby?" It comes out rushed as he hurries around his apartment to quickly slip on his boots and grab his jacket and keys.
"Breathe and focus, okay?" His voice is full of panic but he speaks so calmly and gently to you that it only amplifies the guilt bubbling deep in your stomach.
You take a deep, ragged breath before nodding. The sniffle you let out breaks Jason's heart.
"C'mon, talk to me." He says, shutting his apartment door behind him. You tell yourself to focus and sniffle one more time.
"He's gone, Jay. He- I was walking him, before bed. The thunder scared him and he ran off. I have no idea where he is." You explain, still looking around.
"Did you put his vest on him?" You can hear Jason getting in his car and turning the engine.
"No," you admit with a tremble of your bottom lip, ready to start crying all over again.
"He should-"
"Jason."
You already know a lecture is about to start. "He should always have his vest on if you're walking him alone. It keeps both of you safe, blah blah blah"
"Okay, I'm sorry." He sighs.
"It was just supposed to be a quick walk before bed." You explain as your voice threatens to crack again.
"I know, I know." Jason's trying to stay calm for the both of your sake. "I'm on my way right now."
You wrap your free arm around your stomach and it's then that you realize just how cold you are, now that you've calmed down knowing that Jason was on his way.
"Do you want me to send you-"
"Nope. I already got it." He doesn't let you finish, his voice gentle.
"How-?" You shake your head. "Nevermind, I don't want to know."
Because of course your vigilante-raised-by-Gotham's-greatest-detective ex boyfriend is still tracking you.
"Okay well, do you at least have a tracker on Arlo?" You ask. Because if he's tracking you surely he's-
"What? No, that's wrong." Jason answers.
You stop with a grimace on your face.
"What do you mean "that's wrong"?"
"He's a dog, he can't consent to me putting a tracker in him."
"We put a microchip in him!" You argue back.
"No, the vet put a microchip in him. Not us. Besides-"
"Did you put a microchip in me?!" You ask in horror.
The silence speaks volumes.
"So, anyway, I'll be there in ten minutes."
"Jason!"
True to his word Jason takes exactly ten minutes to get to your location, giving you plenty of time to spiral and - you're pretty sure - start to develop hypothermia under the cover of a business awning. He pulls his car to the curb and throws it into park, barely giving the car enough time to fully come to a stop before he's hurrying out and shrugging his jacket off.
"What are you doing out here in your pajamas?" Jason's doing his best not to scold you as he bundles you in his warm jacket.
Your fingers are cold as they brush his when you slip your arms into the sleeves. He doesn't comment on his stolen shirt that you're wearing. The jacket smells sickening familiar; the warmth and musk of his cologne, the cleanliness of his deodorant, and mint.
"Are you smoking again?" You ask in return, not answering his question.
Jason stops, hands still on your shoulders, and cocks his head.
"What?"
"You're chewing gum, you're smoking again aren't you?"
"I- that's not- you never said why you're in pajamas."
Smoking was a bad habit of his that he had before you started dating. He'd always chew gum after to help get rid of the smell that you always complained about.
"Because I was walking Arlo before bed." You respond quietly.
He sighs before answering your question.
"I might've smoked on the way over. Stressed about Arlo being out here…" Jason's hands move to your face when you catches your bottom lip wobble.
"Hey, it's okay," he murmurs. His palms are warm against your cold skin. "We'll find him."
He sounds so sure, like he knows for 100% fact you're going to find Arlo, that it starts to renew your dwindling confidence on the matter. So you sniff one more time and nod your head.
"Right. We'll find him." And though your voice comes out small and shaky, you feel better than you have all night.
"Good," Jason smiles. His thumb slowly trails the apple of your cheek before he quietly exhales through his nose and let's go. "Which way did he go?"
You and Jason spend hours waking up and down each side of the street calling out for Arlo. He keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulders even though the storm has died down. He makes you stand on the sidewalk while he checks every alley, looking behind dumpsters and around corners. And still…
"You should head home," Jason's starting to sound defeated and you hate it. "I'll keep looking and-"
"No," you stop on the sidewalk, eyebrows scrunching together as you look at him, "No way. I'm not leaving."
"You're freezing-"
"I don't care. I'm not going home until we find Arlo." You declare.
Jason looks at you and sees the resolution in your eyes. He debates on arguing with you, he knows that his jacket is doing little to protect you from the cold, but he also knows — from years of experience — that arguing with you when you're like this is pointless.
"Okay." He finally breathes out with a soft nod, pulling you closer to him before he starts walking again. "Then we keep going.
You're both soaked to the bone. Jason's hair is plastered to his face, his dark shirt almost see through, you think that if you have to spend another minute in the rain you might actually start to lose your mind.
"We've searched every block," Your teeth chatter when you speak up. "Do you think…?"
"What?" Jason cocks an eyebrow. It's obvious that he's not in the mood for your "worst case scenario".
"What if someone picked him up?"
"He's a menace, they'll drop his ass off at the shelter and they'll scan his microchip." He shrugs. You know he's trying to put you at ease.
"He's not a menace." You try to keep the smile off of your face, but it's hard when Jason looks over at you with a softness in eyes that speak more than his words ever could.
"He's definitely a menace." He says quietly as he squeezes you just that much closer.
"Only because he takes after his Dad." You respond teasingly.
"I take offense to that." Jason bites back. His lips twitch but he doesn't let himself smile.
"You take offense to everything." You remind him, smiling yourself.
"And now I'm taking offense to that." His tone holds mock indignation and it's hard to hold back your laugh.
It's almost too easy to fall back into a routine with him. Too easy to joke with him, send sarcastic quips his way, be held by him. So easy, in fact, that all of the fights and sleepless nights you spent arguing back and forth and countless tears shed for him are a distant memory.
You're close to going back on your word and calling it a night. You're so close to telling Jason you'll just try again in the morning and ask if you can spend the rest of the night begging for forgiveness. Your thoughts are spiraling, you're cold and exhausted and
"Do you hear that?" Jason suddenly asks.
The two of you stop walking so you can try to hear what he does.
"Hear what?" You whisper. You're on high alert, looking for any signs of danger or Arlo.
"That. Do you hear that?" He repeats. Again you hear nothing.
"No…" you answer. "You and your freaky super bat hearing, what is it?"
"It is not freaky-" he starts to defend himself before he stops. "Stay here, there's something down this alley."
When Jason disappears down the alley you wait at the mouth, trying to peer into the darkness. It's useless, you can't see anything - not even Jason anymore. And what's worse is that you can't hear anything either.
After a minute, which felt like hours, you can barely make out the soft tone of Jason's voice.
"C'mere buddy, s'okay." "That's here, come here." "Good boy. Good boy, Arlo."
You take a step further into the alley, and then another and another, until you're running into the darkness. You're ignoring all of Jason's previous warnings about staying out of them because none of that matters if he's found your baby.
"Look, buddy, there she is. There's Mama, huh?" Jason coos to Arlo who's a shivering wet mess in Jason's arms.
A small gasp leaves your lips when you see him. You kneel beside Jason and gravel bites into your skin but the pain doesn't matter. All that matters is that Arlo is safe and coming home. You wrap your arms around the wet pup and bury your face into his cold fur before letting out a cry. Jason sits there for just a second before putting a hand on the back of your head.
"Hey, it's okay. He's fine." He tells you quietly.
"No, it's not okay." You cry into Arlo's fur. Arlo wiggles in your hold, trying to get closer to you. "I lost him, Jason. Me. I did. He could have gotten hurt or-"
The pain in your voice has Jason pulling you closer to him. The three of you now huddled together in the middle of the alley.
"I know, baby, but it was an accident. Accidents happen. I'm sure it would have happened to me if-"
"But it didn't happen to you."
He's quiet again, exhaling slowly through his nose.
"I know it didn't. It happened to you and it shouldn't have." His fingers stroke through your hair before he let's go, "Come on. Let's get you guys home."
The ride back to your apartment is quiet and tense. Arlo is in the backseat of Jason's car curled up in a shivering ball. It breaks your heart. Jason, on the other hand, has been uncharacteristically quiet the entire time. After, of course, telling you a thousand and one times that it was fine if you got his car seats wet. That didn't stop the guilt from eating away at you.
But you were thankful to be home. Your apartment was warm and after rinsing off yourself and Arlo, with Jason's help of course, you were feeling better. Just a little bit. Arlo sleeping on the couch next to Jason who had changed into an old pair of sweats and a shirt you had "just lying around for no reason what so ever", you in fresh warm clothes. It almost felt normal again.
You're starting a fresh pot of coffee for Jason when he quietly gets up from the couch and pads over next to you in your kitchen. The same way he used to when you were together and he would come up behind you to wrap his arms around you and press a kiss to your temple.
Only this time he stops a few feet away from you and quietly asks, "Hey, can we talk?"
You stop as your stomach drops to your ass with anxiety and guilt. You're thinking of every worst possible scenario.
"About what?" You keep your voice steady.
"I want to make a deal with you."
"Please don't tell me you want to switch our custody agreement." You practically whimper. The thought alone makes your chest ache.
"What? No," Jason shakes his head with a huff of a laugh leaving him. "God, no, I wouldn't- I wouldn't do that to you. Or Arlo." He looks over at Arlo who's still asleep on the couch before turning back to you.
"Whenever it's raining I'll come over and walk Arlo for you. Or with you." He suggests.
You give yourself a second to think over the proposal, your arms wrapping around yourself. Not what you expected but at the same time you're not sure what to think.
"That's- that would be too much." It's your turn to shake your head. "It's too inconvenient. Besides, I can walk him myself. I just need to remember his vest next time."
Jason hums in thought before he nods again. He's trying to come up with any plan he can to be able to spend more time with you and he's hoping you won't see through his bullshit.
"Okay, what about I come over and help whenever there's a thunderstorm?"
"Jason-"
"What?" He plays nonchalant. "I just.. don't want either of you getting hurt. You know how I feel about you walking around at night."
You huff in irritation.
"You always do this, you know that?" You take a step closer to him. "I know how to handle myself."
The smirk that tugs at his mouth makes you want to smack him.
"Oh trust me, I know. So does the scar on my thigh-"
"That was an accident!" You defend yourself with a reluctant laugh and Jason starts to smile fully.
"An accident? You're still sticking to that story? Babe, you stabbed with a fork!"
"You scared me!" You laugh again. "Why would you even come up behind me like that anyway? It's your own fault."
"I did train you well." He remarks smugly before stepping closer.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." You wave him off with a shake of your head but his hand catches yours.
And when he steps even closer? When the air between you becomes tense and warm? When his thumb smooths across the palm of your hand? Your eyes widen and you breath catches and a quiet "Jason?" leaves your parted lips.
"Just let me help." He murmurs. "Let me…." He doesn't say "let me in again" like he wants to, but you can hear it when he adds on a soft "Please?".
And it probably goes against your better judgement when you easily nod in agreement.
"Yeah, okay…"
You don't think about the fights or the screaming or the storming out that plagued that your previous relationship when he wraps his arms around you. You don't think about all of the nasty things you said to each other in the heat of an argument when he presses his lips to the top of your head.
All you can think about is how right it feels when he holds you close and lets himself love you without fear or uncertainty.
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