chloé anne

cis she/her | writer | 24

[anne-chloe]

-ˏˋ⋆ ᴡ ᴇ ʟ ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴇ ⋆ˊˎ-

M. List

𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓁𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓃𝑒 𝓂𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

ᵖᵒᵖᵖʸ ᵖˡᵃʸᵗⁱᵐᵉ

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼 𓇼 ⋆.˚

𝙢𝙮 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙝𝙡𝙤𝙚. 𝙞𝙢 23 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜.

𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙭𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙘 𝙗𝙖𝙩𝙢𝙖𝙣 (𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙩𝙛𝙖𝙢). 𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙟𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙤𝙙𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙞𝙢 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙮𝙨𝙤𝙣.

𝙞 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙𝙪𝙡𝙚 (𝙧𝙞𝙥), 𝙞 𝙨𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙪𝙥𝙡𝙤𝙖𝙙 𝙗𝙖𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙣 𝙫𝙞𝙗𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣.

𝙘𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙚. 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨.

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼 𓇼 ⋆.˚

𝘶𝘱𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘪𝘤 - 𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘩𝘢𝘮 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘫𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘥 𝘹 𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘶𝘱𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘪𝘤 - 𝘫𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘥 𝘹 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 (𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘢𝘯)

𝘶𝘱𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘪𝘤 - “𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭” 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘮 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘹 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴏʀ ꜰᴇᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴀɪ

divider credit to this user!

[anne-chloe]

this depression spiral is lasting longer than I anticipated it to

[gothamgraveyard]

Waynes visiting the Kents:

Jason: This feels like a cult.

Dick: Just do it.

Tim: Is this... necessary?

Damian: Are we forming a circle of trust?

Clark: We're saying grace.

Bruce: Ah. Thank you for the carbohydrates.

[poetrylesbian]

[papayafromtv]

i’m all for the angst potential of Dick Grayson being the one kid that Bruce never legally adopted and rather just kept as a ward and that causing insecurities for Dick, but at the moment all i can think about is how much funnier it would be if it was the complete other way round regarding who felt rejected about the whole thing. Tim and Damian find out Dick isn’t a legal adoptee of Bruce Wayne and rally to ‘have their brother’s back’ and go to confront Bruce on the matter, and Jason’s next to him when it happens and he starts crying laughing while Bruce just gets a really uncomfortable look on his face.

Jason, losing his mind: you think- you think BRUCE excluded DICK?! no no no bubba, it’s the other way around,

Bruce: *looking at the ground intently*

Damian: i don’t understand. why did Father not adopt Grayson then?

Jason, genuinely struggling to breathe: he- he tried- *high pitched, now on his hands and knees on the floor to wheeze* Dick- god this is my favourite story ever- Dick didn’t want him-

Tim and Damian:

Tim and Damian: what.

Bruce, blushing slightly: it wasn’t that he didn’t want me, we were just in different places in the relationship,

Jason: *wheezes*

Bruce: Jason shut up.

Tim: i don’t understand.

Jason: he- he asked Dick if he wanted to be adopted, and Dick looked him right in the fucking eyes and went ‘nah, thanks.’ and walked away,

Damian: …are you being serious?

Bruce: he didn’t want anybody to take a legal role that could replace his parents, which is fully understandable and i respect it completely; he’s my child regardless of the legal specifics,

Jason: *dry heaving on the floor*

Bruce: …though it did sting a little bit when i told him ‘you know in my heart you are my son, right?’ and he looked at me and said ‘yeah.’ and nothing else.

Jason: *painful wheeze*

Bruce, starting to get slightly indignant: …-it’s also just slightly awkward whenever people come up to me and bring it up- all ‘why don’t you adopt Dick, don’t you want to?’ and then they list off all the benefits of legally adopting him and i have to stand there staring at them thinking ‘yeah i fucking agree.’

Tim and Damian:

Tim: i’m starting to think we’ve struck a nerve here,

Bruce: -you know i really poured my heart into that ‘i want to adopt you’ speech—had a powerpoint and everything, told him i loved him, basically got down on one knee with the contract. and this little shit stared me in the face wearing my fucking hand-me-downs, and was like ‘i think we should just be friends’ like how in the hell-

Jason, weakly from the floor: god i’m- please, i’m in pain,

Tim and Damian: *awkwardly watching Bruce rant while Jason cries on the floor next to him*

Tim and Damian:

Damian: this may have been a mistake-

Tim: does this mean that Jason being adopted was basically just Dick breaking up with Bruce and Bruce being so heartbroken that he went and rebounded with the first kid he found on the nearest street corner?

Bruce: *pauses rant*

Bruce:

Bruce: WHY DO PEOPLE KEEP SAYING THAT?

Jason: *starts laughing even louder*

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Shout-out to all the stories that didn't make it out of the shower with us in time to be actually written down.

[mystiquevoid]

bruce, did you ever love me?

“So that’s it?” The question cut through the air—sharp and bitter in its delivery, yet still edged with a kind of hurt that only a woman scorned could muster up. The tremor in your hands was blatant. White-hot fury illuminated your eyes in a way your lover hadn’t witnessed before.

Never had you directed your anger toward Bruce, at least not like this.

You were the fun girlfriend who brought joy into his demanding life. You were the supportive girlfriend who didn’t ask too many questions. You were the understanding girlfriend who gave forgiveness freely.

You weren’t meant to lash out, weren’t used to letting those pesky doubts pave the way for actual conflict. You didn’t want to do this.

But with every passing month spent by Bruce’s side—knowing what everyone said about him—spite had been festering within you. Almost like a parasite, it’d taken a hold of you before you could even realize it.

You saw the tabloids daily. You knew what the public perception of your relationship looked like. In fact, you were painfully aware of how certain the majority of people were in their assumption that Bruce Wayne would surely return to his playboy roots sooner or later.

Proving them right was a bitter pill to swallow.

Stupid; that’s how you felt after not having predicted this outcome. With all the warnings you’d been ignoring, you almost blamed yourself.

The silence stretched on, and your heart broke a little more at his lack of a response. You used to love how calm and collected Bruce was—thought it balanced out the temper you could barely control at times. Now you found yourself hating how unreadable his face was.

Frustration turned into rage, as you pushed against his chest and shouted, “Speak up already! You owe me that much, don’t you?!”

A disbelieving scoff left your parted lips. “Or is that also too much to expect after the two years you have spent making a fool of me in the public eye?” Your voice held steady, but your eyes betrayed you.

Beneath the surface, Bruce could recognize the hurt pooling in them.

But he couldn’t tell you the truth. Not involving you in his life of fighting crime had been a conscious decision. Keeping you in the dark was for the best, even if holding on to this secret would break your trust in him.

Bruce would rather have you hate him than have you be in danger as a result of his selfishness. He couldn’t be selfish; not with you. His love for you had stopped him from that before even his morality ever could.

He wasn’t deserving of good things. They never lasted. He knew that now. Hurting you had never been his intention, though. Fuck, he hadn’t even intended for you to get as close to him as you did. You were a civilian—someone who only knew him as Bruce, and not as the Bat.

You had no idea of what being with him truly meant. So he had tried to keep his distance, to stop whatever was happening between you two before it could ever truly ignite. But it was pointless. Your persistence, your affection, your warmth; they’d cracked his resolve quicker than he could have prevented it. You made it impossible for love not to bloom.

The seeds of trust you’d planted in the beginnings of your relationship blossomed in spite of the light Bruce lacked to nurture them at times.

Your love had felt like a magnolia in May. Seeing you like this made Bruce wonder if his neglect had truly caused its petals to wither away.

Bruce wanted to pull you closer. Instinct called for him to reach out to you, to reassure you, to tell you that none of these claims held any real substance to them. It seemed impossible to convince you, though, that the damning pictures paparazzi had leaked of him leaving a notorious strip club downtown meant nothing. He couldn’t tell you the actual reason why he was there—not without exposing his vigilante lifestyle.

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it once more. Still, no words.

You felt a familiar burning sensation in your nostrils—a warning for the tears that were already beginning to sting at the corners of your eyes.

Schooling your expression, you took a step back from Bruce, as though being near him filled you with disgust. “Fuck you,” you spat out, but your voice lacked its previous passion. Then, you turned around and left. With you, you took any hope he had held onto for a brighter future.

A flower simply couldn’t persevere in the face of darkness, and if Bruce was honest with himself, he knew that the darkness had become a part of him a long time ago. He’d settle for admiring his magnolia from afar.

And he did. Letting you go had wrecked him, yet seeing you shine once more brought him back to life. Months passed, then a year, and still, Bruce found himself wishing he could have been the right man for you. If only he could’ve been the gentle-faced blonde man on whose arm you hung these days. The one that had no secrets to keep from you.

The one who Bruce heard had proposed to you recently. The one you had said yes to. In another world, would you have said yes to him too?

In a world where Bruce had been the one to ask you to be his wife instead of breaking your heart? A simpler world, one that allowed for him not to be the twisted man he was doomed to be in this one.

Marriage had been a thought for him at the time. More and more often had he looked at his late mother’s wedding ring and thought of what a future would look like with you by his side forever as Mrs. Wayne.

Bruce wondered if you would think of him when you walked down the aisle toward another man, stepping into a life that should have been his. A rotten part of him hoped you would. The astute part knew it.

em’s masterlist | bruce wayne masterlist wc: 1.0k request: no

˙⋆✮ a/n: feel like i started strong but got rly lazy at some point 💀 tbh i’m a bit cringed out by my metaphors in this but i cba to change ts 😬

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[inkskinned]

Every day I handle more money than I will ever make. Every day.

At the start of my employment, my boss showed me videos of people stealing, and we both had a chuckle about it. How silly they were! There was a camera overhead, and it’s not to watch the shoppers. See, we can’t actually stop shoplifters. They get away with it maybe nine out of ten times. But we, who are watched and tallied and witnessed? We are always caught.

At first it was hard to hold one hundred dollars bills. An amount I had never seen before. An amount that didn’t exist in my household. It’s normal now. Here is something that is not for me.

“What the hell, I’ll take another,” says the man, pondering our 200 dollar watches. What the hell. Total comes to 580 and not even a flinch in his face. I have been working for 11 hours today and made only 110 dollars. It will go to my rent. Today I work for free, it feels. When I get my check, I will have 35 dollars left for food and saving.

The six hundreds he hands me go into the cash register. For a moment, I imagine having money. Then I put it away, counting out his change.

I know for a fact we sell our products for double what they are worth. That I could be making commission. That they could hand me those 580 dollars and change my life and not even mark the difference in their checkbooks. He’s not the only sale they make today, but I am the reason they made it. He’s not the only one spending 600 dollars, but if I hadn’t spent two hours with him telling me about his life, he wouldn’t have spent any. I go home. I don’t own a watch.

I have watched and rewatched a video on how to make salmon four ways. My shopping list is always the same. Pasta. Rice. Tuna. If I can afford butter it was a good week. I dream of the world I will never walk in, where I can throw the best fish fillet in the cart with a shrug. I hold hundreds in my hand and look up at the camera. I put them under the cash drawer.

I go to work. I scrap together my savings. I eat my bowl of rice slowly. My manager takes a paid week off from work just for his birthday. He owns a yacht. 

I’m not worth the cost of a watch.

[inkskinned]

i wrote this while i was working at orlando’s walt disney world parks.

i was part of their college program. i moved to the state for it. they legally owned the building i was living in and still charged me rent. i ostensibly was being charged to work for them. it was a 2 bedroom apartment and they placed 6 adult women in it in forced triples.

as many as one in ten disney employees have experienced homelessness while working for the company. despite huge efforts to unionize, strike, or otherwise demand fair treatment; disney has refused to increase employee quality of life.

disney admits publicly that a good portion of their success is because the employees (“cast members”) are dedicated, passionate, and selfless. this is never reflected in pay. even “face” characters (ie those that are princesses etc) make barely above a minimum wage.

at the time that i worked there, i made $8.50 an hour. at one point i was asked to create a human shield around a bag because a bomb dog had alerted to it. for eight fucking dollars an hour.

i now work a very cushy office job. i have bought the salmon and cooked it all four ways.

i go to the store. i am nice to the person behind the counter. she looks up at the camera while she counts out my change. there is nothing fundamentally different about her and i.

we are both worth more than the watch, anyway.

[anxietyproblem]

[brinawing]

it’s called sleeper build!

tim drake x ken!reader, crack fic, fluff, suggestive, language, OOC lois and clark :)

fanart by @/pinghyu

“I could absolutely lift you,” your boyfriend argued for the twentieth from where he was sprawled on the living room carpet.

His shirtless body, was only clad in a pair of loose black sweatpants. The remnants of sleep still clinging onto his blue eyes and messy hair made him look all the bit more attractive to you and if it wasn’t for the kitchen counter and the couch separating you both, you would have jumped his bones. Again.

“Tim, sweetheart,” you started, trying to tell him that he was wrong as nicely as you could.

He had come over for the weekend over to your place and was doing crunches when he had the sudden great idea and asked you if he could bench press you. You –a half kryptonian who has on multiple occasions flown over buildings with him in your arms.

“No I know you’re freakishly strong and all but I’m a vigilante too. I train,” he frowned and got up from the carpet.

“I believe you! You know how much I love when you work out,” you smirked, watching his abs shining with a sheen layer of sweat that had covered his sculpted torso due to the million crunches he just did.

He took languid steps and walked over to where you were leaning forward on the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee in your hands. The drawstrings of his sweatpants were undone, causing them to fall dangerously low on his beautiful narrow hips and the way he let out chuckle was enough to let you know that he was aware of your eyes being glued to his body.

“Come here,” he murmured in his sleepy lazy voice and grabbed the coffee mug out of your hands.

“Tim,” you dramatically groaned when he came up behind you and snaked his hands under his shirt that you wore to bed last night. “You’re strong and muscular and have biceps I believe you.”

“I don’t think you do sweetheart,” he murmured lazily against your ear. “Just let me try,” he said in between soft and gentle kisses to your neck.

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” you accidentally said –way too gone by the feeling of his lips on your skin. “You’re strong I know but I have super strength. You’re a cutie, you’re tech strong. And maybe Gotham strong,” you tried to reinstate which apparently only made it worse.

He halted his movements. Your heart almost dropped but you were already scrambling for things to say to make it better but he didn’t give you the chance as he whirled you around to face him.

“Really?” He cocked an eyebrow, pale blue eyes turning navy.

“I meant–” You began to speak but got cut off with how quickly he bent down and threw you over his shoulder. “Tim!” You screamed, flailing your arms to grip his bare torso in fear.

“Tech strong huh?” He goaded you on and landed a smack on your bare ass.

“Okay I get it!” You managed to speak. “Put me down now.”

“No, I need to work out some more,” he said and sat back down cross legged on the floor and manoeuvred you into his arms until he was holding you up like weights.

“You can’t just flail me around,” you complained but instead of replying he gave you a quick kiss and laid back on the carpeted floor.

“Hmm, perfect,” he said without even letting out a grunt and began moving you up and down in the air.

“I’m not a rag doll,” you huffed.

“You’re my doll,” he cheekily replied and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“You’re a competitive freak,” you chided.

“Maybe but I won didn’t I?” he smiled and craned his neck forward to press a kiss to your lips. “Okay weighted push ups,” he said next and pulled you down next to him.

“You won’t die if you miss one day Duckie,” you giggled.

“Yeah but my girlfriend thinks I’m ‘tech smart’ it’s about my dignity,” he said and moved into a plank before gesturing for you to sit on his back.

“You’re ridiculous,” you chuckled before latching yourself onto his back with your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. “Go nuts boy wonder,” you whispered and pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder.

“Count for me sweetheart,” he smugly said and began moving up and down.

“Okay you’ve made your point,” you said once he was done with at least twenty five pushups.

“Never underestimate me again,” he quipped and flipped you two in the blink of an eye so that you were now the one being pinned under him.

“You can’t blame me okay, you don’t look like a body builder,” you replied and pushed his hair off his forehead.

“It’s called a sleeper build. Look it up,” he narrowed his eyes at your teasing expression. “Now if you’ll be so kind as to lay there for me looking pretty, because I still have to do about fifty more.”

“What do you want me to do?” You asked but Tim soon responded by pecking you on the lips when he leaned down to do a push up. “Oh I see, you’re a full cheesy man today.”

“Call it what you want,” he shrugged and continued doing pushups with you pinned below him, giving you small pecks each time he came down.

“Okay enough,” you groaned after the twentieth and pulled him on top of you with your arms around his neck to give him a full kiss.

Tim chuckled into the kiss as he let himself fall limp on top of you. It was honestly a miracle how long he had been in that position but then again he’d been in that position in a lot different ways for a lot longer.

“Time for some cardio don’t you think?” He murmured against your lips as his fingers trailed up your bare thighs until he reached the waistband of your panties.

“Finally,” you huffed out dramatically and gave him a wet kiss on his collarbone.

He pressed hot kisses to your jaw, neck and collarbones –wherever he could reach before burying his face in the crook of your neck. “One of these days I’m gonna fuck you in my arms just so-”

“Hey honey!” A deep voice boomed in your apartment, coming from your front door. You didn’t need to look to know it was your father who you’d made the mistake of giving your keys to.

You pushed Tim off your body with a bit too much of your super strength that he landed against the couch. Ouch.

“Dad! Mom! Hey,” you scrambled to your feet and pulled Tim’s shirt down your thighs until it reached your knees.

“Is he one of Bruce’s?” Your mom asked your dad.

“Yeah the third one,” Clark replied with a sigh and eyed Tim with such a harsh look it almost scared you.

“Um hi,” Tim said sheepishly and gave your parents a little wave.

“Hey,” Lois chuckled and watched as Clark kept his gaze on Tim without saying a word like he was trying one of his intimidating tactics. She shut the apartment door behind them and grabbed the bag of pastries from Clark’s hands.

“Hi mom,” you said in a small voice.

“Get dressed both of you, we brought breakfast,” she smiled and pulled Clark into the kitchen with her. He was still watching Tim with his angry gaze which was anything but angry and made him look like an angry kitten. You knew your dad. You knew he hadn’t really been angry.

“Thanks,” you muttered and pushed Tim into your bedroom.

“Okay okay,” he began pacing the second you closed the door behind you. “I can leap out the window and–”

“Tim,” you laughed softly and laced his hands through yours so he could stop pacing. “It’s okay. We had to tell them someday.”

“Oh my god Kon!” Tim shuddered. “He will kill me. I was going to tell him. I just didn’t want–”

“Baby breathe,” you cupped his cheeks and made him look at you. “We just have to talk to my parents first and then we can tell Kon together. Before he finds us in a compromising position and I’ll be there too, if he tries to kill you I’ll punch him first. I’m also a Kent.”

“Right okay,” he let out a long breath and rested his forehead against yours. “I don’t usually wish I never knew superman but I’m wishing it right now.”

“He’s just acting you know he doesn’t actually hate you,” you chuckled and gave him a small kiss.

“Give me a real kiss,” he huffed and pulled you back into his chest to give you a long and slow kiss.

His lips moulded perfectly with yours while his tongue teased the seam of your lips. You could taste the coffee and apple he has for breakfast on his mouth but it was the most distinctive Tim Drake taste ever.

“I have laser vision!” Clark yelled from outside the door.

“Fuck dad!” You yelled back and pushed Tim off you.

“Be out here in thirty seconds or I’m calling Bruce.”

“Bruce would probably congratulate me for scoring to be honest,” Tim murmured and walked over to his bag pack to pull a hoodie out.

“I wouldn’t mind him tagging along for brunch to be honest,” you mindlessly said and pulled out a pair of shorts from your closet. “He’s kind of hot.”

Tim choked on his breath and let out a string of coughs. You looked at him, frowning but he just gave you a nauseated look in response.

“I put up so much with you,” he grumbled. “But don’t ever call Bruce hot again.”

“But he is!” You protested as you two walked out of your bedroom and into the kitchen. “Mom help me out here. Bruce is hot right?”

“I mean objectively speaking…” Lois started.

“Kill me now,” Tim said and turned towards Clark.

“That’s it!” Clark announced. “You stay away from the Waynes. No more Gotham for you.”

“Sit down Clark,” Lois said and patted the dining chair next to her. “Tim, take a seat. It’s good to officially meet you. I’m Lois Lane-Kent,” your mom smiled at your boyfriend who finally looked a bit less green.

“Nice to meet you too. I’ve heard a lot about you from Kon,” Tim said politely, all his upper Gotham society manners spilling out as he sat down next to you on the dining table.

“Dad stop glaring at him. You literally know him,” you sighed after ten minutes when Clark still didn’t stop glaring at Tim.

“I know him as Bruce’s son. I don’t know him as a shirtless boy who was making out with my daughter on the floor like a heathen. Who knows what could have happened if we hadn’t come?” Clark rambled.

“Okay I was not making out with your daughter on the floor. I was working out and…” Tim trailed off, realising he actually didn’t know how to explain what was happening.

“But would you rather I be with some random guy who you don’t even know?” You said and lazily took a sip of your orange juice.

“I would rather he ask me for permission before courting my daughter,” Clark demanded.

“Right,” Lois snorted. “Like you asked my parents?”

“That’s different. I never defiled you on the floor.”

“Dad!” You gasped. “He was not defiling me what the heck!”

“He was on top of you! Naked!” Clark hissed.

It was safe to say the rest of the brunch went by excruciatingly slow and painful.

random blurb bc im in a writing slump!!!! sorry if its shite guys i literally cannot write for some reason

likes, comments and reblogs appreciated! hope you guys enjoy <3

[vianawaits]

Kent!reader is my favorite reader of all time and my fav writer has just paired her with my fav Robin.

Life is magical

[anne-chloe]

omg i have two mutuals this is so exciting

[yoongikook]

my cuteness aggression has reached max levels

[thestudiousarmy]

The fact that I haven’t reblogged this is a sin. He looks like a baby, I can’t with him.

[gothamgraveyard]

"Babe, what, and I stress this, the fuck?"

Part 2 is out! (Tim, and Duke's portion)

Dick Grayson x crazygf! reader and Jason Todd x crazygf!reader

Summary: You find out that they still kind of talk to their ex. It's professional, but you're not over it.

TW: Kind of smutty, death mentioned (Jason's part)

DICK GRAYSON

"Just answer the fucking question, Dick! Did you sleep with her in the Batcave? Yes or no?”

"No!" Dick groaned, dragging his hands down his face, his voice cracking with frustration. His eyes were bloodshot. "We did not do it in the Batcave. Why the fuck are we talking about this right now? It is two in the morning!"

"Because I looked at your phone and her name is 'Babs 🌶️'!"

"That's a chili pepper! It means she handles the red-alert comms, you psychotic brat! It’s an emergency tag!"

"I don't care! It looks like a fucking sexting emoji!" You dropped to your knees on the mattress, crawling over to him and slamming your knees right into his thighs. You grabbed his jaw, fingers digging into his skin, forcing him to look at you. "Who’s the better kisser? Me or her? Don't lie to me. Did you guys used to make out on roofs? Did she use tongue? Does she do that little sigh thing I do when you touch her? Tell me!"

"Jesus Christ, Babe," Dick choked out, his chest heaving, looking genuinely stressed. "You are lightyears better. You're fucking incredible. Please, look at me, you're the only one I want. Can we please stop this?"

"No! Because I’m prettier than her, right? Obviously I’m prettier. Look at my fucking face." You shoved your face inches from his, your eyes wide. "But she’s so good with your dad! Ugh! It makes me want to vomit! She talks to Bruce, and he actually responds like a human being! I tried to talk to him last week and he treated me like I was gum on the bottom of his shoe! She has history with your fucked-up family, Dick! Did you guys fuck while you were living there? In his house?!"

"No! Never! I swear to God, never!" Dick’s hands came up, grabbing your wrists, his palms sweating. He looked completely panicked now. "Babe, please, you’re making shit up. I hate when Bruce does that to people, I literally moved to Blüdhaven to get away from him. I don't want her. I don't want any of them. I want you."

"Are you sure?" you whimpered, the anger turning desperate. You shifted, straddling his lap entirely, your bare thighs rubbing hard against his sweatpants, feeling how stiff he already was despite the stress. "Because she has that red hair. You like the red hair, don't you? Did you pull it? Did you bend her over the fucking desk in the cave?"

Dick’s grip tightened on your hips, an irritated groan escaping his lips. He was miserable that you were this upset, but the feeling of you grinding against his crotch was pushing him over the edge. "I didn't bend her over anything. Stop saying that shit, it’s making me sick. I don't give a fuck about her. Right now, I care about the fact that you’ve been screaming at me for forty minutes, your nipples are hard against my chest, and you’re tearing me apart."

"I'm upset babe, you’re friends with your fucking ex!" you snapped, tears of pure rage blurring your vision. "You talk to her every day! I feel like a fucking idiot!"

"Babe, you’re losing your fucking mind, please don't cry," Dick mumbled, his voice breaking as he pulled you down, burying his face in your neck, holding you so tight it bruised. He was completely desperate to fix it, terrified you were actually going to leave him. He nipped hard at the skin right over your collarbone. "You want to know what we did? Nothing like this. She never made me feel like this. She never made me want to rip my own hair out just to get her to shut up and take my dick."

"You're just saying that," you panted, your legs already wrapping around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, feeling him throbbing against your cunt through his pants. "You're just trying to manipulate me because you know your body is perfect."

"I'm not manipulating you, I’m fucking begging you," he hissed, flipping you under him so fast your head hit the pillow. He pinned your hands above your head, his face paler than usual "Look at me. Look at my eyes. I will block her number right now if you want me to. I'll do whatever the fuck you want. Just tell me you're mine."

"Prove it then," you choked out, pulling at his sweatpants "Put it in me right now and make me forget her fucking name."

"Shut up," he muttered, slamming his mouth down on yours, cutting off any other unhinged theories you had left as his hand ripped his sweats down.

JASON TODD

"Who the fuck is 'Artie'?" you shrieked. "Who the fuck is she, Jason? Because I just saw a message pop up on your secure line that said 'Rain check, Big Guy,' and I know for a goddamn fact it isn't one of your freak-show brothers!"

Jason froze, his knuckles turning white around the rifle barrel. He set it down with a heavy clatter and finally looked up, his green eyes flashing. "Are you fucking kidding me right now? You’re going through my secure comms? Are you out of your goddamn mind?"

"Answer the fucking question!" You stepped right into his chest, shoving him hard enough to make his boots slide an inch "Is that Artemis? The giant Amazon? The one you were playing house with in the desert? Are you still fucking her? Why’d she call you ‘big guy’!? Your dick’s not even that big!”

"We haven’t done shit since before I even knew you existed!" Jason argued, standing up to his full height, towering over you as his chest heaved. "She’s a teammate! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Oh, a teammate? So you didn't bend her over that ancient shit in Egypt?" you screamed right back, getting entirely in his face, your chest heaving against his. "Did you taste her? Did she taste better than me? Did you love it when she pinned you down, you fucking manwhore? Tell me right now! Did you put your mouth on her?!"

"We didn't fuck in the desert! We were trying not to get killed, you crazy bitch!" Jason snapped, his eyes were glowing green. He grabbed your wrists with an iron-tight grip, his fingers digging into your skin as he shook you. "You are making up disgusting, toxic shit in your head because you're insecure! Stop fucking yelling at me about shit from six years ago!"

"Is it because I'm not as strong as her?!" you went off, completely pivoting into a breathless rant, the words tearing out of you like a flood. "Is that what it is? You want some giant warrior bitch who can toss you around? Or is it the red hair? Are you obsessed with redheads? Is that why you're always so fucking chummy with her and Roy?! Oh my god, do you want to fuck Roy too?! Are you into guys?! Because I'm not a fucking guy, Jason! I can't be a guy for you! What the fuck do you want from them, do you want a threesome or some shit?! Is that what you guys do when you're 'saving the world'?!"

"Are you fucking insane?!"  his face twisting in pure, unadulterated disgust and fury. He yanked your wrists down so hard your balance broke. 

"Then why are they always texting you?! Why are you always looking at your phone like you miss them?!" you screamed back, your face flushed, tears of absolute blind rage spilling over your eyelashes. "If you're still playing orgy with your little Outlaw club, then I guess it's fair game! I’m gonna fuck my ex!”

"Say that shit again," he snapped. "Say you’re going to go touch another man. Say you’re going to let someone else lay a hand on you. See what fucking happens to both of you. I will hunt him down and paint the fucking walls with him."

"Why do you care?!" you choked out, your heart hammering against your ribs "Go call your Amazon! Go tell Roy how crazy I am while you guys jerk each other off!"

"She was before you! And Roy is my fucking brother!" Jason groaned, you were getting so deep under his skin. "Do you not understand how time works, you idiot?! I haven’t touched her, I don't want to touch her, and I sure as hell don't want a goddamn man I consider my brother! But you want to go fuck your ex?”

"Yeah! Because you're driving me fucking insane!" you screamed back, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper into the apex of your thighs. You could feel how insanely hard he was through his sweatpants "You're a liar! You're a dirty, lying fuckboy!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Jason snarled, his hand flying from your throat to catch your jaw, his thumb digging brutally into your cheek to force your mouth open. "I am not a liar. I am fucking obsessed with you. I haven't looked at another woman since the day I went out with you, and you're being a loon”

"Prove it then," you panted, your teeth baring as you bit down lightly on his thumb "If they're nothing, text them right now telling them we broke up and if either of them offer you a pity fuck, just know you’re going to die a second time, Todd”

A/n: was this a ploy to get banged hard? yes, yes it was

[aromanticduck]

Free service with ads: Well, if I'm not paying for it they have to foot the bill somehow.

Paid service with no ads: Well, if they're not funding it with ad revenue, they need to charge us something.

Paid service with ads: Well that's bullshit.

"We used to be a paid service without ads, but now we're putting ads in it! If you want the ad-free version you have to pay more for preeeeemium": Fuck you fuck you fuck you

[juststarsandthemoon]

Free service with no ads: Okay so these guys are stealing my data

[dogpuppy]

[mandywondering]

I mean, in some very interesting Technically Correct ways, they didn't actually die? Now, they're very much no longer alive. But the forces involved are such that they didn't get any of the usual cellular processes of death, they simply went from biology to physics in less time than it takes a signal to travel down your optic nerve.

[dietspam16]

if you go from biology to physics without dying first you don’t go to heaven the uber driver went over this already

[jasontoddscrowbars]

Tim going to go dig on the kitchen for some food. Passed Jason and pauses in horror. Back tracks and points.

Tim: what’s that?

Jason, looking around confused: what’s what?

Tim, pointing to Jason’s food: that!

Jason:?

Jason: Mac and cheese?

Tim: that’s not Mac and cheese! That’s an atrocity and insult to cheese and noodle existence.

Jason: it’s Kraft.

Tim: it’s fucking ketchup in your Mac and cheese!

Jason, getting confrontational: it’s not weird! It taste good!

Tim: it’s an abomination and smells gross!

Jason: well you put ranch in your ketchup!

Tim: they are two condiments being put together. So many people do it that the makers literally put it in a bottle. Of Kraft does that I will jump off the Wayne tower.

Jason, considering this:

Jason: well it’s just tomato in pasta-

Tim: ahhh!

Jason: why are you even in my house! Get out!

Later

Tim walks into Olive Garden. His aim is to steal as many breadsticks as he can before being noticed. As he passes some tables though he notices something. He backtracks pointing to a customers dish.

Tim: what’s that?

The customer: oh my god it’s Tim Drake.

Worker hearing his name: I know that bitch ain’t back!

Tim: what’s that?!

Customer: uh… Mac and tomato cheese pasta?

Tim:

The worker running to Tim: we’ve got restraining orders against you! Get out!

Tim: it’s not tomato sauce! It’s ketchup! You can fucking smell it! Jason that fucker-

Before Tim can finish he sees the worker. He hurries and dives down grabbing the breadstick basket off of their table bailing. If he’s going to jail again he’s doing it on a full carbed stomach.

Tim, as he’s being tackled: it’s ketchup! It’s gross!

The customer, whispering: I think it’s actually pretty good.

[lyn1tx]

Oh….