Trinity

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆inbox is always open ask away⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

[llovelygood]

⟢ TRINITY — 19! Aquarius. She/Her. Fashion design student & singer. Dick Grayson’s wife (mind you). Theater kid to the core. Fanfic writer to battle against madness.

MASTERLIST ˳·˖✶ REQUESTS OPEN ˳·˖✶ GUIDELINES ˳·˖✶ TAGLIST

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main blog @llovelygoodrkive

© llovelygood 2026 all my work belongs to me. Don't copy, repost or translate my work and do not fed it to the ai.

Fuck J.K.Rowling and fuck AI

[dearlizzies]

thank u for the tag @v-inthecortez & @pinkdoeweirdo 🤍!

last song: Mr. Lovermannn

currently watching: Attack on Titan !! this shi pretty good

current obsession: suguru geto

currently reading: 1984 by george orwell

currently working on: requests and requests

last internet search: ‘are male nipples sensitive’ lmao i’m not elaborating on that

no pressure 🏷️ : @rottenbites @targlocket @illumoria @pottergff @amourflores @deaddoveangel @ghostlybfgf @hunnyisland

[illumoria]

thank you for the tag, honeybunch :3!

last song:: fools rush in (where angels fear to tread) by lesley gore

currently (re)watching:: death note 🍪

current obsession:: calico critters, yoga, and lacy clothing >_o

currently reading:: nothing! i just finished a book and i have no idea what i’m reading next…

currently working on:: light yagami req !

last internet search:: 27 dresses soundtrack

npt 🏷️!!:: @daystarpoet @kittens4kitty @fushihearts @rengoatku @hufflezki @fawnafied @amourflores @ariannagram @yuuuu-o @fear-is-truth @bohnerrific69 @makeufeelshy !!

[rengoated]

Thank you for the tag cutie!!

Last song — A.D.H.D by Kendrick Lamar

Currently watching — Bananafish (it’s super duper sad and I’m only halfway through omg)

Current obsession — writing (duh), jeans, and hair dye!!

Currently reading — nothing… except drivers ed ig

Currently working on — gojo fluff and a secret long oneshot of Sukuna 🤫🤫

Last internet search — an anime streaming service

npt 🏷️ @hangenism @fushihearts @valberryboos @kamislop @tokkushin @neossence @6x-x9 @revolvingsaturn

[kamislop]

eeek thanks for the tag!! doing it now so I don't forget T_T

last song - dirty diana (cover by shaman's harvest)

currently watching - soul eater omg it's so good

current obsession - daisuke jigen from lupin III, literally my childhood anime i saw an edit of him on my fyp earlier and woo😵‍💫😵‍💫

currently reading - tumblr fics made by my close and personal friends moots

currently working on - sero smut and super secret deku fic

last internet search - biennale di venezia

npt - @jeanmarcosno1 @lonelyfooryouonly @updownandbatty @moviecritc @ie4ri

[moviecritc]

tina 🩷🩷 thank you for tagging me!!

last song: sympathy is a knife by charli xcx

currently watching: naruto shippuden (finally)

current obsession: jojo's, i think. especially johnny and gyro

currently reading: steel ball run manga

currently working on: something with shoko!

tagsss: @sakunai @bewitched-pearl @teklarn @edawgz @fancy-possum

[fancy-possum]

OMG I GOT TAGGED 🙏 🤲 ty babe for tagging me !

Last song : senior skip day by Mac Miller

Currently watching : the office for the third time

Current obsession : Mac Miller and posting pictures of myself 😊

Currently reading : re-reading lessons in chemistry for the second time..

Currently working on : finishing off my 1k follower event!

tags! : @llovelygood @bat1nsignia @blueberrycandymuffin @vianawaits and @nagumolvr <3

[llovelygood]

SHUT UP THE TAG GAMES WERE MY BIGGEST FOMO BUT ITS FINALLY HAPPENING!! Thank you for tagging me Bea ily 🫶🏻

Last song: Sexy by Bad Gyal

Currently watching: Euphoria ( I'm successfully avoiding the spoilers of the ending)

Current obsession: dua lipa's wedding

Currently reading: Young Mungo by Douglas Stuart

currently working on: the third Chapter of ISBB, and a Tim Drake request...

taggss: @luviery & @bluercherry

[llovelygood]

could you perchance write something reader x jason todd but it's just reader getting cuteness aggression every time they see him and just pinching his cheek or squeezing him while he's just completely confused like one of those big dogs that gets picked up for the first time

Hello, lovelie

Thank you so much for requesting this. It's been so long since I last wrote for Jason and I missed him so much, so here you have it :3

[llovelygood]

Cuteness aggression || Jason Todd x reader

— After months dating, you now can't hold back whenever you see how adorable Jason can be sometimes, leaving Jason a little confused.

!!: request! fluff. gn!reader. no use of y/n. established relationship. drabble (1k words). English is not my first language. A/N: thank you @currentblasphemy for requesting this! I hope you like it 🫶🏻

[dc masterlist]

Jason knew he was an attractive guy. He was big and strong and totally your type.

He knew you went crazy every time he came out from the shower. You would be staring shamelessly at his bare chest and he would do anything to stay shirtless as much time as possible for you to enjoy the view.

He also knew you tended to touch his arms every time he wore a short-sleeve shirt, that’s why he did things to flex his biceps without being too obvious.

What he didn't know was that—aside from finding him hot and sexy—you found him cute.

You had mentioned it yesterday while making dinner. You had just put the garlic bread inside of the oven, and Jason was on the stove stirring the pasta, when you suddenly let out a high pitched noise and hugged him from the back with too much force. 

“You’re such a cutie!” You had said, while pressing your cheek to his huge back and tightening your embrace on his waist. No more than two seconds later, you had slipped in between the kitchen counter and Jason's body just to squish his cheeks and give him a rough kiss on the lips. 

He didn’t know what had gotten into you that night, but from your point of view, Jason looked too fucking adorable. He had been stirring the pan with so much care, his tongue was sticking out of his mouth, and his hair wasn’t fully dry from the shower yet, which made him look like a huge teddy bear, so soft and huggable.

“I love you so much, babe,” you had said after the kiss while hugging his neck with more force than normal, but not enough to choke him. Jason had laughed, because—what else was he supposed to do? You had never acted like this before.

And today, while he was alone at home and you were at work, he couldn’t help but replay in his mind your behaviour from last night. 

The force you had hugged him with, or the way you had bit your lip—like you were trying too hard to contain your feelings. It was a side of you he had only seen the day you met Haley for the first time, when Dick came for a surprise visit to his beloved brother. 

Trying to stop thinking about last night, he moved towards the bookshelf and picked one of the books he was currently reading, to keep him busy while he waited for you.

When you arrived home you found Jason seated on one of the living room’s beanbags, the ones you had insisted on buying because they were comfy to read in. He was holding the book with one hand while the other was prepared to turn the page. He had a tiny smile of anticipation while his eyes moved quickly across the text. 

He was really enjoying the book and he looked so cute like that.

So, instead of announcing your arrival, you dropped your bag on the floor and ran towards your boyfriend. You threw yourself on top of him before giving him time to save the page, holding his face with both your hands and started kissing him all over.

“Hi, baby,” he said, finally snapping out of his trance while you kept kissing him.

“You’re so cute, I could eat you.” You pulled away to look at his shocked face for just a second before going back to kiss him.

“Excuse me?” His hands moved slowly—the total opposite from your quick and never-ending kisses—placing them on your waist after leaving the book on the floor. 

Suddenly, you stopped. You had a bright smile on your face, while you looked at your boyfriend with too much joy.

“Hi,” you said.

Jason started laughing, like he did yesterday night, moving one hand to rub his face.

“What has gotten into you?” He asked.

“Nothing, you’re just so adorable and I just want to hug you and kiss you so hard.” You bit his cheek this time.

“Ouch! Should I be concerned?” He rubbed his cheek once you pulled away. 

“Not at all,” you said, giving him another kiss, but this time softer and on his lips, quite surprising behaviour after your previous intense affection. 

“Really? Because the last time you acted like this was with Haley.” 

Jason remembered that time all too well. You walked into the apartment and were instantly greeted by the cutest dog ever, because Dick had decided that Haley needed to be introduced to the family and Jason was the best start. You had started talking with a very high pitched voice while scratching, caressing and hugging the dog. You looked like you were going to explode anytime soon, and it was all from the love that had taken over your body. 

“That’s because both of you are the cutest.” You stood up from the beanbag and went to pick up your bag to take it to your room.

Jason stood up too, grabbed his book, bookmarked it properly, and followed you.

“No, explain yourself. Do you think I look like a dog?” Jason asked while entering your shared bedroom.

“That’s not what I said,” you defended yourself while putting the stuff from your bag back into its place.

“You placed both of us into the same category!”

“Because both of you are cute in different ways. Haley is a dog, and dogs are cute. You’re handsome and strong, but so freaking adorable when you don’t realize,” you explained.

“I’m not cute! Have you seen this?” He pointed to himself. He was wearing a regular black shirt that hugged his torso deliciously, and those damn grey sweatpants. To add a point to his argument Jason flexed his arm, showing you his tasty bicep.

You couldn’t hold back the smirk, licking your lips at the sight of your boyfriend’s muscles. “Fine, yes, you are hot, but you can also be adorable.”

“You’re destroying my ego here, baby,” he said, pulling you towards him by your waist.

You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, “I love you, my hot sexy boyfriend.”

He showed a boyish grin “That’s better.”

“And adorable,” you added.

Because yes, Jason was hot, but he was also so adorable it made you feel like you wanted to explode with love—and what better way to show it than with your very aggressive way of showing affection?

© llovelygood

Jason Todd taglist: @farahdrawzz @princesstrunkz @/currentblasphemy @yukibana-fs @astraeasworld @profoundgreenturtle @andraax2 @e1ectraaheart

[fancy-possum]

5 O’CLOCK SHADOW ◞ Bruce Wayne

summary : when you’re husband gets put on time out after a nasty mission, you suddenly find yourself seeing him in ways you haven’t seen before. CW : suggestive, reader is a freak, breast play ᵎᵎ

masterlist ノ DC masterlist ੭﹕﹒

Bruce Wayne had been benched for three weeks.

A nasty hit to the ribs during a patrol gone wrong had Alfred putting his foot down: no suit, no rooftop jumping, no “I’m fine” excuses. The great Batman was stuck at home, healing, and slowly going insane from boredom.

You, on the other hand, were enjoying every second of it.

The first few days he was sulking in sweatpants and an old college hoodie, grumbling about “rusting” and “losing edge.” By week two, the stubble on his jaw had grown into a proper beard, and you were shamelessly obsessed with running your fingers through it.

But the real surprise came when the body hair started growing back.

Bruce had always been meticulous about shaving everything that the suit touched. Chest, arms, legs — smooth as marble. You’d never seen him any other way. So when he came out of the shower one morning in nothing but low-slung sweatpants, towel around his neck, you nearly dropped your coffee.

There it was.

A soft, dark trail of hair across his chest, thickening between his pecs and fading down toward his abs. Not overwhelming, just… natural. Real.

You stared. Openly.

Bruce noticed. Of course he did.

He raised an eyebrow, drying his hair with the towel. “What?”

You set the coffee down carefully. “You… have hair.”

He glanced down at himself, almost self-conscious for the first time in years. “It grows back when I stop shaving. The suit chafes otherwise.” He rubbed a hand over his chest, looking vaguely embarrassed. “It’s been a while since I let it. I can shave it if—”

“No,” you said quickly. Too quickly. “Don’t. It’s… nice.”

Bruce paused, then a slow, amused smirk tugged at his lips. “Nice?”

You crossed the kitchen, unable to stop yourself. Your hands slid up his chest, fingers threading through the soft hair there. It was thicker than you expected, warm from the shower, and felt ridiculously good under your palms.

“Really nice,” you murmured, voice a little breathless. You leaned in and pressed a kiss right over his sternum, then another, then another, working your way across his chest like you were discovering new territory.

Bruce’s breath hitched. His hands settled on your waist, thumbs stroking your sides through your robe. “You’re… very enthusiastic about this.”

“I’ve never seen you like this,” you admitted, kissing lower, right over his heart. “It’s… hot. You look like a real person. My husband. Not the polished billionaire or the statue in a suit.”

He let out a low, surprised laugh, but it turned into a soft groan when your lips brushed one of his nipples. His fingers tightened on your waist.

“Careful,” he warned, voice rougher now. “You keep doing that and I’m going to forget I’m supposed to be resting.”

You looked up at him, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe I don’t want you to rest.”

Bruce’s eyes darkened. He cupped your face with one hand, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “You’re going to be the death of me, Mrs. Wayne.”

“Good death,” you whispered, rising onto your toes to kiss him properly.

The kiss started sweet but quickly turned heated. Bruce pulled you closer, one hand sliding into your hair, the other slipping under your robe to rest warm against your bare back. He kissed you like he’d been starving for it — deep, slow, full of all the love and want he usually kept so carefully controlled.

When you broke apart, both breathing harder, he rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he said softly. “Even when you’re ogling me like I’m a science experiment.”

You laughed, pressing another kiss to his chest, right over the soft hair there. “I love you too. Especially when you’re all… natural like this.”

He groaned, half-embarrassed, half-pleased. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But I’m your ridiculous,” you corrected, kissing lower, lips brushing over his abs. “And I’m keeping you exactly like this for as long as you’re benched.”

Bruce’s hands tightened on your waist. “You’re going to kill me before I’m cleared for duty.”

You looked up at him with a wicked little smile. “Worth it.”

He pulled you back up for another deep kiss, hands roaming your body with that perfect mix of reverence and hunger. The robe slipped off one shoulder. His fingers traced the curve of your waist, then higher, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts.

You shivered, pressing closer, feeling the warmth of his chest hair against your skin. It was softer than you expected, and the way it brushed your nipples when you moved made you gasp softly.

Bruce noticed. Of course he did.

He smiled against your lips. “You really like this, don’t you?”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, kissing him again to hide your blush.

He chuckled, low and warm, and lifted you effortlessly onto the kitchen counter. His mouth moved to your neck, then lower, kissing and nipping gently across your collarbone. One hand slipped inside your robe, palming your breast, thumb circling your nipple until you arched into him with a soft moan.

“Beautiful,” he whispered against your skin. “My beautiful wife.”

You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him close as he worshipped you with slow, deliberate kisses. The world outside the penthouse didn’t exist. There were no missions, no galas, no Batsuit waiting in the cave.

Just Bruce. Just you.

Just the two of you, tangled together in the morning light, rediscovering each other in the quiet weeks of his recovery.

When he finally pulled back, lips swollen and eyes dark with want, he rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he said again, voice rough but sincere. “More than the suit. More than the money. More than anything.”

You smiled, cupping his face. “I love you too. Hairy chest and all.”

He laughed — bright, genuine, the kind of laugh that made your heart feel too big for your chest.

“Brat,” he murmured fondly, kissing you once more.

The coffee went cold on the counter. The city kept moving far below.

But in the warm glow of your kitchen, Bruce Wayne held you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

And for once, the detective didn’t need to solve anything, and he already had everything he needed.

a/n : this is unbearably self indulgent because I like body hair. Just wait till I start writing about biceps 😊

[achinglovers]

Misunderstanding

Tim Drake x Fem!reader

⋆𐙚 ̊. Tim thinks you’re cheating on him, but you’re actually planning his birthday.

cw: mentions of cheating, angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, tim is a sensitive boy and lowkey a crybaby, lmk if i missed something!

a/n: i‘m not sure if i like this, word count is about 2.3k words, i wrote this on wattpad and copied it into tumblr and i wanted to know where most of you write? i used to write directly on tumblr (mobile app/browser) but i wanted a word count. this is not proofread and will probably be edited in the future. let me know what you think and please don’t be afraid to like, reblog and comment! 💌

Tim knew that you would never actually cheat on him. He knew that. You were his best friend long before you became his girlfriend, the two of you had, and have always been honest with each other. So he doesn't understand why your actions have told him otherwise.

The first time Tim took notice to your unusual behavior was on a calm friday night. He skipped out on patrol due to him still recovering from his last mission. You were cuddled up on his bed, him laying on your chest while you both watched a movie together. At first it was the same as always, both of you making stupid comments and discussing the characters while you played with a strand of his hair. But then you went on your phone, which didn't usually happen while you two were watching something, but he'd decided to ignore it. Until your hand reached a second time, then a third, until he lost count and he noticed you being glued to your phone.

As he lifted his head, repositioning his body to lay beside yours, you didn't even glance up at him as he stared at you. Only when you felt his gaze trying to catch a peek at your phone screen, you quickly turned to him while burying your phone into your chest, quickly pressing the power button. “What are you doing?” you question, trying to laugh off the situation.

Tim continues to hold your gaze while his eyes flicker from the phone in your hand back to your face. "What are you doing?"

You laugh again. “Texting.”

“Texting who?” he questioned, his gaze unwavering.

“Just Steph.” you shrugged, desperately hoping he would let this go. But you knew Tim, and you knew he could tell you were hiding something.

“Oh. What were you texting about?” You swallow at his question, coming up with a quick answer. “Just some memes.” you squeezed out the lie. You didn't want him to know that you were actually discussing the plan for his upcoming birthday in a group chat without him.

Tim is silent for a moment as he studies your face. With a sigh, he decides to let it go. “Okay.”

You breathe out a quiet sigh of relief as he lays back down on yours chest, your phone now abandoned on the bedside table.

Tim continues watching the movie, though his brain can't shut off this time. You weren't lying to him, right? You were still your own person, even if he was your boyfriend, your best friend, you still had the right to not tell him everything. Tim could handle you not telling him everything, right?

Wrong. Later that night, you were laying in his arms, passed out while his brain couldn't stop overthinking every single one of your actions throughout the last weeks.

The second time he thinks something is really wrong he catches you sneaking out of bed in the middle of the night.

Tim was staying over at your apartment, enjoying your bed with countless fluffy pillows and your warm body snuggled up next to his. He was awoken by the sound of the sheets rustling, thinking nothing of it, just you tossing and turning until you found the right position. But then he squeezed one eye open, watching as you tried to quietly pull the covers off yourself, grabbing your phone off your nightstand before walking out of your bedroom and into the hallway, softly closing the door behind you.

It was quiet, and for a moment Tim thought you might be just going to the bathroom. That was until he heard your soft voice through the door. “Hey, babe.”

And right at this moment, Tim felt his heart stop. There was no way you could actually be cheating on him. You always told him he was your person, wasn't that true anymore?

Deciding he needed more proof for a final conclusion, he squeezed his eyes shut as he quietly got up, stepping closer your bedroom door. Now leaning his ear against it, he could make out your voice more clearly coming from down the hallway. “No, of course I didn't tell him.”He could hear you laugh softly. “He's not going to find out!”

Tim's ear began ringing as his throat suddenly felt dry, an overwhelming mix of emotions hitting him all at once. His eyes burned suddenly, and he squeezed them shut once more, trying to drown out the thoughts scrambling inside his head. This was it. You were really cheating on him. Wasn't he good enough? You always told him he was. Did you lie to him every time you told him you loved him? Was it his looks? Did he work too much? Was it Red Robin? All those thoughts circulated in his head while he tried to reason with himself. His thoughts are cut short when he catches the last of your conversation. “Okay, I gotta go before Tim wakes up. Love you.”

Hearing your footsteps become louder as they near the bedroom, he quickly wipes at his face before crawling back into bed, turning so his back is facing you when you walk back in.

You let out a tired yawn as you quietly push the door open, tracing your steps back until you're laying in bed again, facing Tim's back. You watch him for a second, a smile crossing your face as you think about the joy on his face when he'll open the gift you got him for his birthday. That was the reason you had been so sneaky around Tim for the past weeks, planning a small party at the manor, trying to get every one of his siblings to agree to come at the same time.

But your smile quickly washed away from your face as you noticed Tim's uneven breathing and the quiet shaking of his shoulders. Your hand reached out, finding its place between the blades of his shoulders. “Tim?” you call out softly, your voice filled with worry.

He debated pretending to be asleep, but he quickly realized you would just see through him and he didn't want you to know that he knew. So he turned around, now facing you, and when you spotted his red eyes and small frown, he could see the concern in your eyes. “What's wrong, baby?” you question, your voice soft as you carefully brush his hair away from his face. He could melt into your touch right now, but then he remembered wha he just heard, and suddenly this felt like the last time you'd touch him so tenderly.

“Did you have a nightmare?” is the next question that left your mouth. Tim decided to go along with it, feeling his throat closing up with the threat of unshed tears, he just nodded.

“Oh, Timmy.” You sighed out empathetic, wrapping your arms around him as you pulled him into you, pressing a kiss against his forehead in an act of silent comfort. “You're safe here.” you mumbled against his skin. Tim squinted his eyes shut, not believing that you could cheat on him in one moment and love him like this in the next.

Now, as he walks back through the front door and into the manor, his thoughts are still running wildly around his brain. They have been the past week , not stopping since that you comforted him because of his “nightmare”. He hadn’t talked much to you after that night, always coming up with reasons to cut conversations short, responding with short answers to your texts, ignoring calls and giving a lazy excuse afterwards. And today was his birthday, to which you only sent him a quick text, leaving no signs that you would want to see him today. From Tim’s perspective, you didn’t seem too concerned. What he didn’t know was that you spent every spare second you had to plan his birthday so it would be perfect, leading to you being pretty busy.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Tim walks into the sitting room in search of Alfred. He had sent him on a mission to go and get a special ingredient Alfred was missing for something he was baking, whatever it was.

He frowned as his gaze scans the room, noticing the curtains drawn and the furniture arranged. Before he could notice the decorations hanging of the wall, the curtains were pulled open and a chorus of “Happy Birthday”s sounded across the room. Now standing in front of him were all of his siblings, Bruce, Alfred, and you. His gaze focused on you, your grin wide as you stepped closer to him, his favorite cake in held securely in front of you, decorated with his favorite lego figures and lit candles. “Happy birthday, baby. Make a wish!” you smile at him, giving him an encouraging nod.

Tim can only stare, and before you know it, he’s already turning around and quickly making an exit. He’s gone before you can call out and a frown comes across your face. Behind you, you hear Jason whisper a quiet “What the fuck?” and Cass asking quietly “What’s wrong with him?”

You still stand there, baffled at Tim’s reaction, when you feel someone come up behind you. Your turn your head to come face to face with Steph, and she gives you a comforting look as she takes the cake out of your hands and quietly tells you to go after him.

You do immediately. Your pace is fast as you trace his steps to where you know he must be. Seeing that he left the door to the terrace open, you quickly slip outside, spotting Tim leaning against the railing, his body hunched as his face is clenched in agony. Your worry increases instantly and you call out his name, watching as he startled and looks up at you with hurt in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, stepping closer to him. “Is it the party? Is it too much?” You want to reach out, hold his hands in yours and give him all the comfort you can. You both stare at one another before Tim breaks the silence.

“Why are you doing this?” he chokes out through his tears, and your heart cracks at seeing him so hurt. “What do you mean?” you shake your head in confusion.

“Why won’t you just break up with me if you don’t want to be with me anymore?” he snaps, his face morphing into regret in an instant at the way he talked to you. He hated being mean to you, even if you were the one that was hurting him right now.

“What are you talking about?” you shake your head in confusion. “I- I don’t want to break up with you! I want you, Tim!”

“Then why are you cheating on me?” he finally lets out, and your face drops at hearing his words.

Your brain stops working for a second as you try to process his words. You, cheating, on him? “Tim, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please.”

Tim scoffs, shaking his head as he wipes at his eyes. “You don’t have to lie anymore. I heard you that night, last week.”

Your eyes widen, questioning every interaction you’ve had over the last week, trying to remember any conversations or phone calls. Phone calls… that’s when it hits you. The night you stepped out to call Steph as she found the perfect gift you had wanted for Tim on patrol that night. The night you came back to bed to find him crying from a “nightmare”.

Your gaze softens as you watch Tim completely unravel before you, believing the fact that you would cheat on him.

“Oh, Tim.” your voice wavers. You take a step forward, this time not hesitating to grab his hands and pull him into you. You wrap your arms around him, feeling his do the same. You could cry at the fact that he was still hugging you, even if he was supposed to be mad. You pull back, placing your hands on either side of his face, tilting it to meet your gaze. “I would never cheat on you. Never. I love you so so much, Tim. You’re my everything.” you explain desperately. “That night, I was talking to Steph about one of your presents for today. And the basically the last two weeks I’ve been busy planning every minor detail because I wanted today to be perfect for you. But I promise you, Timothy, that I will not and have not ever cheated on you. You can look through my phone or search my drawers or whatever-”

You’re cut off by Tim pressing his lips to yours. You let out a sound of surprise before leaning into the kiss, pressing your lips to his with the same eagerness.

He’s the one to pull back, letting his hands rest on your waist. “I believe you.”

Eyes widening, a relived expression washed over your face. “I love you, Tim. And I‘m sorry I made you feel that way.”

He shakes his head. “No, I‘m sorry. For believing that you would cheat on me. I was just… I was so scared of losing you.”

Your face softens more, if even possible, as your thumb swipes under his eye, wiping away the last of his tears. “You’re not going to lose me, baby. Not if I can help it.” you smile at him.

He’s pulls you closer again, burying his face in your neck as the two of you stay like that for awhile.

Tim knew that after all, you were his best friend, his soulmate, and he was wrong to doubt the bond between the two of you.

[llovelygood]

Never used to death || Bruce wayne x reader (+ platonic!batfam)

— Bruce Wayne had lost a lot of people in his life, but nothing compares to you, in any way. or your ex-husband and children don't know how to react to your death.

!!: HEAVY ANGST no comfort. major character death. gn!reader. batparent!reader. no use of y/n. English is not my first language. 906 words.

[dc masterlist]

You weren’t going to come back.

But Bruce couldn’t accept that reality.

He had lost too much during his life. He had lost his parents right before his eyes. He had lost Jason by The Joker. He had lost Alfred. And now, he had lost you too.

This was not like previous times, back when you both decided that getting a divorce was better than having to deal with each other’s grief after losing your second son.

Back when you came back for the first time, because you didn’t want to let down Tim, and still left some years after because things between Bruce and you weren’t the same anymore and your relationship wasn’t working.

You came back for a second time. This time was the final one. You were going to stay. Because you loved your children, and because Bruce had changed for good and he was still the man you loved with every fiber of your heart, and he loved you with the same intensity. You couldn’t give up on him.

But now it was all gone and you weren’t going to come back. 

This was not like the last two times, because during those breaks he saw you. He heard the news about you. He saw your face in the cover of magazines almost daily; and it broke him every time, seeing you looking like a literal angel, but without ‘Wayne’ on your name. 

Because you were once his, and now you weren’t even yours. 

Dick had been the one who found him first. In the middle of Robinson Park. Holding your broken and cold body against his chest, warm and alive. Your blood engulfing his arms, impregnating his suit like a memory, a statement. You will always be with him, the permanent stain that would never go away, the ghost that would haunt him until the end of his days, like Bruce Wayne didn’t have enough ghosts. 

You hadn’t left him by choice that night; you had left by chance. You had died—brutally tortured and murdered by the Joker—and reporters had been forced to televise it.

Bruce’s mind kept repeating—like a broken mantra—how this was his fault. Not Dick’s, because he never got to arrive on time. Not Jason’s, who unfollowed every rule just to get to you, but Poison Ivy got him first. Not Tim’s, nor Damian’s. Or Cass, or Steph, or Duke. Not even Barbara, who was crying of frustration, while trying, without success, to end your death’s livestream. 

It was all Bruce’s fault. 

He hated himself. He could save a million people, but never the ones he loved. Never his parents. Never his son. Never the man who had stayed with him since the very beginning of his life. Never the love of his life.

Dick didn’t hug Bruce that night. He froze on his spot the moment his feet touched the ground. The sight in front of him felt unreal, and it shattered every nerve of his body. Overwhelmed by anger and sadness he just stood there, with a blank expression.

Tim commanded the others to return to the cave, while he watched the interaction from a distance. 

Everything had stopped that night. Your heartbeat. Bruce’s life. Gotham streets were silent for once—traumaticed by the event. 

It wasn’t until Jason arrived that the clock started ticking again. 

“I will kill that bastard.” He said. And for once, Bruce didn’t scold him, he chose silence. He chose to stay those very last moments he had with your body in silence.

Not because he needed time, but because your two sons needed you and didn’t know how to show except through their mere presence. 

Dick didn’t move an inch. He didn’t talk, or breathe properly. He was just taking in the sight. This was definitely not the first time he’d lost a parent, but it was the most crude one. 

On the other hand, Jason. Oh, your sweet Jason. The one who swore he didn't cry, at least not in front of people, let the first tear fall from his eyes. He cried in silence, the loudest silence anyone had ever witnessed. 

And from above, Tim made his appearance, falling right next to Bruce, next to you. 

Your three boys, all there for you, for your death. And Bruce—the man who would have moved heaven and earth just for you, to see you happy, to try again, to have you back—was holding your lifeless body like delicate flowers—because he knew you could shatter this time if he held you tighter. 

The four men mourning your loss. 

And in the batcave Barbara cried, Cass cried while Steph, trying to hold her tears, hugged her. Duke waited, he waited for Bruce to come back with you, just so he could thank you and say goodbye to you one last time. 

And Damian. He had left the batcave. In between bouts of weeping, he had made his way up to the manor, to his father’s room—your room. He got under the covers and just waited. He waited for you to come back.

Damian Wayne Al Ghul. The son of an assassin, the boy who had been trained to kill, the one who understood death better than anyone. He stayed under the covers, waiting patiently for you to arrive home—radiant and alive—and kiss him goodnight. Your strange habit he swore he hated was now his deepest desire. 

So he waited. But you never came.

© llovelygood

A/N: everybody say thank you to my toxic ex for giving me all this sadness. Hope you guys liked this. As always reblogs and comments are appreciated 🫶🏻

Bruce Wayne taglist: @princesstrunkz @currentblasphemy @planetevermore @astraeasworld @andraax2

[llovelygood]

The comments you guys had left under this fic are the best I've ever received, and also thank you for all the love you guys are showing for this 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[mjfass]

New ask game:

Reblog if you want your followers to tell you what your trademark ™️ is. Like, what’s that thing that really identifies you.

[llovelygood]

can you guys please bully me into finishing this and posting it????

[luviery]

COLOR ME, YOU

summary: "Can you cosplay as Red Hood for me, pretty please?" How does a minor crush on the hot guy at the library lead you to ask Jason Todd to be your muse. A story about how hope when given, returns to you when you least expect it. pairing: Jason Todd x Artist! fem! reader tags and warning(s): soft romance, Fluff, suggestive, Angst that come as a part of writing jason todd, implied sunshine reader but she wasn't like this all the time, a lot about hope, full circle ahh moments, childhood incidents, minor stalking but not really , Red Hood has no pictures on the internet (for this fic's sake), there will be individual warnings for chapters if needed. author's note: this idea has been rotting in my head for months. (I have the chapters outlined and the first chap written) will be released in the last week of may! word count: moodboard jason todd mlist

chap 1: hottie in the library [3.5K]

chap 2: You know red hood ? [3.6K]

chap 3: Jason Todd and his muse [6.7K]

chap 4 : Pizza and tears [8.4K]

chap 5 : The hope that you give returns to you, one day

epilogue

SERIES TAGLIST : OPEN

To be part of the taglist, comment on this post.

To be part of the general taglist, comment on this post.

[llovelygood]

Mom and Mommy || mom!Barbara Gordon x mom!reader

— Barbara thinks your son hates her, but she couldn't be more wrong.

!!:pure fluff. fem!reader, wlw. no use of y/n. Reader got pregnant before dating Babs. Might be a bit ooc idk. English is not my first language. Not proofread. 864 words (short but sweet). A/N: I'm bringing my very first fic of my wife in pride month yayyy! Hope you guys like it.

[dc masterlist]

“I think he hates me.”

You had been reading a book peacefully, seated on your side of the bed, when your girlfriend entered your room pouting like a small child. 

“Who? Dani?” You asked, trying to suppress a laugh, as Barbara sits down next to you.

“Yes. Today he didn’t give me a kiss when I picked him up after school, and right now he asked me if you were going to wake him up tomorrow.” Barbara laid down on the bed. Her head on her pillow, looking up to the ceiling. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, seconds away from starting to bite them.

Your son, Daniel, only six years old, had been acting strange with Barabra for the past days. Your girlfriend claimed that he ignored her, or insisted on having you doing anything instead of her. He was always asking for you or acting like an independent child whenever you weren’t around.

This behaviour obviously hurt her. She understood Daniel’s attachment to you, after all you were the biological mother and he had already been born before you two started dating. But Barbara had been present during Daniel’s six years of life—he even called her mom—so why was he acting like this right now?

“I’m sure he’s just having a rebel stage.” You said while leaving your book on the nightstand and moving to lay down next to Barbara. “I wouldn’t think much of it.”

“The signs were there,” she started rambling again. “You’re ‘mommy’ and I'm just ‘mom’. He has never truly liked me.” 

Barabra turned her head to look at you, expecting to see you as worried as her, but instead she was greeted with you—her beautiful girlfriend—smirking and seconds away from laughing your ass off. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Barbara frowned.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?” You teased. 

You understood Barbar’s situation, as well as her concern, but she was overthinking the attitude of a six-year-old boy who clearly had been influenced by someone in school.

“Am I being dramatic?” Barbara sat on the bed. Her eyes were wide open, her mouth too and there wasn’t a single muscle in her body that didn’t scream “betrayal” all over. 

You couldn’t resist anymore, covering your mouth while you laughed. And once you had calmed down you cupped Barbara’s cheeks and gave her a sweet kiss. 

“Don’t worry sweetie, we’ll find out why Dani’s acting like this tomorrow morning.” Your voice was sweet and calm. Your hands were caressing her cheeks while Barbar’s right hand moved to touch your waist. “Maybe you can make him your famous pancakes, they might help.”

Barbara smiled at that. Dani loved her pancakes, and he loved them more when Barbara added chocolate chips to the dough. 

Yes, the pancakes could work.

Dani woke up by the smell of pancakes being made, but he decided to stay in bed for you to wake him up, showering him with kisses, like you usually did. 

But you didn't. Instead you entered his room and opened the curtains, letting the morning sun into his room, and then you sat in his bed.

“We gotta talk, little man.” You didn’t sound mad, or annoyed. But Dani didn’t like to hear you saying that. 

He uncovered his face slowly, appearing in between his bedsheets. “Good morning mommy.” 

“Good morning, sweetheart. Would you like to tell me what’s happening with you and Babs?” You asked calmly, while touching your son’s hair with the softens only mothers have in their hands. 

“Nothing.” 

“Nothing? Then why is she sad?” 

“Mom 's sad?” Dani sat down instantly. His lip started trembling and his eyes began watering. You knew that whatever he had been doing these past days wasn’t on purpose. He loved Barbara and he had never wanted to hurt her.

“I think you should give her a hug, what do you think?” You whispered, like it was a secret.

Daniel didn’t need to be told twice. He left his bed and bolted towards the kitchen.

Barbara had been finishing preparing the pancakes when she felt a small body hugging her legs.

“I’m sorry mom, I didn't know you were sad. Don’t be sad, please.” Dani’s head was buried in Barbara's thigh, while he gripped her pajama pants like his life depended on it. 

Bab’s moved the pan and turned off the stove before crouching down to be at Dani’s level. 

“Don’t worry honey,” Dani looked like a kicked puppy. His eyes were full of love, admiration and guilt, making Barbara feel bad for overthinking yesterday night. Looking at Dani like that made her heart melt. “I’m fine now that you hugged me. Hugs cure everything, right? just like mommy says.” 

Dani hugged her properly this time, his tiny arms wrapping around his mom’s neck. 

You enjoyed the interaction from a distance. Your son and your girlfriend. The two loves of your life. Your little family. You wouldn't trade this for nothing.

When Dani felt the hug had just been more than enough, he broke it to look at Barbara and asked: “Are the pancakes ready?”

Oh, how you loved your boy.

© llovelygood

[luviery]

SOULMATES

summary: Turns out you had met the Waynes well before meeting your husband. pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader tags and warning(s): Nothing as far as I'm aware, wrote this in an hour and I'm way too sleepy to proofread this. some info might not be accurate, Maybe OOC word count:1.1k dc mlist bruce wayne mlist

Bruce Wayne had a hollow pit in his heart that ached for the simple things in life, such as Jason picking up his call, dick staying the night at the manor, among others. But like everyone else, he wished for things that could never happen, like his parents alive and well beyond their early thirties, and meeting you, his wife.

But what if fate had other plans?

It's a random Tuesday as Bruce, and you stand in the middle of your grandfather's beloved attic. The wooden floors creak under your weight, dust particles moving in spirals as the early rays of sunshine flit through the glass panes of the dormer window. Your mother had asked for your help in cleaning your grandparents' place, and so you pulled in Bruce - offering him a break from his corporate duties, which he gladly agreed to.

"Wow, I did not realise my grandad hoarded so many things", you say, looking at the vast number of trinkets and boxes stacked along the walls on both sides of the attic. Each was well organised, with a label pasted on the top.

"Your grandad was a man of culture", Bruce chuckles, looking at the various band posters from the 40s and 50s. There were even autographs from some of them, neatly preserved.

Both of you got to work immediately, knowing it would be hours before everything was cleaned out. You had decided to split the work by concentrating on different ends of the triangular room.

Bruce had struck gold by ending up in the corner where your granddad had seemed to store much of the photo albums and cassettes, stacked on top of each other, labeled in detail about what the insides contained. It gave Bruce an insight to your family, a family from looking at the albums that had photos from back since your grandparents got married, having their daughter — your mother, to her getting married, and having you.

He had seen a lot of your photos since the early days of dating, but these were different. Your grandfather was an avid photographer, and Bruce could sense it through the varied angles and poses that he made everyone do.

"Having fun, huh?" you mumble, looking at Bruce as he suppresses a chuckle while looking at the pictures of you — a two-year-old, wearing a princess gown and a wand gripped tightly within your grubby fingers.

"You get stuck with the more fun part, while I have to dust some old documents", you grumble, looking at files and files of documents.

"Do you wanna exchange, sweetheart?"

"Nope," you say, emphasizing the 'p' as you shift to the next box, "Besides, I like hearing you laugh, even if it comes at the cost of my pictures"

An hour passes by.

You had finished four out of the twelve boxes. Heaving a sigh, you decide it's time for a well-deserved break. And what better to do than annoy your beautiful husband?

"Bruce, Brucie Wayne," you turn to look at him at the lack of any response "Bruce?"

Bruce doesn't answer, his broad back turned towards you. There is something different in the air from a few minutes ago, almost tinged with melancholic fragrance. You move towards, hoping to see what made him go so still, only to let out a gasp when you see it.

There you were, maybe five or six years old, wearing a large doctor's coat that reached well beyond your limbs, dragging onto the marble floor and a cute pink stethoscope around your neck. But that was not what made you gasp; it was the couple you were standing with in the photo.

Thomas and Martha Wayne.

Both of them were crouched next to you on either side. Thomas Wayne in his fitting black suit paired with a dark blue silk necktie embellished with motifs, while Martha Wayne wore a simple black silk dress paired with a blue plaid jacket.

There was a tiny piece of description below the photograph, a little shabby, like your grandpa wasn't sure what to write.

' Y/N & famous couple from Gotham (VHS #155)'

Bruce let out a laugh— loud but bittersweet. It made sense for your grandad to not know them, considering the only people he thought to be rich were the Queens.

You looked at Bruce, his eyes a little glazed as you cupped his face, fingers rubbing against the expanse of his cheek. Pressing a small kiss on his forehead, you whisper, "Shall we watch the VHS tape?"

He hums as you both try finding the exact tape among two hundred of them. Once retrieved, you dust the Toshiba VCR at the corner, pulling it slightly towards the center. You and Bruce try to get it to start since it probably hasn't been used in a while.

After a few minutes, the VCR lights up. Inserting the tape, you press play, and both of you stand back, Bruce's arm over your shoulder as you lay your head on his chest, arms wrapped around his waist.

The VCR displays a blue gradient before buzzing to a grainy film of you in a purple and pink frock , smiling widely at the camera. There's a lot of noise around you — people clapping , speeches being read as your grandad records the stage when Thomas Wayne was giving his speech. Bruce shifted a little, hand holding yours a little tighter, from hearing his father's voice after so many years.

The video then shifts to you, standing in front of the couple, wearing a pink stethoscope and a white coat a little too large for your frame. Martha Wayne smiles , a smile so radiant, before crouching down to her knees as she shakes your hand.

"Hi, there. What's your name?"

You say your name before letting out a giggle at her calling you beautiful.

"You want to be a doctor when you grow up?" She asks, hands pointing at the instrument hanging around your neck.

"Yes, ma'am. I want to be a heart doctor," you say, peering at the woman beside you. Thomas Wayne smiles before exchanging pleasantries with your grandfather.

"Oh, that's wonderful! You will be a great doctor one day, my dear."

And with that, the VHS comes to an end.

Bruce sniffles a little , his hands holding your waist, chin placed on top of your head. Silence fills the space along with the sounds of your nieces playing around the house. You don't know how long the both of you stayed like that, but it could have been forever, and you didn't mind at all.

Bruce is beyond happy. While it may not be visible to the naked eye, you could feel the joy emanating from the open crevices of grief and gaps of affection. He was happy that you —his wife, the love of his life — had met his parents. And they had gotten the chance to meet you.

Perhaps both of you really were soulmates.

A/N: Comments and Reblogs appreciated! Writing something for bruce after a long time.

[luviery]

SOULMATES

summary: Turns out you had met the Waynes well before meeting your husband. pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader tags and warning(s): Nothing as far as I'm aware, wrote this in an hour and I'm way too sleepy to proofread this. some info might not be accurate, Maybe OOC word count:1.1k dc mlist bruce wayne mlist

Bruce Wayne had a hollow pit in his heart that ached for the simple things in life, such as Jason picking up his call, dick staying the night at the manor, among others. But like everyone else, he wished for things that could never happen, like his parents alive and well beyond their early thirties, and meeting you, his wife.

But what if fate had other plans?

It's a random Tuesday as Bruce, and you stand in the middle of your grandfather's beloved attic. The wooden floors creak under your weight, dust particles moving in spirals as the early rays of sunshine flit through the glass panes of the dormer window. Your mother had asked for your help in cleaning your grandparents' place, and so you pulled in Bruce - offering him a break from his corporate duties, which he gladly agreed to.

"Wow, I did not realise my grandad hoarded so many things", you say, looking at the vast number of trinkets and boxes stacked along the walls on both sides of the attic. Each was well organised, with a label pasted on the top.

"Your grandad was a man of culture", Bruce chuckles, looking at the various band posters from the 40s and 50s. There were even autographs from some of them, neatly preserved.

Both of you got to work immediately, knowing it would be hours before everything was cleaned out. You had decided to split the work by concentrating on different ends of the triangular room.

Bruce had struck gold by ending up in the corner where your granddad had seemed to store much of the photo albums and cassettes, stacked on top of each other, labeled in detail about what the insides contained. It gave Bruce an insight to your family, a family from looking at the albums that had photos from back since your grandparents got married, having their daughter — your mother, to her getting married, and having you.

He had seen a lot of your photos since the early days of dating, but these were different. Your grandfather was an avid photographer, and Bruce could sense it through the varied angles and poses that he made everyone do.

"Having fun, huh?" you mumble, looking at Bruce as he suppresses a chuckle while looking at the pictures of you — a two-year-old, wearing a princess gown and a wand gripped tightly within your grubby fingers.

"You get stuck with the more fun part, while I have to dust some old documents", you grumble, looking at files and files of documents.

"Do you wanna exchange, sweetheart?"

"Nope," you say, emphasizing the 'p' as you shift to the next box, "Besides, I like hearing you laugh, even if it comes at the cost of my pictures"

An hour passes by.

You had finished four out of the twelve boxes. Heaving a sigh, you decide it's time for a well-deserved break. And what better to do than annoy your beautiful husband?

"Bruce, Brucie Wayne," you turn to look at him at the lack of any response "Bruce?"

Bruce doesn't answer, his broad back turned towards you. There is something different in the air from a few minutes ago, almost tinged with melancholic fragrance. You move towards, hoping to see what made him go so still, only to let out a gasp when you see it.

There you were, maybe five or six years old, wearing a large doctor's coat that reached well beyond your limbs, dragging onto the marble floor and a cute pink stethoscope around your neck. But that was not what made you gasp; it was the couple you were standing with in the photo.

Thomas and Martha Wayne.

Both of them were crouched next to you on either side. Thomas Wayne in his fitting black suit paired with a dark blue silk necktie embellished with motifs, while Martha Wayne wore a simple black silk dress paired with a blue plaid jacket.

There was a tiny piece of description below the photograph, a little shabby, like your grandpa wasn't sure what to write.

' Y/N & famous couple from Gotham (VHS #155)'

Bruce let out a laugh— loud but bittersweet. It made sense for your grandad to not know them, considering the only people he thought to be rich were the Queens.

You looked at Bruce, his eyes a little glazed as you cupped his face, fingers rubbing against the expanse of his cheek. Pressing a small kiss on his forehead, you whisper, "Shall we watch the VHS tape?"

He hums as you both try finding the exact tape among two hundred of them. Once retrieved, you dust the Toshiba VCR at the corner, pulling it slightly towards the center. You and Bruce try to get it to start since it probably hasn't been used in a while.

After a few minutes, the VCR lights up. Inserting the tape, you press play, and both of you stand back, Bruce's arm over your shoulder as you lay your head on his chest, arms wrapped around his waist.

The VCR displays a blue gradient before buzzing to a grainy film of you in a purple and pink frock , smiling widely at the camera. There's a lot of noise around you — people clapping , speeches being read as your grandad records the stage when Thomas Wayne was giving his speech. Bruce shifted a little, hand holding yours a little tighter, from hearing his father's voice after so many years.

The video then shifts to you, standing in front of the couple, wearing a pink stethoscope and a white coat a little too large for your frame. Martha Wayne smiles , a smile so radiant, before crouching down to her knees as she shakes your hand.

"Hi, there. What's your name?"

You say your name before letting out a giggle at her calling you beautiful.

"You want to be a doctor when you grow up?" She asks, hands pointing at the instrument hanging around your neck.

"Yes, ma'am. I want to be a heart doctor," you say, peering at the woman beside you. Thomas Wayne smiles before exchanging pleasantries with your grandfather.

"Oh, that's wonderful! You will be a great doctor one day, my dear."

And with that, the VHS comes to an end.

Bruce sniffles a little , his hands holding your waist, chin placed on top of your head. Silence fills the space along with the sounds of your nieces playing around the house. You don't know how long the both of you stayed like that, but it could have been forever, and you didn't mind at all.

Bruce is beyond happy. While it may not be visible to the naked eye, you could feel the joy emanating from the open crevices of grief and gaps of affection. He was happy that you —his wife, the love of his life — had met his parents. And they had gotten the chance to meet you.

Perhaps both of you really were soulmates.

A/N: Comments and Reblogs appreciated! Writing something for bruce after a long time.

[llovelygood]

The price of fame

actor!Dick Grayson x actress!reader

CHAPTER 2 — Every movie Dick Grayson has ever starred in has been a success, but the public doesn't seem pleased with him working in other types of movies outside of his usual genres. That's why the marketing team had to come up with a radical decision: promoting the film by having Dick and you fake a relationship.

!!: angst. fem!reader. no capes + fame au. slowburn, fake dating, enemies to lovers. +1.7k words (this chapter). not important OC appearance. English is not my first language. A/N: things are getting better!!! I hope you guys like this. And, as always, comments are reblogs are most appreciated. follow for more :3

[serie masterlist] ; [previous chapter] [next chapter]

As soon as it was announced that you and Dick were going to star in the movie, your names were all over the headlines. The fans were freaking out. Dick and you were coming back from a year of hiatus. The world was going crazy.

His name was making enough noise for the movie to cause high expectatives to the public. Having Dick Grayson as Charles, the main character, was a treat. The key for a movie to be popular. But, like every project, the movie couldn’t rely on the fame of one person. And the results of that were showing. 

After two weeks of the announcement, all the hype that had built up since then, had died. In fact, all that enthusiasm of seeing Dick Grayson in a rom-com, outside of his usual roles, had brought an extreme wave of criticism that was affecting the movie itself.

A week before the filming even started, the internet was already flooded with comments saying that the movie was “too cheesy for Grayson” or “a complete disaster that was going to ruin Dick’s career”. 

These comments were powerful, even more than whatever promotion strategy the marketing department could come up with for the movie. And suddenly, the movie everyone was waiting for, was already categorized as the “greatest disaster of the year”.

That was what brought you here. At one of Warner Bros’ Boardrooms, with their marketing team and other people involved in the movie.

Like Dick Grayson, seated right across from you. He looked relaxed, confident. His back was resting against the chair while his hands were intertwined over the large table. However, his jaw was tense and his eyes narrowed. He was not nervous, but something was bothering him.

A lot of things could be the cause of his attitude right now, stuff that was bothering you too. Like the immense silence that was filling the air, or the spokesperson—once he had dared to finally speak—avoiding completely the central topic they should be discussing.

Next to you, your agent didn’t look bothered at all. He just sat there, waiting patiently, like he had all the time of his life and would gladly use it to hear someone rambling about some stupid comments people make on tiktok.

Across from you, Dick’s agent didn’t seem pleased at all. She was excellent at hiding her annoyance, unlike you or Dick, but it was her polite coughing that made the poor marketing boy stop with his neverending speech.

“I’m sorry, It might be only me, but from my point of view you are not giving us the important information, and you are avoiding entirely the reason the two main actors had been called here.” 

Dick’s agent was a young woman, around your age. She had long ginger hair and green eyes, framed by a pair of glasses. You didn’t know her name yet, but she looked intimidating.

The spokesperson, a boy named Garrett, froze after her comment. He looked like a kicked puppy. His eyes were wide, his lip trembled and the papers he was holding with both hands started folding due to the force with which he was gripping them. 

“Yes. Sorry. To sum up, the expectations for this movie are worse than expected. The reason you two had been called today,” Garrett’s eyes moved from you to Dick while he talked “is because the promotion for the movie involves both of you actively.”

From the rim of your eyes you saw how Dick’s entire body shifted to sit properly on the chair. With his back straight and his elbows on the table, he was angled forward, but his entire expression was still tense. 

You, who had been quietly sitting on your chair for the past twenty minutes, finally decided to talk. “And, what does this promotion consist of?”

Garrett looked nervous, which was weird. When the marketing department presented an idea, they needed to be absolutely certain it was the project they wanted to sell—the one that would work and cause a reaction in people.

“Yes, so, what we want to do is cause a reaction in people by letting them see your reaction.” Poor Garrett couldn’t explain to save his life. 

Dick frowned and bit his lip. You raised an eyebrow and opened your mouth slightly. Dick’s agent rolled her eyes and yours yawned.

“Would you mind explaining better?” Dick asked.

Garrett nodded and swallowed before talking again. “We want people to think that this movie is worth watching because they are going to see you two fall in love with each other during the making of it.” 

To say you were speechless was not enough. 

“See you two fall in love with each other” 

No one, no man or god, was going to see you falling in love with Dick Grayson ever.

“Could you clarify, please?” Dick asked, he didn’t seem bothered at all by the bomb Garrett had just dropped.

“Yes. The final decision to promote this movie is for you two to fake a relationship.” Garrett repeated. Loud and clear.

“Is that the only option we have?” You asked, looking directly at the boy. Your desperation for a plan B present in your voice.

No. You couldn’t date Dick Grayson. Anyone but him.

“Unfortunately, we have discussed uncountable options and none of them could cause as much of an impact as this one.” 

Across from you, Dick dropped his body back onto his chair and turned to face his agent. 

“What do you think Babs?” His mouth curved into a tiny smile.

Barbara looked at you and then back at Dick. “Well, I think this could be positive for your image. After an entire year dissapearing because Kory broke up with you, you could finally end the ‘Manchild’ allegations. Besides, as far as I know, she isn’t problematic, so this could be beneficial for the movie and your persona.” She explained, nodding towards your chair.

Dick understood the situation. He had never been asked to fake a relationship before, but he was willing to do so just to promote this movie. 

Fuck him. He had never done a rom-com before; he was only doing this because Kory loved rom-coms and he was having the worst time getting over her. He wanted to get her attention. Some fans had already noticed this, of course, and maybe they were right but it wasn’t giving Dick a good image. Dating you could be somehow the remedy to that.

Barbara, better than anyone knew Dick’s situation. She knew this fake relationship was the ultimate key to cleaning up his reputation. And, as far as she knew, you needed this too; you weren’t as popular as Dick, and this could help you rise in the industry.

Dick turned back to face the marketing team, not after giving you one last look. He saw your frown, how you discussed with your agent without raising your voice. He could tell you weren’t pleased with the idea of fake dating him, but it wasn’t like either of you had a choice.

Dick smiled at the marketing team before saying: “Where do we have to sign?” 

Spring in California was your favorite. With sunny weather and flora blooming everywhere, it was the best season before the dry and hot summer. And today, on a random Friday in April, the outside breeze was helping you calm down.

You didn't have another option, the contract was right in front of you and across from you Dick had already signed it. You were now Dick Grayson’s fake girlfriend.

Your plan had been to ignore him as much as you could during the filming, and then tolerate him during the press tour, but now you also had to walk around with him, acting like you were in small getaways from work for paparazzis to spot you and the internet to start theorizing about you two.

From your spot, outside of the building the contract had been signed in, you could see all the people working. The actors and actresses relax after filming for hours. People running around with all the costumes and wigs for another film.

You could also see the stage where your movie was going to be filmed. You couldn’t tell if the feeling compressing your chest was excitement or the sudden, terrifying realization that there was no turning back now. 

“Hi”

You recognized him instantly. His deep and masculine voice, always wrapped up in a warm tone, like a heavy blanket over his words. 

Dick walked out of the building until he stood right next to you. 

“You didn’t seem pleased with the decision while signing the contract,” he pointed out.

“That’s because I wasn't pleased.” 

“Right. I’m sorry. You might be dating someone and this can make things complicated,”

“I’m not dating anyone.” You didn't know why you had answered so quickly, denying Dick’s thought of you in a relationship. “I’m just not comfortable with the idea of faking something like this. Relationships are complicated, and once people find out about this, things will end badly either way.” 

You finally turned to look at him and you were surprised to find Dick already looking at you.

“Yeah. I know that, better than anyone.” He thought about him and Kory, how everything had ended and the reaction of the fans once they announced their break up.

The fact that you would never be able to please everyone was something you needed to accept once you entered this industry. Everyone is going to have an opinion on everything you do; every decision you take, who you talk to, who you don’t talk to. And having a relationship with Dick Grayson was going to ruin you.

“I’ll try to be the best fake boyfriend, though,” Dick smiled, trying to ease the tension. 

However, you didn't smile back, you were too deep into your pessimistic thoughts that you couldn’t even fake it.

“We’ll see about that.” You said giving him one last look.

You started walking away from the building, looking forward to getting home as quickly as possible, but Dick calling you name made you stop on your tracks and turn around to face him one last time.

“At least can we get to know each other better? I mean, to make this more realistic.”

This was going to be a nightmare, and you had only just fallen asleep.

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© llovelygood

Dick Grayson taglist: @princesstrunkz @currentblasphemy @astraeasworld @fancy-possum

[llovelygood]

what if i write a Gray Ghost!Tim Drake x reader.....

Something like Tim coming back as Gray Ghost after Bernard's death (to get deep into the angst) and no one in the batfam knows that's Tim. And reader, who is a vigilante themself, starts thinking that Gray Ghost might be Tim so they en up following the new vigilante everywhere, and eventually they start having a situationship. And, idk people, i still have to think about this lol, but would you guys fuck with this??

[probablyboredx]

robin training

(dad!damian wayne x mom!reader)

summary; you watch damian training your son to be the next robin

masterlist

The Batcave hummed with its usual intensity, computer monitors flickering, walls swallowing most sound, the flickering dots of the tracking devices where Damian's siblings were patrolling. The batcave always felt like a place that didn’t belong to the surface world.

But tonight, it felt, almost domestic.

You stood a few steps back from the main training platform, arms folded, leaning against one of the stone pillars. From here, you could see everything: the suits lined up, from Bruces first batman suit to damians second robin suit 

And Damian stood at the center of it all in full Batman gear. Your husband moved with controlled precision as he adjusted the stance of the small figure in front of him.

“Again,” Damian said, voice low and firm through the cowl. “You hesitated on the pivot.”

Alfie, reset his stance. His Robin suit looked slightly too big on him, the red tunic still stiff from being new. But he wore it like it was already part of him.

“I didn’t hesitate,” Alfie muttered.

Damian tilted his head just slightly. “You did.”

Alfie scowled. “I was thinking.”

“That’s hesitation,” Damian replied.

From where you stood, you had to hide a smile at how alike Alfie was to Damian when he was younger. The only difference being that Damian had been trained since he was old enough to walk, and Alfie had only started training the previous year.

Alfie tried again.

This time he moved faster. A practiced spin, a controlled step, a simulated strike against his father. It wasn’t perfect, but it was improving in that way only Damian’s training could’ve gotten.

“Better,” he said. It wasn’t praise exactly, but coming from Damian it might as well have been a standing ovation.

Alfie’s shoulders relaxed a little. You glanced toward the far corner of the cave, where a small bundle of blankets rested on one of the emergency cots pulled in for the night. Juliet was asleep, she’d sat up there to play with her dolls earlier and dozed off a while ago. Her tiny face was half-buried in the fabric, one hand still loosely clutching the edge like she was afraid it might disappear.

“Again,” Damian said.

Alfie groaned this time. “We already did ‘again’ like ten times, dad.”

“Then ten more,” Damian replied without hesitation.

You pushed off the pillar slightly. “He’s seven, Dames”

Both Batman and his future Robin paused.

Damian turned his head just enough that you could see the edge of his expression beneath the cowl. “He will not be on the field if he cannot execute consistently.”

“I know,” you said, softer now, watching Alfie reset his stance again with a deep breath he clearly didn’t think anyone noticed. “But he’s also allowed to be seven while learning it.”

Alfie peeked over at you, grateful in the way only children are when they don’t want to admit it.

Damian looked back at him.

Then, after a beat: “Take a break.”

Alfie blinked. “Really?”

“Yes,” Damian said “five minutes.”

That might as well have been a holiday in Damians books Alfie immediately dropped his stance and ran toward the equipment bench, already talking about something unrelated to training, probably food, or video games, or both.

You watch him go with a smile, then turn to your husband “You’re going to turn him into a miniature version of you.”

“I am making sure he survives long enough to choose otherwise,” Damian said.

“That’s one way to phrase it.”

His gaze flicked briefly toward the cot where Juliet slept. Even through the mask, something in his posture softened a fraction.

“She should be in bed,” he said.

“She fell asleep halfway between deciding whether she was going to ‘help train robin,’ or just play with her dolls” you replied. “I don’t think she got much of a vote in where she fell asleep.”

Then, Damian walked over and adjusted the blanket around Juliet’s shoulders with more gentleness than anyone else ever saw from him. The Batman suit made the motion look almost unreal,  the world’s most dangerous man, the Batman and a trained assassin, fixing his child’s blanket so she wouldn’t get cold in the Batcave.

When he straightened again, Alfie’s voice echoed from across the cave, complaining about how “five minutes is basically nothing.”

You glanced at him. “Alfie?”

Damian didn’t look away from Juliet when he spoke to you “He is improving,” he said.

“Yes.”

That finally earned something like a quiet exhale from him—almost amusement, almost surrender.

A beat passed. “And Juliet?” you asked.

“She is already dangerous,” Damian said. “Just in a different way.”

You smiled, watching your daughter sleep peacefully and joke. “She’s a second child, they usually are a little more feral,” 

Alfie shouted from the bench, “Do I still have to do ten more rounds?!”

Damian turned slightly towards Alfie “Yes,” he said simply.

Alfie groaned and you leaned back against the railing again, watching them start back up.

Just a father and a son in the batcave. Behind you, Juliet made a tiny sleepy sound again, hugging one of her dolls tighter.

You glanced over at her, then back at your boys.

[p3anut47]

id like to interact with my mutuals more but i get scared pls forgive me