Hello! Welcome to my blog! This is where I spew out anything I'm into at the moment regardless of which fandom. Ask box is always open for both asks and simply to chat! : ) Please note when requests are open, it'll take longer for me to reply. Read rules and fandom list before requests!
Current fandoms I'm into right now: DC Bat and Super fam, Windbreaker (Webtoon), Lookism, Lout of Count Family (novel ver), and other webnovels (send an ask for current list), Blue Beetle (Jaimes Reyes), Green Arrow (Conner Hawke), DareDevil (TV and comic ver), Reality Quest
Just going to put it out there but for any request (which is still open btw), please refer to what's listed for the fandoms I'll write for. For any post for fandoms NOT listed means I actually don't interact with it as much to feel comfortable to writing it out of the fact I don't have much knowledge for the characters outside of those I'm genuinely interested it in.
Summary: in which you spend too much time with someone other than himself for too long and he makes it known he doesn't like that
Trigger warning: dark? (though lowkey lohen is a trigger warning himself)
“Who was that?”
“@#$%! Father of muscles, mother of pearls- that scared me!”
Any other time he’d laugh and coo. Right now? There isn’t a single drop of amusement in him.
The amount of patience he had before that was something everyone, you and the Knights of Favonius, should’ve been thankful for. Using everything to restrain and hold himself back while watching you laugh and simile to your heart’s content with someone you were seemingly causally hanging out with. Then came the hug.
A hug is an action that requires physically wrapping your arms around someone. Physical touching someone. Something that is solely his, only his, you gave to someone else. Someone that’s not him.
For you to betray him like this? How dare you.
He takes a step towards you. Then another.
It’s purely coincidental yet convenient for you to trip and fall into the seat of the chair that was behind you, his arms shooting out and caging you in.
Then swinging a leg over yours, he squeezes his to clamp yours down, completely immobilizing you.
“I thought I told you already.” His knuckles turn white as his grip tightens on the backrest, the eerie glow of his red eyes intensifying as he slowly leans towards you.
“You’re mine.” Foreheads almost touching, his lips brushing against yours as he talks. Yet his gaze stays ice cold, his pupils in slits similar to that of a snake. “All mine. No one can have you. Will ever have you.”
The paper-thin gap closes, him sealing it shut.
“You.”
Chuu
“Are.”
Chuu
“Mine.”
He brings and wraps both hands around your head, palms squishing your cheeks, fingers tangling your hair and pressing down on your scalp, to pull you and deepen the kiss.
Satisfaction curls inside him, watching through half-lidded eyes your flush going from ears down to your neck, pink gradually darkening into dark red.
It’s when you start smacking his chest, weakly, more resembling a thump, he realizes it’s no longer from fluster but the lack of oxygen and breaks it off though with a scowl.
“You-“
“He’s my brother!”
…Hah?
“He was supposed to come over tomorrow so, I was going to tell you today! I didn’t expect him to surprise me by coming today or appearing at my workplace!”
His expression couldn’t get any more flat. Seriously, it didn’t have to be today. Yesterday. The day before. Even last week. Would it have killed you to simply tell him in advance? Not last minute?
No matter. Guess he’ll just have to teach you the hard (his favorite) way.
Next day, he appears to work with a genuine smile on his face causing the knights avoid him at all cost more so when they catch him humming with a light jump in his steps while Varka and Jean, the sole two to know why, could only send a mental wish for you to rest in peace and hopefully gain the ability to walk again by next week.
Hello!! I hope you have a nice day! Could you write fluff with Poel Reynolds, please ? 🙏🏻
A/n: for him, ofc! 💕😉
“Let. Go.”
“Just hear me out!”
So maybe it was a bad idea to poke you when you were already annoyed. But you were being cute! Curled up on the sofa with the blanket wrapped around you. It only started after calling you a pill bug.
“Roly poly?”
“No, it’s pill bug.”
“No it’s not, they’re called roly poly.”
Again. Not the best timing on his part to tease you by gloating he was right that New Yorkers use “pill bug” over “roly poly” when you were sleep deprived and trying to catch some z’s for your next shift.
Still, he didn’t mean for you to leave-! All he wanted to do was to join-! Especially with your tendency when grouchy grumbling yet physically affectionate and yearning for it, he can’t miss out on this opportunity-!
“Where are you going anyways??” And where in the world did you get the strength to drag him across the floor? The last time you hit the gym, you said his routine was way too intense for you. Unless…were you going behind his back? Without him??
“My bed. In my room.”
Instantly he freezes.
Oh no. Oh no, no, no. This is bad. You weren’t grouchy anymore; you’re annoyed. This means no more cuddles for the day. Worse, he’ll have to sleep on the sofa tonight. All alone. Without you.
“What if I said I’m sorry?”
The kicked puppy look didn’t work, your expression flat as you go back to trudging towards said destination.
It ends up worth being dragged across (and new reason for him to never to piss you off; like seriously, how much can you bench to be able to handle someone his weight), him still holding onto you half way there where you finally waved the white flag and gave in.
The second you do, he‘s already picking and holding you up in a princess hug, doing the rest of the hard work of getting you to the bed where he flops you and himself and keeps you in his arms as you fall back to sleep. He ends up joining you, blissfully and purely satisfied, when you snuggle into him while your hands, though drowsy and lightly, grips his shirt.
Hello! If your requests are still open, would it be okay to request reader X BatBoys where they get jealous of reader’s brother? They don’t know they’re related, so all they see is reader and this dude hugging, laughing and hanging out like they’ve knew each other since forever (I mean, yes, but not in the way they’re probably thinking) with this mystery guy they never heard of before the boys are told the truth lol
Dick:
It’s out of pure reflex, practice, and having to do it for so long his smile looks natural and friendly. Yet the grip he has on his bicep that gets tighter over time and the tick in his jaw says otherwise, holding himself from letting strain appear on his face the more you laugh and giggle.
At this point, he won’t be surprised if he’s forgotten and genuinely, most likely will lose it if you do. The occasional banter and nudging fine. But then came the hugs. Hand holding. Inside jokes that only you two know. And the fact you won’t stop smiling-! You don’t even smile that much around him-! Your boyfriend-!
It was already bad enough that he had to experience this the last time the two of you hung out with your girl friends (had a whole thing of thinking he’s about to lose you to one of them no thanks to Steph and Cass teasing on the side). Now there’s this guy, the person you simply said you’re close to while failing to tell him he was a he and very chummy with you.
Worst is that he couldn’t give him a warning of backing off whether it’s making the handshake harder than necessary or keeping a hand on you so you’d stay with him when it’s clear the other is someone important to you and you’re the one staying by him. All he can do is try sticking himself to you as much as possible while being nonchalant and “enjoying” the conversation all while not making you realize his mind is reeling. Like, does anyone realize how hard it is to do that??
Shaking his head. Chopped liver. The garnish people look at but not eat.
“By the way, mom is wanting to know if she can stop by next week. Something about you accidentally leaving your usb at home?”
…Mom?
“Oh, right! I forgot about that!”
Hold on. The guy he’s been hanging out with you this whole time-
Cerulean blue meets a pair of eyes the same shade as yours, his face palling as the other sneakily grins at him, seemingly aware of what he’s been thinking and feeling since the very beginning.
Hence the hard time in making up a reason why he’s out of it and going through a mid-life existential crisis when you ask him what’s wrong on the way back. Like, how does one tell their significant other their sibling has it out for them without looking like a jerk nor embarrassing themselves for mistaking him as a rival.
Jason:
He’s going down. How? No clue, haven’t figured that part out yet. But what he does know, one more time he wraps his arm around and pulls you closer to him, it’s over. Done. Going six feet under.
“Are you for real, right now?”
“Hey, it’s not mine. It’s yours.”
An eyebrow twitches, his scowl hidden behind the mug as he takes a sip of the coffee that’s just as bitter as his soul.
There’s no rhyme or reason. No story or context on why you’re so close to him or him close to you. Actually, scratch that. You never do any wrong so it's really only the latter and that dude is in his spot, next to his s/o and needs to go. Now.
In fact, this whole day, he hasn’t seen you stop giggling. The gentle, teasing pinching. The tiny pranks including the one you got caught for currently in front of him i.e., placing your least favorite in your dish on the other’s.
Is the sky blue? Is water wet? It’s clear the other doesn’t appreciate the affection you’re showering him with from the annoyance leaking in his voice and shoving. Which is fine, honestly. Not his problem. If only it was being given to him, that is.
Like, that should be him! The one sitting next to and teasing you! The opportunity to see you be adorable-! But no. It’s getting completely wasted on a person who doesn’t want it one bit while he’s left alone, in the dust, third wheeling dammit all-!
“Introducing your boyfriend” his ass, more like realizing he’s the side chick. The urge to sucker punch him is so bad only for him to not be able to because he loves you and don’t want you to think bad of him-
“For the last time, stop being a brat!”
“Brat?! Mom gave birth to me first years before you; respect your elders!”
“It’s only a year??”
What?
“What?” He asks, miraculously remembering the coffee remaining in his mug as he lowers it.
“Oh, right.” Blinking, you then offer a sheepish grin. “Should’ve mentioned it before that this guy here is my sibling, huh.”
What the fuck.
That night you were in for it, trying to get him to stop sulking by cuddling and promising to spend the entirety of next week solely with him as his mind reminds him who he was showing jealousy against and renewing the desire to simply dig back into his hole all over again.
Tim:
Not once his fingers stop moving, continuously tapping the screen of his phone.
Who is this man. Where did he come from. What is he to you. Since when did he know you. How does he know you. Why does he know you.
Asked Oracle, stalked under his burner accounts on Facebook, Instagram, Reddit, and other socials. Considered coining a favor with the big boss himself only to not with how exposing (and embarrassing) it would be to show his parent that he’s being pettifully jealous and somewhat obsessive (actually really obsessive).
Last time he remembers (last night before going to bed) he was pretty sure he was the only man in your life and in this relationship. You even called him Mr. Your-one-and-only-boyfriend. Yet here he is, here you are, next to the guy you only mentioned, what. Once? In passing? Not even telling him if he’s your friend, neighborhood, where in the branch of people this guy stands.
“Oh, hey. I’m going to go hang out for a bit, want to come with me” is all you tell him. And without context, he thought it was just going to be the two of you, alone, spending quality time.
It was very not nice to meet the other, acting rather than being normal when he watches you give a bear hug that’s usually his and won’t let go.
At least he’s yet to be caught by you, his skills top notch in keeping up and taking part of the conversation while under the table, he’s busy typing away. Though, he’s close in physically prying off your arm that’s still wrapped around the other. That or shoving him away. Or both.
In fact, he might as well if the guy doesn’t stop ruffling your hair as you whine but don’t actively attempt to stop him.
“So, anyway, when are you going to let dad meet your boyfriend?”
Hmm?
Fingers pause in midair, the complaint haft drafted and meant to be sent to Babs who had messaged him he should either figure it out himself or straight up ask you abandoned as he slowly looks up to the two of you.
“What? Since when? All he said was I should check out the new project he started when I come by next weekend-“ You pause when now revealed to be your brother, nudges you and points at him. “Ah.”
An earful of nagging later after going back to his place, it becomes a whole thing of you trying persuade him it’s going to be fine as he lies on the couch, clenching on a pillow in trying to figure out last minute how he’s going be able to convince your dad to give his approval.
Duke:
This can’t be happening. Legit, he has to be thinking or seeing way too into it.
Lifting his head up, he turns to his right and- yup. The two of you are still chatting on the other side of the bench, quite happily he might as well add.
Sighing for the nth time, he slouches and rubs his face with both hands.
To be fair, it didn’t seem like anything at first. It’s common for kids in the school to have friends from other schools or family wait at the gate which was what he assumed when the other wasn’t wearing a uniform as he waved at you. Then there was your reaction, making a face at him as he, your boyfriend, asked if you knew him to which you replied back he’s just someone you know.
Well he’s definitely not “just someone” if you’re talking and joking with him for over an hour as the three of you wait for the delayed bus that’s supposed to come pick you up. Next thing he knows, you’ll be sitting on the two-person seats with the other while he has to brace for himself. Best case scenario is the bus is full and he’s quick enough to usher you to the available seat that’ll get you to sit next to him. Then nature will do its thing in doing natural selection and he won’t have to lift a finger to get the other away from you. But, what if it’s empty? Or he’s faster than him and somehow miraculously finds two empty seats next to each other and gets you to sit with him while having him (Duke) left standing? Or-
A groan nearly slips out, dragging his hands down. No. Nope. He’s going crazy. Insane. He, he needs help. Fast.
“Ow!”
That gets his attention, looking over and raising an eyebrow at the sight of the guy rubbing his arm (may or may have mentally questioned if the other was weak until he remembers how strong you actually were and end up somewhat pitying the other).
“You are so rude!”
“I’m your brother??”
Oh, fuck no.
“Duke, you good over there?”
“Peachy.”
Peachy his ass. He can’t exactly say no, now can he-?! Worse, the one time he needs you to not look at him, you are and it takes the whole ride to persuade you that it was from pollen getting to him that caused him to act that way only to have it pointed out allergy season was long gone and there’s barely any nature around them.
Damian:
Father is a liar. Richard is a liar. Everyone is a liar.
Sharing is not caring; if anything, it’s an inconvenience that’s causing more problems than anything else in this world.
Arms cross over, lips curled into a deep scowl, he can feel himself twitch every time you laugh. It’s not any laugh, either. Barking, cackling, howling. It would take him three days and three nights to get half way down the list to describe each and every one of them.
It’s as if he’s not fun to be with, simple amusement an understatement to describe the scene unfolding next to him as you act like you’re having the time of your life at anything and whatever the unknown human says.
Head facing the opposite direction, he doesn’t need to observe any further for him to come to the conclusion that the guy in front of you is someone that needs to be removed ASAP. Suddenly appearing and rudely injecting himself on the very rare him and you alone time, not introducing himself, leaning over and making you act as his arm and head rest. It was literally last week how you gave him an earful for being overguarded and not showing baseline courtesy hence his attempt by offering a hand and introducing himself first. It’s thwarted, crushed, and he becomes an irredeemable enemy as his first words weren’t “Oh nice to meet you, my name is ___ “ but “woah, you’re tiny”.
You, on the other hand. You defend him for less than a second only to instantly get swept along to the other’s tune. You don’t even shove him off! At least he’s polite enough to make sure you give him a sign that you’re fine with it but this?? How could he, this random-coming-from-nowhere, be able to touch you more than him, your significant other? Your boyfriend-?!
“Tt.” Him having not said a single word should be considered a blessing and miracle in itself, resorting to glaring every time the other tries to further touch you.
Seeing the other’s hand rising up to what seems to be patting your head, his patience snaps and he’s about to genuinely slap said offending object.
“This is why I’m the favorite in our family!”
“As if! Mom and dad love me more!”
…What did he just hear?
Plans to give the silent treatment goes out the window, cheeks simply catching on fire when, the second your brother leaves, you suddenly press your lips on his cheek and tell him he’s the only one for you.
Summary: how he acts when you’re on a trip without him
Gun:
Mom > boyfriend before you left, making sure you packed everything properly e.g., clothes folded without getting wrinkled, snacks in the front pocket of the carry-on to munch on the plane, had your passport and ID, etc
May or may not ended up becoming him packing for you because it wasn’t to his liking but whatever, it’s you he’s doing for and that’s all that matters
Otherwise, fine for the most part, checking in and making sure you’re okay and having fun a healthy amount of times
Occasionally creep and scare the people around him by the smirk or tiny smile on his face from the text or picture you send him (he saves the ones that has you in it)
Just don’t mention how his smoke break gets longer or how fast he’s going through the boxes of cigarettes, especially during the hump of the stretch. Add teasing, it won’t go well
Spends the last three days to hours tidying the place up and timing the cooking exactly right, hot and ready the second you arrive after getting dropped off by your friends
Ends up getting eaten later, unable to resist and bask in the hug that you give as you tell him you’re back from his mind, then, registering that you were
Goo:
Man-child >> boy-friend before you left, whining why he couldn’t go on the trip with you to sulking and going on how he was going to enjoy and have more fun during his time alone without you to accusing that you didn’t want to be with him anymore then once again begging you to take him with you/cancel the trip and stay
Does goes out and buy things you most likely were going to need or want on your way there despite everything, stuffing them in your bags and checking you’re good to go
Once you left, it continued and causes everyone headaches as he takes his mood out on them, one second enjoying being a menace and terror, the next complaining how he was left all alone, treated like chopped liver
To be fair, he did try, playing video games, reading his favorite mangas, doom-scrolling online but couldn’t focus on any of them from how noticeable the lack of your presence was as he constantly checked every five seconds if you texted or called him or not
Speaking of which, it’s when you do he becomes tolerable, perking up and deciding life is okay and all is forgiven making you an angel to those around him (all not prompted btw; last time someone ever texted you he made sure to get it across he did not like that whatsoever)
Last few days, especially, it disturbs the people close to him how abnormally happy and cheerful he becomes at some point humming
Should be expected for him to slide across the floor and cling on to you as soon as you enter through the door, doing the whole distressed wife who hasn’t seen her husband in months e.g., where were you, how could you leave me as his way in expressing he missed you
James:
Externally fine, mentally crashing out during the time you leave
Up until you left, he was the perfect, supporting boyfriend genuinely believing he would be fine even giving you a car ride to the airport himself
First day of you gone, he walks through the door and has his arms wide open only for his mind to remind him you’re not here right after
Gets worse as days past by, at one point wondered where you were while waking up from an annoying and extremely busy night the day before
Never felt so grateful to have a packed schedule until then, using it as an excuse to be on his phone nonstop as he waited for you to get in touch with him and instantly opening his messages or answering the phone before it rings when you do
His patience starts waning, becoming snippy and finding himself having a harder time maintaining his composure near the end
Takes a rare day off on the day you arrive (may or may have not also blocked everyone that’s not you on top of that), unknowingly smiling so angelically that you tell him it’s burning your retinas once you walk in while not letting you go and sticking to your side for the rest of the day out out of pure and true happiness that you’re back and having missed you so much
Summary: How they show they like you/ types of crush they have
Choi Sunjae: externalized insanity; mix of red and green flag that brings the clown and the circus
Social life? Non-existent. If not, better hold a funeral for it
He goes completely all-out in confessing his life for you as if it’s a challenge to top his day-before-self in ensuring that you know he very much likes you
Wheels a ten-tier, wedding sized cake with the sparklers saying “I love you” whenever the two of you “coincidentally” hang out,, dozen bouquets of a dozen roses in his hands and in your face as he stands in front of your door
Hovers and sticks right next to you, one second on your left, right, in front, behind, making hearts with his arms or fingers as he throws every line and compliment in the book
Biggest cheerleader over every thing, big and small in the most embarrassing way e.g., “Kyaa, that’s so hot!”, “Gorgeous! Wonderful! Beautiful!”
All smiles and sparkles in front of you but the second someone shows interest or tries to hit on you, he’s giving them The Look that could bury someone 6 ft. under over your shoulder or behind your back
That or casually wraps an arm around their shoulder and goes somewhere with them only to come back alone. If you ask where the other party go, well it sounds like they had an errand to run, so-
May seem comedic and exaggerated but all of this genuine, sincere, and partially him holding himself back from clinging and begging you on his knees to go out with him
Cheon Minchul: internalized insanity; life-threatening, walking red flag
To whomever garners his fancy, R.I.P, you will be missed
A complete, considerate and gentle gentleman on the outside with a friendly and affectionate smile whenever he’s around you when, there’s no knowing how many times he had mentally repeated “I love you”
“Somehow” manages to know all your likes, dislikes, both current and past, getting you things you needed or want at the moment
Same with telling you the things you needed to hear at the right time while appearing when you need him the most
Seems chill, that one guy who’s friends with everyone whenever the two of you are hanging out
But let it be known, he WILL know if someone holds the smallest hint of interest towards you, even before they, themselves, realize it
It’s worse if they show it in front of him, the smile on his face increasingly looking kinder than ever as his eyes scans and memorizes every trait of that person before smoothly intervening and taking you elsewhere while, that very night, an “accident” happens and the person goes missing and most likely never to be found again
In turn, this whole thing is a double edge sword to him as many times his patience will be tested and waned, leading to him to express jealousy masking it as a joke or under the pretense of being friends when it’s him being real only to find himself unable to do anything and suffer because he can’t get mad at you
Jung Seokyoung: pure hearted yet has the most severe case of being Hot-and-Cold
Tries to be all aloof and indifferent when everything you do makes his heart pound and race in every single
Legit, he’s not just training in strength- he’s having to train in acting too because he can’t act normal around you
Snippy, rougher, talks gruffer to cover his fluster and flushed cheeks from being hyper-conscious of how close you are to him and noticing another trait that makes you c-cu-cute-
Subconsciously scooches/takes a step closer to you each day to shorten the gap between you two when sitting/standing and only to realize and flush what’s been happening when the two of you bump into each other while full out sulking and getting grumpy whenever you scooch/take a step away mistakenly thinking it was you that got too close
Constantly does acts of service or randomly gives you small gifts after long complications of thinking and hoping you’d like it either with an excuse e.g., happened to be around, got said gift by chance and didn’t want it or leaving (cough running away) without saying anything,before you can ask, nonetheless let out a syllable
Him bristling is a defense mechanism to hide how affected he is by you and the furious blush that goes head to tip of the ears to the base his neck over any accidental of brushing of hands, arms, etc
Peace is not an option and everything is going down if someone hits on or starts fancying you in any shape or form, glaring daggers and face completely devoid of emotion to get the message across to fuck off or else
As long as no one points it out blatantly or in front of you, everything is still fine or else, he’s either on another journey for self-discovery of his heart or taking down everyone he sees who makes a peep about it
Kang Sehun: pure hearted, golden-retriever coded
Does everything he can to make himself look attractive and cool in front and towards you from talking how much he works out to showing off his muscles constantly
Especially if he’s talking with others, he constantly glances at you to make sure you’re listening and, hopefully, at the bare minimum, glance at him
Becomes insufferable when you show any signs of acknowledgment, smiling nonstop and bragging while sulking and pouting all day if you don’t, grumbling about your immunity and how it works on the others which gets worse when you hear it and decide toast is for dinner
Surprisingly honors chivalry, where he’s opening the doors for you, pulling your chair, doing favors you ask to ensure you get the best of the best you deserve
The spot right next to you? That’s his. He didn’t make the rules but it’s his and it’s not up for debate. Anyone who says otherwise can and should screw off
Speaking of screwing off, anyone who approaches with intent of flirting, picking up, or showing attraction - they are required to screw off and he will make sure they enforce it
Like literally, gets and stands in front of you and confronts them, sizing them up while saying the classic “they’re with me” or “you need something, buddy?”
Doesn’t mind the scolding that follows since it means your holding his hand, wrist, or arm as you drag him away to “calm him down”
Hiiiii!!!!!! I need more Oliver (windbreaker webtoon), pleeeeaaaseee
a/n: yes anon, you and me both 😭
Has he ever felt this nervous before?
“Oliver, don’t they look so pretty?” You hold out your hand, lips stretched widely in excitement.
“Yeah, it really does.”
His hand won’t stop toying with the box in his pocket, readjusting his grip every ten seconds as if it’ll fall out of it.
Clover had said you’d love it, even Pohl agreed that it would. Considering it being spring, cherry blossoms in the city are in full bloom making today “a perfect day to confess”. Or that’s what he was told.
The real problem is him explaining why. The excuse for today’s outing was simply wanting to spend time with you. The rest? It’s not as if he can say it’s from childish jealousy…!
Slowly piling up inside him, driving him nuts every time someone gets too close to you to his liking leading sleepless nights in figuring out how to show the two of you are the pair without taking extreme measures. Like, okay, sure he isn’t open and doesn’t tend to really show he’s in a relationship but it doesn’t mean he hasn’t been dropping obvious hints-!
“Wouldn’t it be nice if everyday were like this?”
Pink and white petals flutter through the air. You’re smiling.
…Dammit all, it’s either now or never.
Gently engulfing your outstretched hand in his, his other hand jiggles in his pocket for a bit before slipping something on your finger then his.
“Yeah,” his smile stretches wider as he watches your eyes gradually widen as it registers what’s being given.
To say the least, he’s satisfied seeing you wearing the ring around your neck like him, the blue gem sparkling in the light as you wave at him.
hey so how do you think Dick grayson and Damien wayne (both have pets and love animals equally) would deal with having a s/o who is a super animal lover. Like he introduced s/o to Haley and s/o picks up Haley and is like “I’m going to cry! She’s so tiny~!”. Or they’re out on a mission/walk and s/o like “You are so handsome”, next to Dick/Damian, when he looks over, he sees s/o with a cat in their arms. Or they could be in africa for a mission and he looks away for one second and then back and “why is there a cheetah sitting with you?” And s/o isn’t touching the cheetah cuz it’s wild, but it keeps head booping her for affection. Or suddenly, s/o is sat on a camel/horse. Sometimes s/o notices the boys feeling left out and surprises them by going “you’re so handsome” and then goes over and kisses their boyfriend?
Dick:
Wow. Amazing. Incredible.
“Oh, you’re so so cute!”
Pressed against the cage with a wingspan longer than his own height, the softest chirps come out from the bald eagle’s beak as - he? she? - nuzzles towards you.
Not a friend, not a parent, sibling, and most definitely not an ex. He’s being cockblocked by the animals, sorry let’s rephrase that, by ALL the animals in the zoo.
He already knew you were an animal lover, day one of you meeting Haley when he invited you over the first time was spent with you gushing over her and her enjoying all the attention and affection thrown at her. Which, don’t give him wrong, he actually was happy and all for it. Supported it from the bottom of his heart.
But then came the cats that jump and occupy your arms during the whole date in the park. Birds that won’t stop cooing from the window ledge day and night when he’s trying to spend some time with you.
This? Like, hello? Aren’t you forgetting someone? Oh, he doesn’t know, maybe YOUR boyfriend?
Lions and tigers were pawing at the glass affectionately and purring towards you, he got into it with a red panda( not even the giant panda bear, but raccoon-like panda) glaring and hissing accusatorily over your shoulder for him stealing your attention off the other, which the audacity-! When they’re the ones hogging what should be, at least, shared with him-!
“Dick.”
Suddenly there’s something soft and warm pressed on his cheek. An extremely familiar softness and warmth.
“You still here?” The way you smile at him, eyes sparkling reminding him who’s still the center of your heart.
Despite the good intentions behind it, unfortunately,that’s all it takes for your fate to be sealed as later that night he makes a point how deprived he was of your love and attention.
Damian:
Is this what it's like to be Drake without his caffeine? Todd when someone mentions Wuthering Height’s adaptation as a movie?
“Well, aren’t you handsome and gorgeous!” The horse nickers, head rubbing against yours while you giggle.
Why. Just why. What did he do wrong to deserve this?
The invite to Jon’s neighbor’s farm was supposed to be a one-sided win-win situation. Spend time with you while being surrounded by farm animals especially when he went out of his way and staged a little situation so that the former would leave you two alone for a while.
Apparently, fate had other ideas. The rabbits, sheep, cows- how you attracted them he has no idea. What part of you they were attracted towards, he has no idea. Heck, he doesn’t even know who he should feel more jealous of: you or them.
He loves animals, often and confidently arguing more than you, while, never out loud, it’s him that’s more… “affected” by you more than you from him(and no, he’s not blushing or beating around the bush of what he means).
Goliath, Bat Cow, Ace, and Alfred aren’t bad; smart, intelligent to keep things fair in giving the same amount of affection between the two of you.
Outside the mansion is a completely different story. Squirrels from the parks share their nuts with you. Don’t ever bring up the safari the two of you went on. Yes, it was fun riding an elephant. The giraffes and antelopes trying to push him away from you, not so much.
Then there’s you who indulges them, showering them with the same amount of fondness and endearment like right now-
“Damian, look!” The chick rubs and further presses into your cheek as you giggle and hold the smaller animal closer to yourself.
No thoughts, everything comes to a halt.
To much of his relief and embarrassment, Jon comes back just in time and helps to reassure you that he wasn’t developing a fever though he didn’t appreciate the teasing given behind your back.
A/N: had to cut this down so much from making it originally a whopping, two-whole page essay 😭
To put it short and simple: completely laid back on the outside, protective AF on the inside
Watching his kid, he’s great at it in the most laziest way especially when they were a baby
Simply plops them on his chest or lap depending if he’s lying down or sitting (might simply hold them in his arms if neither works) and plays something entertaining for both him and the other on his phone and just like that, his kid is distracted and not throwing a fuss
Hungry in the midst of watching? Needing something to fiddle with? Not a problem- the stand next to the sofa is already prepped with snacks, baby formula, and toys. All he has to do is reach over and continue bringing food to their mouth or jiggle the toy every so often as both of their eyes stay glued to the screen
Most definitely was charged guilty once for getting caught by you with placing a napkin over his kid’s head to finish a burger. Also, later on, making his child seem like the rest of the “iPad kids” once they’re older and can and won’t stop holding an iPad on their own as they sit next to him while he doom scrolls on his phone
Same thing with nap time. In fact, it’s his favorite since it gives him an excuse to nap too (100% cause of his kid sleeping the same posture as him whether it’s tucking an arm under their head or sleeping on their side)
Food? Usually take-out or something pre-made/pre-packaged
Like literally, will stand in front of the fridge and reenact Dean in The Iron Giant except instead of coffee it’s either milk, flavored (banana) milk, or juice because bold for anyone to assume he can cook
Don’t ask him to teach them, including how to ride a bike. He’s only going to get confused why they aren’t able to on the first try or require training wheels in the first place
Literally, not even trying to be mean. genuinely would be scratching his head and go “why?”
Depending what his kid gets in trouble for at school, the way he tells them it’s bad and not to do it again is slightly, slightly, different as, usually, the scolding is left for his s/o to do since he also gets scolded just as much despite being an adult and parent too
Cheating on an assignment or test = “cheating is bad, don’t do it again”, not listening = “not listening is bad, don’t do it again”
Get into a fight with a school mate and in front of the adults, it’ll be the same spiel in the flattest tone heard to mankind
The second the two of them leave the office, first real question is did they win which then proceeds to him and his child going out for a treat as he praises them a “good job” at the mention of them hitting the other back
But if he catches any sort of injury, even the tiniest, hear it was one-sided, or they were crying will lead to the next day, where the family whose kid fought his are suddenly moving to a new city while said kid drops out of school then and there
There’s no rhyme or reason however there’s PTSD engraved in them, more so their kid at the sight of Miffy and any other cute white bunnies holding anything that resembles a bar or riding a scooter
In the meantime, his kid is talking about having met a hero named Mr. Bunny last night, how cool he is and how they want to become like him, and he isn’t sure what to say or feel though ends up getting them a stuff toy that somewhat resembles him
This is it. This is how you’re going to enter your villain’s arc.
“…You thought all those test tubes were colored for people who can’t taste the rainbow to see the rainbow. And said that to the patient who was complaining of loss of taste.”
“I mean. It’s not like there are other reasons for them, you know?”
You slowly turned your head towards your fellow senior resident standing between you and the other.
“…It made the patient laugh?”
Blonde, heavy make-up, smacking loudly on pink bubble gum, and a heavy valley-girl voice. When everyone’s been saying the new group of residents were a piece of work, you thought you were prepared. Hell, you work at Gotham Hospital- home of every horror story imagined for any working in the field. Child wielding a knife? Happens every day in the psyche ward. Guts spilling out? That’s the least of the worst injuries patients come in with through the ER. Nothing could compare to that, right?
It’s barely two hours into the shift and already three of the new residents were reported to HR for risking the life of their patients. One dosing the wrong medication to the wrong person, another refusing to order blood for a patient that was showing the worst case of anemia. And now there’s this chick, not wanting to collect lab work herself because it’ll ruin her new mani.
Forget about the people outside, it’s going to be the newbies killing everyone off instead.
It’s not helping you’re on week two giving the family the silent treatment over the window incident. It’s one thing to break a window. It's another for the landlord to tell you it’s going to take a month. You have to be stupid to believe that when it’s one window. One!
Sure, fine. Say it’s because of the danger with Joker, Bane, and Lady Death Man, the three that also happen to know Batman’s identity, are on the loose and you’re the only “normal one” in the family. It doesn’t mean it requires putting you into lockdown and monitoring twenty-four seven to the point of keeping you closed-off in the Manor.
It was supposed to be simply not talking to them. Then came the calls. Texts. Email. Block, block, block you go to get the point across you. Are. Pissed.
…Welp. You’re not getting paid enough to deal with any of this and jokes on everyone you’re in charge tonight.
“ ‘Kay. Then, you’re dismissed,” smeared mascara eyes widen and stare at you while another pair turns into despair as you turn towards the other, “and you can explain to your guy’s mentor why she’s dismissed and why you’re taking over for her.”
“W-what?! You can’t do that!” She stomps her foot, balling her hands into fists.
“Do what? Prevent you from causing more harm to patient care? Or expediting your journey to the peer-review board- which in that case you're welcome that I’m the one ripping the bandage off because your mentor, Dr. Abel, would’ve done it worse-“
Instantly, high-pitch beeping blares through the hallway as every single pager goes off.
You don’t forget to hold your hand out and wait for her to hand over her pager as you press the tiny button on yours and look down at the screen.
“Come on, no more gunshot wounds. We already have two.” You groan, the irony of you wishing you were the one getting dismissed once you read the alert.
You ignore the sting on your palm after a certain witch smacks the pager into your hand before fuming out and, politely, place it into the begrudgingly held out one.
“Think you’ll make it to the breakfast meet up at this rate?” Despite the scrunch-up expression, there’s sympathy and relief in his voice, most likely glad to not have to be the one to deal with the oncoming onslaught though feeling bad knowing how busy you’ve been as soon as you started.
“Has to be my first rodeo to not.”
He gives you a nod and a pat on the back, wishing you good luck which you most definitely going to need.
You turn around and expertly weave between bodies, chaos continuing with people yelling, nurses calling for residents and physicians. And then there’s this:
“I’m telling you, I’m not on that fear gas! The British. Are. Coming!”
“Hey, hey, girlfriend. It’s Abby from the emergency department again. Can we get security for a combative patient in hall B room 201?”
“Seriously, just one day. One normal day is all I ask.” You grumble under your breath.
Screw it. HR better approve your two weeks off for the next schedule because you will die on this hill, it’s either that or you’ll walk out and make the remaining eleven senior residents turn into ten.
It takes less than three minutes for you to reach your destination.
…You wish it didn’t and took longer instead.
You can’t be kidding me…
“Ti-“ You bite your lips down.
Familiar black hair, pale skin more ghostly than ever. It doesn’t matter if his eyes are closed. No matter when, where or how far away, you would always be able to recognize him. Even if it’s on a patient’s bed.
Deep breathe in, a deep breath out. You got this. You’ve gone through it multiple times. You have to get a grip.
“Someone give me a report.” Managing to squeeze past the bodies, you get close beside him.
Finger tips trembling, stomach churning, you not fumbling is purely out of muscle reflex and completely used to doing it so many times. You wanted to shake him, yell at him how many times you’ve warned him to be careful and not put himself in danger. Ask if he or anyone else knows how much worry and fear you carry that the ER would become the last place you would see them. Hell, this was exactly why-
The second your hand reaches towards his neck, you pause. Then sigh.
Of course, he wasn’t alone. Thank goodness. It was already strange that he was pretty stable but you were more concerned about the actual wound to really think about it once it was mentioned no one actually inspected it (more disciplinary paperwork to file, hooray. At least it’s not on another resident). It’s seeing a familiar bandage produced and used by a popular vigilante that also happens to be personally close to you, everything comes together.
“Figures.” You grumble under your breath, annoyed yet tinged in relief.
“Sorry, care to repeat that?”
“Get a hemoglobin on him.” You mask your fluster, forgetting the nurse standing next to you for a second. “Also, did anyone call for the physician?”
More orders and yelling ensues the next few minutes from you then by Dr. Abel a.k.a Dr. Spartan-from-Hell once he enters the room and gets filled in on the situation.
“Someone get him to radiology and contact surgery after!”
“D-did you actually check his vitals to deem him stable enough to-”
“Do you think I’d say that when he’s not?!”
In Dr. Abel, we trust-! You mentally cheer him on while on the phone with the surgical team after you were told none of the RNs knew how to get in touch with them. Like come on, let’s get it together people. Over half have worked here for over five years, many more in terms of having experience, so let’s not act like it’s everyone’s first night working in a hospital-!
Everything repeats once the other victims in the shooting incident Tim was involved in come in at the same time, throwing the ER into an uproar. More yelling, more incident reports submitted, at one point you had to call security to escort another new resident for raging in the lobby after dismissing him too.
In between juggling that and multiple patients including one that ended up calling for a massive transfusion for actively bleeding, you keep track on Tim’s chart. CT, duplex ultrasonography - that lucky S.O.- duck. You mean lucky duck. From the scans, his artery was nicked and not full out damaged by the bullet. And by the looks of it, he was fairly able to have the procedure start quicker than expected.
Soon enough the end of the night shift hits, day shift trudging in to take over.
“Woah, you alive?” Curly ginger with dark freckles and turquoise eyes, you look up from your seat and see Sally, the most senior and your closest fellow resident, stare down in worry.
“No.”
“Figures.” She makes a face when she reads over your shoulder the notes you add. “Heard it was bad on the news, didn’t think it could possibly get worse. You’re heading out now?”
“Can’t.” You cover a yawn with a hand, stretching an arm up towards the ceiling. “It slipped my mind that I picked up a twelve-hour shift up on ICU after this one.”
More like you offering the last second, pulling strings here and there after finding out which floor Tim was getting admitted for recovery once his surgery was over. If anything, you’re going to make sure history doesn’t repeat itself and stop him going AMA the hundredth time so he could recover properly for once.
“You know, I already thought you were insane for choosing EM/IM here of all places. Now, I’m wondering if we should just admit you to the psyche ward.”
“Excuse you? I think you’re the last person to tell me-“
Suddenly your phone starts vibrating. Specifically your personal phone.
She smiles in understanding when you apologetically glance at her and places a paper bag and a go-to cup down in front of you. She waves and you wave back as she makes her way towards the hall she’s assigned to.
Sweet, ol` Sally. To think she’d get you breakfast and coffee, the scent of sweet, savory, and caffeine coming from the bag and cup.
Taking note to get her something in return for the kind gesture, your smile transforms into a frown when you see the caller ID.
You don’t want to know how. You don’t want to know since when. But gosh darn it, Babs, did she really have to hack your phone so she could unblock herself?
“What?” You don’t hide your irritation, your voice curt and snappy.
“Well, good morning to you too, I guess. Listen. I get you’re still mad but-”
“If you’re going to talk about the whole cold war, now isn’t the time.” You press a finger against the skin between your eyebrows. “Tim got hit by a bullet last night and is fresh out of surgery and I’m about to head to his floor to monitor him.”
“What now-?”You don’t let her finish, hanging up without a second thought.
Placing your phone facing down on the desk, you put your face in your hands. A part of you does feel guilty, knowing that it was out of desperation to help relieve and resolve the tension between you and everyone else by going out her way to call at the usual time you get out when it’s too early on top of her sleep-deprived schedule.
Yet, did it really require crossing another line? What would’ve ended at one week got extended for this very reason (i.e., crossing a line, not hacking). They can say all they want about you not understanding them, completely valid. The same should be thought out the same for you, though. They’re vigilantes, you’re a soon-to-be-physician. And you’re so, so tired being the one to give in and wave the white flag. Whatever.
It doesn’t take long to tidy up everything, joining the next group going up the elevator in time.
By the time you reach ICU, you’re greeted by the scene of everyone already running around. Great.
Things get better when you head towards the desk and catch sight of a resident leaning against it and brooding, most likely waiting for you as you end up being assigned to take over his patients. He pushes himself up once you stand next time.
“Couldn’t you have gotten here faster? It’s been a shit-show for everyone on the floor!“
“Would you rather have worked in the ER then?”
“…Oh.”
Reports? Check. Phone? Check. Tablet? Check. Sucking in a deep breath, you approach and quietly slide open the door of the most prioritized patient currently.
The only sound in the dark room are the soft beeps coming from the monitor. The door closes without a thud and your steps are light and silent once you enter.
Chest gently rising up and down, it’s unfamiliar and surreal to see the sibling you lived and were raised with for the longest time sleeping almost peacefully instead of bustling around and busy solving crimes and mysteries. Even back before him becoming Robi
You wince, suddenly a stabbing pain rippling over your heart. Right, now isn’t the time to be like this.
Your hands go flying, multitasking everything like any other day, any other patient. Except it’s not and your mind is making sure to remind you it’s not.
Is he okay? Is he fine? There weren't any complications documented in his chart and report; should you double check just in case?
Anxiety racks your entire being, suffocating and pumping adrenaline and making your heart hurt more intensely. What makes checking him worse is your thoughts plaguing you that this would be how you will lose him. In this room, hospital, over something that might’ve not been noticed beforehand.
Double, triple, quadruple checking him, the weight and tension finally lifts off once it settles in that everything appears normal.
“Stupid idiot.” You sniffle softly, using the back of one hand to wipe the tears threatening to fall. “Why couldn’t you’ve been more careful?”
Walking towards the small desk next to the bed, you place the tablet down and log into the computer.
You hear shuffling coming from the opposite direction where you and Tim are only for you to not take mind and continue typing away progress notes into the latter’s chart.
“…How is he?”
The piece of mind you wanted to give him as soon as he asks that dies when you glance at him over your shoulder. The typically stoic, striking blue eyes sunken in and filled with fatigue and worry, the back that’s always held up straight hunched as if carrying the whole world on it. There are stubbles all over and his face is completely haggard. The man presently visiting and sitting on the visitor’s chair behind you isn’t Bruce Wayne, owner of Wayne Enterprise or Batman, Gotham’s protector and dark knight; he’s any other father full of distress and broken affection, here to make sure his son is safe and alive.
“He’s fine.” Tapping the period key, you click save then turn towards him. “Whether it’s from reflexes or whatever was going on, he somehow got the bullet to nick his artery rather than getting it fully blown out.”
“Hh.”
You puff air out your mouth, pushing your hair back. Of course he wouldn’t say anything else. Always bottling it up and trying to deal with it on his own. If only he’d use words to express his feelings, it’d help make life a bit easier for you and him. Actually, everyone should. Steph and Duke, not as much; they’re actually the better ones out of the rest. Jason. Tim. Dick.
You glance at him again and sigh. It’s not maybe or perhaps. He’s definitely going to crash out. Ninety nine point nine nine nine percent positive burn himself out over this knowing for him to have treated your older sibling in-time to prevent blood-loss, he would’ve been close or at the time of the scene. Someone should probably stop him- is probably what everyone would say. And guess who’s first in line and conveniently there to start that process.
“The bandage on Tim’s neck,” you nod at the aforementioned male, “plan on selling it on the market for first responders?”
That seems to do the trick in pulling the older man back to reality, the grip on the bouquet of flowers he brought with him loosening.
“Not the exact one. A prototype is being made and tested that’s more suitable for them and the field.”
“Nice. Honestly, can’t wait to see it enter and get used in hospitals with how effective it is and practically saved Tim’s life. ”
“…Yeah?”
“...Yeah.”
It’s the tiniest of the tiniest smirk known to mankind. Well, to you at least. But, hey. A win is a win and you’ll take it, flashing a smile of your own in return while mentally fist bumping yourself at the success.
Silence, then, settles between the two of you, mindlessly watching the other male’s resting state.
“...Thank you. And…I’m sorry.”
You’re quick to hold a hand towards him. It hasn’t been a full minute since pulling him out of his self-dug pit; you are not going to let him jump back into it.
“We can talk about it when I get home,” you stretch an arm out and shake the mouse to check the time, “two days, ten hours, and forty-two minutes from now.”
He blinks. Opens his mouth. Close it. Rubs a hand over his face. Wow, to think you’d do the impossible twice: one, preventing him putting himself on fire, and now two, making him speechless. Where’s Alfred, he would’ve been so proud.
Two hours pass after he tells you he’s going to stay and watch in which you decide to take that as an opportunity to check on the other patients. Maybe Lady Gotham did feel bad about your night, all the patients you’re assigned miraculously stable leading you to go back to the room sooner than expected.
“Done?” He gets up and straightens his jacket.
“Yeah. You’ll get rest as soon as you get back?”
“I-” He pauses and clears his throat when you raise an eyebrow. “I’ll do just that before continuing working on the case from last night.”
“Great. I’ll check in with Alfred during break to make sure you did.”
He heaves a sigh, fully aware you meant and will do it.
“Make sure you go one, a proper one if you’re going to do so.”
You huff. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. However, it comforts you seeing the light and warmth return in him as you watch him leave through the exit.
Closing the door back, you walk towards the bed.
“So, how did the talk go?”
“You knew?” Slowly, his eyelids flutter and reveal pale, skyblue irises.
“Please. Unless you lost that much blood, I’m sure you’re able to remember how long we’ve known each other.”
Bleary and sluggish, he looks up at you then down to his arm with the IV stuck in it.
“...Sorry.” He mutters weakly, hanging his head low.
You can feel your blood pressure rising. Stress. Struh-eh-esss. First, Bruce. Now, him. Do they think you’re heartless? Unable to realize how all your focus is making sure someone you consider and care as a family stays alive and heals completely?
“That’s not really answering my question.” You sit down on the spinning chair and open the screen of your tablet.
“Oh, uh, it wasn’t much.” He wet his lips, his words coming out slightly slurred. “Asked how I was feeling, traded information and discussed what else was needed. That was only a small part; most of it was him telling me to focus on getting better.”
“As he should.” You leave out the part about what you would do had he not or said anything else.
He starts fiddling with the blanket covering him between his fingers.
“Are…you still mad?” He winces, the question sounding more pathetic than intended.
Oof. Ouch. That, that one is fair and now you feel kind of guilty.
The worst part is you can’t deny that you are. You can lie. The catch? He’ll know right away and it’ll make his condition worse. Same thing if you were to tell him that you are. Fuck.
“If you don’t stay and leave before you’re in the clear, I might as well be mad forever.”
Thankfully he doesn’t prod into it more, attempting to nod only for his face to scrunch up at the pain shooting through him. Carefully and quickly, you get up to help him shift into a more comfortable position and pull the blanket up all while minding his injury.
“Thanks. For everything.”
You’re about to move your hand away when he rests his over yours, a tired yet gentle smile on his lips.
“Always.” You take a gulp of air, hoping it would stop the water works from starting. “I’ll always, for you and everyone else in the family.”
Summary: It’s always great to work at Gotham Hospital. People higher than the Empire State Building in the building next door, guys involved in territory fights upstairs in ICU. Don’t forget the kids that go around throwing whatever they can get their hands on in Peds. Add to the fact you’re the child of the famous vigilante, there isn’t a single day that passes as boring. Perfect way to spend your time, right?
Next -> here
Another shard of glass shatters on the wooden floor.
Everyone on the other side of the room flinched . You close your eyes and inhale sharply.
It would’ve been funny if you had broken your own window. Recreate that one scene by pinning the blame onto someone else while laughing at your handy work. Too bad for you, Gotham’s a bitxh. High taxes and everything so damn expensive, your salary as a night-shift resident barely keeps you afloat.
You can accept the allowance money your daddy-dearest sends into your bank account. If not for the argument you had when you decided you were going to live outside of the mansion without anyone spying or breaking in.
So what if you’re not a vigilante like the rest of the family? You’re an adult! And it’s not as if you’re not aware they place trackers and defense mechanisms on you. They’ll probably set up the best security system at the next place you end up moving to regardless of what you say anyways.
The world’s best detective? The world’s finest? More like the world’s most stubborn man and helicopter dad. The argument the two of you end up having was equivalent to Scheherazade’s 1001 Arabian nights, both sides unwilling to budge. It’s after you agreed to having wellness checks by whomever is available you were given the clear. A decision you continually regret during the past three years you’ve lived alone once said wellness checks become an every other day patient-doctor visit.
“Listen. I’m not asking what, how, or why.” You start out slowly, two fingers rubbing your temples. “All I want to know is who. Did. It.”
“I mean, it’s not that bad. You still have-“
“Steph-“ You try warning the blonde.
“-half of your window intact.” Cue said remaining half of your window falling from the sill to the floor.
Steph offers an awkward smile. You respond by pinching your nose bridge.
“At least it’s just the window…?”
“This is the third time.” You groan, pinching harder, a dull pain pulsing at the back of your head. “The third time this month with a broken window.”
“…It was Jason, if it makes you feel better.”
“Excuse you?” Jason leans forward from the couch, an offended expression on his face as he looks at Dick who points at him. “You’re the one that cracked it first!”
“You’re the one that actually kicked it!”
“…The window was still intact after Dick kicked it.” Tim grumbles, leading Jason to shift his glare towards him.
Instantly, the room is thrown into chaos. Fingers are being pointed, “he did”, “she did”, “you were”, tossed here and there.
“Enough!” Quickly, it goes back to being quiet. “I don’t have a window and I’m pretty sure my neighbors can clearly hear our conversation. So-“
Suddenly, you can hear knocks coming from your unit’s front door.
…There’s no way. There’s no way, right? He couldn’t possibly have found out this soon.
You slowly turn towards the door then back at them. The group in front of you doesn’t fare any better, pale faces, some whistling, others twiddling their thumbs while avoiding all eye contact. You groan and rub your face with both hands. Well, fuck. You don’t want to deal with this; you don’t have the courage to face him. You’re not the Man of Steel, most definitely Champion of the Gods-!
You look towards the door and make a face. Then, slowly, you drag your feet across the floor and head towards the entrance. Squeezing your eyes shut for a second, a tiny sob leaves your mouth as you take time in unlocking the latch.
“Your window broke?” Towering over you with an impressive height for his age, pit-black hair and sharp, blue-eyes, Bruce Wayne, a.k.a. Batman, a.k.a owner of Wayne Enterprise a.k.a. your father stands on the other side.
“I mean, more or less.” You grumble, staring down and finding the carpet far more interesting.
“More like not having a window at all.”
…Of course, he didn’t come alone.
Standing right next to him, Damian smugly smirks with “I told you” written all over his face.
Sibling-wise, that little traitor was the one that objected the most about you leaving the Manor. You being a civilian and not knowing proper self-defense, the typical spiel. You gave him a pass for it, initially, considering the two of you were close for half-siblings. Then he ratted you out about you moving into downtown Gotham. Which, to your defense, the apartment you’re currently living in was closer to commute from and to the hospital (you were not about to go back and forth, an hour each, via buses and subway).
“It’s not the first time my window broke-“
“Joker and Bane broke free from Arkham.”
Well. Crap.
“As for the rest of you,” you can hear someone curse behind you, most likely Jason, “you’re going to help with packing and moving.”
That’s how you find yourself standing at the doors to Wayne’s mansion the next day, a box in your hand as a breeze ruffles your hair .
“Think of it this way: you won’t have to worry about paying rent! How great is that?”
Dick clears his throat when you don’t reply, not even bothering to keep the door open for him once you enter the mansion.
“Welcome back.” Alfred greets you, formal yet warmly just like he did in the past the second your foot stepped on the floor of the entrance lobby.
“Yeah, I’m back.” You’re back indeed. To everything that led you to leave in the first place.
Summary: In the friend group, there’s usually the crazy, the brain, and the brawn. The only one that tends to be missing is the straight-man but not to worry. Luckily for them, unluckily for you, you play that role quite well. And that’s with you juggling three jobs in twenty-four hours, seven days a week.
Humans are born to regret. Desire the power to turn back time.
For some, it may be from a bad investment of stocks. For others, taking a risky gamble only to land with no luck. Yours? Not calling in when you could at five in the morning.
“Three iced and one hot Americano, one apple pie, and one banana pudding all for here?”
Sure, okay. You always complained you didn’t want to go to work every day. But today was different. You had an urge. A premonition. If only you had listened to it this one time and not care about keeping your “golden star employee” reputation-
“Oh, come on. Aren’t you being cold? We’re only trying to cheer you on-“
“You can pick up your order at the counter at the end when your number is called and your buzzer vibrates. Here is your buzzer, which you can see on top your group is number 69, and enjoy your stay. Next!”
You didn’t need to look up to know that he’s smirking behind those orange-tinted glasses while the snort belongs to the just-as-gaudy one in the mask and bucket hat.
…At least the other two are quiet.
The whole day it was more than three times you wanted to pull your hair out, rest your head against a wall, dig a hole and lay in it. You planned everything: timing, routes they would least likely take, location. Even if they were to find one of your jobs, they wouldn’t have been able to find out about all three. All. Three! In a span of twelve days!
The barbecue place you’ll give considering how they’re connoisseurs over their meat and the place you happened to work is one of the best in the local area. The other two though? The fact you saw Wooin, standing in line in a convenience store at seven AM had given you the biggest shock and you had to ask if he didn’t need to go to the hospital once you rang him up. Seems like he didn’t appreciate your concern, terrorizing you by continuing to make you ring him up along with Joker until the end of your shift.
That was four days ago and now, four days later after that incident, here they are, all four, Vinny, Hyuk, Joker, and Wooin, sitting in the cafe while watching you work.
All you want is to work in peace, get your money without any more stress. Was it really too much to ask?
Why the-Oh hell, no. Oh. Hell. No.
As if to stay true to today’s theme of four-four-four i.e., death and great misfortune, you watch in slow motion Hyuk pulling the chair from the table, not diagonally across or distance away, but directly, gobsmack center. Right. In. Front. Of. You.
It starts with denial. Then anguish. Then-Screw it. You’re not getting paid enough to deal with this.
“Hey, change with me.”
“Huh? I’m not close to done with that drink-?!”
More like not finished making a mess. Every type of milk carton lies open on the counter, puddles of coffee spilling and creating new puddles on to the floor with one haphazardly covered by the towel meant for wiping the steam wand.
It’s okay. It’s fine. It’s better than having to see their faces.
“...Fuc-Fudge. Fudge it all.” You heavily sigh.
Shoving the pang of another regret made aside, your seasoned hands get to work.
Five minutes, ten. An hour passes and the peak should’ve passed by now but you find yourself constantly bouncing back and forth all because of a certain group.
“Three medium cappuccinos, one being coconut milk, with a slice of strawberry shortcake and vanilla crepe cake!”
“One hot chocolate, iced, small and two large banana milk lattes!”
Your co-workers shuffle away, giving you side glances when you tear the peel off the bananas and chuck it into the blender.
Your patience is waning, none of this is entertaining. You’re supposed to be hiding, showing a glimpse of yourself when necessary. Instead, for the longest time, your phone wouldn’t stop vibrating against your leg, spam of texts constantly flooding in through messages. The first few, you checked thinking it’s one of the bosses from your other jobs. One screenshot with bolded letters of the word “blocked” later, your phone finally stays silent.
Except, that wasn’t the end. To whomever posted that team Sabbath was hanging at the cafe today, please eternally stub thine toe into the door because it’s either you or the fan girls occupying both ends of the counter.
You swear the ordering side had it better, them simply having to receive orders and the whatnot. Then there’s the pick-up area…
“There’s chocolate in my drink.”
“That’s part of the mocha.”
“Well, I ordered a caramel mocha.”
“Yes and a caramel mocha consists of coffee, milk, caramel, and chocolate as stated on the menu.”
You can hear them snicker non-stop in the midst of you talking to the hundredth Karen you’ve dealt so far. The polite expression threatening to break, the supposing bland and monotone voice cracking a few times. Unable to snap at them to quit watching, you quickly shoot a glare and mouth some choice words after catching Joker tilting his head up to get a better view of the scene when the girl glances down at her phone.
Another repeat on how it’s against the law and cafe policy to take photos of other customers without their consent and deleting said secretly taken photos later (seriously, how dumb can a person get to show their gallery right in front of you), you quickly assemble and place the next order.
“Number 127!”
Familiar large, pale hands grab the tray. And that’s all it takes for your hands to clamp down and hold him in place.
“Stop. Make them. Stop.” The brightest smile you can muster, there’s irritation and venom in the hiss you utter under your breath.
“...Does it look like I can?”
Does it look like you have a choice???
You hold back the urge to yell and shake the red-head in front of you, get him to realize how desperate you are without risking your job-!
“I don’t care. Get them to stop. Even better, leave.”
“That’s impossible-” He pauses midway when he notices your expression.
Wide eyes, pursed lips, is your kicked-puppy cute? More like resembling an eye-twitching Chihuahua. But it sure is filled with complete desperation and begging, your pride tossed out the window while you maintain it.
A second passes. Two.
“Fine.” He finally grits out, eyes squeezed shut and biting his lips.
Instantly the smile is back, this time more genuine.
“Tsk.”
“What now-“ Not letting you finish your sentence and he’s already back at the table.
…Was the face you made really that bad?
“Maybe he’s sick.” You grumble, noticing the back of his neck completely flushed.
Seriously, men and their attempts at aloofness. Shaking your head, you mentally note to stop by the pharmacy and go back into finishing the rest of the orders.
Some time passes and Vinny must’ve successfully gotten them to leave when you no longer sense them sitting in front of the counter (yes, sense, to much of your despair, considering how long you’ve known them and dealt with their antics).
Starting then, life feels okay and tolerable once again.
Work ends and, contrary to your expectation that they’d be waiting for you, there’s no sign of them.
Is this it? Did the goddess Nike decide to hear your plight and show mercy? Are you finally free-?
For extra measure, you head towards the barbecue place taking the long, yet more unknown, way. Left, right, a couple times you check behind the dumpsters but nope. Not there, not here.
“Hehehe.” You can’t believe this. It’s really happening. They’re leaving you alone!
Your steps light, you slip the key into the keyhole and enter through the employee entrance. Repetitive motions of putting things away and pulling your head through the hole of the apron, you head towards the front where the manager is busy ringing up the bill for a customer.
“Oh, good. You’re he-” She raises an eyebrow. “Did you win the lottery or something?”
You touch your face. Oops. Seems you got too excited.
“Guess I enjoyed my walk to work.” You shrug, quickly schooling yourself back to your usual.
“I…see.” She clears her throat. “Well, be careful manning the right side tonight and let me know if you encounter any problems.”
Hm?
“What do you mean?”
“How to phrase it… an, ‘odd’ group asked specifically for your side-“
There’s no way.
“And waited for you to be their server-“
It can’t be.
“So, I’d thought I'd give you the heads up.”
You want to cry. You don’t have to turn around to know who she’s talking about. It didn’t last that long, all that hope and happiness you developed trashed and burned. You haven't started working yet-!!
Dammit all, she could’ve at least switched you out-actually, no. That would make things worse, knowing the possibilities and their capabilities to pull anything and everything. Ugh!
Without the energy to think of a reply, you slowly turn around and drag your feet across the floor towards the table.
The things you’d do to wipe that smirk off-! It’s already bad enough Wooin annoys you constantly on a daily basis, roping you in to hanging out with them, coming over to your place unannounced. What exactly did you do to deserve more torment from him?
No, no. Let’s not think too hard. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Remember, it’s for the money. The. Money.
“Do you need more time to order, then?”
“I want Pocari.”
And you want to smack that black mask off with the notepad. What does he- is he really thinking this place is an extension to your place? He’s been here before! He knows this place doesn’t sell Pocari! Also who wears a mask inside a restaurant? Or polaroid sunglasses for that matter?
You cover your face with the notepad for a moment then pull it back down.
“We don’t serve Pocari but we do have soda, tea, or water.”
“No beer? Soju?”
The grip on the pen tightens, tighter when Wooin snorts most likely from seeing you resort to biting down on your lips.
“Would that be all you’re getting?”
“Do you guys have hanwoo*?”
Finally, a legitimate question. Thank Joker and his infatuation for meat.
“Yes, we do. You can order that on its own though I recommend ordering the premium combo for a bigger variety and better price.”
“Then we’ll get-“
“Hold on. I’m the one that’s paying. Why are you calling the shots?“
In no time, Wooin’s going at it to both Joker and Hyuk like usual, the latter brought in after he chimes in on wanting the same thing.
Your soulless eyes lock in equally soulless heterochromatic ones, the sense of comradery and being done on having to deal with this every day resonating between you two.
“…Know what you want?”
“…I’ll…just have water.”
Nodding, the notepad ends up with nothing written on it when you turn around and head to the back.
It doesn’t take long for you to return with cups and a pitcher of iced barley tea per usual for all customers.
So yes, it’s completely on purpose you don’t let your presence known, slipping both onto the table as you hear and see no signs of Wooin’s irritation stopping any time soon.
Scribbles fill your notepad after heading towards the other tables and getting their orders and it isn’t until you finish delivering their drinks you go back to where your self-proclaimed “friends” are sitting.
“Where did you go?”
Doing your job? What does he mean where did you go? Did he really think you were going to stand all day and wait until he stopped?
“You were busy having a conversation over what to order.” You shrug. “I thought I’d buy you some time by taking care of the other groups sitting in the area.”
“You.” Some would think his eyes couldn’t get anymore snake-like only for them to do so as he scowls and narrows them into slits. “You didn’t just call me a yapper.”
“Did you decide on your order then?”
Call you petty, you don’t care. A win is a win and you’ll take it, satisfaction washing over you when you hear Wooin clicking his tongue as the trio, watching on the sidelines, try not to laugh.
Then he smirks. An evil one.
“Hey, can we get more water?”
“Actually, a bottle of soju?”
“I want an extra serving of this.”
You lost track how many times you’ve gone back and forth towards their table, in particular for the tattooed male. One time he’ll want something, then he won’t, then want it again.
Don’t get you started with the others. Rather than helping you out, they added more coal to the fire. Vinny, not so much, doing more as-needed basis. Hyuk and Joker? …Let’s not think about them.
Legs burning, arms sore from all the walking and carrying dishes. Can’t they see they’re not the only ones you’re taking care of-?!
“Ack-!” Miraculously and out of pure adrenaline, you rebalance yourself on time before the dishes on your tray shift and fall to the floor.
Readjusting your grip, you let out a sigh of relief and go back to carrying the food. Or, that was the plan.
“Hey! Watch it! You could’ve spilled that food on me!”
Great. Now you’re having to deal with Kevins. Like you didn’t have enough dealing with their female counterparts.
“So, sorry. Did any get on you?” The hand holding the tray trembles from the weight meant to be supported by two while the other pulls napkins from your apron and holds out to the offended party.
“Are you kidding me right now? I’m a customer and you’re only offering me napkins? What kind of shitty service is this?” Your hand gets slapped, the napkins falling to the ground. “You ruin my shoes, nearly get raw meat on me-!”
Your day can really get worse, huh. First the cafe, now here. Should you call in for your morning shift so it won’t become three out of three?
You wince at the pounding in the back of your head, your vision blurring leading you to squeeze your eyes close.
“Call your manager, right now! I want compensation and you fired for-Uh, who are you?”
Cue you turning around, the weight on your one hand suddenly disappearing the same time the guy yelling at you asks that.
“What’s it to you? Got a problem?” Behind and towering both you and the guy sitting, annoyance leaks out of Vinny as he scowls.
Whether it’s from recognizing him or the ominous glow emanating from his eyes as his scowls deepens at the lack of response stays up for debate as the guy starts to quickly shake his head.
“Then quit holding the waiter up so the rest of us can get our food.”
…Wow. If he hadn’t taken the tray and left you in the dust your heart would’ve skipped a beat like the girls squealing over in the corner.
A beat of silence is shared between you and the other. You go back to offer another apology and amends, more out of fear he’d start things again only for him to shoo you. Er, rather, “screw off”. Same thing.
Shuffling between tables, the gratitude and other touching emotions are tossed to the side and irk replaces them.
Let it be known, trays are meant to hold and transport food. Not for food to be eaten off of them or treated like a placemat like a certain group is doing.
Speaking of which, you really, genuinely don’t want to know when and how they were able to start up the grill. A grill that requires a wand lighter which is in your apron and most definitely wasn’t on any of them.
Another round of one-sided teasing/bickering goes on between Wooin and Vinny, them alternating in flipping the meat while Hyuk and Joker busies themselves on the side in stuffing their mouth with it.
“Hm? I don’t think any of us called for you?”
Ah, stress. S-t-r-e-s-s.
“I’m here for the tray and to check if anyone needs anything else.” You manage to grit out, swallowing the words you wanted to hurl.
“Oh. In that case,” he waves the tongs in the direction of the table you had a moment with, “give me that guy’s check when he leaves.”
Say what now? He can’t be serious.
His eyebrow raises.
“...Sure.” Like hell you are.
Famous last words. Your co-worker must’ve gotten the checks for them in the midst of you being pulled in all directions and busy serving when you peek over your shoulder and catch Sabbath leaving through the exit while the other guy’s table is in the process of cleaning.
This can’t be simply for damage control. Is it? Maybe it is since they are somewhat famous and none of the others questioned or said anything against it.
Never mind, it’s better to leave it or else you’re going to get a bigger headache.
Thankfully, nothing happens and service ends smoothly. Two large take-out boxes are in your hand once you step out, one from your manager, who gives you an ear full about not calling for her and trying to deal with the situation on your own before handing it to you. The other, you ordered and paid.
“Here.” You wonder if they have life outside of LOS, having found and confirming your suspicions that they were waiting for you again, this time loitering a few steps away from the door.
You roll your eyes, exasperated by the blank looks given flickering between the box and you.
“It’s a thank you for earlier.”
“You know how to say thank you?” It’s amazing you’re able to hear the sarcasm so clearly when Hyuk’s mask is one of those thick, solid cloth ones and not the flimsy, disposable kind.
“For once in your life, would you-” You pause. A strange sound comes seemingly further away in the alley you and everyone else stand, similar to a groan. A human groan. “Uh, what was that?”
“What was what? Don’t tell me you’re hearing things now.” Wrapping an arm around your shoulder, Wooin turns you around and leads you out to the streets. “If you’re going to lose it, lose it at your place at least.”
“...Excuse you?”
The walk back was not quiet to say the least, you releasing all the pent up rage and giving them a piece of the mind that’s been held back that past twelve plus hours up and it isn’t until you got them to swear they wouldn’t terrorize you like they had today that you let up. Next morning comes and you didn’t appreciate seeing the first customer being a familiar black-haired male, approaching the cashier counter with a banana and banana milk in hand.
*hanwoo - quality of Korean beef similar to that of wagyu
