Everyone assumes Clark is the one who’s best with kids until they actually see him and Bruce dealing with children on missions.
Clark’s not bad at it or anything but he’s a little awkward and flustered in a way kids pick up on. At least happy kids are okay and he handles the ones who love Superman well but when they’re upset he panics a little and it turns stilted quickly.
The League thinks it’s hilarious.
Then Clark starts passing kids over to Bruce and he’s holding them and bouncing them and cooing at them and everyone is shocked. It’s like the bat does have a superpower, hand him a crying baby and two minutes later it’ll be sleeping on his chest, full armour and all.
Turns out Batman can comfort any child instantly while Superman is awkwardly holding babies away from his body and begging them to stop crying until he can shove them into Bruce’s arms.
The comedic potential of Bruce being a college drop out and Damian having his med degree is endless. Can you imagine how many situations Damian can smugly go "one of us has the medical degree Baba, and it sure isn't you"
Jason Todd doesn’t realize that he’s basically the only person you give any semblance of warmth to. It’s not until he shows up at your place of work, a small but busy restaurant, to surprise you that he sees your demeanour around others.
Jason Todd who watches you brush off any attempt at conversation from your coworkers with silence or a quiet (and unimpressed) chuckle.
Jason Todd who starts watching you from the rooftops day after day, perplexed by how disengaged you are when he isn’t around you.
Jason Todd who is bewildered by the way your face lights up as soon as he comes into your field of vision, scowl melting into a smile so warm it could melt icecaps. He tries to hide his disbelief when he shows up to walk you home and you say “Jason! Hi, baby.” in your brightest tone of voice.
Jason Todd who keeps testing your attitude, first by pushing your buttons. He goes out of his way to annoy you in small ways, pretending to forget stories he’s already told you just so that he can tell you again. He braces himself for you to give him the snark you give to others, but doesn’t understand why he’s met with nothing but soft patience. Next, he brings you around others, brings you to the manor and pretends to leave the room, tells Dick to try to strike up a conversation with you while he hides within earshot. You barely speak two words to Dick, who might as well be an award winning chatterbox.
Jason Todd who can’t help but grin to himself when you brush off his brother’s charms.
Jason Todd who finally has to ask you what’s up with your behaviour, he just doesn’t understand it. “Can I ask you something, ma?” He tries to keep his tone casual as you two walk around the courtyard of the manor.
“Yes, love?” You respond sweetly.
“How come you’re so nice to me and so…different with everyone else?” He doesn’t want to offend you, he chooses his verbiage very carefully.
“Because you’re the only person who makes me feel like myself. You’re the only person who’s real with me.”
Jason Todd who suddenly feels special, chosen. Like when a cat chooses to lie on your lap and sleep there, so you do your best to stay still, not wanting to disturb it.
Jason Todd who pulls you in closer and says “That’s my girl.” Before pulling you into a kiss.
A/N: he is soooo flattered that you’re only this nice to him, makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. He starts moving like he’s the chosen one
"Would you still love me if I was a worm?" to the Titans
Dick Grayson
"Hey Babe" you started "Would you still love me if i was a worm?"
Dick froze,
Mid-step. One foot hovering over the bedroom carpet like his brain had just blue-screened.
He blinked. Once. Twice.
"…A worm?" he repeated, voice flat with utter disbelief. For a solid three seconds, Dick Grayson stood there holding you… and processing worm logistics.
Then, he burst out laughing, shaking him from shoulders to toes, making your body jostle in his arms as laughter ripped through him uncontrollably.
When it finally subsided enough for him to speak, he pressed a kiss right on your nose and said:
"Babe… I would absolutely build you a tiny little dirt palace and bring worms food every day."
"What is worm food?" you started, a little charmed.
"Worm food?" he mused aloud. "I mean… probably dirt. Leaves? Rotten stuff? Like… compost vibes."
He paused, then added with full sincerity
"I’d grow lettuce for you. Tiny worm salads every day."
Another giggle escaped him, he couldn’t help it, and he nuzzled your forehead.
But then his voice dropped into that soft tone that made your heart swell no matter what ridiculous thing came out of his mouth
"And I’d still kiss you on your little worm face."
"Really?" you crinkled your nose, making a face "Okay fine, you're the best boyfriend ever. Even if kissing a worm is weird"
Dick’s chest puffed up instantly, like a peacock spotting sunlight.
"Hey," he said, finally setting you down on your feet, "kissing a worm wouldn’t be weird. It’d be romantic. I’d do it with jazz music in the background."
He was dead serious. Or… mostly dead serious. The corners of his eyes were crinkling with barely-contained laughter.
Then he cupped your face and kissed you again. When he pulled back, that stupidly perfect smile was there, the one that always looked like sunshine had personally blessed him today.
"And yeah," he whispered proudly. "I'm definitely the best boyfriend ever."
"Ego ego" you chided.
Wally West
"Baby" you said, seriously "I've got a very important question. It determines everything"
Wally froze mid-bounce, his grin flickering like a lightbulb about to short-circuit. He slowly lowered the bag of chips, eyes widening with sudden seriousness.
"Uh-oh," he whispered dramatically, voice dropping an octave.
"Okay," he said softly. "Ask me anything."
"Would you still love me if I was a worm?" you asked, seriously.
Wally blinked.
Then his entire face exploded into a grin so wide it looked like it might split his cheeks. The tension snapped like a rubber band, and he practically vibrated on the spot (not from speed this time!) from pure joyful disbelief.
"Pffft—baby!" He threw his arms around you in a sudden tackle-hug, spinning you once before plopping back down on the couch with you in his lap. "A worm? Like… tiny? Squishy? With a little wiggly butt?"
He cupped your face with both hands, green eyes sparkling mischievously.
"First of all—yes," he declared without hesitation. "Absolutely. I’d build you a tiny castle out of LEGOs and feed you fruit slices every morning."
He kissed your forehead dramatically.
"And second, I’d still call our relationship 'the cutest wormance ever' and brag about it to Barry."
"Really?" you asked hopefully
Wally’s heart melted at the idea. He nodded fast, so enthusiastically his ginger hair flopped into his eyes. He didn’t even bother pushing it back.
"Cross my heart," he said, dragging a finger across his chest with cartoonish solemnity. "Hope to die! which I won't, because Speed Force aura and all that—but still! I mean it."
He pressed both hands over yours like he was making an oath on sacred ground.
"If you turned into a worm? Best day ever. We’d have matching outfits! Tiny little sweaters made from thread."
Then he gasped dramatically "I could carry you around in my pocket!"
Donna Troy
You were sitting on Donna's lap while she combed through your hair with her fingers. You turned around and looked up at her "Darling, would you still love me if I was a worm?"
Donna softened, her fingers still tangled in your soft hair. The question hung in the air. She thought it was a little silly and absurd, but if this is what you were insecure about, then she was willing to give you some peace of mind.
She studied your face, and then exhaled a small laugh that carried warmth.
Without missing a beat, she cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead, murmuring
"Of course I would. You could be a worm crawling through dirt for all eternity… and I’d still love you."
A pause. Then with playful seriousness
"…Though if you did turn into a worm? We’re moving to somewhere warm. Worms need humidity."
"You're serious?" You pressed
Donna’s expression softened, softer than the moonrise over Themyscira.
She lifted your chin gently with two fingers, her blue eyes shimmering with absolute certainty.
"Sunshine," she said with her voice low and steady like a vow sworn on an altar. "I fell in love with you—not your shape, not your strength or speed or how you glow when you're happy. I fell in love with the way you sigh when it rains… how you hum off-key while cooking… that little frown between your eyebrows when Dick says something dumb."
A small smile touched her lips.
"If one day magic turned my sunbeam into a tiny wriggly creature? I’d build it a garden. Feed it organic dirt every morning. Talk to it all day."
Her thumb brushed your cheekbone.
"And yes, I'd still kiss its little head goodnight."
Okay. Yeah. You were content.
Kori Anders
"Star, I've got a serious question" you pouted.
Kory nuzzled her nose into the crook of your neck, warm and sleepy, but instantly alert at the tone. She tightened her hug protectively.
“Mm? What is it, my love?”
Her voice was soft green morning light, she was gentle but fully awake now. One hand slid up to brush a thumb over your cheekbone.
"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"
Kori took a second to process, then she burst into joyful giggles. The sound that bounced off the kitchen tiles like sunshine.
"Pfft—a worm?"
She spun you around and kissed your forehead, eyes crinkled with mirth.
"Why Of course I would! You’d be the cutest little worm in all of Tamaran. I’d build you a tiny castle and feed you crumbs of love."
A pause.
"…But only if you were my worm."
"I'd be your worm" you agreed happily
Kory beamed and lit up. She scooped you into a spinning hug, delighted by the commitment.
"Mine! My tiny earthling worm! So brave and squishy!"
She kissed both cheeks rapidly, mwah mwah mwah, then rested your foreheads together.
"I’d carry you in my pocket. Protect you from birds. Share my breakfast pancakes with you… "
Her voice dropped to a sweet whisper:
"You’d still be perfect."
"I'm always perfect"
"Stop that!" she huffed
A/n: I know this isn't the complete list of Titans. I got lazy. Sue me.
Headcannon that Bruce dedicates a little area on a wall in the manor to hanging photos of all his kids and their achievements- except, just like an overachiever new mom who insists she’ll make a detailed scrap book for each kid- he looses momentum after the first kid or two.
Which means there’s a huge section dedicated to Dick and all his minor accomplishments over the years, followed by one or two photos of Jason, followed by two large blank spaces on the wall (Tim and Cass)
He doesn’t let Alfred finish hanging things because he SWEARS he will get around to it. And maybe he will. Eventually…
But in the meantime it’s stuck looking like he has clear favorites, especially since Damian gets into the habit of hanging up pictures of himself on the other end of the wall (he cannot allow the non-blood children of Bruce Wayne to surpass him in recognition in his own home)
Tim doesn’t really notice since his own home didn’t have too many pictures of him. Cass doesn’t mind since she doesn’t always like seeing her own likeness. Jason thinks it’s hilarious to bitch about every time he sees it, claiming that Bruce didn’t even care enough after he’d died to at least hang up an updated school photo for him.
And of course everyone loves to tease Dick over it, given just how many photos and newspaper clippings adorn his section of the wall. Not that Dick is ever affected by any of their teasing- after all, who wouldn’t want their old school photos displayed proudly on the walls?? He doesn’t understand the embarrassment
After the whole joker junior thing Tim has the smile scars on his face but they’re keloid scars so they’re puffy and red and so so fucking noticeable. They’re the first thing anyone notices about him and it hurts and itches and some nights he just sits there frantically clawing at them to get them off nails catching on the raised tissue until he’s sedated.
When Jason comes back he finds him in titan’s tower but the sight of the red scars through as him into a flash back and all of the sudden he’s back in that warehouse with the joker and he’s fighting for his life except this time he’s winning and he’s finally gonna kill that son of a bitch until he’s not. Until he’s standing over the broken body of a boy. Until he looks at the blood coating his hands and he’s hyperventilating and he can’t see Tim’s chest rise and fall panic clouding his gaze because oh god he just put another bird in the ground. The red hood just killed another robin.
When Damian first sees him he is terrified. The scars meant he fought a brutal battle. The scars meant he faced enemies with no mercy. The scars meant he lived to tell the tale. And he was meant to kill him? To take his place? To be better? Better than the boy who bested his father’s worst enemy, who killed Jason. He had to aim to kill. He had to outsmart him undermine him before he became nothing but another battle scar that littered his skin, raised and ugly.
Bruce can’t look at the scars, can’t look him in the eye. Too overwhelmed by guilt and only able to the monster that carved them into his face and not the boy underneath.
Oh that got a lot darker than I meant it to sorry guys. Anyway the scars are genetic he gets them from his mom’s side of the family.
༘₊⊹ contains. sfw, hurt/comfort ⋮ catholic!jason art ↑ by @/lethologicaee has been on my mind so i babbled. ⌗mentions of jay’s death, torture, killings ⌗tried comic accuracy ⌗blasphemy(?) ⌗sacrìlegíous(?) ⌗yearning ⌗established relationship
religious!jason todd who, as a kid on the streets, held onto faith the way other kids held onto stuffed animals—tight, desperate, and believing it would keep him warm. and when bruce took him in, when he donned the robin suit, he still clung to the teachings of christ. he doubled down—telling himself that he was good enough, believing that he can embody the very essence of being a vigilante with righteousness.
religious!jason todd who prayed before patrols, gripping his green gloves like rosary beads before putting them on. whispering under his breath for strength, clarity, and power to do what robin needs to do. he believes in forgiveness, in mercy, because that's what good people do. that’s what christ did. and jason wanted so badly to be someone worth believing in.
religious!jason todd who prayed harder than he ever did before with a child's desperation in the warehouse where joker’s twisted games was claiming his life. when the crowbar came down, jason begged. when the bomb ticked, he begged. not for vengeance—but for rescue. for bruce, or god himself. screamed it inside his head, bargained with heaven—terrified not only of death but abandonment yet again.
when he realized he was left unanswered—something in him cracked, more fragile and foundational than bone. when the explosion came, his faith did not shatter that day. it simply…stopped. like a candle being snuffed out or a withering vine, and he died right alongside it.
religious!jason todd who resurrected and climbed out of his own grave with soil in his mouth, lungs burning, and a hole where his belief in goodness used to be. his heart, now filled with disappointment at being failed by his fathers.
religious!jason todd who trained over the years to become who he currently is. red hood. a different man now hardened and bitter. he tried to fill the void inside him with purpose. with changed beliefs. with blood.
whose crisis of faith became a crisis of identity.
he once believed that everyone deserved redemption. now he knows some people don't. that sometimes you have to be the sword instead of the shield, one person had to be willing to do the unthinkable. he kills so others won't die. he sins so others won't have to. protecting the innocent in ways batman never would. and every time he crosses another line with another death, he feels the ghost of that faithful boy still inside him staring in judgment.
religious!jason todd who met you on a night when he was fully prepared to die a second time and stay dead this time. battered and bleeding out in a grimy alleyway of gotham, vision swimming.
then you appeared, a mere civilian that knew nothing of the horrors he’d witnessed. not dramatic, not glowing—just steady, gentle, human. you touched him with careful hands and spoke to him like he wasn't a monster, fear swallowed for the sake of helping a stranger. like he wasn't some weapon walking around in a human shape. jason would later lie to himself, saying you were a coincidence. but in the moment he saw you, blurry and backlit by a streetlamp, he had a single thought; an angel came this time.
like something so pretty and soft—that he was afraid you might break if he so much as merely grazed you with his own calloused fingers that saw violence more than holding something precious.
religious!jason todd who has strained relationships and will always be reminded of the day he died—from dick, who tries too hard to fix things with optimism he can't stand. tim, the replacement who once carried the mantle he thinks should've stayed buried with him. damian, the son of his mentor in name and blood. someone so similar to him like magnets on the same pole. aligned with the same charge, intensity, and turmoil—so they repel even as they mirror one another. yet, damian was the living embodiment of everything jason had once wanted and never got from—bruce whom he admired and loathed with equal fire. the man whose silence and lack of action towards his killer hurt worse than the crowbar. the man who lives in the darkness, finds the helpless and brings them into the light, but couldn’t do it for him—because he didn’t know how.
he loved his family he really did, with grudging respect and recognition. but hated how complicated it was to navigate through them.
religious!jason todd who will always be emotionally stunted no matter what. he still clenches his jaw instead of confiding, still fights like he's trying to outrun hell, he still hasn’t thought of the lord, still keeps the batfamily at arm's length even when part of him wants to go home. but with you plaguing his mind after that night, all those edges soften, the armoured plated around his fractured heart shift just enough to let a little light in.
religious!jason todd who then wants to try to build something good with someone and keeps finding excuses to see you again. to make sure you’re staying out of trouble, always watching you in the shadows—protecting you. to have you check on more bruises that marred his body with that cute furrowed brow when you focused. to feel those soft hands on any inch of his skin again.
he tells himself it’s because you're useful or your apartment has good sightlines. which is half truthful because he finds himself slowly romancing you.
religious!jason todd who has no clue how to court anyone—not in a real, vulnerable way. gruff, overthinking every word he’d utter to you. but he tries.
he buys you flowers and then panics when he’s lingering at your doorway, throwing them away in the trash bin just outside your apartment and goes back home to sulk. so he mails them to you instead of hand delivering it until he gathers the courage again. he rehearses compliments and then stutters through them. he gets flustered when you smile so sweetly at him. especially the time when he took off his helmet in front of you for the first time—almost choked on his saliva when you called him handsome and didn’t recoil at the sight of his scars. his heart hammers in his chest like he's fifteen again, like he's robin perched on a rooftop, scared of disappointing the world. like his youth wasn’t stolen.
you make him feel worthy. and jason can't decide if he should be alarmed or happy
yet he keeps coming back anyway to find out.
religious!jason todd who falls in love slowly its almost painful, then all at once. with the person of unshakable compassion, who saw past the anger and the pain of the man he was—with patience and understanding. who loved him back not in spite of his flaws, but because of them. you challenge him but never belittle him. you don't try to fix him, you don’t ask questions that he doesn’t want to hear, you simply sit with him and help him pick up whatever pieces he's willing to show that needed help.
you don’t care about the potential danger he drags to your doorsteps, nor the risks that come with dating the red hood. all you see is a man who may not have always been honest with himself, but is willing to be honest with you. and that is more admirable than anything else.
you remind him of the good he used to believe in. and that's when he realizes he's in trouble—because loving you feels like believing in god again, and he isn't sure he's ready for that kind of miracle.
religious!jason todd who thinks of your home as his now that he spends so many nights there instead of his own apartment. he thinks of you as his safe space. who has your head resting on his chest as you sleep, listening to those soft breaths leave your lips he got the pleasure of kissing many times already. reminding him that you're alive, that you're here with him and he holds onto you tighter to his frame with those muscular arms like you'll disappear. whose heart is pounding so hard and loud under your ear that he’s sure you can hear it in your sleep.
religious!jason todd who does something in that tender moment he hasn't done since he was a boy—he prays. not for forgiveness. not for salvation or an apology. he didn’t beg anyone to keep you tethered to him. he didn’t want to jinx it. but with quiet, reverent gratitude, he whispered a thank you to whatever higher power—god, fate, the universe. to whomever made the mistake of giving him someone like you. someone who made him believe in hope again.
just in case anyone up there actually listens this time.
While the others in our system are working on more art to share soon, we have been debating and conversing some of blurbs/ideas of Lobo with a date. (that we have definitely been very normal about, very much so) Keep in mind, this is our personal headcannons, if it's not what you have in mind then cool beans 👍 alright, lets get this show on the road.
• He isn't much of a one for dates, nor is he much of a romantic type. The only kind of intimate stuff he's gotten into is just, y'know, hookups. It doesn't mean he has an idea of what it's like, he'd prefer to stray away from all that corny business n' such.
• If somehow you break through those protective barriers and snarky comebacks he installed initially when you rejected his advances (or rather, just one night stand oppertunities) he would be... confused? I mean, of course you'd want to be with the *Main Man*, but, the only other attempt he had at this gummy affair was when he was still running rounds of chaos in grade school.
• He wouldn't be much of a talker upon the first night outing, keeping those broad arms crossed under a leather jacket and a real mean bitchin' look on his face over dinner. This kinda' stuff really isn't his forte, he's a man that has killed and maimed men in different parts of the galaxy. He practically beats a bastich to work up an appetite for breakfast.
• But, once you bring up a topic of places and attractions up in the galaxy, thats when he tuned in. This guy has almost been everywhere, he knows the stars and planets like the back of his hand. Once you bring up the idea of visiting a space biker forge joint, he was all ears.
• It was really nice to roll up with a rockin' babe dressed all spunky for the occasion, other chumps turning and eye over and peepin' at the main man's date definitely something to flame his ego to new heights. He'd make sure to keep his hands on you while you both walked around, weather on your shoulders or hips. Anything to give the message that you're *his* pawn, nobody elses.
• Maybe this whole chummy relationship crap wouldn't be so bad after all, he loves spoiling you and showing you off because your *his*, you're the property of the main man, of *the* Lobo. Anything he can do that can make him look real good, he will do.
(Now we're getting to some suggestive areas, stay normal guys LMAO)
• As for behind closed doors, or rather, anywhere, he's definitely a fraggin' freak (affectionate) He's open to pretty much anything, as long as he gets to absolutely destroy you. Weather you put up a fight or just let him have it, it works for him and his insatiable appetite. If you're just as crazy as he is? It works just even better for him.
• If things get boring or if you're feeling real fiesty, he'll let you guide an expedition, but that doesn't mean you're in full control. If you degrade or just shame him enough, he'll snap and show you who's boss. He doesn't let anybody tell him who makes the rules or try to walk all over the main man, he will make sure to show it.
• Aftercare? He's never much for it, you're lucky enough if your split into two and he atleast takes you to get medical attention, otherwise, you better be real experienced to ride this rollercoaster honey. Of course if you both have been around eachother enough and swung through some ropes, he'll reconise some steps n' such to take to help you recover after a rustle in the jungle. Hope you like the thick smell of cigars and such though, he'll be chainsmoking them to hell and back while sitting back in bed after he's done with you.
That's about it! We're really obsessed with his comics and such currently, we can't rub off the Infanticide issue from our heads the art is just too good. If you guys seem to like this, we wouldn't mind doing another in the future! If you wish to support our other stuff, we have some doodles of Lobo provided by Effigy on our profile and another real mean peice of art cooking up here soon, stay tuned for that!
