The math sections are confusing because they are like a puzzle, where you have to figure out what they are actually asking to use the right formula (the formula will always be on that formula sheet).
English is more reading comprehension and analysis, so like can you figure out a word's definition based on context. For the story sections, the trick is to first read the questions and then skim the story to find the answers (I read the first and last paragraphs fully to get the general idea on what its about and read the first and last sentences of each middle paragraph at least)
If you are doing the essays, you do five paragraphs: intro, 3 arguments, and conclusion. Decide on what your side or thesis is (are you pro or against it? for example. It doesn't matter if you agree, the essay is looking of how good you are at defending your side). For each argument paragraph, it will be like this:
First sentence: The argument (this pipeline will endanger the planet)
Second sentence: Why so? (This pipeline will damage the environment and kill all the wildlife)
Third sentence: Grab evidence from the story and explain how it supports your side. (The essay says that previous pipelines have ruined the fauna, so this will happen to us). If you copy the line in quotes and explain who said it and which paragraph and which line it is, the better.
Fourth sentence: Write a sentence that hits the argument home (If we continue to let pipelines be built, we will irrepiblaby damage our environment.) Get extreme if ya have to.
Fifth sentence: Summarize the paragraph (Overall, the pipelines are bad because they forever damage the planet, so we must not build them).
Try to make one argument that appeals to logic (hey this is a waste of money or this doesn't make sense) and one that appeals to emotion (we will destroy our children's future), play up those emotions and if you think of a think of the children argument, do it.
The intro paragraph has the purpose of summarizing what you read, what is the thesis, and the final sentence is your side of the argument.
Conclusion is:
First sentence: Write what side you are on.
Second: summarize first argument
Third: summarize second argument
Fourth: summarize third argument
Fifth: a sentence that explains why your side is correct and why should you also follow it.
If you don't get an answer to a question instantly, skip to the next one. You want to make sure you have seen all the questions early on and finish the easy ones. If you can eliminate an option cause you know its wrong, mark it and worse case do a 50/50 bet on it and pick one.
Also, when time is almost over, pick a letter and fill the remaining questions, it is better to try than to leave it blank because you lose more points if you leave it blank than if you answered wrong.
Here are some resources: https://www.reddit.com/r/Sat/comments/hl3lqy/my_ultimate_list_of_free_sat_resources/
I have seen a few instances of this and I want to just say how I hate when fans head cannon Jason as Latino/Hispanic. As a Latina, you know what is like to see fics where I have to go "Oh, you see the very aggressive man who can't control his emotions, always uses guns, is part of a gang, and always kills people in gang wars as Hispanic and Latino? Gee, I wonder why? :)" This isn't as open-minded as you think it is.
I think those fans need to think when you change a characters ethnicity/race you could be showing unconscious biases and prejudice.
Also imagine one of the batkids getting a terminal illness or deadly injury and Bruce convinces Zatanna or Constantine to transfer it to him so his child can live. And then his family has to watch him die and they are so devastated and wish he had just let them go so their dad could live on and keep being a symbol of hope for Gotham >:)
Bread... That is NOT how you greet a person...
I've been eating my brain on this one for so long. But I decided fuck it and post the answer. The prompt is so goddamn fucking painful and I should hate you for this but sure. I loved it. So here.
Bruce dying from an illness he stole from his child.
Tim could only stare at the ceiling, too tired to keep on crying. Too sad to maintain his anger. He wants to get up and out of this room. He wants to hug his dad... But not even that is allowed as it would interrupt the heavy work those machines are doing at keeping Bruce alive. "Alive". Kinda. Sorta. Breathing? "Not really".
The first hour of screaming and destroying his room left him with a sore throat. If he wasn't alone right now, he would have looked around to see the person speaking right now.
Tim closed his eyes, sighing heavily and got up. He had to make phone calls, he had people to contact.
He half expected Damian to be the one to call the others when Zatanna got them both inside the manor. Maybe Barbara, because of course she must know by now. Right? So, either they didn't. Or Richard was way too devastated to even come to see their father. "No." He'll be here kicking Tim's ass for keeping the secret of his sickness long enough to turn deadly. Because OF COURSE Bruce would. Because Tim knows. Everyone knows. Bruce would. "...shit"
He pressed his lips tight, BEGGING for Dick not to answer. Please, please, PLEASE let him do this in a voice mail. "Plea-"
"Hey, Timbo!!"
He took a second to find the words. Of course Richard doesn't know. Does Barbara, then? Besides him and Damian, who else? Of course, Zatanna. But she hasn't left Bruce's room, so she didn't tell Richard. Fuck. Why does Dick have to NOT know? Can he just keep track of their father like any normal-?!
"Tim? Are you o-?"
"I killed dad." Oh.
"... What?" Oh no. Oh no no no. "Timothy. What are you saying?" Dick's voice was dark, slow, controlled. He could hear him moving as he asked. Probably getting ready to come to the manor and take his fucking heart out of his chest- "Where is Bruce, Tim?"
"His... Bedroom"
"Stay."
Tim kept staring at his wall with the phone against his ear. He should be running away right now, but for some reason the last word kept him frozen in place for... He finally let his arm fall, turning the phone to check on the time.
"Fuck." 30 minutes. He wasted 30 valuable minutes- He heard the motor before his thoughts could get in order. He swallowed and moved to the first floor to face him at the entrance.
... But he never entered. He cautiously opened the main door.
"I don't FUCKING care, Barbara." Dick's furious voice flooded his ears. "You tell me this kind of- I. DON'T. CARE!! HE'S MY DAD! MINE! You don't get to FUCKING DECIDE-!! No... No. We're not talking this out. No-"
Tim fully opened the door, allowing himself outside to see Dick pace around with the phone in his ear. "Yes. We ARE talking later. But not about this. No, Barbara. This is NOT debatable! You fucking CROSSED A LINE-!" He turned, making full eye contact with Tim. "I- I need to go."
Dick moved, prowled, towards him. Tim closed his eyes, clenching his teeth for the impact.
Dick crashed against him. A furious, trembling hug pulled him against a chest that caged a racing heart. He felt the shakiness in the breathing against his shoulder, a wet spot already forming on the cloth.
Just as sudden as he had hugged him, Dick stepped away, grabbing his forearm, without bothering to clean his messy face, and pulled him inside.
They walked in silence, Tim could only see the side of Dick's jaw as they moved. Always looking to the front. He could imagine the way his molars cracked under the pressure his brother was inflicting on his teeth. The hand on his arm firm, but not crushing, not painful.
When they finally arrived at Bruce's door, closed now - probably Damian's doing - only then did Dick let go of him.
It took him a couple of seconds, before words, barely a whisper, came from him. "I called Jay. Before coming here. Before calling Ba-... I-" He swallowed, placing his hand over the handle. Never looking at him. Tim wouldn't want to look at himself either. "Please call Cass, would you?" Tim nodded at his back. Dick twisted the handle, and Tim saw the precise moment he put on his mask. A bright smile, crinkling eyes. He pushed the door open. "Hey, mini D. Hey, Zee... Dad."
Tim waited a couple of seconds before leaving the empty hallway and going down the stairs. He thought of hiding inside Bruce's office, but the sound of keys opening the main door as he stepped down the first couple of stairs stopped him.
Jason moved slow. Calm. He looked up from where he was grabbing the rail. Tired green eyes focused on Tim's. A beat. He then looked down and stepped up, moving just enough not to collide with him. No words. No more looks. He just... Walked. Tim tried to catch his shuddering breath. He kept moving when he heard the soft knock on Bruce's door and Dick's voice welcoming Jason inside.
He couldn't do anything to calm Cassandra. She was so far away. Hours away. He didn't feel capable of encouraging her, to tell her she had time. To soothe her out of her panic attack. He just stood in place, with his ears filling with Cassandra's sobs and desperation as she tried to breathe. Her soft "No"s and "please"s got him to finally be able to cry again.
He hung up after he told her to take the jet. That even if it was a few hours, it was faster than any other option. She cried at him that she was calling Conner first. She was going to beg. He wished her luck.
"No idea how long he has" Zatanna had told him before he cowardly ran away.
"Father wouldn't want this" Damian had spoken when she started connecting him on the breathing tubes.
"I killed dad"
He pressed his forehead against the closed door. Inhale. Exhale. His dad was inside. His dad. The rest is irrelevant. They can kill him after. Maybe he can join his dad.
No...
He can't let them. From now on he has to live until 200. His life was now Bruce's.
He smirked. It had always been, anyway. But now it was literally Bruce's.
Inhale. Exhale. Just. Open. The door.
He banged his head once on the wood. He straightened with a nod- and the door opened.
"Oh. It was you." Jason's teary face looked at him. He moved aside to let him come. Tim just stared.
"We heard a knock, so he went to open" Dick shrugged. He was sitting on the bed's border. Next to Bruce's head. Both of their dad's hands between his own.
Damian curled against Bruce's side, cheek pressed on the big chest. He noticed the lack of machinery.
A hand pulled him from his bicep, making him walk inside. "We asked Zee to take them off" Jason added as he closed the door behind Tim, letting go of him. He moved away and sat on a chair next to Bruce. He opened a hand in front of Dick, and his oldest brother gave him one of Bruce's.
Jason pressed their dad's knuckles against his lips.
Tim moved as in a trance. Unable to look away from Bruce's relaxed face.
"He never slept so peacefully before" he didn't look at Dick. He couldn't. Hypnotized by the slow rise and fall from his dad's chest.
Green eyes locked into him. Damian barely moved from where he had been perched, freeing a small space from Bruce's chest, giving Tim a better view. He just realized his own actions when his hand entered his view, pressing on the space where his dad's heart beat. He couldn't stop his sounds either as he sobbed.
"The bastard could at least open his eyes so we could say goodbye"
"And miss Cass? Nah. He's waking up when she arrives"
"Baba would wait for us all to be here"
Jason sniffed and straightened. "Wanna sit? You've been moving all around"
Tim turned, facing him. Jason was crying.
"Don't you all hate me?"
Jason twisted his lips. Looking down for a second before looking up again.
"Kinda. But not fully. It's not really your fault, isn't it?"
"I'm more upset at this self sacrificial asshole, Timmy" Dick spoke next to him with a wet laugh.
Jason kissed Bruce's knuckles again.
"I killed dad."
He didn't miss Damian's eye roll from Bruce's side. "Get over yourself, Drake. We've all killed baba at least once."
"Have I?"
"Seriously, Dick? Just take the hint"
"Nah. I'm Bruce's pride and Joy. I'm perfect"
"Oh wow. He finally said it out loud"
"... You know I'm joking, right?"
"Can't believe you're such a hidden narcissist, Grayson"
"No. Guys, wait-"
"Damn. Goldie really thinks he's Goldie"
"Jay- no, no"
"Shameful. Shameful"
And Tim could only laugh, the stable pulse under his palm giving him false hope for a little bit of more time.
Classic Dick is Damian's parent but it's all in Dick's head and he gets corrected when he tries to say that shit irl pls 😭🙏
-🍙
"No, Damian, you don't need to do that. Forget it."
Bruce turns in his seat at the batcomputer, eyes narrowing in on Dick as he revokes Damian's punishment. "Excuse me? Dick, son, this has nothing to do with you."
Damian and Dick both look at him, surprised. "Bruce, you're being unreasonable."
Bruce turns fully, and stands. "Damian went missing for three days, and told no one where he was going. He had Talia and I scouring the globe to find him. He needs to be punished."
Dick laughs, waving a hand. "Bruce, he told me. I knew where he was the whole time. I told you, if you had just asked me I could've told you where he was."
Bruce straightens his back, glaring across the cave at his son. "That is the exact problem, Dick. He told you, not me. Not Talia. Why should I, his father, have to ask you for the whereabouts of my son? Why should you have the right to remove the punishments I place upon him?"
Bruce feels more eyes land on him from the others in the cave, and rolls his shoulders back. He is sick of this.
Dick stands too. "I'm his Batman, he—"
"Exactly," Bruce snaps, not letting him finish. "And this had nothing to do with patrol. Not to mention that you aren't partners anymore, and he should be listening to my orders above yours, but I have let that slide. What I will not, is you assuming the role of a guardian where you have no right to."
"No right? Damian is my Robin—"
"That means nothing. Robin has never been tied to being my child, and you don't seem to understand that. Just because you left when I took Robin doesn't mean that's how it works. Stephanie was Robin," he says, gesturing across the cave to her, and she looks between the two of them with wide eyes. "She is not my child. Tim was Robin for multiple years before I took guardianship of him. Cassandra is my child, and she was never Robin. I didn't offer guardianship to Duke because of We Are Robin."
The whole cave is looking at him, but Bruce doesn't take his eyes off Dick, who is looking back at him with slightly widened eyes.
"Robin has never equated guardianship. It is a separate factor of this family, and if you see them as linked that is on you. I didn't disown you when I took Robin, you ran away from home. If you want Damian to be your son, you take me to court and challenge my guardianship. Don't just say you're his Batman and act like that means anything."
"Father—"
"Go to your room, Damian. In the morning, you will do your punishments as I have laid out. Your mother will arrive tomorrow with her own list, and you will complete those too. Am I understood?"
Damian bows his head. "Yes, Father." He turns, trudging up to the manor, and Bruce takes a seat again at the batcomputer, finishing up his report.
Tim sidles up alongside him, and perches on the arm of the chair. "Robin doesn't equate being your son?"
Bruce pauses his typing, then resumes and finishes filing his report before looking at his son. "No. Tim, I thought you knew this."
Tim picks at a thread on Bruce's sweater. "Can we talk about my future as Robin?"
Bruce looks at him softly, and nods. "I have to tuck Damian in, but if you go to my room we can talk about whatever you want to."
Tim smiles at him, and disappears into another part of the cave. Bruce shuts down the computer, and heads for the stairs. On his way, he passes Dick, who studies him with something inscrutable in his gaze. Bruce gives no indication of acknowledgement, and leaves the cave.
your recent bruce tries to give dami to dick but with a bit of a twist: dick also thinks he's damian's parent. he gets humbled real fast plsplspls i need this
probably should do this when I'm not sleep deprived but wtv
(.)
Sorry other anon that asked me for this unprompted *checks* six days ago I didn't know what to do until now.
"Hey, Dames." Dick leans into his room, a hesitant smile on his face. He doesn't— He doesn't feel good when he thinks about the expression on Bruce's face, he loves his dad, but it's outweighed by the light feeling in his chest.
Giving Damian back to Bruce after the timestream was the hardest thing he's ever had to do, and knowing that Damian wants to be back with Dick too is intoxicating.
"Richard."
"You're coming with me, kiddo, pack a bag."
Damian slides off the bed, making for his walk in, and Dick tosses the bag he's tossed onto it, dropping the custody papers next to it, humming as he starts grabbing Damian's favoured items from around the room.
Maybe the'll need to move back to the penthouse. It would be harder without Alfred since he'll probably stay at the manor, and he'll have to commute to Blüd, but it'd be worth it for—
"Damian?" He looks at the kid, who's now staring at the papers, and furrows his brow. Something's wrong.
"What is this?" His brother (son?) asks, and Dick can't help but smile.
"Bruce just gave them to me. I can't believe you didn't tell me you and Bruce were planning this, Dames, you could've given me more than five minutes to prepare."
"Prepare for what?"
"Coming back to live with me." Dick steps forward, reaching for Damian. "Isn't it..." Damian ducks out of reach, and a brick settles in Dick's stomach. "Great?"
"Why would I go to live with you?" Damian glances at him, then the door, and the brick gets heavier. Dick hasn't been one of the people Damian bolts from for years. "You're not my guardian."
"I. I am now," he laughs, nervous, and gestures to the papers. "Bruce said you and him talked about it."
"No. No!" Damian runs from the room, and Dick is running after him before he has any idea what's happening. "Father! Father!"
"Damian!" Dick catches up to him, and clasps a hand around Damian's wrist, pulling him to a stop. "Damian, talk to me. What's happening?"
"Father, he— he made a joke the other night and we fought about it and I didn't think he would do this and— FATHER!"
"Damian— hey. Hey." He crouches next to his brother, and puts a hand on his arm. "What was the joke?"
Damian finally meets his eyes, and Dick coos softly, wiping away the tears he sees. "He thinks I love you more than him." Something in Dick's chest stops, and the way Damian tenses tells him his smile has dropped, and he looks down to the floor. "Richard. I love you tremendously, you must believe me."
"I know, kiddo." He sniffs. "Just not as much as Bruce."
Damian steps forward, bullying his way into Dick's embrace, and he indulges himself, wrapping the kid up tightly. "You will always be my Batman. You will always be my big brother. But Father is—"
"He's your dad. I get it, Damian." Dick kisses the side of his head, and stands, surprisingly not having to try too hard to find a smile for him. "So let's go find our dad, and tell him he's a big fool, yeah?"
Damian smiles, and Dick can tell he wants to race off ahead, but he takes the time to grab Dick's hand, and he swears something in his chest shatters into a thousand pieces. Damian starts tugging him forward, and Dick looks down, gathering himself, and realises he's still holding a toy from Damian's room.
He never had time to put it down, and stares at the little lion barely bigger than his palm. He'd given it to Damian when they did live together, when Dick was too much of a coward to give him Zitka, who he'd always wanted to pass along to his own child.
Guess it's a good thing he chose the lion instead.
"Father!"
Damian tears away from Dick, bolting across the hall, and Bruce startles, just catching Damian as he slams into his legs. "Damian? I thought..." Bruce looks up to Dick, and falters when Dick smiles at him with wet eyes.
He looks down at Damian, and hushes the now-crying boy, stroking a hand over his head, before looking back up to Dick. He lifts an arm, and Dick trips over to him, slamming into the hug. Bruce curves an arm over him, drawing him close, and Dick, finally lets the tears out against his shoulder. Bruce leans his head to the side, pressing close, and Dick leans in too.
On the tangent of Dick being Damian’s Dad (he’s not)
What about Batkids who think Dick is more their father than Bruce, but Dick never sees it this way and it’s also based on some of the batkids’s own assumptions.
Like they thing Dick was doing stuff with/for them but they either misremember or just assumed Dick but it actually was Bruce. And also misunderstanding the difference between a fun older brother and a parent who also has to reprimand you.
Dick if he finds out about this is having his by far biggest I-Love-My-Dad- Crashout yet
Preface: this is not Cass/Duke erasure I just genuinely think they wouldn't be this damn stupid
"What."
"What?"
"What."
"What?"
"WHAT?" Dick stands in a rush, storming away from the table. His brothers blink at him where they're left behind, and he whips back around to stare at them. "You are not this stupid. You are literal geniuses, you cannot be this stupid."
"Christ, Goldie." Jason grins. "Fine, we won't compliment you anymore."
Dick stares at him. "I— You're fucking with me. This can't be real." He pinches his arm, and when that stings like a motherfucker, turns and hunts for his emergency generic poison antidote. He knew he was dosed with something yesterday by that assassin but he thought his immunity was handling it. Clearly not.
"Dick, are you alright?" Tim comes closer, but Dick pulls his arm away, shaking his head.
"Your brothers aren't this stupid, it's not real." He stabs the needs into his arm and groans as he presses the plunger down.
"Dick, what the fuck?!"
"Richard, what are you doing?"
Dick holds up a finger. "Five minutes."
Five minutes pass. He feels no different. He takes a deep breath.
"WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SAY I WAS LIKE A FATHER FIGURE TO YOU?"
"We said you are," Damian correctly huffily, and Dick glares at him.
"I am not your father, what the fuck."
Tim glances at the floor. "Bruce isn't here, Dick, there's no reason to deny it. You've treated us like your children for years. Better than B has, sometimes."
Dick stares. Blinks. Stares some more. "How the fuck am I not hallucinating? No. I have never treated you like you're my kids."
"Dick, you wanted to take custody of me off Bruce."
"You were my guardian for six months."
Tim frowns. "Well now I feel left out."
Dick rubs his brow. "Jason, I was a dumb eighteen year old. I could barely hold together a job along with Nightwing, if I took you from Bruce we both would've been back on his doorstep in a week. Damian, I had custody of you because our fucking dad died. Did you forget that part?"
"All we did was say you'd be a good dad—"
"You don't know that," Dick interrupts. "You have no basis to say that, because you've never seen me in a parental capacity, because I've never acted like your dad."
"Yeah, you have." Tim starts just— listing things, then the other two join in, and Dick can do nothing but just stare in utter confusion.
"Those are older brother things! Taking you to jump trains isn't fatherly, it's fucking stupid and put both of our lives at risk. You know—older brother things! Like how Jason keeps offering to take you two to bars despite the fact you're kids. It isn't fucking dad behaviour!"
Dick gets up from his seat again, and starts pacing the flat. He nearly trips over the half-built crib, and rubs his hands over his face. How did today turn into this?
He whirls back on his brothers, anger surging to the forefront, enveloping everything else he feels about this idiocy. "Are you telling me you're really casting Bruce aside like this? Half of the shit you just listed wasn't even me, it was him! And—" He points at Jason. "Bruce broke his rule for you! He tried again and again and again to kill the Joker. He was ready to start World War Three because of how much he loved you!" He spins to Tim. "Bruce's love for you was enough to drag him back from the brink. He loved you so much it saved his life, and you just want to cast that aside? To pretend it doesn't matter, and he's not a good father to you?" Then Damian. "Bruce went to hell for you. He passed on an opportunity to have his parents back, for you. He has spent thirty years in mourning of them, and didn't think twice about choosing you over them! You think he's a bad father?"
He's yelling now, he can't seem to make himself stop, and storms towards the door. "If you don't want Bruce to be your father, FINE. God knows I'll never understand why, but fine. Just don't blame it on me for acting like a normal brother, and definitely don't go and suck up to him as a backup plan. If you don't want Bruce to be your father, don't try and be his sons. Definitely don't try to be mine!"
He slams the door behind him, and sinks into a crouch. What the hell is he supposed to do now?
"Hey, chum." Bruce smiles at him, setting the office phone back in it's cradle. "Are you feeling better? Wally said you had a bit of a panic when Kori collapsed earlier."
"Um. You could say that," he croaks.
Bruce nods, smile becoming slightly nostalgic. "Pregnancy is scary, son, Talia has plenty of blackmail on me. That's nothing to be ashamed of. But Kori is fine, I have her under observation, and the baby is okay too. I was about to head out, do you want to come with?"
"Yeah. Um, yeah. But first..."
Dick gulps. What does he even say?
Bruce seems slightly surprised when Dick storms across the room and into a hug, but holds him tight, and tucks Dick under his chin like he's a scared little kid again. "Do you think I'll be a good dad...Dad?"
Bruce hums. "I think you'll try your best. I also think you'll screw up a lot, but nowhere near as much as I did." He laughs. "It's hard, Dick. But I think if your little girl knows how hard you tried for her, she'll think you're a wonderful dad."
Dick melts into him in relief, and Bruce kisses the top of his head. "Any advice?"
"Get your wife a present for leaving her at the hospital alone."
Dick groans, and Bruce laughs, starting towards the door and carrying Dick with him "Come on, Donna was threatening to drag you in by your hair anyway, this will be less painful."
"Hey Bruce?"
He slows, looking down at him, and Dick gives him a smile. "You're a good dad."
"Thanks, chum," Bruce says wetly. "I appreciate that."
I know I somehow am everywhere whoops, im just very online and was sick yesterday, unable to do anything else..
ANYWAYS
I was thinking of npa, but after the kids witness Bruce breaking down during a heat—a bad one—and his scent just fills the while manor and is rotten with pain and suffering and loneliness.
Damian, being a pup, ends up going into almost a stress-rut, smelling the pack omega in distress and not being able to help because he isn't pack. Bruce is family to them, but not pack to anyone but Alfred. Alfred barely scents Bruce, so Bruce doesn't try.
Damian and Cass recognize that Bruce holds himself back, so when hes in this intense, painful heat while Damian is in rut, Cass decides to bring Damian—kicking and screaming and growling—to Bruce so he can finally be scented and calm down a little for all their sakes.
Tim catches on quickly, same with Duke and Stephanie, especially Steph since she's read about things like this, but never seen it happen and never thought it would happen to someone so strong and stubborn like Bruce.
Dick and Jason.. they are stuck thinking Bruce doesn't want them as his pups, and even now theyre unable to fully let their guard down to get in the nest and give the thorough scenting Bruce needs in this moment, but can give up enough for Damian.
Alfred and Leslie are there, but to watch over the kids and monitor Bruce's actions incase he lashes out against Dick, the pack alpha, getting close to his nest. They even have sedatives on hand.
(sorry this is very word vomit)
Bruce usually leaves the manor, or shuts himself away for his heats. The kids never usually are around.
But Bruce was on a JL mission, he barely managed to stumble back to his room before succumbing to the agony of his heat. He thinks he manages to shut himself away adequately, he doesn't realise in his fugue state that he missed locking the door, and his scent is leaching out into the rest of the manor.
The kids don't realise anything is wrong at first. But as Damian, Duke and Cass converge for breakfast, it's tense. They're snapping at each other, hackles raised, barely holding back growls, but don't know why they're so agitated.
Damian decides to take a break and grumbles he's going to wake Bruce up. He doesn't come back down, and they assume he's just keeping a distance while they're so on edge.
It's lunchtime before they realise they still haven't seen him.
Going to the family wing rewards them by walking into a cloud of omegan pain, thick and cloying. They cough, gag, ready to sprint down the hall to Bruce's room, but Damian bolts out of his bedroom and throws himself at them with a snarl.
"Mock rut," Duke guesses, pinning him to the floor. "Bruce— whatever's wrong with Bruce has triggered it."
Right on cue, a whine of pain slices through the air from Bruce's room, and they're down the hall in a flash, finding him in what can barely be classed as a nest, comprised mainly of their belongings, writhing in pain.
Duke digs his phone out and sends emergency codes out to the others, and Cass panics, forcing a thrashing Damian into Bruce's arms. His rut aggression vanishes as soon as Bruce blearily draws him into a hug, scenting him, and he burrows into his chest with a whine.
Duke and Cass stare at each other. Damian is an easy fix, but Bruce...
Bruce proves them right, and barely gets better with the addition of Damian into his 'nest'. They're pacing the room, no clue on what to do next, when Steph and Tim fly into the room, the first to respond to the emergency codes.
Steph looks at Bruce, and pales. Starts calling orders, and the three of them are rushing to obey, spooked by the genuine terror in her voice. They bully their way into the nest alongside Bruce, letting him lean on them, guiding him to scent them when he's too out of it to do it himself, and he still is only incrementally better.
Dick and Jason arrive, but put themselves on guard duty. Protests are ignored, and they submit to the instincts of an alpha smelling a pained omega, patrolling the halls around Bruce's room. But they won't go inside, can't believe Bruce wants to be pack with them so much it's killing him. It has to be something else.
Then Alfred and Leslie show up, and start checking on everyone, especially Bruce and Damian. Steph demands to know what's different about this heat, what caused this, and Alfred hums.
"This room is scent proofed. In failing to lock the door, he could smell the rest of you."
Leslie packs up her med kit. "Really, he isn't much worse than usual."
That is the final straw, seeing the way Steph seems completely crushed by that information. Even not knowing the medicine behind it, the others are just as upset.
Dick and Jason are finally reached, hearing that, and join the nest. If this is Bruce's normal, they can't let him suffer through it another minute.
I asked this similar ask with nigaki but I also want your take: not exactly soulmate au but fate gave everyone a red string, invisible to human eye, and Clark and Bruce are connected. But the problem is that Bruce falls for Clark but it is unrequited for a good while, with Clark even marrying someone else. Bruce always remains friends because his feelings maybe unrequited but ti doesn't change their relationship. But by the time Clark falls for Bruce in return, years later and thinks of confessing, Bruce dies and is left to mourn and wonder what could've been.
Thick goes on for each life.
The last life they live, the DC timeline where they're Superman and Batman, Clark marries Lois and Bruce tries to move on. And fate is tired of this old game. They see the cycle and decides enough is enough, this was supposed to be their last chance to be together.
So Bruce dies and Clark, who realizes his feelings, is left to mourn what could've been. But this time will be different. When both of them are in the afterlife, with Clark finally dying after living so long, fate cuts the string between them. They give Clark what he want, tying his string to Lois since that's who he marries in all lifetimes, and Bruce is reincarnated to find someone who wants him. And when he does find that someone who chooses him over and over again after that, fate ties his string to them. J'onn is my main guy for this role but it's up to you if you have someone else in mind.
Fate saw how Bruce fell for Clark yet again, but he turned and chose Lois yet again. Fate saw how once more Bruce laughed, and smiled, and stood by Clark's side as he married her.
Fate also saw another character in this latest cycle. Someone new. Who looked at Bruce with such adoration, and devotion, yet schooled his features and settled for a friendship because it was the closest he could get while Bruce looked in another direction.
They don't wait for this cycle to end. They snap the thread between the couple they've been waiting on for centuries, and retie two new threads.
Clark gets what he's always wanted, and is now tied to Lois. Overnight, their marriage deepens, their love strengthens, and they bask in what feels like a second honeymoon phase between the two of them.
Bruce is now bound to J'onn. And to help things along, Fate bends their own rules, and intervenes. Takes the feelings of friendship Bruce feels towards J'onn, and pokes at them, bringing them to the surface, to Bruce's attention. Hyperaware of his affection for J'onn, he now sees J'onn's love for him. Love he hadn't understood before, and is drawn towards him, feelings for Clark dimming back down to a simple friendship.
The two of them get together, and Fate watches proudly. Their string shines, luminescent with their love, and Fate knows they've made the right choice. This is a love that will last through cycles.
Fate watches Clark's attention swing back towards Bruce now that he's gone, and watches the sparks of love burn in his chest, but Fate is petty, or so their siblings say, and they don't do anything. Bruce has suffered cycle after cycle of unrequited love, and now it is simply Clark's turn.
Zatanna slaps John in the arm. "Ack, what'd I do?"
"Look!"
"Love, what are you..." John's mouth drops open, and his cigarette falls to the floor, and he mindlessly grinds his heel into it to put it out. "Well damn."
"Fate intervened."
Clark's red string disappears through the wall, back towards Earth.
Bruce's stretches a mere foot away, where it's now lodged into J'onn's chest.
"Oh, good for Bruce."
"Does this mean Batsy's off limits?" John laughs, then groans when Zatanna stomps on his toe. "Ow, c'mon, love, you know you're the only one I want."
"Tell that to your pet shark," she snaps, and turns back to Bruce. "He deserves a new soulmate. Their string was so old, and so dark."
"Aye. Must've been dozens of cycles."
"And J'onn too. I've always thought they'd be good together."
John laughs, and drags her close with a hand around her waist. "You're so full of shit, love."
"Am not—"
He laughs, and starts walking towards them, tugging Zatanna with him. "C'mon, let's go congratulate the happy couple."
I’m back in your asks because this idea has been haunting me for a really long time and I can’t seem to write it how I’m imagining it and I just know you would do it justice. It is a big ask though. It’s a big prompt. So hopefully you’ll hear me out because I’m on my angst bullshit.
OK, so I saw this post a while ago and I really wanted to make a prompt out of it, but I could not write it to save my life because it just does not come out the way I’m imagining it.
But I would change it to instead of it being Dick talking to Jason. I think it should be Tim. Because Tim was the one that was there for Bruce more than anybody else. And in my cannon of Tim, he live, laugh, loves being a Wayne. He loves Bruce so much, and will defend his father down.
Anyway, so the prompt is that Jason is once again upset that the Joker is not dead and there’s dialogue that leads up to the phrase “If he loved me, he would’ve killed the Joker” and then Tim comes back with “And if you loved him, you wouldn’t ask him to do that”
And basically just telling Jason that even though he deserves to be avenged, the one guy who is telling you that if he kills, it will cause irreparable damage to his psyche, and he will never be the same person ever again. Should not be the one that has to kill Joker. Does Joker deserve to die? Absolutely, but it can’t be by Bruce’s hand. And then somewhere in there Jason‘s like well obviously he didn’t love me because he replaced me with you immediately, and then Tim is just like..
“And how would you know that? Nobody was here, but me and Alfred. We were the only ones that cared enough to make sure he was still alive so you can even have the arguments that you’re having with him now.” and Tim tells Jason and whoever else is in the vicinity, everything that he’s done to keep Bruce here/alive. Because Dick left and would not come back even though his dad was grieving. Like yes, you lost your brother, but he just lost his son. And on top of that both Barbara and Dick blamed Bruce for Jason dying when it was not his fault. 
And then you know, he tells them the times that he’s kept Bruce from killing himself as Batman and as Bruce. You know just all the angst stuff that Bruce was dealing with, but I don’t want it to be where Bruce hated and was abusive to Tim, because Bruce never hated Tim. He was just drowning in grief. I was thinking more of along the lines of “Depressed mama bear is found by feral child. And even though they are depressed and want to die, they also want to take care of this child. so that’s their baby now.”
I see this era for them as a mutual benefit, Bruce needed somebody to take care of. And Tim needed to be taken care of. But Bruce also needed to be taken care of. I don’t know if I’m explaining this correctly. I hope you can see my vision.
Also, because this is such a huge ask, and would be a huge prompt to pull out of your ass. Feel free to ignore. 🥰 I just thought you’d like it.
(one little thing if I can make one last request no “bad parent Alfred”. 😖🙏🏽 Just because I love Alfred so much. I just see this more as... Even though Alfred cares very deeply for Bruce. He’s not what Bruce needs to be pulled out of his grief.)
Okay I’ll leave you alone now 🤍
Jason goes still, and looks at Tim. "What?"
"I said: if you really loved Bruce, you wouldn't ask him to do that." Tim doesn't look up from his work, tapping away at his tablet. "It's not fair."
"'Not fair?' I was murdered, do you think that's fair?"
"No."
"And you think it's fair that the world just kept spinning afterwards? Nothing changed, nothing happened, like I was never really alive at all?"
Tim sets the tablet down, and Jason matches him glare for glare. How dare this fucking kid—
"No, I don't. It's not fair that you weren't avenged, but it also isn't fair to demand someone does it for you. To force a gun on them and demand they fire it." Tim stands, and something shifts as he approaches Jason. "And don't you dare say that nothing happened."
"Nothing—"
"Bruce died in Ethiopia, Jason." Jason pauses, and Tim pinches the bridge of his nose. "A part of Bruce died when you stopped breathing. You don't get to say nothing happened because it did. The man that raised Dick, that raised you, he's gone. He died when his son did."
Jason looks down. Fists his hands.
"I love Bruce. With my whole, entire heart, and I wouldn't change being his son. But unlike the others, I know what he was like before. I saw the man that raised you, and it is not the same man that took me in."
"You mean right after I died? One hell of a mourning period."
"Dammit, Jay. You don't know what was happening back then. No offence, but you were dead. Bruce was trying his best to end up the same way."
Jason stiffens. Bruce wouldn't... "He seems fine now."
"Mm. You know Bruce is always better when he has someone to look after. His own wellbeing isn't enough of an incentive, it never has been. Someone relying on him is the key." Tim spreads his hands. "Meet someone. I needed someone to look after me. I was breaking out of my boarding school, I was running around the worst parts of the city, I was putting myself in danger worse than I realised in the moment. Bruce needed someone under his wing, and the pieces just fell into place."
"Robin."
Tim crosses his arms, looking away. "I was trying to get Dick to be Robin. Doing it myself was never the plan. But they were in trouble, Alfred handed me the suit, and we tumbled into it from there."
"Dickbird has wanted Robin back ever since it was taken from him. Why—"
"Bruce. That isn't who they were anymore."
"Right."
"Did you know Dick blamed Bruce for your death?"
Jason's eyes shoot up, and Tim gives him a miserable nod. "There's a reason Bruce seems so desnsitised when you lay the blame at his feet. He's been hearing it since you died. Dick, Barbara, his own damn mind."
Tim sits back down, closer to Jason this time. "You don't get to say that nothing changed after you died, Jason. Everything changed. I get that you feel cast aside, and I get that the Joker needs to die. But Bruce cannot be the one to do it, it will kill him. Whoever emerges from the other side of that won't be Bruce."
Jason stays quiet, and Tim takes his hand, looking at him with wet, angry eyes. "I won't let you take my dad from me, Jason."
He finally nods, and sniffs. Tim nods too. That's that.
Dick, in the middle of doing whatever he does when he’s not at the manor and not doing a case, paused when he saw Bruce’s name flash across his screen.
“Yo, B, are you alright?” Dick quickly finished the piece of toast he was gnawing on, cleaning the crumbs around his mouth. He could hear crying in the background, and to his knowledge, Damian was the only one at home with Bruce. “Is everything okay? Do I need to come over?”
“Uh…” Bruce pulled away from the phone and murmured something, which only caused the crying to get significantly louder. It was definitely Damian.
Dick was already scrambling around, trying to find where he had thrown his keys the night before. “Shit- okay, okay, I’m coming.”
“No, no chum, you don’t have to do that.” Bruce quickly responded. “It’s just-“ Bruce lets out a soft huff, and Damian cries get softer as Bruce, presumably, hugs him. “You know how I have that business trip to Thailand coming up? And how Damian’s supposed to stay with you for the week?”
Dick nodded. “Uh, yeah. Cleaned out my guest bedroom for him.”
“Well, I told him, and he really, really doesn’t wanna go. I thought he would have a nice time hanging out with his big brother, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen.” Bruce winced. “I’m sorry, baby, he’s been really clingy lately. I think I might just take him with me.”
“Really?” Dick hears Damian’s stuffy voice, small and crackling from crying. "I can come?"
“Yes, Habibi. I’m sorry Dickie, I probably messed up your entire schedule.” Bruce sighed. “This reminds me of when you used to cry your little heart out when you were small, whenever I had to go out of the country.” Bruce chuckled softly.
Dick flushed and cleared his throat. “Jeez, Dad, way to bring up my embarrassing past.” He hears Damian giggle softly and can’t really find himself to be too mad about it. "It's no problem, I can still pick up some shifts from work or just chill out."
"Thanks Dickie, I gotta go now. I'll see you when I see you?"
"Yeah, I'll come over before you leave to say bye," Dick said, getting a small hum in response. "Bye, Dames, I'll see you later."
"Mm, goodbye Richard," Damian mumbled before Bruce hung up, clearly a lot happier now that he had gotten what he wanted.
And Jason not knowing this when he becomes Red Hood and him still trying to hunt down Bruce to make him kill the Joker but for very obvious reasons he can’t find his dad- Bruce so instead he goes after Tim.
And Titans Tower happens but after the fact he decides to hold Tim captive to force Batman to show his face but instead Nightwing shows up and long story short finds out that Hood is Jason and he ends up having to explain that Bruce also died that night and so on and so forth-
you can ignore this if you want 😅😅
Jason senses a familiar presence behind him and spins around, levelling his gun the nose of the cowl. Then he pauses. "Why the fuck are you in the cowl?"
Dick takes a step back, staring at Jason. His head turns, looking at the kid bound to the chair, and Timothy Drake shrugs. "Jason?" He asks, and Jason clicks the safety off when he takes a step towards him. "Jason?"
"I want Bruce. Where the hell is he?"
Dick makes a wounded noise, and slowly sinks to his knees. He tears back the cowl, and Jason narrows his eyes. It's been two years, yet Dick looks like he's aged ten. "He's not with you?"
Jason sneers. "Why the hell would Bruce be there when I clawed my way out of my own grave?" He gestures with his pistol towards the kid. "He certainly didn't waste any time replacing me."
Dick makes another guttural noise, and sinks lower, the cape pooling around him. "Did you look at the plots next to you?"
A brick settles in Jason's stomach, and he takes a step back from Dick. "I had a lot of brain damage from the Joker. I only have memories from after I was dunked into a Lazarus Pit."
Dick lifts a gauntleted hand to his mouth, and bows over. "Jay. Little bird, I'm so sorry."
Jason feels his blood run cold at Dick dropping the name Bruce used to use for him. He's only heard Dick use it to comfort kids in dire straits, it's never been said to Jason so that can only mean—
"Dick, no."
"He was trying to get to you."
"No."
"He got to the warehouse before the bomb detonated."
Jason discards his gun, clapping his hands over his ears. "No, Dick!"
"We found him lying on top of you. He tried to shield you from the blast."
Memories Jason's never seen in his nightmares flash across his eyes, and he stumbles watching Bruce's bloody face try for a smile above him, breaths coming in pained, broken gasps. "Someone will find you, Jay. Just hold on."
"Talia said I died from smoke inhalation," Jason reports numbly, but Dick doesn't say anything, crying as he stares at him. The kid is the one to speak, looking like the personification of the word uncomfortable.
"Bru— Batman succeeded in protecting you from the blast, but..." The kid pauses, Dick gags between sobs, and Jason also feels like might throw up. "He was fully bisected during the explosion. Between your injuries, and that, Batman could not extract you, and you slowly suffocated."
"Someone will find you"
"Will find you"
"Find you"
"You"
"Bruce is dead."
Timothy looks away, and Dick crawls across the room to Jason, dragging him into a hug. Jason can't summon the will to fight it, and curls up against him, and abruptly begins to bawl. Dick cries over him, clutching him close, murmuring prayers (even if Jason knows he's agnostic) and praise and thanks into Jason's hair, shaking with his own tears.
"Bruce is dead."
"He— Yeah, little bird. I'm so sorry."
"Bruce is dead."
"I'm sorry."
"Dick." Jason voice is weak, and crackles, but Dick hums and looks at him attentively anyway. "I want my dad."
Dick's face crumples, and he nods, pressing their heads together as they both cry. "Me too, Jay. Me too."
Ok I won't lie I love all your non superbat stuff very much, but just 2 of your posts about superbat have my heart doing flips because of them.
I love how in your last drabble Bruce was just being a little pos to tease Clark, but what would happen if he wasn't teasing Clark.
Not sure on which occasion it would be that Bruce would just try to endure the harassment from an alien dignitary but he does. Maybe it's a very big peace treaty moment or whatever. Bruce has been enduring so many people looking at him like he's a piece of meat and touching him inappropriately and it's getting beyond anything Bruce had to suffer in his own galas. And the change of his heartbeat alerts Clark, who's immediately like fuck this treaty, how dare they do shit like this to Bruce. And he's throwing hands. Bruce is angry but he cannot be angry enough because he knows how Clark is and he knew from the start that if Clark found out by the harassment he would flip.
But long story short,they didn't end up in trouble because the other party was also not aware of their people being so disgusting to Bruce, so the treaty ends well and fine.
The Justice League's delegation is sent back to Earth with gifts as an apology and promises to reschedule. The others give them the all clear, and Bruce draws Clark into the Javelin's small shower cabin.
"You didn't need to do that," he gripes, lifting a wet cloth to Clark's cheek, wiping away the blood dired onto his skin.
Clark grabs his wrist, and his eyes glow red. "Yes. I did."
Bruce gives him a tired look and takes his hand back, moving to a new stripe of blood. "Now we have to renegotiate that treaty. Without it the Thenens will starve."
"We can send a temporary order," Clark growls. "I'm not letting you get molested for the sake of politics."
Bruce scoffs, and mutters about alien biology under his breath as he scrubs at blood that seeped through Clark's suit. "I'm used to it, Clark, I thought you—"
"I have accepted the persona you put out to the public, because when it comes to that you are ultimately in control. I was not going to stand by and watch you be groped and forced upon when I could do something about it. You had no power there, Bruce, that's the difference." He grabs Bruce's chin. "Now stop trying to pick a fight, I heard your vitals level as soon as I pulled that scum off you."
Bruce sighs, then ignores the fact Clark is standing under the stream of water, and leans his head on his chest. "Thank you."
Clark makes a low, approving noise, and draws Bruce into a hug. "You never have to go through that again," he assures. "I know you can take care of yourself, but next time... call for me. Please, Bruce."
"I will," he promises, leaning into Clark and just dealing with his clothes slowly soaking through. Clark's hug makes it worth it. "Thanks," comes after, a quiet mumble into his chest, and Clark shakes his head.
"No thanks, darling, that's what I'm here for."
"Scaring off predators?"
"Whatever you need. It's all part of loving someone."
classic superbat cat transformation fic except instead of bruce being magicked into a small domestic kitty he's just this huge fuckin jaguar.
everyone is worried when batman stops responding to his comm mid-battle, and clark can't justify abandoning his post when hal is closer to b's last known location.
and then hal's blood curdling scream pierces through the comm and clark is racing fast enough to create a sonic boom, except...what he sees is more than a little confusing.
one of the sentry droids that the aliens have been using for protection lays sparking off to the side. hal is flat on his front, cheek smushed into the pavement, clearly unable to move very much—what with the massive cat perched on his back.
"um, hal?" clark asks, inching forward. "everything okay?"
the cat licks over hal's hair as he grumbles, making it stick up in all directions. "i think spooky got transformed," hal says, his voice strained under the cat's—bruce's?—weight. "he scared the shit out of me, but he was only going after the robot."
"yeah..." clark says, distracted. "i see that." as he steps closer, the cat lifts its massive head, eyes piercing as it tracks his movements. it's tail flicks quickly, ears swivelling forward to give clark its full, undivided attention.
clark shivers. that's definitely bruce.
———
the battle wraps up and clark manages to corral bruce back to he cave with the rest of the league in tow. they call zatanna. she says to let the spell run its course, as its safer to let it be than try to tamper with bruce's physical form any further.
that leaves bruce stuck as a big cat for a week.
and acting like one.
he prowls around the cave, slipping into the shadows with ease and using the rosettes in his fur to help blend in with the rock walls. more than once, he sneaks up behind a league member and pounces on them with a snarl, effectively terrifying them but never causing any real harm.
clark is the only one who maintains the opinion that bruce is cute. the others shoot him weird looks and then promptly designate him as bruce's babysitter for the week he's stuck like this.
clark really doesn't mind. bruce obviously enjoys sneaking up on people, and from the research he manages to do while bruce sleeps, clark discovers it's actually a common way for jaguars to play and teach each other how to hunt.
time progresses. bruce takes it upon himself to groom clark's hair multiple times. clark just smiles through it, privately amused and also grateful for his invulnerability after feeling the sharp bumps on bruce's tongue. bruce initiates play hunting and tackling far more than clark would have expected, but he's not going to complain. clark takes time to work on his articles when bruce slinks off to rest, except apparently bruce gets sick of that, because he clamps down on the arm of clark's chair with his powerful jaw and literally drags it over to the cots in the cave. they rest together. clark tries to enjoy the warmth of bruce's back against his side while it lasts.
———
all in all, the week passes quickly enough, but as the hours tick down to minutes, clark admits to himself that a part of him will miss how playful bruce was as a big cat, and also how much time he got to spend with bruce, alone together, completely uninterrupted.
and then bruce turns, and clark watches it happen before his eyes as bruce's fur shrinks away to scarred skin and hard muscle, his padded toes stretching into thick, callused fingers, and the shape of his eyes returning to a more natural almond.
clark notices two things, after it's all said and done:
bruce is stark naked
the ears and tail didn't disappear with the rest of the fur
I enjoy angst, I also enjoy superbat and shity justice league so why not have an amalgamation of them.
I have a thing for justice league knowing about superbat's relationship and they all simultaneously become shity about it. Like making fun of Clark's taste, saying how Clark deserves better and how upright and not fun to be around Batman is.
Bruce is used to those comments,he has heard them his entire life so it's like background noise to him. Clark on the other hand doesn't fucking appreciate this constant mockery of his lover at all. And to his credit he never did, even while he and Batman were just friends Clark was quick to shut all of this nonsense about batman tho he was kind of casual and gently firm about it and he genuinely didn't think that it was anything other than surface level jokes. But now seeing that their teammates actually mean that shit, it's like nuh uh Clark won't let that shit sail at all.
He's quick to remind everyone that the place that they're standing on belongs to Bruce,that the man had saved their asses countless times that he is the main strategist of the team and more than 50% of the time they fall in trouble solely because they refuse to follow Bruce's plans and so much more. He also makes it clear that these "jokes" which only makes them laugh are not jokes but serious fucking harassment and he will not tolerate that shit.
I'm just a slut for protective Clark and resigned victim Bruce. Bruce on the sidelines looks at Clark like he's not real or just a fragment of his imagination because no one has ever stood up for him ever.
Bruce walks in on Clark shouting at the JL, and thinks about enacting one of his contingencies because Clark looks murderous. "Superman?" He asks, a hand on his belt, carefully stepping forward.
Clark glances at him, stiff, then down at his belt, and softens slightly. "I'm myself, Bruce," he sighs. "No kryptonite needed."
"Okay," Bruce agrees easily, and weaves through his teammates to Clark's side. "Report."
"It's nothing."
It's not nothing. He looks at his teammates, who won't meet his eyes, then back to Clark. "Talk to me. This is personal, isn't it?"
Clark's jaw grinds, and his eyes start to glow red again. "They were saying things. Things I wasn't going to stand by and listen to, I was just making that clear."
Bruce puts a hand up, and Clark closes his eyes, leaning into the touch and his palm gets uncomfortably warm from the barely suppressed rage about to burst from his boyfriend's eyes.
"I don't care what this League says behind my back, Clark," he soothes, and the room gets uncomfortably quiet. "We work smoothly as a team, that's all that matters. When it comes down to it, there's trust in each other to get the job done."
Clark grabs Bruce's hand, pulling it down, and glares at him with furious, blue eyes. "They—"
"Don't matter." Bruce's voice is level and firm, even if his insides feel light and fluttery because Clark is so protective over him. Defends him. Loves him.
Clark's eyes turn soft, and he brings his second hand up to hold Bruce's, rubbing his thumbs over Bruce's knuckles. "I don't want to listen to it. You don't deserve to have that said about you."
Bruce raises a brow, and feels a Brucie pout rise to his lips. "If someone's too cowardly to say it to my face, their words aren't worth my time."
Clark hums. "And I suppose they aren't worth my time either?"
"Got it in one," Bruce quips. "You know what is?"
Clark frowns.
"The date you skipped out on to yell at our coworkers." Clark blanches, and Bruce throws his head back with a laugh. That laugh turns strangled and he yelps as he's swung into the air. "Clark, no—"
The two of them disappear from the room in a blur, and it's left in silence as papers slowly float back down to the ground.
Clark is the biggest morning person on the whole planet, probably the whole universe. The second morning hits he’s happy to wake up and bathe in the morning sun.
Bruce however is the biggest morning hater, the biggest morning hater in the whole universe in fact. Now a normal person would think they would not do good together sharing a bed for the drastically different options, that’s where the normal person would be wrong.
Clark lets Bruce sleep through his morning, even preferring Bruce does that to catch up on missed sleep. He also loves to watch Bruce’s face as he sleeps, the slow up and down breathing from his chest and his arms reaching out for Clark to come closer every time he slightly shifts
It doesn't matter how early Clark wakes up, because he spends the first hour still in bed, watching Bruce sleep peacefully, letting his body and mind rest.
He just lays there, smiling as he strokes Bruce's cheek gently enough to not wake him up - smoothing any wrinkled disturbance off his forehead whenever Bruce dreams of something that brother him in his sleep.
It's usually enough to stop a nightmare from happening, and Bruce rolls further into him with a small sigh of content.
They always leave a gap in the curtains to let the first rays of sun in for Clark. The problem is, the sun on Bruce's skin always wakes him up.
Or it would be a problem if Clark didn't have a solution for that.
He always lays on the window side, using his body to block the light from reaching Bruce.
Two birds, one stone - he gets his morning sun warming his back, and Bruce can continue his sleep.
The higher the sun, the more light fall into the bedroom, so Clark needs to work harder to guard Bruce's sleep.
He has a solution for that, he just covers Bruce with his body, shielding him from the light and keeping him warm.
Bruce curls into him like a needy cat, holding onto him.
When it's finally time to get up, Clark closes the gap in the curtains before getting himself ready - quietly and in complete darkness of their bedroom.
Bruce is buried under the covers, only the top of his head sticking out from under it.
Clark kisses it before he leaves to work, wishing him a good morning and a good day.
Bruce only hums sleepily, blindly sticking out his hand from under the covers to grab Clark and hopefully pull him back into bed.
Clark takes it and kiss every knuckle, every finger, then puts the hand back under the covers before finally leaving, already missing Bruce.
