Oriana🪻 nerdy girl. huge bookworm. hopeless romantic. superheroe movies. movie lover. dc comics . fantasy movies. member of the pink lanterns corps. mcu. peter parker's gf
dex stronger than me because imagine you are Benjamin Poindexter, your parents DIED and your perfect game got RUINED so you KILLED your coach, you are MENTALLY ILL but your THERAPIST DIED, you turned to a stable job to keep you sane but they FIRED you and your HOMEGIRL GOT KILLED on top of being used by a BALD ASS MF. you are JOBLESS and FRIENDLESS and A FUGITIVE and BLOND and a BOTTOM and a SUB and your hot enemy keeps ORDERING YOU AROUND and you LIKE IT but he wants you DEAD also. now you work for the GOVERNMENT.
If daredevil producers could see this: we need dex all suited up, rubbing one out because he's been at the sniper post for hours and he's bored and the target won't show up, so bro literally has one hand on the rifle and the other down his pants I WANT HIM PATHETIC. GIVE ME THIS! I DEMAND IT!!!!
Picture this: a scenario where the JL doesn’t know Batman & Robin’s secret identities yet. Maybe they don’t even know if Robin is real or just a rumor online. And they’re discussing a time for their next meeting when Batman just interjects:
“Saturday won’t work for me. My son’s baseball team is having a bake sale.”
The entire room goes silent, because no one realized Batman even had a kid. Or went out in the daylight.
“What?” one of the others asks, still shocked.
“A bake sale,” Batman says slowly, like they’re all a little stupid. “It’s a fundraiser.”
“I know what a bake sale is! But since when do you have a kid?”
“Have you not met Robin?” he asks, sounding genuinely surprised. “He’s been to the Watchtower several times now.”
“Robin’s your kid?” gets asked first, followed closely by someone else asking, “Robin is real?”
“Can’t you just drop him off?” Superman asks, trying to calm the situation.
“Well I’m also the coach, so that probably wouldn’t be setting a very good example for the kids, Superman.”
“You’re the coach?” Someone asks.
“Yes.”
“Of a little league team?”
“Yes.”
“Are we in the Twilight Zone?” Hal whispers to Barry, who shushes him.
“Will Sunday work?” Superman asks quickly, wanting this to get resolved.
“So long as it’s over with by 4pm.”
“Why?”
“I told Robin I’d take him to the Gotham Knights game.”
Everyone’s heads are spinning. Batman is actually acting like a normal guy with a normal kid. This is not at all what they imagined he was like outside of the cowl. Some of them didn’t think he ever actually took the cowl off at all.
That Sunday, Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson are seen on TV arriving a little late to sit behind home plate at the Gotham Knights game. Dick, 9 years old, looks very grumpy about being late until Bruce gets him a giant ice cream to make up for the fact that his meeting ran long. It still takes a few years before the JL find out Bruce Wayne is Batman.
cw: kiss cam, hockey game (any canucks fans? its a rough life...), kissing a stranger, one (1) use of y/n
— based on this request
froggi yaps -> ugh i can't wait for hockey to start again!! every day i fight the urge to do a hockey player! au with the dc boys </3
The buzzer sounds, the time stops and the crowd roars. A grin falls over your face as music blares from the speakers. The energy in the arena tonight is electric, and even after the players skate off the ice, marking the end of the period, the air is practically buzzing with energy.
You settle into your seat, reaching for your drink while you watch the videos on the jumbotron. Your head bobs along to the music, the beer in your cup sloshing up on the sides.
It’s the usual intermission content—period recaps, player stats and the silly dance cam that always has you laughing. Of course, none of that holds a candle to your favorite intermission tradition: the kiss cam.
Nothing has your heart fluttering with butterflies like watching others fall in love. You watch excitedly as the familiar overlay takes over the screen—a mess of pink hearts and comic sans—and the camera cuts to people all around the arena.
An adorable older couple kiss with bashful blushes adorning their cheeks, the arena erupting into a chorus of awe. You drum your fingers on the side of your cup, watching with hearts in your eyes at all the loving couples.
The camera cuts away and suddenly you’re staring back at your own shocked face. Your eyebrows raise and you turn to the other person in frame—the redheaded man next to you.
He’s handsome, his hair perfectly messy and his muscles hidden under a baggy hockey jersey. There’s a toothy grin on his face, his freckled cheeks flushed. “Can I—can we?”
Before he can even react, you’re tugging on the collar of his jersey—coincidentally the one belonging to your favorite player—and smashing your lips against his.
A cacophony of cheers rises in the arena but you’re too focused on the stranger you’re kissing. You expected shock, maybe some resistance—but the man leans into it, moving his lips in sync with yours like he’s done it a thousand times.
The taste of grenadine is prominent on his lips and you can feel his face warming beneath your hand. You try to pull away but his hand finds the back of your neck, keeping you pressed against him a moment longer.
“Wow, ladies and gentlemen!” The announcer’s voice booms, “get a room!”
You pull away giggling, your own face feeling warmed. The man tilts his head at you, messy hair flopping over his face.
“At least buy me dinner first,” he jokes, mischief lighting up his green eyes.
“Are you asking me on a date?”
“That depends, is that a yes?”
You smile, “what are you doing after the game?”
“It’s a date.” He holds out a hand, “Wally, by the way.”
“Y/n.”
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tysm for reading & have a great day! /ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹
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