⁺༝ ꒰১ 𝒟𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠’𝐬 magical mailbox ໒꒱ ༝⁺: omg! my first anon letteeeeer. you have no idea how much this tiny milestone means to me! thank you so so much for your kind words anon. plus it only makes it even more speacial, that this is also your first request. gladly i will try to meet your wishes and write a tiny snippet. regarding the tooth rotting fluff: i think i kind off drifted into another direction story wise. sorry... anyways- here is your tiny story hihi <33 hope you will enjoy it, honey.

i tried my best hihi. please like and comment if you enjoy this tiny ficlet. anywayyyyssss ૮ ྀིᴗ͈ . ᴗ͈ ྀིა i should stop rambling.

₊꒷ ᨳ 𝒟𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠’𝐬 cozy snippet nook ₊˚⊹* 𐔌 . ⋮ 𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝒩𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝒮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱ ₊˚⊹* ₊⊹

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: Subsequent to Selina leaving him, even before walking down the aisle, Bruce ceased believing in his very own happy ever after for the Dark Knight. That is, until he met his very own Lampyridae, his sweet firefly, his Seirēn. A wonderful young woman who illuminated his seemingly gloomy and arcane labyrinthine path of self destructional vengeance, lucring him inro a sweet yet secret sanctuary. Now, brucce finally allowed his weary heart to fully embrace a new person, vowing never to let her go again. To offer her his last name, and with it, his entire weeping soul.

₊˚⊹* ₊⊹ 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 x reader

warnings & tags .ᐟ: sfw. pure fluff. no use of y/n. written with fem! reader in mind. no reader description. maybe ooc? no beta reader. Bruce being all over the place. Bruce having a few dark thoughts (?). i did not know how to end this sorryyyy. wrote this till almost 4 am. could be trash haha. selina mentioned. selina still burned in Bruce's mind (not too positive tho). Still learning how to tag!!. English is not my first language.

Every night he remembered the burning pain in his lungs, his chest, his very soul. The way he was stolen from death’s hands and shoved back into his broken body to be used and abused once more.

And you, his love. His fragile, sweet love who lay dead in his arms. It wouldn’t feel right to rip you away from your newfound peace like he was. To inflict the same suffering that he would only wish upon his worst enemies.

tojis halfway through a phone call when you climb onto the couch beside him, immediately curling into his side while he keeps talking, one arm stretched across the back of the cushions behind you and his phone pressed to his ear.

its something about money, something about work, something thats got his brows pulled together while he listens with that oh so familiar rough expression.

"yeah, I heard you," he mutters "then tell 'im I aint payin extra."

meanwhile, youre completely occupied with him.

your fingers find the side of his hair first, gently combing through the shorter strands near his temple while your cheek rests against his shoulder. toji keeps listening while you continue absent mindedly playing with him. your hand drifts lower, tracing the line of his jaw before finding his collar, smoothing it down and then fiddling with it again for no reason other than you just felt like touching it.

"because that aint what we agreed on." he says into the phone, voice steady despite the fact youve now moved on to his hands.

you turn one of them over in your lap, running your thumb along old scars and rough knuckles, tracing every line in his skin with a quiet concentration while the conversation continues.

the man on the other end keeps talking, and toji tries listening.

then your fingers slide to the rolled sleeves of his top, adjusting them before trailing slowly down his forearm, following the muscle there with light touches that dont mean much to you and mean everything to him.

his jaw tightens slightly. "yeah," he mutters into the phone, "mhm"

by now youve found his hand again, interwining your fingers with his, turning them, tracing the shape of his thumb while leaning a little more heavily into his side.

youre not even looking at him, youre just happy sitting there, all soft and sweet, quietly occupying yourself with whatever part of him happens to be within your reach.

the silence on the other end of the call stretches.

"...you still there?" the guy asks.

toji blinks once, realizing he hasnt heard a godamn thing for the last minute. his eyes drop to you where youre curled against him, happily playing with his fingers while resting your cheek on his shoulder.

"yeah." he says "keep talkin."

but his free hand is already settling over yours, thumb brushing across your knuckles while he looks down at you for a second longer than necessary, then he leans over and presses a rough distracted kiss against the top of your head without interrupting the call, squeezing your hand once before settling back into the couch.

toji still isnt listening to the man on the phone, not with you tucked into his side playing with his hair, his sleeves, his hands, every soft little touch way too distracting.

taglist: @@jjakeysheart @rkivesvs7 @c6choso @shea354 @kiwicherry04 @choco-chipp @tojibunnyy @tojisgdgirl @xoxocherrybabyy @dearwyn @pigtaileddolliee @tojiful @heartcandyslxt @lisabelhyhn @chaeisrichnow @chewiebee @tojisfiancee @retiredpanda @bbvvvy @princesplatano @jaehyunsleftnut @lightandfuryauthor @fysalia @alinacoke @ssrist @bl1ndv3lvet @lisa200976 @vheartsfushi @amarislovesmcdonalds @1ana22 @cherrieslovess @arcanehellokittyforlife69 @lov-3-x @str4wb3rrylife @whoiskaykay @sugurusbun @tojioppshotta @yumyumyu @yvesapple4 @733164 @peonysecret @pr1ncessthug @magicalpeenpoo @unknownowlbokutoswifeyy @eepynataly @bowiesprettieststar2 @bagleaf @lacedwithsarcasm @wholemeltt @ipoopedmypants47

Summary - Dick and you have been dating for a couple months so he decides to start telling his family, with your permission, while you are off world. Only no one believes him. Thus begins a month of Dick trying and failing to convince a family of detectives that he has a girlfriend.

Event Masterlist

"Do you have to go?" Dick whines and flops back onto your bed dramatically next to you.

"Sadly I can't blow off an incoming space war for you." You laugh and push at his shoulder. "I will hopefully be back in about a month."

He sighs, letting his head lean back against the pillow so he can stare up at your ceiling, "I wish you didn't have to be so absent lately."

The humor on your face melts away into something softer as you fix some of his curls that have fallen into his face. He looks over at you with a longing that has sat in his chest for years.

"I asked for more time off so hopefully I will start working closer to home. After that I will be around more and I can finally meet your family properly."

Jason Todd x Reader

Synopsis: Just Jason being a girl dad hehe

Jason Todd Masterlist Main Masterlist

----------

"Daddy, can you come to my school for take your parent to school day?" your daughter's sweet voice rang out from the dining table, paired with coffee being spat onto the floor.

You were standing in the kitchen with Jason beside you who was holding a cup of coffee in one hand, while wiping his mouth with the other His green eyes wide in surprise that you were trying hard to stifle the laugh that was bubbling up your throat.

"Uh, what was that peanut?" Jason asked, glaring at you slightly as you shrugged at him.

"I said," answered your daughter only this time, small footsteps came stomping into the kitchen. Small fists clenched by her sides as she looked up at her dad with a pout. "Come to my school for take your parent to school day!"

Jason blinked once. Twice.

Then he looked at you, looked back at your daughter, and finally set his coffee mug down before he could commit any further crimes against the kitchen floor.

"Take your parent to school day?" he repeated carefully.

"Yes!" your daughter threw her hands into the air as if she couldn't believe he wasn't keeping up. "Everybody gets to bring a parent to school."

A smile tugged at your lips, eyes softening at the sight of your daughter mildly frustrated. "I think she means bring your parent to school day." You whispered, nudging Jason with your shoulder.

"That's what I said!" she blurted.

Jason chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No, peanut, you definitely didn't. You said taking your parent to school."

"No I didn't!"

"Did too."

"Didn't."

"Did too!"

"Daddy!" your daughter yelled, tears welling in her eyes that reminded you so much of Jason.

Speaking of Jason, he was already crouching down to the floor the moment the tears started to appear. Hands placed on her tiny shoulders as his thumb brushed her cheek.

"Hey, hey, hey." Jason's voice softened immediately, all traces of teasing gone. "There's no need for that."

A tear slipped down her cheek despite her best efforts to hold it back. Sniffling softly as she rubbed her eyes.

"You were making fun of me," she mumbled.

Jason's face fell, lips pressed into a thin line.

"Oh, peanut." He gently tipped her chin up so she'd look at him. "I wasn't making fun of you. I was teasing you."

"That's the same thing."

"It is not."

"It is too."

Jason immediately glanced up at you for help, looking completely betrayed when you failed to hide your smile.

"Mommy?" he asked dramatically.

You shook your head, ruffling his dark hair. "You got yourself into this mister."

"Wow, always knew you only used me for my looks."

"Watch it Todd, or I might have to tell our daughter here what really happened to the cookie dough ice cream last week." you warned with amusement.

Exhaling sharply through his nose, Jason let his head fall for a moment -shoulders slumped - before gazing up at your daughter again. "Alright, throw me the details. When is it?"

"It's next Friday."

"What time?"

"After recess."

"Will we be reading?"

"Yup!"

"Finger painting?"

She nodded excitedly.

"What about...Math." Jason groaned mockingly.

"Of course!"

"Oh, but what if daddy isn't very good at math?"

Your daughter shook her head, cupping his face with hands that barely covered even half his cheek.

"Don't worry, I'll help you!" She reassured him. "So will you come?"

Jason smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear as he responded without hesitation. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Your daughter's entire face lit up.

"Really?"

"Really." Jason nodded. "I'll even do the math."

She giggled, throwing her arms around his neck so hard he nearly lost his balance.

"Whoa!" He laughed, holding her tightly. "Careful there. Daddy's not as young as he used to be."

"I know! That's why you have white hair right here." your daughter stated, pointing at the white strand at the front of his hair.

summary; jason constantly avoids telling you where his white streak came from, or when he does, he makes something up

masterlist

toji fushiguro was never not tired. he always had bags underneath his eyes, his hair was always disheveled, and there was never a time he looked put together in university. which was strange considering he was mostly older than the other people there.

and group projects were the bane of his existence. and having been paired with you—the girl who insisted on getting to know him despite his notorious reputation, with absolutely zero intentions of minding your own business, he knew he was doomed the second you’d set foot in his apartment.

in hindsight, he should’ve offered to go to your place—you’d made some excuse saying your roommates had band practice and that’d it’d be too loud to focus so his place it was.

you rang the doorbell, giddy, because you’d finally been given the opportunity to get to know toji handed to you.

but poor toji, having his mind entirely clouded, had completely forgotten you’d be coming over, opening the door with megumi swaddled in his arms while he wailed at the top of his lungs.

“hey toji—oh.”

“oh. you were coming over today.”

“is that—”

“yeah it’s my brat.”

of all the theories you’d made up in your brain, toji having a little chubby baby with a temper was not one of them.

“is your girlfriend or wife home—”

“don’t have one.”

“m sorry.”

it was awkward painfully so, the only noises filling up the silence was megumi trashing around in toji’s arms while throwing a fit.

“do you mind if i—”

he dropped megumi into your arms almost instantly, moving to collapse onto his couch, groaning into his hands like the world was crushing him.

you slowly cooed at megumi, humming him a song you remembered from your childhood while megumi babbled on, slowly blinking while sleep started to take him over.

“ma…ma..mama” he tried to babble, his tiny arms trying to reach your face, grabbing at the air while trying to squish your cheeks.

“oh i’m not—nevermind.” you continued to sway him, slowly sitting at the edge of the couch while toji tried to fight off sleep, staring at you with a look in his eyes that was almost tender while you put megumi to sleep.

“you need to get some rest too toji, you look like a ghost.”

“you aren’t gonna tell anyone about this right.”

“my lips are sealed.”

“thank you.”

“get some sleep, the project can wait.”

megumi was fast asleep in your arms, toji curled up by your side, softly snoring, the two black haired men slumbering as if they’d never been graced with sleep before. of all the secrets he could’ve kept, you never imaged that he had a whole kid he somehow managed to take care of while no one knew about it. and you’d made a silent promise to help him out. besides, it took a village to raise a child right?

and who wouldn’t want to spoil a little pudgy baby and have a greek god of a man curl up next to you like a cat? megumi already seemed to think you were his mom anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to help just a little.

more fluff. last drabble for now until i actually write

You lay stretched out on the couch with a hot water bag pressed to your lower abdomen while Toji kneaded slow circles into the arch of your foot. Your period had been brutal this month: cramps, mood swings, the whole kit.

Megumi sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the TV, unusually quiet as he watched The Lion King. It was technically Megumi’s first time seeing it… though Toji insisted he was only watching because Megumi wanted to (it was his favorite Disney film.)

You were completely absorbed in the movie, eyes fixed on the screen as the stampede scene ended.

Then it happened.

Simba nudged his father’s still body, tiny voice trembling as he tried to wake him up.

Your chest tightened immediately. Tears burning your eyes, and you sniffed quietly, blaming the hormones.

But then—

A soft sniffle came from the floor.

You blinked and looked down. Megumi had turned around, his lip wobbling, eyes glossy and full.

“Are you okay, baby?” you asked gently, pushing yourself up. You opened your arms for him.

That was all it took.

Megumi’s face crumpled and he ran straight into your chest, burying his face in your shirt as the tears finally spilled over.

And somehow, that made your tears fall too.

“Oh—oh no,” Toji muttered from beside you.

He stared at the two of you like you were aliens. Megumi sniffled loudly against your shirt while you rubbed his back, your own eyes watery.

“I know, Gumi,” you murmured softly. “It’s really sad.”

“The movie’s not even over yet!” Toji protested helplessly. “He’ll be fine!”

Neither of you listened.

Megumi just clung tighter, and your shoulders shook with quiet tears.

Toji dragged a hand down his face, “What the hell..”

He leaned forward and, with ridiculous ease, he scooped you both up, pulling you onto his lap.

“C’mere, you crybabies,” he grumbled.

Megumi curled into your side while you rested against Toji’s chest, and before you knew it his big hand was rubbing your back while the other rested on Megumi’s head.

“You two are unbelievable,” he muttered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Megumi’s head… then another to your head.

“Just let it out, I guess.”

After a few minutes the sniffles died down, Megumi’s breathing evening out as he stayed tucked against you.

Toji sighed and leaned his head back against the couch.

“I swear,” he grumbled quietly, still absentmindedly stroking your hair, “I live with a bunch of weirdos.”

But he didn’t let either of you go.

includes: dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake

summary: you wake up you boyfriend in the middle of the night because you're hungry

word count: dick - 804, jason - 597, tim - 581

warnings/tags: sfw, fem!reader, established relationship, fluff, use of pet names, no y/n

dick grayson

You turn around for the 30th time in the past hour trying to get comfortable in bed, but it again isn't working. You’re facing your boyfriend who's fast asleep next to you and study the pattern of his breathing in hopes that it will lull you to sleep, but your inability to get comfortable isn’t due to the mattress or the pillow or even the temperature of the room–It's the fact you're starving. 

You had a quick lunch today, but got held up late at work and weren't able to eat dinner. By the time you got home, all you wanted to do was take a hot shower and then go to sleep with Dick’s warm body pressing against your back, but when you laid down, you felt that hunger strike again. 

Thinking you could just brush it off was apparently the wrong choice, because now you're stuck with Dick’s arms pressing you against his chest, while you debate how you’re gonna slip out without waking the vigilante. Ever so slowly you pull away from his chest while lifting his arm to slip out unnoticed. You’re far enough away from him that you let yourself exhale the breath you were holding in as you set his arm back on the mattress, and just as you thought you successfully went unnoticed, you feel his arm wrap back around you and pull you against him again.

“Where’re you going?” His voice was thick with exhaustion, filling you with immediate guilt for waking him up.

“Sorry for waking you. Go back to sleep, Dickie.” 

“Mmm, don’t leave.” He presses a lazy kiss to the exposed skin of your collarbone.

“I’ll be right back, I'm just hungry.” As if on cue, your stomach grumbles loud enough for him to hear and he pulls back slightly to look at you with a heavy lidded gaze. 

“When’s the last time you ate?”

You look down to mess with a loose thread attached to the comforter. “Lunch,” you admit quietly, “But I was super busy at work and didn't have time to eat, then when I got home I just wanted to sleep, but now that it’s night time I’m more hungry than I thought and can’t fall asleep.” 

You watch as he slowly pushes himself to sit up on the bed and stretch his back. “What do you want?”

“What?”

“To eat.” 

“No, Dick, it's fine I can make myself something. 

“I know you can make yourself food, pretty girl, but I want to do it for you instead. So, tell me what you want to eat.”

The moonlight shining through the window in your bedroom gives the chance to see the earnest way he's looking at you, and just when you thought you couldn’t fall more in love with Dick Grayson, you feel yourself tumbling all over again. 

“Uh–I guess waffles sound good?” 

“Do you want bacon with it?” 

You’re about to shake your head no, not wanting to cause more of a hassle for him, but bacon does sound really good. “If that's okay.” 

He smiles brightly at you as he climbs over you to get out of bed. “Yeah, that's okay, pretty girl.” Haley wakes from her own sleep at the end of the bed from the commotion, looking between you and Dick before deciding it unworthy of her attention then laying her head back against your feet. 

You move your feet to slip out from under the covers to follow Dick to the kitchen, when he presses a gentle kiss to your temple while pushing you back into the bed. “Stay here. Don't want you to lift a finger.”

He’s gone before you can protest, turning on the hallway light with him. You lie back down and face the wall listening to the sounds of mixing, sizzling, and the occasional mumbled curse from the kitchen. After about 15 minutes the smell of bacon wafts into the bedroom enough for Haley to recognize it and hop off the bed in search of any pieces that Dick will give her. 

Another ten minutes pass when you finally hear the familiar creak of the bedroom door swinging open again. With both hands Dick is holding a wooden tray that’s holding a plate with two waffles, a side plate of bacon, a bowl of fruit, and even a glass of orange juice. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m hungry but not that hungry,” you laugh as he places the tray onto your lap.

“I know, that’s why I brought two forks.” He smiles as he takes one of the strips of bacon off the plate and arranges himself under the sheets to sit up next to you.

“Thank you for this.” You rest your head on his broad shoulder as you reach for your own piece.

“Next time I’ll make you a full thanksgiving feast.” 

jason todd

Jason's arm is wrapped around your middle with your back pressed against his chest. He fell asleep an hour ago, but you just weren’t tired, so you reached for your phone and started to scroll on tiktok quietly. You were getting the usual videos on your feed–book recommendations, edits, and reality TV clips–but paused when you came across a video of a woman waking her husband up at three in the morning and asking him to make food for her. 

It was an innocent enough prank, so you turn your phone off and set it aside, then turn to face Jason. You admire the rare softness of his face while he's sleeping, before gently running your hand up and down his arm to wake him. Almost immediately, his training kicks in and his eyes snap awake to run over your face looking for any sign of panic or pain. 

“What?” 

“I’m hungry, Jay.”

His shoulders relax slightly and he pulls you closer against him. “We have ramen in the pantry.”

“But an omelette sounds really good right now and you know I’m terrible at making them.”

“Seriously?” His voice is gruff against your skin.

You just nod, hiding your smile against his chest. You feel the sharp rise and fall of his chest as he lets out a deep breath, before tossing the comforter off himself, making sure it stays around you, and mumbles, "I'll be back.”

Just as he’s about to step onto the floor, you start giggling and grab his arm to stop him. “It was just a joke Jay. I saw a tiktok of a girl doing it to her husband and wanted to see if you’d do it for me.”

He gives you a glare that holds no heat behind it. “You woke me up because of a… tiktok?”

“I’m sorry,” you say while still laughing quietly.

He steps out of bed and lifts his arms above his head in a stretch. “Well now I’m hungry so I’m still gonna go make that omelet.” He moves quickly as he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, ignoring your yelp of surprise thats quickly followed by protests, and walks out of the bedroom and toward the kitchen.

“Hey! Put me down, Jay!”

“Nope. You started this, so now you’re finishing it with me.”

“But it's cold and the bed was so warm!”

He gently places you on the counter next to the stove, slips off the slightly battered hoodie he was wearing, and helps you into it. “There, all warm now.” 

Leaving him in just sweatpants that rest low on his waist, your gaze lingers on his torso, then flicks around to the familiar marred skin on his body. As much as he hates them, you’ve memorized every scar that rests on his body like a map of constellations because to you they show his resilience and how strong he is for surviving everything he’s been through. 

He starts getting the pan ready then mixing the eggs together with the other ingredients. The quiet sound of the eggs sizzling surrounds you both as he starts to cook the two omelets, his attention half on the food and half on you. He reaches for your hand and carefully intertwines his calloused fingers with yours, only removing them when he has to flip the omelette, just to quickly return back. 

Once finally done, he plates them, handing one to you and then taking the spot next to you on the counter and taking a bite of his own omelette. “Thank you, Jaybird.”

“Mhm. Your welcome, baby,” he whispers as he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. 

tim drake

Taking a deep breath, you slowly blink your eyes open, starting to wake up. As you squint, trying to adjust to the darkness of the room, you catch sight of the clock on the bedside table reading 3:36am. Geez. You faintly remember dreaming about sitting at a table with a mouthwatering burger in front of you, but before you were able to take the bite, you woke up. 

You’re annoyed you woke up because now you’re craving a burger at three in the morning. You sigh quietly and turn around expecting to see Tim fast asleep with his lips slightly parted, but instead, a dull light illuminates his face as he stares down at the laptop, his eyes flying across the screen. The bluelight glasses you bought him for his birthday are pushed to the top of his head. 

“Y’know the whole point of those glasses is to wear them while staring at a screen, right?” You hear your own exhaustion lingering in your tone.

He turns and looks down at you with a sheepish smile then carefully moves them off his forehead and back onto the bridge of his nose. “What are you doing up, love?” 

You sigh dramatically and wrap an arm around his stomach then curl against his side to steal his body heat. “I dreamt of a burger and now I want a burger.”

A soft laugh spilled out of him, surrounding the space between you both. “Oh yeah?” 

You nod, “Why are you awake? Thought you were gonna actually sleep tonight?”

He looks back at the laptop. “I was just finishing up this case. I’m super close to figuring everything out.”

You stare up at him and the bags that consistently linger under his eyes. Gently, you push the laptop off his lap and onto the side of the bed before taking the spot on top of him, using his chest as your new pillow. “Maybe you should take a break and go to bed, Tim.” 

“I’m not even tired.”

You lift your head to look at him, “When did you drink your last redbull?”

“Like… an hour ago.” 

Sighing softly, you rethink your strategy, because he's not gonna fall asleep soon when he drank caffeine not too long ago. “Okay. Then how about we go grab burgers instead?” 

“I really gotta do this cas–”

“Please, Tim. One break won’t kill you and I wasn't kidding when I said I was craving a burger, so if anything you’d be doing this for me.”

He stares down at you for a couple of seconds, likely weighing the pros and cons in his head, before sighing and gently rolling you off him. “Alright, come on.”

You smile brightly at him as you toss on one of his sweatshirts and follow him out of your shared apartment and to his car. The car drive isn’t long with the nearest Bat Burger only being a couple minutes away. Neither of you talk on the drive there, letting the quiet music play through the speakers, while he keeps his hand intertwined with yours next to the gearshift.  

Once getting to the restaurant, he orders your usual meal without even needing to ask you and then gets himself some food as well. “Thank you, Tim,” you whisper as you lean over the console to place your head against his arm.

He smiles and presses a kiss to your nose, cheek, then temple. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure this was your plan all along.” 

Summary: Jason wait for you at a restaurant, only to realize you’re not coming. As he’s about to go home, you run up to him with soaked clothes and a good explanation.

content: this is fluff, maybe a little whumpy in the middle, reader and jason kiss (their first kiss!!), could be gn!reader but witten with fem!reader in mind, reader fits in jason’s clothes/is smaller than jason (in my mind jason is massive so anybody is smaller than him, even if your thic)

a/n: realizing a lot of my fics include ordering food with jason, actually I wanted to make them still eat at the restaurant but them going home felt easier. english is not my first language, my whole writing process is basically looking up synonyms. this is also not proofread. please don’t be afraid to like, reblog and comment! 💌

────୨ৎ────

“Okay, you got this.” Jason sighs, staring at himself in the small mirror of the restaurant the two of you decided to meet at, which he’s noticeably too tall for by the way his back is bend to catch the upper half of his face.

With a deep breath, he turns and pushes the door open, making his way back to the table he’s been seated at by the waiter when he first walked in. He sits down, facing the booth opposite him, pulling out his phone to check the time. Five minutes until seven pm, the time you both agreed to meet.

He shuts his phone off and stuffs it back into his pocket, anxiously tapping his fingers on the edge of the table. Jason knew he had no tangible reason to be nervous. It was just you.

But it was also you. His best friend. His person. The one who’s been by his side the last few years, who made coming back into his old life easier, who made his new life worth living. And he had finally gotten the courage to confess his feelings and ask you on an date. A real date; not one of your typical hangouts.

The minutes fly by while he waits, and he tries not to check his phone again as he watches the rain start to fall and splat again the windows of the restaurant, slowl descending in small rivulets.

After what feels like forever and a day, he checks his phone again, reading the time. It’s now ten minutes past your designated time. Ten minutes is fine, right? Maybe you were just running late. You’d be here any moment. You had to be.

But after more time passing, the waiter asking for the countless time if his date is still coming, offering him a basket of bread with pity all over their face, Jason starts to doubt that you’re coming.

Instead, he glares at the bread he silently accepted, trying to tell himself that you wouldn’t stand him up. You would have at least let him down honestly, and not lead him on.

Time flies, and before he knows it, Jason has been sat there for over an hour. His jaw clenched, he throws a five dollar bill on the table before making his way out of the restaurant, ignoring the pitying stares of the staff.

The rain has heavily intensified when he steps out, so he stands there for a moment, realizing that you, his best friend, didn’t seem to like him that much after all. He was so stupid.

He debates waiting it out, but decides he just wants to go home, stuff himself full with one of his shitty frozen meals and don’t speak to anyone for the next week.

As he takes the first step, his head snaps up when he hears a call of his name. Turing to look down the sidewalk, he spots you, running towards him with wet strands of hair clinging to your face, your outfit completely soaked.

You stop in front of him, trying to catch your breath like you just ran a marathon. “You’re still here.” you state, panting as you place a hand over your beating heart.

Jason watches you, your chest rising up and down as your eyes search for any indication in his face that he’s mad at you.

“I‘m really sorry.” you exhale. “I swear I left my apartment on time! But then my neighbor, you know the old lady, she needed help and I tried to tell her I needed to go but she insisted and that I missed my bus and so I ordered an Uber and he was a really weird guy and then we got stuck in traffic so I just ran the last block.” you finish rambling, now even more out of breath than before, if that was even possible.

He stares at you, a million thoughts running through his head. But he speaks the most prominent. “You ran an entire block, in the rain, just so you could still make it here, even if you didn’t know if I had left already?“

You swallow, nodding in agreement. “Yes.”

“You hate running.” he states.

“Yes.” you agree once again.

An unexpected smile spreads on his lips, and even a soft, small laugh escapes him as he shakes his head. “You’re stupid.”

“Yes.” you agree for a third time, a smile matching his own now on your face, mirroring his. “But you like me anyways… right?”

Jason is silent for a moment, his gaze scanning across your face, watching you look up at him, smile of your face, cheeks warm, hair sticking to your face. God, does he like you.

“Let’s go home and order dinner.” he tells you, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders.

You look up at him confused as you pull the jacket closer around you, your senses filling up with his scent. “What about our date?”

He wraps his arm across your shoulders, beginning to move forward on the sidewalk. “We can do it at my place.”

After arriving at his place, Jason sends you to the bathroom with a change of his clothes to take a shower, wanting you to warm up from the rain while he orders food for the two of you.

You step out of the bathroom to find sitting on his sofa, now in sweatpants and a dark tshirt, while you’re in one of his hoodies and a pair of basketball shorts you had to tie really tightly so they won’t fall down as soon as you take a step.

He pats the space next to him, inviting you to sit next to him. It’s quiet for a beat, then you break the silence. “I’m really sorry, Jay.”

He shakes his head as he turns to face you. “It’s okay, really. At least I know you didn’t stand me up.”

He says it with a small huff, similar to a laugh, but you can tell there’s something deeper underneath it. “I would never stand you up, Jay. I really wanted to go on that date with you.” you explain. “And I still really want to.”

His gaze lingers on yours, slipping down to your lips before quickly meeting your eyes again. “I still want it, too.” he admits softly.

It’s so quiet you swear he could hear your heartbeat right now. You watch his face, and you notice that the two of you have neared closer, your thigh now touch his, your hand only a movement away. Before you know what comes over you, you speak what on your mind. “Can I kiss you?”

Jason is stunned, but he’s nodding and moving forward before he even really realizes what that actually means. You close the gab, pressing your lips to his in a soft, vulnerable kiss. His lips feel slightly chapped against yours, but you don’t care, enjoying the feeling and taste of him.

After a few seconds, it’s already over, and both of you are suddenly shy and blushing like little kids. “That was nice.” you breathe out, tongue poking out to lick across your lips.

“Yeah.” he breathes out the same as you, a little dazed, before a grin spread across his face. A matching smile crosses your mouth as you lean into him, enjoying the silence of his apartment, the only sound being the occasional siren of an ambulance or something rattling from the alleyway beside his apartment.

Jason Todd X Reader

“Just the usual for you two?”

The elderly couple – Margie and Paul – both smile at you before they nod. Paul holds out the unopened menus to you and once you grab them, you head your way towards the kitchen. Pushing the door to the kitchen open, you’re immediately greeted with the familiar sizzling of patties and rhythmic chopping of lettuce.

“Hey Johnny, the usual for Marge and Paul in booth six!”

A quick ‘yep yep’ is thrown back at you in acknowledgement before you’re grabbing the ketchup and mustard bottle for booth two, and heading out the kitchen again.

The lunch rush had extended into a dinner rush at the diner tonight, but with all the good staff on, things were going exceptionally well, and tips were looking fantastic. 

Approaching booth two, you set down the mustard and ketchup, the two teenage girls both quick to thank you before you’re headed towards the reception to put in Marge and Paul’s order – with a heavy discount – into the machine. The machine spits out a receipt and you stuff it into your apron pocket with the rest of the miscellaneous rubbish.

The bell at the top of the door rings signifying new customers, and you look up and – Holy fucking shit.

Your jaw practically unhinges as the one and only Red Hood stands in front of the counter you’re situated behind, head tilted up, casually scanning the menu. 

pairing: jason todd x reader

summary: jason and reader go for a ride on his motorcycle, but end up getting into a crash

word count: 2.2k

warnings/tags: sfw, cursing, car crash, angst, comfort, fluff, fem!reader, mentions of injuries, no y/n

The low light of the lamp lit the room enough for you to make out the words inked onto the page of your book. The TV playing in the background was loud enough to fill the quiet of the apartment while you waited for Jason to come home from patrol. He was supposed to be home 2 hours ago, but the door has remained locked since he left this morning. 

You’ve been on the same page of your book for the past ten minutes–none of the words truly sinking in because you’ve been stuck worrying about your boyfriend's safety. Usually he’s able to let you know if he’ll be late, but tonight, there wasn’t even a text. You give up, tossing aside the book and instead choose to sit on the fire escape to watch over the city with hopes of seeing a glimpse of his familiar red. 

The wind nips at your cheeks and you pull the hood of Jason’s old hoodie over your hair to protect from the cold. His scent envelopes you as you gaze at the broken city below your feet. You whip your head around at the sound of a lock turning from inside the house, and crawl back through the open window, and toward the front door. 

Jason steps inside the quiet apartment and catches your eye immediately. His shoulders are hunched, his brow set in a furrow, and overall looks utterly defeated. You don’t care to wait for him to toe off his boots before walking into his arms to mold your body against his.  

“You were gone.”

Scenarios(you pick, or none).

1. The boys find out reader actually has a few of the dc comics under her bed that somehow managed to cross over to Gotham with her after her shopping trip to the craft store and the comic book store to get the new releases of absolute Batman comics. Chaos ensues as the boys want to read them and finds out about baby suit joker(Jason has nightmares for a week). (Maybe Bruce finds the “Batman who laughs” comic at the bottom of the bag and reads it and is now horrified.)

2. Damian finds out he is readers most favorite Robin despite the other boys protests on why they should be her favorite Robin,(she even makes the “if Damian dies I’m killing everyone in this room and then myself” joke), (Reason? He’s the only Robin that carries a sword and that’s cool in her book.) also Jason finds out the reason he got killed by the joker was because 5k kids in the 80s called a phone number poll that dc comics set up to vote weather Robin should die or live in the next release and that him dying won out by 72 votes.

3. Tim finds out that there was a 3 season animated series about the original teen titans in readers universe and Tim is devastated that he won’t ever get to watch that show. (Dick finds out that reader thought he was the “least cool” member of the teen titans when the showed aired.)

4. Bruce finds out from a slip of the tongue by reader that Damian mighttttt, actually have an older sibling somewhere after Talia told Bruce that the baby was miscarried and instead she put the baby up for adoption. (But reader insists that the child probably doesn’t exist cause the story was retconned after Damian was created.)

5. Reader accidentally solved a mystery Tim and Bruce were puzzled over for a month after she just takes one look at it and mentions “oh no, that guy didn’t kill them, it was actually the other guy. You’re being led astray. Wait, was it? No I think- no, no, it was! …..or maybe not.” And Tim restrains himself from wanting to strangle reader on weather the “guy” they been tracking down for 2 weeks is the true murderer or not.

6. Reader actually gets kidnapped by the joker and held hostage, reader stumps joker when she says his government name and refuses to elaborate why or how she knows so much about him. Joker is understandably, pretty creeped out by reader and doesn’t find the whole hostage thing funny anymore and just lets reader go, and reader just walks out the building the bat fam was about to storm in to rescue her.

ok so I changed it up a bit to the point where they don't know yet so it can be more funny

Controlled Chaos

navigation , dc navigation

requests are open

It has been a while since you had taken this knew identity. Living a life you have read about in the past, being a part of it. The file you had made for yourself seemed airtight, posing as a genius and pretending to be one, when in reality you just had too much prior knowledge of everything. The hardest part was to be calm and not give away too much information, no matter how much you wanted to help them, and when you did they were losing their minds. Just like this case that has been bugging them for sometime now.

"It was definitely Marchetti," Tim said, staring at the evidence board with the intensity of someone who'd been awake for thirty-six hours straight. Which he had been. "The timeline matches, the motive is there—"

"Except Marchetti was in Coast City when the murder happened," you said from where you were perched on the edge of the Batcave's main console, flipping through the case file. "His alibi is airtight."

"Alibis can be faked—"

"Not this one. He was on live television. I checked." You looked up. "Oh, and that guy you've been tracking for two weeks? Not the murderer."

The entire Cave went silent.

"What," Bruce said slowly, "did you just say?"

"The guy you're tracking isn't the killer. It was actually the other guy—Salvatore's brother. The one you ruled out because he was supposedly in prison? Yeah, he got released six months ago on a technicality but it wasn't widely reported. He killed Marchetti's accountant as revenge for testifying against him, made it look like a mob hit to throw you off." You paused. "Wait, was it Salvatore's brother? No, I think—no, no, it was! ...Or maybe not."

Tim made a strangled sound. "We've been working this case for TWO WEEKS—"

"Yeah, I know. I've been watching." You turned a page. "You were on the right track initially, but then you got distracted by the Marchetti connection and missed the prison release records. Easy mistake."

"Easy mistake," Tim repeated faintly.

"How do you know about the prison release?" Bruce asked, his Batman voice in full effect.

"I checked? It's public record. Well, technically it's sealed record, but public enough if you know where to look." You tilted your head. "You guys were so focused on the complicated conspiracy angle that you missed the simple revenge plot. Classic misdirection."

Dick was staring at you like you'd grown a second head. "You solved in five minutes what we've been working on for two weeks?"

"Well, I've been thinking about it for like three days. I just looked at the file today to confirm." You frowned down at the papers. "Although now I'm second-guessing myself. Was it the brother or the cousin? They both had motive..."

"I'm going to have an aneurysm," Tim said.

Jason, who'd been watching from the corner with poorly concealed amusement, started laughing. "Oh man, Timmy got out-detected by the newbie."

"She's not a detective, she's a—" Tim stopped. "What are you, exactly?"

You shrugged. "Bored, mostly. And observant. You guys talk about your cases a lot, and I pay attention."

"You solved a two-week investigation by passively listening to us talk?" Bruce's eye was twitching slightly.

"Is that... bad?"

"No, it's—" Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. "We need to have a conversation about information security."

"But first," Dick said, grinning now, "we need to confirm if it was the brother or the cousin."

"Brother," you decided. "Definitely the brother. The cousin was in Europe. I think. Actually, now I'm not sure again..."

"ORACLE," Tim barked into his comm. "I need you to check prison release records for anyone connected to the Salvatore family in the last year—"

"Already on it," Barbara's voice came back, amused. "And she's right. Salvatore's brother, Marco, was released six months ago. Charges dropped on a technicality. He matches the physical description of the suspect in the Marchetti accountant murder."

The silence in the Batcave was deafening.

"Huh," you said. "So it was the brother. Cool."

Tim slowly turned to look at you. "You just... you casually solved a murder investigation that three of the world's greatest detectives have been working on for two weeks."

"When you put it that way, it sounds impressive. But really, you guys did all the hard work. I just noticed the thing you missed because you were too close to it." You hopped off the console. "Anyway, I'm gonna go make a sandwich. Anyone want one?"

"I want answers," Tim said. "How did you—what's your process—do you have some kind of meta ability we don't know about—"

"I just looked at what you were looking at and thought about it differently?" You were already heading toward the stairs. "You were looking for complicated. I looked for simple. Sometimes the obvious answer is the right one."

After you left, the four of them just stood there.

"So," Jason said finally, "we keeping her or what?"

"She's not a stray cat, Jason," Bruce said.

"Could've fooled me. She showed up, made herself at home, and is now better at our job than we are."

"She's not better—" Tim stopped. "Okay, in this specific instance, she was better. But that doesn't mean—"

"She solved in three days what you couldn't solve in two weeks."

"It was a lucky guess!"

"Was it though?" Dick was grinning. "Because I'm starting to think we might have accidentally acquired a genius."

"She's not a genius, she's just—" Bruce paused. "Actually, Barbara, pull up her file."

"Already did," Barbara said. "You're gonna love this. Genius-level IQ, photographic memory, pattern recognition off the charts. She was flagged by three separate universities for early admission before she was even sixteen."

"Then why is she here instead of at university?" Bruce asked.

"Because she turned them all down. Said higher education was 'boring' and she'd 'rather learn by doing.'" Barbara paused. "She's been auditing your case files for entertainment, apparently."

"Our case files are classified—"

"Yeah, she hacked those about two weeks after moving in. I've been monitoring. She doesn't distribute or misuse the information, just reads them like novels."

"And you didn't think to MENTION THIS?" Tim's voice had gone up an octave.

"I figured you'd notice eventually," Barbara said, completely unrepentant. "Besides, it's been hilarious watching her casually drop information that you all missed."

Jason was still laughing. "Oh man, this is the best thing that's happened all month."

"This is a security nightmare," Bruce said.

"This is an opportunity," Dick corrected. "She's brilliant, she's already here, and she clearly has good instincts. We should train her properly."

"Absolutely not—"

"Bruce, she just solved a case that stumped Tim, you, and Oracle. In three days. While barely trying." Dick crossed his arms. "That's not luck. That's talent."

"That's dangerous," Bruce countered. "She's seventeen—"

"I was younger than that when you took me in," Jason pointed out.

"So was I," Dick added.

"And I," Damian said, appearing from wherever he'd been lurking. "Though I maintain I needed no training, as I was already perfect."

"Not helping, Demon Spawn," Tim muttered.

Bruce looked at all of them, then up at the Cave ceiling like he was asking for divine intervention. "One. One calm child. That's all I asked for."

"Sorry, B," Dick said, not sounding sorry at all. "You keep adopting chaos gremlins. This one just happens to be a chaos gremlin with detective skills."

"I'm not adopting—she's just staying here temporarily—"

"Sure," Jason said. "Temporarily. Like all of us."

The Joker situation happened three weeks later.

You were on your way back from the library—because despite having access to the Batcave's extensive files, you still liked physical books—when a van pulled up.

"Oh, come on," you said as three goons jumped out. "Really? The grab-and-go in broad daylight? That's so derivative."

"Shut up and get in the van," one of them growled.

"No thanks. I'm good."

They grabbed you anyway, which was rude, and threw you in the van. You considered fighting back, but honestly, you were kind of curious where this was going.

The warehouse they took you to was exactly as cliché as you'd expected. Lots of shadows, dramatic lighting, and there—sitting in a chair like he was holding court—was the Joker.

"Well, well, well," he said, grinning that horrible grin. "The Wayne brat. Not the one I usually play with, but you'll do."

"I'm not actually a Wayne," you said. "Common mistake."

"You live in Wayne Manor. Close enough." He leaned forward. "Do you know what I'm going to do to you?"

"Monologue, probably. Maybe some light torture. Eventually use me as bait to draw out Batman." You looked around the warehouse. "This is the old Amusement Mile location, right? Hasn't this been condemned?"

Joker's smile faltered slightly. "You're not scared."

"I'm a little scared. Mostly annoyed." You studied him. "You know, you're shorter than I expected. The news makes you seem taller."

"I—what—"

"Also, your henchmen are terrible at kidnapping. One of them left a fingerprint on the van door. Very sloppy."

Joker stood up, and okay, maybe you should have been more scared because he pulled out a knife and that was definitely concerning.

"Let's try this again," he said, voice dropping to that dangerous whisper he was known for. "I'm going to hurt you. And you're going to scream. And Batman is going to come running. And then we'll have some real fun."

"Okay, but before you do that, can I ask you something?"

"...What?"

"Is your real name Jack Napier or is that just what the media says? Because I've seen conflicting reports."

Joker stared at you. "How do you know that name?"

"Public records. Well, semi-public. You were arrested in 1987 under that name, before the whole acid bath situation. It's all in the Gotham PD archives if you know where to look." You paused. "Oh, also, your current location is being broadcast on the dark web. Did you know that? Someone in your organization is selling you out."

"They're—what—"

"Yeah, there's a tracker on your shoe. Probably from that new guy—what's his name, Dennis? He's actually an undercover GCPD officer. Did you not vet him before hiring?"

Joker looked at his shoe, then back at you, then at his henchmen. "Dennis?"

Dennis, who had been standing in the corner, went pale. "Boss, I can explain—"

"You're a COP?"

"This is awkward," you observed.

What happened next was chaotic. Dennis ran. Two of the other henchmen chased him. Joker was yelling. Someone pulled a gun.

You took the opportunity to slip your restraints, they'd tied them loose, amateurs really, and move toward the exit.

"Where do you think YOU'RE going?" Joker grabbed your arm.

And here's where you made a decision that was either very smart or very stupid.

"Jack Napier," you said clearly. "Also known as the Joker. Born in 1962, grew up in Gotham's East End. Your mother's name was Maureen. You had a younger brother who died when you were twelve. You worked as a chemical engineer before the accident. You have a documented phobia of bats stemming from a childhood incident at Robinson Park."

Joker's grip loosened. He was staring at you with something that wasn't quite anger, wasn't quite fear, but was definitely unsettled.

"How," he said slowly, "do you know all that?"

"I read. A lot. And I'm very good at connecting information." You met his eyes. "I know things about you that even Batman doesn't know. I know about your first crime—the one you got away with when you were seventeen. I know about the girlfriend who left you right before the accident. I know about the deal you made with Falcone in 1989 that you've kept secret ever since."

"You—" His face was doing something complicated. The grin was gone, replaced by something almost human. Almost vulnerable. "You can't—you shouldn't—"

"I'm not going to tell anyone," you said. "Your secrets are safe with me. I'm just saying... I know things. And I don't think the whole hostage situation is really your style anymore. You've evolved past that. You're more interested in the psychological game now, right? The chaos? Hostages are so 1990s."

Joker laughed. It started small and built to something manic. "Oh, you're good. You're really good. Batman didn't send you, did he?"

"Batman doesn't know I'm here. Neither does anyone else yet. They will soon—I activated my tracker when your guys grabbed me—but right now, it's just us."

"And you're not scared of me."

"I'm appropriately cautious. But no, not really scared." You paused. "You're a man who fell into a vat of chemicals and came out changed. You've built an entire persona around chaos and unpredictability. But underneath it all, you're still just a person. A very damaged, very dangerous person, but a person."

For a long moment, Joker just looked at you.

Then he started laughing again, but this time it was different. Less manic, more genuine.

"Oh, Batsy is going to HATE you," he said, delighted. "You're completely fearless and entirely too smart for your own good." He released your arm, stepping back. "You know what? Go. Just walk out. This—" He gestured around. "—isn't fun anymore. You've ruined it by being interesting."

"So I can just... leave?"

"You were never really in danger. Well, maybe a little. I hadn't decided yet." He waved dismissively. "But now I'm bored and you're creepy and I need to deal with Dennis the traitor. So shoo."

You started backing toward the door. "This is the weirdest kidnapping I've ever been in."

"How many have you been in?"

"Just this one, but still. Weird."

"Get out before I change my mind!"

You got out.

You made it about three blocks before the Batmobile pulled up and Bruce practically fell out of it.

"Are you hurt? Did he—what happened—"

"I'm fine. Joker let me go."

Bruce stopped. "He what?"

"Let me go. We had a conversation. It was educational."

"You had a CONVERSATION with the JOKER?"

"Is that not normal?"

"NO, that is NOT NORMAL—"

The rest of the family pulled up in various vehicles. Dick practically tackled you in a hug. Jason was doing a perimeter check. Tim was scanning you for injuries. Damian was glowering at the warehouse like he could set it on fire with his mind.

"What happened?" Dick demanded. "We got your tracker signal, we were on our way—"

"Joker kidnapped me. We talked. He let me go." You frowned. "Also, he has a mole in his organization. You might want to look into that."

"You TALKED to him?" Tim looked somewhere between horrified and impressed. "What did you talk about?"

"His government name, mostly. And his childhood. And his career trajectory." You paused. "He seems like he's going through something. Very unstable. More than usual."

"She KNOWS HIS GOVERNMENT NAME?" Jason's voice had gone up significantly.

"It's in the archives—"

"THOSE ARE SEALED—"

"Not very well," you pointed out.

Bruce made a sound like a teakettle about to explode.

"Also," you added, "I told him about the mole. And his mother's name. And his fear of bats. He didn't seem happy about that last one."

"You told the Joker we know his secret identity?" Bruce's voice was very, very calm. Which was more terrifying than yelling.

"I mean, you didn't know it. I knew it. So technically I told him that I know his secret identity." You thought about it. "Does that make it better or worse?"

"WORSE," everyone said simultaneously.

"Oh. Well, in my defense, it did get him to let me go without any violence, so tactically it was sound—"

"No," Bruce said. "No, we're going home. We're having a very long discussion about information security, tactical decisions, and why you should NEVER NEGOTIATE WITH THE JOKER."

"I mean, it worked though—"

"NOT THE POINT."

On the drive back to the manor, squished between Dick and Tim in the back of the Batmobile, you reflected that maybe you should have played up the damsel in distress thing more.

But where was the fun in that?

The "very long discussion" turned into more of a family intervention.

"You can't just TELL villains their secret identities!" Tim was pacing. He'd been pacing for twenty minutes.

"Why not? He already knew I knew things. It established credibility."

"It established that you're INSANE," Jason said, but he was grinning. "I mean, I respect it. But you're insane."

"The Joker is not someone you negotiate with," Bruce said for the fourth time. "He's unpredictable, violent, and extremely dangerous—"

"Yes, but he's also dramatic and appreciates a good psychological play. I read his profile." You were sitting on the Batcave's medical cot, having been forced to submit to Alfred's examination despite being completely uninjured. "He responds to intellectual challenge. So I challenged him."

"By telling him you know his deepest secrets," Dick said slowly. "Which, okay, definitely a power move, but also INCREDIBLY RISKY."

"It worked though."

"THIS TIME," Bruce said loudly. "It worked this time. Next time, he might decide to kill you instead of being impressed."

"Then I won't get kidnapped next time."

"THAT'S NOT THE SOLUTION—"

"Master Bruce," Alfred interrupted calmly, "perhaps we should focus on the fact that the young miss is safe and unharmed, rather than the methods she employed to achieve that state."

"Alfred, she told the Joker his government name—"

"Which you didn't know," you pointed out. "So really, I gathered intelligence—"

"BY TELLING A SUPERVILLAIN YOU'VE BEEN INVESTIGATING HIM!"

"When you put it that way, it sounds bad.

Damian, who'd been silent up until now, spoke up. "I find her tactics sound. Psychological warfare is a valid strategy."

"Thank you, Damian—"

"However," he continued, "employing such tactics without backup or extraction plan was foolish. Next time, inform someone of your strategy before implementing it."

"There won't BE a next time," Bruce said firmly.

"Statistically unlikely," you said. "I live with vigilantes. The kidnapping rate is probably going to be higher than average."

Jason was laughing again. "Oh man, B, she's got you there."

"This is not funny—"

"It's a little funny," Dick said. "I mean, she outplayed the Joker in a psychological game. That's kind of impressive."

"It's terrifying," Tim corrected. "She's seventeen and she made the Joker uncomfortable enough to let her go. Do you know how insane that is?"

"I prefer to think of it as effective communication," you said.

Bruce sat down heavily in his chair, looking about twenty years older than he had that morning. "We need rules. Clear, explicit rules about acceptable behavior."

"I follow rules," you protested.

"You hacked our classified files."

"That's not against the rules. You never said I couldn't."

"IT'S IMPLIED—"

"Implications aren't rules, Bruce."

Dick was trying very hard not to laugh. Jason had given up and was openly cackling. Even Damian looked amused, though he was hiding it better.

"Okay," Bruce said, clearly trying to regain control of the situation. "New rule. No engaging with supervillains without explicit permission and backup."

"What counts as engaging?"

"Talking to them. Negotiating with them. Telling them their secret identities—"

"Okay, but what if they kidnap me again? Am I allowed to talk then?"

"If you're kidnapped, your priority is escape, not conversation—"

"The conversation facilitated the escape—"

"Okay, everyone out," Alfred said firmly. "Master Bruce needs a moment. And the young miss needs rest, despite her protests of being fine."

"I am fine—"

"You were kidnapped by a homicidal clown. You are going to your room, drinking the tea I prepare for you, and resting. Non-negotiable."

You knew better than to argue with Alfred. Nobody won arguments with Alfred.

As you headed upstairs, you could hear the family still debating in the Cave.

"We should train her properly," Dick was saying. "If she's going to be in these situations anyway—"

"Absolutely not—"

"Bruce, she's already involved. Better to give her the tools to handle it—"

"She's seventeen—"

"I was younger when I died," Jason pointed out, which shut everyone up real quick.

You kept walking. You'd let them figure it out.

In your room, you pulled out your laptop and added some notes to your personal files.

Joker responds to intellectual challenge. Uncomfortable when confronted with personal information, particularly pre-accident identity. Possible leverage for future encounters? Note: Do not mention to Bruce. He will have an aneurysm.

Also: Need to investigate the Falcone connection more. There's something there.

Alfred appeared with tea, as promised. "You gave them quite a fright."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry anyone."

"I know. But perhaps in the future, try to worry them slightly less?" His eyes twinkled. "Though I must admit, the image of you lecturing the Joker on his career trajectory is rather amusing."

"You're not mad?"

"My dear, I've been managing this family for decades. It takes quite a lot to truly upset me." He set the tea down. "Though I would appreciate if you'd avoid being kidnapped in the future. It's terribly inconvenient."

"I'll try."

"That's all I ask." He headed for the door, then paused. "For what it's worth, you did well. You kept your head, used your intelligence, and got yourself out safely. That's more than many could say."

After he left, you drank your tea and thought about the day's events.

You'd been kidnapped by the Joker. You'd psychologically outmaneuvered him. You'd walked away unscathed.

And you'd somehow managed to give the entire Batfamily a collective heart attack in the process.

All in all, a pretty average Tuesday.

Your phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number.

You're interesting. Let's not do this again. I prefer my chaos unpredictable. - J

You deleted the message and made a note to mention it to Barbara. Joker having your number was probably something they should know about.

But maybe not right now. Bruce was already stressed enough.

You'd tell them tomorrow.

Probably.

"So," Stephanie said, sliding into the seat next to you in the Manor's library, "I heard you made the Joker so uncomfortable he just let you go."

"News travels fast."

"You're a legend now. 'The Girl Who Psyched Out the Joker.' It's got a ring to it." She grinned. "Tim's still not over it, by the way. You solved his case AND outsmarted his nemesis in the same month."

"The Joker is Batman's nemesis, not Tim's—"

"Semantics." She pulled out her phone. "Also, you're trending on the dark web. Villains are taking bets on how long you survive."

"That's morbid."

"That's Gotham." She showed you the forum. "You've got pretty good odds, actually. Lots of money on 'she'll talk her way out of anything.'"

You scrolled through the comments. Most were some variation of impressed or terrified. A few were planning to test you themselves.

"I should probably tell Bruce about this."

"Probably. He's going to love it." Steph's grin widened. "So, when are you joining the team officially?"

"What team?"

"Uh, the Bat team? The vigilante squad? The family business?"

"I'm not a vigilante—"

"Yet. Give it time." She stood up. "For what it's worth, I think you'd be great at it. You've already got the most important skill."

"Which is?"

"Driving Bruce crazy while somehow making him proud at the same time." She winked. "That's practically the family motto."

After she left, you went back to your book. But you couldn't focus.

Because maybe Steph had a point. Maybe you were already part of this, whether you'd planned to be or not.

You'd solved their cases. You'd survived a Joker kidnapping. You'd somehow become part of the family dynamic.

And honestly? You kind of liked it.

Even if you did give them all heart attacks on a regular basis.

Especially because of that, actually.

After all, what was family for if not shared chaos and collective anxiety?

Your phone buzzed again. The family group chat that Dick had added you to.

Dick: Family movie night! Mandatory attendance! Tim: I'm working on a case— Dick: MANDATORY Jason: I'm dead. Can't attend. Dick: You're literally texting from the Manor right now Jason: My ghost is texting. Very tragic. Damian: This is frivolous. Dick: MANDATORY FAMILY BONDING You: What movie? Dick: See? She gets it! Bruce: I have work— Dick: ESPECIALLY mandatory for you, B Alfred: I'll prepare popcorn. Dick: Alfred is the only one who understands family values

You smiled and put your phone away.

Yeah. You could get used to this.

Even if it meant occasionally getting kidnapped by clowns and giving the world's greatest detective a stress migraine.

Maybe especially because of that.

After all, you'd always preferred chaos to boredom.