Mar 4
…you’re…welcome?
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…you’re…welcome?
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i promise I READ OTHER FANFIC AUTHORS TOO but this is old and i just remembered it after drawing those pennywaynes yesterday. just. leave me be . jason at the klurb with his big brother and his grandma who only he can see á la Dead Man’s Party.
do i even need to tag frowny. they’ll see it
straight on
Have you read straight on?
Yes, previously
Yes, now that you've recced it to me
No
Authour: @frownyalfred (TheResurrectionist)
Subfandom: Justice League
Media: All Media Types
Relationships: Gen (OC, Diana of Themyscira & Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne)
Year: 2024
Rating: Gen
Warnings: None
Summary:
Batman tries to access the Watchtower without his signature cowl and uniform. Identity shenanigans ensue.
Submitted by @kiragecko
Submitter's comment:
Her job is to politely stop unauthorized visitors from entering the Watchtower, and Jenna is GOING to do her job with grace and aplomb! Watching things unfold is very enjoyable!
A small toast to @frownyalfred's dead man's party (which has had a hold on me for weeks)
they're so sweet your honor 😭
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Fic rec! Dc Comics, 6K
Summary: Picture this: You're Clark Kent, finishing a story while in Gotham. You hear Batman's young sidekick patrolling alone and decide to go introduce yourself to him, forgetting you're in civilian clothes.
Comments: This is a fic full of misunderstandings, but also Clark being a tiny bit of an asshole. Poor Dick thinks that he’s being chased by a strange meta who keeps cornering him, sending him into a panic, and Bruce is not at all happy with how Clark handled things, to the point where things strain their new working relationship.
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Trinity platonic bedsharing can actually be SO personal—
“It’s barely even bruised.”
Bruce hmmed, still leaning against Tim’s doorjamb. Alfred, behind him, was giving even less away. There was a possibility he was in trouble. That possibility was growing less and less likely with every second of silence.
“It isn’t bruised yet,” Alfred corrected over Bruce’s shoulder. “It’s swollen.”
“It’s just going to stay swollen,” Tim said defensively. “Don’t freak out, okay? I’ll figure out a way to cover it up. I’ll borrow some of Steph’s makeup or something.”
“Freak out,” Bruce repeated, monotone. That was a bad sign.
“Please,” Tim begged. “It was a solo thing. You don’t need to — intervene.”
“Intervene?” Bruce’s eyebrows lifted, breaking the mask-like expression on his face.
“You always do that. You go behind my back and you just—” Tim trailed off, exasperated. “Intervene!”
“I’m not intervening,” Bruce rebutted. He turned to look at Alfred over his shoulder. “Am I intervening?”
“Certainly not, sir.”
“Do I plan to intervene, Alfred?”
Something charged passed between the two men, unspoken. Alfred cleared his throat. “That would be ludicrous, sir.”
“See?” Bruce turned back to Tim. “I’m not intervening.”
Alfred inclined his head. “With that settled…”
Tim’s eyes narrowed, watching the butler depart down the hallway. “What was that look?”
“What look?” Bruce asked innocently.
“That look you just gave Alfred.”
“I didn’t give Alfred a look.” Bruce’s eyebrows twitched. “I barely even glanced at him.”
Tim pressed his lips together, frustrated. “So where is Alfred going?”
“I couldn’t tell you,” Bruce said, shoulders rising and falling.
“Of course you can.”
“I haven’t the foggiest.”
“Bruce.”
“You asked me not to intervene. This is me — not intervening.”
“Bruce.”
the batkids play the “what’s the most annoying injury you’ve ever had?” game but it’s lighthearted (“I broke both thumbs on a bad landing and couldn’t play video games for a month” “one time I got a cut on my leg that reopened every time I stood up” etc) until Bruce walks in. someone asks him the most annoying injury he’s ever had and he doesn’t even stop to think about it.
“Fracturing my spine.”
“Oh jeez,” Dick said, making a face. “Yeah, that’ll do it. That’s definitely…well, annoying isn’t the word I’d use.”
Bruce, expressionless: “Mostly because I couldn’t walk or complete other daily activities without assistance for an extended period of time.”
Dick, glancing at Jason. “Uh….huh.”
“What about that time Ivy hit you with that leaf and you couldn’t eat legumes for a year?” Jason asked, redirecting the suddenly maudlin group. “Wasn’t that more annoying?”
“Hmm.”
Tim leaned back, looking curious. “Just legumes?”
“Legumes,” Jason repeated, waving a hand. “It got ugly.”
“I’m not a huge fan of peanuts,” Bruce said, thoughtful.
“Yeah, no shit, I wonder why.”