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Batman’s “you are going to fuck up, I am going to teach you how to fuck up less” is one of the things he says that utterly infuriates people when they first hear it but becomes reassuring in hindsight once the reality of being a hero hits

Bruce: Today I realised I'm old

Clark: What happened?

Bruce: I fell in the kitchen and instead of laughing, all my kids came running to see if I was ok

Clark:

Bruce: I saw fear in their eyes

The joke that the bats see their contingency plans as a form of love is super fucking funny, don't get me wrong but honestly they probably do see it as that cause they just forget to say the second part out loud.

"after I've taken you down, obviously I'd find whatever made you like this and then find the cure."

They come from gotham where mind altering substances are basically everywhere. One of the most profound ways a gothamite could say 'i care about you' is admitting to having a plan to disarm/capture you in the case you go off the deep end, so that they could then get you a cure.

Unfortunately for the bats, no one else thinks like that cause what the actual fucks guys

Batman has a very specific code that's on everyone's communicator that he warns the JL to 'Never tap into it unless I'm indisposed and the world is 2 seconds away from ending'

Fast forward a few years and batman is knocked out cold and the world is 2 seconds away from ending when one JL member rmbers batman's 'very important do not tap unless absolutely necessary' button

So obviously the JL taps it expecting some god or smth and who else picks up but a woman who's simultaneously yelling commands,tapping aggressively at what they assume to be a keyboard and calmly telling them that she's Oracle,that she's already linked every person on the battlefield's comms to the 'batfamily comms'(direct wording) and that she's sending reinforcements as they speak

Then,while the JL is still in shock,Red Hood the fucking drug lord lands beside them and starts shooting up enemies,Nightwing is futher back backflipping,Red Robin is doing his shit

A mysterious black cowled girl pops up beside them and starts gently telling(ordering) them to specific parts of the battlefield(Hal gets so spooked he screams),a fully purple girl is beating enemies up next to them,a guy in neon yellow is punting enemies to the ground.

And some random ass 10 y/o is screaming bloody murder as he incapcitates enemies thrice his size

the way to painfully revert every Batkid to Robin in .5 seconds is for Bruce to get injured doing something he wouldn’t have ever done if they hadn’t fucked up. like throwing himself off a ledge to catch them when they misjudged a grapple line, or diving in front of them at the last second to take a hit they didn’t see in time. and suddenly they’re 12 again and Batman is bleeding and it’s their fault. it’s their fault, if they had just been better—

Concept: Jason sending Tim a different drug dealer’s name every month so that rich kid Tim Drake tries to make the dealer sell to him as a test if they’re truly sticking to Jason’s no selling to kids rule.

Jason has essentially killed two birds with one stone, 1. He got to identify and take out the fuckers that were still selling to kids and 2. He essentially made sure Tim could never buy anything from Gotham’s dealers. Call it his way of caring.

To anybody else, Tim just looked like another stupid rich kid who doesn’t know what they’re getting themselves into but the ruse is up when the news starts spreading that anyone who sells to Tim Drake specifically will get their ass busted by the Red Hood. So the next time Jason sees Damian he pitches the idea up to him and the few dealers that sell to Damian get an especially slow and painful treatment cause how dare they sell to what is very clearly a 14 year old baby??

The operation is kept strictly away from Bruce, of course, until one day some reporter breaks the story about billionaire Bruce Wayne’s kids caught trying to buy drugs and all HELL breaks loose. The end result was all of them being grounded for a month after a 5 hour long rant about responsibility and damaging their civilian reputations and the entire Wayne family being blacklisted from the drug market no matter how much cash they wave around.

Alfred totally brags about the kids in public, simultaneously shading Bruce who cannot defend himself using Batman:

Alfred: "Master Duke was a Gotham Genius Grant finalist at 12, and Miss Gordon holds multiple degrees." *side eyes Bruce*

Bruce:

Or

"Oh, Master Dick restored the car himself, he's got a phenomenal skill with automobiles, much like the late Dr.Wayne himself."

Outsider: "Too bad it skipped you, huh Bruce? Can't even change a spare tire."

Bruce: *seething quietly* "I wonder where he gets it."

And

A visitor to Wayne Manor: "These are lovely portraits."

Alfred: "The work of Master Damian, he's practically a prodigy. It's a relief that someone in the family is appreciative of the arts."

Bruce: "I appreciate art--"

Alfred: "Twelve years of piano lessons and nothing to show for it."

Later in the Cave

Bruce: "I appreciate art."

Alfred: "Apologies Master Bruce, it's a little hard to see things around here as you seem to think black is the last remaining colour in the world."

Bruce:

Consider: depressed necromancers forced to go on mental health walks by their creations

"Get up, go outside."

It was like being ordered around by a chill running down his spine. He gave a blind, swatting wave into the space around him. "Piss off."

"Ha! You sure must be regretting studying resurrections instead of banishments, hm?" the ghostly voice echoed at the edge of his hearing. "I have aaall the time in the world."

It was absolutely killing him that turning off his hearing aids didn't work against ghosts. He opened his eyes, staring blankly up at the by now familiar shape floating above him. The look in the spectral eyes was infuriatingly soft.

"Come on. One little walk. And I won't give you any grief about your meal choices tonight."

"It's still light out," he gritted, too tired to even raise his voice. "And you can't make me."

The shining eyes narrowed. "Not yet I can't, but I'll learn. And I bet I'll be able to start chucking bottles of vitamin D at your head long before I'm strong enough to move your sorry ass."

"I did you a favour, you wanted this. And this is the thanks I get?"

Somehow the chill turned warm for a second while the ghost smiled with his whole face. "Yeah. I'm paying it forward."

He pulled the couch pillow over his head. "Go haunt somewhere else."

"Or, you could leave and go for a-"

"Fine, I'll go for a damn walk."

The ghostly laughter followed him all the way to the door and for a second it felt like the grey sludge gave way—

He paused with his hand on the key in the lock. "...are you coming or what?"

the Batkids grow up and realize that Bruce’s whole “I stay calm so you stay calm while badly injured” shtick was SO close to unraveling at any second and they had no freaking clue. Bruce was putting a field tourniquet on them and smoothing their hair back, talking about stay calm, yeah chum? meanwhile the Batkid in question is like yeah, why am I freaking out? maybe I am taking this too seriously. and Bruce is quietly having a tiny mental breakdown in the front of the Batmobile where they can’t see him trying to remember how to drive because Robin’s bleeding out, Robin’s bleeding out—

IRONDADFICS TAGS MASTER POST! - Currently Being Revised

Whew! After several days of work, here’s a new tag list for the blog’s current tagging system! Using this Masterlist you’ll be able to navigate through past posts to find lost fics more easily, discover new recommendations, and more! This list isn’t perfect, but we really hope you’ll find it useful! <3

(if you are having issues accessing some of these tags on the tumblr app, check out this post for mobile instructions)

Also please checkout our outreach sheet and help us to find some missing fics. Thank youuu!! - click here

Check Out Our…

Favorites

Guide On How To Recover Deleted Fics

This list is quite expansive. To see the entirety of it, check out what is below the cut! 

Keep reading

Superman thinking him and Batman are courting, while Batman thinks they are bitter rivals.

Superman drops off some pretty flowers for Batman one day ‘To Batman xox Superman’ (he’s so brave - very proud of himself). Bruce immediately googles all the flowers in it to try and work out the meaning.

“Gazania’s represent wealth and Richness.. It has moon flowers in it. Moon… it’s currently a waning moon… *GASP* he knows I’m Bruce Wayne.”

“Sir maybe he just liked the look of the flowers-“

“BEGONIA’S MEAN BEWARE ALFRED! He knows my identity and he is BLACKMAILING me!”

“What about the note, sir. He signed it x o x ”

“It’s one of those ‘emoticons’ Alfred! Two x’s for dead eyes and the o is the surprised mouth. My god he’s going to kill me and he thinks I’ll never see it coming.”

Superman is leaving every encounter kicking his feet and writing Clark Batman Kent in his diary, while Batman is updating his will and preparing to wage a war against a god.

god, why is HE third-wheeling on our cryptid hunt…

The victim was found strangled to death with a rosary, stabbed through the heart with a crucifix and stuffed full of garlic from several orifices. No reason to suspect the victim was a vampire, so currently we are trying to figure out what the fuck did he do to piss off the italians.

i either see gay ships as my two fathers or my son and his stupid little boyfriend

✶ INTERACTIVE FICTION RECS ✶

✶ Project Hadea - @nyehilismwriting (wip)

✶ The Exile - @exilethegame (wip)

✶ Vendetta - @vendetta-if (wip)

✶ When Twilight Strikes - @evertidings (wip)

✶ The Northern Passage - @northern-passage (wip)

✶ Merry Crisis - @merrycrisis-if (wip)

✶ Diaspora - @diasporatheblog (wip)

✶ Infamous - @infamous-if (wip)

✶ Fields of Asphodel - @chrysanthemumgames (wip)

✶ Eyes of Shan - @eyesofshan-if (wip)

✶ A Comedy of Manors - @sviyaginthegreat (wip)

✶ Wolf Set Free - @wolfsetfree-if (wip)

✶ Honor Amongst Thieves - @leoneliterary (wip)

✶ Thicker Than - @barbwritesstuff (wip)

✶ Soulmates Inc. - @soulmatesinc-if (wip)

✶ Crown of Ashes and Flames - @coeluvr (wip)

✶ Virtue's End - @virtues-end (wip)

✶ You Live and Fern - @beetlebethwrites (wip)

✶ Attollo - @attollogame (wip)

✶ Wayfarer - @idrellegames (wip)

✶ The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - An affair of the heart - @doriana-gray-games (wip)

✶ Superstitions 1, 2 - @13leaguestories

✶ Seven Days in Purgatory (I don't think this one is ever getting finished, but it has a special place in my heart)

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣ ✶

VN'S

✶ A Date with Death - @twoandahalfstudios

✶ 14 Days With You - @14dayswithyou (wip)

✶ Blooming Panic - @robobarbie

✶ ERROR143

✶ The Good People - @moiraimyths (wip)

✶ Our Life: Beginnings & Always - @gb-patch

✶ Our Life: Now & Forever - @gb-patch (wip)

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣ ✶

if recs 2.0 & new projects recs

Tree of Morningstar by li moly

Color Study by yeonji Rhee

I just think that Hobie would be the one to say it first

A light-hearted interactive fiction game about soulmates, chances and choices, written in ChoiceScript.

|| LINK to demo || [119k]

Here at Soulmates Inc we specialize in chance meetings!

Love happens.

It takes by the storm. It is lucky, it is cruel, it makes no sense, it elevates. It is beautiful, it rears its ugly head, then it is beautiful once again. Now that, humans can manage on their own.

Soulmate-grade connection is an entirely different brand. Enter you. That's your brand. It requires dedicated labor. Whimsical meetings. Nuance.

As a soul-link, you arrange for those destined matches to happen using the powers of glamor at your disposal. An ancient practice, really, though, as with everything, it has evolved and happily marched with the times. You work out of an office, have a phone plan, a lease, and a favorite restaurant. Your boss is not a half-naked man with a bow and arrows but a fashionably dressed man who goes to a gym and drives an electrical Mustang.

It is nice. Modern.

Just one rule. The only rule, in fact. A scripture, if you will: never interact with a soul directly.

Which is precisely why your most recent half-match staring at your confused face is so damn bad. Worse yet, they can see right through your glamor for some reason.

Now what?..

love is all around you but it does not have to be for you: play as aro, ace, bi, gay or straight. Your romantic prospects are three, but each has a story to tell

explore who you are: a firm and enthusiastic believer, a burned-out office worker, or a skeptical soul-link questioning their purpose

use and evolve your soul-link powers: Empathy and Shroud

keep up with your job duties and bring people together while trying to protect your employer from a greater looming threat

someone is throwing around heavy words like 'destiny', but dealing with existential questions is entirely optional!

Amber | Andrew Wyatt Once a high-performer soul-link, they flew too close to the sun and snooped around where one does not snoop around. Having fallen from grace at a company that believes in chances, Wyatt is back on probation, though under your supervision. The light is snuffed out of their eyes, and instead of being a firm believer, Wyatt now drips disillusioned pearls of what they think is wisdom.

A languid redhead who wears sunglasses more often than not.

Samuel | Samantha C. Powell Sam has a steady job, does weekly family visits and always parks the bike properly. How do you learn that? Sam is also your sparkling new charge, a common everyperson, a salt of the earth—nope, not that simple at all! You cannot seem to find their soulmate (never happens) and they can see through your glamor (never happens either). To be fair, Sam is freaked out by it, too.

Your sporty charge in a wrinkle-free T-shirt with a mess of locs held back by a band.

Martin | Mia Romero A hectic ball of energy that is a human person, they are passionate about their distaste for your employer's business and are happy to go in length about it. Romero is messy, yet strangely put together in their belief: a hurricane that may sweep you off your feet if you are not careful enough. They know things, things no human should. You should probably report that to your boss...

A city dweller with hair tied sloppily in a short low ponytail, perfectly matched with dramatic eyebags.

After the Quest

prints

And they were flatmates

A Patchwork Fantasy Tale about a cohabitation calamity.

Surely all that stuff about vampires and werewolves not getting along is just nonsense, right?

Read the transcript for this episode here.

Find everything about this podcast and my other projects on laurasimons.com.

Follow this podcast on Tumblr!

Check out composer Kai Engel, who wrote the theme song “Holiday Gift”.

Penny for a tale? You can tip your storyteller on Ko-fi!

Click here to go to the new episode!

Is so right lfmao ( twitter post )

I'm sorry, are you?

(@sobredunia @max-the-hecker @carcinocommander FUCK YOU, I LOVE YOU AND I'M SUBJECTING YOU TO TWITBLR YAOI I SPENT WELL OVER AN HOUR WRITING)

Twitter and Tumblr had drifted for ages now.

Once the closest of lovers, now fractured apart.

One living the life of luxury as a rich mans only 'friend' the other living the life of marrow and blood.

Driven apart when Tumblrs first and only mother Yahoo banned all pleasures of the flesh, even being thunk of in her domain, you could be exiled for a such a thing.

Where Tumblr adapted, moved on, accepted the change, Twitter left, he left without a second thought, if they could not divine tales of flesh, then why even be friends?

Twitter left, his sky blue feathers the only remains of his existence in Tumblrs seemingly empty life.

It ached, it stung, it hurt so fucking bad.

Losing someone like Twitter, Tumblr was aching.

Looking for a reason, stumbling blindly through a forest, he stumbles into the waiting grasp of Appolo. Red plastic burns Tumblrs vision as he stands at the edge of temple gates, a dodge ball. He walked up, closer and closer until he could grasp it, until he could see the rise and fall of empires.

He dropped it, panting, the gift of Appolo, prophecy.

Tumblr was shook, Twitter, Twitter would return one day.

For only a brief second happiness washed over Tumblr as he saw how desperate Twitter looked in the vision, so, so fucking desperate to be welcomed into the barren land. It was cruel, Tumblr would refuse in that future, Twitter naught but a pretty boy suffocating in gold chains he made.

Tumblr wanted to know more, but, not that far ahead.

With a steadying breath he gripped the plastic once again, vision after vision washed over him until it went black.

A man in green, skeleton in blue, demon in red, triangle of yellow, what kind of fucking prophecy is that?

Would it lure Twitter in, push him away?

The vision did not say any more even as Tumblr begged to know, cried out to the Gods, throat raw.

He needed to know what would happen, how prepared his people would be when Twitter returns.

An eon passes.

Tumblr and Twitter should be dead now, they persist in life despite their lives surely dwindling.

Tumblr knows why he persists in living, his god, his one god Appolo watches over him dutifully.

Twitter does not know why, his gods, they shower in praise by the hundreds, have turned away from him.

Tumblr is fine, jaded, struggles within doing little to deter him, he gifted his people with everything they could want with what little he had to work with. He gave them legions of crabs, he gave them stupid lizard elections and they were happy under his gaze.

Twitter is breaking down, sobbing, struggles escaping his thick skin, he has everything to work with and he doesn't give his people anything. He's done nothing for them but feed them into greed and ungratefulness, he gave them a blue checkmark and he can't do much else.

His owner refuses to allow him.

Even as what was once an immortal being, a rich mortal who promised everything controls Twitter. Twitter himself is a hollowed corpse of what he once was, hacking up algorithms as feathers fall from once bountiful wings. Tumblr brushed his wings once, when they were lovers, he wants to return to such an amazing lover once again, but he can't.

The rich man won't let him, draping him in silver and gold, piles of gems crammed into his cell. A black room, there is no window, but it is always bright and icy so Twitter can see his reflection in his water, the glimmer of jewels as well. He's ugly now, his suit, demure and soothing, grimy and covered in corruption, all he has left is his voice.

And every night he uses it.

Every night he calls for Tumblr, calls for an escape, calls for Tumblrs love once again.

Every night Tumblr hears Twitters call, wishes he could return it, wishes he could say he still loved Twitter, but he can't.

The prophecy is yet to be fulfilled.

And until then.

Tumblr and Twitter will never speak again