Y'all I Cannot Stress This Enough But It's Real Important To Share Stuff That You Like If You Want To

Y'all I cannot stress this enough but it's real important to share stuff that you like if you want to see more of the stuff you like. And that means reblogging stuff.

I'm referencing Simblr specifically here, and fuck knows there's a 1001 reasons someone might want to leave this community, but that CC creator who just quietly stopped posting? That Sims story that never got finished and never will? That person with really neat Sims who said goodbye? All of these can be casualties of feeling like no one gives a shit.

"But SadRaccoon! People should do things because they want to! Notes don't mater!"

In an ideal world, yes. And you should do things because you want to, and not out of a sense of obligation for notes or whatever else. But I think we all know that's not how it works. Plus, I normally see this POV spouted from accounts that already have a big following so it comes off as a tad disingenuous. A little love goes a long way.

TL;DR - If you want to see more of the stuff you love, share the shit out of it.

my ideal batfam hcs but i suck at hcs :3

Dick

he’s fifteen, the eldest kid in the batfamily

his parents died when he was 8 and a half, 

the half is important because i’ve always thought of Dick being a sassy child. like if asked what his name is he will CONFIDENTLY say ‘it’s *Richard*. R-I-C-H-A-R-D. but my parents call me Dick :D’

so therefore if asked his age, if he thinks it relevant, he’ll tack on an ‘and a half!’ to the end of it or ask his parents for a more precise fraction.

“how long until my birthday, dad?”

“five months.”

“…can you put that into the halves-thingy, please?”

that was when he was younger, of course. he’s old enough to put it into fractions himself now

being a entertainer and all he’s got to be charismatic but a lot of it is natural for him.

adults find his quips endearing and his habits loveable

adored all around!!

he brought Barbara home once and Bruce was freaking out to you because that’s his (the Batman’s) best friend’s daughter!!! 

he was very nice to her and Dick seemed happy that neither of you made any offhand comments about her

that was three years ago. they’re still going strong

Kate

I’ll be real, i don’t know much about her

most of this is probably ooc…

she’s fourteen, younger than Dick by I think seven months?

i think you and Bruce would have adopted her when she was older than Dick, like eleven or so

she’s really chill

she balances out Dick’s louder side, and she’s a good listener when Dick wants to talk

i hc her as autistic here but maybe im projecting

she doesn’t directly interact with a lot of family events and just watches from the sidelines because she’ll get stressed out if thrown into them

i also think she loves witchy things. but not for the witchy pagan side of it. just because the crystals are shiny and the jewelry is cool

(me projecting)

i think she’s like the super cool super hot lesbian at school. like she skates to school and listens to paramore and tv girl and knows a lot about bugs (not enough to be seen as a nerd, but enough to be cool)

Bruce takes her to get her hair dyed and to trim up her fuzz? buzz cut side? every month

it’s like a daddy daughter bonding moment. they get ice cream before and then watch a movie after

Bruce has defo invited you but you declined, because it’s their special time! you don’t get that a lot in a family of ten

Steph

another girly I don’t know a lot about…

probably ooc too :(

i think you and Bruce adopt her when she’s also eleven and she’s currently twelve. so in some ways she’s still settling in

I think she has her fair share of behavioural issues for a kid her age, but not to the point where her future seems worrying

just enough to warrant behavioral therapy 

which she loves btw. her therapist has hotwheels and its the BEST

(her words, not mine)

she’s calmed down a ton and her therapist seems impressed with her progress

like, she doesn’t throw tantrums anymore, she doesn’t hit, she doesn’t say words she knows she isn’t supposed to (much) and she gets along a lot better with her siblings

i hc her with adhd

i also think she really likes sharks

she has a shark tooth necklace she found on the Gotham beach (how? you’ll never know)

Cass

Cassie is ten, adopted at eight

she’s autistic and she has selective mutism

shes not mute. she can hold a conversation within the family just fine at home but she just can't talk a lot of the time outside the house :(

she loves being babied

like she adores cuddles and hugs and she’s pretty clingy

like when she started second grade she cried because she didn’t want you to leave you alone :(

she's going to therapy and she got diagnosed with selective mutism and separation anxiety, but she’s doing better and rarely ever gets upset over her anxiety

we're still working on the selective mutism tho

Jason

he’s also ten (he’s four months younger than Cass and HATES it) but got adopted when he was four

he’s also a grade below cass since he was born on the cut. he’s really salty about it and hates whenever someone teases him about it

this is the curly haired, big smiled little baby boo boo that a bunch of people voted to kill a few decades ago

he's sweet and charming with strangers but easily riled up at home

always down for a fight, though he’s easy to fling like a bag of rice (which Dick LOVES doing)

he has small dog syndrome when he gets too much sugar in his system. 

also he plays CoD on Dick’s ps5

he sucks at it and calls everyone all the curse words he knows

(damn, crap, and ‘The F-One’)

Dick records it and posts it on his private story

Tim

he got adopted at five and is nine years old now

if asked, he says ‘i’m nine years, seven months, two weeks and three days old. and seventeen hours, fourteen minutes, thirty-two seconds and counting 🤓'

and he’s ALWAYS right to the dot

like what...

basically young sheldon (i’ve never watched the show, this is all from speculation and what my friends have told me about it)

he’s sleep deprived

no matter what you do… melentonin, reduced lights, less sugar, less screen time, reading to him, white noise… it never works. he’s perpetually tired

(in reality it’s a flashlight he keeps hidden in his bedroom drawer and a good book from his bookshelf that keep him up but he’ll never admit that)

he has a reading/writing level of a senior in high school at nine years old because of all the books he reads

Bruce is SO proud of him

he’s already planning for tim’s college career

Duke

he’s eight and just got adopted

he’s everyone’s baby brother despite Damian being the youngest

he still has a baby face too!!!

Dick loves taking silly photos of him or letting him play games on his pc

Tim and Duke share a room because Duke’s afraid of the dark and he doesn’t like sleeping alone

it’s a win win for the both of them since Tim reads Duke to sleep when he can’t fall asleep and Duke lies to their parents if they ask what Tim was doing all night

(‘Duke, what was Tim doing last night? I heard him shuffling…’

‘he was asleep, dad! he just had to get some water. he woke me up on accident.’)

cue cartoony wink to the camera 

Daimain

Talia abandoned him to the two of you when he was three

he didn’t fully grow into the role of an assassin, but it still happened

he’s six now and his upbringing is apparent 

he’s blunt and cold (not unlike his father) and sneers easily

let me repeat: he is SIX

he roasts everyone in the house like there’s no tomorrow 

indecisive about an outfit? just ask him

if he uses more than three bad describing words, it’s best if you change

under three means its good

none means he likes it

Bruce always gets a kick out of seeing everyone get stunned to silence by a sharp-tongued six year old until that tongue is turned on him

i swear he just sits there like 😲while damian is telling him that his shoes are creased, his hair is filthy, and that he has no self respect

(dick records all of these encounters, but you have him under oath to not post them under ANY circumstances)

Everyone please say hello to Sock!

She is very small!!

Mistletoe and Mayhem

this is within the realm of that hcs i posted!

2.9k words

bruce wayne/gn!reader (reader and bruce are married and have been for over ten years)

cute couples, Bruce Wayne being shy, marriage and cute Batkids, Alfred appreciation, Christmas joy, Bruce Wayne being a little helpless at parenting his children

this was written entirely on my phone and not proofread. you have been warned

The night before Christmas was hell on Earth. Alfred had retired to his room at seven, because neither you nor Bruce could ask him to help nanny the eight kids within good conscious, not when they were so hyped up and Alfred had already done so much. You always helped wherever you could- Bruce was preoccupied with Batman and Wayne Enterprises, making him practically obsolete, so he wasn’t to blame about Mr. Pennyworth doing the most this holiday season. Such as wrapping all hundred sixty something gifts, decorating the entirety of Wayne Manor practically alone (Dick tried to help but just started showing off his acrobatic abilities in places he wasn’t usually allowed to), making Christmas breakfast the night before, stuffing the stockings over the fireplace, keeping said fireplace warm, and helping you keep the children entertained on Christmas Eve morning without Bruce and without the new fascination of Dick going on patrol as Robin to keep them entertained.

It didn’t go very smoothly. Damian cried and so did Cass and Kate had her noise-cancelling headphones on for the majority of the afternoon. You were overwhelmed, too and needed to call Bruce in just to tap out for a little while. He emerged from his office and started a snowball fight, just for your sake. You knew you’d be dusting snow off his stubble afterwards and helping him warm up after Jason stuck a snowball the size of his head down Bruce’s shirt.

Bruce had to yield, as it was nearing his time for patrol. You were on defrost duty, wrapping blankets around freshly showered children’s shoulders and then kissing your husband’s frostbitten lips back to their normal shade of pink. He drags you away from the children for a while, to your bedroom, whispering something about how he was still cold to you before he goes to change into his Batsuit.

That night, when Bruce came home from patrol and you had an odd half a dozen kids to put to bed together, you were starting to really feel Alfred’s absence.

You started with stories. You took the youngest four (excluding Jason- he liked to think himself older than he actually was. Cassie eagerly took his place, though) and let Bruce try to coerce the others to sleep from downstairs, giving you and the more cuddly kids some peace and quiet. Damian fell asleep easily on your lap before you even started to read and curled into a little ball. Cass almost threw him off and onto the ground while trying to put her butt on your shoulder, like she had seen a parrot do on TV. She got it, somehow, after a lot of shifting and prodding- right before, she very nearly tumbled to the ground, saving herself by digging her little fingers into your head and somehow balancing on your shoulder. Around that time, Duke came back with a book. Tim groaned, as the book was ‘If You Give a Mouse a Cookie’ and not ‘Molecular Anatomy 101’, but you just patted his hair and told him to try to sleep. He gruffed and grumbled and groaned but he did try to listen when you started to read.

Near the middle of the book, you had to take a break to shift Cassie to your lap, since she had fallen asleep and would’ve toppled over and hit her head on the ground if you kept her perched there like an half-asleep bird. She curled a little around her little brother, making you take a little break from reading to coo at just how darn cute your kids were.

By the end, Tim was asleep where he was sitting by your feet, leaving only Duke awake. You made a ‘shhh’ motion to him and carefully, quietly, picked Damian and Cassie up and gently put them over your shoulders. You put them in their beds and then circled back to pick Tim up and hold Duke’s hand as you walked to his room. You tucked Duke in as you usually did, and just as you were about to get up, his hands flew out and he clutched at your arm.

“Can I get another story?” He asked with his best puppy eyes.

“Duke… it’s late, buddy. You need to sleep.” You say, but you already know your answer when he cranks the pitifulness up to a hundred, those big eyes staring holes into your soul. You groan quietly. “Fine.” You say, going to his bedside bookshelf to pick a book. “But a short one!” You warn, and he cheers quietly. You come back with ‘Good Night, Moon’ and then you make him scoot over so you can lay in bed, too, because damn were you tired and damn was that rocking chair so not comfortable. By the time you finish the book, he’s half asleep. “Good night, Duke,” you say quietly, kissing his forehead before picking yourself up, putting the book away, and going downstairs to see what your husband was up to.

Downstairs, Bruce had Jason in a headlock. He was kicking his feet up and around haphazardly as Steph held up his knees, effectively turning her little brother into a battering ram against Bruce, who was holding in strong. Dick was on the couch, knees locked and ready to spring onto Bruce like those wrestlers who get up on the ropes of the ring to body slam their opponents. Kate was quietly sitting away from the chaos in a little reading nook by the kitchen with a cup of tea and a book. You stopped at the top of the stairs and everyone froze on the level below- except for Dick, who took the newfound quiet as the perfect opportunity to yell a battle cry and jump on Bruce’s back, forcing your husband out of his sheepish silence with a loud profanity as he tumbled forward, making Jason and Steph tumble, too. Kate snorts out a laugh from her corner. They end up in a pile on the carpet, Jason squirming his way out from the bottom, Steph complaining loudly about where her dad had fallen atop her pinkie finger, and Dick quickly scampering off of your husband’s back. Bruce huffs out in pain and pulls himself up, but not without shooting you another sheepish, apologetic look.

“This is you getting them to bed?” You say as you go down the stairs.

“Well- we were supposed to just throw things around, to get them tired. Then Jason started to climb things and-“

You cut him off with a gentle kiss to the cheek, which makes him deflate, a silly, tired smile on his face. You spare him from a lecture, not wanting to belittle his parenting choices right then, and pat his shoulder before getting down to business.

“C’mon, now. It’s bedtime.” You say to the kids, which makes Jason and Steph groan loudly. Kate puts her teacup away carefully in the kitchen and brings her book upstairs while the three others drag their feet up the stairs, trying to bribe you into letting them stay awake. Maybe it would’ve worked any other night, but it was Christmas night. So you forced the three of them- excluding Kate, as she said a gentle goodnight to the both of you and went to her room- to bed and gave Kate and Dick a good night kiss (she and Dick are the only ones out of the four who accept them anymore) before retiring to the master bedroom with Bruce, who was walking with a slight limp because of that stunt Dick pulled. You yawned- it was already one in the morning, and Tim would be waking the two of you at six for presents. It was predictable, really. He’d wake up really early (at least three in the morning according to Alfred) and then wait until six to wake you and Bruce to impatiently wait for the others to inevitably start trickling in. Dick would arrive after Tim, then Duke, then Cass, and then Damian would awake to the commotion and be grumpy about it so loudly that he’d wake Jason, and then Jason would bully Steph into joining him. Kate and Alfred always waited for everyone downstairs- Kate preferring the butler’s company over her loud, excited and impatient brothers and sisters. You weren’t offended, if anything, you understood, but you couldn’t say Bruce wasn’t. It always hurt him a little when the kids showed obvious signs of growing up or distaste to the two of you. Bruce had cried on your shoulder when Dick graduated middle school, when he had seen that not-so-baby-faced Dick in his cap and gown. You knew he was thinking about the future, how one day Dick would be an adult and leave. You knew he was dreading that, and you understood.

You got ready for bed, revolving around each other in a practiced way, weaving in precise, memorised ways since you just know the other that well, before retiring to the bed around the same time. After years of being together, you two had sort of unconsciously shortened or lengthened certain parts of your routines so you would always be in bed around the same time as the other. You were reflecting on this as Bruce slid into bed next to you, wearing his fancy, matching silk pyjamas that always reminded you of just how old money your husband was. You slide underneath his arm as he lays on his back (like a grandpa, you’ve teased before) and curl up as close as possible to his side. He adjusts his grip so he’s properly holding your shoulders and stroking a gentle line up and down your back.

“Goodnight.” He says quietly, his free hand turning off his bedside lamp.

“Goodnight.”

It doesn’t feel long at all until Tim pounces on the two of you, squirming right next to you since there was such little space between you and your husband. Bruce is already awake by then, gently rubbing your hair while you groan, awakened.

“Can we open gifts yet?” Tim asks, despite knowing the answer himself.

“No, Tim.” Bruce says. “We have to wait for everyone.” Tim grumbles in response. “Try to get some sleep, kiddo,” Bruce murmurs, trying to keep his voice low for you. You file his consideration under ‘things to swoon about’ for later. Tim huffs in response but cuddles closer to your side in an attempt to at least try. You yawn and lean closer to your husband, pressing a lazy little kiss to his jawline. He smiles and ruffles your hair before telling you to go back to sleep in a quiet voice, and you’re quick to oblige.

You manage to get a bit of shut eye until Dick sneaks in at 6:45. He takes his spot on Bruce’s side of the bed, not too close as he was a teenager and valued personal space but still close enough to make Bruce feel loved. He whispers a Merry Christmas to the both of you before pulling his phone out and tapping on it, presumably texting his girlfriend.

Cute.

You rest your head on Bruce’s chest before Duke comes trailing in with his Batman plushie, awoken from the lack of Tim in their shared bedroom. He grumbles quietly, complaining about being left alone, and then cuddles next to Tim before falling asleep himself. There’s a nice pause before Cass comes in, blinking blearily and looking like a sleepy kitty. You position her on your chest as she’s small enough for it, and then Damian comes in, pouting. He takes the space closest to his dad, between Bruce and Dick, and then a few moments later Jason comes in, dragging Steph with him. He cuddles Dick, who is still occupied on his phone while Steph gently scoots Tim away so she can cuddle you instead. Tim doesn’t care- he clings onto Steph in his sleep instead.

“That’s everyone.” You say. Bruce nods and then scoops up the littlest pile of sleeping kids (Cass, Tim, Duke) into his arms and then gets up, shuffling into his slippers. You get up, too, gently rousing the other kids, whispering ‘it’s Christmas!’ to them. That’s enough to wake them, as they take off running downstairs. You hear over exaggerated gasps as they see the Christmas tree, lit up, with dozens of presents underneath.

Honestly, you can’t blame them either. It’s beautiful. The Christmas tree is a story and a half tall, and though it’s a pain to decorate, it turned out beautifully this year.

“Merry Christmas, babe.” You whisper to Bruce as he sets the kids he had been holding down on the ground. They squirm out of reach to gawk at the at the Christmas tree, too.

“Merry Christmas.” He says, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing the top of your head.

You’re eventually forced downstairs so you can watch the children open their gifts and give them ‘you’re welcome’ hugs. Of course, with it being such a big family, it’s practically impossible to make the littles hold off for that long when there’s presents- literally- with their names on them. So everyone goes ham, and for an hour or two, Wayne Manor is filled with excited shouts and loud ‘thank you’s.

When all has died down and the children are content with entertaining themselves, it’s time for the adults to swap gifts, which includes you, Alfred, and Bruce. Sometimes a kid will place themselves on your lap to see what you got, but more often than not, it’s a little private affair within your own little community of legal drinkers. You got Alfred a candle/tea/matching handkerchief set from a mom and pop store you saw on the beach while accompanying Bruce on a business trip this year, since he liked to keep candles burning while cooking dinner every night. You thought he’d appreciate the earl grey tea, too.

Bruce, however, is harder to shop for. What do you get a literal billionaire? You’ve asked him before and he’s always reassuring- ‘I’ll love whatever you get me, babe’ or ’doesn’t matter, babe, it’s the thought that counts’- but he doesn’t seem to know what he wants, either. You’ve asked the kids too and they just shrug and tell you something that they want instead.

You had just gotten to the shops when you saw Bruce’s gifts. You were really only there to plan a dinner with friends later that week, when you came by a Hot Topic. Ooh. You, obviously, were drawn inside by the very loud, akin-to-My-Chemical-Romance music and the smell of teenage angst.

You went in mainly just to amuse yourself, but lo and behold, there lay a whole shelf dedicated to Batman. Chuckling to yourself, you picked up a soft Batman plush (his mouth was downturned in the cutest little frown), a Batarang pocket knife (Batman would never be caught dead with it, but maybe Bruce Wayne would use it?) and Batman house slippers (to replace those posh satin ones he usually wears).

Alfred said a courteous thank you and a genuine smile, tucking the handkerchief into his suit pocket. He then handed you your gift- one of those ceramic angel children that seems like the sort of thing Alfred would have lying around his house if he had a house. He’s been giving different versions of them to you every Christmas since you and Bruce got serious all those years ago. You exchange a ‘thank you/you’re welcome’ hug.

Then Bruce opens your gift, and he lets out a choked laugh at the Batman memorabilia.

“What’s this?” He asks, sounding amused as he picks up the Batman plushie.

“Your gift!” You say. He laughs.

“Well. Yes.” He says, picking up the pocket knife and staring at it. “Thank you, babe.” He says, leaning in to peck your lips. He chuckles and then shakes his head before setting it aside and giving you your gift, suddenly bashful.

“I hope you like it.” Your husband says with a cute, vulnerable, puppy eyed expression on his face. It’s a small parcel, really, and it feels light in your hands. You give Bruce a reassuring smile and then open it.

Inside is a custom painting of your wedding day. You’re mid-kiss with Bruce, and the painting is light and colorful and cheerful. Bruce has a similar photo on his desk, but it was taken after the kiss, as the relative who had been instructed to take the photo didn’t react quite so quickly to get the photo you wanted. You weren’t mad- it was still a nice photo- but this painting was exactly what you had envisioned over ten years ago. You’re about to start gushing praises and thanks but Bruce cuts you off.

“There’s more.” He says and you blink before you keep looking through the parcel. Underneath a copious amount of tissue paper is another painting- one of the whole family, from last year’s Christmas. The camera hadn’t taken a single good photo that year- someone’s eyes were always closed, Dick fussed about his hair, Steph and Jason started fighting in the middle of the photoshoot- but this painting had taken the best parts of all the photos and made them into one complete piece.

It makes tears well up in your eyes. Bruce immediately looks panicked, and he’s about to start apologising, but you shake your head.

“Happy tears.” You say, and he nods before hugging you. “Thank you.” You say quietly.

“You’re welcome.” He pets your hair. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

bruce wayne/reader drabble

i was bored during a road trip and wrote this in notepad. it's not finished and not proofread 😊 i might work on it later, maybe won't.

Batman had never given you anything other than a blank stare or glare, depending on what time it was and what part of 31st Street you were on and whether or not he had saw you eat breakfast that morning. Today was a blank glare sort of day. You’d just gotten off your shift at the hospital, too tired to pay attention to the dark, shadowy streets of Gotham while you walked to the parking lot because these damn New England streets and their limited parking space never felt benevolent enough to give you a spot within a half a mile radius of the hospital. Then the shadows step out from the alleyway, and you manage a half-assed grunt of acknowledgement instead of the scream you let out the first time he walked you to your car. In his defense, though, he had told you that day what would be waiting for you that night. …In yours, you’d been half asleep and he was really warm and all you wanted was some quality time with your husband before he inevitably got up and started the day. You'd been curled up to him as you usually were in the morning, before either of you had to be up and about. He'd just come home from patrol, those blue eyes of his rubbed clean of the eye makeup the Batman demanded. The sun had been up for a while and it came in through the windows of your shared room, finally annoying you enough to make you turn over and seek shelter in Bruce's side of the bed. He had been awake for a while- he didn't need to be out till two, the lucky thing. He rubbed your hair, earning a sleepy sound of affection from you and a smile from him. "Love," he says, his voice deep and hoarse from sleep but also that stupid, husky Batman voice. It's enough to make you stir, blinking at him sleepily. "I'm going to walk you home from work tonight." He says quietly, massaging your skull- and honestly, how could he expect you to stay awake when those big, warm hands of his were so attentive and gentle? He chuckled when he saw your eyes drooping again, resigning. "Go back to sleep, lovey." He murmurs, tucking you close to his chest. You really didn't have much in you to disobey. So truly, it wasn't anyone's fault but Bruce's that you'd hollered when he came out of nowhere and stared. He very nearly broke character then- you swear you saw a laugh in his eyes, or saw a gloved hand twitch in your direction.

Since then, he's been walking you to your car and invisibly shadowing you- literally- on your drive home. You've grown to be fond of these little walks. Usually, you'd only ever see him in the morning and when he got home from patrol. Though it wasn't a Sunday morning together, a couple minutes to be in each other's presence was calming. You'd never admit it to him, but you've started to purposefully park further and further away from the hospital, just for a few more moments with your husband. You wished that he'd hug you, hold your hand, at the very least say something- but you weren't about to complain. You knew the lengths he went to, for you and Gotham. It was best to keep your mouth shut and be apperciative. You tucked your water bottle underneath your arm as you unlocked your car and got into the car without so much as a goodbye from Bruce. You know he'd properly talk to you once he got him in- you checked the clock in your car- three hours. You started the car up and looked out the window, expecting Bruce to maybe be lingering there, but he already slipped back into the shadows. You sighed silently before starting the drive back to Wayne Manor. Just two more weeks of this, you told yourself. You and Bruce had been married for six months, and you'd be leaving your job in two weeks because, well, the whole 'being married to a billonaire' thing made going to work useless. Thank the gods. It was burning you out at a rapid pace- a domestic life with Bruce was what had kept you going for a while.

You pulled into the parking lot of Wayne Manor, saying hello to Alfred before retiring to the master bedroom. Three hours to kill before you went downstairs to greet Bruce as he got off patrol. You took a hot bath, changed into something more cozy than your scrubs, and curled on your bed and watched your favorite show while waiting for the tell-tale sound of the Batmobile pulling in. You had almost dozed off when you heard the signature rumble of the engine downstairs. With a yawn, you shuffled into your house slippers and slipped through a secret passageway in Bruce's study to the Batcave. You heard chatter downstairs- Dick and the others came for an after-patrol visit, most likely. "Brucie," you said with a yawn, your vison blurred with sleep as you rubbed it away, going down the stairwell. "How was patrol?" You finally take in your surroundings, which makes you promptly freeze on the stairs. There stood the Justice League in all their shiny glory. They looked out of place in Bruce's Broodcave, too shiny and bright for the gloom down in the cave. It made you blink a few times, made you wonder if maybe you were asleep. But no. Green Lantern is the first to break, with an astounded gasp. "You have a partner?!" He all but shouts, his voice echoing around the cave. "Yes." Bruce says gruffly. You pause on the staircase, unsure of what to do, looking to Bruce for any sort of help, but his gaze is trained on his team members. "Why didn't you tell us?" Superman says. He almost sounds hurt. "It didn't seem relevant." Your husband says. Wonder Woman is the first to try to right things. "It's great to meet you," she says kindly, giving you a smile. You return the smile, albeit a little nervously. "You, too." You says, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady. Then you share the smile to the rest of the Justice League, wanting at the very least to stay friendly, even if you'd rather hide behind Bruce and go back to your normal nightly routine. "Well… I'll be upstairs, honey." You say finally, going back up the staircase and back into Bruce's study, waiting for him in your bedroom, picking apart every part of the interaction in your mind quietly as you settle under the sheets. It's at least half an hour until Bruce comes into your bedroom, changed out of the Batsuit and into something a lot softer. He climbs into his side of the bed, crawling next to you and kissing your face. "They liked you." He murmurs. "Did they?" You whisper back, unbelieving. "Yeah. They thought you were sweet. They were pissed at me for not telling them I was married, though." He says, cupping your hips in his hands as he rests his chin on your chest, looking up at you with those big eyes of his, black makeup still smudged around his eyes. "Yeah?" You hummed, running your hands through his floppy hair. "Go wash off the night, soldier." You tell him. "Yes, sir," he murmurs, pulling himself off of you, albeit a little reluctantly, and padding over to the bathroom. He comes back with his eyes clean and his hair wetted, the grease he uses to keep it in the cowl washed clean. He settles back on top of you, nesting his face in the crook of your neck and pressing a kiss there, his arms tucking underneath you and holding onto your waist. You hum happily and brush his hair from out of his eyes, twirling it around your fingers and watching it flop back into place.

my gf