Reblog To Bonk Your Mutuals On The Head Every Time They Start Thinking Negatively About Themselves

Awwwwwwwwwwww <3

Pls just imagine how dramatic a young justice fic would be if it was like

The one where Batman and Robin are magically de-aged to when they first started working together

So now you’ve got a very paranoid and over protective Batman who hasn’t actually met any of the other justice league members yet and an itsy bitsy Robin who looks like he’ll tear someone’s head off. The Justice League has them quarantined in the Watchtower, they’re not letting them go home to the batcave or anything, and Batman is arguing with Green Arrow while holding a flailing Robin by the scruff of his neck. He looks like a feral kitten.

Now keep in mind, no one in this scenario knows Batman and Robin’s secret identities. They’re not even really sure if they’re father and son, brothers, uncle and nephew, or maybe strange mentor and protege picked off the streets, they’ve no clue. So seeing what is now clearly a young twenty-something Batman trying to wrangle in a wriggling eight year old is both highly entertaining and totally baffling. Where the hell did these two even come from. And how has that tiny kid been around longer than some actual adult heroes.

“He bit me!” Kid Flash cries, running away from a glowering Robin.

“Don’t try to touch me next time, asshole!”

“Hey!” Batman barks, holding Robin up by an arm and dangling him in front of him. “We don’t bite super-powered strangers. Who knows what kind of radioactive germs they might have.”

“But B!” Robin’s voice is so high and whiny, Conner is starting to feel dizzy. “He tried to pick me up! He called me cute! I’m not cute I’m terrifying.”

And the two just keep bickering back and forth, Robin eventually hanging with his ankles and hands hooked around Batman’s arm. Batman is trying to shake him off like a bug. They are both still arguing with each other as this happens.

“Did Batman just accuse me of having radioactive germs?” Wally is gaping at the scene in front of him.

As is everyone else. This is a total mindfuck. Who let Batman be in charge of a kid.

The two of them do eventually, reluctantly, start to trust the league. And they’ve been told they have to stay on the Watchtower until their magic expert gets back from a mission. Four days from now.

There’s one point when most others stationed on the Watchtower are sleeping or taking a break, and Batman is holding a drowsy Robin close to his chest and looking out the windows of the observation deck. Someone brought them some casual clothes to wear during their downtime, but they both have domino masks over their eyes. Those who see them like that can’t quite comprehend just how young Batman looks without the cowl.

“The moon looks so big,” a sleepy Robin mumbles, his cheek squished against Batman’s shoulder.

“That’s ‘cause it’s so much closer here,” Batman tells him, his voice incredibly soft. “Can you see where Gotham would be?”

Robin’s head turns just slightly, looking toward the Earth, and he hums, a fist moving up to scrub at his eye.

“S’over there,” he points. “With all the clouds ‘n stuff.”

“Looks tiny from up here, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Robin mouth opens in a comically wide yawn, then he shoves his face in Batman’s neck.

“S’not gonna fall from the sky, is it?”

“Nah.” Batman shifts his arms, holding Robin a little tighter. “This place is in orbit, kinda like how the moon is. It’s not gonna fall.”

“Would you catch it if it did?”

“I’d steal us a ship from here so fast, I wouldn’t need to catch it.”

“Kay.”

Batman presses his cheek to the top of Robin’s head, stray curls tickling his nose.

“Do you wanna practice your flips and shit in the morning? I’ll spot you.”

“Yeah,” Robin mumbles, “And I wanna scare Green Lantern by poppin’ outta the vent again. He screamed like a little girl when I landed on the table.”

“Do a flip when you do it and I’ll smuggle you an ice cream bar from their kitchen.”

“Deal.”

Batman has to twist his left arm funny so he can shake Robin’s hand, his right arm occupied by holding Robin up, and they shake on it.

Batman lets out a snort of a laugh, looking at Robin with an incredibly fond look on his face.

For everyone else, it’s a very long four days of them being menaces and encouraging each other to do more and more odd shit.

When they get turned back, they act like nothing was out of the ordinary. They’re not even phased when they’re reminded of some of the things they got into.

The way this man's entire face lights up when he sees Kory and his eyes shine at her 🥹

Ooooh ideas

I’ve had this wild headcanon circling in my head for a few days now. Just something quick before I head to bed: civilians working at the Watchtower.

Not just one or two, but a small team—maybe under a hundred people—hired to handle the kinds of jobs superheroes don’t always have the time, training, or bandwidth for. Doctors, nurses, administrative staff, financial analysts, tech support, even custodians and social media managers. And here’s the catch: not a single one of them ever reveals the heroes’ identities.

Why do they stay? Because the job is good. The environment is excellent. The pay? Amazing. Benefits? Better than anything you'd get working a normal nine-to-five on Earth. Sure, the occasional intergalactic invasion or magical mishap might make for a stressful Tuesday, but in general, it’s a surprisingly stable, fulfilling job.

Need help in the medbay? There’s a small, dedicated medical team. Parental leave for anyone? HR’s already got the paperwork ready. A hero injured on a League mission? Don’t worry—the League covers the medical expenses and provides recovery support.

I like to think Batman used to manage all of this himself. For a while, he tried to juggle it—because of course he did—but no matter how much people think he's superhuman, he's still one man with a full-time company to run. Eventually, he started recruiting a reliable team. People handpicked, vetted, and trusted. Civilians who could handle the loose ends most heroes wouldn’t even think about—basic logistics, liability, disaster response, benefits.

And it’s not just medicine. Sure, they’ve got alien tech that can heal broken bones in a flash, but they still need people. Nurses, therapists, surgeons. Heroes with those skill sets exist, but they have lives outside of those roles. They can’t do everything.

And then there’s social media. Bruce Wayne knows better than anyone how important public image is these days. The League needs PR experts—someone to coordinate interviews, run official Instagram accounts, post educational content on what to do if you find a magical artifact on your morning jog, or what civilians should avoid after a city-leveling alien fight. Maybe Superman and Wonder Woman are featured in the press, doing goodwill interviews. Batman? He stays behind the curtain, but someone still needs to manage his presence.

Every four weeks, someone’s getting brainwashed. Someone’s getting cloned. Someone’s going rogue. There needs to be a team that can step in, clean up, and carry on. People who understand that their work matters, even if it’s behind the scenes.

That’s why the Watchtower needs civilians. Trained, committed people doing honest, often thankless work. Heroes are heroes, sure—but they’re also people. They need lives, rest, and support. And sometimes, the best way to keep the world safe is by letting someone else carry part of the weight.

Justice League scenario where they meet little tiny Dick Grayson as Robin and immediately start taking bets on what on earth he is because the answer is obviously not human.

Green Lantern: I think Bats made a genetic clone of himself. One of his contingency plans, you know? If something happens to him, he has a well trained double to take his place eventually.

Green Arrow: No way! I refuse to believe anything that shares genetics with Batman could smile. I bet he's an alien that Batman found and ran tests on. I mean, have you seen the kid? I don't think he has bones.

Flash: Alien is a possibily, but have you seen the stuff the comes out of Gotham? I bet he just materialized out of the shadows one day. His smile scares me, I think he has to be a demon of some sort.

Dick Grayson, hanging upside down from a hanging light above them, where he has been silently eavesdropping the entire time: I am a normal human boy.

Lantern, Arrow, and Flash: -extended screaming-

don’t ask me what they’re doing I have no fucking clue 😭😭😭

bruce wayne and dick grayson's relationship has me in a fucking chokehold cuz like. What do you mean theyve known eachother the longest and he was Bruce's first Robin, his first son. What do you mean they fight more often than not now? That Bruce actually kicked him out ane fired him and Dick still grew up to be the man that he is despite that. What do you mean Bruce is so irrevocably proud of him and wants to thaw the ice on their relationship but hes already done too much hasnt he?

What do you mean he thinks that touching their relationship now might do more harm than good? That Dick doesnt try to fix it either because for once in his life he doesnt want to have to be the bigger person here. He wants his dad. He wants him to come get him and hold him and tell him he never did anything wrong and that hes sorry and that he loves him. That hes still his son. What do you mean Dick grayson has resigned himself to the fact that it'll never happen?

Every one of my works. If you don't like the shit I've tagged, you have no reason to be mad at me when you click

God help the day I actually learn how to properly animate I'm gonna become so insufferable

the joy of realizing someone is a similar type of freak as you

Don't mind me, I'll just be here, screaming incoherently about how beautiful this is

Wax Wings and Gotham Skies

Everyone always talks about how Icarus fell. Not enough people talk about how he flew.

About the boy who looked the sun in the eye and smiled. Who laughed as the heat blistered wax and feather, as gravity remembered his name.

They call him arrogant. Reckless. Say he should’ve known better. But maybe he did. Maybe he just wanted to see how close a mortal could get to divinity before the world pulled him back down.

Because there’s something sacred in the reaching. Something holy in the trying. And even if the fall is inevitable— there is still meaning in the flight.

And far from the sun, beneath a sky choked in smog and sirens, in the bones of a city that never sleeps, another boy is born to that same story.

No prophecy named him. No legacy claimed him. Not shaped in fire, nor vengeance, nor divine right. He was not forged like a weapon, or claimed like an heir. Instead, he saw the shape of a myth stitched into Gotham’s skyline—a shadow stretching across rooftops and ruins— and stepped toward it with empty hands and open eyes.

He was not called. But he came anyway.

Like Icarus, he didn’t wait for permission to reach. Tim Drake was a boy built from questions, sleepless nights, and the aching need to know. He was a boy carved from questions, sharpened by silence. The kind of boy who watched too long and listened too well. The kind of boy who stared too long into shadows and found himself staring back.

He pieced together wings from scraps— late-night stakeouts, news clippings and coffee-stained theories. A thousand tiny truths stitched together from silence. He studied the dark like scripture, read between bruises and newsprint until a pattern emerged.

No one gave him a path. So he drew one in ink and breath and quiet resolve.

Not for glory. Not to be seen. But because the pull of the sky was louder than fear. Because some part of him—deep and unrelenting—refused to stay grounded.

And maybe that was the beginning of the end. Perhaps chasing what was already breaking was always meant to end in ash. Maybe he was never meant to carry the weight of a symbol sewn in grief. Maybe no boy can hold the sun and not burn.

But when the cracks came, he didn’t look away.

He climbed. He reached. He flew.

And when the wax burned and the feathers tore loose, he didn’t scream.

He smiled.

Because like Icarus, he had touched something divine. And he knew— that to fall is to have once reached the sky and kissed the sun.