mild-and-hammered
Mild And Hammered
I think I’m a Superbat account. You think I’m stupid. We shall have a spring wedding.
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I love them so much
Robins: Being Robin
Issues #1-6
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Bruce: hey honey, can you help me train the kiddos this weekend?
Clark, not looking up from his newspaper: you need to test ways to take me down, don’t you?
Bruce:
Clark, sighing fondly: of course I will. Do you want to take some biomedical readings while you do?
Bruce: *begins googling engagement rings*
Bruce: Clark is my closest friend. I admire him more than I can ever say. I don’t know what I would do without him.
Also Bruce, teaching his kids how to use super senses against an opponent: so if you turn on the high frequency emitter I’ve added to all of your gauntlets and then go directly for the face while they’re bent over screaming, you can buy yourself a few extra seconds of —
#sorry for the format I’m on mobile#Bruce has a pet alien and Clark has a pet detective#and they’re in love#sometimes love is going along with your partner’s paranoid behavior to ease his mind#that means that sometimes love is also letting your partner’s kids beat the crap out of you
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Okay but all the Bruce threesome talk has me thinking about my firmly-held headcanon that Bruce is the number one pick for if they had to choose a third for Lois and Clark, especially considering in some universes (like the DCAU) she and Bruce dated for a bit
I’ve always had the same headcanon. I like to think they both know the other one has Bruce in mind, but they’ve never actually said it out loud to each other.
But every now and then, their small group hangouts with Bruce get this weird kind of tension. Lois looks at his shoulders or lips a little too long. Clark leans in toward Bruce no matter where he is. Bruce notes this but says nothing, waiting for them to figure it out and make a decision.
Because yeah, he’s a little bit of a slut. But he’s not blowing up Clark’s marriage just for funsies.
#Clark whining to Lois later like#does he just not think I’m cute?#do you think it’s my clothes? should I try a suit?#we know he likes smart brunettes so you’re obviously fine#is it the alien thing Lois?#Lois: he’s banged three aliens that we know of maybe it’s time we just ask
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The anon button is not for hate. The anon button is for horny and embarrassed about it.
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There are three kinds of LGBT headcanons:
Actual queer coding / metaphors ("Nimona is trans because her creator made her as a way to express his feelings as a trans person")
Vibes ("Link is genderless because I said so")
It's funny ("Phoenix Wright is asexual because he's the Ace Attorney")
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Level 1: But is it canon?
Level 2: I can fix the canon.
Level 3: I can make the canon worse.
Level 4: I can fill the canon with small, brightly coloured frogs.
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Some Wayne gala fits for the boys! I saw something similar by @fallen-jpg and wanted to do some of my own lol
Ps… I’m not good with backgrounds lol and I made Damian much older cause I didn’t want to draw a kid …
#look at duke!#he looks so good in check#double tartansall check i think?#Tim being as emo as he deserves
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Poor batkids trying to fake sick to stay home from school. Even if they could get past Alfred (they can't) papa bear Bruce comes in.
Do u have any soft parent bruce headcanons? Preferably for when the kids (Tim?) are hurt/sick/ something’s wrong?
the kids sleep in his bed when they’re feeling sick and sometimes that’s the first he hears of it (coming home from patrol to find them in his bed feverish etc)
he hovers like a mother hen when one of the kids is seriously injured and Alfred has to lure him away with case updates so he doesn’t make things worse
he won’t say anything out loud but if one of them is down/sad/sick sometimes he just moves his casework upstairs on his ipad in their vicinity
has a weird saying about illness and being mortal that he tries to (helpfully?) distribute as wisdom but no one has ever been entirely sure what it means (he learned it somewhere when he was gravely ill while training?)
can spot a fever from across the room (can smell it too if you’re unlucky…)
people forget his dad was a doctor sometimes but everyone who’s encountered him in soft dad mode sees Thomas Wayne, MD in him
#like he probably lets them sometimes anyway#because he's the sort of hypocrite for where he believes in mental health days for everyone but him#and also he knows the exhaustion and extent of their “nightlives”#bruce wayne
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Not sure if you’re taking requests, but…..Would you consider drawing something with Bruce and Damian being adorable together? 🥹🥹
Please enjoy
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When I asked for prompts @unshatters-your-teacup blessed me with
"Teeny tiny superbat prompts 👀 what about them hanging out on a rooftop mid-patrol?"
and
"Or maybe Clark interviewing Batman? (writers choice if they know each other’s identities)"
So here we go!
The Rooftop
“We can stop here,” Kal El said, floating down beside Bruce, where he crouched beside a gargoyle. “It’s been slow tonight.”
“Mmh,” Bruce grunted. He needed a rest,he knew, recently bruised ribs presenting their bill. He knew Superman knew it too.
Kal El –Clark– sat on the edge, feet dangling off the side of the building in his bright red boots. He kicked them a little, like a little kid. Bruce scowled at the way it made him want to smile, and settled from his crouch into a seated pose that mirrored Clark’s. He did not kick his legs.
Gotham often ranked among the top five, regularly top three, ugliest cities in the United States. Bruce had never thought so, but then, most people didn’t get to see it from the vantage point that he did. He wondered what Clark thought of it, comparing it to the mirrored glass and sparkle of Metropolis. Was he disgusted by the fetid Finger River to the north? Could he smell it from here? In the middle of summer Bruce could sometimes. That insalubrious bit of Old Gotham generally known as the Cauldron was certainly not the prettiest part of the city, but Bruce stared to the southeast, in the direction of the Belfry and some of Gotham’s better kept older buildings. Through the fine, misting rain, everything looked like a watercolor done in deep purples and navy shadows, here and there the amber of a street light flickered.
“It’s gorgeous,” Superman said, smiling softly.
Bruce studied him, then decided he was indeed being sincere. He reached into his utility belt and found the lollipops he usually kept for frightened kids. He handed one to Clark, who grinned and unwrapped it.
“You don’t even need to eat,” Bruce snarked, but there was no edge to it.
“I don’t need to read books, go for walks, or visit friends either,” Clark said. He leaned back bracing himself on his arms. One red-gloved hand brushed against Bruce’s fingertips. Clark didn’t seem to notice.
“I suppose you think that’s what you’re doing now? Visiting a friend?”
Clark grinned again, teasingly, and Bruce was glad of the cowl to hide his expression.
“Aren’t I?”
“You’re certainly visiting.”
“You love it,” Clark said.
Bruce stared at him, feeling the solar-flare warmth of him even through both of their gloves, burning away just at his fingertips. The bat signal lit the sky, briefly framing Clark’s profile in a halo.
“I do,” he said, shooting a grappling hook at the next building over.
-----------------------------
The Interview
Bruce had agreed to be interviewed as Batman for one reason only. It was a stupid reason, and when all of his various kids had expressed utter disbelief that he was being interviewed, he’d dodged their questions neatly, passing it off vaguely as a favor.
It wasn’t a favor.
Bruce was, well, he was just a little bit jealous maybe. The thing was, he and Superman had gotten close lately. Really close, really. He was probably one of Bruce’s closest friends, even if they didn’t know each other’s identities yet. Admittedly, Bruce’s other closest friends were Ollie and Dinah, Diana, and Harvey whenever he wasn’t trying to beat the shit out of Bruce.
He didn’t feel the same about Ollie and Dinah as he did about Kal El, though. Kal made his stomach swoop like he’d mistimed a grapple. And Kal spent a lot of time rescuing Lois Lane. Lois was smart, beautiful, and accomplished, Bruce had no issue with her as a person, he just wanted to know.
So when she’d asked if the Daily Planet could get the inside scoop when Batman had saved a gala, he’d agreed. The interview could go both ways, perhaps. Although, he’d be much more subtle about inquiring into her dating life, of course. All things considered, he was ready for Lois Lane to meet him in Grant Park that evening. He was not prepared for Clark Kent, who was sitting on a bench hunched over a tiny notebook. Bruce only recognized the man from the blurry photo they put next to the byline in the Planet.
“Oh!” The man said, standing up and promptly dropping the notebook, then, when he bent to pick up the notebook, the pen he’d stuck in his shirt pocket fell to the ground. He nearly brained himself on the underside of the bench scrabbling to pick it up. Behind the cowl, Bruce rolled his eyes. He was running on eight hours of sleep in the past three or four days, and the last thing he wanted was to sit through a half hour interview with the Daily Planet’s village idiot.
A voice in the back of his mind that sounded suspiciously like Alfred reminded him that he got rather mean when he was tired.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Kent said, at last standing and shifting pen and notebook to his left hand so he could offer his right to shake. Bruce did not shake his hand.
“I was expecting Miss Lane,” he said simply, letting his voice modulator turn it into a growl.
“Oh, I’m sorry, she was really excited that the Planet got the exclusive with you, but she’s been scheduled for an interview with the mayor and–” Bruce waved a hand, dismissing the issue.
“Go on,” he said. “Ask questions.”
“Why did you decide to fight crime?”
Bruce answered a few standard, rather banal questions, eyes flicking mostly around the park to make sure they weren’t being followed or otherwise hunted. He was secretly hoping to see the Bat Signal so he could have an excuse to leave without insulting the reporter who was, likely, a perfectly nice man. He just couldn’t tell Bruce what he wanted to know…probably.
“You work closely with Miss Lane?” Bruce asked, next time Kent was scribbling something. He finally really looked at the man, the line of his nose, the curve of his chin…
“Oh, yeah, we share a desk actually, Lois is great.”
“Must get annoying, all the flowers Superman gets her probably take up a lot of desk space.” It was not Bruce’s most subtle play. It was, in fact, a disastrously obvious one, but hopefully he could play it off as him being interested in Miss Lane, as opposed to Superman. Considering that half the tabloids in Gotham thought Batman was dating Bruce Wayne, he could deal with the rumor mill spinning that Batman had a crush on a reporter.
Kent was blinking at him, full lips parted, dark brow furrowed. He was remarkably pretty, in a way that niggled at Bruce’s mind. He’d seen the man before, but sleep deprivation and deja vu were mixing in an odd way.
“You mean the daisies she got for her birthday? How did you– world’s greatest detective, of course, but um, I think those were from her dad, she didn’t like them all that much.”
“Hmm,” Bruce said, keeping his face carefully neutral. At least Superman wasn’t dropping roses off for her every day or anything.
“Speaking of Superman, do you like him?”
“What?” Bruce worked hard to keep the shock from his voice.
“Oh, I mean working with him, you’re both Justice League members, and all that. Are you two friends or just colleagues?”
Ah, of course Metropolis’ newspaper actually wanted to interview Batman about their local golden boy. He wasn’t particularly upset about it.
“Superman is one of my closest friends,” he said simply, trying not to panic at being so plain about it.
“That’s very high praise,” Kent said. Was he blushing? Why was he blushing?
“Not exactly, I have very few,” Bruce said, feeling the poison of sleep deprivation sinking hooks further into his brain. The stupid reporter was cute when he blushed.
“However,” Bruce continued, realizing how his statement could be construed. “Kal El is someone I trust completely to have my back. He’s an asset to the Justice League, and those of us that get a chance to know him are truly lucky.”
“Wow,” Clark breathed, scribbling. “What about you Mister, uh, Batman, who knows you?”
Bruce froze at the question and blue eyes widened behind thick-framed glasses.
“Oh no, I meant uh, when you aren’t in the cape…readers want to know…there’s rumors you’re dating Brucie Wayne.”
“Mister Wayne is an acquaintance,” Bruce said, simply. Of course, the gossip mill did love to turn.
“No comment, then,” Kent said wryly. “Understood. Between the two of us, I think you could do better.”
“Do you?”
“W-well,” Kent stuttered. “All I mean is that you deserve someone who…understands the burden, I think. Of the cape.”
“And what do you know of the ‘burden of the cape’,” Bruce said, smirking slightly.
“Nothing, obviously, it was just a silly thought.” Kent’s face was so red, scarlet even in the dim light as the sun set and lamps flickered on in the park. Scarlet like a cape… The man bit his lip and the dimple on his chin…
“Kal?” Bruce whispered.
Mortification, then guilt flickered across Kent’s face. Then he sighed, resignation tipping his broad shoulders downward. He pulled off the glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“I guess I should know better than to try and fool you, B,” he said. “Sorry for the–” he waved a hand at himself, the notebook, the park in general. “Everything. Lois really is busy, though, and the Planet still wanted the interview.”
“You have a day job at the Daily Planet?” Bruce asked.
“Yes,” Kal said, then, for the second time that night, he stuck out his hand to shake. “Clark Kent, mild mannered reporter from Kansas, at your service.”
“Batman, bad mannered protector of Gotham,” Bruce said, shaking his hand. Kal– Clark– laughed.
“Why ask about Bruce?” Bruce asked. He wasn’t opposed to Kal knowing, certainly not now that Bruce had uncovered his secret, but he wanted to know if he had let something slip.
“Oh,” Kal said, blushing. He looked more human, much more like a Clark-from-Kansas when he did that, as opposed to Kal El-from-Krypton. “It’s very silly, please don’t tell anyone.”
“Who would I tell?”
“I wanted to know if you were seeing someone,” Kal said. “I don’t know, I guess I just wondered if…”
“Mmh,” Bruce grunted as Kal trailed off miserably. “I agreed to the interview to find out if you were dating Lois Lane.”
“What?” Kal’s head came up, eyes confused. “Why–oh, I guess my dating life could be a liability for the league. Especially since Lois gets kidnapped so much now, when we’re just friends.”
“Just friends?”
“Yeah.”
Bruce hesitated a long while. “I was not considering the league in my inquiries,” he said at last.
“No?”
“No. Do you really think I could do better than Bruce Wayne?”
“Um, I don’t know if better was actually fair of me to say–”
“What about you, do you think you could do better than Bruce Wayne?”
Kal, Clark, gaped at Bruce. “I’d never really–”
Bruce pulled off the cowl.
#dc#superbat#clark kent#batman#superman#bruce wayne#ficlet#my writing#ask answers#prompts#identity reveal
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favorite Bruce Wayne hc of the week: you’re allowed to follow him into the Cave to continue your argument, but he’s going to start undressing and pulling off armor while heading for the showers and if you get an eyeful, that’s on you.
It’s an effective tactic and stops a good 60% of those arguments in their tracks. The remaining 40% are usually intense enough to follow Bruce into the showers and yell at him while he’s casually showering off grime and blood.
#Alfred hears an argument start over the coms and leaves to put noise canceling headphones in#either theyre going to keep arguing#or they're going to be loud for other reasons#either way Bruce is on his own
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Jason: *terrified, thinks he's gonna die*
Bruce: *used to carrying Dick around like a ferret* small child. so small.
#absolutely love the description of carrying Dick like a ferret#that is exactly what you do with a wiggly acrobat kid#poor Jason lol#queue as in queer
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So. Someone was an asshole in your comment section or inbox.
Here are some steps you can take that aren't crying, murder, or giving up writing forever.
Taking a walk/exercise (great way to get rid of the adrenaline/etc that come up with intense feelings)
Ditching Tumblr/ao3/etc for the night/day (short break)
Deleting the ask/comment and any emails containing it
Writing the thing they were criticizing out of pure spite (if it's already present, double down and make it more apparent in the fic)
Turning off commenting on your fic and/or anon asks. No really, it can be a good break.
Telling yourself "I do this for free and my writing is awesome" or "I'm not going to let the turkeys get me down" or "what a sad insecure bitch, glad that isn't me" or some variation of the above.
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bruce: old money
damian: ancient money
tim: new money
dick: no money
jason: owes money
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Someone’s about to get stabbed, idk who yet
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I went to the comic store on my bday and issue 2 of Boy Wonder was sold out, so I drew this to cope. I’ll have to wait for my order to come in next week 🥲 literally waited months for this issue I’m so salty
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