I know my friends and I (and maybe you guys too) will sometimes have fake relationships going on, like if we get into a joking argument I'll tell her I want a divorce. (Usually several times, resulting in multiple divorces and no marriages.) Other times we'll talk about how I cheated on her because she didn't satisfy me emotionally, as I want children and she does not, etc. I do this with multiple people. I want the whole YJ team to talk to each other like this (jokingly) and have the JL members catch them. It doesn't even have to be to this level, maybe member A refers to member B as their boy/girlfriend/wife/husband. Maybe they just refer to other team members as "baby" or "dear" whenever their mentor shows up.

Spoony is offered some help in the inevitable fight against the Black Lantern Spoony...but is he willing to accept it?

Krypto likes to take care of Kon as much as Kon likes to take care of Krypto. When Kon is hungry, Krypto fetches him food. When Kon is sleepy, Krypto fetches him blankets. And when Kon is horny, Krypto fetches him Tim. Which leaves Kon the not-so-fun job of awkwardly explaining to Red Robin why he's been dragged to Smallville in the middle of the night by a well-meaning superdog.

Kon has a crisis. Tim wears pajamas.

Drabbles inspired by the Texts From Last Night website.

Tim doesn't encourage the public, they do it themselves.

"His name is Tim and I think my dick will never understand the difference between fear and arousal again."

"Yeah. Thanks. Just what I need. Black lipstick."

Kon has a crisis. Tim wears pajamas.

Jason Todd isn't what Batman made him, he isn't what the Joker made him, he isn't what the League of Assassins made him, and he isn't what the Lazarus Pit made him. He's his own person and he's taking himself back, one home renovation at a time. Also he might just make friends with the people who are supposed to be his brothers while he's at it.

yeah, they're dysfunctional, traumatized, and occasionally murderous, but they're a family, and sometimes they even act like it. the term 'Bat-Family' does sound an awful lot like a mirror to 'Crime-Family'.

ne dislocated shoulder and two minor intergalactic incidents later, and all Tim wants is a shower, a mushroom and swiss cheeseburger, and a blowjob, preferably in that order.

Bruce Wayne is either really bad at Twitter, or really, really good.

The Batfamily go to see Hamilton.

Tim has a thing for buying sex toys (in bulk, Jason suspects) and Jason is constantly putting his foot in his mouth about what things his lover likes.

Jason's the Red Hood and being the Red Hood gives him sex magic. Duh.

"You're fucking with me." Tim blinks up at his uncle – and he's never seen his uncle in full armor before, not in person. It's kind of daunting. "Please tell me you're fucking with me, spawn."

The Bats take on the Mythbusters. Why? Because somethings are just too cool not to try in your spare time and with your family.

"This is the fortieth time." Jason says, "Just to point that out. I'm not complaining, or anything."

tim drake’s snapchat is 90% him making bruce wayne do normal middle-class american things and filming the results.

"On the bright side," Dick says as he shimmies down the building, "You didn't raise a group of homicidal, raging, vengeful killers and sociopaths so much as you raised a group of emotionally-volatile, obsessive, spiteful vigilantes and paper pushers."

"Congratulations on making it through one year of high school." Cassie says, holding out a cake, "We're proud of you."

Thanks, Gotham side of Tumblr.

Twenty is probably too young to die, even for a shinobi, but if anyone can kill Sakura with sheer attractiveness, it's Kori.

“Why does the paper say you're dating?” Dick asks, waving the Sunday edition in Bruce's face. Bruce doesn’t let his expression so much as twitch. Dick can sense blood in the water the same way a shark can, and he knows Bruce far too well. “Does it?” he asks mildly.

Jason wrestles the crazy, half-feral ninja to the ground ten blocks from the building he blew up with magic, which means it’s probably a Thursday in Gotham.

BATFAM and comics opinions

Hardison is 100% certain that there is no way Bruce Wayne could possibly be Batman. But maybe they should check it out, just in case.

CPS Agent, pointing at Tim Drake: We need to take him with us Red Hood: He's fine where he is CPS: He's a minor Hood: Timbo, you a minor? Tim: Can't prove it CPS: I mean, I can. There are records – Tim, who has just finishing hacking CPS to remove his own file: Oh really, tell me more about these records +++ A CPS agent gets sent to investigate a tip that Tim Drake has been abandoned by his parents and is living with the Red Hood. The CPS agent leaves with no Tim Drake, a date with Red Hood's lieutenant, and an intern who's promising to fix the IT systems at his office. It's a weird day for Theo.

A CPS agent gets sent to investigate a tip that Tim Drake has been abandoned by his parents and is living with the Red Hood. The CPS agent leaves with no Tim Drake, a date with Red Hood's lieutenant, and an intern who's promising to fix the IT systems at his office. It's a weird day for Theo.

“You know, just out of curiosity,” Red Robin begins, and Jason twists to face him, “are you from Gotham?” “What gave it away?” Jason drawls as fire sirens start up in the distance. “My anger issues, or my apathy in the face of the new supervillain flavor of the week?” (Or: That time Jason moves to New York and becomes a meme.)

“Quick! How do I help an omega that’s nearing critical heat?” Jason asked. “What?’ Roy asked. “The hell ya need to know that for?” “Because I got one with me right now and-- Ah!! Hands! Hands!” Or the one where Jason goes to drop off groceries at the Nest only to get dragged into helping Tim through a critical heat while Roy gives advice from the sidelines.

The costume version of the Red Robin uniform that Cass provided Jason with has been altered to fit his proportions. The fabric is form-fitting but not uncomfortable, and the bandoliers snap across his chest without issue… except for the sordid way they frame his pecs. Between the chest action, the absence of a cup, and the feathered cape, he really feels like he's about to turn tricks. But, well… he can't complain. At least he has it better than Tim.

Next time, he'll remember not to piss off Angela right before she’s supposed to make a Door for him.

Twenty is probably too young to die, even for a shinobi, but if anyone can kill Sakura with sheer attractiveness, it's Kori.

I, ___________________________, hereby acknowledge that this form represents my wishes should I contract phytoaphrodisiac-induced delirium (hereafter referred to as “PAID”) during engagements with or while apprehending Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley (“Poison Ivy”). - The bats have a sex pollen release form. Because of course they do.

"It's just basic coping skills," Jason scoffs. "Have none of you ever met someone with ADHD before?"

Dick pulled a face at the new paperwork. “Why do we gotta lie on this stuff, anyway? People aren’t gonna know what I can do exactly when I’m Robin...” “But they’ll suspect,” Bruce answered, typing something on his computer. “This way, if they think Richard Grayson isn’t all that impressive of a metahuman, it’s more cover for Robin flying through Gotham.” “Hmph.” --- In an AU where small, token superpowers are common enough to have their own optional line on forms alongside name and age, it's totally coincidence for Batman to have picked up a circus kid capable of flight. And a tire thief with super strength. And a- well, alright, the pint-sized photographer with not-actual-invisibility makes for a pattern, but even so. (He still tells the Justice League he doesn't allow metahumans in Gotham, though. Somehow with a straight face.) Series

Tim gets tired of constantly having to remove all the bugs Batman and Oracle plant in his apartment, so he cooks up a scheme to make them regret ever listening in. But he'll need some help, of course.

"Timmers sucked me pregnant," Jason blurts, and Tim watches in morbid fascination as Bruce goes through the five stages of grief in a millisecond. "I thought you said you weren't… sleeping together," Bruce says reproachfully. "He means that I, uh, impregnated him with my teeth. When I drank his blood. No sex involved," Tim explains. "It was an accident. I didn't even know I could do that."

Tiny Tim: all i want is for someone with a monster cock to fuck my brains out until im drooling, is that too much to ask? He sets his phone down and makes it about 5 seconds into reorganizing the granola bar shelf before realizing his fatal error. With a feeling like ice water being poured down his back, Tim snatches his phone back up and has to input his password 3 separate times before he calms down enough to type it correctly. Oh. Fuck. Tim is mentally adding this whole situation to the Top 10 List of Worst Things That Have Happened to Him Ever when he sees a new notification come in, not from one of the group chats this time. Jason Todd: wanna fuck? Or, Tim accidentally sends a text message to the wrong group chat, but it all works out in the end.

The news that Timothy Drake, Gotham’s cryptid millionaire, has shot the Joker dead during a public live-stream hits the world like a freight train—and that is just the opening salvo of his bugfuck plan. Maybe there exists, in the multiverse, a configuration of Jason Todd who will weather this with decorum, dignity and self-respect. This version of Jason Todd decides that the life of an academic is not, really, all that rewarding. In contrast, the life of Timothy Drake’s live-in house-husband is looking more appealing by the second.

Maybe it was because he didn’t have time to read the gossip columns; maybe it was because he seriously underestimated the audience’s power to “Ship It”, but Bruce didn’t *immediately* cotton onto the fact that his scheme made half the country think that his son was in love with, well, his *other* son.

"So, uh . . ." Kon says, skeptically eyeing the softly glowing rock in his hand. Metallo, like, threw it at his head. He has no idea why. "Is this supposed to do something or . . . ?" "It's pink," Kara says leerily, staying very firmly back.

Bernard pops the top off his water bottle, a roll of his wrist at the perfect angle and it comes right off, and pops the faucet in Tim’s very nice kitchen to cold. Tim presses a kiss to the back of Bernard’s neck before Tim moves to the fridge to get his own water. Bernard used to not drink as much water, but Tim drinks enough water for three people a day so Bernard naturally has followed- and now Bernard has no acne so he’s sort of mad about it actually. “The main character has two hands.” Bernard chimes easy and teasing. “Polygamy is the awnser here babe.” Tim peaks over the door of the fridge. “Oh? Is this you telling me something?” — Tim Drake, Bernard Dowd, and Kon-El have two hands each. They use them to hold onto each other.

Bernard is maybe not doing all that great at his first gala but Tim Drake is nothing if not a problem-solver and Conner Luthor . . . well, he's here too?

Bernard has Tim beta his fanfiction. It's get awkward. Meanwhile, Tim adored the self-insert/Red Robin fics Bernard's been writing and hiding from him.

There were a lot of things Bernard knew. He knew how to disinfect a wound, he knew the proper stance to take when punching someone, he even knew who both of his boyfriends were without them having actually told him yet. What he didn't know was how to break the news to his alien boyfriend that their vigilante boyfriend might've knocked him up. Rated mature for descriptions of reproductive biology, discussions of unprotected sex, implied sexual content and mention of nudity.

Darcy thinks maybe her new intern is a slut. Like–a big one. Big ol’ slut. Both metaphorically and literally, since he's 6’3” of Kansas beefcake and maybe the literal only human being alive who has a build remotely comparable to Thor's. So like, a billion steroids or secretly an alien, Darcy’s assuming.

“I need you,” Tucker blurts immediately as he bursts into the living room where he left Kon half an hour ago. Or maybe two hours ago. Hopefully not more than three . . . ? “Like in a sexy way?” Kon asks, sounding halfheartedly hopeful as he looks up from his position draped across the couch with one of Tucker’s mom’s blander gossip magazines, where he’s clearly been bored out of his mind. Tucker will make that up to him later, definitely, but right now– “Like in a rogue attack way,” he says, and Kon makes a face.