꒰Tired In The Dark: Batfam X Toddler! Reader,.꒱

King of My Heart

Summary: "The story of your burgeoning relationship with Jackie Taylor told through a series of drunken encounters. College au."

A/N: drunk girlfailure jackie my beloved. its not described graphically but there are mentions of jackie throwing up a few times if that bothers you. based loosely on this ask.

August.

The first time you met Jackie Taylor she was on her knees on a dirty bathroom floor puking her guts out into the toilet. Normally you would have just minded your business, but you weren’t nearly drunk enough to ignore the accompanying sounds of her sobs. You stumble slightly into the room, squinting slightly as the bright fluorescent lights are so much brighter than anything else at the party. “Hey.” You say cautiously as you carefully drop to your knees next to her. You place a comforting hand on her back as you draw her hair behind her head and hold it out of the way. 

Your nose wrinkles disgustedly at the whole experience, but you turn your head away from her as you gently rub her back. “Just get it out pretty girl, it’s gonna be okay.” You murmur comfortingly. You do your best to ignore the sounds of her retching lest you join her, but you can tell that she’s finally stopped sobbing so you decide talking must be working. You keep up the encouragement until you finally hear her flush it away. She leans back exhaustedly as she shifts off of her knees to sit back against the tub and buries her head in her hands. You awkwardly drop your hands off her, sitting just a little too close to her now that she’s stopped being sick.

She brings her hands back down from her face as she stares pathetically over at you. She smiles weakly in greeting as you take her in: her wild hair, bloodshot eyes, red nose, and her mascara running down her face in tracks. You smile back, not wanting to let her on to how much of a mess she looks like right now. You suspect she might still be on the verge of crying, but considering the way her sobs were rocking her entire body when you walked in you were willing to take it as a win. “Are you alright, pretty girl?” You ask genuinely. You start to regret the question as her lip starts quivering as her eyes tear up again. 

Your eyes widen suddenly. Oh shit. You think. You barely have time to catch her as she launches herself into your arms on the bathroom floor. You awkwardly wrap your arms around her as you receive a lap full of crying girl. She buries her head in your shoulder, which you think is far too intimate for a stranger you met in the bathroom but you certainly weren't going to be the one to tell her that. You can vaguely hear her whimper out some words but she’s crying so hard you can’t really make heads or tails of them. You finally catch something about ‘drunk’ and ‘Shauna’.

“Who’s Shauna?” You ask while rubbing at her back, figuring she wanted to talk about it. She spills every last little detail between sobs into your shoulder. You can’t help but be strangely invested in the whole story. You did ask with the intention to comfort her but you found yourself drawn more and more into the drama of it all. You wondered what the fuck happened to make her lonely enough to spill all this information to the first stranger she found on the bathroom floor, but that was none of your business.

“What?” You ask, gasping in shock. She pulls back, eyes red and swollen as she nods seriously. She wipes at the tear tracks on her face as she finally manages to calm herself down.

“I know. I know.” She draws out dramatically.

“She really said all that shit after she slept with your boyfriend?” You asked in disbelief, shaking your head as she hums in acknowledgment. You really weren’t expecting to get such good gossip out of this venture, but this shit was better than reality TV. You reach up above you to pull a hand towel off of the bar and gently bat her hands away as you wipe her mascara off her face. She’s sitting fully in your lap at this point, which you're doing your best to ignore, and lets her eyes close as you take care of her face. When she opened her eyes again the expression on her face was unreadable but her big eyes seemed to stare straight into your soul.

You shift uncomfortably as you look away, which is harder than you’d think considering how close to you she’s sitting. As if she’s suddenly becoming aware that this isn’t a normal amount of intimacy to share with a stranger she mumbles a quick sorry, but interestingly enough makes no actual move to get out of your lap. What the fuck is wrong with this girl? You wonder idly but decide it would probably be easier to just go along with it at this point. She has this way of making her socially unacceptable actions seem perfectly normal as if you’d be the weird one if you questioned her about them.

You listen quietly as she talks your ear off about this and that, sitting back against the wall with your legs crossed as she sits sideways across your lap. She throws her arm over your shoulder as she talks, seemingly getting more comfortable the more you allow it. By the time she finally stands up and stumbles back to her dorm, you think you must know everything there is to know about soccer and the epic rise and fall of her friendship with this Shauna girl. You stand up slowly as she leaves, your legs going numb for how long she was sitting on top of them. You stumble back to your own apartment falling straight into bed, emotionally exhausted from the entire experience.

…

October.

“Y/N!” Jackie calls out happily. You can tell from the slightly glazed look in her eyes that she’s already had one drink too many. You weren’t entirely sure how she had learned your name but were admittedly pretty curious to know if she had gone out of her way to find out. Secretly you hoped she did. You’d run into her at a few more parties, not all of them as eventful as the first. You murmur a quick goodbye to the friends you came with as you walk over to see what she wants. Her face lights up when she sees you coming. Her chair is far too small for the both of you to sit comfortably, but you still acquiesce as she excitedly pats the seat next to her. You shift a little awkwardly at the way it pressed your thighs together, but she certainly doesn’t seem upset about it.

“Hey, gorgeous.” You greet a little awkwardly. You still didn’t know her name, but she always flushes with pleasure at the compliments so you’ve decided just to roll with it.

She pats you excitedly on the thigh as she starts talking, mouth immediately moving a mile a minute as she catches you up on everything that’s happened since the last time you ran into her. You find yourself strangely invested in her life and listen intently as she speaks. She seemed oddly lonely for such a bubbly girl, and you wondered why she was having so much trouble finding other people to talk to at these parties when she obviously could have made a lot of other friends if she tried.

“God, I know.” You interrupt. “I had a professor like that my first semester. The average was like 45% and somehow we were the problem.” Jackie nods enthusiastically in agreement as she speaks.

“He acts like he doesn’t have a one-star rating!” She groans, leaning her head against your shoulder. She pouts up at you, as if she’s the only person to have this problem ever. You raise your cup to your lips to hide your grin, but judging by the knowing look she sends you it didn’t work too well. She sighs dramatically in offense, shaking her head as if disappointed. Jackie catches sight of your empty cup, suddenly standing up and dragging you off to the kitchen with her.

“Jesus!” You exclaim as you stumble after her, a little dizzy from the sudden change in position. You were honestly surprised that she managed to pull you up like that: she was definitely a lot stronger than you gave her credit for. She rummages through a few glass bottles sitting on the table before she finally finds the one she wants. She grabs your cup from you as she starts pouring you a drink. “Oh,” You say in surprise. “Is that for me?”

Jackie rolls her eyes as if to say obviously, as she continues. “Then this one girl was like maybe the people who didn’t study are bringing the average down, as if I didn’t have to step over her passed out on the floor the night before the exam.” You laugh softly as you look up at Jackie with an overly fond grin. Your eyes lock as she returns an equally fond look, the two of you getting lost in each other in the middle of the kitchen. You nearly jump apart at a loud yell of glee coming from another room. Jackie’s hand flails slightly, knocking over the bottle she just sat down on the table. It falls over on your hand with a loud thud, making you hiss in pain as you draw it back towards your chest.

You groan as you flex your fingers painfully, but it fades quickly enough that you know it isn’t anything serious. Jackie bats your other hand away so she can examine it closely, poking at your fingers as if to determine any damage. “What the fuck is that going to do?” You ask wryly, the corners of your lips quirking up in amusement. She ignores you as she keeps messing with your hand, failing at what she obviously considers to be a subtle move as she laces your fingers together.

“I’ll have you know that poking at the wound is a tried and true method.” Jackie defends with a too-wide grin. “I was really worried about your fingers.” You shake with silent laughter, your face contorting weirdly as you try to choke it back. “What?” She asks in confusion, which finally sends you spiraling over the edge.

“I bet you were.” You say between peels of laughter, flexing your fingers in an obscene gesture. Jackie scoffs, a blush immediately covering her face, and gently shoves at your shoulder in reproach.

“See if I nurse you back to health again,” Jackie mutters with a pout, looking adorably embarrassed as she backs away from you.

“Wait! Wait, Doctor…” You trail off playfully, giving her an expectant look. She grins as she shakes her head.

“Guess you’ll just have to keep calling me pretty, Y/N.” She says smugly. You slowly grin at the realization: she’s been purposely keeping her name from you to make you compliment her. She waves her fingers playfully as she turns and disappears off into the party.

…

November

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, you were far more invested in your current conversation, but your interest immediately peaked at the mention of someone crying in the bathroom. It couldn’t be… No, You think. It definitely is. You sigh, abandoning your cup on the table as you walk off to find her. You follow the sound of sobs up to a familiar bathroom and sure enough there she is. She’s just crying this time, not throwing up, so you’re deciding to count it as progress. She looks up quickly as you open the door giving you a watery smile. She doesn’t seem all that surprised that you’re here, in fact, she seems like she was rather expecting it. You get the strange feeling that you are running late.

Jackie looks utterly pathetic sitting on the bathroom floor, holding her knees up to her chest with her arms wrapped tightly around them. Her bottom lip quivers as she blinks away tears and you're nearly overcome with the desire to hide her away from anyone who could ever hurt her. She has this strange way of inspiring extreme loyalty even in someone whom she hasn’t even graced with her name. 

You sink to the ground next to her, opening your arms wide as she immediately scrambles into your lap. She buries her head in your shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around you as she shakes with sobs. You wrap your arm around her stomach and rub the other hand against her back, cradling her as you try to comfort her the best way you can. You’ve never been particularly good at comforting people, but you and Jackie work well in the sense that she doesn’t seem to expect you to be. She seems pretty content– as content as someone sobbing on a bathroom floor can be– with just having your attention as you murmur your best attempt at comforting words.

You’ve gotten three ‘let it out pretty girl’s, two ‘it’ll be okay gorgeous’s, and a ‘you need to breathe baby’ before Jackie finally manages to get herself together. Jackie sighs against your neck, wiping her eyes off on your shirt. You resist the urge to groan, knowing from experience how hard her mascara was to get out of your clothes. You shiver as Jackie’s cold hand brushes up against the back of your neck as she plays with the edge of your collar. You find it incredibly distracting as she rolls it between her fingers as she says, “You came.”

You shrug. “Heard there was someone crying in the bathroom.”

Jackie hums in acknowledgment as she looks down at the hand wrapped around her stomach. “You keep taking care of me.” She says quietly. “I didn’t think I’d ever have someone to take care of me like that again after…” She looks so incredibly sad, but at the same time, she stares at you with such a large amount of affection that it makes you squirm in discomfort.

“It’s not a bad gig,” You admit. “Out of all the girls that could have been crying all over me at a  party I’m glad it’s you.” She smiles evenly throughout but you can see her eyes narrow slightly at the mention of other girls. You shift nervously underneath her and she whines quietly in protest as she tries to hold you still. You roll your eyes as you lean your head back against the wall, getting the sense that you're going to be here for a while.

“What brought you to the bathroom floor this time?” You ask.

Jackie sends you an amused grin as she asks, “Would you believe I dropped something?” You roll your eyes as you give her an expectant look. She sighs exaggeratedly, as if she hasn’t been impatiently waiting to talk your ear off about whatever’s upset her this entire time. If she’d had the ability to speak while she was crying that hard you're sure she would’ve already told you several times over.

You listen patiently as she speaks, reacting at all the appropriate points. You tilt your head in consideration as you think, feeling strangely proud at how high Jackie seems to hold your opinion as she watches you thoughtfully. “You miss this Shauna girl a lot, don’t you?” You state more than ask. Jackie nods slowly, as if a little embarrassed to admit it. You couldn’t say you approved much of the desire, but you knew Jackie needed to try to mend this relationship for her own sake. There’s only so many times you can find someone sobbing on the floor before it starts to get concerning.

“Do you think you can forgive her?” You ask. Jackie seems to consider this for a long time as she cozies up in your lap. The longer you sit here the more aware you become of just how warm her body feels against yours, regardless of how cold her hands seem to be, and you're more than content to bask in the feeling while Jackie thinks. You can feel the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes and it starts to lull you to sleep. You startle as she suddenly speaks, having almost forgotten what you were sitting around for.

“I just want her to say she’s sorry, that’s all.” Jackie’s eyes prickle with tears that you're quick to wipe away, placing an affectionate kiss against the side of her head in an effort to stifle her tears. You really don’t want to do this again tonight. Jackie’s eyes widen as she flushes, burying her head further in your shoulder. You aren’t quite sure what that’s about, but at least she stopped crying.

You sit on the bathroom floor with her sitting pretty in your lap for quite a while, moving on from Shauna as you talk about anything and everything she could think of. You really enjoy spending time with her even as strange as she seems, but you really wish you could start meeting more in other places. Your legs ache something terrible from sitting in that same spot for so long, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world as Jackie prances off happily a few hours later. You groan as you pull yourself to your feet, leaning heavily against the counter as you wait for the feeling to come back. Still, you managed to get at least one thing out of tonight. 

“Jackie.” You say quietly, deciding you quite like the name. Finally getting it out of her was like prying teeth, but you think it really fits her.

…

New Year's Eve

The first time Jackie Taylor had run into you right as you were leaving class you had chalked it up to chance. The two of you had gotten lunch together, leaving you with the realization that she’s still that delightful mixture of strange and kind even when sober. The next four times that Jackie had run into you had left you more and more suspicious, but you didn’t seem to mind as much as you probably should. If you were ever unsure, the look of utter happiness on Jackie’s face when you had run into her outside of her own class would have changed your mind. She’d hung off your arm the entire afternoon, dragging you around to show you all her favorite spots on campus as if they were super niche and underground.

Despite these encounters, you were more than a little surprised when Jackie Taylor had plopped down in the seat across from you in the library– mostly because you weren't aware she knew where the libraries were, let alone what time you’d be there– but the surprise had quickly turned to fondness when she asked where you were going to be for New Years. A combination of Jackie not wanting to stay the whole break with her family and you living off campus has brought you here: leaning against the wall at a dingy frat house as you nurse your drink. 

It wasn’t the best night you’ve ever had, admittedly already starting on a sour note as some guy hit you with a lame question of “What's a pretty thing like you doing here?” in what he obviously believed to be a charming voice before you’d even made your way into the door. You scowled at him but before you could answer Jackie popped up out of nowhere and placed a surprisingly firm hand on your arm as she dragged you far away from him. Jackie happily talked your ear off as she handed you a drink, even if she had kept glaring in his direction. You’d ended up away from the rest of the party, not being able to hear each other well over the music, which left you standing awkwardly by yourself without her.

Jackie had walked off to get another drink a few minutes ago, not that she needed it as drunk as she was already, and you were admittedly concerned with how long it was taking her. You were about to set off to find her when she excitedly wandered back in. “Y/N!” Jackie calls out in surprise when she sees you as if you weren’t exactly where she left you. “I’ve been looking for you!” She smiles so wide it splits her face as she finally finds you.

“You found me.” You say with a grin, unable to stop yourself in the face of her clear exuberance.

“Where’d you go?” She asks in a whiny voice. “I missed you.”

You laugh fondly. Where did I go? “I missed you too.” You say instead. Jackie gasps quietly, looking a little hesitant.

“You did?” She questions, eyes wide. You nod and Jackie looks at you for a moment like you put the stars in the sky. She clears her throat suddenly as she glances away before sending you what you're sure was meant to be a flirty smile. “Of course you did.” Jackie giggles, more self-confident than ever in her inebriation. 

“So, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing here?” Jackie teases. You scoff as you gently push at her shoulder. Jackie looks far too proud of herself at the moment. Two could play at that game.

“Good thing you were there to save me, yeah?” You tease. Jackie flushes slightly at the comment.

“Save you?”

“Oh, yeah. A real knight in shining armor.” You confirm with a wry smile. You suspected Jackie was more jealous than anything, but you appreciated how fast she had gotten you out of there. Even if the idea of having her pay so much attention to you made you a little lightheaded. Jackie preens at the comparison, grinning smugly over at you.

Jackie reaches out to lean against the wall next to you, but clearly misjudges the distance as she crashes face-first into it with a loud thud. She reels back with a pained cry, nearly tripping backward in her haste only to be saved by your quick reflexes as you grab at her arm. She stumbles into you as she gets her feet back under her, one hand covering her nose. “Fudge!” She curses as she pulls her hand away and finds blood.

Fudge? You mouth in surprise. Whatever. You’ve got bigger problems. You quickly pull her by the hand to the kitchen as you go searching for paper towels. You gently hold them up to her face to soak up the blood as you hold her tightly against you in comfort. You can hear her jagged breathing as she tries not to cry, not wanting to risk further irritating her nose. You whisper soothing words in her ear as you try to calm her down.

Jackie's hands clench tightly around the fabric of your shirt, enjoying the proximity despite the reason behind it. She’s long since calmed down before you try to peel away from her. She whines pitifully but doesn’t make a move to stop you, her hand falling limply to her sides. 

Jackie hisses as you pull the paper towel away from her face to inspect the damage. Jackie watches you closely as you carefully turn her face to look at her nose. “It doesn’t look that bad, Jackie,” You say as you pull your hand away. She looks upset at the loss, her bottom lip sticking out slightly in a pout. You consider her for a moment. “Does it still hurt?” 

Jackie pauses in consideration before suddenly whining in pain, nodding insistently. You narrow your eyes, not quite believing it, but you return to fussing over her even as she seems to have a miraculous recovery. After she stops whining about it you take a wet paper towel to her face as you gently wipe the blood away. You're holding on to the side of her face as you turn it side to side as you clean her up. Jackie seems entirely focused on the contact, eyes nervously darting around as her face burns bright red.

You're just pulling the paper towel away from her face as you hear the countdown begin, nearly startling you away as the screaming starts. You’re about to join in the revelry when Jackie lunges forward and kisses you just as the new year begins. Jackie hisses in pain as her nose touches your face but doesn’t pull away for a second. You eagerly reciprocate the kiss despite your surprise at its origins, and have to resist the urge to push forward as she pulls away. 

Jackie smiles nervously at you as she stumbles away. You try to call out for her but she throws a “Sorry, I’m more tired than I thought!” over her shoulder as she rushes out of the kitchen. You're left standing in the middle of the kitchen still holding the bloody paper towel as partygoers scream happily around you.

What the fuck was that?

…

Valentine’s Day.

You didn’t see Jackie for a couple of weeks after classes resumed due entirely to the way she’d turn tail and run every time she saw you so much as looking at her. She’d shown up outside your class one day as if nothing ever happened claiming a family emergency that she’d insist upon no matter how much you grilled her about it. You finally gave up on arguing when she caved and apologized for it, seeming oddly guilty given what she was claiming. You were admittedly very excited when she asked you to go out to a party with her for Valentine’s Day, only to be quickly disappointed when she followed it up with a “As friends, of course!” Whatever. 

She’s gotten progressively drunker as the night goes on, practically hanging off of you as she giggles far too loudly at a joke that you didn’t think was nearly funny enough to warrant that kind of reaction. She’s gotten noticeably flirtier as the night goes on as if every drink she throws back is emboldening her more and more. Despite your concern with how much she’s drinking you find yourself endlessly charmed as she squeezes at your arm and gently makes fun of you, always giving you her full attention. You don’t think she’s looked away from you once in the last hour which would be concerning coming from anyone else but Jackie seems to make it work as always.

“You’re like… really pretty,” Jackie says suddenly, changing the topic as she blinks at you in what you're sure was meant to be a wink. You flush slightly but try to shake it off.

“I think you’re really pretty too, Jackie.” You reassure, smiling softly at her. Jackie groans as she shakes her head.

“No!” She whines, looking frustrated.

“No, you’re not pretty?” You question, tilting your head to the side in confusion.

“No, no. I’m pretty,” Jackie says almost immediately, making you laugh. “You’re just so…” She trails off, reaching her hands out to cup the side of your face. You inhale sharply as the motion brings your faces closer together.

“Jackie?” You question softly, remembering how she acted the last time she tried this.

“So pretty…” She murmurs again, “Made me nervous.”

“You’re… You’re not going to run off on me again?” You ask slowly. Jackie shakes her head exaggeratedly fast, looking like she immediately regrets it as she quickly backs up with a hand flying up to her mouth. You jump away from her, terrified of her throwing up on you, but you slowly relax as it seems to be a false alarm. 

Jackie still looks a little nauseous but otherwise no worse for wear. You sigh. You should probably get Jackie home before the night ended in tears. You couldn’t for the life of you figure out why she’d drink so much if she knew she had such a low tolerance for it every time. “Let’s get you home gorgeous.” You say placatingly. Jackie sighs, blowing a stray piece of hair out of her face. She nods as she holds her hand out four you to hold.

You lead her by the hand out of the party, looking at her expectantly as you get to the street. She stares back at you in confusion, happily swinging your joined hands between you. “Where do you live?” You prompt her helpfully. Jackie shrugs. What?

“What’s your dorm?” You ask slowly. She shrugs again.

“Dunno,” Jackie says.

“You don’t know?” You ask with a touch of irritation. Jackie frowns as she makes a big show of thinking about it.

“I don’t remember.” She concludes finally. You look away in frustration, fingers coming up to pinch at the bridge of your nose as you try to calm down. You miss the knowing grin on her face as she quickly stifles it before you turn back.

“You don't remember where you live?” You ask in disbelief. She shakes her head hard enough that she starts to look dizzy, leaning heavily on you as she loses her balance and almost takes the both of you down. You eye her wearily, not sure what you're supposed to do with the drunk girl hanging off of you. Judging by your typical meeting site– holding her hair back as she throws up and sobs her life story to you– you suspect there isn't anyone you could put her off on even if you tried. 

“Do you wanna sleep at mine?” You ask finally, deciding it would be better not to leave her there. 

“Mm,” Jackie murmurs happily as she clings to you. You’re practically holding her up at this point as she doesn't seem to want to stand. She doesn't seem to want to do anything but climb all over you at this point. 

"I'm gonna take that as a yes. Start screaming you're being kidnapped if you disagree." You say playfully, not even sure if she's awake enough to listen to you. You're practically carrying her down the sidewalk to your apartment at this point and you dread to think how it looks to passersby. 

“Noooo.” She whines quietly in your ear, barely loud enough for you to hear it. “Please don't throw me in your dungeon.” You shudder at the hot breath directly against your ear. She doesn't seem to mind though, as she starts resting her head on your shoulder and breathes against your neck. You can admit to being slightly self-conscious as the gorgeous girl hanging off of you stares at your face from 6 inches away. 

She's so strange, You think absentmindedly. You decide that you kind of like it anyway. You make a squeaking noise that you'd later deny as she presses a gentle kiss against your jaw. “Thank you for taking care of me.” She murmurs with a tired grin on her face. Her eyes are barely open as she stares up at you. Her hair is wild and unkempt and she smells suspiciously like vomit, but under the streetlights you think she's never looked prettier. You flush at the thought, looking away from Jackie as you drag her to your apartment. 

You pull her into your bed the second you step into your room, deciding to forgo changing under these conditions. She immediately latches on to you the second you're within grabbing distance. She clings on to you like a child, whining petulantly when you try pulling away. After you stop fighting she starts positioning your limbs where she wants them, ending up with her curled back against your chest with one of your arms and a leg thrown over her. 

You're in the strange position of holding someone against your own will: she holds on to your arm so tightly you're not sure you could get it back without hurting her. She's surprisingly strong for how tiny she is. There's a faint stinging where her fingers are wrapped around your arm, you think she might have drawn blood. You sigh quietly as you decide to just go limp. You've slept in worse places, after all. God was she fucking cold, though.

You're sitting against the edge of your bathtub with Jackie resting her head on your thigh as you gently massage her scalp with your fingertips. She’d immediately woken up hungover, rushing off to be sick as you were left comforting her over it again. Jackie pulls her head back with a groan, looking up at you from her position on the floor. She sits up to move between your spread legs, wrapping her arms tightly around your back as she buries her face into your stomach. She whines against you, prompting you to resume running your fingers through her hair. 

Jackie murmurs a muffled “I’m sorry,” into your stomach, making you shudder at the feeling of her breath. You try to pull her away to look at her but she only digs in more, refusing to let herself be moved from the safety of your body.

“What are you sorry for?” You ask finally, giving up on looking at her.

“Ruined it again.”

You sigh, sliding a hand down to rub comforting circles against the side of her face with your thumb.

“You didn’t ruin it, Jackie.” She scoffs.

“Did too,” She insists.

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did no-” You trail off, shaking your head. “What are you, 12 years old?” Jackie giggles as she pulls away, smiling gently up at you from her knees. She looks serious all of a sudden, resting her hands against your knees as she sighs.

“I wanted you to be my valentine,” She admits, “I chickened out asking you.” You grin softly, looking incredibly pleased.

Jackie, upon noticing your reaction, grins back at you as she squeezes your knee affectionately. “Always more confident when I’m drunk,” She says wryly. “Got too drunk again though.”

You hum in acknowledgment. “You could ask again?” You offer.

“Do you want-” She starts.

“Yes,” You interrupt, making her laugh. “Maybe somewhere without alcohol, yeah?” You suggest playfully. Jackie’s face scrunches up as she nods in agreement.

“Never going to drink again,” She mutters, looking a little ill still. You don’t think she’ll hold out on that for too long, but you’ll enjoy making fun of her again when the time comes for it.

The two of you lock eyes for a long moment and Jackie slowly leans up. You shake your head insistently as you press your hand flat against her mouth. “Not until you brush your teeth, Romeo.” You mutter. Jackie whines in protest as she slumps back against her legs. Her eyes narrow as she licks at your hand making you squeak in surprise as you draw your hand back. She looks smug at the action, slowly rising to her feet as she starts to look through your drawers for a spare toothbrush.

At least she knows what she wants.

…

Two Years Later.

“Y/N!” Jackie complains, huffing in annoyance as she drags you stumbling out of the bar. You were more unsteady than you'd thought you'd be, probably owing to the last drink Jackie had warned you not to get. 

Whoops.

“Whoops?” Jackie asks, rolling her eyes. As annoyed as she is she doesn't seem to be actually mad, maybe even a little amused at the situation. You grin widely, tugging her against your side as you throw your arm over her shoulder. 

“Did I say that out loud?” You ask, just a touch too loudly. Jackie laughs softly, leaning against your side as she wraps her arm around your back to guide you home. 

“I told you that you'd had enough.” She says wryly. 

“It tasted good.” You defend weakly, pouting over at her. She hums in consideration, pausing for a moment before she swiftly kisses you. You eagerly begin to reciprocate but she quickly pulls away as she gives you a teasing grin. She slips out of your arm and she makes a big show of licking her lips before nodding decisively. 

“It does taste good,” Jackie confirms as she pulls you by the hand down a side street and up to the gates of your apartment building. You groan in disappointment which just makes her laugh. Her smile lights up her face like it so often does, and you find yourself lost in her eyes. As much of a rush as Jackie has been to get you home she's more than willing to let you admire her, the corner of her lip quirking into a smirk the longer you stare. 

You can't help the rush of excitement that comes over you as Jackie reaches over and tugs you forward by your belt loops. Her hand rests on your hip before it slowly slides into your pocket. Your pocket? 

Jackie pulls away as she holds your keys up, waving them in front of your face before she turns and walks up the stairs. You wait at the bottom dumbfounded for a minute, rushing up the stairs and catching up just as she unlocks the doors. “Not fair.” You complain, holding the door open for her and locking it behind you. 

“No.” Jackie agrees, setting her purse down on the counter. “Fun though.” She adds as she walks off to get changed. 

You cry out happily as she finally walks back out of the bathroom, having already gotten changed and ready for bed. You hold your arms out for her to climb into, but she chooses to ignore them as she walks over and lays on the other side of the bed. You gasp in offense, rolling over to stare at her in disbelief. She feigns a sternness that she isn't actually able to enforce as she shakes her head. “Told you not to get that last drink.” She says, looking away from you in an effort to hide her smile. 

“Jackie Taylor,” You say slowly, having to really think about your words. “Are you… punishing me?”

She shrugs. “Is it working?” She murmurs. 

“On my birthday?”

“I had a surprise for you,” She complains. You snicker as you give her a knowing look. 

“Was it you?” You ask wryly. She scoffs, rolling over to face away from you with her arms crossed over her chest. You'd worry she was actually mad if you couldn't see the blush on the only visible part of her face. 

“Don't be like that, gorgeous,” You say, pulling gently against her shoulder. She lets you pull her on her back, still refusing to look at you. She huffs loudly, just in case you'd forgotten she was annoyed. “Give me my present in the morning, yeah? I'm sorry I got too drunk for it,” You say placatingly. 

Jackie uncrosses her arms, letting them fall limply to her sides. Still, she makes no move to get any closer. “Come to bed?” You whine, tugging gently against her arm. 

“I'm in bed, ” She teases, giving you a smug look. 

You smirk slightly as you playfully lean up to press a wet open-mouthed kiss against Jackie’s jaw, falling back against the bed giggling when she exclaims in disgust and jerks her face away. She gives you what she obviously considers to be a warning look but does next to nothing to deter you as you shift up to your elbows, intent on planting another one. She makes a whiny noise in protest as she gently pushes your face away from her. She pouts over at you and you grin softly as you roll on your side to face her. You reach a hand out and squish her cheeks together, making her lips bulge out exaggeratedly. She slaps your hands away with a groan, giving you an exasperated look. “No.” She whispers, trying to be firm but still giggling as she points a stern finger at you.

Jackie cries out in shock as you gently bite at her finger, trapping it between your teeth. She watches in disbelief as she tries and fails to get her finger out. “Please?” She asks finally, giving up on fighting you. You release her immediately, grinning far too wide as you climb on top of her and hug her tightly. She makes an irritated noise as your weight presses her into the bed, but reaches up to massage your scalp with her fingertips as you yawn into her neck. You shift on top of her as you find a comfortable position, more than happy to let her gentle motions soothe you to sleep.

…

5 Years Later.

You ignored the banging on the door to your hotel room at first, figuring some drunk couple had the wrong room, but the longer it went on unimpeded the more concerned you got. Finally, after the thought of Jackie being hurt crossed your mind, you shot up to go answer the door. Your eyes widen in surprise at the sight of Jackie, hand flying up to cover your eyes. “Jackie!” You cry out in shock, feeling an equal measure of shock and pleasure at her arrival. “Thought it was bad luck to see the bridge the night before the wedding.” You chide gently.

“You don’t believe in that,” Jackie accuses gently, a mixture of drunk and exuberant. You shrug, still holding your hand over your eyes.

“You do,” You say, entirely unsure why she’s here with you instead of at her bachelorette party. You’d had your party a few days before, choosing not to risk the hangover. Jackie, on the other hand, always loved to live on the edge. You smile fondly at the thought. Jackie makes a pleased noise, hands reaching up to tug your hand away from your face.

“Look at me,” Jackie pleads, smiling brightly at you. She pushes gently against your shoulders as she walks into the room, the door swinging swiftly shut behind her, walking you backward until the back of your knees hit the bed. You fall backward in surprise, taking a giggling Jackie with you as she falls on top. You grunt at the sudden weight, but that does nothing to stop Jackie from moving up to her knees to straddle you, grinning smugly down at you.

You can tell from the glassy look in her eyes that she had a few too many tonight, making you roll your eyes. She pouts at the reaction, hands coming down to cup the sides of your face. You shiver slightly at the coldness of her ring against your face, but you enjoy the reminder of her place in your life. Your fiance, and tomorrow your wife. You can’t help the way your smile lights up your face as you stare up at her, the love of your life who broke her own silly superstitions because she missed you.

You rest your hands against her hips, shifting her into a more comfortable position as you ask “What’re you doing here?”

“Don’t you want to see me?” Jackie whines, looking seriously put out. You laugh gently as you squeeze at her hip.

“You know that. Staying apart was your idea, gorgeous.”

“I’m drunk,” Jackie informs you.

“No. Say it isn’t so.” You say dramatically, feigning shock. Jackie nods seriously as if she truly believes it to be novel information.

“You always take care of me when I’m drunk,” Jackie confesses, a look of affection suddenly coming over her face. She leans down and presses a kiss against your hairline, lingering far longer than she needs to. “You’ll take care of me, won’t you?”

You choke up slightly as you say “Always Jackie. I promise.” Jackie frowns at the sight of your tears, quickly wiping them away. You clear your throat awkwardly, leaning up to kiss her as a form of distraction. Jackie grins happily when you pull away, but she’s still watching you a little closer than you’d like as you gently coax her to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Your wife always took care of you too, in her own little ways.

Snackie Taylor strap warming hcs when?👀👀(pls)

dunno if i'd consider it hc's but here you go ❤️. poor jackie is never gonna escape the snackie allegations

You and Jackie sitting at home on the couch as you relax after a long day, neither of you fully dressed. 

thinking about surprising her with the strap. Jackie sitting sideways across your lap to watch a movie and spinning forward to face the screen when it suddenly gets interesting. she'd gasp when she felt it, trying to turn in your lap to ask you about it but you just wrap your hand around her stomach and tug her back into it.

she blushes immediately, wondering how long you've been wearing it without her noticing. she shyly moves her hips against it but you tighten your hold on her stomach as you still her. 

rubbing up between her legs with only the thin layers of your underwear separating you as Jackie's hands grip on your arm, fingernails digging in sharply. her thighs pressing together in a desperate search for friction, squirming against you as she lazily rests her head back on your shoulder. 

taking advantage of the position to attach your lips to her neck, biting and sucking at the offered skin as Jackie whimpers in response. 

lifting Jackie off your lap so you can fully pull the strap out. Jackie stands up on shaky legs as she pulls her panties down her legs, not bothering to rid herself of her sweater in her impatience. 

she's so wet from your teasing by the time you slowly stretch her out, one hand clasped around yours as she sinks back down against your lap. she finally taps your hand after a moment to let you know you can start moving, but of course, you're not going to. 

you slide your arm down to her thighs as you hold her against you, resting your head against her as you pretend to watch the movie over her shoulder. 

Jackie Taylor will not suffer in silence. She's whining and pleading with you to please fuck her, even as she gets quieter and quieter the longer you remain still. 

rocking up whenever she gets particularly whiny to cut her off mid-sentence. 

holding jackie's thighs open as they keep trying to slip shut, forcing her to spread herself over your lap. your other hand up her sweater as you play mindlessly with her chest. 

slipping your fingers in her mouth to make her wet them for you, dragging them against her bottom lip as you pull them out. slowly circling her clit as you hold her down, making her cry out as she helplessly clenches around you. she's so full and you just keep teasing her. she wants it so bad she's nearly crying in frustration

keeping a frustratingly steady pace, just fast enough to remind her how thick the strap is but not enough to make her finish. her hips twitching against you as she can't decide whether she wants to move towards it or away from it. 

by the time you finally take mercy on her and start moving, she comes far too soon, arching against you as she cries out her release. she's far too exhausted to protest as you start rocking up into her again, head thrown back against your shoulder as she lets you touch her however you want as long just as you just keep doing it. 

OMG JACKIE W A BADDIE!FEM!READER??? THIS IS AN AMAZING COMBINATION. i just know my girl would be down bad for reader, like, reader picking fights with other people just for entertainment and jackie probably 'she looks so pretty fighting, isn't she?' saying with the most loving smile possible to someone else. also, I think she would love showing off with you, having you put your arm around her shoulder or your hand on her waist just to show everyone that you two are together, she would look at everyone with a proud smile. 😞 sigh.. I love her so much.

YES ANON YOU GET IT!!  i'm actually so in love with her too

jackie who leans against her locker, completely mesmerized by you further down the hallway.  she sighs softly at the sensation of butterflies flitting around in her stomach every time you so much as flick your hair over your shoulder or part your shiny lips.

sure, you're yelling in that poor girl's face, and sure, there's no valid reason behind it other than your love for chaos and conflict, but that's irrelevant to jackie.  you can do no wrong in her eyes, especially when you look that gorgeous.

"god, isn't she so pretty, shauna?" jackie asks with a dopey smile.  her head falls against the lockers as shauna's gaze flickers between you and jackie.

you're practically spitting in the other girl's face while gesturing wildly with your hands, your colorful acrylic nails a stark contrast to the muted colors of the hallway.  shauna can't make out exactly what you're shouting, but your seething voice easily rises above the other noises of the hall.

shauna looks back at jackie with her best "are you serious" look.

"jackie, she looks like she's gonna punch her," shauna says.

"yeah," jackie sighs breathlessly.  her smile grows larger and her eyes seem to be worshipping you and the ground you walk on.  she's undoubtedly love-struck.

you may be a little crazy, but jackie taylor is crazy for you!

and jackie who can't take her hands off of you in public.  every time you approach her, she'll instantly reach out for your hand or clutch onto your arm.  and don't let her fool you, she may be small, but her grip is deathly tight.

she needs everyone to know you're hers and she's yours, especially because your beauty and sometimes revealing outfits attracts many prying eyes.  you know whenever a guy is staring at you because jackie's hand tightens around yours or her nails dig into the skin of your waist.

but it's so easy to cure her bouts of jealousy by showing her a little public affection.  all you need to do is brush her hair out of her face and press a light kiss to her cheek and suddenly that stupid smile returns to her face.  she can feel the stain your lip gloss left on her cheek, but she makes no move to wipe it off, instead wearing it as a badge of honor.

she swoons even harder when you're the one to initiate the physical contact, whether by slinging an arm around her shoulders in the hallway or holding her waist at a party, keeping her body flush to your side.  she smiles smugly at everyone who even looks in your direction.

yup, she wants me!  not you losers!

she's so, so proud to have bagged you, the baddest girl in school (and she thinks on the planet).  she's even prouder to be yours.

now you’re all gone got your makeup on & you’re not coming back

So this kinda goes with my last request but when reader has top surgery. How would Jackie react when he goes shirtless all day when he's home? I feel like she'd stare and he'd do the "my eyes are up here" thing to tease her.

- 💀

oh, she goes crazy for it. feel like she never even considered the fact that you'd be shirtless so much more now after getting top surgery cause she was just so happy that you were finally able to get it, and once she sees you lounging on the couch, shirt off and your new chest on display, she just melts. you know she's hiding your shirts and playing dumb when you ask where they are cause it feels like half of them went missing.

jackie who buys you muscle tanks after ur surgery just so she can see your arms and glimpses of your chest. jackie who starts drooling when she can see your scars peeking ^^ jackie sneaking her hands underneath said tank while in public, messing with your chest and whatever hair you have there.

feel like she'd have such a huge thing for your scars as well. jackie kissing your top surgery scars the second they're healed, mumbling in her raspy voice how hot she thinks they are. leaving hickeys right under them and spending so much time kissing them that they end up covered in her drool at the end.

she just thinks you look so good!! she cant help but stare :( she's a mess when you tease her for looking too long or when you catch her staring at your chest as she's talking to you. "are you talking to me, or my nipples?" and her face goes all red but she doesn't deny staring...

she'd love to rest her head on your chest too oh my goodness ☹️ it's like her number 1 favorite thing after you got surgery. maybe before you were too dysphoric to let her do it and now she does it constantly. she tells--more like demands tbh--you to lie down so she can rest her head on your chest. it's a must during couch time.

Hm.

Bruce is a father at heart, underneath all the layers of pain and lies is a soft man. He can't show it, it's weakness. He wants to be strong for all his babies that have been through so much.

He believes everyone deserves a break, except for him. He believes that hiding your emotions in unhealthy and stupid, but not when he does it. And since it's been so long, so long, since his last crack in the facade he thinks he's okay. Convincing people for so long, he managed to convince himself. Bruce thinks he really is okay, even with the constant paranoia and jolts of pain in his body. Ther was no denying he was aging, his body was no longer as fast as it was used to, but that's fine!

It's fine.

He is fine.

And he's a fine Dad! Sure he's not the best when it comes to communicating...and he may not be the most understanding Dad, but no knes perfect. Parenting comes with challenges, especially when it comes to his kids. But he loves them all!

He thinks he's doing well, and he has. Dick has become a good young man, a cop. Jason's is...more himself, he's reaching out more. Cass has picked up hobbies, made friends, plus her ballet is amazing! Duke makes the Manor more lively, especially with his parents getting better. And Damian...wants to be a doctor.

His kids are moving on with their lives, his youngest deciding to move away from crime fighting as a whole. Sure, Bruce will miss him when patrols get cold but he couldn't be more proud. Of all of them

But deep into night's, especially where its the quiet ones when every light is off and eyes shut, his head starts to hurt. He feels his shoulders drop and his chest tighten. The guilt crashes on to him like some inevitable curse.

If he is a good dad, then why wasn't he one before?

He opens up a box with shaky hands and prays no one is watching him. His fingers linger over the pictures scattered inside, he was a good dad.

But not to you, not to his first.

The child's eyes became dimer and dimer as they aged in the photos, and it was all his fault. At some point, they're just a blur in the background. There was something so...pitiful with the way he just stared at the polaroids. Trying, and failing, to remember your voice.

He didn't have a breaking point, not until you left.

That's why when he hears a name too close to yours his shoulders tense, more than they already are, and his throught goes dry. When someone runs by, their hair the same shade as yours, no one can make him smile for the rest of the day. Not Selina, not Alfred, no one.

And when he looks into a mirror after a bad fight, all he can see is his baby. Sometimes, looking at Damians resting face, he'll get choked up.

How would he react? How would the rest of them react

When the pictures, drawings, cards, when they all reach an end and his face is sticky with tears, he'll curse himself until he sleeps. He'll have nightmares of your angered words, the night you left, the night where the letters stopped.

It was too late.

Shattered Bonds

English is not my native language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

The Wayne Manor loomed like a cathedral of shadows, its gothic spires clawing at the Gotham sky. Inside, chandeliers cast fractured light across mahogany panels, but the warmth of their glow never reached you. You were a ghost in your own home, a forgotten daughter of the Bat, tethered to a family that saw you only in glimpses. As Damian Wayne’s twin, you’d once shared his world—two children forged in the crucible of the League of Assassins, bound by blood and secrets. But where Damian’s fire burned bright, commanding attention, you were the ember, quiet and overlooked, your warmth reserved for those who cared to notice.

No one did. Not anymore.

The neglect had been a slow poison, seeping through the years. Bruce, your father, was a monolith, his eyes forever fixed on Gotham’s underbelly, his rare words to you clipped and utilitarian. Dick’s smiles were fleeting, Jason’s rough affection sporadic, Tim’s focus consumed by screens and cases. Even Alfred, with his gentle offerings of tea and concern, couldn’t bridge the chasm between you and the others. Damian, your mirror, your twin, had grown cold, his loyalty now a blade turned outward, never inward. You’d learned to live with it, to swallow the ache of being unseen. But then came Lila, and the ache became a wound.

Lila arrived a year ago, a waif with haunted eyes and a trembling lip, plucked from Gotham’s streets by Bruce’s boundless need to save. You saw yourself in her at first—a girl adrift, hungry for belonging. You spent nights by her side, listening to her whispered fears, bandaging her scraped knees, teaching her to navigate the manor’s labyrinthine halls. You thought you were building something—a sister, a friend. But Lila was no lost soul. She was a predator, and you were her prey.

Her lies began as whispers, soft and insidious. “Y/N pushed me down the stairs,” she’d sob to Damian, her voice quivering with rehearsed fragility. The accusation landed like a stone, and your twin’s emerald eyes—once your anchor—flashed with doubt. “Y/N mocked me during training,” she’d confide to Dick, who’d ruffle her hair and shoot you a disappointed glance. She told Tim you’d sabotaged her schoolwork, Jason that you’d sneered at her weakness, Bruce that you were consumed by jealousy. Each lie was a brushstroke, painting you as the villain in a story you hadn’t written.

The manor turned against you. Family dinners became tribunals, your every word dissected, your silences condemned. “You need to be better, Y/N,” Bruce would say, his voice heavy with the weight of a city he couldn’t save. “We’re a team.” But you weren’t a team. You were the scapegoat, the shadow cast by Lila’s light.

Behind closed doors, her mask fell. In the dim corridors, where the manor’s grandeur faded to gloom, Lila’s cruelty was a blade. She’d shove you against the wall, her nails biting into your arms. “You’re nothing here,” she’d hiss, her breath hot against your ear. “They all love me more.” She’d pinch your skin until it bloomed purple, leaving bruises you hid beneath oversized sweaters. Once, she poured ink into your schoolbag, ruining your textbooks, then wept to the family that you’d done it to frame her. The lie stuck, and your protests were met with sighs and eye-rolls.

School, once a refuge, became a battlefield. Lila’s whispers spread like wildfire through Gotham Academy’s polished halls. “Y/N’s a liar,” she’d murmur to your classmates. “A whore who thinks she’s a Wayne but’s just a mistake.” The words were venom, and they worked. Notes appeared in your locker—crude insults, threats. Girls shoved you in the halls, their laughter a chorus of malice. Boys whispered behind your back, their gazes sharp with disdain. You were ostracized, a pariah in a world you’d once navigated with quiet pride.

You fought to be heard. You went to Damian first, your twin, the boy who’d once shared your heartbeat in the womb. In his room, surrounded by his sketches and swords, you bared your soul. “She’s lying, Dami,” you pleaded, rolling up your sleeve to show the bruises Lila’s fingers had left. “She’s hurting me.” His gaze lingered on the marks, but his jaw tightened, and he turned away. “Lila wouldn’t do that,” he said, voice low and final. “You’re just upset she’s fitting in better than you.” The words were a knife, twisting deep. Your twin, your other half, had chosen her.

You tried Bruce next, standing in his study as rain lashed the windows. The Batcomputer hummed behind him, its glow casting his face in cold blue. You poured out everything—Lila’s lies, her cruelty, the bruises, the bullying at school. “I’m not making this up,” you said, voice trembling but steady. “She’s turning everyone against me.” Bruce listened, but his eyes drifted to the screens, to Gotham’s endless demands. “You need to work this out with her,” he said, as if your pain were a minor dispute. “I don’t have time for petty squabbles.” *Petty.* The word was a sledgehammer, shattering what little hope you’d clung to.

The others were no better. Dick tried to mediate, sitting you and Lila down like children fighting over toys. But her tears flowed on cue, and his sympathy tilted her way. “Y/N, you’ve got to meet her halfway,” he said, oblivious to the bruises beneath your sleeves. Jason laughed it off, slinging an arm around you that felt more like pity than support. “You’re tougher than this, kid. Don’t let her get to you.” Tim, ever the detective, analyzed your claims but found no “concrete evidence” to back them. “Lila’s stories check out,” he said, as if your pain were a case to be solved. Alfred alone saw the truth, his eyes soft as he pressed a warm mug into your hands. “You are enough, Miss Y/N,” he murmured. But his kindness couldn’t undo the family’s verdict.

Lila’s final act came at a family dinner, the table laden with crystal and silver, the air thick with unspoken tensions. She “accidentally” knocked a glass of red wine onto your dress, the stain spreading like blood. Before you could speak, she burst into tears, claiming you’d threatened her for being clumsy. The room stilled, eyes pinning you in place. Damian’s gaze was ice, Bruce’s disappointment a tangible weight. Dick frowned, Jason smirked, Tim looked away. “I didn’t do anything,” you whispered, but your voice was a ghost, drowned by Lila’s sobs. You stood, chair scraping the floor, and fled to your room.

That night, you made your choice. The manor was no longer home—it was a cage, and you were done begging for freedom. In the silence of your room, you packed a duffel bag—clothes, a photo of you and Damian as children, a knife Talia had given you years ago. You wrote a letter, your pen shaking but your resolve ironclad:

*Father,*

Fuck off, I don't care.

*With love, the girl you don't care about*

You left the letter on Bruce’s desk, slipped out through a servants’ entrance, and vanished into Gotham’s rain-soaked night.

The journey to Talia’s compound was a blur of buses, planes, and forged documents. When you arrived, the desert sun burned away the last of Gotham’s chill. Talia waited at the gates, her presence commanding, her eyes sharp but soft as they took you in. “My child,” she said, her voice a balm. She drew you into her arms, and for the first time in years, you didn’t feel invisible. “You’ve carried too much.” She didn’t ask for explanations, didn’t need them. Talia saw the weight in your shoulders, the shadows beneath your eyes, and she understood.

In Gotham, your absence went unnoticed at first. The Batfamily was consumed—patrols, cases, Lila’s endless dramas. But when Alfred found your letter, the manor erupted. Bruce read it in his study, the words blurring as his hands trembled. He’d failed you, his daughter, and the realization was a fist to his chest. Damian, summoned by Alfred’s urgent call, stared at the letter, your handwriting searing into his mind. He remembered your bruises, your pleas, and a crack formed in his certainty. Dick cursed himself, replaying every moment he’d dismissed you. Jason punched a wall, rage masking his guilt. Tim scoured security footage, desperate for a trace of you, but Talia’s network was a fortress, every lead a dead end.

Lila sensed the shift, her grip on the family faltering. She doubled down, weaving new tales, but without you as the scapegoat, her lies frayed. Damian, haunted by your absence, began to question. He revisited your room, finding a hidden journal you’d kept—pages of Lila’s cruelty, your pain, your pleas for help. His heart twisted, guilt replacing his doubt. Tim, ever methodical, dug into Lila’s past, unearthing inconsistencies—a foster home that didn’t exist, a story that didn’t add up. The truth emerged, slow but relentless, and Lila’s house of cards collapsed.

But it was too late. You were gone, and the Batfamily’s regret couldn’t bring you back. With Talia, you trained under the desert sun, your body growing stronger, your mind sharper. You learned to wield your mother’s blades, to command her operatives, to reclaim the fire you’d buried under years of neglect. You weren’t the scared girl who’d fled the manor. You were Talia al Ghul’s daughter, forged in pain and tempered by choice.

One night, as you stood on a balcony overlooking the endless dunes, Talia joined you. “You are whole again,” she said, her voice proud. You nodded, the weight of Gotham lifting. The Batfamily would always be a part of you—Bruce’s strength, Damian’s fire, the others’ fleeting warmth—but they no longer defined you. You’d chosen yourself, your mother, your truth. And in the desert’s vast silence, you were free.

And now, in the silence of the night, with your eyes fixed on the endless desert, the ghosts of your past begin to fade, one by one. Somewhere in the mansion you once called home, the echoes of your cries still linger—but they no longer define you. You spent a lifetime waiting to be heard… but now, in the quiet, you’ve finally found your voice. You are no longer someone’s shadow. Not a twin’s echo. Not a forgotten daughter. Not a casualty of someone else’s lies. Now, there is only you. And this time, the pain didn’t break you—it forged you anew. When you look back, there will still be memories laced with love, no matter how broken. Maybe, one day… someone will truly see you. But until then, as the desert winds whisper your name, you’ll no longer seek validation in the darkness. Because in the end, the moment you stopped fighting for them, you finally won for yourself.

How did it happen?

I don't know if you write for Jackie but she's so pookie so Imma send it

Imagine like, loser!Jackie having the biggest crush on the reader and just being a mess trying to be confident around them to impress them, but just failing at that (reader is obviously endeared with this type of behaviour from Jackie)

loser behavior - Jackie Taylor

—

“She’s staring at you again”, your friend spoke to you as your eyes trailed to her.. Jackie Taylor The yellowjackets captian.. she has been staring at you for the whole hour she was to distracted by you. .. you knew what she was doing, ''you should try and talk to her'', shaking your head before you tried to speak the bell rang for the next class.your math class wasnt so bad but jackie was sitting next to you. ''hey did you know im the captain of the yellowjackets'' she tried to impress you her eyes looking into your, laughing at her and smiled at her, ''i know Jackie'' smiling at the captain, she was the biggest loser and you loved it.

Jackie Taylor was once again looking at you she watched everything you did write,laugh,walk… man you were a real life Disney character — she was in a trance.. your eyes trailed to Jackie who was staring at you again, “hm?” Humming at her Jackie blushed at you and played with her hands nervously, it wasn’t the first time she was near you - quiet for a moment she opened her mouth trying to find the right words to say to you. ''your boobs are nice'' fuck did she just say that to you.. ''huh?'' tilting your head at jackie.. she was a nervous wreck right now ''i mean do you wanna go hang out after school its kinda like a datebutiwouldntmindijustwantedtoaskyou'' nodding at her laughing ''sure i would love to jackie see ya after school'' you had left class leaving jackie alone in her thoughts who was cheering in victory like the gay loser she is

Screw "name a ship that everyone loves but you hate" name a canon ship that everyone hates but you secretly loves

Oh boy... VaniJeanne... Okay yes I get why people are upset with it being canon but to me it ain't that bad

can i be 🦦 anon? also i have a request. transmasc jock!jack(ie) or transmasc jock! shaun(a) x cheerleader!fem where r teases them as she does cheer practice since their practice is at the same time

tmasc!jock!jack w/ fem!cheerleader reader thoughts

a/n: of course, welcome 🦦 anon! i wasn’t sure if you wanted both or either or but i figured on writing more thoughts on tmasc!jack(ie) since there isn’t much of him :) (sfw / a bit suggestive)

jack who’s on the football team at wiskayok. he’s honestly scared to join because he was barely transitioning - but shaun follows, along with van and nat as they join in support and are the top players on the team and he finds comfort in that. 

now, this guy cannot keep it hidden when he has a crush. maybe he’s been doting on you since sophomore year ever since you joined the cheer squad (maybe did or did not join fb because of you). the kind that day dreams whenever you’re not looking but snaps back into reality to not be seen as a creep. 

you catch him though, and it just furthers your interest. 

him thinking that you don’t actually know that he likes you but you do!

maybe the two of you aren’t close, yet, but that doesn’t stop you from making attempts to talk to him - with it just being casual talk. you’re smiling, probably asking about football and what he thought about that math quiz you both took but he’s just standing there making goo-goo eyes with you. 

admiring how your hair is tied up with a bow for cheer or how your eyes are so pretty or just the way the corners of your lips curve upwards. it’d be the littlest thing that gets him stuttering at first before he has to remind himself to stop acting like an idiot in front of you. 

when jack is on the field, he’s putting his all into every game, practice, or scrimmage - doesn’t matter which or how small it may seem. he’s a determined player who likes giving moral support to have everyone be on their a-game. BUT, ever since the gym got flooded with a bursted pipe - your squad had to start practicing outside on the field. and was he a mess. 

all of that focus was gone the moment the cheerleaders began warming up on the sidelines, and you made sure to position yourself directly in jack’s line of sight. stretching just a bit provocatively but with the full intention of grabbing jack’s attention - bending down to touch your toes which causes your uniform skirt to rise up and show your spandex shorts underneath. which you accomplished as he would trample over his feet or his catches for the ball would falter. 

“what the fuck jack?” nat would call out whenever jack would miss the ball for like the fifth time, almost hitting his face. 

walking up to him during breaks and you’re standing in front of him smirking whilst twirling a strand of your hair around your finger. “liked the show, taylor?” voice dripping with teasing sweetness. 

jack fumbled with his water bottle, “what, no- wait, i mean-” he stammered as he cleared his throat but you just giggled. “awh c’mon. our practice wasn’t that bad.” knowing full well you weren’t talking about the whole performance, but rather yourself.

oh but before games. you always make sure to catch up to him first before he gets on the field. wishing him luck and even winking at him that gets him blushing for the rest of the game. but when you wear his number for spirit days? he is over the moon.