tv girl

ugh i love them

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤLOVE ME GENTLYㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Batboys x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : Cute Things That They Do When They're In Love.

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Male Cassandra Cain, Male Stephanie Brown.

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

— BRUCE WAYNE ⋆

He gets up earlier just to make you coffee —and not just any coffee, the perfect one: oat milk, a swirl of honey, exactly 173 degrees. He’ll place it on your nightstand with a silent kiss to your forehead before disappearing into Bat-mode. You pretend you don’t notice—but you totally do.

Leaves post-it notes when he goes on patrol. They’re hilariously robotic: “Breakfast in fridge. Don’t forget vitamins. Love you. — B.” But he draws a little bat in the corner every time, and you keep every one of them.

He reads bedtime stories to you when you can’t sleep —but it’s always classic literature. Pride and Prejudice. The Great Gatsby. He’ll be half-asleep himself, voice rough and low. One night he mumbles, “Mr. Darcy is weak. I would’ve burned down London for you.” You never let him forget it.

Sleeps with his head on your chest. The man carries Gotham on his back but curls up like a cat when he finally sleeps. His favorite thing? Your heartbeat. He won’t say it out loud, but that’s how he knows he’s home.

He keeps a framed candid photo of you on his Batcomputer. It’s you, mid-laugh, covered in flour, from when you tried to bake together. Tim caught it. Bruce keeps it where no villain will ever find it—but he looks at it before every mission. Every single one.

— DICK GRAYSON ⋆

He gives you piggyback rides literally everywhere. Down the street? Piggyback. Grocery store? You’re climbing on. You joke that his back must be destroyed—he grins and says, “Baby, I do flips off rooftops. You weigh like, three clouds.”

Kisses your cheeks 37 times a day. Minimum. Your temple. Your jaw. Your nose. Bonus kisses if you’re mad at him. He’ll follow you around the apartment like a puppy, peppering kisses like, “Still mad? What about now? Now?? NOW???”

He talks in his sleep and it’s always about you. Once he said, “No, she can’t marry Chris Evans, I’m hotter,” and you laughed so hard you woke him up. He whined, “Wait—what did I say?” You just kissed his dumb forehead.

He braids your hair. Like, really well. Like it’s a thing. “Comes with the package,” he claims. He’ll sit behind you on the couch, legs on either side, humming some 80s song while twisting your hair like he’s done it forever.

He fake cries to get cuddles. Full pout, big eyes, “Baaaby… you don’t love me anymore…” until you sigh and pull him into your lap. He melts. Absolute cuddle slut.

— JASON TODD ⋆

He lets you paint his nails. He acts all annoyed, muttering about toxic masculinity, but then he flex and be like, “Damn, I look good.” Also lets you do matching colors.

He makes you playlists with names like ‘If You Ever Leave Me I’ll Die (jk... unless?)’. It’s full of angsty rock and a few disgustingly romantic acoustic songs you know he’d never admit to liking. You tease him. He shrugs. “I’m a man of culture.”

Carries your lip balm in his jacket. He grumbles about it every time: “You have, like, five of these.” But he pulls it out before you even ask, like some sort puppy.

Always comes home with something for you. A book you mentioned once. A weird snack from a gas station. A kitten once. “He was gonna get hit by a car, what was I supposed to do?!”

He gets super possessive when you're sick. No one else is allowed to help. He makes soup (burnt), tucks you in (aggressively), and yells at your fever. “She’s not answering your texts because she’s DYING. BACK OFF.”

— DAMIAN WAYNE ⋆

He draws you in his sketchbook all the time. But never shows you. He’ll be all tsundere about it—“It’s not for display,”—yet the moment you catch a glimpse and say, “Is that me?”, he’s like, “Tt. Obviously.” (It’s always you.)

He feeds the stray animals because you like them. Now Gotham has a growing population of cats, crows, and one raccoon named after you that follows Damian home. “She understands command. Clearly superior.”

He makes you lunch bento boxes. They’re perfectly arranged. Like, Michelin star level. Sometimes they have little food animals. You once teased him about it and he straight-faced replied, “Aesthetics are important.” But his ears were so red.

He picks flowers for you during patrol. Like—he’ll come home at 4AM covered in blood with a perfectly intact wildflower in his hand. “It reminded me of you,” he mutters. “Resilient. Pretty. Sharp if touched incorrectly.”

When he’s injured, he goes to you. Even when Alfred or medical professionals are RIGHT THERE. You could have no medical knowledge and he’ll still stumble in, covered in blood, saying, “I’m fine. Just… hold me for a moment.”

— CASSIAN CAIN ⋆

He only speaks to you. One or two words max. But when he does? It's so soft. You’ll be talking and suddenly hear a tiny: “Pretty.” Or “Sad?” Or “Stay.” He’ll tug your sleeve and rest his head on your shoulder and that’s it. You’ve melted.

He copies everything you do. You tilt your head? He does too. You braid your hair? He stares until you let him try. He mimics you like a curious baby bird, trying to understand the world through your eyes. He loves your laugh and repeats the sound softly under his breath when he’s alone.

He believes everything you say. You once told him ducks are just water chickens and now he will fight Bruce over that fact. “Chicken,” he says seriously, pointing at a duck on patrol. “No, Cass—” Too late. He’s already gone.

When you cry, he cries. He doesn’t understand why it happens—he just feels it. Even if it’s a sad commercial. Suddenly he's sitting next to you, eyes full of tears, holding your hand. “Why?” he asks softly. And it makes you cry harder.

You’re his safe place. You talk, he listens. You sit, he follows. You nap, he curls up at your feet like a puppy. Sometimes he tugs your hoodie sleeve and signs, Home? And he doesn’t mean a building.

— STEPHEN BROWN ⋆

He falls in love with you hard. Like day one. He makes it everyone’s problem. “I think I met my wife,” he says to Barry (M!Barbara). He's like, “You’ve known her for five minutes dude.” Stephen shrugs. “Yeah. I’d die for her.”

He wants to match with you in EVERYTHING. Pajamas. Costumes. Hoodies. He even altered his vigilante suit to match your favorite color. Tim saw and just walked away like he couldn’t handle the secondhand embarrassment.

He builds you blanket forts. Complete with snacks, fairy lights, and a “no sadness allowed” sign. He calls it “The Anti-Depression Fortress.” You both stay up giggling like kids.

He cries when you do nice things. You brought him lunch once and he got misty-eyed. “No one ever packs me food,” he said, voice cracking. You put a sticky note on his sandwich and he framed it. It said, “Eat your damn veggies.”

He accidentally proposes once a week. You’ll say “this soup is amazing,” and he’ll go, “Marry me.” You’ll trip and land in his arms? “That’s a sign. Marriage time.” He’s serious every time. You’ve started keeping a tally.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

aaaaaaa so so so cute !!

Tag game!!

I hope you think of me when..

I hope you think of me when you see anything periwinkle or broadway related

@xoxzso @soft-likethesunset @sweetreveriee @auntiejohn @meangirlsbway @urmumsfan @xoxochb

@im-on-crack-send-help

i hope u think of me when . .

i hope u think of me every time u see anything astv / frat boy timothée chalamet related

Keep reading

ty for the tag vetaaa💗

i hope you think of me when...

i hope you think of me when you see coffee, blueberries, and flowers

npt: @book-nerd-emi @shattered-glass-roses @balladofareader @wish-i-were-heather @lovethornes @swaying-seashoress @minorlyatfault @hopeless-umii @pjxcksonswrd @dxstoeskyvjbess @dntaed @cowboylikemily @maybxlle @sweetreveriee

ty for the tag, jo!!

i hope you think of me when...

i hope you think of me when you see cherries, matcha, coffee & bows.

tags 𐃘 @bloodwrittenletters , @grayslovely , @gibsluv , @dntaed , @rascaltheidiot , @premiumbitch , @cinnamongrl2006 , @chxrrybxmbi , @cowboylikemily , @dulcet-aurora !

kayvi thank u sm for the tag ☹️

i hope you think of me when…

i hope you think of me when you see jane austen, pastel pink, tim drake, ribbons, vivienne westwood, wuthering heights, and jazz piano.

╭━━━╯ tags. @ephemerensis, @di-lucss, @dollishmehrayan, @aangelinakii, @aelinslegend, @myespresso. 我 ⸼ ࣪ ✿

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤBUTTERFLY KISSㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Batboys x Fem Reader

☆⁠ SYNOPSIS : When You Give Them A Soft Peck On The Lips.

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Male Cassandra Cain, Male Stephanie Brown.

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

— BRUCE WAYNE ⋆

You were never one for dramatics, unlike the man currently sitting beside you. Bruce always had this ridiculous ability to make even the smallest things seem intense. Like now, as he sat on the couch in his study, one arm lazily thrown over the back, expensive whiskey in hand, looking at you like he knew every secret in the world.

You rolled your eyes. Show-off.

"You're staring," he noted, smirking.

"You look stupid," you deadpanned, crossing your arms.

Bruce chuckled, the sound deep and amused. "Mmm, that so?"

Instead of answering, you simply leaned in and pressed a quick, soft peck to his lips. Just a simple touch—barely even a second long—but when you pulled away, his smirk was gone. He blinked, looking at you like you had just flipped his entire world upside down.

Then, a slow, dangerous grin stretched across his face.

"Oh? What was that?" His voice dropped an octave, teasing yet undeniably pleased.

You shrugged, feigning innocence. "Felt like it."

Bruce hummed, setting his drink down. "You know, sweetheart, when you start something, you should always be ready to finish it."

You gasped as he suddenly pulled you onto his lap, trapping you with strong arms, his lips dangerously close to yours. "How about you try that again?"

You huffed, smacking his chest. "Cocky."

He only chuckled, leaning in. "Only for you, darling."

— DICK GRAYSON ⋆

The second your lips touched his, it was over for you.

Dick was already the human equivalent of an overly excited golden retriever, but the moment you surprised him with a soft peck on the lips? Yeah, you weren’t getting away.

"Wait—wait, no! Come back! Do that again!"

You laughed, taking a step back, but he immediately followed, his hands gently cradling your face, lips chasing yours desperately. His eyes were wide, filled with the kind of love that could melt glaciers.

"Dick, it was just a peck!" you giggled, pressing your palms against his chest to keep some distance.

He pouted—full-on, actual pouted. "But it was so nice! And soft! And perfect! Babe, please, I need more—just one more! Just—just—"

You dodged as he tried to kiss you again, laughing as he groaned dramatically. "You're so mean!" he whined, chasing after you as you playfully ducked away.

"You're so needy!"

"I'm your man, and I deserve love! Come back here!"

Eventually, he caught you—because let’s be honest, he’s a former acrobat and you were never going to escape. He tackled you onto the couch, pinning you down with his arms as he peppered your face with soft, dramatic kisses.

"You did this to yourself!" he declared, pressing another lingering kiss to your lips.

You sighed, shaking your head. "Regret. Instant regret."

"Liar," he grinned against your lips.

Yeah, okay. Maybe a little.

— JASON TODD ⋆

You should’ve expected this reaction. Really, you should have.

The second you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Jason’s lips, he short-circuited.

His entire body tensed like you had just struck him with a bolt of lightning. His breath hitched, hands tightening into fists at his sides. And when you pulled away—just slightly—his eyes were wide, pupils blown out, and—oh god, was he shaking?

"Jay?" you asked, tilting your head.

His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. He looked utterly offended by what just happened.

"Wh—Y—you—WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

You flinched at the sudden rise in his voice, barely holding back a giggle. "A kiss?"

"A—A KISS?!" His face was so red it was concerning. "YOU CAN'T JUST—JUST—DO THAT!"

You raised a brow. "Why not?"

Jason made a strangled noise, running both hands through his hair. "Because—because—that’s—" He groaned loudly, looking anywhere but at you, his ears burning red. "You can’t just go around kissing people like that!"

"I didn’t kiss ‘people.’ I kissed you."

Jason froze. His breath stuttered. Oh, you got him.

His mouth opened and closed again, as if he was trying to find an argument but failing miserably. Then, suddenly, he threw his hands up and groaned like a dying man.

"I hate you," he grumbled, shoving his face into his hands.

You smirked, poking his cheek. "No, you don't."

Jason peeked through his fingers, glaring. "...shut up."

But when you leaned in and kissed his cheek this time?

Yeah, his entire brain stopped working.

— DAMIAN WAYNE ⋆

You leaned in and pressed a soft peck to Damian’s lips, pulling away with a small smile.

He didn’t even blink. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t react at all.

Just stared.

Like you’d just done something as mundane as handing him a pen.

You frowned. "You didn’t even close your eyes."

Damian tilted his head slightly. "Was I supposed to?"

You blinked. "I mean... yeah? That’s how it usually works."

He was completely unaffected. "If you want me to do so next time, tell me beforehand." Then, before you could even process his words, his hand grabbed your chin, tilting your face up as he leaned in.

And kissed you again.

This time, it wasn’t just a peck. His lips were soft, warm, and lingering. Not desperate, not needy, just slow and calculated—intentional. Like he was memorizing the feel of your lips against his own.

When he finally pulled away, your brain had completely stopped working. But of course, he wasn’t done.

Damian smirked. "Would you like to tell me how to hold you next time as well? Perhaps where you like to be touched?"

You choked. "Damian—"

"Or," he continued, eyes glinting mischievously, voice dropping just enough to make your stomach flip, "should I just figure it out myself?"

You shoved him, face burning, and he chuckled, looking far too smug.

— CASSIAN CAIN ⋆

Cass was quiet. Always quiet. You were used to it by now, the way he communicated in nods, soft looks, and the smallest of gestures.

Right now, he was standing beside you in the kitchen, nibbling on a cookie Alfred had made. His cheeks were puffed slightly, and his dark eyes were locked on yours, curious and observant as always.

You smiled. And, without warning, leaned in to press a soft peck to his lips.

Cass froze.

Like, completely.

His eyes widened—huge, round, confused puppy eyes—and his entire body locked up like a deer caught in headlights. You pulled back just a few inches, waiting for his reaction.

He just… kept staring.

Seconds passed. Then his face exploded in red.

He quickly looked away, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth as his shoulders curled inward. His fingers lightly touched his lips, as if checking if what just happened was real.

"Cass?" you giggled.

No response. Just more blushing.

And then—oh. Oh my god.

Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and tugged on your sleeve like a little kid. Soft. Gentle. Seeking.

You tilted your head. "Hmm?"

He hesitated. Then, he tapped his lips with his index finger.

Your heart melted.

"You want... another one?" you whispered.

He nodded. Fast.

You cupped his cheek, pressing another kiss to his lips. This time, when you pulled away, he didn’t run or hide. He just clutched the fabric of your sleeve tighter, burying his burning face against your shoulder.

You stroked his hair, smiling. "You're adorable."

His muffled whimper told you he absolutely agreed.

— STEPHEN BROWN ⋆

The second your lips brushed against Stephen’s, you knew you messed up.

Because instead of a normal reaction, he immediately threw himself onto the ground.

"OH, CRUEL FATES! WHY DO YOU TOY WITH MY HEART SO?" he bellowed, clutching his chest like he’d just been mortally wounded.

You just blinked. "Stephen—"

"TO HAVE BEEN GRACED WITH SUCH A KISS, ONLY TO HAVE IT TAKEN AWAY SO SOON—OH, THE AGONY!"

You groaned, rubbing your temples.

He gasped dramatically, rolling onto his back. "MY LOVE, DO YOU NOT SEE? I AM BUT A HUMBLE MAN, A MERE PEASANT, UNWORTHY OF YOUR DIVINE TOUCH!"

"...Stephen—"

He pointed at the ceiling. "IF I WERE TO DIE THIS VERY NIGHT, I WOULD DIE A HAPPY MAN, KNOWING THAT I HAD ONCE TASTED HEAVEN—"

"STEPHEN."

He paused, blinking up at you innocently. "Yes, my dearest?"

You crossed your arms. "Are you done?"

He sat up immediately, grinning. "Nope! Can I have another one?"

You stared at him for a moment. Then promptly turned around and walked away.

"HEY, WAIT! DON'T GO! MY HEART CAN'T HANDLE SUCH REJECTION—COME BACK, BABE, I WAS ONLY PLAYING—"

You rolled your eyes as he literally ran after you, already preparing another ridiculous speech.

You were so done.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

this is the cutest thing i’ve ever read.