A book full of imagines / oneshots about the batbrats and their father. Oh of course you as their girlfriends or their badass mother!
Hope you enjoyed. [This book was called Batmom & Random Headcanons but I changed it along with the cover!]
[And...
Note; a part 2 (and the last part) of 'even Joker says so'
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"Come on, Batsy! Just enjoy the show!" Joker cackled, both of his hands were on his hips as he watched the fireworks exploded in an unused building, away from the main part of the town where nobody ever laid their feet on unless for testing things.
Mostly things that could explode or harm other people.
Joker, of course, insisted that he wanted to do it at the crowded part of the town so he could see the civilians screaming in terror, thinking that he was trying to kill them all with the Batman. But after a few punches to his face, he gave up and obliged Batman's wishes, though, on their way, Joker couldn't stop whining and begging for him to change his mind.
The answer obviously a stern NOfrom the bigger man. As if Batman going to let him destroy the town he loved the most.
They had been meeting each other for two nights, since the big fight with his wife. Batman was desperate, Batman was never desperate, there was no way he would tell his children. Especially the girls.
Oh, heck no.
Those three would make him sit on the couch like he was a bad little kid for hours, listening to their rant and scolding for hurting their mother figure, telling him he should nevertreat a woman who always put up with his bullshit for years like that.
It wasn't wrong, he admitted that. Thing was, his wife already made him sleep on the couch one day since their fight. When he came back home from his patrol that night, he found a pillow on the couch in their sitting room.
Curious, he decided to ask his wife as soon as he finished cleaning himself up. That was when he noticed hispillow was gone.
"(Y/n)?"
His wife only replied with an irritated grunt thus gave him the conclusion that she was still pissed. It usually takes her days to finally forgive him.
Heaving a sigh, he approached their bed, "where's my pillow?"
"On the couch." Her voice was groggy, she didn't even bother to turn around to meet his tired gaze.
"Why?"
"You're sleeping on the couch, Mr. Wayne," ouch, talk about holding a grudge, "I'm making you regret marrying me."
"You're being immature." The dark haired man stated bluntly, he was also tired so he wasn't really aware he had said those words until his wife turned her head around to glare at him. Her eyes were bloodshot red, tears streak on her cheek.
