*Warning: Do not drink unless you don’t mind accumulating major medical issues and probably brain damage. When drinking this coffee, use caution, and pray it does not burn through your esophagus and devour you from the inside out. Do not drink if you are younger than 15 years old, have any health problems (besides no spleen. I don’t have one and I drink this anyway so it should be fine, but if you’re a normal person with no spleen then I wouldn’t recommend this, just in case), take medication, are pregnant, have a low caffeine tolerance, are not a hardened vigilante, know Alfred and might tell him about this semi-fatal cup of coffee I drink regularly, or wish to live a long life*
*Side effects include: Either a good caffeine boost for the day or a coma. There is no in between.
• Extremely strong Death Wish coffee grounds
• A few flakes of salt (to ensure you’re bitter enough to face the world)
• Three drops of hot sauce (to strengthen your pain tolerance)
• A few caffeine tablets (for maximum caffeination)
• Make a pot of coffee with the grounds and Redbull instead of water
• Pour into a large mug (for best results, invest in a giant mug that fits multiple cups of coffee to enhance the experience)
• Take everything else and mix it all in until the coffee looks just a little poisonous (I assure you it’s not as deadly as it looks. I drink this twice a day and I turned out alright)
• **Do not add milk (this coffee must be black as your soul)**
- is so good at doing impressions that when he did one to Morgan Freeman, it was so accurate Freeman told him, “You ever do that again, I’ll kill you”
- won $356,000 by winning the California State Poker Championships in June 2004 - defeating some of the best poker players in the world in the process
- filmed four movies simultaneously in 2001: Pearl Harbor, Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, Changing Lanes, and The Sum of All Fears
- began an intense two-hour a day workout regime the day after he was cast as Batman
- received a lifetime ban from playing blackjack at the Las Vegas’ Hard Rock Casino due to his ‘counting cards’ skills
Which tells me:
1. He’s fucking smart. I mean, he can pick up/learn languages pretty well (one of which is Arabic,Damian are you listening and he majored in Middle Eastern Affairs in college) and he is a boss at poker/blackjack.
2. He’s a workaholic. Look, I’ve never made a film (or even a short video) in my entire life, but he did 4 in one year at the same time and I bet he’s done similar workloads throughout his career. Also, see: two-hour a day workout regime for more evidence.
3. He can do good enough impressions to freak the fuck out of God™.
= Ben Affleck is well on his way to being Ultimate Batman
All Hail the mighty Bat!
(edit: someone didn’t like my previous gif-use due to literal-Superman-bashing, and I agreed. Sorry, I didn’t see Supes little face on the wee gif-screen. Here’s some batfleck just being the best Bat he can)
ignore me creepy internet researching the fuck out of him to get my hands on this info. i needed it to defend myself from absolutely no one. fucking fight me
I'm on mobile, and I don't know if this is where you usually take prompts, but I'll request Tim and Bruce. Bonus points if it includes the line, "One of us is going to have to sleep eventually."
This is officially my favourite thing I have ever written. Thank you so much for the prompt :D
They’re at a stalemate, have been for days now. All because Bruce had dared to suggest Tim stop drinking coffee and get some sleep. A reasonable suggestion, Alfred had assured him, since Tim is, after all, only fourteen years old and much too dependant on caffeine to keep him going than anyone should be. Unfortunately, Tim hadn’t seen it that way.
No. Tim had slowly lowered his newly-filled coffee cup from his lips and stared at him until Bruce had shifted uncomfortably. Then he had smiled sweetly and asked mildly, “Are you going to take your own advice?”
And that’s where Bruce went wrong, Alfred was quick to point out six hours later when he came down to invite them up for breakfast. Because he should have just said yes, poured his own coffee down the sink and gone to catch a few hours sleep between his thousand-thread-count sheets. But he didn’t. Because Bruce is a grown adult dammit. And more than that; Bruce is the goddamn Batman. He couldn’t just give in to the sass of a teenager, even if that teenager is a sleep-deprived, more-caffeine-than-blood Robin.
His second mistake had been saying something of that effect to Tim, who had rolled his eyes and taken another gulp of coffee before stating that he wouldn’t stop drinking coffee, nor would he sleep, until Bruce did so as well.
So here they are.
Three days later.
And Bruce is beginning to regret his entire life.
(“Nothing new there,” the painfully Jason-like voice in his head snorts.
Bruce reminds himself hallucinations are normal after forty-eight to seventy-two hours with no sleep.)
“One of us is going to have to sleep eventually,” Bruce sighs. He runs a hand through his hair, looking sidelong at Tim’s equally mussed locks.
Tim takes a pointed sip of his lukewarm coffee. “I vote you.“
From somewhere in the depths of the Cave, Alfred sighs and mutters something about stubborn fools. Followed a moment later by a louder rumination about good role models. Bruce chooses to chalk that one up to auditory hallucinations; Alfred generally prefers to give useful yet sarcastic advice to his face.
"Don’t you have school?” he wonders in Tim’s direction, sure the boy had vanished form the cave for several hours each day but not entirely sure that’s where he’d gone. “Don’t your teachers ever question why you look so exhausted?”
The teen glances up from the case files he’s poring over to give Bruce a flat stare - he wears the expression so often Bruce is beginning to think it’s just his resting face. (You know, if he ever rested.) “Yes. And I tell them it’s because the hours I should be spent sleeping are spent running across Gotham’s rooftops in tights,” he deadpans.
Alfred sighs. Bruce knows it’s definitely real this time because he’s suddenly standing behind them with a tray “More coffee, sirs?” he offers drily. “Or have you seen sense yet?”
Tim takes a mug and sniffs it warily, nose crinkling in disgust before he hastily sets it back on the tray. “That isn’t coffee, Alfred, it’s decaf.” He sounds so outraged that Bruce laughs. It may or may not be a touch hysterical.
“I’ll have you know, Master Timothy, that you’ve been drinking decaf for the last two days.”
“Hah!” Bruce points a mocking finger at his young partner. “Alfred wins.”
“I wasn’t aware I was even playing,” Alfred comments over Tim’s indignant, “You’ve been drinking it too!”
That makes Bruce pause, his sleep-deprived mind working over the facts of the Case of the Decaf Coffee. He frowns into his near-empty mug as realisation washes over him. “We both lost,” he tells the unfaithful liquid. It ripples ambiguously.
“I’ll just get a blanket then,” Alfred is saying, “Perhaps a pillow as well…”
And when Bruce looks up, blinking sluggishly, several minutes have passed and Tim is fast asleep, as though the very suggestion that his bloodstream had no caffeine in it was enough to knock him out, head cushioned on his folded arms, an errant sticky note stuck to his ear. Bruce reaches out to poke him just to be sure he isn’t foxing, but his hand doesn’t quite make it, flopping onto the table and brushing Tim’s fingers with his own. Then his eyes slide shut and he too is asleep.
(They find out several hours later - at a more reasonable hour of the morning - that not only did Alfred win, he cheated. The last mugs of coffee were laced with a mild sedative. Bruce can’t even bring himself to be more than a little irritated because at least Tim finally slept.)
Request: “Could you do a coffee shop scenario? where the reader bumps into bruce or something?”
When you forget your wallet, Bruce being the kind gentleman that he is, pays for your coffee.
“No no no, crap…” You muttered to yourself.
Your fingers rummaged through the rubbish in your hand bag, the objects colliding with each other, making a soft clattering sound as you tried to find your wallet, which was so obviously not there.
But you still had hope. That maybe, hopefully, it was there. Somewhere. But no. You awkwardly, and slowly, looked up, and briefly turned around to peer at the ever growing line behind you. You smiled politely and in defeat towards the cashier.
“I’m really, really, sorry, but i’ve forgotten my card.” You slowly stepped out of the way, “Don’t worry about the coffee.”
With your head down, you made your way to the corner of the coffee shop, sitting yourself down. You leaned back, and closed your eyes. You breathed in, and out, with no particular reason, maybe it was to keep your already stressed body somewhat calm. You leaned your elbows on the table, your hands rubbing your temples.
Why today, did everything just seem to not work for you?
And then, a soft aroma of roasting coffee beans hit your nostrils. It didn’t surprise you, this was a coffee shop after all. But it was when you could feel the steam brush your face, that you opened your eyes. Your eyes were met with a coffee cup. Surprised, you looked up slowly, mouth slowly agape at the person sitting in front of you across the wooden table. You sat up straight, clearing your throat as the man before you smiled kindly.
You looked back at your cup, and at his in his hand. Your brows crossed, ‘Is this for me?’ You thought to yourself.
“Flat white with one sugar?” The man asked. You continued to focus on him, as if he was some sort of alien.
“I hope i got it right. My memory isn’t that reliable, but it’s what i remember hearing you order, before…you know…”
“I couldn’t pay?” You finished. The man lifted his coffee in agreement before taking a sip.
“Coffee, like water, is an essential part of my day, and seeing a lady like yourself without it-“ He shook his head, “I simply couldn’t let it happen.”
“How heroic.” You smiled,
“Nice, or kind would have been another word to use, but ‘heroic’ is fine too.” He smirked.
And you laughed quietly, smiling wide at the charming man.
“How much was it? I’d like to pay you back when i can-“
“No need.” He interrupted, holding up his hand.
“No really, i can’t let you-“
“Honestly,” He interrupted again, with a soft deep voice, “ You don’t have to.”
You sat back, in disbelief.
“But…” He picked up, and you smirked to yourself. “If you would like to pay me back with another coffee,” he stood up, his chair dragging along the wood as did. He took out a card from his pocket and placed it on the table, but you had yet to look at it, as his eyes captivated yours, “Feel free to drop by my office down the road.” And then with a smile and a quick nod, he walked off.
Down the Road? That’s- You sat up, and reached for his business card in a flash.
“You’re kidding me…” You then let out a breath and dropped in your seat. You ran your hands through your hair, and laughed.
Cas works at a coffee place and just wants to know Dean’s real name because he’s cute but there he is scrawling “batman” onto his cup.
“What’s a Cappuccino?” the man who walked in asked the behemoth trailing behind him. “It’s like espresso with milk and foam.”
They came in everyday together and talked for about an hour then left. Cas thought it sounded like ideas for Dungeons and Dragons or something. The shorter one caught his attention first, the way he walked in with a natural confidence. And obviously because he was hot as hell.
“What would you like today?” the barista asked when he walked up to the counter. Cas was amazed at how he hadn’t noticed before, but the man had the prettiest greenish hazel eyes, so easy to get lost in. He also had the cutest freckles dotting his features.
Sounding unsure and slightly squinting his eyes he replied “Um…can I get a cappuccino?”
“Of course, what’s your name?” Cas looked up through his eyelashes ready to write today’s alias on his cup. Sometimes he wished the guy would just tell him his real name but then he wouldn’t get to see his accomplished expression.
“Batman” he said with that trademark chuckle and grin. This time he even added a wink which made Cas smile.
He put down the cup and told the man he’d call him up. As he was about to take out his wallet Cas said this one was on the house and winked at ‘Batman,’ surprising him. He even surprised himself.
He went back to his usual seat by the window where the moose had taken out his laptop. ‘Batman’ glanced back at him, but quickly turned when Cas looked up.
“Cappuccino for Batman,” he called a few minutes later. When he reached out to pick up the drink he slipped Cas the ripped out corner of a page with a ten digit number on it and a name.