peeps: dc

anonymous asked:

Okay but fic idea: small Dick Grayson helping Barbara with makeup (for a dance or just 'cause or whatever). And like, he's actually fantastic with it??? Because he was in the circus and stage makeup was a thing, and now he needs perfect coverage 24/7 for the media and he also needs to conceal bruises and stuff from patrol so he knows a lot. Or, alternatively, Bruce helps Dick hone his makeup skills and is impressed by what he already knows? Idk man just anything with Dick and makeup haha

Confession: I put off answering this because I suck at doing makeup. It’s fun, but the only things I even put on are eyeliner and mascara and that’s like. Rarely. But I tried, and I hope you still enjoy!

“How do you even know how to do this?” Babs asks as Dick steps back and lets Barbara admire herself in the mirror. Barbara doesn’t really seem to understand what he’d done, but she seems to still like it as she moves her face this way and that, admiring Dick’s handiwork. “It looks amazing.”

“Thanks,” Dick says cheerfully. “My mom taught me when I was little. Spotlights and all that. I’d add glitter, but this is a dance, not a circus performance.”

Barbara hums, looking herself over, and then she shoots Dick a sly smile. “I could go for some glitter.”

“Yeah?” Dick laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “And what do I tell the Commissioner when he asks why you have sparkles on your face when you’re going to a high school dance.”

Barbara rolls her eyes. “Stop being a wuss.”

“You’re dad’s scary. I can be a wuss if I want to.”

“Okay,” Barbara concedes, wincing a bit. “So my dad is a bit scary. But I’m in middle school. I can wear glitter if I want to.”

“And I’m your date,” Dick says. “And I’m going to try to keep your dad as happy as possible. I like living, thank you very much.”

Barbara decides that right then is a good time to punch him in the arm. Dick shoots her a glare and rubs the spot, but she’s not looking at him anymore. Instead, she’s looking over his extensive makeup kit. Dick grins when she picks up one of the many brushes and shoots him a raised eyebrow. “Seriously, Dick. This is all from the circus?”

“Some of it,” Dick says, shrugging. “Bruce replaces whatever I run out of.”

Barbara gives him an interested look. “You still wear it?”

“Yeah.” Dick doesn’t elaborate, though. He doesn’t tell Barbara that he wears it sometimes when he’s missing his parents and the spotlight and he wants something to connect him back to the circus, or that he’s wearing some right now to conceal the nasty bruise on his jaw from patrol two nights ago. He just grins and says, “It’s a lot of fun to put on and wear, you know?”

Barbara sends him a suspicious, because she’s always been a lot smarter than him at everything, but she doesn’t call him out on anything. Instead she just rolls her eyes and says, “Sure. Whatever you say. Now how about you go downstairs and talk to my dad and Bruce before my dad starts strangling Bruce to death for ever adopting you and letting you become friends with me.”

Dick snickers. “You don’t think he’d actual strangle Bruce, would you?”

Barbara raises an eyebrow. Dick’s out of Barbara’s bathroom and flying down the stairs before she can say another word. She’s probably wrong, but Dick’s not up to betting against her right now. Besides, he’s actually looking forward to everyone surviving tonight to have fun at the dance, so it’s best to just make sure.

It’s going to be a blast.