#the beginning was a flow

[haveihitanerve]

pt 3! @ineveryfandom jason as you asked...

Bruce, predictably, finally broke. "What does that mean??" He asked, baffled, but stayed in place at Dick's side, shooting an exasperated look over his shoulder at Steph and Tim.

Dick smiled, looking slightly loopy, like maybe he was high or something. Bruce was getting increasingly more concerned.

Tim groaned, and got to his feet, stretching. His body was still deliciously sore and achy from his own experience with Bruce, leftover warmth cradling his joints and massaging his back with delightful little squeezes.

"Why do you have to be such a detective?" Steph groused, also standing, and they ambled over, standing over the two fighters.

Dick stayed in his spot on the floor, a wonderfully dazed expression on his face, letting his body completely relax against the floor, leaning so that his head was in Bruce's lap.

Bruce let out a little huff, but started carding his fingers through his son's hair anyway, ridiculously, disgustingly fond in Tim's opinion, before looking up at them expectantly.

"Fine. Fine!" Steph threw her hands up, plopping down next to him on the mat, and stole his hand from Dick's chest, intertwining his fingers with her own.

"Hey!" Dick complained, voice slightly slurred, eyes still glazed. Bruce was getting very worried.

"You have a hand!" Steph pointed out, letting out a quiet breath as her fingers curled fully around Bruce's. Dick let out a grumble but let it go, too entranced by the movement on his scalp.

Tim huffed a laugh as he dropped, shaking his head at them. Bruce cleared his throat.

Tim looked at Steph. She waved her other hand at him, humming absently as she leaned against Bruce. "You tell it." She murmured, rubbing against Bruce's arm like an affectionate cat. "I don't think I can formulate words like this, and you'll say it better anyway."

Tim rolled his eyes at the clearly false statement, but reluctantly faced Bruce, fingers picking at his sleeves. "Um. Well." He hesitated, looking at Dick. As though facing Bruce directly was too much. "You know how you were hit by that curse?"

Bruce hummed the affirmative, waiting. He had puzzled out that much for himself, thanks.

Tim's cheeks colored as though hearing the silent thoughts, fiddling with one of the many rings that littered his fingers. "Well uh... y'know how she told you it just like.. sent out warmth?" Tim waited for another nod. "She kinda... I mean she didn't lie, exactly, it does feel warm, but like-"

"Basically when we touch you we can feel your emotions towards us." Steph cut him off, finally deciding that her explanation would be less muddled than Tim's.

Tim nodded his agreement, and Dick lifted a lazy finger, still acting too suspiciously drunk for Bruce's liking. "So that's what this is." He murmured, a smile crossing his face. "Huh." He tilted his head back, smiling dreamily at Bruce. "I love you too Dad."

When it registered that they weren't, actually, messing with him, Bruce jerked away, scrambling up and retreating to the other side of the mat as he realized the implications of their words. Dick let out a muttered curse as his head thumped against the mat, and Steph almost fell on top of him, caught off balance.

"What the hell?" She scowled at him, and Dick followed suit, sitting up to glare at his father.

Bruce was shaking his head, holding up his hands as though to ward them off. "N-no." And if his voice hadn't been shaking, they would've advanced on him. As it was, they stayed seated, watching him.

"My-my brain is n-not a pleasant place to be." Bruce's hands were actively shaking, and he lowered them to his sides, fists clenching. "I-you shouldn't have-" He seemed infinitely afraid and guilty all at once.

"Bruce." Tim's voice was firm. "Look at me."

After a moments hesitation, Bruce did, eyes guilt ridden, hands clenched at his side.

"Look at us." Tim continued, gesturing at himself, Steph, and Dick. "Do we look repulsed?" Bruce frowned at the odd question, then after a beat shook his head. "Do we look like we wanted to pull away from you?" Another head shake. "Did we, at any time, make you think that when we were touching you, we weren't enjoying it?" An infinitely small head shake.

Dick sighed, standing slowly, as though not to spook a frightened animal. Bruce felt like a frightened animal, ready to bolt at any loud noise. But Dick approached slowly, calm.

"Bruce. I know it's hard- I know you don't want to think about it, to talk about it. I know you think you are wrong and bad and everything you have ever done to us, or in our vicinity was harmful in some way. But look at me." He took Bruce's hand in his own, gently, and Bruce trembled.

"Look at me." Dick whispered, swallowing as the sudden wave of distinct warmth Steph and Tim had told him about flooded into him. "Do you want to know what I feel when I touch you? What your emotions reveal to me?"

Bruce looked very much like he did not, but Dick continued anyway, unbothered. "I feel pride, firstly. Then..." Dick blinked, caught off guard by whatever emotion he had just identified. "Awe.." He mumbled, smiling faintly. "You're in awe of me?" He mumbled, laughing lightly.

Bruce finally found his voice. "Of course." His voice was rough, lacking its usual silky smooth timbre, but no less soothing. "I am in awe of you everyday. Of all of you. Of the work you do..."

Dick chuckled lightly, squeezing his hand. "And yet you think yourself so wrong." He muttered, almost sadly, mostly to himself. Baffled.

"You want to know what I feel?" Steph asked as she stood as well, wandering over. Bruce seemed almost more afraid of her verdict.

"I feel... admiration. Confidence. Like you... like you're sure of me. Proud of who I am. Proud of who I've become. Not afraid to let the world see me at your side because you are confident in my abilities, in me." Her voice caught, and she grabbed Bruce's another hand, squeezing tight. As if she could squeeze back her own emotions into him. Make him see. To feel how much that meant.

Bruce's eyes were wet, and he choked out a hollow laugh. "Of course I am!" He rasped. "I would never be ashamed of you Stephanie. Of any of you."

Tim completed the circle around him, wrapping his arms around Dick and Steph's shoulders as though hoping they would be a conduit of Bruce's warmth. "Bruce, you care about us. You love us. We know it. But that, overwhelmingly, is what I felt. That you love me. Us. And that... that means so much." His voice faltered, and Dick wrapped his free arm around his brothers waist, taking over for him as Tim buried his face in his shoulder.

"Bruce, we know you love us. But to feel it? So unbridled like this?" He laughed, shrugging. "I don't know. It just... it means a lot. And we are not afraid of you. We love you too. Please. Please let us have this. For us. But for yourself too."

Bruce swallowed, but after a slow, achingly quiet moment, pried his hand from Stephanies, and gently touched Tim's cheek.

The teenager froze, body locking up for a fraction of a second, before he practically melted, leaning into the touch like he was an addict and Bruce was his drug.

And to see it in this light... in their light...

Footsteps clomped down the stairs and they all turned as Jason ambled down the steps, pausing with a raised eyebrow when he spotted them.

"What kind of weird cult meeting have I stumbled into?" He questioned, and if his concern weren't evident, they would have expected him to turn around and leave.

Steph opened her mouth to answer, but Bruce pushed between them, stepping forward. Jason eyed him warily.

Relations between the two had... improved, so to speak. Jason visited the manor more frequently, as evident, was able to work together with Bruce, and even came over to family dinners every Friday, and had managed to fall into an easy, less tense than before banter with Bruce.

It wasn't perfect, but it was progress, and that was all they could ask for. For now at least.

Bruce started forward slowly, and Tim frowned, moving to intercept him, but Dick caught his arm, giving a quick jerk of his head. No matter what happened, this was Bruce's decision, and how Jason handled it was up to him. This was between them. No one else.

Jason waited patiently, eyebrows drawn together in confusion, eyes darting over to the others every few seconds, but stayed. Bruce stopped, right in front of him, and the two sized each other up for a few seconds in silence.

"I was hit by a curse." Bruce's voice split the silence like a knife, and Steph almost groaned at how it ruined the cinematography of the moment, but Dick couldn't stifle his smile. Of course. It was all about consent for Bruce. He wouldn't force anything on Jason that he didn't want. Especially not his emotions.

Jason's eyebrows had risen in unison, and he watched, waiting for the climax, the punchline of the joke.

"The curse makes anyone who comes in contact with me feel whatever emotions I have for them, in the moment, and perhaps even prior." Bruce continued, eyes glued to Jason's face, searching for any sign to step back, to retreat. To stop.

Jason's eyebrows reached his hairline, but he didn't back away. Didn't throw a smoke bomb(as he had done twice before) and disappear.

Bruce swallowed. "I'm going to hug you now, Jason." He whispered.

Tim was too far away to tell, but he almost swore Jason's breath hitched. That it became a little erratic.

No one dared to breathe as Bruce slowly leaned in, and even the bats at the top of the cave paused their rustling for a moment.

Bruce's hugs were precise and enveloping. Cradling. His arms wrapped around Jason's torso slowly, hand snaking up to cup the back of his head.

Tim wasn't sure if either one was breathing. He certainly wasn't.

Bruce's fingertips finally grazed Jason's skin, hand cupping his neck. Jason's knees buckled as his arms snagged out for purchase to keep him afloat. That stability just so happened to be Bruce, and he slammed forward, collapsing into the hug.

Tim didn't have super hearing, but he was almost 100% sure he heard his brother mutter, "Oh fuck."

the full bit :)

(anon that is writing the split emotions!bruce fic here) YOU ARE GIVING ME TOO MANY BRAIN WORMS

THEY SCREAM WITH IDEAS

SO I SHALL PLUCK ONE OUT AND GIVE TO U

Bruce gets Magic-ed to make others be able to feel his emotions if they make skin to skin contact

He does a bunch of tests to see if he's safe to be around since doesn't know the exact spell he got hit by and eventually Z gives him the green light to head back home

He gets out of his suit and the rest depends on the first batkid that he runs into

Just really want them to be able to feel the love, pride, worry, and fondness he's terrible at expressing (and them [un]subtlety trying to feel his emotions towards them again)

URGH NOOO!!!

Because this could go so many ways... fuck

Zatanna waved the stick around his face one last time, almost colliding with his nose, and Bruce did his best not to flinch. "Its called a wand." She growled under her breath, as though hearing his thoughts, but Bruce wasn't much interested in what the damned thing was called.

He knew she was being so careless on purpose, maybe even hoping she'd accidentally give him a good whack, but Bruce wasn't taking any chances bringing home some dangerous magical curse, so she would do her scans as many times until he was satisfied.

"There." She huffed, sacking back into her chair, and offered him a bland smile. "Completely harmless. I told you Bruce. The only thing this weird ass "curse" can do is warmth." Bruce raised a skeptical eyebrow, as he had done when she'd first told him.

"Warmth?" He echoed hollowly, doubtful still. Zatanna rolled her eyes, smacking a hand to his forearm. Immediately, Bruce felt his blood buzz under his skin, forearms tightening. Zatanna let out a little sigh, smiling at him faintly, but it was more sincere than before.

"Yep!" She popped the p and stood, suddenly more energized. "Just passes over some warmth." Her smile didn't seem all too truthfully, but Bruce doubted her sudden good mood would last if he demanded another check.

"Alright." He sighed, finally standing, and Zatanna tapped him fondly on his chest.

"Just because you have seen the bad consequences of magic does not mean it can't be good." She murmured. "And this is a good one!" She grinned, smile almost too wide. Too mischievous. Bruce's eyes narrowed. He'd seen the expression one too many times on his children's faces to not be wary. "It's been cold in Gotham recently, maybe this will be a blessing for your home." Zatanna distracted innocently, opening the door to impolitely tell him to leave.

"Hn." Bruce hummed back, slipping his cowl back over his head, his gloves following. "Thank you Z." Her smile softened as she leaned against the door, though her eyes still sparkled in the dim glow of the streetlights.

"Anytime B. It should wear off in a few days. Until then, enjoy it." And the door was closed in his face. Bruce huffed in amusement, tugging out his grapple gun and swinging towards the Manor.

"Oracle?" He clicked his back teeth, coms activating. "Am I all clear to head home?" Barbara hummed back confirmation, the familiar and soothing sound of her typing quickly filling his ears.

"Yeah- hey can you swing by quickly? There's a package for Dick and I won't see him until later, I'd rather he get it now." Bruce rolled his eyes but obediently switched routes, running along the familiar roofs that led to the Clock Tower.

"I'm not an errand boy for y'alls love letters you know." He grumbled, even as he undid the hatch and slipped inside the slightly warmer confines of their communication tower.

Barbara grinned at him from the computer, spinning in her wheelchair to roll over to the couch and grab a small rectangular package. "Long day today or why am I being greeted by the Gotham "y'all"?"

Bruce rolled his eyes again, accepting the small parcel and wedging it under his arm. "Hilarious." He grumbled, leaning forward to capture Babs in a quick hug.

She started at the sudden embrace, but quickly relaxed, arms circling around his waist in a known fashion. "Any particular reason?" Her voice was muffled by his suit, but Bruce heard her anyway.

He shrugged, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head before pulling away. Babs blinked, dazed, her hands fluttering near her head for a second, and she regarded him oddly.

"Just missing my kids." He murmured, one leg already out the window again. Barbara waggled her finger in his direction, already over her momentary lack of composure that Bruce wasn't quite sure where it originated from.

"Haven't adopted me yet!" She cried, faux dramatics and outrage. Bruce just lifted the package in response.

"If he doesn't hurry I will." It was an empty threat, seeing as both Barbara was already a legal adult and had a father of her own, but the emotion behind it was all that mattered. Barbara laughed, waving him away.

"Good night B." He smiled, slipping back into the night. His pace to the Manor increased, as Zatanna was right, it had grown exponentially chilly recently, and it was only a few minutes before he'd reached the cave and slipped inside.

"B-man!" Bruce almost jumped, almost, but the subtle flinch was enough to send Stephanie to the floor, cackling with laughter. "OH that's my best moment yet!" She cheered from the floor, grinning up at him as he loomed over her, glowering.

"Good evening." She greeted, sticking her hand up as though to shake, or ask to stand. Bruce rolled his eyes and ignored both, side stepping the child on the floor to place the package for Dick on the bat-table.

Steph sighed dramatically from where she lay on the ground, and shuffled her feet so that she was at a better angle to look at him. "Rough day today huh Boss?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow as he slipped off his cowl, depositing it onto the table as well. "Why are you here Stephanie?" Steph pouted, even going so far as to cross her arms.

"Sick of me already are we?" There was distinct teasing in her tone, but enough vulnerability that Bruce didn't immediately agree. Instead he rolled his eyes again, pretending he hadn't heard the moment of weakness.

"Stephanie I'm afraid you've grown on me. Like a tumor." He deadpanned instead, spinning in his chair once before smacking his feet to the ground to halt it, and leveled a hard look at her. "In order for me to be sick of you, I'd have to remove a piece of myself."

Steph laughed, and if her voice was a little scratchy he ignored that too. She lunged to her feet, using the trick Dick had taught all Robins at some point, and Bruce turned back to the computer as she draped herself across the back of his chair.

She and Dick scared him, sometimes, with their utter lack of bones. They were both limber to an incredible degree, and having lived under Selina's guidance for over a year, Steph was very much catlike in her movements, currently arching her back as she lolled over his chair. Bruce didn't even want to know how she managed to stay balanced.

"Bring me anything fun from patrol?" she asked after a few seconds of silence as Bruce filled out the usual after-patrol forms. He glanced at her, unimpressed. "From patrol?" He repeated, playing dumb.

Steph rolled her eyes. "Oh come on Boss. Don't play dumb. Did anyone have anything fun?" Bruce rolled his eyes(if he did it any more he feared they'd fall out of his head), returning his attention to his spreadsheet.

"You know my stance on taking things from the people of Gotham." Steph scoffed, rolling off the chair and instead taking a seat on the table, lounging across it.

"They're criminals." She pointed out, like they hadn't had variations of this conversation almost once a week since he'd met her.

Bruce sent her an unimpressed look. "By most people's standards, so are we." he pointed out, his usual argument. Steph rolled her eyes, dropping down onto the table, effectively cutting off his access to typing.

"Can we just skip the fight today and go to what you got me?" She asked hopefully, smiling up at him. Bruce frowned at her, tugging his hands back from where she'd flopping on top of them. Her smile widened.

Bruce sighed, tugging off his gloves, and reached into one of his pockets. Steph squealed, sitting up, hands out expectantly.

"This doesn't mean I took it from anyone." He warned. Steph chuckled. "Ok old man- ya bought it. Fair and square. I got it. But you still got something for me!" He had no counter for that, so he reluctantly handed over the small gadget he'd purchased a few days ago when he'd been window shopping with Harley.

Steph stared at the small wad of black fabric, her face lighting up as she unveiled its contents. "Lock picks?" She gasped, looking at him with pure delight. Bruce nodded the affirmative.

"State of the art. I know your old ones are-" Before he could explain his observation and why he'd bought the little treasure for her(a remnant of their Batman and Robin days when she'd dropped little trinkets into the pockets that she'd stolen from criminals they'd apprehended and he started returning the gesture with his own gifts) her arms were around his neck in a hug.

Bruce startled in surprise, and his blood buzzed as her arms came into direct contact with his skin, but hugged her back. Before he had fully wrapped his arms around her though, Steph flinched back, eyes wide.

"What was that." She whispered, breathless, hand clasped tightly around his gift. Bruce frowned, before he realized what she was asking.

"Apologies for not informing you." Bruce apologized. "It's why I was home so late, Zatanna was checking it was nonlethal. I was hit with a spell that makes me exude warmth when I come into direct contact with someone." He explained. Stephanie's eyes narrowed at him.

"Is that what you'd call it?" She muttered, eyes dancing around nervously. Bruce frowned, hand reaching to touch his neck where she'd touched.

"Is.. everything alright? That's what Zatanna said it did.." he repeated doubtfully.

Steph let out a humorless laugh. "Of course she did. Fu-" Bruce sent her a warning look. "Frickin witch." Steph hastened. He nodded, a small smile curling his lips.

"Well, what did you feel?" Bruce asked, curious now. Steph hesitated, hands bunching her shirt.

"i- uh. I felt. Warm." She whispered. "Yeah... I guess. I guess I did feel warm." A small smile tugged her lips. "Zatanna was right. It does provide warmth to whoever touches you Bruce. You provide warmth."

Bruce frowned at the strange phrasing, and the sudden agreement with Zatanna when she'd previously been so vehemently against it, but as Stephanie hesitantly curled up again in his arms, muttering a thank you for her new lock picks, Bruce decided the issues wasn't worth pushing. Not so long as it wasn't bringing her any harm.

-ugh so that did not go in a way i'd planned actually- im not upset about it, it's fine and I actually did want Stephanie and Babs to be the focus of this one because my girls get way too little time with their not-dad for my liking, but it did spiral a little in the middle there and I took a second to get it back on track- anyway thanks/no thanks for infecting me with that little brain bug, but i enjoyed writing it at least!

[socialbutterfly19]

Happiness is my goal

[sometimesmaybespoof]

HALF LIFE, LAPFOX AND FEMTANYL🚨⁉️

[spaciebabie]

what i want for my birthday this year is that monkey wrapped in ribbons

[staab]

so I tried to make an animatic.. admittedly it’s harder than I thought, especially blocking! But I like it for a first try :)

[blluespirit]

i keep thinking about zuko during the day of black sun, starting down his father who's goaded him into staying by torturing him with details of his missing mother, only to use that opportunity to try and kill him again.... only for Zuko to use a technique Ozai did not even know possible, flowing through motions that are distinctly not firebending demonstrating a power so different and deeper than Ozai could ever fathom... idk man just zuko

[mistress-light]

It just shows how little these 'gamerbros' actually know of the Witcher lore and books. It has never been stated that a female can't pass the Trial of the Grasses; it just hasn't been recorded that one has successfully ever done so.

[wolfsong-the-bloody-beast]

I've got to say that having to create both Rook and the Inquisitor during the same sequence, before being able to play, is brutal. That's like half a day worth of work. I need to take a lunch break and a coffee break during it.

[wonderholegifs]

Rhett & Link's Wonderhole

[flowgence]

Merry Christmas and Happy New Years! Ignore that this is nearly two weeks after the fact!

[fumble-art]

Oversensory

[quatregats]

I'm rereading Master and Commander and I'm deeply in danger of just posting every single passage from it ever but I did love the way that the capture of the prize in Chapter 6 was framed on either side by the logbook's entry, and also the way he transitions out of it to set the scene and tone:

Sunday, July 1 … Mustered the ship’s company by divisions read the Articles of War performed Divine Service and committed the body of Henry Gouges to the deep. At noon dº weather. Ditto weather: but the sun sank towards a livid, purple, tumescent cloud-bank piled deep on the western horizon, and it was clear to every seaman aboard that it was not going to remain ditto much longer. The seamen, sprawling abroad on the fo’c’sle and combing out their long hair or plaiting it up again for one another, kindly explained to the landmen that this long swell from the south and east, this strange sticky heat that came both from the sky and the glassy surface of the heaving sea, and this horribly threatening appearance of the sun, meant that there was to be a coming dissolution of all natural bonds, an apocalyptic upheaval, a right dirty night ahead. The sailormen had plenty of time to depress their hearers, already low in their spirits because of the unnatural death of Henry Gouges (had said, ‘Ha, ha, mates, I am fifty years old this day. Oh dear,’ and had died sitting there, still holding his untasted grog) – they had plenty of time, for this was Sunday afternoon, when in the course of nature the fo’c’sle was covered with sailors at their ease, their pigtails undone. Some of the more gifted had queues they could tuck into their belts; and now that these ornaments were loosened and combed out, lank when still wet, or bushy when dry and as yet ungreased, they gave their owners a strangely awful and foreboding look, like oracles; which added to the landmen’s uneasiness.

[...]

Jack leant back against the curved run of the stern-window and let Killick’s version of coffee down by gulps into his grateful stomach; and at the same time that its warmth spread through him, so there ran a lively tide of settled, pure, unfevered happiness – a happiness that another commander (remembering his own first prize) might have discerned from the log-entry, although it was not specifically mentioned there: 1/2 past 10 tacked, 11 in courses, reefed topsail. AM cloudy and rain. 1/2 past 4 chase observed E by S, distance 1/2 mile. Bore up and took possession of dº, which proved to be L’Aimable Louise, French polacre laden with corn and general merchandise for Cette, of about 200 tons, 6 guns and 19 men. Sent her with an officer and eight men to Mahon.

[pastafossa]

Update. Almost done with the new TRT chapter but there's just a little more editing I want to get done (rewriting the first part and a two day bug put me a bit behind), so it should drop tomorrow (or today depending on when you see this). I'm going to hit the hay and then finish it up tomorrow between work and errands.

[stormpoetics]

I needed to read that - we all did

[cybernetic-programming]

just posted a kinda spoilery tba art onto toyhouse. :3 it's silly seeing the pillbaby form twice in the gallery,,,,