#NO BRUCE YOU CAN'T CALL DIPS!!

[satoshy12]

After a new weapon of Skulker that he had gotten from Vlad, a injured Danny Phantom injected with a new kind of Poison started who is about to get forcefully younger. In his last power to escape from Skulker taking his Pelt! Or bringing him to Vlad he jumped into the Portal. Outside of the Portal he was in a new World as a Tiny Toddler with powers, good news was other people too had powers but Danny still will hide it. So it goes little Toddler Danny walking around DC Earth, and whenever someone wants to Capture him, he escapes with his powers. It was a cat vs Mouse for the Police, Heroes, Villains and Civilians of the Cities.

Toddler Look, just change Eye Color

[hopesangelsprite]

Stress Relief

Pairing: Battinson x reader

Warnings ⚠️: zero plot whatsoever, pure filth, mating press, overstim, male moaning/whimpering, dubcon maybe (??? Idk), unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it bros), creampie obviously, marking if you squint

MINORS/AGELESS ACCS DNI

Protecting an entire city would take a toll on anyone, so of course some kind of stress relief would be on order. And if that someone was constantly sleep deprived, full of internal conflict, and said city happened to be Gotham... that poor soul had better found a damn good stress reliever.

That's where you come in, pinned underneath your cities' Vengeance for however long he'd keep you there. Night after night, sunrise after sunrise. Tonight was no different than any other except the fact that your broody boy toy had more of an appetite than usual.

Right now, all you can feel is him and all he can feel is you. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder just how long he'd felt this way, just how much frustration he harbored within himself. But the drag of his member against your warm walls is enough to dismiss the thought completely.

"Fucking hell.", Bruce breaths into your shoulder at your clenching walls, "You're so good to me.". Butterflies invade your stomach, intertwining themselves with the stir of your orgasm. You're close to coming again for the nth time this session. Just what had he seen on those damp, dark streets tonight.

"Y-you mean it?", you whimper out as if he isn't fucking your brains into the mattress beneath the two of you. He groans and nods feverishly as his hand abandons your tits to grip the headboard that's banging loudly against the wall. "We're gonna be together forever, princess. Won't let anyone hurt you... just me and you.", he promises in that sweet voice of his. The sweetness of his words and the smoothness of his thrusts mingle perfectly enough to send you farther over the edge. You call his name as you continue coming.

And he talks you through it, praising you and whispering the sweetest nothings. He never misses a stroke, thoroughly fucking you through your orgasm and well beyond it. Your walls continue to flutter and your body feels scorching underneath his. The tips of your fingers as well as the palms of your hands buzz, a telltale sign of overstimulation. You mewl at the feeling of another orgasm building already. Then, his pace changes as he begins to lose himself for the first time tonight. This time you're unable to stop him.

"Fuck.", he swears as his hand leaves the headboard and grips the pillow next to your head. Bruce's face falls back into the crook of your neck and he audibly moans. You can feel the tension rolling off him in waves, the smell of his leather suit now completely masked by the smell of sex in the air.

His pace quickens and more curses fall from his reddened lips. You mewl and begin to squirm as the overstimulation starts to grow far too much. Though your brains have been thoroughly fucked out, you manage to beg, "P-please... I can't-". You cut yourself off with a loud wanton moan as Bruce's other hand slips between you from your other thigh to press on your lower abdomen. He feels so good inside of you it's unbearable.

Your moans spur him on as he presses a bit harder. "Need... need you to come for me. One more time.", he requests drawing a whine from you. "Can't, 's too much!", you whine as you feel your thighs shake on either side of him. He huffs as he presses again earning pretty sobs of pained pleasure from your puffy lips. "You can, princess, know you can. Said you could take it, didn't you?", he encourages in between pretty moans and you can hear his sanity slowly slipping away. Still, you protest once more.

He growls lowly as his hand dips lower to begin mercilessly toying with your swollen clit. You yelp as you reach between your bodies to weakly tug at his wrist. He's stronger than you so your struggling waxes futile. "Bruce-", you try to reason with him, "Too much!". He quickens his ministrations at your words and you cry out as you feel the familiar knot begin to form in the pit of your stomach.

"Shh shh shh, it's okay... almost there, princess.", he whispers through labored breaths, "I'm almost there.". You want to tell him that you almost are too, but you can't seem to form the proper words. His grip on the pillow tightens, and the movement of his hips becomes jerky.

"Fuck, please I need it so bad... So, so badly.", he moans quietly, almost to himself, "please, please, please..". Hearing him completely lose his composure nearly throws you off the edge. The way he's begging damn near sends you into orbit. "Pretty girl's gonna let me cum inside, right? Please?", he asks and your heart swells with love. Who are you to deny him when he's asking so politely?

You nod as your vision fills with stars, "Yes!". He whimpers into your neck as his frantic thrusts signal his impending release. You begin to squirm harder, and his hand slides from the pillow to grip your hip. His hold on you is strong despite the soft sounds leaving his mouth.

He presses you farther into the mattress, and you're sure you'll have a bruise on your hip the size of his hand tomorrow morning. "Jus' a little bit more..", he trails off to bite at your hickey covered shoulder. "Need to finish, I'll be so f-fucking good to you... be so fuckin' good to my princess, promise.", his words slur together. With that, you come for the umpteenth time and he's not too far behind.

The both of you shudder with overwhelming pleasure, and weak whimpers of each other's names seem to be the only thing either one of you can articulate. Hot, thick ropes of his cum spurt into your spasming walls painting them white and filling you up so much it begins to leak out.

Secretly, you hope Gotham's streets keep sending him back to you even more needy than this.

[ghost-bxrd]

Sooo I have my own selfie related au and I was looking some info about seal and I found this:

Do you think this has any possible applications in you Selkie!Jason au bc I think it would be cool.

Like maybe Jason had a little sound he made around Bruce(and Dick + Alfred) when he was happy or looking for them and the others just thought it was some sort of vocal stim or something.

You could have Jason frantically making that call in the warehouse hoping his mom Shelia will at least stay with him in his final moments, or that his dad will find him.

Or the Bats noticing that Red Hood makes the same “vocal stim” Jason used to and it’s just one of the many things that tips them off to his identity.

My brain is chewing on this but idk what do you think?

Ooooo but wait! Human throats can't make seal sounds, BUT!!!

What if one time, while Jason is taking a dip in the cave pools, he gets really annoyed at Bruce ignoring him (because he thinks Jason is a ghost/hallucination) and makes that unique little cry of a pup calling to his parent?

And Bruce just kind of-- drops whatever he's holding and stumbles to the water.

(Tim told them about the unique seal pup calls while on a caffeine high and researching fun facts about seals. The moment Dick and Bruce realised, rewatching years old footage of Jason making the same calls at them over and over when he wanted their attention... it kind of breaks them.)

[a1307s]

Flickers of Green #1

(Dick Grayson & Jason Todd)

[Art is not mine! Credit to jjmk-jjmk]

Requested by: quirkyshortdumbo11

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

H/C: Hair Color

E/C: Eye Color

Word Count: 6,297

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Implement of rape

Mentions of Death/Blood

Cursing

———————————————————————

     No, no, no, no, no! I rush through the rubble, pushing through every and anything in my way. After six months of searching, six months of watching the Joker beat them, six months of watching what he's done to her, six months of nothing but them in my thoughts they can't be in here. Jason can't be in there. Y/N can't be in there. They can't be dead because of me.

     My lungs scream as I breathe in the ash and smoke, but I can't let it stop me. I have to find them. I have to find my robins. I have to find my robins alive.

     Despite my pleas to all the gods I don't believe in, I don't get them answered. I push over part of the fallen ceiling, my worst nightmares coming alive once I get it moved. Jason is curled up around Y/N, clinching her to his chest, even in death. Their blood mixes, soaking into their suits, into the rumble, and Y/N's beautiful hair. The same beautiful hair I tied a bow into the last morning I saw her.

     "Master Bruce?" Alfred calls through the coms. "Progress report?" His voice cracks at the second word, squeezing my heart even more.

     "I've... they've been located." I'll never forgive myself for this, but Dick's grudge against me will still last longer.

—————————

     I don't even know why I agreed to this. I swore off Batman, Gotham, fucking Bruce two years ago. Yet, here I am, looking over the stupid citizens of Gotham as he licks his wounds. I know why I'm doing it; because Alfred asked, because Alfred didn't want Bruce on patrol with an injury, because I can't say no to Alfred.

     Bruce's newest Robin is perched up on the ledge next to me as he rattles on about something. I don't know what he's saying or even care. I know I shouldn't hate the kid; Bruce's actions aren't his fault but what the fuck Bruce? Jason and... their blood wasn't even shed yet, and Bruce had replaced them. Replaced them with this kid that won't fucking shut up. "A part of being stealthy is being quiet," I hiss out, my words dipped in venom more than I intended them to.

     "Oh, right, sorry," Tim mumbles, obeying orders and falling silent. I close my eyes before taking a few deep breaths, making sure to exhale slowly to calm myself. "Nightwing-"

     "Quiet," I hiss again, trying to focus on my breathing so I don't misplace any more of my anger onto this kid.

     "Ya, I know, but-"

     "Robin! What? What's so important?" I bark at him, snapping my eyes open and turning towards him.

     "I think there's someone following the lady down there," he whispers, pointing towards the sidewalk across from us.

     "What?" I ask, snapping my eyes towards the direction he's pointing. He's right, a younger-looking woman is walking down the street, her skirt flowing around her legs as she walks, her long dress coat doing the same. Hidden in the shadows a couple steps behind the girl is a big figure. They slither behind the girl, making sure to keep pace with them. "I'm going to investigate, you stay up here as backup," I mumble, getting to my feet as I think of how to sneak up on the stalker.

     "Yes, Sir!" Tim chirps, skirring to his feet to follow me along the rooftops.

     "Don't call me sir," I order, before letting myself fall from the roof we've been perched on. I land gently on my feet, standing up to glance around, keeping track of the shadows and which ones will be best to hide in.

     "Yes, Si- er - Nightwing," Tim starts over the coms before correcting himself. "What's the plan?"

     The plan is to get it through the citizens of Gotham's heads not to walk around the streets at night. "I'm going to follow them on ground level in case the suspect makes any rash movements. You follow along on the rooftops. Make sure to stay silent and keep pace. Do not move unless I say so."

     "Okay," Tim mumbles, pokes of his red suit coming in and out of view as he creeps along the ledges. I keep myself engulfed in shadows stretching out from the walls.

     "Once the lady is safe somewhere I'll take action to get this guy off the street. Got it?"

     "Got it," he calls over the coms again, ducking behind a vent as he waits for me to catch up a bit. So much for staying on pace. Despite Tim's eager steps, I stay parallel to the subjects, the only thing suppurating us is the thin street. Or at least I do until the lady turns around a corner.

     Her stalker follows, the corner streetlight exposing him for a second as he jumps between shadows. He's a bigger guy, easily over six feet and having anywhere from fifty to seventy-five pounds on me. It's impressive that he manages to stay hidden so well. Almost Batman impressive. From the glimpse I got, I also managed to see a red helmet covering his face which doesn't help me much to identify the culprit.

     "That's not good," Tim mumbles over the intercom, his voice laced with worry. "That's the Red Hood."

     "Red Hood? Is that the crime lord that's been piling up bodies faster than the Joker?" I whisper back, annoyance filling me up. So much for Alfred's 'it should be an easy night' speech.

     "Ya, that's the one," he answers, the worry only building up more in his tone. I stay tucked on the corner of the street, making sure this Red Hood guy isn't looking before I dart across the street. I make quick - but silent - paces as I sneak up on him. I need to jump in before this lady becomes his next victim.

     "Are you in place?" I ask, glancing up for a quick second to make sure the sidekick made it across the street too.

     "Yes."

     "Okay, change of plans, we can't wait this out and act later." Tim stays silent, waiting for my orders. "The next alley we pass, I'm going to pull him into it to take him down. The lady will scurry off as I handle it. As she's running off you tail her and make sure she gets somewhere safe, got it?"

     The line stays silent for a while before Tim's voice peeps up, "Yes, sorry, got it. I forgot you couldn't see me nod." What the hell kid? You've been Robin for almost three years now and you still make beginner mistakes.

     I shake the thought out of my head, focusing on the situation in front of me. The next alley is about five paces in front of the lady, making it about ten for the Hood guy and fifteen for me. I quicken my steps some, ending up right behind him as he passes the alley. I grab a hold of the man, tugging him to the right. Hood skids, his weight playing against him and causing him to fall hard. The silent street is filled with the sound of his helmet clashing with metal.

     "What the hell?!" The guy yells, quickly jumping back onto his feet. "Fucking Nightwing," he mumbles, shaking his head before stepping towards me.

     "Hood," I call back, lifting my fists to prepare myself and to cover my face.

     "Nightwing!" Tim calls over the com.

     "Not right now," I hiss, ducking as Red Hood swings at me.

     "Just move aside Wing, it's not what you think," Hood shouts, going to swing at me again. 

     I duck again, going for his feet as I'm down here. "You're a notorious killer chasing after a girl, what else am I supposed to think?" He sees through my attack a little late, managing to avoid falling but he stumbles. He falls against one of the dumpsters causing the alleyway to be filled with a loud crack again, but this time it's paired with the screeching of his gun barrels sliding against the dumpster.

     "Nightwing!" Tim calls again causing anger to boil in me.

     "You're supposed to be tailing the lady," I answer back, pulling my Escrima sticks off my back as I approach my newest sparring partner.

     "I am, she's heading-" Tim starts, but I don't catch the rest of his sentence. While I was distracted with the newest Robin, Red Hood ducked down and swiped my feet out from under me. Dumb little shit using my tricks against me. He starts walking towards me pulling his gun out of its holster as he nears.

     "What do I do?" Tim calls, worry laced into his words once again.

     I reach for my nearest stick, debating if I should throw it at his head to buy me time or try another leg sweep. "I don't know Robin, whatever you think is best." I decide on the stick, if it doesn't get me enough time to get up, it'll at least aid me in knocking him over. Hood's gun lowers as he stands over me, the barrel pointed at my forehead.

     I tug my hand forward, setting myself up to throw it at him when I'm cut off. "Lady don't!" Tim's voice screeches out, filling my ears through the com as well as echoing through the alleyway.

     "Don't shoot!" A female voice yells, thin fingers wrapping around the barrel of the gun and pushing it away from my head, up towards the sky. Before I know what's going on the alley is filled with the echoes of a bullet being released from it. I stay frozen, my mask going wide as I take in the scene in front of me.

     The lady from earlier is standing next to me, her hand still around the barrel and her arm stretched up as it's pointed into the sky. Her hair is in two buns on top of her head, the H/C color of it reminding me of Y/N's hair; well besides the streak of grey wrapped through her left bun. I don't need to be thinking of Y/N right now, that'll only distract me from saving this lady. "What the fuck is your problem, you daft cow?" The lady yells, ripping the gun out of Hood's hand.

     Daft cow? Okay, this girl or Bruce or even Robin has to be fucking with me. There is no way this random ass woman uses the same insult as Y/N. Much less the same British insult she picked up from Alfred. "Don't stand there and look dumb at me. What do you think you're doing?" She repeats, her hands pointing the gun towards the ground, her fingers nimble as she works to drop the magazine.

     "I... hi," Red Hood spits out, seeming just as lost as me.

     "Hello," the lady answers back, handing the empty gun back to him before turning towards me.  What the fuck? The face looking down at me is the spitting image of Y/N... well a slightly older Y/N. "Here you go," she says kneeling to hand me the magazine.

     My focus stays trapped in her eyes. They're shiny and bright and the same E/C color Y/N's are - were. Y/N's were. Because she's dead. Unlike Y/N's eyes, this girl has flickers of green around her irises. "Thank you?" I say, the words coming out as a question instead of a statement. I sit up, moving slowly towards her to take the magazine being held out to me.

     "You're welcome!" She chirps out with a smile. The same feeling of warmth I get - got - from Y/N's smile fills my chest, loosening some of the knots of stress. "What are you two fighting about anyway?" She asks, standing back up.

     It can't... she's not... "How?" I spit out, skirring to my feet.

     "How what?" Tim asks, appearing at my side.

     Y/N's - she's not Y/N - this lady's face falls as Robin comes into her sight. Her jaw clenches, eyes going hard making the green stand out more. "I got to go," she whispers, her tone throwing imaginary daggers alongside her words.

     She goes to walk past us, but she's stopped by Red Hood grabbing her arm. My hand falls to my belt, my fingertips grazing a bat-a-rang as Tim does the same. "Let... let me walk you home," he whispers, barely loud enough to meet my ears.

     "What the fuck is with all you superheroes?" She asks, shaking off Hood's hold on her as she glances around the three of us. "Two days ago, I had a frantic Batman shoving hundred-dollar bills into my hand. You- " she starts, tossing her hand towards Hood "-have been trailing me for three blocks, you-" her hand shifts from Hood to Robin "make me unbearably angry for god knows why, and you, you fucking daft cow belong in Blüdhaven, not Gotham so why are you here?" Her hands fall to her hips as her right one pops out some. Her eyes are still hard and beautiful, and I so badly want her to be my Y/N. "Are you going to answer me?" She sasses, her head tilting as she looks up at me.

     "I..." My words stick in my throat as I look at her. I lift my hands some, their shaking very noticeably. They don't stop shaking as I place them on her shoulders. She's warm and real and right here. Her eyes soften, shifting to confusion instead of anger. "Y/N?" I finally weasel out.

     "Good guess," she says a smile crossing her face as her hands fall from her sides.

     "Y/N?" I repeat, my heartbeat filling my ears.

     "That's my name, don't wear it out," she teases, shrugging my hands off her shoulders before slipping past me.

     My mind screams at me to walk after her but my body refuses to move. It takes a second for my mind to clear and for my eyes to adjust to the guy standing in front of me. The Hood has barely moved an inch this whole time. "What's next? You going to end up being Jason Todd?" I half-heartedly joke, a broken laugh falling from my mouth.

     Red Hood hums a bit, turning his head in the direction Y/N went. He starts walking that way but ends up shifting to the left instead of the right. Before turning the turned he stops, his head turns, peering over his shoulder at me. "We both know that Y/N being alive isn't the only secret Bruce Wayne is hiding from the world."

     The words cut through me as he disappears. "Should we go after him?" Tim asks, pulling on my sleeve some.

     "We're going back to the Manor," I mumble, turning on my heels. Bruce has a lot of explaining to do.

———————————

     My heart beats loud in my ears as I sit in my patrol car. I tried talking to Bruce about Y/N but he just shut down like he always does. I've kept on his case for the past couple of days but if he doesn't go silent, he starts yelling about nonsense so he's a dead end.

     I talked it over - both Y/N being alive and Jason being the Red Hood - with Alfred. It turns out that Bruce has known about Red Hood being Jason since shortly after the first time they had a run-in. He did some digging and found out the Al Ghuls had a hand in his revival - and his sudden turn to valiance. 

     Also, it turns out that he found out about Y/N two days before we did - like she said. Alfred said that Bruce believes Y/N doesn't remember much from before her death, or at least is pretending not to. Apparently, she had no idea who Batman or Bruce Wayne was. Personally, if I were in her situation, I would pretend not to know who he was too. Since finding out about all this I've been super pissed at Bruce and have refused to talk to him, let alone step foot in Gotham.

     Despite this, the universe has other plans. Gotham was short officers - shorter than usual - so my Captain back in Blüdhaven sent out a group of us to help pick up the slack. The whole time I've been here, I've been on edge. What if I see her again? What if I don't see her again? Being given the job of patrol doesn't help much either. All I get to do is sit here and wait; wait for someone to speed or try to mug someone else or try to do any other minor things. Sitting here and waiting doesn't help my thoughts to stop circling.

     I should talk to Y/N. I need to talk to her. What if she doesn't remember me? What if she does? Is she taking care of herself? How long has she been back in town? Is she alive because of the Laza pit too? If she is alive because of Al Ghul, did she serve time in the League of Assassins like Jason?

     These thoughts aren't any good for me. At least not while I'm on duty. I need to leave the distractions for the small time between being Officer Grayson and being Nightwing. Maybe some coffee would help. I decide to climb out of the cruiser, making sure to lock it before I start walking down the street.

     Around the corner from where I parked is a small twenty-four-seven cafe called Pamela's Cafe. It's always decked out in neon lights that stand out against the cloudy Gotham sky. We - Jason, Y/N, and me - used to go every night after patrol. It's one of the only businesses that have managed not to get burnt down or robbed into bankruptcy because their donuts are Joker's favorite. It's weird when you think about it but hey, at the end of the day, fed people - even villains - are grateful people.

     I round the corner, doing an environment check as I continue the short walk. I look into the cafe's big windows as I walk past them. They seem pretty busy, but I'm not surprised. Their prices are low, their food is good, and milliners and villains alike boast about it.

     The bell above the door jingles as I push the door open. "Welcome in Officer!" One of the workers chirps out. I nod at them, joining the line in front of the register.

     "I still don't understand why there are different colors," A feminine voice pipes up from across the room. It's soft, soft enough not to disturb her neighbors. The voice rings through my head, sounding like bells to my ears.

     A soft sigh follows her words. "The different colors are different element groups. Give me your notebook Y/N." I instantly recognize that voice. It belongs to Scarecrow - well Dr Crane. Before I can stop myself, I'm moving towards the voice. Is it my Y/N? If it is my Y/N, why is she talking to the scarecrow? Why is the scarecrow talking to her? Why the hell are they talking about elements?

     It doesn't take long for the doctor to fall into my view, and in turn, in my pathway. He hasn't changed much from my Robin days. He's still scrawny as ever with thin, dirt-brown hair, and big owl glasses that expand the size of his eyes. "Now, the teal-colored ones are basic metal elements," the doctor starts, bending his head down, probably to write in Y/N's notebook he asked for.

     As I come up to the booth they're sitting in, Y/N - my Y/N - falls into my sight. Her eyes are still a mix of the natural E/C and flickers of green as she turns from the doctor to me. "Hello Officer," she says, a lop-sided smile on her face.

     "How can we help you?" Crane says, standing up from his seat and attempting to squeeze between Y/N and me. It doesn't work very well. I'm a slim man but Scarecrow makes me look like a bodybuilder.

     "I just..." My thoughts escape me as I keep my focus locked on Y/N. "Just wanted to buy Y/N a coffee," I squeeze out, smiling back at her.

     The doctor glances between Y/N and me a few times before turning towards her. "Do you want him to buy you a coffee? I'll make him go away if you don't." Sure, you will, Doc. It's not like I've been whooping your ass since I was nine.

     "I don't mind. It's not very often a hot officer offers to buy me a drink," Y/N teases, propping her head on her hand as she continues to look at me with her loopy smile. She doesn't remember who I am, she doesn't remember who I am, she does not remember who I am.

     Crane looks me over once more before nodding towards Y/N. "I'll stop by later tonight to check over your chem homework, okay?"

     "Mkay," Y/N hums out, pulling her notebook to her side of the table. Scarecrow keeps his eyes locked on us as he slowly walks out of the cafe and continues to until he can no longer peer into the windows. "So, Officer-?"

     "Grayson," I offer, sliding into the booth seat across from her.

     "Bruce Wayne's Grayson?" She asks, curiosity filling her eyes, her head lifting and her fingers lacing together as she stares at me.

     "Ya," I say nervously, glancing around the cafe. "Do you want a coffee?" Of course not, Y/N doesn't like the taste of coffee, she always thought it was-

     "Coffee is too bitter. Do you mind if I get a Vanilla Frappuccino instead?"

     My eyes snap back at her, drinking in her smile, and her hair, and her beautiful eyes. God, her beautiful eyes that are somehow even prettier with the flickers of green mixed in. "Ya that's fine," I mumble, glancing at the line before looking back at her.

     She giggles a bit before propping herself up on the booth. She turns around, scanning the coffee bar. "Hey, Addison?" She calls out, getting a 'wassup?' in response. "Do you mind making me a vanilla frap and-"

     Y/N cuts herself off, looking over her shoulder at me. "Uh... just a black coffee and maybe a donut."

     "- and a black coffee with a chocolate chip muffin?"

     "Do you want me to use your daily discount?" Addison asks, getting another giggle out of Y/N.

     "No, Officer Grayson is buying me a coffee," Y/N responds, her words bubbling out of her. She turns back around, shifting back to a sitting position before talking to me. "You don't want a donut right now. They're way better after their first made so you got to get one either at three a.m. or three p.m. I've never been here at three a.m. but for some reason, I just know they're better than, you know?"

     "Ya, I know," I breathe out, my mind running a mile a minute. Does she remember coming here with me? Does she remember me? Or is it just her conscious knowing that she's supposed to know these things? Is she getting her memories back? How long until she remembers who I am? Who Alfred is? Who Bruce is? Does she remember what the Joker did to her? What he did to Jason? "So..." I peep out, watching her watching me, "Tell me about yourself."

     Y/N hums softly, shifting her eyes around. "I can't really tell you about myself because I don't know myself."

     "What can-"

     "Here you go!" The Addison girl struts over, cutting me off as she sets Y/N's coffee down. "Officer Grayson," she coos, taking her time to set down my coffee and my muffin. "Call me if you need anything, okay?" She adds, continuing her cooing as she gives me my bill.

     I glance down at it. Eight dollars, not too bad for two coffees and a muffin. "As I was saying," I start again, turning towards Y/N, "What can you tell me about yourself?"

     Y/N's a bit distracted, her smile gone and her eyes following the celebrity hopper as she slides back behind the counter. "Um... I hate the taste of coffee."

     I chuckle at that a bit. "Well, ya, I know that already." She turns back towards me, blessing me with the sight of her eyes again. "Do you have a favorite color?" It's orange, dark orange like Wally's hair.

     "I really like orange. Not like sunset orange, I think it's too light. More of a copper orange." My heart pings at her words but I try my best not to let it show on my face. "I don't remember much of... anything," Her voice is soft on the last word. "But I do have a fuzzy memory of the color."

     "Ya? What's the memory?" I push, picking up my cup. When I glance down at it, I see the waitress's number scribbled on it. I hate Gotham.

     Y/N takes a second, closing her eyes as if that'll help clear up her memories. "During it, I was on the beach I think... Maybe just in a pool, I don't know. But I was in a body of water and an older boy - like way older - was holding me. I think he was teaching me how to swim, I don't know," Y/N's eyes snap open, a small smile on her face. "I don't remember much of it; I just know his hair is or was orange and the color makes me feel comfortable." I know what memory she's talking about.

     Bruce took in Y/N when he took in Jason. Jay made it very clear that they were a packaged deal and Bruce didn't mind. He wasn't kidding either. He and Y/N ran the Gotham streets together for half their lives.

     It didn't take long to figure out that neither of them knew how to swim so the team decided to take a day off and go swimming at the Happy Harbor beach. It took most of the day to get Jason unattached from Y/N but somehow Wally managed too.

     Walles took her into the water and kept a hold of her as he swam around and eventually managed to get her to swim a bit on her own. At the time Wally was 20 were as Y/N and Jay were 12 so I'm not surprised she remembers him being so much older than her; it probably felt like that at the time.

     It's one of my favorite memories. It's one I look at every day. I have a picture of Y/N wrapped up in Wally's arms as they're swimming on my desk at work.

     "I have a question, but you don't have to answer it," I say, being careful with my words.

     "It's about my memory loss, ya?" She asks, her smile falling as she sips on her Frappuccino. I hum a yes, watching her body language for a response. I don't want to make her uncomfortable.

     "Well, there's not much to tell. Six months ago, I just... woke up in Gotham Hospital. The doctors say that I probably ended up in the crosshairs of Batman and one of the Gotham goons since I was littered with injuries and had quite a few wounds to my head. They also said I'm suffering from temporary dementia and that my memories will - hopefully - eventually come back."

     "How do you know your name is Y/N?" I ask, trying to push the images and videos from Y/N and Jay's death out of my head.

     "Well, they did a blood test and tested it against Gotham records. Apparently, I used to be quite the troublemaker. When they did my blood test, they found the DNA of some dude named Jason Todd on me. I have no clue who that is but apparently, we used to get into trouble together all the time. I googled him and... well, he's been dead for a couple of years. It turns out he was a ward of Bruce Wayne, just like you. Did you know him?"

     My heart pings again for Y/N. "Ya, I knew him," I answer, pulling my eyes away from her face. If I look at her too much longer, I'll end up crying. It must have been so hard for her. It must still be so hard for her. Waking up and not knowing who you are. Getting a lead to someone you were once close to and then finding out they're dead. Walking around living your life not knowing anything about yourself.

     Y/N hums, pulling my eyes back to her. Her hands are busy putting her school supplies back into her bag. "Well, I hate to dine and dash but I have a speech class to get to. I don't know if you'd be open to it, but could we meet up again? I'd like to get to know about this Jason guy. I'm pretty sure he was important to me."

     My heart squeezes in my chest again. Jason was important to Y/N. They loved each other so much. The thought of lying to her crosses my mind. I've adored Y/N forever, but I could never compete with the history she has with Jay, so I never tried.

     But now? She doesn't even know the guy. I could lie through my teeth and tell her that Jason left her behind after Bruce adopted him. With dementia - even temporary dementia - there's never a promise that any, let alone all her memories will come back. But I can't do that to her. Even if her memory never clears, I wouldn't be able to live a life of a lie with her.

     "Ya, I'd like that," I say, placing a smile on my face. I pull out my notebook, quickly scratching down my phone number and address before handing the paper to her.

     "Thank you for the coffee," she says, a smile huge on her face as she looks down at the yellow paper.

     "You're welcome," I answer back, my heart picking up some as she smiles before it falls back down as she walks away. "Y/N?" I call after her, quickly throwing down a ten before jumping to my feet. When I get near her I grab her arm so she can't get any further away. Once she's stopped I drop her from my hold. I shouldn't have grabbed her like that.

     "Ya?" She asks, looking up at me with those big, beautiful eyes. I could spend the rest of my days looking into them, counting all the green strips that have become recently present in them.

     "You... Bruce... Bruce Wayne and his butler, Alfred, knew Jason quite well too. I'm... I'm going to call him and tell him I talked to you, okay? Feel free to go to the manor at any time and talk to them too, ya?"

     "Okay, thank you, Officer Grayson," Y/N chirps out, her smile growing before she slides out of the cafe.

     Bruce doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve to see Y/N alive, doesn't deserve to see her well and happy and breathing. But Y/N does. She deserves to know who she is. She deserves to know there are still people who love her and care about her.

     My heart races as I walk out of the cafe, pulling out my phone on the way. My fingers shake so badly as I push the call button that I have to double-check to make sure I push it. "Hey Bird-Boy," Wally says, his voice as excited as usual.

     "Hey Walles, I think you should sit down. I... have some really good news."

———————————

     My heart jumps when my cell rings. I'm quick to grab it, a smile playing on my face when I see Y/N's contact. "Hello."

     "Hello!" Her voice is as cheerful as ever when I answer her call. "I think I have the right building, but your call button doesn't work."

     A couple of hours after we met up, she called me to set up another one. It was the longest week of my life, waiting to see her again, waiting to get the chance to show her who she was. "Oh, ya, I forgot about that. I'll be down in a second."

     "See you soon, Officer," She teases before the line is hung up. 

     I'm quick to rush out my door and down the stairs to the apartment building entrance. My excitement makes it a bit of a struggle to open the door, but I do manage to get it open. Today Y/N has her hair down with a headband bow-looking thing in it. Her eyes are still super bright, causing my breath to hick a bit when I take them in. "Are you going to let me in, or do you want me to melt away in the rain?"

     "No! Come in, please," I rush out, stepping aside so Y/N can get some shelter from the rain. She smiles a bit, sliding in next to me in the hallway. "Umm... this way," I mumble, gently grabbing her wrist to pull her towards my apartment. Y/N pitter patters behind me, her head shifting around to take in the hallway. Not that there's much to take in.

     I let go of her when we get to my apartment so that I can hold the door open for her again. She says a small 'thank you' before walking through the door frame. Y/N reminds me of a drop of sunlight as she walks around the living space. Breathing life into the dark, gloomy apartment. I watch as she walks around, taking in the small kitchen before shifting her attention to the living room. "How long have you lived here?" She asks, her fingertips running over the different books packed onto my bookcase.

     "About six years," I whisper, scared if I speak too loudly that this will all turn out to be some fantasy I've credited in my head. I take slow steps towards her, stopping close enough behind her that if she moves, she'll brush up against me. Y/N doesn't seem to mind though, her attention staying on the shelves.

     "What's this?" she asks, tipping one of the photo albums I have so she can look at it better.

     "It's a photo album," I answer, wrapping my fingers around the spine of it, slightly grazing her in the process. Y/N tilts her head a bit at the touch but doesn't say anything. "Do you want to look through it? It might help with your memories."

     "Maybe," She murmurs, sliding out from in front of me. Her back rubs against me as she moves, warmth enveloping me as she moves. I watch as she walks over to the couch, making herself comfy on it as she waits for me to follow.

     I follow after her, photo album in hand as I sit down next to her. Her eyes light up when I place it on her lap and open it, causing the green flickers in them to remind me of emerald silvers.

     Her hands are gentle as she flips through the book. She stops now and again, taking a second to take in the photo and think it over. She flips the page again, starting the Happy Harbor Swimming Day section. Thanks to M'gann there are about a hundred pictures from the day.

     "That's the guy! From my memory," Y/N cheers, pointing to a copy of the picture I have on my desk. "That's Wally." I can feel hope clawing up my chest as I try to push it down. "He's Kid Flash, ya? Oh shit, I don't think I'm supposed to say that." Maybe it's okay to have a bit of hope after all.

     "Don't worry, I already know he's Kid Flash," I reassure her, wrapping my arm around her neck to pull her closer to me.

     Y/N's eyes flicker up at me before turning back to the photos. "My memories are coming back faster than they have been," she says, her eyes flickering again.

     "That's a good thing."

     She hums softly, flipping another page and taking in the pictures. "I'm remembering a lot about Jason, and you."

     My chest tightens some, both hope and fear seeping in. None of us are perfect, especially those of us who serve the world as vigilantes. It leads to a lot of fear and stress and anger that likes to manifest and cause fights. I've picked my fair share of fights. With Bruce, with Alfred, with Jay, and Y/N. I don't want those to be the memories she remembers first or the only memories she could get back of me.

     "Ya?" I finally squeeze out after a pause of silence. It feels like my heart falls out with the words.

     "Mmhmm" she hums, flipping the page again. She's finally out of the beach day and is now looking through the photos from Jay's 13th birthday. "I remember calling you Wing all the time which is weird. Maybe? Maybe not since I remember Wally being Kid Flash. You're like super deep into the hero gig ya?"

     "Ya... ya I am."

     "Was I a hero?"

     If my heart didn't fall out with my words before it sure as hell did now. It's going to kill me having to tell her everything, having to tell her how she died. "There's a lot I need to explain to you," I finally say, pulling the photo album off her lap and placing it on the table in front of us. Her eyes turn towards me and once again the flickers of green trap my attention. Tonight is going to be longer and more painful than any patrol I've ever done.

———————————————————————

[puddingcatbeans]

timkon; kon has a peculiar cuddling habit.

It takes Tim two months to notice. It's not his fault though—his team has always been very tactile, and they've made it their ongoing mission to cure Tim of his touch starvation. Kon is probably next on the list for touch-starved-ness, but he takes to cuddling like it's a challenge, and everyone knows how much Kon likes winning challenges.

So it's not unusual for Tim and Kon to be seen sitting practically on top of each other when they're hanging out at the Tower, at the farm, in Tim's apartment. Bart has started calling them "TimKon" for their buy-one-get-one package deal, and Cassie is still gloating about winning the betting pool for when they'd finally get together. Their lives are filled with violence and crises and teenage angst, they should get some points for choosing cuddling a coping mechanism instead of the myriad other methods their peers and mentors have chosen (cough Bruce and his adoption addiction cough).

And the thing is, Kon is very comfortable, okay? His very defined muscles make for a very nice pillow. And he gives the best hugs, probably only second to Dick's patented Big Bro Hugs™. So Tim maybe falls into a trance every time they fall into each other. It's not his fault.

But eventually, he starts to notice it.

It's subtle, really; innocent, as much as their relationship goes. Neither of them are super interested in sex. They've fooled around a few times before, because, well, teenage hormones. And it's nice, but they both agree that they much prefer falling asleep together more than sleeping together. So Tim knows it's not that. But once he starts noticing, he can't un-notice.

When they're sitting together on the couch, each doing their own thing: Kon catching up on the latest tv serial Gar's got him hooked on, one around slung around Tim's waist, and Tim tapping away at his tablet, most of his weight against his boyfriend. Said boyfriend's hand would slip under the hem of Tim's shirt, and then his thumb would absentmindedly be stroking back and forth along the skin just above Tim's hipbone.

When they're napping together after a long debriefing session, on their sides with Tim as the little spoon: Kon, plastered to Tim's back, would worm a hand under his sleep shirt and press his palm against the flat of Tim's belly. Not moving, not doing anything but holding him there.

When they're all piled up on the sofa for movie nights with the team, Tim sitting in the V of Kon's legs: Kon would hook his chin over Tim's shoulder, and his hand would dip under the collar of Tim's borrowed hoodie, and just stay there. His calloused fingers lingering on Tim's bare shoulder, thumb resting against Tim's collarbone.

Tim could chalk it up to just Kon seeking physical affection, or maybe this is just one of the quirks of being Kon's significant other. He doesn't mind, not really—how can he, when he feels so wanted? But he can't help but be curious.

They're in Kon's room, the soft murmur of the Kents downstairs and the early evening autumn breeze floating in through the open window. Kon has his back against the headboard, with Tim sitting in his lap. Tim is half-asleep, lulled by the rhythmic movement of Kon's hand on his back, under his shirt.

"Why do you do that?" Tim mumbles into Kon's shirt.

"Do what?"

Tim shrugs his shoulders—or tries to. He ends up just kind of wiggling in place. "That," he says. "Your hands. Whenever we cuddle, you always go under my clothes."

Kon stiffens, his hand freezing on Tim's shoulder blade. "Do you not like it? Sorry, I should've asked—"

"No, no." Tim shakes his head, shoving his forehead against Kon's neck. "It's, um. It's nice. I like it. I'm just wondering."

He feels more than hears Kon's sigh of relief. The hand at his back resumes its sweeping motions. Kon's chin lands on Tim's head, nuzzling a little. "It's not... There's no particular reason," Kon says. "You know how I run a little colder because I'm half-Kryptonian? Well, your natural body heat feels really good. Like, reassuring. I don't know. Lights up my dopamine centers or something?"

Tim pulls back. "Are you saying I'm your Tim-shaped hot water bottle?"

Kon blinks at him. Then a grin spreads across his face. "And you're just the perfect size, too!"

Huffing Tim pinches Kon. It probably doesn't even tickle, but Kon pretends to dodge, anyway. He's sweet like that. Tim leans forwards to bury his face into the crook of Kon's neck again. He tugs at Kon's shirt until he can worm his own arms under and slide his palms up Kon's skin.

Kon makes a soft sound. He curls around Tim, squeezing him gently. They stay like that, tangled together, breaths and heartbeats in sync, until Ma eventually calls them down for dinner.

[cuephrase]

Hi so I just saw that postnof yours abt tim witnessing dick at so many of his low moments and I got all of the incidents mentioned except one, where dick asks abt the adoption if there was no bruce wayne? Like. Bruce didn't adopt him, or bruce didn't exist and there were no other relatives? I can't quite figure it out lol

hi! okay so, short version, this goes down in batman #600 and i freak out about it here.

longer version: bruce has been accused/arrested for murder, the batfam cannot prove that he didn’t do it, and pretty much only dick and alfred are like certain of his innocence. bruce decides, “hey! wouldn’t it be so brilliant of me to break-out of black gate and be batman 24/7?” so he does exactly that, much to everyone’s dismay and they all go to meet/confront him at the batcave.

lots of arguing, bruce refuses to outright say he didn’t do it and then tries to leave. dick flips out and calls him a hypocrite because when dick had been accused of murder, bruce was like, “you can’t solve this case as nightwing”, and now when it’s bruce’s murder he’s just continuing to be batman.

he hits bruce with this:

to which bruce responds:

yep. mhmm. now mind you, besides all the obviously devastating implications of that- dick has only recently been adopted by bruce, and it has been on his mind constantly during this whole murder trial.

like he says, he never thought he could be more loyal to bruce, but on top of everything, he is his father now.

but if there is no bruce wayne? well:

dick asks who adopted him if there is no bruce wayne, and he is met with silence.

i literally had to like pause and compose myself before i went to the next page when i was reading this arc because oh my god??????!!!!!!

anyways, dick does not let him leave, they get into a massive, massive fight, everything hurts, and it ends only because dick ends up accidentally smashing the display case that held jason’s robin suit. while he’s frozen in horror, bruce takes that opportunity to hop into the batmobile and dip.

it is not a great night for dick.

they do eventually solve the case and make up:

honestly, if you have a way to read comics the bruce wayne: murderer?/fugitive arc is phenomenal. highly recommend.

but yeah, long story short, this is the moment referenced in the post! tysm for asking!

[inkyteaart]

DISTRACTIONS

Dick Grayson x Reader (vaguely implied that reader is also a vigilante)

Rating: M for Implied nsfw

Tags: Established Relationship, Flirting, Fade to Black

" Do we have to go to this Gala? I'm sure Bruce can handle it without us." Dick sighed at your complaint, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He glanced to the full length mirror against the wall, and adjusted his tie. The couple was getting ready for one of the Wayne Enterprises charity galas. It was something none of the Wayne children excelled at, but they did it to support Bruce.

"We told B we would be there, we can't just not show up…" He called to you as you were fixing your make up in the en suite bathroom. He heard the annoyed sigh, and the distinct clink of a compact hitting the bathroom counter.

Moments later you walked out of the bathroom, heels clicking on the hardwood. You were gorgeous, and while irritated, you had more confidence than when you first attended a Gala. Your confidence made Dick swallow down a lump in his throat. There wasn't enough time. The dress you wore was tight on your lean muscular body, defining your curves.

He was fixing the cuffs on his sleeves to occupy his hands when you walked…no strutted up to him. Suddenly his collar was too tight, but he maintained his composure. That was, until you smiled at him and turned. Brushing your hair over one shoulder you lowered yourself to sit in his lap.

"Could you zip this up for me?"

Strong scarred shoulders were on display as the back of the dress hung open. He watched them flex as you shifted to glance back at him. There was no way that look was on accident. With bright entrancing eyes, encircled with dark make up. He wondered briefly how you'd look with it tracking down your face.

He couldn't lose focus, couldn't let you distract him. "I'm on to you…" He warned you, grabbing the zipper and pulling. Still he couldn't resist a kiss between your shoulder blades,, then on the back of your neck as the dress zipped closed. He relished in the soft gasp and gentle shiver he received in response. After. He would devour you, after the Gala.

With the dress zipped, you stood, and he realized the dressed hugged your figure even better now. His gaze dragged up your body. Starting at strong thighs that could end his entire career, one being revealed by a slit in the dress. The dress hugged snug on the flare of your hips, dipping with your waist line. Up to your breasts, pushed up and together by the material. What he would give to be the one holding them right now, to feel the soft give of your body. Something so powerful that gave only to his touch. It was addicting.

All thoughts were brought to a screeching halt as one heel pressed into his chest. You had lifted one leg to press your heel into him.

" I don't know whatever you could mean, sweetie. Now would you be a doll and fasten these for me?" He followed the line of your leg, noting the tantalizing bit of hip the slit exposed with the motion.

It was hard enough to maintain control before, but you really were testing him tonight. His slacks felt particularly tight, the formal suit now much too warm for him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to try and calm himself.

As though sensing him regaining control, you gave a small whine. You reached out, grabbing at his tie and pulling softly, making his eyes snap open. "You're not going to leave me hanging here are you? Come on, please Dick?" He couldn't help the choked noise that came up the back of his throat. There was no winning this for him.

A sweet kiss was placed to your ankle as Dick reached up to fix the strap of your heel. "Wouldn't dream of it…" You smiled at him, letting go of his tie to card your hand through his hair.

One heel was replaced by the other, with you looking down at him expectantly. With how the dress moved now he caught a glimpse of the black and blue lace underneath. How was he supposed to say no? He repeated the same steps as before, kissing your ankle as he secured the shoe. Then his hands trailed up the soft skin of your leg, and he watched as your head rolled back at the feeling.

" You don't play fair…" He whined, moving to kiss up you calf, your knee, then the inside of your thigh.

You laughed, he'd almost call it a devilish giggle as you pulled back. "I don't know what you're implying about me Dick Grayson…" You turned from him, looking over you shoulder. "But you don't get to seduce me out of going to the Gala…B needs us, remember?"

To hell with Bruce, he could survive one Gala without them. Dick stood, crowding up against your back. "Too late, temptress…You've already won." And you could feel that as he pressed against you.

He spun you round, and you saw the dark look in his blue eyes. One would think them black with how blown his pupils were. You shivered, grinning up at him. You didn't have time to react before he had you bouncing on the bed. Dick was on you in seconds, his hips slotting between you thighs perfectly.

"Now you get your reward…" He breathed against you lips, hands steadily sliding the dress up for easier access. His voice was dark, dangerous as he warned "But don't think it will come without consequences…"

[zepskies]

Hi! I would love to hear what Ben thinks of the reader's music and what HIS favorite music is. Just picturing a grumpy, old Ben grumbling about "music nowadays" 😂

Hey there, lovely Anon!

Ohohooo, what a great question. 😂 I too can imagine Mr. Grouch trying to understand modern music:

I briefly explored this in Part 5 of Break Me Down, when they're (playfully) arguing about music:

And you talked—about the old-ass TV shows he never got to see the end of, and the new music he hated. You’d enjoyed (gently) teasing him about being an old man who didn’t understand Cardi B when you played it on his phone. You suspected he didn’t quite understand how all the bells and whistles worked on an iPhone yet. (But he’d taken it back from you before you could text anyone.) “In my day, there was a little more fucking class,” he’d said. “Sinatra. Nat King Cole. Christ, the fucking Beatles.”  You’d rolled your eyes at that. You liked all those guys too, actually. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t bang out all the words to “Bodak Yellow” and “Please Me.”

😂 A little more fucking class indeed, Benjamin.

As a more general Soldier Boy (Ben) x Reader situation, I explored Ben vs. 90s music in this imagine: Taking Ben to a 90’s themed club.🕺🏻

A highlight from that one:

For a while he just sits at the bar with you while you catch up with your friends. You're so damn excited, he can tell. The inside of the club is interesting, he supposes, with dim lighting and a DJ on the stage with a very sophisticated looking setup that Ben finds wholly unfamiliar. The music, however, is ass so far. What the fuck is this, Hip Hop? Rap? R&B? He can't tell, and he doesn't know any of the songs. It sounds like a bunch of fucking whining. And don't get him started on whatever you call grunge.

But as for Ben's favorite music...

It's my headcanon that he personally identified with the likes of Frank Sinatra ("My Way"), Dean Martin, Bing Crosby, Mel Torme, Nat King Cole, etc. He definitely would've come into adulthood on that and sought to emulate their lifestyle, not just like their music.

Him coming up in the 40s, he probably would've (secretly) liked a bit of Doris Day and Ella Fitzgerald. (In BMD world, it would probably remind him of his mother.)

But there's also some edge to him. He would've embraced some "free love" to to speak lol, so getting through the 60s and 70s, I think he would've liked the Beatles, Rolling Stones, maybe some Bruce Springsteen, Billy Joel, and Aerosmith coming into the 80s.

Interestingly, from that scene in the Legend's penthouse we know he had Air Supply on in the background, so maybe he's secretly into some classic love songs from the 70s/80s. 😂 Maybe some Bee Gees, Spandau Ballet, stuff like that...

Though God forbid someone try to tease him about it.

Especially when he starts to dip into some of your music when you're not looking. 😏

[002yb]

i would love to hear any thoughts about the guys finding out damian’s paternity in the secretary au? how does everyone handle it? ps your writing is a refuge against all the canon typical jason and the fam angst and its so good to have a bit of cute jason centric goodness 🥰

When Bruce returns home from another late night at the office, the last thing he expects is to be confronted by what appears to be an intervention. Not an uncommon occurrence for this family, but definitely not appreciated given Bruce is already running late for patrol.

A patrol that Nightwing and Robin should have already gotten a start on, yet here they are. Dressed, ready, and yet still lingering for him.

Something dire must have happened. His only consolation is that Jason is safe. Bruce made sure of it, as he often does. Seeing Jason home. Leaving, only to double back and linger. Watching through a broken window and sheer curtains at a spill of golden light to catch one more glimpse of his darling boy.

Ah, it's most definitely an intervention.

To dawdle like he does, as often as he does — it's possible it hasn't been without consequence to his responsibilities. For as motivated and reinvigorated as he feels towards his cause now that Jason is returned to him, Bruce can't protect this city if he can't tear himself from Jason's side...

But also? Where better to stake himself than at the heart of this city?

"We were delayed at the office." Bruce defends himself like a child caught out and not the grown man he is, sweeping through the cave and towards his costume. "Given the hour, I chose to see Jason home safely."

No one says anything. Tim doesn't call Bruce out on the truths he stretches — how the only delay that kept them at WE was due to Bruce's insistence on having misplaced his keys and needing help finding them. Being distracted by playful ribbing and witty humor throughout; shared stories of Jason's misadventures in child care — forgotten diaper bags and missing shoes, a hat blown away on a breeze.

'Lost things have a way of turning up where they're needed.' Jason had said, content because that forgotten diaper bag helped a struggling mother that was down on her luck and the shoe Damian kicked off on a walk made a homeless man smile at memories of softer times and the hat became a nest for some birds—

'If we're lucky they make their way back to us.' Jason told him, with a firm pat to Bruce's breast pocket where his keys jingled together. And Bruce stood there, awestruck as he raised his hand. Fingers brushing over Jason's hand before Jason pulled away, smile wide and impish. And Bruce smiled back, head dipping to play at sheepish while really his chest was simply overfull with gratefulness.

Lucky, indeed.

Not so lucky is that his fortune only extended up until the point with this intervention. Even Alfred is here to badger him, it seems. It’s laughable, given the three of them would or have done the same as him. Hypocrites, Bruce thinks petulantly.

"Start your routes." Bruce calls to them, a hail mary to hopefully spare himself from whatever is coming. When no one budges, Bruce frowns. Sighs, "Unless there's something pressing?"

The question has everyone shifting their gaze away from him with uncertainty. Even their body language is closed off, though maybe their mirrored crossed arms are an attempt to self-soothe? Bruce's brows furrow. He turns his focus to Dick who meets his eye and Bruce's frown deepens at the wariness he finds there.

"What is it?" He prompts even as he turns to dress. A quick process for how often he's done it. Whatever intervention they have staged, whatever trouble has come their way — it will have to be resolved while they're on the move. It really is late.

And yet they continue to wait. It tests Bruce's patience, though when he starts to bristle, Alfred clears his throat and prompts him, "It would do you well to take a seat, Master Bruce."

Ah. Bruce shoots a fleeting glance at the Batmobile, gauging if he can make a break for it before his sons tackle him and force his compliance. As that was one of the points of a prior intervention, Bruce decides to sit. If only to prove a point.

When he's handed loose pages, Bruce looks to Tim for a summary. Their usual routine, only this time his partner is not forthcoming. Tim looks pointedly down at the pages before looking back to Bruce, a somberness to his expression that has Bruce giving the report his full attention.

The report being... a paternity test? For Damian.

Bruce scans it, pausing when he comes across the results. Doubling back and rereading it properly because oh.

In no uncertain terms: it's Bruce.

A fine tremble in his hand gives away his nerves. The report shakes in his hold, worsened when Bruce slouches forward to read the results again, again, again. He hides the lower half of his face with his hand, brow furrowed as he tries and fails to wrap his head around such extraordinary circumstances.

Everything falls away from him. There's static in his ears, beneath his skin. Being a father is of no consequence to him — he has three wonderful sons already, he would be so lucky to have another, it's just...

"I have a son..." His voice sounds far away to his own ears. Soft-eyed, breathless, he marvels, "with Jason."

He thinks of Jason's romanticized views of being lost — of going to where you're needed and can't shake that Jason was lost to him to find Damian. To bring him home.

Maybe Bruce's luck hasn't run out quiet yet, after all.

Silence trails Bruce's proclamation, followed in short order by Alfred turning away from him — the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. Tim follows suit, head tipped back and hands scrubbing down his face, muffling exasperated gibberish. And Dick, who Bruce watches most pointedly, balks.

"That's not what the test says," Dick bristles, "Absolutely not!"

===========

What's tough is that Bruce can't up and claim to Jason that Bruce is Damian's father, either. That would hardly go over well. Jason is so protective of Damian that Bruce would be put in the ground for overstepping with his unconsented for paternity test — the authorities wouldn't even have a chance at him.

But also? Bruce can't go on like he knows nothing. He wants to be involved in Damian's life. He wants to be a father with Jason.

So. Baby steps. Which Dick and Tim are so petulant about because it involves them covering for Batman's patrol one night. Meaning they can't hang out at the manor with Jason and Damian when they come by for dinner. This is about a kid and their father though, so Dick and Tim begrudgingly lay low (and are grumpy about it all the while).

But yes, Damian being icy with Bruce because he associates Bruce with being the one to always take Jason away. And Jason has explained it's work, but Damian is peeved regardless.

To everyone's surprise, Bruce focusing more on Damian than Jason?? With Bruce kneeling to be more at eye level with this boy. And telling Damian that he can come with Jason to work whenever he wants; it's okay.

Which Jason is !!! about because what? Boundaries, boss. Not that he doesn't appreciate it.

Bruce insists though because "he does keep Jason occupied more than he should" but low-key...it's an opportunity to spend more time with his son if Damian visits, so...

Just Bruce trying to be a good dad even if he can't openly be a dad ;U;

Something something Damian bonding with Dick more though and Bruce gets it, but like (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻

Extra odds and ends:

Going to the park together! And Bruce brings Ace and Damian adores him so much. The dog, not necessarily Bruce.

Just this sweet family walking together. With Damian holding the leash (that Bruce also holds on to) and ahhhhhh it's sweet

But also... the park is Dick and Damian's thing. So Bruce notices Damian looking around and questions it. And when Jason admits that he's looking for Dick, Bruce is so petulant and grumpy and jealous and ಠ_ಠ

Jason taking Bruce up on bringing Damian into the office one day. Because the assassin sitter got tied up on a job. Only there's an emergency with Tim so Jason has to attend to that and it's just Bruce and Damian.

And they probably sit across from one another at Bruce's desk and Bruce is all severe while Damian stares at him and clicks his tongue and insists on being difficult ahahahaha

Tim coming back with Jason later and both Bruce and Damian click their tongues at Tim for taking up Jason's attention and it's their first moment really connecting on something ahhhhhahaha

But yeah, the Talia reveal might come later and in a completely anticlimactic way. Where Bruce probably asks after Damian's mother and Jason casually name drops Talia. And Bruce is convinced it's a coincidence, but then Jason throws out the Al Ghul name and Bruce is ko'd, utterly o(-( because okay, he needs a minute.

==============

A big thank you for the sweet message, too! Sometimes I worry the way I write Jason is unlikable since my take on him is a little more soft/silly, so this was very assuring. ;/////;

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine meeting matt for the first time

The chaos had died down, collateral damage was low and the rest of your team were scattered around - some looking for civilians that needed help and others directing first responders. With hands on your hip, you took several deep breaths trying to maintain the energy balling inside you. The ability to manipulate energy from your surroundings and use it as a weapon of sorts, was physically draining after a while. This fight had been long and you had pushed past your limits, and now as things were settling down, so was your body.

Your eyes fluttered back and gravity did its thing; pulling you down to the ground into a pair of strong arms.

"Hang on," a man's voice sang into your ears; your head dipped back against the his forearm, his face blurred from your impaired vision. He helped you to your feet and walked you over to a concrete wall, short enough for you to take a seat. He sat next to you, hand on your back as he asked if you were okay.

"Yeah," you nodded, embarrassed. Holding a hand above your brow, you turned to him and recognized him from the fight. He was obviously a good guy, but a stranger; a friend of a friend that came to help. There had been no time for a proper introduction until now and even with his helmet covering the top of his face...you knew.

fucking knew he was another handsome superhero.

"Fuck," you exhaled, eyes blinking to restore your vision. When it fully recovered after a few blinks, you were right.

What you could see was gorgeous.

He laughed. "Take me out on a date first."

Getting up slowly, you faltered and he was quick to his feet, hands on your waist.

"Nope, nope," you exclaimed, attempting to walk away but he urged you back down. Feeling weak still, you obliged and sighed, giving him another look and he smiled in your direction. "See, I just can't," you laughed and he asked what you were talking about.

Turning to face him, you looked him up and down. "You look like you could wreck my life and enjoy doing it."

"I don't know about that," he laughed, but shrugged and held out his hand. You took it and introduced yourself, waiting for him to do the same. He smirked. "From one.." he pointed to himself than you, two heroes, vigilantes, the good guys. "...to another, can you keep my name hush hush?"

"So you're mysterious too, great, you're definitely going to screw me over..."

"Matt..." he chuckled and you took his hand again, giving him a firm shake. When your hands released, he asked if you were feeling better.

"Oh, don't pretend like you care," you teased and he grinned.

"Well, as the person who is going to wreck your whole like - at least let me buy you dinner tonight..."

His proposal sent waves down to the pit of your stomach and the thought of him pinning his body against yours - oh the possibilities, made your cheeks warm.

"Sure, Matthew - can I call you that?"

He nodded. "You can call me anything."

Patting him on the thigh, you stood up and the ground didn't feel dizzy. You looked around and saw Rogers discussing something with a few SHIELD agents; he caught your gaze and motioned you over.

"The boss is calling, but you have a cell phone somewhere in that getup?"

"Of course."

He reached for a pocket at his side and pulled out his phone, handing it over with a shit eating grin; you snatched it out of his hand and asked if you could text yourself from his number.

"You need to put your contact information in, so I can use the accessibility feature to call you - cause...you know, I'm blind."

"Right, I remember Bruce mentioning that," you saved your contact information and handed over the cellphone. Matt took it and smiled at you.

"I'll call you later then."

Staring at his bottom lip, your heart pounded and Matt's face perked up as if he could tell you were fawning over him like an animal in heat.

"I'll be waiting," you mused, reaching down for his hand. He gave your hand a little squeeze and you mentioned that you enjoyed a lighter dinner. "...especially when I expect to be wreck later on during the night."

"Duly noted," Matthew replied coolly and when you turned, walking away from him; he could hear the pounding of your heart and he couldn't help the smile growing from the corner of his mouth.

[br-uwu-cewayne]

Today I'm thinking about the big Wayne Birthday Bashes, like. He probably does a nice intimate family thing at home on the day off, but the night before is probably always some big Brucie Wayne party, so everyone can lose their shit at midnight screaming happy birthday and fireworks go off and yada yada yada.

Like basically the same as the big Wayne New Year's galas but less formal and even more drunk.

But basically the reason I'm thinking about this is like. I'm getting the warm fuzzies imagining like. Bruce is at the party already tired but still playing the part, looking around for WHERE the FUCK have his sons gone he needs SOMEONE to socialize with for a bit who's not a completely vapid socialite or slimy politician for a bit, and he's already played his "a reasonable amount of time for Brucie to want to talk to Commissioner Gordon" card.

And Alfred's just like hmmmnn sorry can't help you don't know where they went. So he's LOOKIN' but can find them. Then the event emcee gets on stage and things quiet down as he steps up to the mic and clears his throat.

"And now, a special announcement from-" [squints at cue card] "-the 'Official First Ward of Wayne' and 'Best Ass in Gotham-"

"More like the biggest ass!" Babs hollers with scornful humor from the sidelines somewhere amidst the giggles of tipsy partygoers. A few folks holler and whistle while others jokingly call for a recount.

"This is Nightwing slander and you know it!"

Bruce couldn't say for sure, but he's pretty certain that was Dick's own voice. He scans the crowd again, but to no avail.

He is beginning to regret having started the boys in those bright colors.

"-settle down, settle down! Ahem - today marks a most important occasion. Not just the birthday of our beloved Brucie-" Bruce plays to crowd, winking and waving as they clap and whistle for him now, making sure to keep every trace of his growing suspicion and concern from showing through. "-but also the FIRST of said birthdays in which our dear baby brother has FINALLY reached five full feet of height. As such, we are thrilled to announce a very special inaugural presentation - the very first traditional Wayne Family Father/Sons dance! If you would please, clear the ballroom floor. This... could get messy."

The crowd drifts to the sides of the room with scattered applause, a bit unsure but going with the flow. Bruce frowns, still seeing no trace of his boys, and whispers hurridly to Alfred from the corner of his mouth.

"I've... heard of father/daughter dances, but never father/s- wait, sons as in plural?"

Alfred shoots him a wry grin, but before there's even a chance for a response their are two broad hands smacking firmly into Bruce's chest and yanking him back - Dick and Jason, having used his confusion to successfully sneak up behind him, tugging him into a sturdy wooden chair. He's not even finished coughing from the impact before the world is tilting beneath him. Reflexively, he grabs onto the side edges of the seat as it lifts.

Dick, Jason, Tim... each of them grab a leg off the chair and hoist it up. With Bruce's weight, it pitches forward towards the left corner for just a moment as Damian slips into place - still a touch too short for cradling the remaining leg against his shoulders like the other boys, but his Robin training means even his extended grip is sturdy enough for their purposes.

"Alright, HIT IT boys!" Tim calls out, the group spurring into motion before Bruce can collect himself and demand to be put down. Various members of the waitstaff Alfred hired are suddenly ditching their serving trays for instruments. First, a slow, circling melody from a single Klezmer... then another joins... two more... it picks up speed... a fiddle... faster... the audience begins to clap in time, and before he can really even register what's happening Bruce is being and spun and dipped and almost thrown across the floor by his sons.

There's... a brief flash of memory. Foggy, the way things are when you're just a bit too young to fully recall. Some kind of family party... his mother's cousin. Uncle? Someone. everyone out on the dance floor... tiny Bruce, absolutely fascinated by what they were doing. His mother, exhausted after the event but still listening to him babble on about what he thought was so cool... still picking him up with a smile and throwing him around just the laughing man in the chair...

And now, it's his birthday. And he's the one laughing in the chair. And it's his family. His boys. Lifting him up. Spinning him around. He fills his heart swell almost to burst. Has to fight a sentimental tear from his eye.

Until, at least, he hears Jason holler "ALRIGHT! As agreed! First one to unseat him takes the whole kit and kaboodle!!!"

Oh ho ho. Alright then, boys. It's on.

[tiredofsatansbullshit]

AO3 Fic Rec List 1 - DC - Batfam

These are mostly (probably all) Jason Todd fics. Also, this is my first time doing something like this so sorry if there's any problems with formatting and stuff.

Homeward Bound by SpaceWall

Globe-trotting, League-fighting hero duo Black Swan and Red Hood are up for admission to the Justice League. If only Batman could figure out who they were.

This is an AU where Jason, Cassandra and Damian met in the League together. Jason still becomes Red Hood and Cass becomes Black Swan. They travel around the world fighting crime (but mostly take down the League).

2 Chapters, 12 074 Words, Complete.

You Don't Have To Stay by I_Have_To_Get_Off_This_Planet

Jason would very much appreciate it if everyone could leave him the fuck alone while he's dying. Except, not really.

Jason is sick and being his usual fanon angsty self, tells everyone to fuck off but Bruce and Dick are there for him.

1 Chapter, 2 277 Words, Complete.

How to warm up a Jason Todd by Harmonique

At this point, Jason is just attracted to Gotham's harbor

On patrol, Jason ends up taking a dip in the Gotham harbor. Luckily Dick and Bruce get to him in time and bring him back to the Manor, where the whole family is waiting to keep him warm.

1 Chapter, 1157 Words, Complete

You Came, You Called by Anduril_Narsil549

"I can't...can't do...two days. Don't make me," he plead. "Please, please don't make me do two days..."

"Two days of what?"

"Don't be...an idiot...Tim," he panted as the claws grabbed him again, clamoring to pull his mind down into the depths of agony worse than his body could throw at him. They dug deep, and a cry escaped his lips.

"Jason, two days of what?" the voice demanded again. But he didn't hear.

He could only see the glint of metal. Feel the shifting of soil through stinging fingers. Breathe more dark earth than air. Taste blood on his lips--

Jason is having flashbacks to being back in the warehouse in Ethiopia during a storm and accidentally calls Bruce in his panic instead of Tim. Bruce rushes to comfort him.

2 Chapters, 3 702 Words, Complete

Before I Go by Anduril_Narsil549

Tim gets a late night call from Jason and overhears words never meant for him.

An alternate possibility for You Came, You Called where Jason does actually call Tim. Tim rushes to Jason's safe house and decides the best thing to do would be to call Bruce.

2 Chapters, 4 862 Words, Complete.

Cold is the Night Without You Here by ace_ing_it

Originally, the cloak wasn’t a part of Batman’s ensemble. At least, the actual first costume didn’t have a cloak. But he’s rather happy that he ended up having one anyways, it was especially funny to him to hide something under his cloak and wait to see how long it took to have them notice.

He didn’t object to his kids hiding underneath it either.

Or: Three times Batman’s Robins hid under his cloak separately and one time they did together.

I cannot give a better description than that so yeah.

1 Chapter, 4 792 Words. Complete.

let me walk to the top of the big night sky by YouAreTheBrightest234 (TransLucas)

only on rare occasions does Batman get an emergency signal from Red Hood and when he does, it's never good.

Jason gets badly injured on patrol and Bruce rushes to get his son back to the BatCave

1 Chapter, 1 260 Words, Complete.

Dad, I'm Dying by CreamCheeseBagel

Jason’s chin droops to meet his chest. He’s going to go out with a whimper this time, not a bang.

Dad, I’m dying Jason thinks, mouth silently moving around the words. I thought I’d be okay dying alone. I’ve done it before. But I’m not, I’m really not.

‘Hood. I need to keep this line open. Status.’ It’s not even a question but a remark.

(Alternative ending added; Jason lives)

Jason is badly injured on patrol and makes his way to his apartment where he collapses on the floor. Unable to move much, he calls Bruce. First chapter has a more open/ambiguous ending but the second chapter shows Jason recovering in the Batcave.

2 Chapters, 1 881 Words, Complete.

[comicavalcade]

Submariner Summer 34

Ay Namor Nation, this is a big one! #SubmarinerSummer part 34, and we are doing one of THE comics of all time, Tales To Astonish #100: Let There Be Battle! After sharing the title for dozens of issues, we finally get the Astonish crossover of Namor vs. Hulk. Behold the cover!

Stan Lee is scribing this one himself, and lets us know our sense will be shattered. The great Marie Severin on pencils and Adkins on inks, Sam Rosen lettering. Title page has our Prince contemplating Hulk as he falls into a predicament, thinking of making him an ally

Namor recaps his predicament, being banished from his people after being falsely believed a traitor (thanks to Plunderer, and a shitty screen). But since he's matchless in the sea, and Hulk is Strongest One There Is (on land), and they're both outcasts...well, the logic is clear

So off Namor goes to make an ally and make the surface pay. Things go smoothly right away (/s), as the second he surfaces, someone shoots at him. 'Merica. Turns out, old foe the Puppet Master was in the middle of a heist, and now Namor has spoiled it.

This throws Puppet Master into a rage, but he soon stumbles on an idea...since he can't strike at Namor directly, how about using *Hulk* against Namor? So, one radioactive puppet later, Hulk bursts out and is sent to destroy Namor! Namor's plan of alliance is now sunk

From here? Its game on, as Namor and Hulk descend into all out battle on Miami beach. Let me tell you, if you're unfamiliar with Marie Severin, she is absolutely one of the Silver Age great artists. This woman was highly underrated, and this ish a shining example

Excuse me if I gush, but the scenes deftly show the two fighters' power, their figures bold yet fluid with the motion in the panels easy to follow. And there's plenty of motion as Namor seeks to take the battle to the air, then the water, and Hulk accidentally obliges

The oceanic recharge brings Namor careening back; IMPERIUS REX! A quick dip in a pool gives Namor a clear advantage but ends with a Hulk leap.

I'm just giving some highlights of the tussle, btw, there's a LOT of action packed into this 22-pager The military's called in, though they don't actually do anything as the titans clash; love how often Hulk or Namor burst out of the panels in this issue, too powerful to contain

And in one excellent page we get the obligatory moment to remind, Namor has his own code, his own honor, and foreign though it may be at any moment in the midst of destruction he might just come and save any or all of us; that's just how he rolls

Namor finally maneuvers Hulk into the sea, and from there...well, Hulk continually loses ground 😁

Hulk is also getting sick of the voice of the Puppet Master in his head and that isn't helping either, a distraction that isn't even properly feeding his anger

Namor launches a colossal assault using his speed and strength to toss Hulk around helplessly; that's right, mi gente, we have reached the "going in circles for the win" stage of Silver Age fights

And, this also spells doom for Puppet Master, as the giant waves wash his whole hideout away; double L for Puppet Master, double W for Namor, who doesn't even *know* he's defeated Puppet Master along with the Hulk

And yes, the fight is finally over; the last relentless assault has left Hulk washed up, and only Bruce Banner remains, unconscious on the sand. Namor doesn't know from Bruce Banner, though, and so confused he wanders back to the sea. So much for his plans for alliance against the surface

You all might have guess that I love this issue, so I am in no way impartial. But listen, this is peak superhero action. Nay, peak heroic epics: its Herakles vs Triton, Gilgamesh vs Enkidu, Jacob vs the Angel, Krishna vs Chanura. Lee and Severin were both firing on all cylinders

If you agree, feel free to let me know; if you don't, drop a line as well and let me where you think it falls short. We're about to come to a great transition for Namor (and Marvel) so things are about to shift, and I'm interested in where we're all at on Tales to Astonish

But we're not *quite* there yet, although we are at the beginning of something new, so NEXT we cover Tales to Astonish #101: ...And Evil Shall Beckon!

[baeddel]

i find that i read textbooks a lot slower, struggle with them more, and end up failing to complete my goals with them more often than i do anything else, like a paper or a book. why should that be the case when they're supposed to be teaching material?

here is one parsimonious reason: why do you read a textbook? it's because you don't know anything about the topic. you're a total beginner, so the topic is inherently harder to understand, you have less of a knowledge base for the things you learn to find their place in.

that's probably true. but i think there is another reason. here is my other reason: when you read a paper, you have a bunch of techniques that help you read a paper. first of all you can skim the paper and get the idea. that might be all you need to do. but if you decide it's worth doing you can scratch at it a little more. you might read the introduction and conclusion, for example. and then you get the idea of the argument, and you decide if you ever need to see the working out you can come back to it. but even if you read the whole thing from start to finish there are a lot of parts you're going to skip and say 'alright, i get the idea.'

with a book (or a thesis) all of this is true, but there are even more advantages: first of all, it has a table of contents at the start. if the chapters are titled correctly then you can get a very good idea what the whole book is about just looking at the chapters. here's a marvelous one, from Jennifer Liu's thesis the Problem of Philosophy in Classical Chinese Thought:

just the first handful of chapters. look at that! you get the problem right away: the term 'philosophy' has a specific origin, it's not clear how we can apply it across cultures, so we're going to look at how people from that culture translated that term and find an argument there. now you can just hop into 0.2.2 to see the ending if you don't have time to read the rest.

a table of contents that is less detailed but still useful, from Kenneth Clatterbaugh's the Causation Debate in Modern Philosophy 1637-1739:

if you took out the page numbers you could make this figure 1, 'timeline of the modern causation debate', and it acts as a useful point of reference if you want to dip in and out.

plus some books will have an index at the back so you can find particular terms easily and things like that. now look at my phonology textbook, Bruce Hayes' Introductory Phonology:

"More on Phonemes" and "Phonological Alternation II" are almost as helpful as "Features." but what are you going to call them? you can find better ones than this, but sometimes this is the best you can do. you're not making an argument, you're teaching information, so the Phonetics chapter is just the Phonetics chapter. it has all the Phonetics stuff thats in the book. go read it.

so basically it's impossible to know what shortcuts to take with a textbook when you're self-studying. classes that use textbooks (which i can snoop on via things like MIT Open Courseware, or when students i talk to show me their class syllabus—thanks girl reading this!) will generally call out a handful of specific chapters or even just a couple of pages and tell you to read those. the teacher will frame the textbook content with the discussion in class and only give you the important parts to read. they can do that becuase they already know the textbook. when you're reading on your own you can't possibly know which parts are going to be useful yet, so you just have to read it front to back. which is hard, boring, and not usually worth doing, so i never end up sticking with them.

[nonagesimus]

Birthday Prompt 2 - Jason giving Dick a pep talk

Prompted by @dickgraysonwayne

Jason was all for the idea of taking space.

In a family chock full of busybodies with no social skills it was practically a survival strategy. Especially given he was liable to dip at the drop of a hat and spend months out of Gotham with no word, he really wasn’t going to judge anyone for being a tad MIA.

Except.

There were limits, y’know?

Dick needing a break after playing Bat for a week? Understandable. Dick fully dropping off the face of the earth and not answering texts after? Less understandable.

Maybe “dropping off the face the earth” was a little overdramatic. Dick was in Blüdhaven and they knew he was in Blüdhaven. It wasn’t unusual for him to ask to be put on emergency alerts only when he’d spent time away from the city. He just usually stayed just as active vis-á-vis group chats, social calls, and that kind of a thing. Not dead silent while Damian swung around Gotham like the world’s tiniest storm cloud. And as far as Damian went, the mood had to be bad to register above baseline.

So, Jason took a trip north.

Blüdhaven was as grey and greasy as ever. It didn't take long to find a spot Jason knew was on Nightwing's regular patrol route and post up. From then it was just patience.

"Hood." Dick hadn't made a sound on the approach. If Jason hadn't caught the barest glimpse of electric blue on an adjacent rooftop, he wouldn't have seen him coming at all. "Did you need something?"

"I can't drop in to say hi?" Jason asked, archly.

"Did you?"

"Immediately calling the bluff," he drawled. "Wow, you really are in a bad mood."

Dick folded his arms, staring with a flat look on his face. Jason turned to mirror him. The helmet gave him the advantage when it came to a blank facade. The only trial would be waiting his brother out. He sank his weight into his heels, watched the shift of Dick's jaw as he clearly made the same considerations.

In Jason's defence, Dick had a lot more practice, so it wasn't a big surprise who won.

"What's going on?" he said, baldly. "Because you left Gotham like you were on fire, and the brat has been acting like someone shaved his cat ever since. Spill."

"Shaved his cat?" Dick asked, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"I don't know, it sounded like the kind of thing that would piss him off," he said. "That's not an answer."

"Why did something have to happen?" Dick shot back.

"You should know from being on the other side of it that strategy doesn't work," Jason said. "You want me to go ask Damian?"

"No," Dick said. Without elaborating.

Jason pulled his helmet off so he could better fix him with an unimpressed look.

"It's not a big deal," he amended. "I'll—I'll talk to Damian, it's fine."

"That's still not answering my question, Big Bird," Jason said. "Come on, now."

"Yeah." Dick's shoulders dropped. He took a few steps to the edge of the roof and then sat down, dangling his feet over the edge. “We had a bit of a fight the last night before B was due back, that's all."

"'Bit of a fight' is a regular conversation with that kid," Jason said.

"It was—" Dick shook his head. "Stupid. It was so stupid. We were chasing down Two Face, and he went charging in without waiting for me, and he didn't even get tagged, but I saw a bullet miss his head by like two inches and I just—"

"Freaked?" Jason said.

"Yeah." Dick shook his head. "Understatement. I did the full threaten to take him off patrol, and then he got furious, and he wouldn't talk to me before Bruce got back and I had to come home for work, and I spent the whole ride home thinking about how bad I fucked that up, and I didn't even get to apologise. So I fucked up as a brother to you, and I fucked up as a brother to Tim, and now I'm fucking up with Damian, it feels like I'm turning into Bruce—"

"Bullshit." Jason broke in before the tirade could get any more speed. Stomped over and sat down next to him, grumbling, “I can’t believe you’re gonna make me say nice things about you.”

Dick broke off, staring at Jason with eyes that were wide even through the domino lenses.

"I don't know where you got the impression that you weren't allowed to make any mistakes ever," Jason continued, looking out into the city. “And I don't know what happened between you and Tim, it's not like I was around, but when you say you fucked up with me, what are you talking about?"

Dick looked at him like it should have been obvious.

Which, Jason knew he'd talked a lot of shit over the years, but still.

"Lay it out for me," he said. At the very least it'd be a distraction from whatever Dick had said to Damian.

"I was never there for you," Dick said. "And I was an asshole about you being Robin, and I was mad at Bruce and I took it out on you—"

"You are so full of shit," Jason said.

Dick's jaw snapped shut in surprise.

"You weren't around much because you lived in a different city," he pointed out. "You were mad at me about Robin for a total of like five minutes, and yeah, you were mad at Bruce, but you used to come and hang out with me anyway, I—" He stopped to let out a long breath. "I know when I first got back, I was a real asshole about it, but I was being an asshole about everything back then."

"That doesn't mean you weren't telling the truth," Dick said, softly. He looked a little overwhelmed, when Jason managed a glance out of the corner of his eye.

"Ok, so I'm telling you now, I was just being a shithead," Jason said. "And if you overreacted with Damian, you already know it and want to apologise, so you're definitely not turning into Bruce." He had to force the words out, uncomfortable with how genuine they felt. "You're a good brother, Dick."

The overwhelmed look on Dick’s face broke into a wobbly smile. “Ok.”

Then Jason got about three seconds warning as the smile firmed up before Dick fully flopped over into him, draping over his shoulders, and pinching his cheek.

“What a good speech. Who knew you had that in you, Little Wing, I’m so proud.”

“Oh my god, get off,” Jason said, shoving ineffectually at Dick’s ribs. “If I’m not allowed to hide from vulnerability by being grumpy, you’re not allowed to do it with this.”

“I let you be grumpy instead of vulnerable all the time,” Dick said, but he did stop tugging at Jason’s cheek and settled into a regular hug. “I am proud of you, though.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jason said. He stopped trying to shove Dick off, though.

“Yeah, ok.”

[theycallme-thejackal]

I need to see that blue corset

Pairing: Lenny Bruce & Midge Maisel Rated T

Part 1 | Part 2

He takes her to a restaurant on the Upper West Side.

It's nice. The food is good, the conversation better, and the nerves Midge felt earlier disappear the moment he cracks a joke.

Lenny slips his jacket over her shoulders as they leave, and he lights a cigarette as they head back toward Riverside Drive. It's close enough for her to walk in heels, but a long enough walk for her nerves to creep back up on her.

Her parents are visiting Noah and Astrid, and the kids are with Joel and Mei, getting to spend some time with their new baby sister, which means her apartment is empty.

She tries to quash her anxiety, but it's too late because Lenny's looking at her in concern. "What's going on?" He asks quietly as he taps off the ash and leans against her building.

Midge considers brushing it off. Saying nothing and just inviting him in. Or saying goodnight right here, sending him home without showing him the blue corset or what's underneath.

But he's looking at her earnestly, and his stopping here instead of just walking into the building reminds her that as dangerous as people think Lenny Bruce is, he makes her feel safe. He makes her feel seen.

"You can't laugh," she tells him.

A smirk finds his lips. "Doesn't that go against the very, very funny rule? I did make a promise, after all," he reminds her.

She grins slowly in remembrance. "You did. But just...not right now," she breathes. He nods slowly, his smile fading. She takes a deep breath and admits, "I'm nervous."

He quirks a brow. "You're nervous?"

"Yes."

"Because of me?"

"Because I put on a very blue corset in the hopes that we would do very blue things tonight, but..." She inhales deeply and sighs.

"Midge." He reaches for her, running his hand down her arm before tangling their fingers together. "We don't have to. We can say goodnight now and save very blue things for another night."

"No, we're going to," she insists, and he stifles a chuckle, making her laugh in the process. "I'm just...god, this is so silly," she groans.

His thumb grazes her knuckles as he waits for her to continue. "I'm worried I won't - that I'm not..." His brow lifts in question. "I've only had sex with a handful of people, and I want this to be good for you."

He looks confused at that. "And you're worried it won't be?"

"Yes," she admits. "I'm very confident for the most part about my performance, but then the men I've had sex with weren't that sexually experienced - "

"Are you calling me a tramp?" He teases.

"Lenny..." She tilts her head, mildly exasperated.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, dropping the cigarette and squishing it beneath his shoe.

"I'm worried I won't live up to your expectations," she confesses as she looks down at their shoes.

Lenny lifts her chin with his now free hand, and she meets his gaze nervously. "You know, the problem with having a big, beautiful brain like yours is that it's really easy to overthink things."

She huffs. "That's what Imogene said."

"Midge, sex with you is good - fantastic, actually - because it's you," he explains. "Because I'm crazy about you. The only expectation I have is for you to enjoy it."

She feels her heart in her throat. "No one's ever...cared about me like that - about my needs, I mean."

Lenny scoffs, shaking his head. "I suspected your ex was a schmuck, and you just confirmed it," he drawls, taking a step closer and cupping her neck with his hand. "I like making you feel good," he says, his voice lowering as he adds, “and nothing has ever turned me on as much as the sound of you screaming my name.” The fluttering of her heart moves southward, taking up residence beneath her skirt and making her flush all over with desire.

He dips his head and kisses her softly, and that desire turns into a need. She curls her fingers around his lapel and pulls him closer, deepening the kiss with no resistance on his part. They separate only when the need for air becomes too great, and she opens her eyes to find him gazing down at her in a familiar way.

A slow smile creeps onto her lips. “You want to come upstairs?”

“Well, I do need to see that blue corset,” he replies with a smirk.