Jason: "You go to therapy?"
Dick, frowning: "Hello Jason, how was your day?"
Jason: "Deflection something they're teaching you?"
Dick, groaning: "Yes, fine I go to therapy, you could try it."
Jason: "Who the fuck changes therapists every two weeks?"
Dick, rolling his eyes: "Well gee, someone with a lot of problems and a lot of secrets. Will that be all today officer, or should I get a lawyer? Jay?" *room is empty, window open* "Good talk."
Later that evening...
Dick, breaking into a corrupt, psychotic therapist's office and gathering evidence, dumping his own aliases notes, and records.
*light creak and shuffling*
Dick, already standing up with a weapon in hand: "Jesus fucking Christ Jason!"
Jason: "I knew the therapy thing was bullshit."
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What if. What if. What if one of the recordings we hear. Is one of Gertrude’s tapes before the institute burned down. What then.
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"boop war" this and "tumblr pvp" that. are we not all bonding? have you not met people you would have never heard of? do you not look at the url of the stranger who booped you and think wow, i just met someone who thought of me, even if its just for a boop, before hitting the boop button on them as well? do you not gain joy from this? even in the heat of battle, our humanity shows itself. we glance into the eyes of an opponent who holds our gaze ever so slightly too long for someone who's supposed to be an unfeeling soldier and we think to ourselves i'll miss you, stranger before we inflict a killing blow. the boops show us we're human
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Creative slump? No, no. Creative frenzy. Too many idea, not enough time, not enough energy. It's too much, I do nothing.
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people who remove gale's tiny gray strands of hair, your taste is so uncultured. I am sorry for you. same goes for the people who remove astarion's laugh lines
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I think it would be funny, if Bruce was scrolling through the Gotham Gazette in his downtime and stumbled upon some outrageous, unhinged article on some moronic socialite's recent weekend activities.
"What the fuck Alfred?" Bruce demanded, throwing the article onto the table.
"One text, Master Bruce," Alfred said calmly, stirring his tea. "One singular message to let me know you'd survived, would that have been so hard?"
"You know I have to pretend this really happened right?" Bruce dragged his hands down his face. "This is insane even for Bruce Wayne--"
"I figured your subsequent stint in rehab would allow time for recovery, or for me to explain your sudden death," Alfred said icily.
Bruce's phone buzzed, flooding with messages. "Oh look, now it starts. I'm firing whoever on the PR team allowed this to happen, this is so far beyond--"
"I overruled them." Alfred sipped the tea.
"You--" Bruce breathed in and out slowly, loosening his fists. "In the future, I will try to get a message out."
"Very good sir."
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[background fanart credit to @cute-electrocute]
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Annabeth was just trying to be 12 and banter with her new friend that she totally doesn’t have a crush on and he fucking COLLAPSES ON HER
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