#Tim you brilliant fucker

[brucewaynehater101]

Do you think after BruceQuest the bat kids + Oracle and Alfred (maybe or maybe not Batman)

all but blatantly cut contact with the Justice League?

Even if Batman forgives them for leaving him for dead even with all the evidence in front of them, they've still shown themselves wildly unreliable to even their own members

Unless the Justice League forces themselves into a Bat's conflict or other situation or the bats genuinely have no other option

Bats lean towards each other for help, next best thing is Young Justice or other heroes of their generation, and as last resorts, mercenaries or villains, maybe even ex-LOA members

The Justice league (including Batman if he sticks with em) are the last last resort and are the last people to learn of Bat-involved incidents, if at all

Maybe rogues outside of Ra's learns what BruceQuest was, how it ruined Red Robin's reputation irreparably and uses it to annihilate the League's PR by showing the truth to the world?

I know Mr Lex Luthor would lap that shit up

Especially if Batman is still on good terms yet Red Robin is still dealing with the aftermath years later

Everyone is pulling their hair out because Lex is doing an objectively good thing for the wrong reason and when his villainy is toppled again—

Red Robin isn't going to live his life like his repaired reputation is gonna last

Ooh. How would the Bats react to the JL post BruceQuest?

Cass, Steph, Duke, and Jason do not have a relationship or rely on the JL. Jason probably is already upset at the JL for a variety of reasons. All that would change if the batfam is Team Tim would be those batkids being colder to the JL. Maybe they also pull off pranks.

In the end, those Batkids would be the equivalent of hearing your sibling talking about their toxic workplace and hating those fuckers (who you rarely see/interact with) on principle.

For Damian? It's a toss-up. It depends on how he views Tim and the JL. If Damian wants to become Batman, he might see the JL as a necessary step for that. He might need to have several conversations with various family members and his friends (like Colin and Jon) to understand his own position and thoughts on the JL.

For Babs, I hc she helped them a lot with their systems and other work. She probably feels guilty about Tim (not believing/supporting him and his traumatizing trip he did alone). If she was also on Team Tim, she would pass all system management to Vic and maintain a slightly frosty professional distance from them. Her Birds of Prey would become aware that she helps them, but she only assists the JL in dire circumstances.

Dick would have mixed feelings about it. He kind of told other heroes that Tim wasn't to be trusted and that he was having a mental breakdown due to grief. Now, what they did with that information is not Dick's fault. They should have supported the teenager and understood that Dick was also crumbling under his grief/responsibilities. So, Dick feels conflicted. He wants to make it up to Tim, though, and probably maintains a more professional distance from JL.

Alfred is also guilty of not being there for Tim when he needed help and care. However, I like to imagine he makes very pointed comments at JL members when they visit for their direct actions in that situation.

I do think that the batkids join together to mutually say "fuck you" to the JL, but in their own ways.

Batman/Bruce is iffy. On one hand, people like to use the BruceQuest as Bruce's kick in the pants to be a better father. On the other hand, he does his whole Batman Inc shit and is in Gotham less. So, it depends on how you picture him dealing with that trauma and his relationships with his family. If he's doing the less local Batman stuff, then he's probably more with the JL (and thus not on his kids' side).

The Lex Luthor theory you have going on? Brilliant 👏

[ev-arrested]

I do not know who to blame for this. It could’ve been Tom King, it could’ve been Tim Seeley, and it could have been Mikel Janin. But when I find the mother fucker who’s GENUINELY BRILLIANT IDEA IT WAS TO DRAW DICK GRAYSON HOLDING A GUN IN HALF THE GRAYSON COMIC COVERS

AND THEN DIDN’T HAVE HIM USE A GUN IN THE ENTIRE COMIC, NOT EVEN ONCE, I WILL BE KILLING THEM

YOU GAVE THE FIRST BOY WONDER, SON OF BATMAN, THE MAN WHO DOESN’T KILL, A TOOL THAT IS EXCLUSIVELY USED TO KILL, AND YOU DIDN’T

DO ANYTHING WITH THAT? NO?

Tom. Tim. Mikel. Why did fanfiction have to elaborate on this idea for you. Why.

Ugh. I hate that this is my favorite comic.

[dairy-farmer]

I sneak back in~☆ with more of my Ideas~☆ tis me Again~

You know what's GREAT? Along with all that villian tech and magic? Canonical Multiverse. Oh my, oh my~ Such OPTIONS we have todaaaay~ >:Dc

Because? Is it really YOUR son? If he's from a different reality, has a different history, you didn't raise him, and you technically met yesterday? Same name, face, and dna... but? IS THAT YOUR SON, BATMAN?

Or is that an ethically sourced Tim Puss? Or other bits. We ain't judging, Multiverse is large and in some of those you're sentient fish! Go nuts! Just be respectful. Not on the dinner table ffs.

And! In the inevitable Bat Adventures of Various Bat Peoples(tm)? They are GOING to cross realities! Some times you go to their's, some times they come to you. Sometimes it's your hypothetical great×5 Grandbaby with a STILL alive Ra's AL Ghul. Sometimes a Robot. Occasionally they are Evil(tm).

But! Do? You? Fuck?

CAN you? These are the questions! An ethical debate for the ages! Tim says? A Strong Maybe! What is he working with, here? *various outraged noises from his family* WHAT, they aren't HIS family! It's not like he'd sleep with YOU guys. *various conflicted noises*

Like? Clearly not, if they're Evil. Or like... physically incompatible... Or the world needs saving? He DOES have his priorities straight. But like.... Strong Maybe!

But you know what that Tim has? Thousands of other NEARLY identical versions of him. Spanning the Multiverse. All juuuuust slightly off in one way or another. Different choice here. Breakfast was skipped there. Likes tea instead of energy drinks yonder. AND? All have that "someone should probably have been supervising me" Feral spark~

Tim gets Horny. Maybe he and his team pulled a successful mission. Thwarted a Multiversal threat. Wooo! We're young and unsupervised! Beer! Pizza! Making out! WITH EACH OTHER! Thank God we're not dead!!!

But thing is? Tim is a horny drunk. He is... mostly unaware of this. It's apparently just a beer thing. He doesn't like the taste so he's never really drunk them. He's giggly. Wants to fuck. Kon is already asleep. Sad face. Wait.... WAIT! He has a BRILLIANT Idea! He stumbles to his feet. To his room. Ah HA! His "I'm Looooonely~ 🥺" Sexy Photos! Perfect.

He stumbles back. Digs out the Multiverse device. His drunk little mind not stopping to consider this might be a PHENOMENALLY stupid idea. After all... His Kon asleep. Other Kon's not maybe? Sexy sex for Timmy. Mmmm, Sex. His logic, is of course, FLAWLESS. He's gonna do it!

He inputs his photos as an info package, restricts to humanoid realities, clarifies "Evil guys, DNI" because OBVIOUSLY they will honor that, and recognize they are in fact Evil, instead of Misunderstood Heros. Then adds he would like to fuck, Multiverse tech obviously required, then to REALLY seal the deal a saucy " ;) ".

It's PERFECT. He's a GENIUS. Gonna... gonna get SO LAID. He hits send. Goes to get ready for Other Kon. Forgets, gets himself off, and goes to sleep.

DOESN'T REMEMBER TO TELL ANYONE.

It goes EXACTLY as you think it does. They get fucking INVADED by randos. All of whom are thirsting for Batman's son. Many of whom ARE Batman. Some are Kon. Some Superman. There are alternative Tim's. Apparently Go Fuck Yourself is the hot new craze. Tim is super, mega, ULTRA grounded.

But it's also damn near impossible to prevent Batmen from just... stepping into whatever room he's in. From their own reality. Bruce is at his wits end. The fuckers keep fucking and trying to carry off his baby boy. He doesn't CARE if you lost your own! Or never had one! Or yours hates you! Or WHAT! UNHAND THE TIM SON! *extreme violence*

And Dick? Inches from a nervous break down. All these PERVERTS keep coming to MOLEST his brother! Including versions of HIM! Selfs! How COULD YOU!? You don't even plan to ROMANCE him! No dinner or dances or romantic dates! Just fuck him on the floor and stuff a baby in him! *incredible violence* *somewhere... Deathstroke feels weirdly thrilled... huh*

Both Jason and Damian of course are LEARNING some stuff about themselves. Mostly from beating Alt-Selfes off with whatever on hand. Damian especially is having A Time of it. How DARE himselfs make him Realize Drake Is Hot! You magnificent BASTARDS!

Jason is hearing a lot of Husband this and Babyboy that and.... you... you KINKY MOFO with your TENDER EMOTIONS need to cut this shit RIGHT OUT! So help him he will shoot you! RIGHT IN THE DICK.

And of course Kon was all *sees like a bazillion of himself show up when Tim Puss was offered* Yeah this Tracks. I understand completely. *Sees CLARKS showing up* *slow head turn of Death towards his Clark* .....Something you wanna tell me? :) Clark? :)

Lois standing on his other side, who ALSO did the Head Turn: Yeah, honey :) Something you need to get off your chest? :)

Clark, innocent but still cold sweating : Please remember that they are probably Evil. I have a LOT of messed up Alternative Selfs out there. Love you, honey. And I would NEVER.

Just? The unending parade of Multiverse Booty calls? Showing and rocking Timmy's world before he can get a word in edgewise? This poor Tim has already been caught like five times this week and it's only Wednesday? Every chases them off... but poof! New one! Fucked again! Nearly carried off while fucked out and drooling, AGAIN! The best minds on the planet scrambling to fix Timmy's drunk booty call!

He can't patrol, can barely get work down, barely has time to SLEEP. Has woken UP to being fucked by HIMSELF. And a Kon. AND three separate Bruce's. Sometimes multiples show up! Sometimes they SHARE!

Do you have ANY idea how hard it is to argue with men lovingly holding you as they make you orgasm stupid? Hard! Tim keeps LOSING! He can't even walk straight. He's GOO. Fucked out, cum stuffed, GOO.

Dear God his birth control better work or he is DEFINITELY pregnant at this point.

And? In the chaos? Tell me there isn't the chance that his actual fam don't... consider it. With so many versions of themselves popping in and out? Just add then remove an alteration to their costume... no one but them would ever know.

Just? Imagine the chaos~~☆

"ethically sourced Tim Puss" 😭😭😭😭😭 that's the funniest line i've ever read!!! and yessssss!!!!!!!!! this idea!!!!! i love it so much!!!!!!! i've absolutely mused the thought of it before!!! the idea that bruce uses the 'it's not technically incest if it's not MY tim' loophole!!!!!

tim being both a horny and stupid little drunk is so good!!! he definitely has 'lonely night' photos of himself in nothing but tiny little seee through panties and underwear or in nothing but socks and lip gloss. he sends them to kon when he's horny and wants to fuck and now he's using a multiverse outfitted computer to mass send out an email from his dimension with attatched photos like he's a pop ad from a porn site 'like his tits? fuck him today!'

the email will be easily traceable to his dimension to any kon with dimensional tech which is what tim banks on while drunk. but then tim stumbles away and forgets about his photo ladden email and open invitation to fuck. he manages to make it to his room and sloppily stuffs a few fingers into his dripping pussy and clumsily rubs at his clit until his toes are curling and he manges to drunkenly cum. it's not long before he passes out from the combination of alcohol and the bit of satisfaction from masturbating.

in the morning tim's hangover pounds against his head along with the intruder alert alarm which cuts out mere seconds after starting. it's not until he hears his bedroom door sliding open that he looks up to see kon in uniform standing at his doorway and staring at him.

tim's in a simple tshirt and no panties with his legs spread on his messy bed. kon is in full armor though...one of his older suits with the blue accents for some reason.

he's also staring at tim pretty heavily. in the sort of way he's very familiar with because tim can see that heady desire in kon's eyes and knows what's next.

the rest of the titans, kon included, find tim in his room getting wonderfully fucked by his not-kon(?).

thankfully tim gets to cum before they kick that superboy out. they brief tim about how the justice league, batcave, and other hero teams have reported disturbances and anomalies typically seen with dimensional travel and given that the titans just finished kicking some multiverse butt they should probably prepare for another...attack.

only...it seemed like that dimensional traveler had other ideas.

they go to that dimensional laptop they confiscated and very quickly find tim's original email because they are receiving hundreds of interested replies.

it's a hellish week for everyone and tim has absolutely been scolded and reprimanded numerous times. usually after each near kidnapping is avoid because tim keeps getting tracked down and fucked by different versions of horny kons, other tim's, TONS of batmen, nightwing, redhood, and robins.

other bats are typically the ones behind the kidnapping attempts. one nightwing confessed to tim while pumping his cock into tim's poor little hole that his tim hasn't spoken him in years and this was the only chance he'd ever get to forage some connection and feel tim's touch again. red hood is apparently lonely because his 'wife' is away on a space mission and those photos were so teasing and pushed him over the edge. damian apparently wants to know what teenage tim's pussy feels like. but bruce....oh bruce.

poor bruce is so lonely and tortured by the attraction he feels for his son. and then comes tim's pictures. such temptation. such willingness to be fucked by anyone and anything including his father in a different dimension and all of them have problems with their tims.

there are no tims in their dimension, they had a falling out with their tims and don't talk anymore, or their tim has passed away and left them with these horribly compex unresolved feelings and its only through fucking tim that they'll be able to finally move on with their lives.

of course some of those batmen aren't satisfied with the one time deal and attempt to abduct tim who is all woozy and half passed out from orgasms through a portal to their home dimensions.

it's a very difficult week. made more difficult by the fact that tim is clearly a willing engager with many of these different dimensional travelers invading for some pussy.

every single one of the bats is desperate to get this all fixed. the only other person aside from them who wants this all to go away is clark whose marriage and relationship with his sort of clone-son is now on the rocks because more than a few alternate supermen have shown up looking to answer tim's email and fuck his womb full of kryptonian cum. one of them even dug clark's hole even deeper by mentioning how he's curious to see if this tim drake's womb will be just as receptive to kryptonian seed as his own.

and he said it in FRONT of both kon and lois who are now both very angry with clark is so very innocent and he swears that he's never once thought of sweet little tim like that!!! in fact clark was pretty sure tim was the only one of the bats and one of the few capes that genuinely disliked him!!!!!

the fact that tim doesn't blatently reject the superman that whistle and fly past the action, their suits bulging with their erections does nothing to help clark's case.

truly if there is any victim in this entire case-aside from tim's family who are currently in the crisis working the concept of fucking tim out of their system by actually fucking tim- it is clark.

poor sweet clark who, genuinely, has done nothing wrong the entire time.

[bioodorange]

||The Pastas At The Beach||

this was originally like an entirely different post but ehhh this ways better!

disclaimer Im setting this like, at a beach with a boardwalk and such next too it? Public beach, small time vacationing!

and that they conviently like..pass as human

I hope you guys enjoy!! remember too check out my announcement board!

taglist: @frozensriracha @creepy-bi-day @capricornartistsstuff @krayolacolor

Jeff the Killer

Jeff doesn't really do much at the beach

The salt water irritates his skin and he burns easily, doesn't want too deal with it

Spends most of his time asleep

Hogs all the damn towels by sprawling out all over all of them

Gets sand over everything that they brought with them

Forgets how wind works and it gets everywhere

When its time for some of em too go get food, he always fucking goes

Wants too walk around and do something, and maybe not get blamed for all the fucking sand when everyone sits back down

He wears one of those like protective long sleeved shirts? and red swim trunks that are just somewhat obnoxiously bright

While getting the food he has a brilliant idea

Befriends the fucking seagulls

Lures them back too their umbrellas and just vibes with his bird army

atleast he's not alone anymore?

Ben Drowned

first off I know like he doesn't go swimming

but imagine if he did

his fucking goggles get filled up with blood

gets weird ass tan lines from the blood on his face like, when he's not swimming

has too wear the goggles when he puts on sunscreen-

ok ok thats it

fucker wears like mountain dew swim trunks

and those arm floatie things despite not going anywhere near the water

He tries too sit around Jeff but that gets boring fast-

Just walks the fuck off without telling anyone, on a journey for adventure

Will spend literal hours sitting underneath the boardwalk until someone finds him

After that they get him like one of thise beach toy kit things

Sally's nice enough too fill the bucket with water too, so they can make sand castles and stuff

She walks along the shore line with him, gets pretty shells too

Also if Ben were too go in the water

He's a fucking shark magnet with all that blood-

But don't tell him that, he won't come back too the beach

Ticci Toby

Toby is very excited too go to the beach

He didn't get out much as a kid

Siked as hell too get in the water

Drops his stuff off as soon as possible and runs right into the water

And thats when he realizes he can't fucking swim

Awkwardly flaps his arms around until a wave moves him along too back where he can stand

Everyones kinda confused when he comes back like "?? You were so excited, what happened?"

"I can't swim :(("

Cody volunteers to teach him right away, like the great brother he is

The thing is Cody is a horrible fucking teacher

Another few minutes of Toby getting owned by some waves and Cody just screaming stuff like

"Use your arms Toby- no not like that how I showed you- no I'm not going too help how are you supposed to learn-"

That's when Kate drags him back too shore and Doby and Brian teach him instead

In a bit he learns and ends up having a lot of fun

I feel like Toby would really like boogie boarding?

A lot easier then surfing but still a good time

Also they have too tie a red scarf around his arm so they don't loose his ass in a crowd, or in the water

Third Base

so far, Doby's the only one on this list who actually came prepared

I feel like he'd use one of those face lotions that has SPF 30 in it already?

Smart enough so he doesn't have too smear sun screen around his face, can just use the spray stuff and get going

Also has shoes and sunglasses too go with each like swimsuit/outfit he brings

Mans is put together

Really likes collecting shells and stuff

Walks with Sally, shows her how too find them

Wakes up kinda early as it is? So its easy for him too go too the beach early and find the shells before the tide pulls them back out

It's one of his favorite times, actually

The suns just rising, a few shops are opening, only a handful of people are on the beach

Does it everyday as his "alone time" before everyone else wakes up

Spends most of his time with everyone kinda relaxing?

I can see him really liking those beach volleyball games

Or just playing frizbee in the shallow water!

Really, really enjoys making sand castles

Builds a moat and everything so it stays up when the waves start coming closer

X-Virus

Cody, another kid who never got much beach expierence

But acts like he did

Buys one of those waterproof, phone lanyard things

Forgets too fucking close it properly

Doesn't have the first idea of what seagulls are like

"Oh come on buys its fine-" gets fucking owned for his cheesestick

Lowkey scared of them after that

Refuses too eat on the beach after that

Sits with ben under the board walk and curls around his chips

Spends most of his time in the water

Wants too see how far he can go before the lifegaurd calls him back

Finds it funny as shit too just slowly go deeper while grinning at them

Until a wave slaps him in the back of the head

And then he gets scared of the deepwater too

After he looses Swimming Coach privellages gets really fucking salty and sulks on the beach

Kate takes pity on him and walks around the boardwalk with him

But he also didn't know you have too reapply sunscreen after you go swimming

Gets really really bad sunburn

Jeff, Ben and Toby take turns slapping it whenever he gets too cocky

Masky

This is gonna be a Dad Tim one, fight me

Really has no idea what the fuck is going on, but still manages too keep everyone together?

Tells the same story, atleast twice a day, about the killer wave that almost took his shorts off

Gets in fights with seagulls whenever they get realitively close too the group

Also buys one of those crappy beach wagon things too put their stuff in

Buys a mug and cheesy beer koozie

Doesn't enjoy the beach that much but gets excited too go?

Ends up sitting down for most of the time unless he gets dragged on walks

Might just kinda walk until the water is at his knees and just kinda stand there, and nod a little

Giving mother nature his approval

He takes Sally out and holds onto her stomach, lifts her up over the waves whenever they come

Asks her what she can see, before he drops her back down

Tries it with Ben, gets kicked in the gut-

Favorite time is when it's dark and they go

Not for a long time, just a few minutes too walk along the shore before it gets dark

Hoodie

Designated photographer

Is supposed too be taking photos but mostly gets footage of the stupid shit that happens

Like Jeff not being able too figure out the dishwasher or Clockwork wrestling with her dresser where only half the drawers worked

Just kinda sits back and watches things go up in flames

He's the designated like playlist guy too? On the drive over, whenever he got bored just

"Hey what song should I play?"

And watches chaos ensue

His vacation is watching everyone else have a bad time

Makes up for it though, saves them a shit ton of money by making dinner every night.

I feel like he genuinely enjoys late nights on the beach, like Tim

Gets some beautiful photos of the water, and people taking walks that he's pretty damn proud of

Maybe once or twice he'll join Doby for a walk too get pictures of the rising sun

Likes getting small things from the gift shops

Shark teeth, maybe a cheesy snowglobe

Something silly but nice too remember the trip by

Eyeless Jack

first things first, ya know those double-lens glasses? Like you flip up the sunglass part and theres normal lenses underneath? Someone gave him those

But their are crappy eyes painted on the normal lenses

He's very confused but its just ridiculous enough for him too like

The beach isn't his favorite place, I HC him as nocturnal and most things are open during the day

He takes too the rides and crappy carnival games that are open late at night

He can't see everything super well but makes up fun things for himself

Enjoys going on rollercoasters that he has no idea what the hell the drops look like

Fucking hates bumper cars

Can't tell where everyone's coming from or when

More nerve racking then fun

Whenever they go to the beach beach he just kind of chills

Akwardly curls up on a towel because he's big as shit

Where ever they stay he walks around, uses his echo location shit too find out all its quirks

"This walls more hallow then that one- those support beams in the lobby are doing a very shitty job of keep things together"

Loves sitting out on the balcony and just smelling the salt air, listening too people laughing and the ocean waves

Just the small details a lot of people miss

[sleeping-lilies]

Please give me your worst DC takes for entertainment purposes.

fuck, do you mean like the worst thing that i actually think or like the worst takes ive seen or like do you want me to fuck around and bait? i’m gonna fuck around and bait because i simply do not have bad takes, i’m too sexy for that and so is my brain, also i want to make this funny lmfao

the recent plot thingy for bruce losing his money has actually been really impactful and brilliant because taking a man from being a billionaire to a millionaire is a super humbling experience. this will majorly impact his character for the next couple of years.

it is an extremely big deal that NONE of the robins that came before tim wear pants. it is a MAJOR POINT in dc that TIM be the one to bring pants into the legacy, it’s HIS major character development and BIGGEST contribution to the mantle. jason and dick taking that away from him by adding leggings to THEIR robin uniforms in modern comics is DISRESPECTFUL to tim!!!

ra’s al ghul is a mega dilf, actually

discowing was b-ba-bA-AD nope nope i can’t do this one, sorry </3

ok this one is actually a bad take of mine and is completely serious oopsie, but i think we were all too harsh on the drake suit, like compared to other designs i’ve seen the suit itself wasn’t too bad it just had artists that didn’t do it justice. it’s just the name that makes me go 🤺

ok back to being “serious” lmfao, jason’s probably a really bad fighter i mean what does he do besides go BANG BANG BAANNGGG i bet he’s a kpoppie.

dc’s hate towards wally and all the flashes are justified those fuckers keep fucking up the timeline so they should repent by being tossed out lmfao

wait this one is serious again oopsie here we go again, the way dc draws dick grayson most of the time makes me go 😖 like that man is my favorite but dc does his character design dirty a lot, people point to this one panel and be like “this is the epitome of beauty” and now i gotta try and do the mental math of “is this actually terrible or do i have terrible taste” the answer is obviously that the art is terrible because i could never have terrible taste 😚

ok now back to “serious” damian is the best fighter in the entire bat fam and easily outclasses them, like he was training since birth to be an assassin and everything he could take on that crusty old fucker dick grayson any day. like i know dick has been training as an athlete and mega child prodigy acrobat since birth, and he’s been a vigilante since he was nine but he’s old and his bones prolly creak when he stands up wait wait WAIT I HAD TO SAY THIS ONE I SAW THIS TAKE WHERE THEY SAID DAMIAN WAS THE BEST FIGHTER IN HIS FAMILY AND IT WAS SOOO FUNNYYYYY

harper row is such a wild card in terms of characters that could be released in these past few years, like they really took a big risk with her and that’s really cool and it was especially cool how they changed cass’s backstory to revolve around that white girl. like, it added so much nuance to her story and so much more depth to her character instead of completely ruining it <3

personally i think if you don’t add a character i like in your posts then you are a bigot for any possible reason i can identify, sorry guys that’s how it works because the world revolves around me 😇

[river-bottom-nightmare]

this was originally a bribe for @screennamealreadyused but since she already did the thing i wanted her to do, think of it as a thank you instead. this is kind of a mess bc it starts off as a hc and ends with a fic-style thing but whatever. accept my offering.

Jason had always been good with kids. No matter what others seem to think of “The Red Hood,” Jason knew that he’d been the sole reason some of those kids in Crime Alley had grown up okay, had grown up at all. And soon enough, the Red Hood developed a rep for helping kids.

Jason had seen himself reflected in those thin, hunger-stark faces, wary and untrusting but still holding out hope for someone to care. he’d become that someone for a good couple of people. of course he hadn’t expected his affinity for kids to stretch into almost all of them. and he certainly hadn’t expected his family to pick up on it.

But here he was, standing helplessly in the middle of Dick’s apartment in Bludhaven as he rushed through the different rooms, talking faster than the Flash. Rules for Mar’i and guidelines for dinner and where the first aid kit was and on and on and on. When he finally left, Jason turned to stare at his niece (his niece!), who was floating in the middle of the room, looking at him with her eerie green eyes. He’d met Mar’i a couple times, she was a sweet kid, but he’d never been alone with her for this long, and he had absolutely no idea what to do. This wasn’t a kid from Crime Alley that he could take to a seedy diner and feed them a burger and laugh about that old crappy corrupt pharmacy burning down on accident. This was a child that had grown up on an alien island, was now on Earth with her dad for the first time, and didn’t know what the hell was going on.

Then, Mar’i tilted her head and said, “Papa says you like books.”

Two hours later found them curled up together on the sofa, Mar’i in Jason’s lap as he read aloud Shakespeare’s King Lear. Mar’i was a good listener, gasping at all the dramatic parts and laughing at the funny voices he put on. And as she dozed off somewhere near Oswald’s death, Jason felt that familiar protective instinct somewhere inside him. It wasn’t helped by Dick’s smirk when he got home, that melted into a genuinely happy smile, despite Jason’s annoyed shaddup, dickface.

After that, it only got worse, because somehow, Mar’i Grayson and Lian Harper had become best friends. Jason had been a pretty consistent fixture in the Harper household, and now, both Dick and Roy would leave Mar’i and Lian with him whenever something came up. 

But Jason could honestly say he didn’t mind. Those two were brilliant, and always fun to watch over. Case in point: they were in Roy’s apartment while Roy was off on a job for the Titans. Lian and Mar’i had long since outgrown the need for a babysitter, but Jason liked the fact that they wanted him around anyway. (It’s just ‘cause you can cook, Dick had said. Shut the fuck up, dickhead, Jason said.)

Mar’i had finished painting Lian’s nails and had moved on to Jason, and he had to admit the deep red Mar’i had chosen didn’t look half bad.

“Thanks for coming, Jayjay,” Mar’i said, focusing on his pinky finger. “Lian really needed this.”

Ordinarily, Jason wouldn’t have thought much of it, but when he looked up, Lian looked almost,,,caught. Jason narrowed his eyes at her, and she looked away.

“Lian. What happened?”

Lian just shook her head, lips sealed, but Mar’i let out a sigh and responded for her. “Lian overheard her boyfriend bragging to his friends about how he was only with her because she was ‘Asian’ or whatever. She dumped him, obviously, but still. It’s rough.”

Jason stared at Mar’i for a minute. Then he made an aborted movement and both Lian and Mar’i tackled him.

“No, Jayjay don’t-”

“You’ll ruin your nail polish.”

“I’m gonna blow that fucker’s brains out.”

“Seriously, it’s not that bad. Nothing I haven’t heard before. Besides, I just wanna watch a movie later and eat your mac and cheese.” Lian grabbed the gun on Jason’s thigh holster and put it on the coffee table. Jason had a couple more on him, but deflated at the pleading expression on Lian’s face.

“You sure? Absolutely? Because I honestly do not give a shit that he’s a kid, I will permanently incapacitate him if the two of you want me too.”

This brought a faint smile to Lian’s face, and Jason prided himself on cheering her up as she settled back against a pillow. “Thanks, but no thanks. Now pass me the black, I’m going to do an accent nail.”

“Ooh, fancy,” Jason said. 

Later, when the two of them were curled up on the couch, Pacific Rim on the TV, Jason pulled out his phone. He sent off some quick identification, then followed it up with I want you to utterly destroy this fucker’s life.

Tim’s response was quick. Why?

Jason thought about sending a “because I said so,” but then realized Tim would probably go even harder on the guy if he told him what actually happened. He’s a racist asshole and hurt Lian.

At Tim’s quick message of Done, Jason smiled, then continued adding mozzarella to the mac and cheese.

And if Lian ran up to him and hugged him the next time they met, well, he’d keep how protective but happy he felt between the two of them.

Tag list: @comicsandhoney @anothertimdrakestan @birdy-bat-writes @yesboopityboop @dangerduckjpeg @astroherogirl @subtleappreciation

[goulets]

Heartland

Chapter: 1/8 Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson Additional Characters: Colin Wilkes, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Alfred Pennyworth Rating: T (for now) Case Fic/Kid Fic a03 link

Jason looks down at the baby, at watery brown eyes and tiny hands, fingers stretching out without knowing what they're reaching for. She yawns and makes a sucking noise, turning her head into his chest.

Damn it.

“We'll do shifts,” he says to Dick, making his tone as businesslike as possible. “I still have shit to do; I can't sit around playing house with you all day.”

Dick doesn't smile, but Jason can see that he wants to. “That sounds reasonable.”

“This is temporary. Just until we find the fuckers that want to take her out.”

“Sure it is.” Dick's all doe-eyed now, watching the baby settle down to sleep. “Welcome home, Jaybird.”

(colin)

It's a quarter past five and the first streams of daylight are curling over the horizon when Colin finally makes it back to the orphanage. He's down to his normal size, brass knuckles heavy in his pockets and slowing his already exhausted steps. It'll be at least three hours before the younger kids wake up; time enough to get one REM cycle in before he's got all those mouths to feed. Damian taught him about monitoring his REM cycles, how it's sometimes better to get three hours than four, how to stay sharp even when he's running on no sleep at all.

Even better, Dick once told him he's welcome at the manor anytime he needs to rest undisturbed, or a hot meal, or a 'flying lesson', whatever that means. Damian had thrown a batarang at his head when he'd suggested it, so Colin assumes it's some kind of inside joke. Regardless, he hasn't been back at the manor to take Dick up on his offer. Batman's back – the real Batman – and Colin would be the worst kind of liar if he said he wasn't a little bit terrified to face him, considering the circumstances of their first meeting.

A motion in the alley next to the orphanage catches his eye, and he stills. Vagrants don't usually start coming around until the soup kitchen opens, and all the thugs he's used to dealing with tend to wait until the kids are up to start messing with them. That's why Colin likes the walk back from patrol, despite his tiredness, despite the chill that rolls off the ever-present fog. The city's glow is muted at this hour, its inhabitants either just starting to stir or just turning in. He's alone with the smog and the molten aura of the streetlights, and there's a quiet about it all that makes even the bloodstains on his knuckles feel pure, purposeful.

That said, he really does need to invest in some gloves.

The figure in the alley is still moving, clumsy and hurried, and all at once Colin realizes what it is they're fumbling with. There's a sort of house-shaped capsule outside St. Aden's, a narrow chute with a small door that doesn't have a lock, and a weathered sign on the front that depicts the outline of an infant. It's a Safe Surrender site, a place where people can legally abandon their newborns, and someone is using it for the first time since Colin's been at the orphanage.

He creeps closer, keeping to the shadows.

The figure spends about five more seconds fumbling with something on the ground, then wrenches open the door to the capsule and deposits something inside. Colin's stomach twists; the blue light above the capsule illuminates, and he can hear a faint alarm going off in the nuns' office. He wonders if they'll even know what it's for. The figure startles at the light, hastily grabs what looks like an empty bag off the ground, and bolts.

Colin wants to follow, but finds himself unable to walk past the capsule without checking it, and once he sees what's inside, he knows there's no chance of him giving chase. The baby is sleeping, definitely not a newborn, but not more than a few months old. Its tiny body is wrapped in a dirty blanket, wisps of black hair sticking out from an unprotected head. Colin supposes he wouldn't have needed to pursue whoever dropped it off; for all intents and purposes, they might think they're doing the right thing. St. Aden's won't turn the baby away, and it's a better option than leaving it in a gutter or a dumpster, which, in Gotham, is not a thing unheard of.

The baby stirs as a stiff breeze swirls through the alley, making Colin shiver. The nuns will be dressed and out in five minutes, give or take. They'll at least put a hat on the baby, Colin thinks. He doesn't know much about babies, but he knows they need hats. The orphanage has baby hats, and diapers, and blankets, albeit thin ones, most with holes. They might even have a spare teddy bear for when the baby has nightmares. No one comforts you when you have nightmares at St. Aden's. The nuns aren't big on hugs, even the babies they hold as little as possible.

Colin may not know a lot about babies, but he knows what happens when you don't hold them. The kids at the orphanage who've been there since infancy are a testament to that. Colin shivers again, thinking of vacant eyes and hunched shoulders. Pale skin and raw voices. Underdeveloped, broken bodies, floating in the river.

The light in the nuns' office comes on. Less than a minute now. Before he can fully process what he's doing or why he's doing it, Colin scoops the baby out of the capsule and cradles it carefully in his arms, walking briskly out of the alley the way that he came. The fog feels damper; it clings to him like it means to shield him from view. As an afterthought, Colin takes off his own hat and uses it to cover the baby's head.

***

“What is so urgent,” Damian snarls, swinging into the garage and making Colin jump and almost topple over, “that it couldn't wait at six in the fucking morning?”

Moving past his initial alarm, Colin feels relief wash over him at seeing his friend. Damian is decked out in his Robin costume and, all things considered, no grumpier than usual. “I'm so glad you're here,” he says in a rush. “I think – I think I screwed up, and I don't know what to do. Um.”

He decides not to draw it out, and instead steps aside, gesturing to the side compartment of his motorcycle. The baby is still sound asleep; he's wrapped his jacket around it as well. He won't die from the cold, but he worries that the baby might.

“What the – ” Damian blinks at the sleeping infant, then points to Colin without looking away. “Explain.”

Colin does. “And I thought if I called you, you might know what to...because you and Batman have handled this kind of stuff, right? You know who to, um.” He pauses, and realizes that he doesn't actually know why his first instinct was to call Damian, aside from the fact that he really has no one else to call. He wraps his arms around himself and lets out a short breath. “What do we do?”

“There's no 'we',” Damian says automatically, just like Colin knew he would. “You can't take care of a baby. You're ten. You have to put it back.”

Colin doesn't move. He knows Damian is probably right. “I just,” he starts to say, searching for the words. He's so tired he can barely think straight. “I guess I wanted it to have a chance. You know? Kids at the orphanage...kids like me, we don't get a lot of choices. Everyone ends up being a bad guy or a victim.” He swallows. “We don't need any more of either in this town.”

Damian scowls and rubs at his mask absently. “You're not either one of those things.”

Colin look at his fist and squeezes it, concentrating. Within a minute, his forearm is as big around as his leg. “No, I'm not,” he says. Damian has gone very still. Colin closes his eyes and feels his way back to his normal size, flexing his hand once it's shrunk back down. “Not anymore.”

“I – ” Damian cuts himself off, clenching his jaw. “Fine. We'll take it back to the manor. We have to go now, before they realize I'm gone.”

Colin bites back a grin and scoops the baby up, cradling its head carefully against his chest. The baby's face isn't cold anymore, which gives him an unexpected surge of elation, and he practically skips to Damian's side, earning a severely reproachful look from his friend.

“How did you get here?”

“I swiped Father's keys,” Damian says dryly, holding them out and pressing a button. Brilliant headlights illuminate the alley outside the garage, and Colin's jaw drops as a sleek, two-door Batmobile pulls up in front of them.

“How did – ”

“Remote autopilot. It drives itself.”

“Whoa.”

Damian rolls his eyes and presses another button, making the roof retract halfway. He swings in over the door and says, “Don't scratch the interior.”

Colin slides in beside him, awestruck. He's in the freaking Batmobile. If everything under the sun goes wrong with this sort-of kidnapping, even if he winds up in jail, it'll be so worth it.

***

(jason)

Jason's not having a particularly good day.

Scratch that, it's nine in the morning, and Jason's already not having a particularly good day.

“Where did you say you heard this?” Bruce asks, frowning at his computer screen. Translation: which parts of this are you lying about, Jason?

“Oh, you know,” Jason says, not caring to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “Me and some of my League buddies were doing tapas over at Ocho, and you know how they get when the wine starts pouring.” Bruce glares at him, and he glares right back. “All I know is Shiva's overseas for the foreseeable future. Just thought I'd share, since I heard you were looking. But whatever you want her for, I'm telling you, she probably didn't do it. This time.”

Bruce stares at him, cold and still as a statue. Jason wants to hit himself. Idiot move, coming here. Not like the Great Bat Detective needs his legwork anyhow.

He squares his shoulders and says, “Hey, take it or leave it. Which, speaking of, I'm gonna go ahead and leave now.”

Bruce's silence follows him out, and Jason practices the tried-and-true strategy of stirring up old resentments to mask the hurt. Not like he'd expected old Batsy to fall all over himself with excitement on account of a visit from his fallen son, but there's a cold reception, and there's the patented Bruce Wayne Freeze-Out. If Jason had imagined their shared history of returning from the dead would bring them closer together, he'd been sorely mistaken.

“Will you be joining us for breakfast, Master Jason?” Alfred asks, wiping his hands on a dish towel as Jason attempts to hustle past the kitchen. Habit has him pausing, because you just don't blow off Alfred, and that small hesitation is all it takes for the smells wafting out of the kitchen to hit him head-on. And oh, do they hit him. Pancakes, eggs, bacon – turkey bacon, Jason's favorite, of course Alfred remembers that stupid little detail. He probably also remembers that Jason is pathologically incapable of refusing food. Bastard.

“I'm not really – ” he starts to say hungry, but his stomach picks that exact moment to let loose a traitorous growl that echoes down the hallway and probably wakes up any still-asleep inhabitants of the manor.

Alfred, to his everlasting credit, doesn't even flinch. Jason heaves a sigh. “Yeah, all right. Just a bite, I guess.”

“I'll set a place for you.” Like the old man hasn't already.

Jason tugs off his gloves and makes his way to the sink to wash up. No telling what's living under his nails these days, but it's probably better not to ingest it.

“This is really good, Alfie,” he says through a thick bite of pancake. “Damn. I hope the new kid knows how good he's got it.”

“I'm afraid I haven't met anyone quite as enthusiastic about my cooking as you, Master Jason. Except, on occasion – Master Richard!”

“Hey, Alfie! Man it smells good, what's the occasion?” A shirtless, pajama-pants clad Dick Grayson bounds into the kitchen, more golden retriever than man, and stops on one foot with his face six inches above the bacon pan, breathing in. “Hey, is that turkey bacon?” He whirls around. “Jason!”

“Um.” Jason goes very stiff in his seat, teeth locked together around a forkful of eggs. Chew, swallow. He hadn't know Dick was here; hadn't figured any of the bat clan would even be awake at this charming daylight hour, except Bruce, who Jason's convinced deprogrammed the biological need to sleep out of his system years ago. “Hey.”

Dick looks pleased to see him, but confused. He's still on one foot. Jason represses the childish urge to throw something at him; knock him over like a big stupid bowling pin. “What are you doing here?”

“Just came by to drop off some intel,” he shrugs, fidgeting with his napkin. “You know how it is. Spend enough time cracking skulls, more than brain tissue leaks out.”

When Dick doesn't react beyond placing both feet on the ground and pursing his lips disapprovingly, Jason puts on his best shit-eating grin. Ah, ruining family meals. Just like old times.

“Thanks for the grub, Alfie,” he calls, swinging his legs over the side of his chair. “Think I've overstayed my welcome now, so I'm just be on my way.” He deliberates for a moment before snatching the last piece of turkey bacon off his plate, then walks briskly out of the kitchen and towards the front door.

“Jason – wait up a second.” Dick's voice behind him, close behind him, practically a whisper. Jason turns and takes a deliberate step backward, putting space between them. He's fairly sure he can take Dick hand-to-hand, but he wants to be as close to the exit as possible when he does.

“What?” he demands, more roughly than he needs to. He shifts his hip to feel the handle of his knife pressing into it; the exact shape he'll mold his palm to if he needs to draw it.

Dick crosses his arms and stares him down steadily. It's a mistake to make eye contact with him, because Dick's stare isn't like Bruce's, shrewd and penetrating, it's not a gaze that takes any effort to hold. Quite the contrary – Jason's always had trouble breaking eye contact with Dick. Bruce's stare goes through him, turns him inside out, but Dick's grips him, surrounds him, takes the full measure of him without pulling everything ugly to the surface. It's unnerving. He'd rather face Bruce any day.

“You don't have to leave just because I walked into the room.”

He shouldn't be able to project so much earnestness in nothing but faded Superman sleep pants, Jason thinks. It defies human nature.

“It was more of a sashay,” he smirks, still not blinking. “And it's not on your account, don't worry. I just have shit to do.”

“You should come by more often,” Dick presses.

It's all Jason can do not to throw his head back and laugh. “Right,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “That's gonna happen over Bruce's dead body.”

There's a flash of pain on Dick's face, and Jason thinks his phrasing was probably ill-advised. Too soon and all. Oh well.

“That's not true,” Dick shakes his head, shaggy hair falling in front of his eyes. Jason feels a bizarre and fleeting urge to brush it away, makes it an immediate priority to repress desires like that as far down as they can possibly go. “Look, I know it hasn't always been easy – ”

Jason scoffs. “Oh, sure.”

“ – but if you'd just give him some time, I know he wants you back, Jason. You're family. And I think you know it too, or you wouldn't even be here.”

Defiant rage stirs in Jason's stomach, but this isn't the time or the place for that kind of reaction. He settles instead on indifference. “That's an old tune, Dickie. Might be time to learn some new ones.”

Dick's expression softens. Damnit. This is why he can't stand around talking to Dick, making fucking chitchat and this perverse, endless eye contact. They observe each other in circles, it's nearly impossible to hide, and Dick doesn't hide anything, which means Jason's at an automatic disadvantage. Every goddamn time.

It's pointless to bare his teeth in a grin and offer a sardonic wave, but Jason does it anyways. “It's been real, Boy Wonder. I'll catch you la – ”

“Shh.” Dick puts up a finger, frowning. He looks up the stairs. “Do you hear that?”

If this is another strategy to try and stall him, Jason's gonna start throwing punches. “Hear what?” he demands. He's about to tell Dick to go fuck himself – which, he probably can, fucking acrobat – no, bad visual, stop thinking about Dick naked, Jesus fucking Christ – when he hears it too.

It sounds like – “Is that a baby?” He looks sideways at Dick. “Bruce have a second love child already?”

Dick says, “I'll see you later, Jason,” and starts climbing the stairs.

Well, obviously Jason can't leave now.

They follow the cries down one of the many upstairs hallways, which, from the portraits and weaponry lining the walls, Jason figures must lead to Damian's room. Dick pauses outside a closed door, pressing his ear to it, and, curiosity getting the better of him, Jason follows suit.

“You have to get it to shut up! The whole mansion's probably heard it by now!”

“I'm trying!” an unfamiliar voice hisses, and there's the sound of a hiccup from a third unfamiliar voice. Presumably something babylike. “Do you think it's hungry?”

“How the hell should I know? This was your moronic idea, Colin, don't you know anything about babies?”

“Maybe we should google it.”

“I'm going to kill you. Actually, when Father finds out we kidnapped a fucking baby, he'll kill us both. I can't believe I let you talk me into this mess.”

The crying starts again. Dick looks at Jason and mouths, one, two, three, before pushing the door open and revealing their presence.

It's quite a scene. Damian's in half his costume, mask, boots, and cape discarded on the floor, and he's grinding his teeth at another boy, a redhead kid in a dirty checkered sweatshirt who looks to be around his age. The redhead kid looks horrified to see them standing there, first going furiously red, then white as a sheet. But the thing that really grabs Jason's attention is the baby – yep, a flesh-and-blood human infant – cradled awkwardly in the redhead kid's arms, screaming its tiny head off.

Dick looks between them, his eyes enormous. “Damian? Colin? What is this?”

It's a question, not an accusation. Jason has to hand it to him; Bruce would've had them sizzling on the grill the second the word 'kidnapped' reached his ears.

Colin says, “It's not what it looks like!”

Dick glances sideways at Jason. “Okay, but. I'll be honest, I'm not even sure what it looks like.”

Jason shrugs. “You kids abduct any babies lately?”

“We didn't abduct it,” Damian snarls. “Colin found it. Abandoned. It was my mistake to bring it here.”

The baby cries louder. It's a miracle Alfred hasn't come running yet.

“Someone dropped it at St. Aden's,” Colin says quickly, between bouts of screaming. “I just – I couldn't just leave it there, you don't know what it's like, growing up that way.” He clutches the baby to him fiercely, bitterness etched all over his face. “You might as well hand him over to the gangs right now, because that's where he'll end up.”

Dick looks horribly conflicted. Jason laughs out loud.

“So, what was your plan?” he asks incredulously. “Two ten year olds, teaming up to raise a baby? Which one of you's the mom?”

Dick's arm blocks Damian's sharp kick to Jason's face. “Thank you, Jason, that was helpful,” he says. “But, uh, what was the plan, exactly?”

Everyone looks to Colin, who shrinks visibly under their combined gaze. “I don't know,” he says in a small voice, nearly indecipherable beneath the baby's cries. “I hadn't really thought that far ahead. I just – I thought Batman could save him.”

It takes everything in Jason's face-saving book not to respond to that, but he barely manages to keep his mouth shut. Dick shoots him a look of gratitude, and he rolls his eyes. Obviously there are more pressing issues at hand than his lingering manpain; Jason's not that self-involved.

“Okay,” Dick says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Here's how we solve this. He – she? – we'll figure it out, whatever, is probably hungry. And wet. Did you two change its diaper?”

Damian and Colin look at each other and shrug helplessly. “Right.” Dick points one hand behind him. “I'm going to go to the kitchen; I know Alfred keeps formula in there somewhere. And we should have diapers in one of the emergency supply closets. I'll get that stuff. Jason, take the baby for a minute, would you? Colin looks like he's about to drop.”

Jason backs against the wall, saying, “Oh no, I don't – that's not a – ” but then the screaming bundle is being precariously extended towards him, and instinct has him reaching out to take it.

“Jesus,” he mutters, feeling the fragile weight of the baby in his arms. Can't be much more than ten pounds. He has handguns with more substance than this thing. “Where're you keeping those lungs, little guy?”

Silence falls over the room, and it takes Jason a minute to realize that he didn't spontaneously go deaf, the baby stopped crying. Its tiny eyes – brown, dark and wet – are blinking up at him like he's the most interesting thing in the world.

Oh, no.

This is a disaster.

He doesn't hear Dick's intake of breath so much as he feels it, which might be because he's holding his breath too, because the baby is looking at him, and damnit, this is the last fucking thing he needs in his life. “Go,” he says to Dick, inserting as much venom into his voice as possible, wrenching his eyes away from the baby's. “It's probably just going into shock or something.”

The baby farts.

“Okay, or that.”

Dick bites his lip hard, and ten different emotions of various intensities flash through Jason's gut. Then he's gone, cartwheeling down the staircase, knowing him.

Colin says, “Wow, it really likes you.”

Damian smirks. “I guess we know who the mom is.”

“Don't think because I've got a ten pound handicap I won't kick your ass, kid,” Jason snaps. It's an empty threat, and they all know it. For now anyways. Once the baby situation's dealt with, all bets are off.

Dick's back within five minutes, armed to the teeth with things more frightening to Jason than any weapon he can imagine. Diapers, wipes, blankets, bottles, even a tiny blue hat that looks handmade. Jason's heart thuds unevenly in his chest, recognizing Alfred's handiwork in the stitching; indisputable evidence that Bruce Wayne, Batman, was once a baby just like this one. It'd be hilarious, if he could push a laugh past the lump in his throat.

“Here.” Dick hands him a diaper. It has Mickey Mouse on it.

Jason shakes his head. “Nuh-uh. I didn't sign up for this shit. And I mean that in the literal sense; I did not put 'clean up baby shit' in my day planner today.” He thrusts the diaper back at Dick.

“Fine,” Dick snaps, holding his arms out expectantly. “Give me the baby. Damian, shake up this formula, will you?”

Damian snatches the bottle out of his hand and shakes it with the aggression of a paint mixer. Well, hey, at least he's dedicated.

The baby starts to fuss as it's transferred from Jason's arms to Dick's, and the lump in Jason's throat gets bigger. “Hey, hey,” Dick croons, settling the baby down on the rug and starting to unwrap its blanket. “You're okay, little guy. We got you – oh, I'm sorry,” he grins, glancing up at Jason. “Little girl, I'm guessing.”

Jason peers over his shoulder and sees that under the blanket, the baby is wearing tiny pink pajamas with little white and green flowers. Like the blanket, the pajamas are dirty. He wonders when the baby last had a bath.

Not your problem. He needs to get the hell out of here.

“Ooh, someone's got a full diaper,” Dick goes on. Jason wants to kick him in the back of the head. “Let's fix that, huh? Oh, yeah. We'll get someone on that right away.”

Jason jumps backward when Dick extends the dirty diaper to him, and Dick rolls his eyes. “It's just pee. Get over yourself, honestly.”

“Fuck you,” Jason growls. “I'm not part of this.”

Colin walks over with dogged footsteps and takes the diaper from Dick, folding it over until it's a tight little pocket that fits in the palm of his hand. He turns to Damian. “Where's the garbage?”

Damian jerks his head in the direction of the bathroom, and Dick glares at Jason as he refastens the baby's pajamas.

The baby's fussing turns into loud wails again, and Dick picks her – no, it, can't think of it as a person, damnit – up, rocking his arms gently. The baby cries, rubs its face on Dick's chest, and then turns its head and look directly at Jason.

“Aw, Jay. Looks like she's got a crush.”

“Please.” Jason rolls his eyes and tries to ignore the vise that's squeezing in his chest. He really, really needs to leave. Like, yesterday.

But then Dick starts feeding the baby, and Jason finds himself utterly rooted to the spot.

It figures that parenting is something that would come naturally to Dick. It seems like most things come naturally to him, particularly the things that terrify normal people, like leaping off tall buildings, running into the line of fire, taking on twenty armed goons with nothing but his stupid fucking escrima sticks. Dick cradles the baby with arms that've put hundreds of criminals on their asses, arms that are scarred all over, just like Jason's. He gazes down at the baby as it eats, murmuring praise, shifting slowly from foot to foot, and that damn thing won't stop looking at Jason, even while it's sucking enthusiastically at the bottle.

Footfalls behind him; a distinct step he'd know anywhere. “I took the liberty of digging up some clothes for our young guest,” Alfred says, as though nothing is out of the ordinary. “They're a bit dated, but I believe they should still be suitable.”

“Can we all get out of my room now?” Damian asks. “I'd like to change, and I'd prefer to do it without the entire household watching.”

Alfred nods. “Certainly, Master Damian. Master Richard, perhaps it would be prudent to bring this matter to Master Bruce at this time.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dick says, heavily, shooting another look at Jason. Why does he keep doing that? “Let's just get her fed and changed really quick.”

“Of course.”

As soon as they're downstairs, the baby spits out the nipple and screws up its face like it's going to start howling again. Jason doesn't know what it is, some kind of long-buried impulse, a skill set he never thought he'd had to begin with, but he's stepping forward with his arms outstretched, palms open and flat, like he could do a damn thing to keep the baby quiet.

Dick pegs him with a curious look, and Jason freezes. “You wanna hold her?”

“What? No,” Jason says, shoving his arms down to his sides. “I just – I thought you were gonna drop it. Her.”

Dick doesn't say anything, and Jason feels a flush creeping up his neck. “You know what, it seems like you guys have this all handled. I'm just gonna...go.”

He turns, and the baby starts crying again.

Jesus Christ in a goddamn handbasket, this is bad.

“If you wouldn't mind,” Dick says, carefully, “We could use the help. Until we figure out what to do.”

“He can help,” Jason protests, pointing at Colin.

“I actually, um,” Colin looks vaguely terrified, glancing guiltily between them. “I have to go, my kids – there's kids at the orphanage, I have to be there. For them.”

Jason doesn't think about the time he spent on the streets, doesn't relive those fun childhood memories for any reason, but they're a scar on his psyche, forever etched in, and he can't exactly make them go away, either. He remembers the kids from the orphanages, how little and lost they were, better cared for but more unloved than any of the other street kids. He remembers standing up for them as much as he remembers knocking them over and stealing from them. No kids are worse equipped to protect themselves. Colin looks like he weighs eighty pounds soaking wet, but Jason reasons that he wouldn't be friends with Damian if he couldn't take a hit.

Colin probably takes a lot of hits on behalf of his kids. The thought turns Jason's stomach, and he knows he can't ask him to stay.

Dick frowns and starts to say, “I'm sure – ”

“Go,” Jason says quickly, giving Colin a short nod. “It's fine, whatever. My shit can wait a few hours.”

Everyone stares at him. The baby is still crying.

“Oh, for fuck's sake. Fine, give me the damn kid.” He sets his jaw and takes the baby from Dick, expressly avoiding Dick's eyes, or any part of his face, for that matter. The baby fusses for a minute, then seems to catch sight of Jason's face again, and settles down at once.

Shit, shit, shit.

***

“You're doing this completely wrong,” Jason tells the baby as they make their way down to the Batcave. “I'm sure as hell not taking you home with me, I'll tell you that much. No offense.”

The baby coughs, and Jason finds himself holding it a little tighter. It's all very unnerving, the way he's already used to the shape of its small form in his arms, the way its head fits snugly into the soft spot of flesh between his shoulder and his breastbone. Alfred threw out the ratty blanket it was wrapped in and gave them a new one, along with a pink cotton onesie with a stiff lace collar. Purchased forty odd years ago by Martha Wayne, on the off-chance that she was having a baby girl. A little piece of trivia that Jason is going to any lengths necessary not to think about.

“It fits with the intel I got last week,” Tim is saying, “Qurac is a big job; she wouldn't be doing it alone.”

“No,” Bruce agrees, hunched over in front of his massive screen. “Perhaps the League of Assassins isn't behind this at all.”

“So either someone's setting it up to look like they...” Tim trails off, catching sight of Jason, or more accurately, the wiggling bundle in his arms. “Is that a baby?”

Jason looks down and gasps. “Holy shit, how did that get there?”

Dick rolls his eyes. Tim says, “Wait, it's not – ”

“It's not mine, Replacement. Don't give yourself a stroke deducing over there.”

Bruce turns in his chair to face them, frowning deeply. His eyes take in Dick, Jason, and the baby. “Where's Damian?”

Dick steps forward. “He went with Alfred to take Colin ho – back to St. Aden's.”

“Ah.” Bruce nods. “So that's where he went this morning.” His gaze lands on the baby. “I take it the infant came from the orphanage as well.”

“She's really sweet, Bruce.” Dick adopts a pleading voice. “Colin thought he was doing the right thing.”

“Colin can look after her when she's returned to St. Aden's,” Bruce says firmly. “The Mansion is no place for a baby.” He stands and walks over to Jason. “May I?”

It takes Jason a moment to realize that Bruce is asking his permission to hold the baby. He doesn't know what's more surprising, the fact that Bruce is asking at all, or the fact that he wants to refuse, to take the baby and run as far away as possible, to an alternate universe where parents don't abandon their kids or sell them out, where they don't let psychopaths murder them, where they'd rather burn the world down than let any harm come to another child on their watch.

He thinks that Bruce can probably see his struggle painted on his face as he waits for his answer. And he is waiting, because the question wasn't a formality, it's a real uncertainty, and Bruce is asking Jason whether or not he trusts him to take this small life and protect it, even if it's just for a few moments.

Jason's reflexive answer is a harsh and unforgiving fuck no, but that's not the end of it. There's something deeper inside him, something that's been climbing toward the surface for a while now, no matter how hard he tries to bury it, that tells another story. A lot of other stories.

Rather than sift through them, he bites his tongue and hands the baby over. He tells himself he won't look at Bruce to see his reaction, but how often do you get to see Batman with a baby?

Jason will die again a hundred times before he ever admits it, but the vision of Bruce, half-suited up, broad and unyielding and Batman, folding his arms into a cradling position for the baby, is actually pretty fucking charming. He wouldn't've guessed that Bruce had a lot of experience with small children, but he doesn't look uncomfortable. The baby whines and stirs, little hands feebly reaching up to clutch at the bat symbol on his chest, and Jason thinks he actually sees Bruce's mouth quirk in a smile.

“I'm just going to scan her handprint,” he says, addressing Jason.

Jason shrugs. “Whatever.”

The whining stops as soon as he takes the baby over to the enormous computer screen, and Jason hopes that all the lights and flashing images don't fry the baby's brain. There are shots of crime scenes, bodies with blood spilled onto the street, rotating in the corner of the screen, and Jason hopes the baby's subconscious doesn't file those images away for night terrors down the road. Although, if it's going back to the orphanage, it'll see the real thing soon enough.

There's an uplifting thought.

“Danielle Leigh Torres,” Bruce says after a moment. “Born the sixteenth of January. Parents Linda Torres – deceased, and Mitchell Howard, also deceased.”

“Wait a minute.” Tim's gone still with his hand hovering over the keyboard. “Mitch Howard – that's Big Mouth Howard's real name.”

Big Mouth Howard. Jason's heard the name – some lowlife, maybe a bookie? He doesn't know why it'd be significant to any of them, but the way Tim and Bruce are looking at each other suggests that there's something fairly major he's missing. Jason glances at Dick, and is relieved to see that he looks just as out of the loop.

“You two wanna clue us in?” Jason demands, stepping closer to the screen. “Who the fuck is Big Mouth Howard?”

Bruce continues scowling unfathomably at the screen, and Tim lets out a long exhale. “There's been a lot of activity in the East End this past week,” he says. “You guys have probably noticed.”

“Yeah, bunch of dealers got capped,” Jason confirms, still not understanding why this should matter so much to Batman. “Turf wars. Big fucking deal.”

Tim shakes his head. “Not just dealers. Cy Reynolds was Intergang, they bought out the Dragons’ territory a few months ago and have been pulling in major product from Venezuela. His whole family was taken out, all his lieutenants, all their families.” He pulls up a mug shot of a sneering, overweight man with some serious dental issues. “Big Mouth was one of them.”

“So, you're thinking professional hits.”

“Reynolds had a lot of enemies. Guy dipped his pen in way too many wells. We thought Intergang might've taken him out themselves, because he was something of a liability, but why take out the lieutenants?”

“And the families,” Dick adds, frowning. “Someone wanted to send a message.”

“Exactly. He's gotten on the wrong side of the al Ghuls more than once, and this is their style,” Tim continues, pulling up more detailed shots of the bodies. “That one's Linda Torres. She wasn't even married to Big Mouth, but they still got her.”

“League's got bigger fish to fry,” Jason says dismissively. “They wouldn't bother.”

“Yeah, well, you would know,” Tim replies, raising an eyebrow. “Anyways, we're thinking it's a move against Intergang now, not just Reynolds. I have a couple hunches, but we need to examine the bodies more closely to know for sure.”

“Bruce,” Dick says, “if they're really sending a message, they're gonna be looking for Danielle.”

Tim opens his mouth and shuts it. No one speaks, and, as if on cue, the bundle in Bruce's arms starts wailing again.

Something is squeezing Jason's lungs, making it hard for him to breathe normally. Danielle. The baby has a name, it's a goddamn person and it's – she's – been in this world for three fucking months and she's already got a price on her head. God almighty, what a piece of shit world they live in.

Jason grinds his teeth. “No way she goes back to that orphanage.”

Everyone turns to look at him. He ignores them and steps forward, extending his arms towards Bruce, who slides Danielle over to him without protest.

“Jason – ”

“Forget it, Bruce. I don't know what paragraph of your moral code stipulates that you have to throw a fucking baby to the wolves instead of, oh, I don't know, protect her, but you can shove it up your ass. I'll fucking take her if it's that goddamn important to you. And if anyone comes for her, they die.”

“ – I was going to say, I think she should stay here. For the time being.”

Jason pauses. “Oh.”

“Provided, of course, that someone will be able to look after her. Other than Alfred.”

“I'll stay,” Dick volunteers. Of course he does. Fucking boy scout. “Jason?”

Jason looks down at Danielle, at watery brown eyes and tiny hands, fingers stretching out without knowing what they're reaching for. She yawns and makes a sucking noise, turning her head into his chest.

Damn it.

“We'll do shifts,” he says to Dick, making his tone as businesslike as possible. “I still have shit to do; I can't sit around playing house with you all day.”

Dick doesn't smile, but Jason can see that he wants to. “That sounds reasonable.”

“This is temporary. Just until we find the fuckers that want to take her out.”

“Sure it is.” Dick's all doe-eyed now, watching Danielle settle down to sleep. Idiot. “Welcome home, Jaybird.”

***

[choco-glow]

Fall Like Rain On Sunday, Pt. 3

Jason parked the truck in one of the public lots just outside the main market district, finding a decent spot just before the big evening rush, and Steph was happy to have his hand back out to the ground, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow as he led her gently over the pitted gravel lot. Certainly, she could have done it herself with a little extra time, but…well, leaning on Jason was nice, and Steph was, frankly, enjoying the attention. Maybe it was just the fact that we were young, and totally mismatched, but Tim…never acted like this with me. Sure, he’d help me if I really needed it, but just being a gentleman? Just doing it for the sake of being nice? Definitely not. And Jason, of all people, didn’t hurry her along, nor did he patronize her; he was steady, strong, and encouraging, giving her sweet smiles as they found their footing back onto solid concrete.

“Sorry about that, I should have looked for a better lot…” She shook her head, kissing his cheek again on her tiptoes, and Jason blushed all over again, and when had Tim ever apologized? She couldn’t remember.

“Jason, that’s so not a problem; this is nice and close, so we don’t have to take a shuttle out to the truck, and a little gravel isn’t going to hurt us.” His eyes softened a little more at that, and she patted his bicep, snuggling close. “Besides, you made me a happy woman just by taking me out like this, y’know? Not every day a girl gets her crush to like her back.” Steph felt him freeze, and she glanced up, worried now…only for Jason to catch her lips in a searing kiss that struck her like a bolt of lightning. Oh…Jason pulled back, panting just a little, and Steph gave a tiny moan, clinging to his arms where he’d wrapped her up tight, and he pressed his forehead to hers, brilliant eyes glowing, just a tiny bit, from the Lazarus Pit.

“…Baby, I’ve cared about you for so damned long.” He whispered, and it was Steph’s turn to freeze, eyes wide as saucers. “You never treated me like an outcast, never judged me…”

“You make me feel like I belong.” Steph whispered back, her voice cracking, and Jason’s eyes closed in pain, honest, real pain, before he kissed her again.

“You belong with me.” He murmured, and oh, her heart took a swan dive. “You belong on our patrol, you belong in my arms…Stephie, baby, you belong. And if B or the Replacement or anyone fuckin’ tells you otherwise, I’ll blow off their goddamn kneecaps.” Jason growled, and Steph burst into slightly teary giggles, laughing as he grinned, his hackles lowering at her joy.

“…Maybe like, just shoot through the bicep or something?”

“Fuck no, kneecappin’ teaches a proper lesson.” He muttered, but Jason was already calming down, snuggling her close as Steph took a deep breath and let it out, centering herself. “But seriously. You fuckin’ belong; you were Robin, Batgirl, and now you’re Spoiler again…fuck, you’re a Dead Robin, you’re extra special.” Steph smiled at that, and Jason nuzzled her cheek, his lips softening back into that familiar grin. “I mean, you were extra special already, but…”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Todd.”

“Ain’t flattery if it’s true, Ms. Brown. C’mon…I’ll bet you’re hungry, I know you missed out on Al’s waffles today.” Steph made a face again, but let Jason turn her back towards the market and restaurant district, feeling her stomach growl at the thought of something other than protein bars.

“I’m still pissed at Tim for that.” The fucker had told Alfred that Steph had texted him that she and Jason both were running late, and so when they’d arrived at the normal time, Alfred had already gone out to do his errands, and Bruce and Tim had just finished demolishing the waffle supply. Jason had been angry, but Steph had been both livid and hurt; one punch to the nose for Red Robin and she’d stormed out, Jason right behind her after tossing Tim into the trash, and they’d hit up Pentabux in the Business District for coffee and pricy snacks to tide them over. Jason had paid, of course, because he’d insisted that Steph save her money; he was making more than enough for both of them.

Hmm. Maybe that’s when I realized he was more than just a friend…He’d been so protective over her, and yet, encouraging too. He’d taken over her training, helping her lock in all the skills she’d been thrown into one by one. And the whole time, he’d been grumpy, but never at her…it was always “Goddammit, B, he shoulda shown you how to duck and roll properly, do it like this to protect your head.” or “Fuck that twerp of a replacement…You’re doin’ great, Blondie, keep that punch lined up and you’ll never need another blow to knock down a henchman.” Steph was in the best shape of her life, physically…and surprisingly enough, mentally too. She leaned into his chest, and Jason slid his arm away from hers long enough to wrap it around her shoulders, keeping her closer now.

“As you should be. C’mon, you’re gonna love what I have in mind, Stephie.”

She could get used to this.

[splendor-and-true]

Part two of the soulmate color au

Just a recap, you see the color of your soulmates emotions. When you make eye contact wirh your soulmate, you can see all colors. When your soulmate dies, the colors go away.

True stretched as she drifted awake. Feeling soft fabric shift against her skin as a fire crackled somewhere to the side. Odd. Wasnt she just outside? Her eyes snap open as she shoots up. She was sitting on a couch. A rather comfortable one at that. Eyes flying around the room, she realized she didnt know where she was, but oh! The colors.

She could see all of them. She had met her soulmate? Thats right, thats the only way it could happen. But... the only one she had met was that other operator. The one that looked like him.

Her attention snaps toward the door as it opens, watching as the tall man from the forest walks in. It wasnt a room she recognized, so it must be his place. He wouldnt take her back, would he?

“Oh! Youre awake. I was wondering when you would wake up. You slept for quite some time, but I suppose thats normal, running around in the cold like you were.” His voice wasnt like his at all. Quiet, calming and he could actually speak. As apposed to... what he did.

“Um... yeah. Right. That. So...” she paused, unsure if she should proceed. The possibility of him making her go back was still present in her mind. She could see brighter yellows for the time being, but that didnt mean anything. She always saw yellow. “The colors. You...?”

He glanced over her, watching her hands fiddle with the blanket a bit before responding. “Yes, me. I see them all too. I can understand if it’s a bit much to take in. You probably didn’t even know something like me existed until now-“

“No. I’ve been well aware. For some time now.” She turned her head away when the words slipped out. Why was she being so open with him. Just because he was her soulmate doesnt mean she should be so honest.

Silence ruled the room. She could feel his gaze on the back of her head, hands gripping at the blanket as she waited for his next words. This couldnt end well for her. Why had she told him that. He didnt need to know who she was running from. He didnt need to know what was going to happen to her.

“Well... I came to the logical conclusion you were running from something. Of course, I dont know what or who it was. You lost them when you crossed into my territory. They werent capable of crossing like you. But... I know you were afraid. I was afraid for you... I’m sure you could tell... but I would like to know more. I cant protect you from them very easily if I dont know who they are.” He reaches a hand out for hers, not taking it, but allowing it to hover. An offering that she could take or deny.

On one hand, she wanted to tell him. She felt the need to trust him. He was kind. He was being very considerate of her. Attentive. Nothing like him, even if he looked almost exactly like him. She let out a shaky sigh, turning her head to glance at him through her hair shyly, taking his hand slowly. “Okay.”

He smiled, allowing their hands to lower toward the blanket and rest on her folded legs. “You can start wherever you like and tell me as much as your comfortable with. I’ll do what I can with what I’m given.”

His smile is warm and genuine, backed up by the yellow being intensified in her vision. She wonders what color he was seeing a lot of... it was probably purple if her emotions were that simple. They never seemed to be for her.

“Well... I was fired. Thats why I was running in the snow. At night, of all times, of course. Fucker didnt even have the decency to let me think I would survive. Of course... that was probably the point... if Tim and Brian couldnt catch me then the cold would get me for them.” She ground her teeth, that twiggy bitch. If she could kill him, she would. It wasnt likely though.

She was dragged out of her little rage fest when she fekt his hand squeeze hers gently. “If you dont mind filling me in. Who fired you? Were you a proxy?”

She finds herself absentmindedly tracing her thumb over his hand. Finding a small reprive from her thoughts in the action. “Yes. I was. Im not anymore though, so no need to worry about stealing another operators property.”

He hums worriedly before asking again. “Who fired you?”

Her eyes lock on the flames. They werent very bright, despite her knowing flames should be a brilliant orangey yellow. He wasnt very cheerful anymore.

“I was a proxy for Slenderman.” She lets the silence that follows take over. Maybe he knew him. Maybe being his soulmate didnt mean much to him, like Slenderman’s soulmate didnt mean much to him. He had once admitted to having one at one point, though she knew he didnt care to have one. He had called such a thing a ‘waste of time.’ Maybe this one thought the same.

“Oh. Well, that is very interesting. I have to say, it’s rather impressive you got away, though very glad you did, soulmate. I can guarentee he wont be a problem as long as you stay here. He doesnt visit me. All buisness we have is handled in his territory, hes such a shut in.” He waves his hand around in the air, as if brushing the thought of him coming here away.

“Well... thats good.” She didnt know how to proceed. He basically told her that she was free to stay and as long as she did, she would be safe. He would keep her safe.

“Now... I’m no idiot, though I may pass for one on occassion, but I know how he handles his buisness. He is very dependant on fear. And I know being fired from his ‘employment’, if you will, means death. I can promise that wont happen here. Marked proxies of other operators cant even cross the boundaries without permission. Youre safe here.” She feels her hair being played with and looks his way. “I promise.”

She knows it may just be the bond, but he felt trustworthy. She wanted to trust him, so she did. Smiling back at him gently, her hand squeezing his back, gently. “I believe you.”

The yellows in her vision seemed to shine a bit, making her relax into the couch. He was happy. He genuinely enjoyed knowing she trusted him. That she was comfortable with him.

“So, soulmate, I dont belive I got your name.” She turns her head toward him fully, laughing softly as he perks up. Eyes widening as he realizes she was right.

“How rude of me. Im sorry, soulmate. You can call me Splendor.” She tilts her head at the name. It wasnt a surprise, its not like she was expecting a normal name, but it was something that she wouldnt have expected regardless.

“Splendor. Well, my name is True. Im glad to have finally met you.”

[secondgenerationnerd]

Not Her Too

You know what we need? The Joker fucking up. Enjoy!!

----

           People assume a lot about Dahlia when they see her. Mainly because she can’t see them. How sad, they sigh. How pitiful, they whisper. What bullshit, she thinks.

“Gracie, I don’t know if you’re smart or stupid,” Dahlia laughs into her phone, unlocking the front door. The groceries rustle in the paper bag,

“Whatever,” Her cousin snorts, “My Dads say I’m brilliant.”

Between clicks of her tongue, listening to the way they bounce around the tiny apartment, Dahlia teases, “Those are two different versions of a similar lie.”

“Fuck you, Todd.”

“No thanks.” She sets the bag on the counter. “Any word from Tio Tim?”

“Yeah, Dad said everything went great. They’re over at Uncle Dickie’s place being weirdos.”

“What does that say about us then?”

“Well, with my other Dad and Aunt Cassie, I stand something of a chance. You on the other hand—”

“Remain as the prettier of us.” Laughing with her cousin, Dahlia shakes her head. “Alright, I’ll call you later.”

“Sounds like a plan. Love you, Dahli.”

“Love you too, Gracie.”

Setting her phone in the charging dock, Dahlia starts putting the food away. Papa hasn’t changed the lay out since they moved in. Makes it easier for her. Sure fingers run over boxes, can, and jars, running down a list in her head of what to make. Wonders if she should try to call her father to see if he wants--

A creak from the front area makes her slow for a moment. A insane heartbeat that she’s never heard before. Pretending everything’s okay, shrugging it off, she continues walking around the kitchen. Before she can reach the emergency button in the knife drawer, every muscle in her body tightens painfully, electricity pulsing through it. She can’t even scream. Dahlia collapses on the ground.

“Well, well, well.” She knows that cackle. Heard it in recordings for years. A gloved hand grabs her face, “Look at what I found.”

--

“Fuck you, Drake!” Jason laughs at his younger brother.

“I’m just saying you could do worse than—”

           “I am just happy with how my life is.” Jason assures him. “I’ve got a home. I’ve got you dumbasses for family. I’ve got my Llama. I don’t need much else.”

           Before one of his brothers can say something back, Dick’s phone buzzes. He reads it with a frown. Tim chuckles into his coffee mug, “Uh-oh, in trouble with the Missus.”

           “Babs is saying we need to turn on the tv.” He reaches for the remote.

           “What channel?”

           “Any.”

           The screen flickers to life and their hearts stop at that fucking high pitched cackle from the screen. Joker’s ghostly white face and bloody lips take up the entire screen. Soft groans from the background sound so, so familiar.

           “Hello to all just joining us.” The psychotic clown “I’m not typically one to redo performances, but this one was just too tempting.”

           He moves back from the camera. Curled on the ground, hands bound behind her, a teenaged girl groans. The soft brown curls cover her face until Joker slams his foot into her stomach. Clouded gray eyes widen as she gasps and Jason’s on his feet.

           No.

           Not her.

           Not her too.

           “Now, now.” Joker tuts, “You really need to help me here, kid.”

           “Go to hell.” Dahlia spats. Joker yanks her up with a fist in her hair, not even blinking as she spits blood at him.

           “That’s just rude.” He smashes her face into the concrete. “You remind me of your dad. He was just like this. Wonder if he remembers this.”

           Joker disappears from the screen. Coughing, Dahlia manages to sit up. Bruises cover her face and neck, blood dripping from her nose. Metal scraping along the ground makes Jason’s heart stop. More so the words that Joker says, “You and I are going to settle a debate your dad and I couldn’t. Which feels better: A or B.”

           As Joker brings the crow bar down, Dick turns the TV off.

           “Turn it back on.” Jason growls.

           The first Robin crosses his arms, “No.”

           “I said, turn. It. Back. ON!”

           “No.”

           “THAT’S MY DAUGHTER—”

           “So, do you want to keep wasting our time arguing or do you want save her?” The question cuts through his anger instantly, along with his brothers’ clenched jaws. Jason blinks until he continues, “Babs has already traced the signal. We leave now, we can be there in less than ten minutes.”

           “…He’s hurting my little girl.”

           “We know, Jason.” Tim pulls their spare uniforms from the cupboard.

           “I’m going to—"

           “Todd.” Damian’s even tone does little to hide the anger in his jade eyes. “Do you think any of us aren’t thinking about the same thing?”

           His brothers each give him the same look.

They’ve got his back.

More than that, they’re on his side.

--

           Sour breath burns her nostrils. Every tiny movement makes her want to cry. Another sharp blow from the crowbar hits her shoulder. “Now, now. We aren’t done yet.”

           “Fuck. You.” Dahlia coughs, leaving a metallic taste in her mouth. Another blow to her unbound legs.

           “Now, I would have though you’d be nicer by now.” Joker tuts. She mumbles into the concrete. Yanking her up by her hair, the pyscho tuts, “What was that?”

           “My Papa is going to kill you, puta.” She lunges forward, sinking her teeth into his nose. His yell of pain makes her bite harder, until he hits her again. His retreating footsteps give her her chance.

           A door slams open in front of her. She barrels forward into one of the henchmen. Tio Dick wouldn’t be impressed with her landing, but she’s thinking more about not dying. As she stumbles away, Dahlia brings her hands up then down to break the zipties digging into her skin. She uses the echo along the walls to figure out where Joker and his henchmen are. Her head starts spinning the more she tries to breathe.

Don’t pass out. If you do, you die. Dahlia repeats that to herself, listening to the henchmens’ yells as they search for her. Hiding behind what feels like wooden crates in a corner, she covers her mouth. Every breath feels like a stab, forcing her to fight back tears.

She’s going to die here. She’s going to die here. Maybe she’ll get lucky and come back. Like Tio Damian and Li-Li. Like Papa. Papa… He’s going to

           “Get back!” A henchman yells in pain.

           “Where is she?!” Dahlia looks up. Tio Dami?

           “Dahlia! We’re here!” Tio Dickie shouts, voice bouncing off the metal walls.

           “Dahlia! ¡¿Dónde estás?! ¡Estoy aquí! ¡Estoy aquí!”

           “Papá?” Dahlia whispers.

           “LLAMA!”

           Whimpering and holding her side, Dahlia pulls herself up. She leans against the wall as she limps towards the noise. “Papa...Papa…”

           “Ooo, lookit what the bat dragged in!” Joker cackles. Her father roars and she hears the familiar sound of fists against flesh. Forcing herself to take the next step, she focuses on the sound of her father’s hits. The way his voice cracks with the next yell.

           “WHERE IS SHE?”

           “Who?” Joker cackles, “Oh! The sightless bird? Ya know, I think she was around here somewhere—"

           “Papa…” She mumbles, mouth painfully dry. “Papa…”

           A body slams against metal walls, Papa snarling, “If you don’t tell me where the hell she is—”

           “Hood!” Tio Dickie. They’re here. They’re here for her. “Hood!”

           “WHA—" She can hear his breath catch. Another step, Dahlia, almost there. There’s a loud thud and pained laugh from Joker. Heavy footsteps run towards her. “LLAMA!”

           “Papa…Papa…” She reaches out for him, stumbling over her feet.

--

           As Dahlia stumbles, he lunges forward. Her whimper of pain as he eases her to the ground makes his teeth grit. Dark bruises blossom up her collar bone. Every breath she takes cracks. The fucker.

           “Dahlia?” He murmurs, pushing her hair from her face. Dahlia’s head falls against his chest, eyes drooping shut, “Llama. I’m here. I’ve got you…”

           “Papa…” She whimpers, “Hi, Papa…”

           “Ohhhhh, seems the little bird isn’t feeling too good.” Joker cackles. Damian presses his katana into Joker’s throat, drawing blood.

           “Redhood, she needs to go to the hospital.” Nightwing says. Jason fixes his gaze on the pyscho clown. His older brother grips his shoulder, “He’s not getting away with this. Not this time.”

           “We’ve got him.” Tim’s Red Robin voice used to piss him off. Now, Jason can hear the fire in his little brother’s voice. Hears the promise in it. Nodding, he lifts her up, like when she was little bitty.

           “Hold on, Dahli. You’re going to be okay. I promise. I promise.”

--

           He’s not sure how long it’s been. Time doesn’t pass normally here. He knows the nurses have changed shifts 8 times. Knows his brothers have called for updates three times. Knows the doctor has come by twice, taken her for tests too many times to count. The only thing keeping him sane is each beep of her heart monitor.

“‘People observe the colors of a day only at its beginnings and ends,’” The Book Thief isn’t his favorite book, but it’s the last one she had been reading. “‘but to me it's quite clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations with each passing moment. A single hour can consist of thousands of different colors--'”

Dahlia’s cloudy eyes fly open, hands reaching out in front of her, “Papa! Papa!”

The book drops from his grasp. He brings her hands to his face. Since he adopted her, touching someone’s face has always calmed her. Even with the scars and oddities of their family, their faces calm her. Frantic hands feel his face until she starts crying.  

“Estoy aquí, niña. Estoy aquí, te tengo,” Jason holds her close, kissing his daughter’s curls over and over, “Estás a salvo, Dahlia. Estás seguro.”

For a few minutes, Dahlia can’t speak as the cries wrack her body. He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know what she needs to hear. So, he holds her. Holds her and holds her and holds her tighter with each fresh cry—a terrible mix of pain and sorrow and fear.

“I-I’m s-s—”

“No. Dahli, no.” He lifts her hand back to his face, holding it there. “You don’t apologize for jack shit. Not for a damn thing.”

“I tr-tried-tried to st-stay bra-ave.” She hiccups, nails dig into his arm. “I-I tried.”

“I know. I know.” He hugs her tighter. “You’re alive. You’re alive, Dahli, that’s all I care about.”

The teenager cries in her father’s arms for hours.

And he doesn’t let go until she’s ready.

--

           It’s been two weeks. Dahlia had finally been released from the hospital with many follow up appointments with a new therapist. Her family had visited every day, Grace asking what the other guy looked like. Alfred sent her favorite desert. Her aunts made Papa go home for a day to shower and eat. Aside from that day, which Dahlia had to force him to agree to, Jason hadn’t left her side. All their visits remind her why she’s lucky to be apart of their family. Remind her why she wants to go home. Jason had offered to find them a new place, but Dahlia shot him down. She grew up in that apartment. Joker doesn’t get to take it from her.

She had just one stop she wanted to make first.

The electronic beeps and creak of the security door make her straighten up. Even his sour breath and cackle can’t phase her. He’s seen the bruises.

           Good.

           “Well, look what the bat dragged in.” Joker cackles.

           “Wow, thought the infamous Joker would be more original.” She raises an eyebrow. “Whole world of blind jokes and you go with ‘look.’”

           “See someone got their daddy’s bite.” The metal legs of his chair creak as he leans back. “Where’s he at? Thought all the Boy Blunders would have their kids under lock and key.”

           Leaning forward, Dahlia removes her sunglasses. Grace told her once that her cloudy, unfocused gray eyes unnerve people in the best way. More creaks in his chair as Joker adjusts himself.

           “I was nine when Papa told me what you did. Younger than that when I heard his nightmares, but nine was when I learned about the monster in my father’s head.” Dahlia keeps her voice even. “Growing up, I heard all the stories and rumors about you. Heard all the things you’ve done—to strangers, to your enemies, to my family. I heard all the horrible things you did--”

           “Nice story, but get to the point, sugar.”

           “My point is that every story about you makes you out to be a monster. Which is a fucking lie.”

           “That so?”

           “It is. You are a psychopath sure, but you rely on fear to keep your power. That’s how you keep your hold over people.” Dahlia smiles softly. “That ends now.”

           His laugh, the one that’s haunted her family for decades, deoesn’y even make her flinch. “And they say bats have no sense of humor! Oh, you’re killing me—"

           “No, but my papa will.”

           “Your family doesn’t kill—”

           “See, you’re right to a point. But you messed up when you hurt me—”

           “Always take the weakest—”

           “I’m not weak.” Her even voice breaks, years of her family building her up spilling through. “You messed up by thinking that. Signed your own death certificate.”

           “I’m so sc—”

           Dahlia cuts his sarcasm short with a wave of her hand, “You’re going to rot here. For years and years and years. You will rot and die here. If you ever step foot out of thise building, you will die. Papa will make sure of it.”

           Metal creaks as he leans forward. “Bold talk for a blind girl, sugar.”

           She leans forward, “I don’t need my eyes to see through your bullshit.”

           Clicking her tongue, she walks to the door. The Clown scoffs, “Really? That’s it?”

           Dahlia doesn’t answer.

           “Hey! I know you hear me! Hear me better than anyone else!”

           The door opens and a guard’s gentle hand wraps around her forearm.

           “I’ll see you on the other side, sugar! Just you wait!”

--

           His leg bounces as he waits for her. Jason still can’t understand why she needs to see him. Looking up as the door opens, Jason sees Dahlia thank the guard. The bruises along her arms, face and chest make his heart ache. But she wears them with pride.

           “Papa?” Dahlia clicks her tongue, walking towards him. Jason opens his arms for her. She walks into them without hesitation. The shuttering gasp she gives has him hold her tighter.

           “You get what you need, Nina?”

           She nods, gripping his jacket tighter, sniffling, “Thank you, Papa. Thank you for letting me do this.”

           “Dahlia Noelle Todd, no one lets you do anything. You do what you want and always have.” Jason chuckles, kissing her temple, “I’m proud of you. You know that? No one could have done what you just did. Estoy tan, tan orgulloso de ti, mija.”

           “Te amo, Papa.”

           “Te amo tambien.” Jason holds her face in his hands. Where did that scrappy two-year-old go? The one who babbled to a stranger about her missing toy, who ran to his arms when he’d get home, who’d sit on the counter while he’d make dinner. When did this young woman take her place? Jason just smiles, “You ready to go home, Llama?”

           “Depends.” Dahlia takes his arm as they walk down the hall, pulling her sunglasses down, “Is Grace going to be there?”

           “Pretty sure she and Asha have a whole party planned for you.”

           “Can’t wait to see this dumpster fire.”

           Jason chuckles, “That’s my girl.”

[movedthechangingman]

10, 13 any character you want, 14, 19, 22 and 23!!!!!!

yaaay

10. Most disliked arc? Why?

i answered ths for JLD but outside of that uh like...  whole damian intro like whatever m*rrisons thing caus now everyone hates talia

13. Unpopular opinion about XXX character?

z*tanna ISNT a perfect hashtag queen which is like the actual best part of her character she is a deeply flawed human being whos manipulated the minds of her own lover her colleagues and enemies in both pre flashpoint and new 52 and shes one of the only characters ive seen actually address the horrible things shes done. its honestly what makes her so interesting 

14. Unpopular opinion about your fandom?

i like the dc fandom generally like obviously theres some narsty folks but its a lot less ugly than it was in 2013 and ive met a lot more nice ppl w good takes like i know i say i stay on my dash but thats not really true lkajdgkljadg i have a lurker blog (DW I DONT LOOK AT THE BLOGS OF ANYONE I KNOW/ANYONE FOLLOWINGS ME ITS JUST FOR POPULAR ARTISTS IM SCARED TO INTERACT W) and there is trash but a lot less than i recall and its way less messy than my last fandoms (TREK HAD LEGIT N*ZI FUCKERS)

19. What is the one thing you hate most about your fandom?

i dont interact w batfandom much but like.. the batfam incesters

22. Popular character you hate?

answered last ask!!! ill do a deeper dive on this one i think d*ck t*m and d*mian are tragically overrated but damian and tim have the potential to be good characters at their basic concepts i feel (a child whos a reminder of bruces love for talia - ive done a massive essay on this but i dont want to post it on main) and a child genius obsessed w the batman to the point of uncovering his identity... if tim pulled a carrie instead of like blackmailing them i think i would have less issues w his basic introduction and also this sounds insane bc i know im notorious for calling him a homophobe but a lot of tims problems would be solved if he was openly Not attracted to women

23.Unpopular character you love?

flex and before you go “but the doompat!” i mean flex mentallo as the actual character from the solo not just the doompat character whos in 3 issues guy (i didnt read young animal caus i think gee way is a hack when it comes to comix (I LOVE HIM BUT HES A HACK) i will do it eventually) i think its probably my fave of anything ive suffered through by m*rrison altho animal man was solid. i think the idea of a fictional man in a real world is really interesting... a pure hero when the superhero world is getting dark....... a creation who can save his own creator. BRILLIANT! . this blog was flex mentallo themed blog before i read shade

[the-fahc-golden-boy]

“You’re Shorter Than I Imagined” Chapter 2

Since it looks like I’m getting good reviews from here and on AO3, I’ll post this second chapter!

Pairing(s): Jeremy/Gavin Michael/Ryan Geoff/Jack

Read it on AO3 if you’d like: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20008159

~~~~~

“You can’t keep avoiding him forever, sooner or later you’ll have to stop being a pussy and just say hi.” Michael crossed his arms, the beer he’d been nursing was sitting on the coffee table.

“But Micooool,” Gavin dragged out the ooo as much as possible. “He’s new, and you know I don’t like new people. New people are weeeeeeeird.”

Michael reached for his beer and knocked it all back in one shot, never really wanting to be sober while dealing with a drunk Gavin. (Gavin wasn’t actually drunk, just slightly buzzed, but he was just always this annoying)

“You whine too much, y’know that?” He playfully smacked Gavin across the shoulder, startling Gavin enough that he spilled his drink all over his lap. “Want a little cheese with all that wine?” He broke out laughing, just enjoying the pout on Gavin’s face.

“You don’t know anything about this “Jeremy” so why are you so relaxed around him?” Gavin set his drink down on the table, then went on a search for napkins. 

“Actually I do know him,”

That got Gavin’s attention; he paused where he was dapping away at the spill on the couch cushions. “You wot?”

“We went to high school together, he was on the wrestling team and I hung out with him a couple times at some parties. Nothing big,” Michael just shrugged and attempted to drink again from his empty bottle, scowling at the offending object.

At this new information Gavin just gawked. Everyone seemed to know Jeremy well enough now that they weren’t afraid of anything he could do. Ryan said he was feisty, Jack said he was brave, Geoff said he was stupid, and Matt just said he was a person. (Some help Matt was, for supposedly being his best friend he didn’t have much dirt on him.)

“He’s just a guy who has horrible fashion taste and like monster trucks maybe a little too much. Just talk to him and get it over with.” Michael’s phone suddenly went off, blaring out Viva La Vida, which Gavin knew to be the ringtone he had set for Ryan.

“I’ll let you take that call, boi.” Michael gave Gavin a quick nod in thanks before he got up and left the room.

As far as Gavin knew, Jeremy had never seen him in person yet, and all Gavin had seen of his was the purple and orange blurs from security footage he was watching during their missions and heists. (Actually that was a lie, Gavin had done some digging online to learn more about Jeremy and had seen the warrant out for his arrest online for stealing a monster truck from a rally of all things).

Gavin had decided that maybe getting up the courage to talk to him might not be such a bad idea. In fact, Gavin decided that he was going to invite Jeremy out for drinks and get to know him!

The only downside to this brilliant idea, was that Gavin had no idea how to contact Jeremy about this offer. Sure he had easily figured out Jeremy’s phone number, but even he wasn’t dense enough to know you don’t just text a stranger asking them out for drinks.

The only thing Gav could do was the one thing he was afraid of, actually talking to Jeremy in person.

It’s one thing for drunk Gavin to talk to strangers. Drunk Gavin was mouthy and smooth, and had little to no filter. Drunk Gavin had too much confidence and ended up picking fights with guys twice his size all because he could.

The other thing that terrified Gavin about meeting new people, was that one first phrase they’d say to each other. That one first phrase that could turn out matching the writing on his arm.

He had seen Michael’s, the words Not on my watch Mogar splayed out on his forearm. When Michael had first shown him, it was long before Ryan had joined the crew, long before they had even considered that the Vagabond had human feelings.

Michael had explained that when he left New England he had used Mogar as a cover name all because of how he liked the sound of it after he read the word on his arm. Mogar was the name of a warrior, and that’s all Michael ever wanted to be.

It wasn’t until two years later when Gavin was able to witness firsthand the meeting between two soulmates. 

He had been watching through a series of security cameras on his double monitor setup. Keeping an eye on Geoff, Jack, and Michael. Every now and then he’d feed directions through the comms, helping his crew out when they needed it.

But Gavin had noticed something dark following Michael; had watched this almost shadow stalk him through the alleyways and side streets. He watched as Michael passed under a street light, and just as he was about to change cameras, he noticed the shadow pass under that same light. Watched in horror as he realized that Michael, his boi, was being made prey to the biggest predator of the city, The Vagabond.

“MICHAEL WATCH OUT”

But it was too late, Michael had turned around too slow, had been knocked upside the head by the Vagabond. Gavin looked on in horror, a silent observer to his friend’s fate.

“So this is how I go.” Micheal’s voice was stoic; and to anyone who didn’t know him, they’d have said he was even brave. Gavin knew better though, knew that Michael’s voice had a hint of resignation in it.

He watched as Michael closed his eyes, accepting his fate. But the finishing blow never came, in fact the Vagabond seemed to be shocked.

Gavin could only barely hear the Vagabond’s voice as he spoke out in a pained, and slightly guilt riddled whisper, “Not on my watch Mogar” 

Michael looked relieved, and Gavin watched as the Vagabond picked him up and carefully slung him over his shoulder. The Vagabond turned around and looked directly up at the security camera Gavin had hacked into. He gave a slight wave and mumbled into Michael’s comm, “Sorry ‘bout your friend, pick him up at the docks tomorrow morning. I promise he’ll be alive.”

Gavin watched as he walked off, struggling slightly under Michael’s weight.

The next morning Geoff, Jack, and Gavin were all at the docks waiting. Gavin had explained what happened, even telling them that the Vagabond had said the words that were printed on Michael’s arm.

An hour later Ryan pulled up with a slightly battered, but alive, Michael, and Jack and Geoff made their choice. They offered him a spot in the crew, and the Vagabond was shocked, but Michael had given him a nudge and that was all it took.

Gavin wasn’t really afraid of meeting his soulmate, he was just afraid of his soulmate not actually liking him.

He had been told several times that he wasn’t exactly likeable, that he was hard to get along with, that he was just an asshole that they all put up with. The crew told him they were joking, but it was hard to take it to heart when the words on his arm read “So you’re the fucker I’m stuck with”

Those words had always been a stab to his heart, knowing that his soulmate wouldn’t like him, knowing that whatever he’s going to say to his soulmate is going to trigger such a painful reaction. That was the real reason he didn’t like meeting new people.

He never wanted to see the look of hurt and anger cross over the face of the person he was supposed to be perfect for. It made him jealous of everyone else, that they all had some kind of heroic first meeting, or something sweet and simple.

Matt’s arm read “The best hacker? Clever” And that had made him even more jealous, obviously someone admired Matt’s skills enough that it was how they even knew him before they met!

“Thanks for the offer Jeremy, but you know I don’t drink.” Gavin sat up abruptly, not even realizing he was still sat on the couch in the penthouse. A wave of panic hit him as he realized that the Jeremy Ryan was talking to was the same Jeremy that Gavin had been avoiding meeting yet.

The same Jeremy Gavin was planning on asking if he wanted to go get absolutely hammered with him tonight.

He watched as Ryan rounded the corner with his usual “duffel bag of doom” slung over his shoulder. Gavin gave him a small wave that Ryan returned with a middle finger. Yep, just the usual greeting.

He held his breath as he saw Jeremy round the corner. His purple and orange ensemble a much worse eye sore in person than on camera. His cowboy hat had been forgotten at the door and he was carrying a similar bag to Ryan’s, only a different color scheme that matched his whole “Rimmy Tim” persona.

Jeremy apparently hadn’t seen him since he just kept on trucking down the hallway after Ryan, and at this Gavin let out a sigh of relief.

At least he could keep putting this off until the last minute.

[meadowmines]

MAG64-68

In which I go on several face journeys in the middle of a laundromat. This one’s a long, wild ride, lads. Buckle up.

MAG64: Weird Shit of the Week, in The Buried flavor? ...wait, no, there were dice. That would be The End, except it’s dealing with something that can’t seem to die. Whatever. Jon being all “lul that’s what u get for giving me a statement about mummies” was delightful.

MAG65: oof. The Obligatory Creepypasta Episode but this is the one that had me making this face at the laundromat:

One thing, though--as I’ve mentioned, by now I can usually pin down what Entity is responsible for any given instance of Weird Shit of the Week pretty well, but this one stumped me and I Did Not Like That No Sir Not One Bit. My first thought was The Corruption. Yeah, sure, glitchy text and computer viruses are a whole different kind of “corruption” than we usually see associated with that gross fucker but it still kinda fits, especially considering the thing where it spread to other devices? But also a little bit of The Spiral, with the Ushanka chatbots’ tendencies to start off normal and then descend into batshit and the subject being the only one able to see any of this particular one? And a little bit of The Flesh, maybe, given the goings-on in the video and maybe depending on how gross a version of the Ushanka creepypasta you read?

So I just went to the wiki to do my customary post-listen read and also see if I could get some clarification on that and, well...

Short answer: no. 

Slightly longer answer: no and also The What Now?

So here I am making that Bloo face all over again because there is so very much about this case that I do not like at all and the apparent introduction of a whole new Entity that hasn’t come up before is giving me a serious case of what one of the ladies in the choir with me would refer to as “the wim-wams.”

And the cherry on this sundae is the thing where Jon went fishing for statements from techies for the express purpose of getting someone in to unlock Gertrude’s laptop, Jon, you sly dog, that was brilliant.

And then... Tim. oooooooof. I mean. On the one hand, yes, Jon, you have been kind of an asshole lately, granted not entirely without good reason, but you have still been kind of an asshole lately. And I do not blame Tim the least little bit for being Done With Your Shit.

On the other... literal chills when Jon invited Tim to quit and he couldn’t. God, this whole episode was a powerhouse.

MAG66: Oh goody, Mikaele Salesa is on his bullshit again. Well, I mean, he did warn the guy but still. ...waitaminnit. Lukas again. This has something to do with the Tundra from back in--whatever episode that was with the creepy ship full of empty shipping containers. What the fuck, man.

...son of a bitch, Gertrude was buying Leitners. And burning a lot of things in a lot of places, possibly other Archives? And deliberately obfuscating her filing system. What the fuck. What the fuck.

MAG67: Oh good, Agnes Montague again. I guess I should update my Name That Entity guide to add her name to The Desolation. Anyway. Sorry you got horny for the girl that burns shit, buddy. But. The tree falling. Yep, THAT tree falling.  Hooo shit.

The statement was interesting especially with that connection but it’s the supplemental that set off the alarm bells, that one line from Elias: “You know how hard it would be to replace you.” 

oh??? 

And Jon’s “uh thanks I guess but I rly don’t?” reaction. 

No, Elias, Jon doesn’t know how hard it would be to replace him and neither do we, would you care to enlighten us??? hmm????¿

So. Elias has just rocketed straight to the top of my “shady motherfuckers to keep an eye on” list. Yes, he just knocked Not-Sasha out of the top spot. Not-Sasha is just an archival assistant, just doing whatever a Not-Person does for lulz, at least that’s the impression I get (also breaking a lot of the Institute’s computers HELLO JON DO THE FUCKING MATH ALREADY). Elias, though. Position of authority. Been there a loooooong time. Clearly knows a lot more about a lot of things than he’s letting on. SEEMS TO KNOW SOMETHING ABOUT JON THAT JON DOESN’T KNOW ABOUT HIMSELF. 

MAG68: Creepy books? Ah shit, did this guy find a Leitner--OH GODDAMMIT NOT JOHN AMHERST’S NASTY ASS AGAIN

...wait, what leaked cases from 1999? That sounds interesting.

JON FFS. The computers breaking. The “””lost””” tape from Ms. Ten Thousand Worms In A Trenchcoat’s siege on the Institute. The missing recordings. (Not-)Sasha not wanting to be recorded. Melanie referring to “the new girl.” That table in Artifact Storage and the statements YOU YOUR OWN SELF recorded that had to do with it. Stock Photo Tom. And now for whatever reason you have actually gotten an itty bitty peek behind Not-Sasha’s mask, YOU HAVE ALL THE PIECES RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF YOU, PUT THE DAMN PUZZLE TOGETHER!

[aion-rsa]

I Think You Should Leave Season 2: Ranking Every Sketch

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

How on Earth did we survive two years without new episodes of Netflix’s brilliant sketch comedy series I Think You Should Leave with Tim Robinson? The first batch of six episodes premiered on April 23 of 2019 and proved instantly iconic. 

Contained within the season’s roughly two-dozen sketches was absolutely hilarious and essential comedy that provided ample memetic kindling for the internet’s conversational fire. For the focused enough mind, it’s entirely possible to communicate with one’s friends exclusively in I Think You Should Leave memes. Lord knows, I’ve tried it.

Thankfully, ITYSL season 2 has finally arrived on Netflix after its COVID-19 delay. It features 28 sketches that range from “pretty funny” to “I can’t stop laughing. Oh God, I can’t stop laughing. It hurts, surely this is the end. Surely, I will die.”

Check out our rankings below and then begin yelling at our chances like Spectrum is dropping your network.

28. Credit Card Roulette

If nothing else, Tim Robinson and I Think You Should Leave co-creator Zach Kanin are incredible comedy scouts. Through two seasons, the show’s sketches have been a who’s who of up-and-coming comedic talent, like the wonderful John Early who is featured in this sketch. Unfortunately Early is not served well by the material here, which doesn’t rise to the same ludicrous heights as season 2’s other sketches. The best moment is Early’s immediate resolve that he’s not paying the bill, but the sketch doesn’t go too far after that. 

27. Dave’s Poop Double

The sketch that serves as the cold open of season 2’s final episode doesn’t get things off to the best start. The concept of Tim’s “Luka” hiring a guy who looks just like his coworker Dave to take monster shits every time he gets up is certainly fun but missing an important layer of added absurdity. Luka is probably the best name for any of Robinson’s random characters yet though.

26. Little Buff Boys Pt. 2

Season 2 features many more callbacks to previous sketches than the first season did. This followup to Little Buff Boys is the worst of the bunch but still quite funny. Perhaps the only thing more absurd than a Little Buff Boys competition is someone being proud of running “one of” the biggest LBB competitions in the Greater Cincinnati area. This sketch also passes up an easy Cincinnati Chili joke in favor of creating the truly vile “cherry chuck salad.”

25. Detective Crashmore Trailer

This trailer for action thriller Detective Crashmore is funny enough on its own but doesn’t reach another comedic level until the AOL Blast interview two sketches later. Still, I unironically want to see an action film with a lead character whose main quip is “Eat fucking bullets, you fuckers. You fucking suck. You fucking SUCK!”

24. I Should Have Got That

I Think You Should Leave deserves a big spread in AARP magazine. No other sketch show revels in the talents of older comedians quite like this one. After 81-year-old comedian Ruben Rabasa stole the show in season 1, season 2 ups the ante with many more sketches letting old folks shine. It’s Bob McDuff Wilson’s turn this time around and his child-like obsession with his student’s burger kills right up until the shockingly dark kicker.

23. Office Surfing

“I almost killed myself, Jullliieeeeee” is one of the best line-reads of the season. The sketch it’s built around isn’t too remarkable but man, does Robinson knock that one out of the park. 

22. “No, I Don’t Know How to Drive”

This is a quickie but a goodie. Robinson’s characters break down in tears quite often this season and this is one of the better occasions. How far have Tim’s characters come – from reveling in the existence of four-wheeled motorcycles to looking at the inside of a car and weeping “I don’t know what any of this shit is and I’m fucking scared.”

21. The Capital Room

Speaking of top tier comedic talent, thank God Patti Harrison stopped by another season of I Think You Should Leave. This time around, we get two heaping doses of Patti. This one, the first of the two, is the inferior but still quite great. In the span of roughly 30 seconds, Harrison unveils the saga of a woman who A. Got sewn into the pants of the Thanksgiving Day parade Charlie Brown float, B. Hates all bald boys, C. Sued the city and won a fortune, D. Is now helplessly addicted to wine, and E. Is tragically self-aware that her money will run out soon.

20. But It’s Lunch

Just like last year’s opening sketch, “But It’s Lunch” (this is probably a good time to mention, that I’m naming all of these things myself. You could very easily call this the Hotdog sketch but that would confuse it with last year’s hotdog sketch) sets the perfect opening mood. The sight gag of Robinson’s Pat trying to stealthily eat a hotdog is wonderful, and the fact that things so quickly escalate to hotdog surgery and puke is just sublime. 

19. Carber Hotdog Vacuum

The follow-up to “But It’s Lunch” occurs a full two episodes later and proves to be a hell of a pay-off. Robinson’s unnamed character (who is obviously Pat) very quickly reveals that there is one very specific reason he made this hotdog vacuum invention and you’ll never guess what it was. We all make mistakes. We shouldn’t be fired for them.

18. Insider Trading Trial (Stupid Hat)

This sketch somewhat mimics the experience of trying to explain what I Think You Should Leave is like to someone who has never seen it. “So, this guy took too small a slice of toilet paper…” or “…and then he has to have to have sex with his mother-in-law.” “Insider Trading” rotely describes the bizarre behaviors of one of Robinson’s deeply strange characters, Brian, as it’s being read into the court record. Brian and his stupid fedora with the safari flaps is in attendance to provide a visual aid. As are some hilarious flashbacks in which Brian attempts to roll the hat down his arm like Fred Astaire and instead encounters only wheelchair grease. 

17. The Ice Cream Store is Closed Today

Before he was a criminal lawyer, Bob Odenkirk was one of the most legendary sketch writers of all time. It’s only fitting that he stop by ITYSL season 2 to provide his comedic blessing. Odenkirk is great from the get-go but this one doesn’t really get rolling until the end when Robinson finds himself truly immersed in the fictional life of this sad old man. “His wife’s sick but she’s gonna get better” is a shockingly emotional moment amid pure farce.

16. Barbie and the Blues Brothers

This is the sketch that climbed the most in my rankings upon a second viewing. What first seemed to be a waste of Conner O’Malley’s manic comedic energy became a semi-classic once I submitted to its strange vibes. I don’t even know what to call this one but Robinson’s character refusing to stop dancing as Barbie the dog melts down is hilarious. O’Malley is better served by last season’s “honk if you’re horny” sketch, still he gets some bangers in this time around like “She thinks he’s a whole new guy because of the glasses and the hat” and “it’s her house, she’s doing what’s right!” Robinson once again closes this nonsense out with some well-earned tears. “It’s just me, Barbie. I’m not the Blues Brothers.”

15. Jaime Taco (I Love My Wife)

“Jamie Taco” is a prime example of just how rapidly (and how well) I Think You Should Leave is able to veer into pure nonsensical genius. At the top, this sketch comes perilously close to making an actual statement about how men are too quick to pretend like their wives are horrible nags. This sketch, however, has its sights set on something much dumber…and therefore better. Our hero (played hilariously by Richard Jewell’s Paul Walter Hauser) loves his wife because she helped him through his darkest moment, which just so happens to be when snotty young actor Jamie Taco refused to let him say his Henchman lines in a play.

14. Comos Restaurant 

All hail the return of the great Tim Heidecker! Heidecker, of Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job! fame, is one of the few comedians with a strange enough sensibility to be reasonably seen as an I Think You Should Leave forerunner. His season 1 turn as a walnut-obsessed jazz douche is a classic and this one reaches similar heights. This time, Heidecker’s character, Gary, and his lovely date, Janeane (Tracey Birdsall), have good reason to be annoyed by their date night at the sci-fi cosmos restaurant being interrupted by some hacky jokes. Of course, they use this opportunity to reveal that Jeannine’s mom used to drink puke for the Davy and Rascal radio show to pay for school supplies. It’s oddly refreshing to have a Heidecker character given a game partner and Gary and Janeane make one great team.

13. Detective Crashmore Interivew

While the Detective Crashmore trailer is the setup, this interview with AOL Blast is the punchline. Detective Crashmore is played by Santa Claus, because why not? Actor Biff Wiff’s gruff, nasally Midwestern timber is the perfect accent to accompany this lunacy. This is a Santa who in one breath demands to be taken seriously as an actor (Billy Bob Thornton-style) and in the next admits to seeing everyone in the world’s dick.

12. Sloppy Steaks (I Used to Be a Piece of Shit)

From here on out, it’s nothing but absolute homeruns. “Sloppy Steaks” could very well have been number one on this list and few would have batted an eye. The setup here is amazing as it gives Tim Robinson a reason to essentially have beef with a baby. The baby cries because he knows Robinson used to be a piece of shit. But don’t babies understand that people can change? That’s funny enough to begin with, but the real gut-busting moment here is the reveal of what “being a piece of shit” really means. In this case it means slicking one’s hair back and dousing the steaks at Truffoni’s with water to make sloppy steaks.

11. Johnny Carson Impersonator

Just a quick rundown for those who are confused…

Johnny Carson = Can Hit. George Kennedy = Can’t Hit. George Bush = Can’t Hit. 

10. Driving School (Her Job is Tables)

This is the rare I Think You Should Leave sketch that actually provides an answer to all the lunacy. As Robinson’s character’s Driver’s Ed class watches Patti Harrison’s actress in some dated videos, they can’t help but wonder what she does for a living. “Tables,” Robinson answers over and over again. This would be funny enough on its own but the reveal that Harrison provides tables to Monster Cons is a rare and valuable moment of “Ohhhhh that’s why” for this show. Equally as valuable is Harrison, who really sells that those tables are her lifeblood.

9. Claire’s Ear-Piercings

One has to wonder how much time goes into choosing the perfect “order” for the sketches in I Think You Should Leave. Two seasons in a row now, the show has selected pitch perfect opening and closing sketches. This closing number is oddly melancholic as the Claire’s orientation video for girls who want to get their ears pierced somehow gives way to one 58-year-old man named Ron Tussbler’s existential dread. If we really get to see the “highlights” after we die, forcibly fake laughing every ten minutes to make the voyeuristic experience all the richer sounds like a good strategy and not sad at all. Hang in there, Ron.

8. Little Buff Boys Competition

What. A. Crop. It was a virtual certainty that ITYSL season 2 would feature a spiritual successor to the classic “Baby of the Year” sketch in season 1. Thank God “Little Buff Boys” is up to the challenge of replicating that magic. This one has all the right elements to be another hit: Sam Richardson (in a wig this time, no less), a grand pageant hall, and some precocious youths. Troll Boy also joins the canon of young ITYSL characters who everybody instinctively hates alongside Bart Harley Jarvis.

7. Tammy Craps

There’s something weirdly nefarious about this commercial for a poisonous doll that doesn’t have farts in her head anymore. It’s a criticism of late stage capitalism crossed with the cursed nature of the Annabelle movies…while not being like either of those things at all. In reality, this is just another absurdist concept sprung from the terrifying inner depths of the writing staff’s mind. It also happens to be a particularly great one. The girl weighing her clothes down with rocks so she can hit the magical 60-pound threshold to safely play with Tammy Craps is one of the best gags of the season.

6. Karl Havoc

“Little Buff Boys Competition” and another upcoming sketch are likely to produce the lion’s share of memes and quotes from this season of ITYSL. But the one quote that’s stuck in my mind most aggressively comes from this hilarious episode 1 clip. The sight of Robinson’s Carmine Laguzio posing as the dead-faced freakshow Karl Havoc and muttering “I don’t want to be around anymore” is quite simply one of the funniest things I’ve ever witnessed. This is a marvelous, unnerving, utterly hilarious sketch. That there are somehow five better sketches speaks to how strong this season is. 

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5. Dan Flashes Pt. 1 (Office)

I Think You Should Leave is now two for two in introducing the most cutting edge items in men’s fashion. Season 1 featured the arrival of the highly practical TC Tugger shirt. Now season 2 ups the ante with the stylish Dan Flashes. This sketch succeeds because it takes a simple question “Why is Mike laying down during a business meeting?” and divines the most outlandish answer possible. Mike isn’t eating because he’s spending all his money on Dan Flashes shirts. 

4. Dan Flashes Pt. 2 (Hotel Menu)

It’s one thing to introduce a hilarious concept, it’s another thing entirely to put it into practice. This second entry into the Dan Flashes canon is amazing. Back in part 1, it seemed as though the intricate patterns on the Dan Flashes shirts have a hypnotic effect on men who look exactly like Tim Robinson. Seeing the reality of that – pasty men battling one another to get their credit cards to the cashier before the other – is truly hilarious stuff.

3. Coffin Flop

This is the second sketch of the entire season…the second! And holy shit, does it set a strong precedent for what’s to come. This impassioned message from the Corncob TV CEO for Spectrum to save his network and its precisely one television program is a masterclass in shock humor. Watching body after body busting out of shit wood somehow never loses its grim luster. Somehow, in a sketch that features dozens of naked corpses flopping to the ground unexpectedly, it’s Robinson’s monologue that hits the hardest. “This world is so fucked up. And people are mad at me because I showed a bunch of naked dead bodies with their spread blue butts flying out of boxes? Really?”

2. Calico Cut Pants

Every episode of I Think You Should Leave season 2 features five sketches save for episode 4 which has only three. And that’s because episode 4 is dominated by a near 10-minute epic called “Calico Cut Pants.” In many ways, Calico Cut Pants is the platonic ideal of an ITYSL sketch. It takes place in a nightmarish world where every bizarre action only leads to an even more bizarre reaction. Nothing ever cools down. There is always something stranger on the horizon.

In this instance, Mike O’Brien (longtime SNL writer and the creator of the terminally underrated comedy A.P. Bio) plays an office drone who enters into a living hell merely because his co-worker helps him out of a mildly annoying social jam. Robinson’s character introduces him to a website that advertises pants with piss stains on them. That’s all well and good but once you know about Calicocutpants.com you Always. Have. To. Give. It’s like PBS, but more demonic. This remarkable sketch includes everything that’s great about this show, right down to characters with inexplicable idiosyncrasies like Tim Robinson’s adamance that doors must always be held open for him.

1. Ghost Tour

The funniest moment in ITYSL season 2 (and maybe the funniest moment in the history of the world) occurs in this sketch. Tim Robinson’s character has been admonished for his potty mouth during a ghost tour over and over again. The tour guide even said he’s ruining his job. But this poor man sincerely cannot understand why he’s in trouble. This is a tour for adults and he’s following the rules by using adult language. Like any good Robinson character, he truly believes that he’s the sane one and it’s the rest of the world that’s taking crazy pills.

So in his darkest moment, the man musters up his strength through tears and delivers the following query:

“Not trying to be funny. Not trying to get a laugh. I don’t want anybody to have the worst day at their job. But. Do any of these….fuckers….ever blast out of the wall and have, like a huge cum shot?”

Cue: riotous, damn near apocalyptic laughter. What a treasure and blessing this whole show is.

I Think You Should Leave season 2 is available to stream on Netflix now.

The post I Think You Should Leave Season 2: Ranking Every Sketch appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[cbk1000]

MY LOVELY ANON REVIEWER IS BACK:

HOLY SHIT. That was excellent. Starting from the beginning, I just wanted to say that I'm so impressed by the detail and the hard work and all the reading and researching that went into your writing. You can really tell how much time you spend on your research and how much you're interested in the theme. It's driving me mad that people like you work this hard over their writing for no profit while people who get paid to write for TV don't bother to do a 30 seconds Google search. I think it's not necessary to mention any names here lmao. Let me just start by saying that I love Klaus with all my heart. I get very attached to all the characters, but that fucker takes the first place no matter what the setting. "He picks up the pistol on his table, holding his charcoal in the other hand, and shoots the man in the face." HOW CAN YOU NOT LOVE HIM? He might be human in this AU, but he's every bit as fucked up as he is as a 1000 year old hybrid. I also think you nailed his expressions and thought process, I might not know how to put in words what I think he's thinking, but then I read something like this: "He likes to lick his lips before he says something. He can't just say it: there has to be a pause, there has to be a waiting, all the world must have bent their ear to his genius, and with bated breath grovel for his insight." and I'm like YES YES THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I PICTURED. If that makes any sense lol I adore his banter with Enzo, I guess those two will never like each other, but that's what makes their interactions so golden. I cannot wait to read about him, Enzo, and Caroline living together, oh my God that will be hilarious. AND HIM AND CAROLINE! When you wrote about him drawing her and then her seeing the drawings at the end of the chapter and him not wanting her to see them and being embarrassed, and him being nervous while she looks at his artwork- I CANNOT. "Two extraordinary heads are better than one, wouldn't you agree, love?" Yes, I agree, now go live together and fall in love already. A part of why I love their relationship so much is the fact that Klaus is such a creeper. BUT. Call him out on it and he'll somehow find a way to prove you wrong and compliment himself in the same time (you can see he's related to Kol): "Let's not call it that; bit ugly, wouldn't you say, love? Let's say instead, admiring from afar, shall we?... I am the most brilliant criminal of every generation, after all. A true Napoleon of crime, you might say.." Shuuuut uuuuup, but also I love you. TIM AND KOL. Holy crap I forgot how awesome they are (jk I could never forget). They're slowly starting their relationship and it's BEAUTIFUL. I like how you included Tim being a Dickens fan, a little Easter egg from The Originals series. One of my favorite parts is the one when they go in groups of two to see if the murderer will appear (and obvs Kol has to be in whichever group Tim is), and they talk about how Kol brought 3 guns with him, Tim acts shocked and surprised, and then reveals two of his own guns in his coat and one in his boots. "He may be in love." Same, Kol. ALSO! Tim is such a sweetheart? Case in point: he apologizes for being to tall to play a prostitute, he asked a woman who was attacked if she was okay and gave her his coat while in the middle of a chase etc. And that scene when they found the dead woman's mutilated body and Tim's reaction, broke my heart. Where do I fill out adoption papers? One more thing: I've said this a thousand times and I will say it again, the friendship between Kol and Caroline remains my favorite ever, especially in small moments such as: "Hello darling," he says, and unwinding his scarf, leans over to kiss her cheek. He rests his chin on her head." It's just a small scene that shows how much they care for each other, and I thought it was very lovely and cute. Now, I wanna know who the murderer is SOOO BAAD. I have a few theories who it might be: a) Klaus (that would be a real plot twist am I right), b) Rebekah (since she's the only one of the Originals who hasn't made an appearance) or c) Stefan, maybe? He is the Ripper after all. Also, the all knowing narrator who makes an appearance a few times to "set the mood" is really interesting to me, too. BASICALLY I NEED ANSWERS. All in all, I enjoyed myself SO MUCH reading this, and I can't wait to read the third part, thank you so much for updating, this is literally the best timing ever LMAO.

I don’t know if you ever visit this blog, but if you do, I love you, and also I too am salty that certain unnamed people who write for TV can’t bother to do 30 second Google searches when amateur writers can look up Victorian shoe charts for a passing reference in their unpaid boner.

[twoinchreview]

1985 Albums

Friday 20th March 2020.

On the way home from work (for the last time in a while I think, thanks Covid-19) Radio 2 played The Whole of the Moon by The Waterboys. I loved and love that song from their album, This is the Sea. I knew the album was released in 1985. It’s a year I won’t forget in a hurry for lots of reasons; the main, unbearably sad one is losing my mum, but, also, for other reasons that were not at all sad. The aforementioned album being one, another being another album - Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love. (Another was Knebworth opening its gates to music for the first time in a few years….what a gig that was!) So, did I listen to any other albums that year? I seriously couldn’t tell you, for certain, the name of any other album released in that year….with aging memory it seems to me my turntable’s time was equally divided by Mike Scott and Kate - six months apiece. I decided to check it out. A quick search on Google and the first hit I clicked was this one from the NME that lists 50 albums.

I decided to listen to each in turn, from its count of 50 down to 1. I posted a one line review on each on FB. Here are those one-liners below, with supplementary comments as and when.

50.  ABC, How to be a Zillionaire. I didn't learn that actual trick but I did learn to love Martin Fry's delivery once again.

49.  Sade, Promise. Smoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooth.

48.  Sheila E – Romance 1600. One I missed posting about of FB, probably because it was that forgettable. I can’t remember one track from it and it was only a couple of weeks ago!

47.  Alex Chilton, Feudalist Tarts. Who knew? Seriously never heard of him before!

46.  George Clinton, Some of My Best Jokes Are Friends. Funky. Another new one on me.

45. The Replacements, Tim. Never heard or heard of them b4 today. Shan't bother again!

44.  Run DMC, King of Rock. Dunno why I like this album, just do. It's like that and that's the way it is.

43.  Cameo, Single Life. I've already forgotten about it.

42.  New Order, Low Life. The first album on NME's 1985 list that properly rocks all thru. 

It’s a proper ‘of its time’ album and yet timeless. This gets the bold review ‘cos I would definitely take time out to listen to this again. First one of the NME list!

41.  Robert Wyatt, Old Rottenhat. Out there. A defo doob album.

40.  The Style Council, Our Favourite Shop. I recall this album & it's better than it was.  Weller has a voice that sometimes sounds like it’s going to break at the sterner test but then he carries it off. It adds to the originality.

39.  Sonic Youth, Bad Moon Rising. Proper industrial punk. I like it.

38.  Dexys Midnight Runners, Don't Stand Me Down. Not one track had I heard before. Fab.

I really enjoyed this. I like the fact it’s a real deviation from what I remember Dexys for - all denim and oddly-antifashion fashionable. This album showed real confidence in their own ability, quite rightly.

37.  Husker Du, New Day Rising. 'Salright.

36.  Bobby Womack, So Many Rivers. “Let Me Kiss You Where It Hurts.” 😂😂😂 Yep - the only thing I wanted to post about this album, having listened to it (like so many others, for the first time) was the name of one track which still, as I type, makes be chuckle like a school boy. Sorry Bobby.

35.  The Fall, This Nation's Saving Grace. I never really got The Fall. This album doesn't help. This post on FB attracted some comment - Ralph White (fellow Posh and music fan) was, I sensed, a little perplexed at my opinion. But, I can’t lie, the band, and Mark E Smith, just didn’t, and still don’t, do it for me. I’m too old and long in the tooth to persist. Sorry Ralph.

34.  Propaganda, A secret Wish. If you had to guess the time of this album's release from its sound, it couldn't be anything other than slap bang middle of the 80s. I mean it is sooooo eighties. It’s the sort of record that will be used for educational purposes - in history lessons.

33. Scritti Politti, Cupid & Psyche 85. I feel I should be more impressed than I am.

32.  The Pogues, Rum, Sodomy and the Lash. What an album, what a fucking album.

I listened to this while out walking and it really took me by surprise just how much I enjoyed it. Of course, I’d heard a lot of the songs before but, as a collection, along with the tracks new to me, it really stands out.  

31.  The Cure, Head on the Door. The Cure does easy listening.

30.  The Cult, Love. What's there not to love? No sudden death, just love.

Contains one of my favourite all time tracks. Can you guess?

29.  Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, The Firstborn is Dead. Interesting. Definitely a band you have to be in the right mood before the needle hits the record.

28.  David Sylvian, Alchemy: An Index Of Possibilities. Music to have acupuncture to.

By that, I mean it was very, very, very Japanese-y.

27.  Suzanne Vega, Suzanne Vega. Singer song writing by numbers.

To be perfectly blunt, I found it boring.

26.  The Smiths, Meat is Murder. The Smiths are an enigma to me. Good music, good musicians but, that condescension. Morrissey, Geldof, Thunberg....peas in a high & mighty pod.

All that being said a few days ago now, I’m sure I’ll listen to this (and maybe other a records of theirs) again. I fucking hate that it was that good.

25.  Bryan Ferry, Boys and Girls. Slick as you like. Is he the coolest man in music? I think he is.

24.  10000 Maniacs, The Wishing Chair. I can take this or leave it. When I posted this on FB there were a couple of posters encouraging me to try In My Tribe - it’s on as I type and it’s a little better.

23.  Whitney Houston, Whitney Houston. I like this debut album. What a voice she had!

22.  A-Ha, Hunting High and Low. Not bad song writing in a second language.

Nice enough album...but this band will always just be ‘nice’ and, memorable for a video, not much else. 

21.  Grace Jones, Slave to the Rhythm. A mess of an album.

Worst one on the list so far even if it has got David Gilmour playing on it.

20.  Simple Minds, Once Upon a Time. I always felt, & feel, this band are wannabes to U2's crown. Nice enough album though.

19.  The Colourfield, Virgins and Philistines. A gem of an album. 

Terry Hall reminds me of Bowie. So talented, so prolific.

18.  Everything but the Girl, Love not Money. Pleasant enough but won't be on repeat. 

17. Loose Ends, So Where Are You? Hmmmm, not quite Color Me Badd. Very Delia Smith. The Delia Smith comment was because I found this album was an embarrassment much like Delia that fateful night at Carrow Road. If you don’t know to what I am referring, Google it.

16. Killing Joke, Night Time. Great album, cracking band.

15. Tears for Fears, Songs from the Big Chair. A big collection of comfortably accomplished songs. 

The first album on the list I had definitely played, in its entirety, before...just not in 1985. 

14. Dire Straits, Brothers in Arms. By no means their best. Tbf, you’d have to go some to best a debut or 3rd or 4th albums of the quality Dire Straits had under their belt. And, a side note, I think probably the best name for a band, ever. 

13. The Sisters of Mercy, First and Last and Always. A moody, gothic masterpiece. I reckon the growling vocals are the stuff of genius and nightmares.  12.  Prince, Around the World In A Day. Prince is brilliant, this album isn't. Like a few on this list, the decade’s half-way point didn’t see his finest hour.

11. Felt, Ignite the Seven Canons. I've never heard of this band before, nor heard a single track from this album, until now. I like them, I like it.

And I reached the Top Ten....I found myself really looking forward to the next 6-7 hours of the supposed mid-80s finest.... 

10. The Jesus and The Mary Chain, Psychocandy. Mentally sweet. 

It is a great album by a seminal band but I didn’t really get on the band wagon back then, and I don’t have the time nor the inclination to now. That’s gonna piss some people off, I’m sure! 9. Microdisney, The Clock Comes Down The Stairs. Never heard of them before, probably never listen to them again.

This album left me feeling nothing. It’s the most nondescript one of the list thus far and I doubt that will change.

8. REM, Fables of Reconstruction. This band were good before they got massive. 

Fucking brilliant. I had never listened to this album before and it’s such a precursor - we all know how massive they became and one or two of their later albums were residence, for a time, in my CD player. I reckon this one could become a real favourite of mine. Not just of REM stuff but in general.

7.  Lloyd Cole & The Commotions, Easy Pieces. Easy listening and first rate easy listening, at that. 

‘Brand New Friend’ is the stand out track.   

6.  Prefab Sprout, Steve McQueen. I don’t switch the radio off if this band are played, but I never play them. This album doesn’t alter that.

5. Madness, Mad not Mad. Who'd thought the stalwart rude boys would be so innovative? Another cracker from this list. It really stood out for me, they way the band changed things up a notch with this record. I can imagine some long-time fans would have baulked at this at the time of release but now, 35 years on, it smacks of progression. I’ve just asked Alexa to play it as I’m typing. 

4.  Talking Heads, Little Creatures. A wonderful, totally original band and album. This album reminded me that I do not spend enough time listening to Talking Heads. 

3. The Waterboys, This Is the Sea. Marvellous. This is an album I know and love. So, here it is, one of the aforementioned two. It’s is still one of my favourite albums, definitely, but, just a little bit, the metaphors grate - there’s enough of the fuckers on this album - the sea, the moon, the spirit. But I will always love this album and I will revisit many more times, I wager (and hope).

2. Tom Waits, Rain Dogs. Not really a musical masterpiece, more a lyrical one.

I found this a unusual choice for number 2. That’s subjectivity for you, I’d have picked many others before this one for the runner’s up slot.

1. Kate Bush, Hounds of Love. One of my favourite ever albums. The best of 1985, maybe of the 80s, very close to of all time. It’s number 1 for the NME and it most certainly is for me.

So, I listened to all of these NME listed albums in turn and it was, in the main, an enjoyable musical journey

And I reminded myself that, in 1985, I did indeed only put two albums, that first saw the light of day in that year, on my turntable (Kate Bush and The Waterboys). Any other releases didn't get a look in.