#be astonished

[ashtrayfloors]

Last week started out pretty well. I got a lot of work (paid day-job stuff) done; took my kids to the library for therapy dog reading time, took them to the park to birdwatch (we saw so many woodpeckers, both downy and red-bellied). I took a lot of walks and wrote a lot and read a lot.

C. and I had a sweet discussion about relationships. He asked me if he could have a girlfriend and I said that one day, when he’s older, and he meets a girl he’s into who’s into him, he can have a girlfriend. Then I said that he’s a long way off from dating, though, and that in the meantime he just needed to make friends with people, girls and boys. He said “okay,” paused, then said: “Does that mean I can have a girlfriend and a boyfriend someday?!” I said: “If you want to, then absolutely.” But internally I was screaming: “Oh my god, he’s gonna be bi and poly!!!!” Obviously I know that kids say and do all kinds of things that have no bearing on their identity or life, but it still made me smile. Later on that day, he said he wanted Spider-Man to be his boyfriend someday, which was also super cute. (And of course made me think of both the Bi-Der Man meme, and Andrew Garfield saying he’d wanted to play Spider-Man/Peter Parker as bi.)

There was one day when C. seemed like maybe he was coming down with something, and I got a little worried, but then he seemed fine, so I thought it was just a fluke.

Friday morning, I woke up feeling good. I thought P. and I would finally be able to fuck that night (we hadn’t had sex in a week and a half; first he had a backache, then I had some genital irritation which I did not want to make worse). But then C. was acting really weird, like saying he needed a nap after only being awake for two hours, and his eyes looked really glassy, and his forehead felt warm. I checked his temperature, and sure enough, it was slightly elevated. He only got worse from there.

Well, whatever he had has since made its way through the everyone in the house. It’s not CoViD. We’ve taken multiple CoViD tests over the course of the past four days, and all of them have been negative. I know antigen tests aren’t as reliable as PCR tests, but last April when we did have CoViD, the tests showed positive as soon as we were symptomatic. Plus, with CoViD I had insane body aches, fatigue, and brain fog, and have had none of that with this virus. (Well, not much. There’s always a little fatigue with any virus, but this is nothing compared to CoViD fatigue.) But we’re treating it basically the same way, anyway. Quarantining, resting as much as possible, megadosing on vitamins.

The first few days after we started coming down with it, P. and I felt pretty good, and we said: “Oh, maybe we got really mild cases!” I guess we jinxed it, because as of Monday evening, it got a lot worse for both of us. Still not the sickest I’ve ever been, but it’s no fun.

Worst parts of the past five days:

I had to pass on a really well-paying freelance gig, because the deadline was the end of this week, and I knew I’d be too sick to do it well, and taking care of sick kiddos on top of it so I wouldn’t have the time.

Obviously, P. and I have not gotten to have sex. It’s been over two weeks now! I know in the grand scheme of things that’s not a long time, but for us, it kinda is.

The being sick itself. All the phlegm and snot, oh my fucking god. It is endless.

My nose is chapped! My lips are chapped!

Not being able to keep my house clean/picked up. I’m not a clean or neat freak, but in recent months I’ve realized I do better if we keep up a baseline of organization and cleanliness, and we’ve been staying pretty on top of it. But this week, what with being sick, we’ve done dishes and laundry as needed, plus general wiping down of surfaces with disinfectant, and everything else has fallen by the wayside.

I am so fucking tired. Not like, fatigue-tired, but like, I haven’t been sleeping well despite my best intentions. Because either the kids keep me up half the night so I can tend to their ailments, or I just can’t sleep because I’m either blowing my nose or spitting out phlegm every two seconds. And last night was the full moon, and I can never sleep when it’s a full moon, sick or no.

I started feeling bad about my Career and my Life and Myself, thinking: “Ugh, I’m a failure at everything and I’m old and hideous and everything is terrible now and is gonna be terrible forever.” Fortunately, I nipped it in the bud quickly, remembering that I always get depressed about myself/my life when I’m sick, and that it is not the right time to be taking stock of anything.

Best parts of the past five days:

On Sunday, when I still thought this might be a mild cold, I was able to attend the Four Queens online writing workshop. I wrote some stuff, and got lots of great ideas for current and future projects. And I just really liked what Mathias had to say about attention and astonishment.

I’ve been taking Mathias’ words to heart. Even as I’ve been sick, I’ve been taking time every day to step outside or at least look outside, or even look at something inside, and pay deep attention and feel astonished, and that’s led to even more lists and ideas and scraps; more mulch for future writings.

I’ve been spending as much of my time as possible reading books or watching videos and films. And basically everything I’ve been watching and reading has been by and/or about queer and trans folks. Books I’ve read: A Minor Chorus by Billy-Ray Belcourt, Feral City by Jeremiah Moss, and IRL by Tommy Pico. Things I’ve watched: The film of Abigail Thorn’s play The Prince, Chris McKim’s documentary Wojnarowicz: Fuck You Faggot Fucker, and Caelan Conrad and Jessie Gender’s newest video essays on YouTube. I highly recommend all of it.

I’ve been drinking a lot of tea. I’ve been mostly foregoing cold medicine and having a hot toddy every evening instead. When I have tried the cold meds they just haven’t helped very much, or not enough anyway, and I find that a good hot toddy helps just as much. Plus, hot toddies taste better and are more enjoyable than cold meds. And there’s no way I’m gonna take cold meds and drink at the same time. Twenty years ago, back when I used to take severe liver damage may occur as less of a warning, more of a challenge? Sure, I mixed meds and booze. But back then I simultaneously still hoped to/thought I would die young, and also kinda thought I was fuckin’ invincible. Now I’m (comparatively) old and would like to live a lot longer, thank you, so I’m not going to risk it.

Today I made myself ramen for lunch—just instant ramen, but I tried this technique I learned that makes it taste better, and also added chopped scallions, a splash of soy sauce and a splash of chili oil, and I topped it with a fried egg. Then I took a long, hot aromatherapy bubble bath. Then I drank tonight’s hot toddy, and cooked dinner while listening to my favorite radio station. Every year on International Women’s Day they play only women/women-fronted bands and artists all day. The DJ tonight did a whole block (two songs each) of Alanis Morissette followed by Garbage followed by Ani DiFranco, and it was like, holy flashback to middle school thru early college, Batman! (I mean that in the best possible sense.) Then we changed the sheets on all the beds, and now I’m lying in bed, finishing this entry, and feeling better than I’ve felt since Monday. I’m cautiously optimistic that I’m actually on the mend.

Other things: 

Saturn has moved into Pisces, and it’s intense.

I have a wee little crush on someone. They are currently On The Road, and I’ve been looking up photos of places they’re currently in. I realized that this is actually fairly common for me. Be it friend, family, crush, lover, acquaintance even…if I am thinking of someone who lives away from me, and/or is traveling, I look up photographs of where they currently are. It’s sort of a way to see what they’re seeing, maybe in that way sort of feel what they’re feeling. And it’s sort of the opposite of a postcard. A postcard is sending someone a piece of where you are, saying wish you were here. This thing I do is finding a piece of where someone I care for is, thinking wish I was there.

I was thinking about K. the other day. Sent her a message to say I think of her often, and I hope she’s well. She has not responded, and I’m not surprised nor do I blame her. For three years, she tried so so hard to be close with me, and I really didn’t let her in. I wanted to, but I was also afraid, and there were several other factors. And she eventually gave up. And, as I said, I don’t blame her. I send her messages a few times a year, to let her know I still think of her. I wish she’d respond, but at this point in my life I’d rather have people know I care even if they don’t reciprocate.

We’re hunkering down for a winter storm that’s due within the next couple days. I want it to be spring, but despite the returning birds and the daffodil shoots, it’s still officially winter for the next two weeks.

[betweentheheavesofstorm]

the year is 2024. I am watching The X Files 1x08 with my blissfully offline boyfriend. We reach the scene where, in confinement, Mulder and Scully examine each other's backs for alien marks. My boyfriend, who has never seen the show before, makes an amused noise and utters a strong contender for understatement of the year:

"I'm guessing there's fanfiction about these two"

[foldingfittedsheets]

I think something a lot of other people can relate to is the way that you get so conditioned to discomfort that you stop registering it.

I remember sitting at the table with my family, eating dinner as a child. I’d try to eat, because of course I was hungry. But sometimes the flavor or texture was so repugnant that it moved into a category of Not Food.

“Two more bites before you can leave the table.”

“I can’t,” I’d say, trying to explain the impossibility.

But because I was a child they heard, “I won’t,” and made me sit at the table. I’d sit in dull agonized silence, bored and hungry for hours until bedtime when they’d give up. I’d hate myself for not eating and my parents for forcing me to sit there. The few forcefeeding moments ended in vomit.

They’d say, “If you don’t eat this you can’t eat a snack later,” and I moved past trying to communicate my discomfort into accepting that I’d just be hungry.

That state of affairs didn’t last, because my parents realized nothing could force me to eat so they catered to my palate, worrying they’d starve me. But the message stuck. If you can’t do anything about a situation, just accept the suffering.

A few years later my mother called me off the playground to ask, “Are you limping?”

I shrugged. My feet had hurt for a long time, but that was just the way things were now. My mom pulled my socks and shoes off and gasped. The soles of my feet were covered in huge painful planters warts.

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” She demanded but I could only shrug at her. I’d learned a long time ago that saying things about my discomfort didn’t matter, so now I had no words. Sometimes things hurt and sometimes they don’t. I simply accepted and did my best.

Now as an adult trying to learn to improve my own conditions can be hard. If I make food that I can’t eat I’ll force myself to sit at the counter still, full of guilt and self loathing, trying to will myself to eat it.

At first I needed my betrothed to gently take it away to present me with something I could eat. Now on my own I can usually admit that it’s not happening before too long and get something else, but I still feel guilty.

Laying in bed at night waiting for my betrothed to finish getting ready I let out a huge sigh of relief when they turned the lights off.

“Why didn’t you turn them off if they bothered you?” they asked the first time it happened.

“I didn’t even know it was bothering me until it was gone.”

Assessing my physical state now to see if I can improve it is something I’m still relearning but I’m relieved to finally have the space and support to do it.

[culverton]

average friendship

[nutongzhi]

cramping so bad rn

[soracities]

we NEED more cleaners and bricklayers and scaffolders and delivery drivers in MFA poetry programs. like. immediately.

[egoschwank]

al things considered — when i post my masterpiece #1157

first posted in facebook february 19, 2023

helen allingham -- "thomas carlyle, 1795-1881, historian and essayist" (1879)

"instructions for living a life: pay attention. be astonished. tell about it" ... mary oliver

"what we become depends on what we read after all of the professors have finished with us. the greatest university of all is a collection of books" ... thomas carlyle

"don't think: look!" ... ludwig wittgenstein

"lookie lookie ... how i do the boogaloo" ... bobby cruz

"don't think: dance!" ... al janik

[feykrorovaan]

Shh babygirl, I know it's not actually 7,000 steps to High Hrothgar. It's actually 763, but canonically, it's 7,000. Shh, I know love. It's ok. It's Skyrim Darling,followers can get trapped in walls,people can swim in mid air and you can break doors with dinner plates. Let it go. It will all be alright.

[unbfacts]

[scourgebff]

GUYS NEW OFFICIAL SCOURGE ART DROPPED from the polish version of “enter the clans”, illustrated by @kynoph0bia on twitter! the urge to buy this book is consuming me

[gothicwill]

Casting directors looked at hugh dancy in the 2000s and decided yeah we need to get this twink into as many compromising positions as possible

[motionpic-by-alterpetrus]

[nerdpoe]

3 Fanon ideas to make a prompt from :)

1). Ectoplasm is Lazarus Water but purified

2). Ghosts can retreat to their cores

3). Protocore Jason AU

Danny has to retreat into his core, Jason somehow finds him and absorbs it. It looks like Jason is pregnant as his own ecto is being purified and then given to Danny's Core.

Enjoy:)

This is a full prompt, though? Okay I'll write mpreg. Gonna bypass that "looks" and make it an "is" though, throwin in some reincarnation and trans Jay.

~~~~~~

Jason was doing one last round before he left for Gotham. Before he left to prove a point. To teach Bruce a lesson he'd never forget.

He wasn't sentimental, no, he was just checking to make sure he wasn't forgetting any sickass weapons that may have fallen behind a dresser or something.

"Todd," a small, imperious voice demanded from behind him. "Observe my new pet rock."

Jason sighed and stood up to humor the little demon.

The kid was holding a weird glowing, cracked orb. It was radiating frost, and Damian had to use cloth between his hands and the magic stone.

"Damian," Jason started, keeping his voice level. "Where did you get that?"

The kid sniffed with all the superiority of a spoiled brat, looking proud and holding the obviously enchanted stone higher.

"Since Grandfather and Mother say that animals as pets would be a weakness, I decided to search the lesser treasure room for a suitable inanimate pet."

Jason sucked in air through his teeth in a soft hiss. There was no "lesser" treasure room; there was the "safe" treasure and the "unknown" treasure. Where was Talia when he needed her?

"Look, kid, I don't think-" Jason started, reaching for the weird rock, just as Damian started pulling away.

"-You are jealous that I have this rock and you do not-"

"-Damian, please, just hand over the fucking-"

"-Cease your attempted theft this instant-"

"-Damian come here you little shit-"

Jason tripped. Damian tripped. The weird rock went into the air...and landed on Jason's chest. It melted into him with a sharp flash of pain.

And that was that.

Damian stared at Jason's stomach, aghast.

"You stole my rock!"

By the time Talia arrived to see what was keeping Jason so long, he and Damian were rolling on the ground biting each other.

~~~~~~

Months later, Jason was beyond ready to murder the newest Robin. He'd originally planned to just beat the shit out of the kid, but he'd been having a rough time.

He was losing his carefully crafted abs.

He was getting soft.

Normally that was whatever, but he was trying to be intimidating, and being soft in any way was definitely going to trigger the dysphoria he thought he'd outrun.

It made no sense; he worked out daily, had started eating on a caloric deficit, drank nothing but water, and made sure what he ate was home-cooked.

Then, one month before go-time with Timmy, he'd started getting nauseous.

He felt bloated, tired, hungry, and most of all; pissed.

As he stalked through the Tower that the newest Robin was hiding in, he may have, perhaps, let the millions of small annoyances pile into one big rage filled pity party with a kid as the target.

It really didn't help that he hadn't been able to don his replica of his own Robin costume, because he...he had pudge. He didn't fit in it.

It was infuriating.

He knew it wasn't little TimTams fault, but he was gonna take his rage out on someone, and the kid was the unfortunate closest person he had beef with.

Was he overreacting? Probably.

But it was lash out or cry, and he refused to cry.

On top of everything, the one thing that had helped with any of the symptoms, the extra purified Lazarus Water that Talia had given him to 'act as an emergency first aide', was gone. He'd drank it all.

With that supply out, he was.

Well.

He was going to kill little Timmy, fuck the consequences.

But little Timmy was...doing a very good job of staying completely out of sight. The kid had been acting far more neurotic than he normally did, only letting out a small gasp when he'd seen Red Hood and immediately darted into some sort of weird hidey hole.

Jason hadn't been able to find him since.

The kid had added his own gopher network to the Tower, fuck.

The speaker system crackled on, just as Jason was about to start laying down bombs.

"Red Hood, please consider your condition. Do not do anything that would raise your blood pressure, or uh..." the newest Robin's voice trailed off, keyboard audibly clacking as he looked something up. "...Or eat peas? No, that can't be right. Whatever, look, just stay calm, take a breather, and don't overstress yourself. It's not good for the uh. The second...yeah. Not good. Do not do. Why am I so dumb sounding when it comes to things like this? Shoulda gotten Steph..."

The kids voice trailed off as he berated himself, but Jason was too busy fighting off the horribly dawning realization of what the kid was saying.

Which couldn't be true, because there was no way for the kid to know, and Jason hadn't had sex in...well. Years.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Jason gasped, thanking his past self for putting the vocoder in his helmet. It sounded far more threatening.

"Oh. Uh. During one of your fights with Batman, you got glanced by something sharp, and there was a little blood. Don't worry though! I didn't tell Batman! I just wanted to see if I could figure it out on my own! So I ran your blood and now I...know. That was actually probably like, really invasive. Sorry Jason."

Jason knew the fight the little Bird was talking about. He'd had a random wave of vertigo, barely dodged a batarang. He'd had to do his own stitches afterwards.

"...You know? Know what?"

"Okay, I should clarify. I didn't tell Batman, but I kinda needed help scrubbing everything, so I had to ask Oracle to help, so she knows, and she couldn't keep it from Nightwing, because he's felt super guilty about how he treated you, but Batman definitely does not know."

Jason sat down on the nearest chair, feeling like the wind had been ripped from his sails. He took the helmet off and dropped in on the ground in favor of running a hand through his hair.

"How can you be sure B doesn't know it's me?" He rasped, staring at nothing.

"Because can you imagine he'd leave you alone for a second if he knew you were alive, much less up the duff?"

Jason had nothing to say to that. Either Ra's had been up to some fucked up experiments while he'd been asleep, or he was the victim of miraculous conception.

The newest Robin was rambling over the speakers, but Jason ignored him and held his head in his hands. The glowing orb flashed through his mind, and Jason didn't even have the energy to curse Damian for doing stupid kid shit.

He was just thankful that the kid hadn't been a viable host.

"Tim, shut up. Do you have an ultrasound machine here?" Jason interrupted, steeling himself. He was an adult sort of, one year before it was technically true, and he could freak out later.

It was time to do adult things.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Why? Has your gyno not done one yet?"

"Don't have one, didn't know. Where is it?"

"...I probably should have broken that news to you like, way softer."

~~~~~~

Jason was...pulling back. His criminal empire was still growing strong, and he was making a shit ton of money from it, but he was pulling back from actively provoking Batman.

As much as he wanted B to be the one to kill the Joker, he knew that the older man probably wouldn't do that, and Jason wasn't going to risk getting anywhere near that maniac while he was pregnant.

Batman had certainly noticed the change in behavior, but whenever he tried to intrude into Crime Alley, Nightwing or Robin would intercept him.

Jason.

Jason wasn't sure what he wanted to do about Bruce.

Dick was slowly earning forgiveness for his pas actions, piece by piece. Tim was surprisingly good at being supportive, and Jason's hatred for him was starting to wear away to the realization that this was just a kid.

Oracle, whoever she was, had apparently designed the best security system in the world and quietly renovated an apartment into a safehouse, just for him.

He hated the charity, but it was better than what he could make at the moment with how many enemies he'd gained.

As the months passed by, he found himself hiding away in the gifted apartment more and more.

The dysphoria was...bad.

There were no more mirrors in the apartment.

The kid, which the ultrasound confirmed they were, was a small one, thank fuck. His belly had popped out, true to most pregnancies, but it was relatively contained.

It was still enough to make a horrible sense of wrongness almost knock him off his feet every time he looked down.

He was, essentially, useless.

If it wasn't for the trio of well-meaning extended family (maybe? he had his suspicions about Oracle), he probably would have just laid down on the floor of his apartment and not gotten up.

Tim, surprisingly, had adopted some stupid Alvin Draper alias and was running his crime network in his stead. He was doing a concerningly good job, actually, and Jason and Dick had exchanged more than one worried glance over the kid's head.

Dick had moved in, citing that Bruce was getting suspicious and it was easier to pretend that he'd moved back to Gotham than it was to continually make up excuses. In reality, he was making sure Jason didn't lay down and rot, keeping him active and healthy.

Jason was...trying. He was trying. But between needing to stop HRT and the changes and his fucking voice and just. Everything. All of it.

He hated it.

But he still wasn't sure what he wanted to do with the kid.

Dick and Tim had set up a nursery, just in case. Dick had also surreptitiously reached out to the Kents, also just in case. There was no judgement. If he decided to keep the kid or give it away, it would be well taken care of.

That should have been a weight off his shoulders.

But instead, he felt like he was getting worse.

He was so, so fucking tired. He was starving but he couldn't stomach the food Dickwing put in front of him. He had worked so hard to build his criminal empire, but when Tim tried to tell him about it he couldn't focus long enough understand what was being said. He knew that they were getting more and more concerned, and when he woke up one morning and vomited straight Lazarus Water, Tim snapped.

"I'm calling B."

"Tim, no, we can-"

"-No, Dick, we need to figure out what's going on! This isn't something Leslie can handle, we need Bruce!"

Maybe it was just something buried deep inside Jason, but he agreed. He wanted his dad, not a doctor. He didn't care about Tim's reasoning, he just. He agreed. He wanted Bruce.

"Do it," Jason rasped from the floor, leaning into the cold tile. "Get B."

~~~~~~

Jason was still on the bathroom floor when a set of far, far heavier footsteps paused at the doorway.

The wood from the doorframe creaked as whoever it was tightened their grip on it.

Their breathing stuttered. They swallowed.

The footsteps continued, and they knelt next to Jason, wordlessly running their fingers through his hair.

"Hey Jaylad," Bruce whispered, voice tight and controlled even as his hand shook. "Looks like you've got a bit of a situation. Wanna tell me what happened?"

"Got knocked up by a magic rock," Jason muttered, thoroughly enjoying the hand in his hair. "But it ain't going right, and I'm tired and hungry all the time, and I'm throwing up the Lazarus Pits."

"The magic rock info is new," he heard Tim mutter from the hall, right before he was forcibly shushed by Dick.

"Did you have any weird cravings? Any symptoms that don't normally match a pregnancy?" Bruce asked, keeping his voice calm and controlled even as he lifted Jason from the floor and into his lap. "Should I get Constantine on the phone?"

Jason let it happen, turning to hide his face from the shitshow that had been his life for the past six months and shoving it into Bruce's stupid fancy shirt.

"Had Lazarus water. Drank it. I'm hungry but I can't eat anything. I can hear the kid chirp sometimes."

"Like a bird? That's adora-"

"-Shut up Dick not now!"

"You shut up!"

"You...drank. Lazarus Water." Bruce repeated, voice stilted as he clearly started working through something in his head. "I....hm. Okay. I'm...I'm going to call Constantine." Jason couldn't help the snort at the clear distaste in Bruce's voice as he said that.

He expected Bruce to put him down and go get changed into his Batman kit.

He did not expect Bruce to adjust his hold, lean back onto the cabinets, and make the call then and there.

~~~~~~

Constantine was officially unofficially his doctor for the duration of his pregnancy.

That was not something that anyone wanted, Bruce especially.

Jason wanted to throw up and aim it at the Hellblazer, but he had a feeling the man had been covered in worse and would, at best, be unfazed.

At worst, tempted to just smear it on Jason to prove a point.

The Mage of the hour himself was hovering over Jason, eyes unfocused as his glowing hands rested on the despised baby bump.

Jason was laying on the couch, trying not to let the sound of Bruce's pacing drive him up a wall.

"That," Constantine started, head tilting as if he was listening to something. "That is a core. And a baby. And another core. Two Ghost Cores, two bodies. If you're meetin' the needs of the physical, and you're still havin' issues, prolly need to see to the spritual, love."

"Don't call him love," Bruce warned, pausing his pacing long enough to glare at the Mage.

Constantine didn't bother to acknowledge him.

"Don't suppose you've got any spare Lazarus Water lying around, eh?" The man asked instead, eyes refocusing as he removed his hands from Jason's person.

Jason shook his head, but Tim nodded his.

Everyone stared at Tim.

Tim shrugged.

"What? It's under the city. Not like anyone will miss it if we take some."

"How. Tim, how do you know that?" Dick asked, sounding a little scared.

"Because I found it? I tried throwing dead rats in it but it doesn't work on rats, so I tried larger dead animals that had gotten down there-"

"-B you've raised Dr. Frankenstein," Jason groaned, covering his eyes from the realities of a mad scientist little brother.

"But I'm not an undead being stitched together?" Tim asked.

"You uncultured swine," Jason snarled, practically throwing himself into a sitting position and was quickly met with Constantine trying to wrangle him back down. "It's common fucking knowledge that Frankenstein was the doctor, not the monster, and if you paid any attention in English class-"

"-I'm gonna go get Lazarus Water okay bye!" Tim shouted, bolting for the door.

~~~~~~

Jason drank his fifth juice pack of Lazarus Water, finally starting to feel like himself again, and stared at Bruce.

Bruce, to his credit, was clearly trying very hard not to stare back.

Jason imagined this was rather hard, given that he couldn't stop fucking purring. Apparently, that was a Thing that his body could and would do, according to his unofficial doctor.

Dick and Tim were helping Constantine put the Lazarus Water into the juice packets, all of them desperately pretending that they weren't there at all and trying to be as quiet as possible.

"So, Hellblazer. Nothing to say about the Big Bad Batman?" Jason asked, eyes never leaving said man.

"Not particularly any of my business, mate. I don't really care one way or another."

Bruce actually looked a little put out at that, much to Jason's satisfaction.

"I imagine you have questions," Jason sighed, finishing off his juice pack.

Bruce finally turned to look at him head on, gaze steady.

"They can wait. Do you have any plans for...this?" Bruce didn't motion towards Jason's stomach, but he didn't have to.

"...Maybe. I don't even really know what this is." Jason muttered, sinking further into his chair.

"I told you, love, it's a baby. With a ghost core. It was probably an adult ghost, at one point, but if it was cracked near as bad as you say, it was either reincarnate or disappear." Constantine shrugged, taping another stupid tiny straw to another juice box and moving to repeat the action. "Either way, since it's reincarnation, the baby ain't gonna know tit from tat. 'S just a baby."

That. Damn. If he'd been faced with the same choice, he probably would have done the same thing.

"You keep saying that. What does a ghost core do when it's in a human?" Bruce asked, knuckles white on the couch's armrest.

"Dunno, haven't seen it before. Heard of it, though. Just makes the person powerful, but now sure how much. Flight is definitely gonna be there, though, so I'd ask supes for some pointers." Constantine answered without really answering, true to form for him.

Jason heaved himself up and waved everyone off as they started to get to their own feet to help him. "I'm gonna take a nap. Snipe at each other in here and don't fucking bother me."

~~~~~~

Jason was disgusting.

Alfred and Bruce and everyone else assured him he wasn't, but he absolutely was.

It was so bad he'd gone ahead and, without informing anybody, arranged for an induced labor at Gotham General as soon as he could.

He didn't want to deal with Dick getting scared and frantic, or Tim overplanning and having a mental breakdown, or Bruce's rigid shoulders as he both tried to apologize and do something stupid like take over from the actual doctor.

Alfred would probably be composed, but if Alfred acted a little off then they'd know.

Hell, Jason had started getting some Braxdon hicks contractions and he swore he watched Bruce's hair grey in real time.

So at the eight and a half month mark, Jason lied to everyone and told them he was going to another safehouse to get away from their coddling.

He ignored their objections and reached for the keys to his car-

-and pissed himself.

Or, it felt like he did.

The apartment went dead silent as everyone looked down.

Then the contractions really hit.

~~~~~~

Bruce actually did try to take over the maternity ward and do the doctors jobs.

Jason was delighted to have an excuse to kick him out.

He couldn't force the man to avenge his murder, but he could make him wait in the waiting room like the rest of the peasants.

Alfred he allowed to stay, though.

~~~~~~

Jason still hadn't decided what to do with the kid.

He didn't know if he was gonna send them off to a farm or if he was gonna keep them.

So he let himself hold them, to see if any of the disgust he'd felt during the pregnancy had been directed at the kid or if it was all just him hating how he looked.

The little bean of a child, eyes bluer than his own, proceeded to free one arm to pull on Jason's bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

Ah.

Nah, the hatred had been towards how he looked.

This one was his, the Kents could get visitation rights.

[mournfulroses]

Mahmoud Darwish, from Almond Blossoms and Beyond; "Tuesday, A Bright Day,"

[odeu-m]

thing for @celestialalpacaron's overlord husk au

closeups under the cut

[cloudpalettes]

space, gardening, and tenderness 🌱

my piece for @mdzsrbb !!! with an amazing fic written by the lovely @lamusadelils 💗 you can read the fic here !!