Like actually in general my parents never just. bought me video games unprompted. I listen to Scott the Woz talk about his parents buying him games and Nintendo Power subscriptions just for no reason and I'm like. ?????? Families do that?
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Tim: I know who you are.
Danny, squinting down at him wearing Hello Kitty pjs.: What are you talking about? Who's child is this?
Tim: Batman has gotten too dangerous. He is a threat to himself and others. He needs a Robin to keep him sane. You need to come back to Gotham.
Danny: Kid-
Tim: I have proof! I'll release it all!
Danny sighing: I was just about to have some milk and Oreos. Do you want some?
Later, while Tim is eating his snack, Danny is talking on the phone: No Jazz, of course I'm not Robin! How was I supposed to know that turning off gravity so I could do a crazy hard flip would lead to a literal toddler thinking I was Robin? .....Because apparently, the quadruple somersault can only be done by four people in the world.....I don't know! What am I supposed to do with him? Tim already threatened to become Robin himself! He's so tiny, Jazz! I can't just send him out in the field like that!.........Look, Batman is spiraling. He'll never notice.....yes, I'm sure. How hard can being Robin be? I was already Phantom for a few years.
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katsuki plays with your son's ears.
without thinking, really. it started when he was a newborn, and katsuki was unable to get over how soft your son's skin was—so squishy and tender and fresh, made of velvet—and it's followed the both of them all this way. whenever they're sitting together, either at the table or on the couch or with your little boy in his father's lap, you'll always see katsuki's hand come up to lightly fiddle with your son's little earlobe. tug on it, pass it back and forth between his thumb and his pointer.
you think it's an absent-minded comfort thing, for katsuki, like how he plays with the clasp of your necklace, sitting warm at the nape of your neck, or how he drums his fingers against your arm when he's waiting too long for something. how he keeps a hand on his chest when he's laying down, like he wants to feel his heartbeat beneath his skin, or how he rubs his hands on his pants even when they shouldn't be sweaty, just to be safe.
you notice your son doing it to himself when katsuki's out of the country, and then you notice him doing it to you, too.
just the same way—without thought, a little habit; after a bath, you're trying to wind down for bedtime by letting your son sit in your lap and lean back into your chest, his full little belly from dinner poking out under his pajama shirt. and then he rubs at his eyes and yawns and plays with his hair for a second, before reaching up to find your earlobe. to feel it softly between his fingers as he sighs, relaxed and sleepy.
(you'll remember to tell katsuki later, after you've tucked your little one in and are propping your phone up in the kitchen for a quick facetime chat. when the call finally connects, he almost immediately leans closer to the screen, to see you better, and you see his elbow prop up, his hand raise and the tendons of his wrists shifting as he fiddles with something you can't see—but something you know, anyway.)
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