#batfam tickle
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fluffyweeby · 2 months ago
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A lil break from animating to finish a wip I started almost a year ago 😅😅
I love the batboys 🥹🥹
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Hope you like it and stay hydrated 💧💧
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dc-gotham-instincts-wild · 13 days ago
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DC BATFAM FANFIC IDEAS
Bruce not telling anyone in the JL his identity and one day he casually mentions something only an orphan would understand. - The JL members who are orphans understand. The others don't. - The entire JL gets concerned.
Tim's nervous (Read: really scared) around Jason. Jason does not like this and wants to fix it. Wait, why does Bruce glare daggers at Jack Drake? - Jason: I sense child neglect. Dad's already onto it, i see. Ok so how do i use this to get Tim stop fleeing the room whenever i walk in.
Sort of an AU fic where Bruce and Oliver were close friends (Read: brothers and that's what they see each other as) as kids, still as adults, and as vigilantes they work pretty well together, they recognized each other instantly even in cape, and while the the JL doesn't know their identities, each knows the other. - Also they're both autistic and somehow chaos ensues after Flash overhears them talking one day at the Watchtower and now the JL wants to know how these work so well.
Bruce was a wild child and so is Damian.
Jason adjusting to being under a roof, right after Bruce found him.
The first days of Tim's being Robin. Bruce and Dick are concerned, while, oblivious, Tim is doing things that only neglected kids do. He is surprised others care. Dick sets out to change this.
AU where Jack ends up being a crap dad. Bruce has had enough and steals legal custody. - Bruce: Well you had one chance at being a dad and you blew it. - Bruce: Tim's my kid now. - Jack can't do anything about this. To Tim, Jack is 'Father'. Bruce is 'Dad'.
Some of the villains notice that the other vigilantes and even Red Robin himself like joking that 'RR's folks don't even notice that he practically lives at our place, they won't notice him sneaking back in at 2AM'. - Until one day they joke about 'RR's dad blew it. B took legal custody'.
Flash has ADHD but tells no one. The other see the signs tho. Batman calls him out on hiding it. Why Bat? Welp, the other nominated him. GA joins his autistic buddy tho.
This isn't Batfam but Billy/Captain Marvel accidentally drops some street child stuff. The League, of course, pick it up.
Bruce has trust issues. No specific event- just it was that way after his folks died. The JL figures it out that it's not just how he is, he just generally doesn't trust people. They figure out that something happened to make him this.
The JL has to come to Gotham for a mission. They have to stakeout in a graveyard. At some point while they still have a few hours, Batman slips off. When *insert any JL member(s)* find him, he's standing above two graves. They catch him saying "Hope you're proud, Mom, Dad." - Chaos ensues from this.
Kid!Dick has a nightmare. Bruce allows his kid to spend the night with him.
Cass gets into a fight with David Cain. She is shaken. Bruce is there for her, though.
Duke has a nightmare.
Tim tries to sneak outside after having a nightmare. Bruce catches him because he's a Dad. He sensed a disturbance in the force. Anyway instead of getting mad he makes it clear who Dick learned it from and tickles Tim to bits and then carries him back to bed lol.
That's all i got for now lol. Might update it if i get more ideas.
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justkiddingguys · 9 months ago
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Batboys Tickle Headcanons
A/N: FORGIVE ME BUT I’M GOING INSANE OVER THESE MFS JUST LET ME RANT IM SO NEW TO THE FANDOM THEYRE SO CUTESY LMAO. Again, this is purely on vibes, im so new to this fandom. Also it’s 1 am this may or may not be coherent.
Warnings: Tickling (duh) but all SFW, cursing ig
Including: Damian, Tim, Jason, Dick, Bruce
Damian:
Youngest first lol
Lee:
Okay, so this kid hadn’t been tickled in his LIFE until coming to live with Bruce right
And I like to think the first time Bruce does it they’re already decently comfortable with eachother, yknow??
And Damian is BAFFLED cause WTF is this??
He tries to fight his way out of it for sure
But when he can’t it’s one of the few times anyone gets to see him ACTUALLY acting like a kid
He’s throwing out threats left and right
ANGRYY lee. He doesn’t really mind it but his pride cannot handle it lmao
I’d say his worst spots are his armpits and sides. Little scratches on his neck get him FLUSTERED though cause he has to scrunch up his neck and make a face and agghh
Overall very angry
He can get away from it most times (baby assassin)
He might allow Bruce or Dick to get him on occasion though :3
Ler:
Okay so obviously he doesn’t have the size advantage
But he enjoys getting one in on his siblings
When he can he’s a little shit
During training?
Nonchalant teaser
“How unfortunate, you’ve lost. Why are you smiling about that?” (Completely kneading his opponent’s nearest un-coverable spot)
“Pff- Damian stahp-“
“Stop what? I’m not hurting you”
Not something seen often, but it is mean
And embarrassing, cause you’re getting overpowered by a child bro 💀💀
Tim
Lee
Another neglected child smh
He’s not as foreign to it as Damian, but it’s still prominent lmao
He’s been tickled briefly before once or twice sure
But longer than a few seconds??
He doesn’t know what to do with himself
Snorts
Craves affection, so he definitely brats his way into tickles often
If you tease him about that though he will die
He’s super duper sensitive, so if he’s wrecked he’s WRECKED, but light tickles make him flustered beyond belief
T-word teases also fuck him up
Has been tickled to sleep out of necessity because omg he NEEDS it
Also cheer up tickles cause he gets in his headddd
His laugh is so cute, it sounds like he’s trying not to laugh even when he’s cackling
Is not above begging. Begs often.
His worst spots are his knees and ribs
AGSHSHSH Dick has done the rib counting thing on him
“Come on, count with me. You’re a genius, Timmy, can’t you count?”
“BFFFAHAHA sHIT Dihick-“ (more concerned with covering his face than anything at this point)
“No no, that’s not a number, let’s start over. One rib…”
Ler
Another one who I can’t think of many scenarios he’d actually end up in that position
But I picture him as such a cute ler
He’s teasing, don’t get me wrong
But it’s so soft, yknow?
Like sure, he’ll wreck your shit
He’s AMAZING at figuring out bad spots
But his teases are like
“Aw, that tickles? Does it really? Hm. That’s sad.”
“Stop? Why? I haven’t seen you smile this much in forever!”
AND IT IS SOFT WITH MALICIOUS INTENT
BUT IT IS SOFT
Jason Todd
Lee
ANOTHERRR ANGRY LEE
Not necessarily as irrational due to obvious slight maturity level differences between him and Damian
IF YOU CAN PIN THIS MAN DOWN
The curses are worth it
Pretends he HATESS it
But he does not :3
He’s too pussy to brat his way into tickles
But if he’s in a mood he’ll sit annoyingly close and just… stretch his arms up. Ever so subtly.
He’ll deny his intentions to the second grave though
He’s a kicker
Gets pissed off at regular/mean teasing but
“Awww Jason, your laugh is so cute”
“Cmon, let’s see that smile”
Any soft cooing and he is GONE
Yeah he’s still throwing fuck you’s around like rice at a wedding
But he’s covering his red ass face too
Worst spots are his hips and stomach and that PISSES HIM OFF
Using words like belly or tummy to tease have him utterly broken
Ler
Mean mean mean mean
Mean ler
Instigator
Absolute little shit
Oh my god he’s so teasy
No boundaries
“Wow, you’re REALLY ticklish, huh? Especially right here in this spot, here. Mhm. Yeah, you are, look. Stop? No? Awww come on. We both know you wanted this”
Will not be soft unless he’s doing it for a purpose
Enjoy’s wrecking Tim’s shit regularly
I cannot emphasize this enough: MEAN
He will not stop digging his fingers into the utter WORST spot until he’s satisfied that his victim is about to die :3
And he’ll tease them about it for WEEKS
Dick
Lee
TEEHEE TEEHEE
He’s the only mf on this list not embarrassed as fuck about tickling
He gets in a lee mood and EVERYONE knows
Giggly little bitch is silently begging for it
And he doesn’t even ask the ler to stop, he just lets it happen 💀
Like he’s just laying there, no shame
He has to have a bad spot on his legs, specifically thighs
Honestly I think the only way he’s blushing about it is if you tease him for NOT blushing about it
“Awww, you love this, huh? Look at that grin. Maybe I’ll just keep tickling forever, since you’re enjoying yourself so much”
Ler
Big Brother Ler ™️
Designated cheer-up tickler
He’s definitely the softest teaser
All compliments and coochie coos
Unless you’ve fuckin crossed him.
Cause he CAN get mean
Sweet tickles: “Hmm, I love that smile. You’re so cute when you giggle like that. Yeah I know it tickles”
Revenge tickles: “So what was it you were saying earlier? No say it. Go on.” (going insane on the WORST spot imaginable) “What? Sorry I can’t hear over all the laughing. Damn you’re ticklish. Oh you don’t like that word? Hm. Tickle, tickle tickle…”
His fingers are so fast and he IS more flexible than ANYONE and there’s no escaping, no moving. Just a big Dick Grayson Grin in your face.
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calicocatsarecute · 2 years ago
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Hello,Welcome to my blog! I’m Lizzy, and this is a Tk blog, so if you don’t like that type of stuff please keep going. I’m pretty new and this is my first ever post! Please give e ideas for fics I can write.
Fandoms I’ll write for:
Demon Slayer
Mha
Sk8
Wonder Egg Priority
Pokémon (All Games)
Digimon
HxH
Genshin Impact
Cookie Run Kingdom/ Ovenbreak
Rascal Does Not Dream Of Bunny Girl Senpai
Danganronpa
Animal crossing
Studio Ghibli films
Yokai Watch
Wednesday
South Park
Tlou
Elemental
Fairy Tail
Helluva Boss
Hazbin Hotel
Batfam/DC
If I get more familiar with more fandoms I’ll add them in.
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the-bat-bros · 1 day ago
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Today’s Daily Nick Robles Jason Todd Post
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I am absolutely having a total normal reaction to this
I’m actively going feral rn
Art By: Nick Robles
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august-anon · 1 month ago
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Training Montage
#AugTickletober2024 Days 13 & 14, Win & Lose
My first tickletober fic of the year, and my first time exploring writing with DC characters! I have been. Hyperfixating on the batfamily (which has broadened to a far larger amount of DC characters now and continues to grow, i will never escape DC lol) since like. June. So this has been a long time coming skjdfhdf
Also this fic features FULLY PLATONIC AND NOT WEIRD parent-child tickles so if that's not your thing this is not your fic!
You can blame this fic on that one quick scene in BTAS episodes Robin's Reckoning where Dick and Bruce are fencing and then start goofing off, and also the part with Bruce and Jason in @/fickle-tiction's fic For Old Time's Sake.
Also, disclaimer: i have only consumed so much canon media, very little of it so far being comics and most of it being DCAU, so my current knowledge of a LOT of these characters is very fanon-based, so the characterization will also be very fanon-based
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Fandom: DC - Batfam
Ship(s): NONE/GEN/PLATONIC - under no circumstances is this Batcest
Characters (lee/ler): Switch!Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian
Word Count: 4609 words
Summary: Snippets of Bruce training with his sons over the years.
[ao3 link]
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Dick’s training was progressing exceptionally well. He had always been fast and agile thanks to his acrobatic upbringing, but he was quick to pick up the offensive and defensive maneuvers Bruce was trying to impart. Still, he was so young. Sometimes Bruce couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing, bringing a child into this life.
It became all too apparent in moments like these, where training suddenly switched from work into play with just a few of Dick’s childish giggles. Bruce couldn’t help the grin they brought to his own face, laughing a little himself as Dick dove into the open space between Bruce’s legs to evade a grapple.
“Okay, now you’re gonna get it,” he said.
Dick kept giggling, the laughter melting into a yelp as Bruce grabbed the edge of the training mat and yanked, sending Dick crashing down onto the plush surface. Bruce launched after him, wiggling fingers outstretched like weapons.
“No fair!” Dick shouted, his giggling bubbling up into full laughter as he tried to squirm away from the hands squeezing his sides. “You cheated!”
“Oh, yeah?” 
He tripped his fingers up to Dick’s ribs, laughing along as Dick flopped around like a fish out of water. It was adorable how uncoordinated Dick became when he was tickled, all that acrobatic control flying out the window. 
“Cheating cheater!” Dick screeched, kicking his legs and rolling onto his back to dislodge Bruce. All he accomplished was opening up his stomach for Bruce to target.
“You’ve got to learn to fight dirty, Dick,” Bruce said, trying to adopt the tone he often used to give corrections in training but falling closer to amused than anything. “A mugger on the street isn’t going to fight fair.”
“A mugger isn’t gonna tickle me, B!” He squealed as Bruce’s hands tried to sneak into his armpits, clamping his arms down tight as if it would do anything to keep Bruce out.
“Hmm, you never know.”
“B!”
Bruce’s own fond laughter was cut short as a small foot caught him in the jaw, sending him down to the floor. Dick really was improving, that kick packed way more punch than any ten year old should. That was definitely going to bruise.
“That’s what you get,” Dick said through his giggles. He sat up as they slowly petered out, eyeing Bruce’s prone form. “Uh, B? You good?”
Quick as lightning, Bruce shot a hand out to wrap around a tiny ankle. He shot Dick his best evil grin. “Not bad. But you’re going to regret that.”
Dick’s squeaky, childish laughter echoed throughout the Cave once more. 
_____
Training with Jason was tricky. When he’d first brought Jason to the Manor, they could hardly share a room without Jason bristling. If he made any sudden movements or showed any signs of anger, Jason tensed and shied away as if preparing for a strike, even if he kept up his hissing and spitting and posturing all the while.
It made sparring quite the issue when preparing Jason to take up the Robin mantle. Initially, Bruce thought it might’ve helped if Dick were around more often – Jason always seemed less wary of him, whether it was the fact that they were closer in age or something else, Bruce had no idea – but these days their arguments were explosive and often had Dick not speaking to him for weeks at a time. 
Unfortunately, as it turned out, Dick being present for training only added to the tension. 
“You need to tuck your legs more for that flip.”
“I fucking know–”
“Language, Jason.”
“Yeah, Jason, language.”
“I’ll show you language–”
“Boys!”
The two snapped their mouths shut, glaring at Bruce, and he had to resist the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh. Maybe Bruce should’ve thought through giving Jason the Robin mantle a little more carefully. Maybe it would’ve minimized the sniping by at least some amount.
“Perhaps we should switch to sparring, for now,” Bruce said. “Who wants to go first?”
Jason’s shoulders tightened almost imperceptibly. Unfortunately, due to Dick focusing more on his phone than training, Bruce was the only one to notice.
Dick scoffed. “Yeah, I don’t think so, you big fat cheater.”
Bruce shot Dick a look, but his eyes were still glued to his phone as he lounged across one of the benches. He forced himself to swallow his frustration. He promised Alfred that he’d try his best not to start a fight today – Alfred wanted a family dinner tonight, and Bruce couldn’t deny that the prospect sounded nice.
Bruce led Jason into a spar, both of them tight with tension. Dick split his attention between furiously texting – probably the Teen Titan’s group chat, if Bruce had to guess – and lazily watching their spar. Eventually they managed to settle into a sort of rhythm despite the tension thrumming through them, at least until Bruce brought attention to an open window in Jason’s defense. Of course, he would never hit his children, sparring or not, but instead of the usual controlled tap he would use on Jason, Bruce forgot himself for a moment and delivered a sneaky pinch to Jason’s side.
The squeal that echoed through the Cave’s training grounds got even Dick’s attention, his phone falling smack onto his nose as he fumbled it in surprise. Everyone froze, eyes wide. Jason blinked in Bruce’s direction for a moment before his cheeks flushed bright red, completely detracting from the scowl he twisted his face into.
“I’m not ticklish,” Jason stated, his voice as close to a growl as a pre-pubescent child could get.
It took all of Bruce’s Batman training to fight down his smile. “Of course not. No one said you were.”
Jason crossed his arms over his chest, shuffling his feet. “Good. Because I’m not.”
Dick leaned forward, almost rolling off the bench, a smug smile on his face. Bruce shot him a warning look, and the teasing expression melted into a pout. It seemed as though Bruce wasn’t the only one who got a lecture from Alfred.
“Bruce has always been a dirty cheat,” Dick said instead of whatever taunt he’d cut off. 
Jason turned and blinked at him.
Dick raised his eyebrows. “He’s always been a massive tickle monster.”
“Hey,” Bruce said. “From what I remember, there was a rambunctious little boy who often asked for the tickle monster.”
Dick scowled at him, his own cheeks turning red to match Jason’s. “I did no such thing.” He turned to Jason and shrugged. “He used to do it all the time, he hated pretending to hit me so he always tickled me instead.” His eyes flickered to Bruce for a moment, a smirk growing on his face. “Good thing you’re not ticklish then, huh, Jay?”
“... Right.”
Bruce guided Jason back into the spar. This time, Jason was noticeably looser and more focused. His body still carried some amount of that wary tension, but he was no longer eyeing Bruce like he was a cornered animal. When Jason’s guard slipped again, leaving the same window open, Bruce didn’t hesitate in his attack.
“You need to watch your left,” he instructed, reaching out and squeezing at Jason’s side once more.
Jason let out another loud squeal, making Dick laugh and Bruce fail to shove down another smile. Jason tripped over his own feet as he tried to scramble away and landed on the mat. Bruce followed him down, careful to kneel next to him and leave plenty of openings for Jason to escape if he felt trapped. He wiggled his fingers against Jason’s sides, breaking into a grin at the giggles it produced.
“Bruce!”
Bruce chuckled. “Yes, Jaylad?”
Jason kicked his feet out and curled into a ball as best as he could, but he didn’t roll away from Bruce’s hands or shout at him to stop. Bruce allowed his hands to converge on Jason’s stomach as he uncurled with another kick, earning himself a bout of loud laughter that he’d never heard Jason make before. Jason struggled to thrust a hand out, reaching in Dick’s direction.
“Dick, help me!”
Behind him, Bruce heard the bench shift and the unconscious hums Dick would make when he stretched out his muscles. Then, there was a battle cry and the thudding sound of feet against the training mats.
“I’ll save you, Jay!”
Bruce braced as Dick launched onto his back – DIck definitely wasn’t twelve anymore, and Bruce worried that he’d be feeling that one in the morning – and locked his arms around Bruce’s neck. Jason got a brief reprieve as Bruce flipped Dick over his shoulder, both of them laughing all the while. Dick smacked into the mats next to Jason with a wheeze, and Bruce waited a moment for him to get a breath in before he attacked once more, a set of wiggling fingers for each son.
Dick’s thrashing was chaotic as ever as he cackled, Bruce deciding to be a bit mean and sneak his fingers directly into Dick’s underarm. Jason curled into a giggling little ball once more, jolting as Bruce gently pinched up and down his ribcage.
“B! You asshole!” Dick shrieked.
Bruce laughed. “You brought this on yourself, chum.”
Training with Jason went a lot smoother from then on, and Dick even started coming by more often again – even if it was just to see Jason and avoid Bruce. They never did manage to perfect that double-team attack to get their revenge on Bruce.
_____
Bruce didn’t think he’d ever escape the guilt he felt over how Tim’s training began. He didn’t think he deserved to either, especially when he would find Tim training on his own, working himself to the point of exhaustion or injury in order to achieve perfection. Now that Bruce was in his right mind and would end their joint training sessions at a more reasonable point, Tim would get frustrated with him and slink off to bury himself in cases instead.
When they sparred, there were no taunting remarks, no dirty tactics designed to draw a laugh out of the Batman, no playfulness as they both began to tire out and call an unofficial end to training. Tim took it all so seriously, and it was all Bruce’s fault. He did this to the boy, and now he had to fix it. He couldn’t rely on Dick to fix all the issues his “emotional constipation” caused, no matter how appealing the idea seemed. 
Unfortunately, Bruce was not good with words, and it’s not like Tim would have been likely to listen to them anyways. Fortunately, he has another idea – it’s what made Jason eventually relax in regards to training, at least. Not that Tim was Jason. He was getting better at not making those comparisons anymore.
Though it was a bit hypocritical for him to condemn, Tim had arrived at training that day already noticeably overworked. His moves were sloppy (though sloppy for a Bat was not the same as sloppy for anyone else) and he was clearly frustrated with own mistakes and shortcomings. Tim was good at keeping a lid on his temper, but Bruce could see the tension in his jaw, the furrow in his brow, the tightness in his lips. They had only been training for a fraction of their normal time before Bruce decided to put his plan into motion, unwilling to let Tim drive himself any further into the ground.
Bruce lunged forward, ducking under a sloppy block, and managed to tackle Tim to the mat, taking extra care to protect Tim’s head and neck. Tim grunted as they hit the mat, but immediately set to squirming away instead of tapping out just as Bruce predicted. Instead of grappling him and letting him get in some practice with breaking holds, Bruce levered himself up and immediately set to vibrating his fingers into Tim’s ribs. Tim yelped and and his squirming increased tenfold, his eyes going wide and shocked.
“Bruce! What are you doing?”
Bruce’s lips quirked up. “Your block was sloppy. I’m just showing you where you need to defend.” Bruce let one hand wriggle into his armpit while the other scurried down to his stomach.
“What are you– Why– What is– Bruce!” Tim’s voice went all high-pitched and warbly as he smacked uselessly at Bruce’s hands, clearly unsure how to even defend himself.
Bruce chuckled, even as his heart ached at Tim’s confusion with affection as simple as tickling. “A little laughter never hurt anyone, Tim. No reason why training needs to hurt.”
Before he could respond, Bruce’s hands jumped up to flutter around his neck and ears, just to see him scrunch up. And scrunch up Tim did, his shoulders jumping up as high as they could while Tim scrabbled for Bruce’s wrists and shook his head in an attempt to dislodge the fingers. Finally, the dam broke and Tim burst into boyish giggles, finally looking and sounding his age for the first time since he showed up and insisted that Batman needed a Robin.
And Tim had been right, Batman had needed a Robin. But it looked like maybe Tim needed a new family. Bruce made a mental note to look into the Drake’s parenting while keeping Tim in his newfound state of giggles. Hopefully after this they could convince Tim to take a nap. And if not, well, Dick had been dying for a movie night. If anyone could get Tim to take a break, it would be him.
_____
Bruce hadn’t overseen the start of Damian’s Robin training. Instead, that responsibility had fallen to Dick, though he had been wracked with grief and presumed Bruce dead at the time. Now that Bruce was back and prepared to take on the burden of Batman once again, he could see Dick’s teachings in almost every move Damian made, melding carefully with his training from the League of Assassins. But even still, he tackled his training with a single-minded determination that could put Tim or even Bruce himself to shame – that was one thing that had not changed while Bruce was lost in the timestream.
Sometimes, it seemed like one of the only things.
Still, that didn’t mean Bruce was prepared to let Damian overwork himself. He clearly had some hangups from his life in the League, and it didn’t seem as though anyone had worked it through his head that overtraining would only harm him in the long run. Up until now, during their spars, Bruce had used the same gentle taps that he’d used to train all his boys. When the next opening in Damian’s defenses came, Bruce didn’t stop to think about his actions, so used to the years of training with his other sons. He pinched gently at Damian’s exposed ribs, both to bring attention to his weak defense and to start the process of winding training down.
Damian made a startled, choked-off noise and went tense for a brief moment, but he recovered well, swiftly disengaging from Bruce’s attack. He eyed Bruce from the other end of the mat, still balanced on his toes and ready to fight despite the sweat dripping down his brow and the exhaustion Bruce could see pulling at his limbs.
“I expect this sort of behavior from someone as frivolous as Grayson,” Damian said. “But you, Father?”
Bruce allowed the corner of his mouth to tick up. “Who do you think taught it to him?”
“Tt.” Damian sneered. “As I’ve told Grayson numerous times – games such as these have no business on the training mats.” He sniffed. “Plus, I am not a child.”
Bruce stared Damian down, in all his four-and-a-half foot, ten-year-old glory. “Of course not.”
“So we may continue training without any more of this nonsense?”
Bruce allowed a full, broad smirk to cross his face. “If you don’t want to get tickled, don’t get caught.”
Damian’s eyes went wide, and for a moment he truly looked like the young and innocent boy he should have been, but they just as swiftly narrowed in determination as he lowered himself back into a fighting stance. Even as tired as he was, Damian was able to hold his own very well – clearly a skill born of necessity. Hopefully they could convince him to pace himself eventually.
But as skilled as he was, Damian was still just a child. Eventually, he slipped up and Bruce was able to slip under his defenses. A few pokes, prods, and pinches later, Damian was on the ground, red-faced as he tried not to laugh under Bruce’s tickling fingers.
“You know,” Bruce said. “I’m told it’s much better if you just let it out.”
Damian shook his head with a jerk, trying valiantly to escape Bruce’s clutches. Unfortunately for him, Bruce was well-versed in the pinning and tickling of trained child vigilantes. Damian finally broke, kicking out with a childish shriek, when Bruce started pinching the muscles just above his knees. If it were Dick or even Tim, Bruce might’ve started teasing to get into his head and make it tickle that much more. As it was, Bruce thought Damian might bite his head off if he tried. Instead he just grinned wide, chuckling along with Damian’s surprisingly shrill laughter, and kept his cooing about how adorable his son was in his own mind.
Bruce’s attack didn’t last long. He didn’t want to push Damian too far with how exhausted he already was. Not to mention, their relationship was tentative and hesitant enough already, with Damian trying to figure out how he fit with Bruce now after the relationship he had built with Dick. Bruce only kept Damian laughing for a few minutes before releasing him and giving his hair a suitable ruffle, much to Damian’s disdain.
Maybe they’d be able to figure this out after all
_____
It was rare these days for Bruce’s sons to all be in the Manor at the same time. Rarer still for them to have gathered together on the training mats, what with how many fratricide attempts had passed between the four of them. Bruce had been planning on doing some solo exercise before patrol, but now he found himself on edge as he cautiously approached the Cave’s training area.
Bruce set aside the tape he had grabbed for his knuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Boys.”
“Hey, B!” Dick chirped, grinning from where he hung upside down on one of the pullup bars. “Getting some training in?”
He raised an eyebrow, scanning over the four of them for injuries. “I was intending to.”
Jason scoffed from where he was stretching out on the training mats. He was in nothing but a t-shirt and sweats, the most dressed down Bruce had seen him since he’d come back to them. He wore his leather jacket like a shield these days, especially on the rare occasions he visited the Manor.
“Don’t let us stop you, old man.”
Bruce hummed, turning his gaze to his two youngest. “Tim. Damian.”
“Hi, Bruce.”
“Father.”
Dick flipped off the pushup bar with a flourish. “Up for a spar, Bruce? It’s been a while.”
Bruce scanned over the four boys again, eyes narrowing. “Did you break something?”
They blinked at him.
Dick frowned. “No– B, what?”
“Did someone crash the Batmobile?”
Tim cocked his head. “No?”
“Did–”
“Jesus Christ, B,” Jason groaned. “Is it so hard to believe we can get along for one hour?”
Bruce didn’t answer. Tim snorted.
“Fair.”
“Tt.”
Bruce looked them over for any hidden injuries one last time before he relented, turning back to Dick. “As long as your brothers don’t mind us taking up the space.”
Bruce’s sons vacated the mats, leaving just him and Dick behind. As usual, Dick was a skilled opponent. They hadn’t had much chance to spar recently, the only chance Bruce had to see him fight being out in the field, and he had certainly improved. He’d been doing this almost as long as Bruce after all, it only made sense that he’d be a formidable opponent. 
Eventually, Bruce went in for a grapple. Dick was shorter than he was, and his build much smaller due to his background in acrobatics. It was good for him to practice escaping the grip of someone larger and stronger than he was. Only, Dick’s returning grapple was much sloppier than Bruce remembered it being. He frowned, easily tackling Dick down to the mats.
Like second nature, Bruce’s fingers immediately tickled near one of the openings Dick had left in his defenses. He got little more than a squeaky yelp out of Dick before he was tackled from behind with a roar. It was a move that Jason and Dick had used often in training to mess with him, back when Jason was Robin. Back then, it wound up with both boys on the mats being tickled to pieces. Unfortunately for Bruce, Jason was now much larger and had the benefits of League training making his steps far quieter. Bruce rolled with the attack with a grunt, trying not to crush Dick under their combined weight, and started grappling with Jason instead.
“Getting rusty with age, old man?”
Bruce scoffed, trying not to smile lest he scare Jason off. He couldn’t help but feel like this was progress between the two of them. “Not likely.”
Jason was almost as large as Bruce now and matched him well in strength too, but in the end, Bruce’s experience won out. Just as he started gaining the upper hand, however, Dick launched on top of the both of them. Then Tim. Then Damian. Somewhere along the way, Jason had managed to slip out from under him, adding himself to the top of the pile. Bruce collapsed down to the training mats, pinned under their collective weight.
“That was kind of a sloppy block, Bruce,” Tim said from where he was perched on one of Bruce’s legs.
“Yeah, B, come on,” Dick said. “A mugger isn’t gonna fight fair, you’re gonna have to do better than that.”
Bruce narrowed his eyes at his children. “Boys–”
Jason clucked his tongue. “And no one to save the big, bad Batman.”
Bruce knew where this was going. He probably should’ve expected it honestly, after all those years of tickling his kids to the ground. It certainly wasn’t the first time any of them had sought revenge either, simply the first time they had decided to work together as a group since Bruce was able to take them down easily on their own (or even in duos, he recalled Jason’s Robin days fondly). He was their father, of course he knew what tickle spots would have them cackling on the mats in seconds, tears in their eyes. 
Unfortunately for them, though, Bruce had trained himself out of such reactions long ago – at least to an extent. He was well-versed in burying the sensation, blocking it out until it went away, and he could hold out for quite some time. Probably more than long enough for them to get bored. There was only one weak spot that he’d never been able to block out, but they would never–
Dick gave an evil grin from where he sat on one of Bruce’s arms, reaching out and fluttering fingers behind one of Bruce’s ears. On his other side, Jason chuckled under his breath and did the same.
–Damn it, they brought Alfred into it.
Bruce let out a strangled, high-pitched noise before clamping his lips shut. He shook his head violently, trying to dislodge the tormenting fingers, but his children were nothing if not tenacious.
“Come on, Bruce,” Dick goaded. “It’s so much better if you just let yourself laugh!”
“Yeah, B,” Tim said, his fingers resting on Bruce’s side, seemingly waiting for a signal. “A little laughter never hurt anyone, right?”
“Boys,” Bruce bit out, swallowing around the snickers trying to burst out of his throat. “Cut it out.”
“If you did not want to get tickled, Father, then you should not have gotten caught.”
He raised such little shits. His own revenge for this would be swift and ruthless. The boys didn’t stand a chance. But first, he had to free himself.
Bruce tried to twist his arms out from under Dick and Jason’s weight, the tickling not having weakened him yet thanks to him holding back his laughter. Jason scoffed and added another hand to his tickling against the side of Bruce’s neck, Dick quickly following suit. And unfortunately, with the fingers behind his ears already driving him insane, Bruce had little brainpower left to block out the sensation on his neck.
Bruce broke.
His laughter came out quick, sporadic, and embarrassingly high-pitched. He tried to jerk his head away from the tickling fingers, but with Dick and Jason on either side of him, it was impossible to escape. Not to mention, apparently his laughter was the signal his youngest were waiting for, as after a few moments they both dug into their own respective spots. Tim’s hands spidered and squiggled and dug in around his side and stomach, while Damian began squeezing the muscles just above his knee, tickling around and behind it. It took all of Bruce’s self control to not kick out and throw him off – Damian was still so small, Bruce didn’t want to accidentally hurt him.
His laughter turned loud and booming as his kids switched around their spots, tickling anywhere they could reach. It echoed throughout the training area and into the Cave proper, the bats screeching in discontent as the noise disturbed their slumber.
“Damn, old man, how did none of us know you were this ticklish?”
“There you go, B! Does that tickle? That’s what you get!”
“Sorry, Bruce, but you do kinda deserve this.”
Unsurprisingly, Damian did not add into the teasing. His tickling was vicious enough to make up for it – he clearly paid far too much attention to tactics whenever Bruce or Dick tickled him to the ground. Bruce was oddly proud.
To Bruce, it felt like years before the tickling finally tapered off, though in reality he knew it hadn’t been more than several minutes. His laughter had gone hoarse, his throat and vocal chords far more used to his fake Brucie laugh than anything this genuine for this long. There was sweat dripping down his face and neck, and his muscles ached – his upper body from trying to free himself from his eldest boys, and his legs from keeping himself tense enough that he wouldn’t kick out and injure his youngest two. And embarrassingly enough, tears had gathered in his eyes, though none had managed to fall free just yet. As his boys climbed off him, Bruce could do little more than lay there and gasp for air, pushing down any residual laughter as he tried to compose himself.
“I see the revenge was a success,” Alfred said from the edge of the training mats. There was a water bottle in his hand, chilled and dripping with condensation. Bruce reached for it gratefully.
“Traitor,” he murmured under his breath.
Alfred heard it anyway, based on the unimpressed eyebrow he raised at Bruce. “If I remember correctly, Master Bruce, Master Dick was not the only little boy who ran around asking to play Tickle Monster.”
Heat flooded Bruce’s face as his children burst into laughter around him. He chugged down the water he had been given to hide the fact that he had no retort for that. Still, there was no mistaking the fond smile on Alfred’s face.
After all, a father always knew what tickle spots would take down his kid in seconds.
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rosiesramblings · 5 months ago
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Meditation, Interrupted
Fandom: Batman
Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth at the end
WC: 1k
A/N: Hello! I wrote this fic as a birthday gift to myself - the found family troupe is my weakness. I've only ever read fanfic from this fandom (no actual consumption of cannon, lol), so if everyone is OOC, that's why. I hope you enjoy!
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“Jason.”
Jason continued his meditation, giving no indication that he heard his older brother from across the cave.
“Jason. Hey, Jason,” Dick called, getting closer.
Jason continued to ignore him. At this point in his life, ignoring Dick was a skill he had honed after years of practice.
“Jay. Jason. Jason. Jason.”
Jason bit back his irritation, accepting that his meditation was well and truly over, but still keeping his eyes closed and his breathing even. With any luck, Dick would get bored and go bother the Replacement for whatever he needed.
Jason felt Dick step onto the mats where he was seated, still repeating his name.
“Jason. Jason. JasonJasonJasonJason - “
Jason deftly caught Dick’s hand before it could poke his ribs. “Do you want to die?” He bit out, finally opening his eyes to glare at the acrobat.
He was met with a shit eating grin. “Little Wing! Don’t tell me you’re still ticklish?”
It took effort not to let his reaction show on his face. “No. Lucky me, the Pit took care of that.”
Dick’s grin grew. “Oh yeah? Hm. You know what the Pit didn’t take care of?” Dick flipped out of Jason’s grasp, landing behind him with his hands on Jason’s sides. “The tips of your ears still turn red when you’re lying.”
Dick squeezed his sides, and Jason lurched forward with a gasp he couldn’t quite strangle. Dick spidered his hands up to Jason’s ribs, and this time Jason didn’t manage to stifle his snickers.
“Fuhuhck off, Dihihckhead, I’m not in the mohohood.”
“Awwww, Little Wing, you might be worse than when you were a kiddo!” Dick teased, watching delightedly as red crept up the back of his little brother’s neck.
Jason quickly decided that was enough of that, thank you, and spun around, tackling his older brother to the ground. “Mahahybe. But unluckily for you, I’ve got ahabout 40 pounds on you these days.”
Dick barely had time to wheeze out a shocked, “Shit!” before Jason dug his fingers into Dick’s underarms and vibrated his fingers back and forth.
Dick immediately burst into cackles. “WAHAHAIT, WAIT, NOHOHOHO,” he managed, his pleas echoing around the cave.
“What’s wrong, Dickie? Can dish it out, but can’t take it?” Jason asked, removing one hand from under his arms to scribble across his brother’s tummy.
“Jahahahahahay, Jahahay, plehehehehehease, Ihihih’m sohohohorry!”
“Mmm, yeah, I don’t care,” Jason said as he reached down to grab one of Dick’s thighs and squeeze.
Dick hollered, begging, as his little brother showed no mercy to his worst spot. He writhed, trying to escape, but apparently more than a decade of vigilante work flew out the window when his brother was murdering him with tickles.
“Don’t forget, Dickie, I’m the biggest one in the family now,” Jason taunted, giving his brother a break by scritching at his knees, not wanting him to actually pass out.
Suddenly, there was a shadow looming over Jason’s shoulder. A deep voice rumbled, “Biggest save for one, Jaylad,” before Jason was unceremoniously tackled to the mats, off of his older brother.
Jason could do little more than suck in a breath before his adoptive father was attacking his ribs with frightening precision. Jason threw his head back as ticklish shocks swarmed his senses, laughing like a loon. 
“FuhuhuhuhUCK! SHIHIHIT, DAHAMMIT, B, WAHAHAHAHIT!” 
“Mmmm, no, thank you.” His father said fondly. “It’s been altogether too long since I’ve heard you laugh.”
“Get him B!” Dick cheered tiredly from the sidelines, still recovering from his own torment.
“FUHUHUCK OHOHOHOFF, DIHIHIHICKHEAD!” Jason bellowed as Bruce attacked his underarms ruthlessly.
“Do you remember what I used to do to get you to screech like a banshee?” Bruce asked, grinning down at his second-eldest son. “Alfred came running with his shotgun the first time I did it.”
Jason’s eyes widened and he started fighting back even harder. “Nohohoho, nohohot thahat, plehehease, B, I cahahahan’t - “ he babbled as Bruce slowly ruched up his workout top, exposing his tummy. 
Bruce smiled as Jason sucked in his tummy as far as it would go, shaking his head back and forth. He leaned down, keeping eye contact with his frantic kid, before taking in a deep breath and blowing a raspberry right over Jason’s belly button.
“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA,” Jason arched off the ground, his head thrown back as his hysterical laughter filled the cave. “PLEHEHEHEHEHE - DAHAHAHAHAD, I CAHAHAHAHAHAN’T!”
Bruce took one more breath, knowing Jason was close to his limit, before ducking back down and blowing one final raspberry, shaking his head back and forth so that his stubble would catch on his son’s skin and tickle even more.
Jason’s laughter went silent, tears beading in the corners of his eyes as he rode out the ticklish sensations. Bruce sat up and pulled Jason’s shirt back into place, still grinning as his son’s laughter continued. Jason curled into a ball, still giggling, arms firmly around his tummy to guard against any more attacks, but none were coming.
“He’s too precious,” Dick stage-whispered, sitting up and mirroring Bruce’s fond expression. Then at a normal volume, “Still want to try and convince me the Pit ‘took care of it’?”
Jason, still giggling, uncurled one arm enough to flip Dick the bird.
Dick still wasn’t done. “Is it true that Alfred ran in with a shotgun the first time you gave him a raspberry?” he asked Bruce, smirking.
“I don't know that I’d ever seen him move that fast,” Bruce remembered, then yelped as the butler in question appeared behind him and deftly scribbled across the back of Bruce’s neck.
“I’ll remind you of my extensive knowledge of your own spots, Master Bruce,” Alfred sniffed reprovingly, handing bottles of water to Jason and Dick as Bruce rubbed away the ghost tickles.
Jason, panting but recovered enough to sit upright, smirked. “Alfie’s got my back. ‘Specially against you cheaters.”
“Quite so, Master Jason.”
“Whatever you say, Jaybird.”
“Of course, Jaylad.”
“Fuck off.”
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toki-macross · 2 years ago
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This is the finished first page of my Batblobs! As well as a smol page of the bittybatblobs. So they got put all together for the little ones. This was super fun, and I will probably fill more pages another time.
https://www.redbubble.com/people/LilBitCreative/shop?asc=u
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13phantom13angel13 · 11 months ago
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What Big Brother’s Are For
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: To the anon who requested brotherly love tickles for Jason and Dick, here you are!
Content warning: there’s a bit of angst in the beginning. So beware!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dick could tell Jason was having a hard time. He seemed to be a bit down in the dumps recently. But, Dick knew the stubborn man wouldn’t willingly talk about his feelings. So the most he could do was show Jason he was there for him if he ever wanted to talk.
That day came unexpectedly during a heavy storm while they were sitting in Jason’s apartment. Lightning illuminated the living room as a loud clap of thunder followed. Dick saw Jason visibly jump at the sound, his entire body going rigid. The worry from his older brother became palpable to Jason as he turned to look at him. Dick was staring at him in thinly veiled concern. Jason sighed heavily, looking down at his hands.
“I guess you never really get over the fear…”
Dick stayed quiet, but continued to look at Jason; a silent indication that he was still listening if he chose to continue. Jason scrubbed a hand down his face as he leaned forward to rest his arms on his knees.
“It just reminds me of that night, you know?” Jason’s voice quieted a bit as he continued, “It sounds like an explosion sometimes…”
Dick’s eyes saddened upon hearing that. He never thought that the sound of thunder could remind Jason of the night that Joker took his life. Took him from the people who loved him the most.
Without saying a word, Dick scooted over next to Jason and wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug. To his surprise, Jason didn’t pull away. In fact, he hesitantly returned the hug, clinging to Dick’s shirt with trembling hands. Dick hated that his brother had to go through that; hated that he had to continue dealing with the after effects of that night. It broke his heart to see Jason so downtrodden.
“You’re home now and you’re safe. Nothing will ever take you away from us again, Jay. Nothing will ever take you away from me. I’ll protect you.” Dick rubbed his back soothingly as he whispered to him. Jason nodded, resting his head on Dick’s shoulder.
Dick continued to rub his back for a bit, until Jason started to tense up. Dick had started to stray a little too close to the back of his ribs, a secret weak spot that no one knew about. Except Roy. Dick lifted his head to look down at Jason, noticing his cheeks starting to flush as a smile fought to come to the surface.
A delighted smile came across Dick’s lips.
“Oh…what’s this, Jaybird?” Dick asked as he wiggled his fingers into the back of Jason’s ribs.
Jason’s back arched as a surprised squeal ripped out of his throat. He quickly grabbed ahold of Dick’s arms to try to pry them away as his back arched to get away. That proved to have the opposite effect of what he wanted. He arched right into Dick’s embrace, furthering his entrapment. Dick continued to tickle him in the same spot.
“I didn’t know you were ticklish here!” He exclaimed, wiggling his fingers faster. By this point, giggles had began to bubble up out of Jason against his will. No amount of squirming was going to get him out of this.
“Dihihick! Plehehehehease! Dohohohon’t tihihihickle!” Jason begged.
“Why not? It’s so cute that you’re so ticklish.” Dick chuckled fiendishly as his tickling fingers moved lower down on his ribs. Jason’s giggling started to border on actual laughter as he continued to squirm as best he could in his brother’s arms.
“Nohohohoho! Please nohohoho!” Even with just the smallest amount of tickling, Jason was weakened. If Dick continued his assault downwards towards his sides, it would be over.
And what did Dick do? Yep. He went lower. His fingers now traced silly patterns on the lowest part of his ribs, right around his kidneys. That was it. Jason exploded into hysterical laughter as his back arched as far as it could go in his position.
“FUHUHUHUHCK! DIHIHICK STAHAHAHAHAHAP! I CAHAHAHAHAN’T TAHAHAHAKE IT!”
Dick was surprised by his reaction. He thought his hips were the only spot that gave such a strong reaction. Dick was starting to have a hard time keeping Jason in his arms as he flopped backwards. He dug in a little harder.
If Jason thought he was done for before, he truly was now. His laughter went silent as he toppled backwards on to the couch, dragging Dick along with him. With him now flat on his back, Dick moved his fingers to his stomach.
“Wow. That’s a nice little goldmine there,” he chuckled. “That seems like a close second to your hips.” He remarked.
“Ihihihit tihihihihickles sohohoho bahahad there! Now cuhuhut it out! I gihihihive!” Jason tapped Dick’s arm in a sign of surrender. Dick chuckled, stilling his tickling fingers as he sat back up.
“Feel better now?” Jason nodded as he caught his breath, also sitting up.
“Yeah, I do…” he admitted a bit shyly. He leaned against Dick, closing his eyes. “Thank you, Dickiebird. For always being there when I need you and putting up with my shit.”
Dick smiled fondly as he wrapped an arm around Jason’s shoulder.
“Any time, little wing. That’s what big brother’s are for.”
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not-another-robin · 2 years ago
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Stupid headcanon of the day: Bruce had a one day downward spiral about male pattern baldness. He started finding more hair in the shower and, because he is a vain creature at heart, started panicking about how he's already losing hair and he'll be bald by 45 and blah blah blah, all until Alfred had to very gently but sternly explain to him no, Master Bruce, you do not struggle with male pattern baldness, because your father did not have it, and I cannot pass it down to you because you are not biologically related to me
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fluffyweeby · 16 days ago
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Tickletober day 14 - Lose
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Part 2 tooo:
Prompts by @tickletober 💜
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kourtniwritesagain · 1 year ago
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Say it with Me Now...Sleep!
A/N: I wrote a similar story years ago, but I seriously can’t find it ANYWHERE. This is my attempt at not exactly rewriting it but doing something equally as fun. So, enjoy sleep-deprived Timmy Drake-Wayne. 
Listen, Tim is well aware that he is not exactly the most forthcoming when it comes to information about his general well-being. He knows that he's technically lying. However, everyone lies, right? Like, Dick lies about having free time so he can help whoever needs it when his shoulders can't possibly hold any more weight. Jason lies about hating everyone when he loves the hardest. Damian lies about never caring about feelings when he feels the most. Duke lies about not feeling like an outsider even though everyone knows he still hasn't accepted his position in the family. Cass lies about… okay, well, Cass doesn't lie. But Bruce! Bruce lies about freaking everything. So…Tim lying about sicknesses, injuries, and sleep isn't like…out of the ordinary in Tim's family. So he doesn't really feel bad about lying to Alfred about getting a full night's sleep the previous night. 
Well, he doesn't feel too bad. 
Tim had, at one point in his life, gotten a full night's sleep. It just wasn't last night. Or the night before that…and so on and so forth. Now that Tim was thinking about it, he'd been up for a full three days. Not his longest record, but the longest in at least six months. Tim is currently working on three cases for Batman Inc., multiple marketing packages for Wayne Enterprises, and two school reports. The cases are what's taking most of his time. 
The first case has to do with Scarecrow. Tim believes Crane is working with a new supplier, someone outside of Gotham. He hasn't been able to find out who it is, but he's at least narrowed it down to either Star City or Metropolis. The second case concerns Ivy, which really sucks because she's been relatively quiet ever since she and Harley got together. Honestly, Tim isn't really sure it is Ivy, but it's got to do with these weird plants popping up around the city that shoot some kind of ichor at anyone who gets near. It wouldn't be that big of a deal if it weren't for the fact that the ichor causes blindness for up to two weeks. Tim's been working on a cure, but so far, he hasn't had much luck. Hence, he really needs to talk to Ivy. The third case deals with Victor Zsasz…or, at least, Tim thinks it does. There's been a string of near murders of sex workers in Crime Alley. Jason has been working on it for two weeks, but he's never caught anyone in the action. Jason came to Tim four nights ago to ask for help, which is very usual for Jason. Usually, he sends files and assumes Tim will help. Jason's case is Tim's number one priority. Zsasz is toying with people at the moment. It's only a matter of time before it turns into actual murder. 
So, that is why he's currently working on his third night of no sleep. The importance of these cases, Jason's in particular, is also why Tim just lied (again) to Alfred and Bruce about his overall well-being. Again, Tim's not stupid. He knows Alfred and Bruce can see the bags under his eyes, the slump in his shoulders, and the copious amounts of empty energy drink cans and coffee mugs that littered his room. They didn't call him out on it, so they must believe it's not as bad as it really is. Alfred and Bruce leave the Cave, and Tim continues his work on the Batcomputer. 
"Hey, any news on my case?" 
Tim looks up and sees Jason sauntering in, his hood under his arm. 
"Not much. I have some hunches," says Tim. "But nothing concrete yet." 
Jason sighs. 
"I'm trying, Jay." Tim mutters, feeling guilty.  
Jason rolls his eyes. "I'm not mad at you, Timberly. The sigh is in general of the fucking suckiness of the situation, not directed at you." 
"Still…I can't seem to crack this the way I want." 
"Welcome to my world. Why do you think I asked for your help? You look like shit by the way." 
Tim flips him off and then yawns, large and long. 
"The fuck was that?" Jason asks. 
Tim rolls his eyes. "A yawn, Jason. Surely you've experienced one." 
Jason walks to Tim and smacks the back of his head. "Ass."  
"You're the ass…ass." Tim replies. 
"Now I know you're outta sorts. That was the lamest comeback." Jason says. "When's the last time you slept?" 
"Yesterday." Tim lies. 
Jason squints at him. "Yeah…and Alfred is the Queen of England." 
"I'm fine." 
Jason snorts and places his hand on Tim's forehead. 
"I don't have a fever, Jason." says Tim, swatting at Jason's hands. Jason reaches down and tweaks Tim's left side. Tim immediately folds inward with a laugh. 
"Too easy." Jason smirks as he continues scribbling his fingers along Tim's ribs and sides.  
"Screw youhu!" Tim laughs, trying to catch Jason's hands as he squirms in the seat. 
"I dunno, this seems like a good way to tire you out." 
"Plehehease!" Tim is defenseless when it comes to tickling. It's like his brain decides to stop working, and all he can do is curl up and beg for mercy.
Jason spends a few more seconds poking and prodding along Tim's ribcage before he finally ceases his attack. 
"I swear, you're the most ticklish person on the fuckin' planet." Jason is grinning smugly. 
Tim knows he's got a goofy grin on his face, but he musters up a scowl regardless. "And I swear you're the biggest prick on the planet." 
"Go to sleep, Tim. I know you're on at least day two of no sleep." 
"As soon as I get some solid info on your case and finish my crap from WE, I will." 
Jason squints at him. Tim thinks for a moment that his older brother is going to argue with him more. However, Jason shrugs his shoulders, waves a dismissive hand toward Tim, and then walks out of the Cave. Tim sighs in relief and turns back to the computer. He knows he's close to proving it's Zsasz behind the attacks. He'll definitely sleep once he proves it.
^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^
Tim proves it's Zsasz, but he does not sleep. There's no time. Bruce will be the one to help Jason with the takedown of Zsasz because he's a Tier-One Villain, and Batman isn't going to allow Red Hood to do it on his own nor allow Red Robin to be Hood's only backup. Tim put up a fight, arguing that he could at least help, especially considering it was Tim that figured it all out. He’s overruled by a simple ‘Hn’ from Bruce and a smirk from Jason. Tim spends the next day tracking down Ivy. Turns out, she was working the case as well. Tim corners her at a greenhouse in downtown Gotham. 
"Of course, you're the one working this." Pamela says without taking her eyes off the plant, she's currently cultivating. 
"Should I be offended by that statement?" Tim asks. Tim thinks that, although he's had a direct hand in a few of her arrests, they've at least worked together a few times in the past year to develop a good rapport. 
Pam turns to look at him and rolls her eyes. "No. I was just hoping that perhaps the Bat would be here instead." 
"He's finishing up with that Zsasz situation." Tim tells her. "So, you're stuck with me." 
"Any leads?" She asks. 
That's confirmation for Tim that Ivy isn't behind the plants. 
"None." Tim replies. 
Ivy hums in response. 
"It's not any plant I've seen. I don't think it's even from Earth." 
"Fan-freaking-tastic…" Tim sighs. This is just what he needs, a freaking alien plant. "Should probably get the Justice League on this if you think it's extraterrestrial." 
Ivy doesn't look convinced. "Must we?" 
"I think it's best, Dr. Isley. They're better equipped to find its origin and an antidote. I've been trying to make one myself, but it hasn't been as effective as I want." 
Ivy sighs. "Fine. Can I ask you to keep me posted on how this shakes up? I've had a few too many dirty looks in my direction." 
Tim nods. "Of course."
"Thanks, Little Bird." 
Tom rolls his eyes. "I'm 17 now, you know."
Pam smiles at him with a bit of fondness in her eyes and walks away. "Yes, but you'll always be a Little Bird to me." 
"Dr. Isley!" Tim calls. Pam halts and turns to look at him. "Don't let anyone look down on you, okay? Gothamites don't have the moral high ground most of the time." 
Ivy simply smiles softly at him and leaves. 
"Time to get a sample to JL." Tim mutters to himself as he harvests a few of the plants. 
^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^
It's day six of less than four hours of sleep total, and it's actually starting to bother Tim. He's still so busy, though. The Justice League is taking care of the plant situation, Zsasz is in Arkham (with Jason nursing three broken ribs and a sprained wrist), and two of the three WE marketing packages are complete. However, not a single one of Tim's assignments is done, and Tim has two more cases to add to his workload. He's slumping over the desk in Bruce's office. He was kicked out of the Cave about an hour ago by Bruce, who apparently needed to have a meeting with Superman and Flash. Tim hopes it's about the plants, but he's unable to spy as he really needs to finish his schoolwork so he can start writing the reports from his previous cases. He's still trying to find the supplier for Cane, too. He’s minutes away from a full-blown migraine and typing mindlessly on the computer when he hears a knock on the door. 
"Tim? You in there?" Dick's voice comes from the other side of the door. 
Tim grunts in response. 
Dick opens the door. "What're you doing in Bruce's office?" 
"M'workin'." Tim winces at how slurred his speech is. 
"On what?" Dick asks; he's behind Tim now, leaning over him and staring at the computer Tim's working on.
"School crap, some WE stuff, and a case or two."
"How’s it going?"
Tim shrugs. 
"So, I’ve heard from a few birds you’re not sleeping much." 
Tim lets his head fall to the desk as he groans. "Tell Jason to mind his own business." 
Tim can hear the soft smile on Dick’s face. "It wasn’t just Jason." 
Tim looks up at his older brother. "M’fine. I’ve gotten a few hours here and there." 
Dick smiles that sad smile of his, which makes Tim feel like absolute shit. 
"I’m fine Dick; I promise." 
"I wish I could believe you," says Dick. "But you’ve got the worst truth-telling record in this family." 
"What?! No way! Bruce holds that title, c’mon!" Tim practically shouts. 
Dick seems to consider what Tim says. "Okay, second worst." 
Tim scowls at him. 
"Grayson, I--oh." Damian is suddenly in the room, scowling at Tim immediately. "Drake, you look terrible." 
"No one asked for your opinion, Demon Brat." Tim responds, barely stopping himself from sticking his tongue out. 
"Tt. Drake, this isn’t an insult. I do truly mean that you look terrible. When was the last time you slept? Also, are you ill?"
"You’re sick?" Dick’s voice is even more full of concern now. 
"I’m not sick! I’m just a little tired." Tim sighs, rubbing his temples. The headache he’s been trying to stave off the last three days is significantly closer than just a few minutes ago. 
"Headache, too?" Dick asks kindly. 
"Yes, because you and the Baby Assassin are bothering me." Tim mumbles. There’s no real heat behind it.
"I loathe that name." Damian says. 
Dick ruffles his hair, garnering a squawk from Damian. "It’s a term of endearment Dee. It means Timmy loves you." 
Both Tim and Damian snort at the same time. 
"Can I please finish my work?" Tim asks tiredly. He can feel a full-blown migraine coming on, and he thinks that he may be overdoing it somewhat. 
"Uh…Tim? You’re not exactly making sense with your…work." Dick winces as he shows Tim the computer screen.
"Oh."
On the screen are just a bunch of letters and numbers all over the place. 
Okay…maybe he really has pushed it too far. 
"Will you please go to sleep?" Dick asks. He bends down in front of Tim, making himself eye level. Dick places a hand on Tim’s forehead, checking for a fever. 
"I will as soon as I finish my school assignments." Tim semi-promises. Sleep doesn’t come as easy to Tim as it does to most people, especially once he’s this far gone. 
Dick sighs, but stands and motions for Damian to follow him out. 
"Drake…honestly." Damian sighs as he takes a look at Tim. 
"Damian, I’m okay." 
"Tt."
The door closes and Tim grabs another energy drink from the minifridge and downs it. With a shake of his aching head, Tim focuses on the work in front of him. 
Three hours later, Tim’s completely engrossed on the last page of his paper for his English class when Bruce comes in. He looks surprised to see Tim. 
"Oh, hey Tim. I didn’t know you were in here." Bruce says. 
"You kicked me outta the Cave," Tim replies. "And I wanted to use your two monitors. I can leave if you need me to." Tim is rising as he says this, he stumbles a bit and Bruce is by his side with Tim’s elbow in his hand. 
"Easy there, kiddo." Bruce soothes, helping Tim to sit back down. "I don’t mind you using my office. It’s free for you to use when you want. However, I do mind you almost falling for simply standing up. Are you injured?" 
"No…I-I’m fine. Just been up a little longer than I should’ve, probably." 
"He’s been up for six days." A, quite frankly, livid, voice says from the doorway. Tim’s head whips up and he sees Damian standing there, hands clenched into tight fists, and one of the angriest expressions Tim has ever seen gracing his face. Dick is behind him, and so is Jason, both looking angry and sad and exasperated all at the same time. Bruce looks shocked, which is saying something. He turns to look down at Tim. 
"Is this true?"
Tim gulps, but isn’t able to say anything because Damian cuts across him. "Do not even attempt to lie. I looked at the security footage. You haven’t spent more than two hours at a time in any one room in this house, excluding the Cave. However, you haven’t slept there either because the Cave security footage hasn’t shown you sleeping at any point!" 
"Damian…I-"
Damian raises a hand to stop Tim. "I don’t want to hear it. You may have no forethought to your health and wellbeing, but others do. And if you are going to insist on attempting to take yourself away from us earlier than what is the normal lifespan of an adult male in America, then you’re going to do so fighting me. And with the current state you’re in, it’d be an even more pathetic fight than when you’re in full form." 
Jason places a hand on Damian’s shoulder, which Tim expects him to throw off. However, Damian doesn’t. In fact, it looks like it anchors their youngest sibling. 
"Honestly Tim, six days? Even for you that’s excessive." Jason says. 
"Bed." Bruce demands. It’s not his Batman voice. It’s not even his angry voice. It’s the voice he uses when he won’t budge. It’s the voice he uses when he’s in meetings and flexing his full CEO authority. It’s the voice he learned from Alfred. It’s the voice he uses when there’s no room for argument. 
Tim tries anyway, though, because he has no sense of self-preservation. "Bruce I  need to finish my homework, I--"
"You have a death wish, Timmy." Dick sighs. 
"You can go to sleep on your own, or I can administer something to help. That is the only choice you’re going to receive for the next several days." Bruce states. Now he sounds (and looks) angry. Tim knows he’s pushing it…has pushed it. He does. He just…there’s so much he needs to do. And Bruce can’t seriously be trying to ground him. 
"You can’t ground me, Bruce, I’m 17-"
"You can go to sleep on your own or I can administer something to help." Bruce says it quietly, but Tim hears and sees the fury simmering there. 
Tim swallows again; he looks to his two older siblings and knows there will be no help. Jason looks exasperated beyond all reason. Dick looks like Tim just kicked his dog and then set his house on fire. He doesn’t have to look at Damian to know he looks exactly like Bruce. 
He’s lost. He knows he’s lost. 
"I…I may need some help." Tim admits quietly, feeling his face heat up extensively. 
Bruce’s fury melts a bit at that. "I’ll have Alfred make the tea." 
"He’s got a headache, too. Add some acetaminophen. We’ll get him to bed, Bruce." Dick says. He reaches for Tim and helps steer him out of the room and to the stairs. Jason and Damian follow. 
"You don’t have to follow me; I’m seriously going to go to my room." Tim tells them. 
"Tt. Your word on this matter means very little." 
"Sorry, Baby Bird. I agree with Baby Bat." Jason tells Tim. "You’ve seriously crossed the line this time." 
Tim hangs his head in shame.
"Not now guys." Dick retorts rather sharply. Tim doesn’t deserve Dick’s kindness. 
"M’sorry." Tim tells them as they reach his room. "I didn’t mean for it to go on this long. Honestly." 
Dick shushes him as he looks for some pajamas. 
"No. Seriously. I didn’t…I don’t mean to…" Tim can feel the tears welling in his eyes. It’s frustrating beyond reason. 
"Get dressed, and get in bed, Timmers." Dick presses a kiss to the top of his head as he and the others walk out. 
Tim does as he’s told. The tears spill onto his cheeks. He knows he’s truly screwed everything up. Everyone is furious with him. He can only imagine the lecture he’s going to get from Alfred. He’s not just going to be grounded; he’s going to be benched permanently. If he can’t be trusted to sleep like a normal human being, he definitely can’t be trusted out in the field. His head starts pounding even harder, and he stumbles into his bed with his knees curled into his stomach. 
"Tim?" Bruce is walking in, but Tim is trying really hard to get air into his lungs. He feels Bruce grab his shoulders and set him into a sitting position. One of Bruce’s hands grabs his and places it on the older man’s chest, right over his heart. The other hand grabs the back of Tim’s neck, resting there lightly. 
"Breathe with me, kiddo." 
Tim tries his hardest to focus on the beating of Bruce’s heart, of the movement of his chest rising and falling. Bruce squeezes his hand very exhale, trying to anchor him, Tim assumes. It takes some time, but eventually Tim’s breathing slows and returns to normal. It has been almost a year since Tim last had a panic attack. He forgot how much they suck. 
"Whatever you’re thinking," says Bruce. "I promise isn’t true. No one is going to kick you out, no one is going to fire you, and no one hates you or is mad at you." 
"Damian is both of those last things. And you’re all mad. I get it." Tim replies. 
Bruce hands him the steaming mug of drugged tea. If Tim knows Alfred as well as he thinks he does, there’s definitely a high dose of sleeping aid in the tea. Tim sips it at first, but downs it quickly, feeling it burn his throat. 
"Slow down there, Tim." Bruce chastises. "You don’t need to punish yourself." 
"I just wanna go to bed." Tim tells his adopted father. Bruce looks at him with those sad eyes of his, making Tim feel a million times worse, which is really saying something because he feels like dog shit. 
"Sweetheart, c’mere." Bruce climbs into the bed and lifts up his arm, offering Tim to snuggle in, which the boy does. "We’re mad, yes. We’re mad that you seem to be unable to take care of yourself properly. We’re mad that you always push yourself too far. We’re mad that we don’t catch it quick enough to help. But we’re not mad at you in the sense that is going through your head. We all love you."
Tim wants to believe it. 
"Not even Damian doesn’t hate you." 
Tim snorts. 
"He doesn’t." Bruce insists, digging his fingers into Tim’s ribs. Tim gasps and laughs as Bruce doesn’t let up. 
"Stahap!" Tim begs. Tim is seriously ticklish on his ribs; it’s one of his worst spots, and Bruce knows it. 
Bruce chuckles fondly as he brings both hands to Tim’s ribcage. Tim is letting out some serious giggles now. He’s trying to fight against Bruce, but the tea is setting in, and Tim’s not the most coordinated person when tickled. 
"Promise to sleep and not stay up for six days straight ever again?" Bruce asks, not ceasing his tickle attack. He digs his fingers in between the bones of Tim’s ribs. 
"Yehehes! I-I prohohomise!" Tim gets out, squirming madly. It tickles so damn much!
Bruce finally stops tickling. Tim sags into Bruce’s side while he rubs his ribs to get rid of the residual tickly feelings. 
"You’re too good at that." Tim tells him. 
Bruce kisses the top of his head. "You’re too easy. I think you may be more ticklish than Damian." 
Now that was interesting information. 
"Damian is ticklish?!" 
Bruce winces. "I don’t think I was supposed to mention that." 
"Oh th-thaaaat--" Tim cuts himself off with a loud yawn. 
"Bed." Bruce says, pressing another kiss against the top of Tim’s head. "No worrying either, we can talk tomorrow about better ways to keep yourself healthy." 
"G’night, dad." Tim whispers, already falling asleep. 
"Good night, son." 
^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^
When Tim wakes up, he’s dazed and confused. The sun is gone and his clock tells him it’s nine at night. 
"It’s been 18 hours, Drake."
Tim whips his head and sees Damian sketching in the armchair next to his bed. 
"What?" 
"You slept for 18 hours," Damian repeats, sounding thoroughly annoyed. "Pennyworth has a plate of dinner waiting for you when you are ready to eat." 
Tim scrubs a hand down his face. "Eighteen hours, huh?" 
"With the amount of stress you put on your body, I am shocked you didn’t sleep longer." 
"Yeah…wasn’t my best plan I guess."
"Tt. Consider it your worst. That is saying something, too, as you usually have terrible plans." There’s no real heat behind Damian’s words. The two of them have grown a lot since Damian first came. They respect one another now. They work pretty well together, too. Their form of communication may look especially harsh to an outsider, but to them, it’s brotherly banter. 
Tim rolls his eyes. "Pretty sure I was the one who took down Zsasz earlier this week."
Damian looks at him. "Father and Todd took him down."
"Physically, maybe. But it was me who found out everything. So, if you think about it, it was all of my plans that took him down." 
"Tt. In your dreams, Drake."
Tim moves to sit on the side of his bed. "Hey." 
Damian looks at him once more. "What?"
"I’m sorry for scaring you," Tim apologizes. "I didn’t mean to." 
Damian replies stiffly, "I was not scared. I was mad at your stupidity."
"I’m sorry for making you mad, then." 
Damian scowls deeply at him. "Do you realize the stress you put on others when you pull these types of stunts? We have enough stress without others adding to it with idiotic decisions. You need to better care for yourself. You aren’t a machine, Drake, and you’re not alone. There are others in this family that could’ve taken a case or two. Furthermore, you hate school, so I do not understand your need to finish assignments you don’t care about." 
Tim feels really bad. 
"I didn’t do it on purpose, if that helps." Tim tells his little brother. "I get…focused, I guess. I know you guys can help me, I just…I dunno. I feel like I can do it better, I suppose. That’s really narcissistic of me, I know." 
Damian only scowls further. "You aren’t a narcissist; you’re an idiot. There’s a difference."
"How many more times are you going to call me an idiot?" Tim asks, a wry smile on his face. 
"As many times as it takes." Damian smirks.
Tim rolls his eyes this time. He stands and squats in front of the chair so he’s eye level with Damian. "I won’t do it again."
"Tt." 
Tim places a hand on Damian’s shoulder. "I promise, Damian." 
Damian looks at Tim now. "You…you are important to this family."
"Does that include you?" Tim teases. 
Damian shoves Tim’s hand off his shoulders. "Ugh. I’m finished with this sappy moment. I’m leaving."
Domain tries to stand to leave, but Tim is feeling much better after his sleep, and he’s in a mischievous mood, so he grabs Damian around the waist and pulls him into a hug. 
"Drake! Unhand me!"
"We have to hug, Demon," says Tim. "Dickie will be upset if we don’t." 
Damian is squirming furiously as he attempts to free himself from Tim’s grip. "Grayson isn’t even here!" 
"He could walk in any minute, though. I wanna make sure we do him proud!" Tim squeezes tighter, causing Damian to yelp. It reminds Tim of what Bruce told him before he fell asleep. 
Tim smiles deviously. "I heard some interesting information about you from Bruce." Tim places his hands on Damian’s sides with his fingers curled in, an evil grin growing as he feels Damian instantly still. 
"Drake…" It’s a warning, but Tim isn’t concerned. 
"Damian." 
"Whatever Father told you, h-he was clearly lying!" Damian still doesn’t move, and Tim knows it’s because every movement would tickle with the way Tim’s hands are positioned. 
"Bruce lies at times," Tim concedes. "But I don’t think he was lying about this. Tell me, Dee, are you ticklish?"
Damian’s eyes go wide. "N-No! Of c-course not!"
"Bruce said you were." 
"He lied!"
Tim shrugs his shoulders, pretending to give up. However, the moment Damian relaxes, Tim tosses the smaller boy on the bed and pounces, immediately tickling Damian’s stomach. 
"DRAKE!" Damian absolutely screeches. Tim knows he’s going to die after this, but he’s okay with it. Damian succumbs to laughter rather quickly. He has such a cute laugh, sounding and looking like the 12-year-old he is. 
"Bruce was right!" Tim crows. He scrabbles all 10 of his fingers all around Damian’s belly. The closer he gets to Damian’s sides and ribs, the louder his laughter gets, and the more he squirms. Damian seems to be like Tim, though, and super uncoordinated when tickled because Tim is still alive and breathing. Damian is swearing like a sailor at him, but that’s about it. 
"What the fuck is going on in--oh…now this is good." 
Tim looks at the doorway, not pausing his tickly assault on Damian’s torso, and sees Jason with the biggest grin on his face that Tim’s ever seen. 
"T-Tohohodd! I r-require assISTANCE!" Damian squeals out the last part of the word as Tim shoots his arms to Damian’s underarms. 
"I think Timmy requires my assistance," Jason’s grin turns more shark-like. "How did I not know you were ticklish, Baby Bat?"
Damian doesn’t answer. He’s too busy holding his middle as best he can, laughter pouring out of his mouth. His heels are drumming against the bed, and Tim is grinning widely himself. He’s never heard Damian laugh like this before. 
"Are you guys killing Damian?" Dick enters the room next. "Oh…you’re just tickling him. Try his neck next, Timmy. That’s his death spot." 
"GRAYHAYSON!" Damian shrieks as Tim lightly pinches at the back of Damian’s neck. Damian’s laughter goes high pitched. "T-TIM, pleheHEASE!" 
It went on for two more minutes before Dick rescues Damian by telling Tim to stop. Tim moves off Damian and grins down at the panting boy. "You called me by my name." 
Damian pants for another few seconds, a silly grin on his face. It doesn’t last long, though, because he soon scowls fiercer than Tim’s ever seen and then jumps at Tim. Dick catches him around the middle and holds Damian away from Tim.
"Let me go, Grayson! I will have my revenge!" 
"Sorry Dames, but Tim needs to eat. He needs to sleep after that, again--don’t look at me like that, Tim--and you need to get ready for patrol." 
Damian flips Tim off but stops struggling against Dick’s hold. Dick sets him down and grins. "Everyone’s ticklish, Damian. If you can imagine it, Tim’s probably more ticklish than you." 
"Dick!" Tim throws his oldest brother a betrayed look. 
"Oh definitely. The kid’s ribs are like a 10 on the Richter scale," Jason adds. "One poke to his ribs has him swearing his first born to you. He’s deathly ticklish on his ribs." 
"Jason!" Tim throws the same betrayed look to his immediate older brother.
"Sorry, little brother. It’s true." Dick laughs. 
Tim looks at Damian and gulps. Damian looks smug. No, he looks worse than smug. He looks like he’s plotting. 
"Damian…I-I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again!" Tim has his hands up. 
"Oh, I know it won’t. I’ll ensure the lesson you learn will keep you from making that mistake ever again." 
"Oh! Are we going to tickle Tim next?" Dick asks. "It’s been a while!" 
"You asshats are gonna leave me alone!" Tim warns. "Remember, I have lots of pictures that I can release on the internet at a moment’s notice." 
"He’s bluffing." Jason snorts. "He won’t post them on the internet, Bruce would kill him." 
Damian’s smirk grows. 
"I’m totally in on this plan, though," Jason continues. "Tickling Tim till he forgets his own damn name sounds like fun." 
Tim feels his stomach flip flop with excitement and trepidation. He’s never been teamed up against like that and has no clue what it’ll feel like, but he has a feeling he’s about to find out. 
"What about you, Grayon? Will you join in my revenge?" Damian asks. 
Tim sends a pleading look to Dick. 
"Well…he really needs to eat." Dick says. Tim sighs in relief. "But I suppose he can wait another half hour or so."
"Half hour?! The fu-NO! Nohoho!" 
Tim doesn’t do much more than laugh for quite some time.
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titters-and-tingles · 11 months ago
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Hello @fluffyweeby and, happy holidays I believe? I don't celebrate Christmas but I looked it up and apparently it's from December 25th all the way til January 5th! You learn something new every day.
Here's your gift for the @squealing-santa !!
Last Cookie
Fandom- Batman: Wayne Family Adventures
It's a tickle fight between Jason and Dick ^-^!
____________________________________
When Jason gets back from patrol, all he wants is a sweet treat to take the edge off. The cookie jar had been full this morning, so it was reasonable to assume that there would be some for him now.
No such luck. The jar is sitting out on the table, empty. Beside it is Dick.
He's caught dead, a cookie halfway to his mouth.
They make eye contact.
Dick smiles a disarming smile. "Hey Jason."
Jason smiles back, all teeth. "Dick." He steps forward. "That's the last cookie."
"Sure is. First come, first serve."
"Not when you already ate the whole jar by yourself."
A guilty look crosses Dick's face. And then he stuffs the cookie into his mouth.
Jason raises a single eyebrow.
"Whoops?"
And Jason is pushing up his sleeves and advancing on him. "You're gonna regret that." He gives his fingers a little wiggle for emphasis.
"Don't you even think about it." Dick's backing away, arms raised.
A grin finds its way onto Jason's face. "Ohh, you'd better watch it dickwing."
And the chase is on, Dick darting around the corridors, Jason in quick pursuit.
They pass Alfred, dusting the corner of a large bookshelf, who says: "No running in the halls."
They don't falter.
Dick's making a beeline for the batcave, and Jason is picking up pace. He tackles him down the stairs, and they land in an awkward pile in the ground.
Jason's fingers bury themselves in Dick's sides and he shrieks. "Get ahahaoff of mehehe you maniahac!" He kicks his legs, like he's still trying to run away.
"Should've kept your hands off the cookies, Dick." One of Jason's hands has wiggled its way to Dick's belly, and he lets out startled squeak.
"Weehehehell YOU shohuhuhuld learn tohohoho share!" He says between his giggles.
"Share? Share?" One of the hands jumps into Dick's armpit and he let's out a 'nohohoho' of protest. "You finished them, Dick. You must've eaten like twenty cookies."
"IDIHEEHEDN'T," He bangs his fist against the ground in protest. "IhahahadlikeTWO!"
"Sure," And fingers are wiggling against his neck. Dick scrunches it, to no avail. "Two too many."
Dick yelps out a laugh at the sentence, and then at the way both of Jason's hands are back to kneading at his sides. "C'hohohomohohon!"
Dick's hand latches onto Jason's ankle, and he gives it a sharp yank, knocking him over. As soon as he's free, he scribbles his fingers on Jason's calve.
Jason shouts and tries to kick Dick in the face. Dick ducks it, snickering. "That all you got?"
"Gehehet off of me Dihihihick!" And Jason flips himself over, wiggling his fingers against Dick's neck, who's still clinging to Jason's calve.
"Lehehet gohoho!" Dick squeaks, trying to squirm away but also not let go at the same time.
Jason's face scrunches as he fights back laughter. "Y-hehe-you first!"
"What are you two doing?"
They both glance up to see that Tim was in the entrance of the hall, apparently trying to get past them.
"Dihihick ate ahahahall thehehehe cookies!" Jason tries to kick his leg out of Dick's grip.
"Nohoho I didn't!"
Tim looks between them, before swiftly hiding something behind his back, taking a smooth step backwards. "Can't believe he'd do that, well! I have to go, good luck settling this."
Dick and Jason exchange a look. "What's behind your back, Tim?"
Tim looks between the two of them, makes a split second decision, sticking the thing behind his back into his mouth and bolting.
Quickly, Dick and Jason shove each other off to chase after Tim, shouting after him.
As they pass Alfred, who is still dusting, he says: "No running in the hallways."
____________________________________
Hope you like it!
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melody-han-wayne · 5 months ago
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who taught Damian how to tickle 😭😭
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project-zorthania · 1 year ago
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What's your ranking of all the robins from favorite to least favorite?
waattt, I love all of them equally!! How could I possibly rank my bubus from favourite to least favourite??? I definitely like to water and feed them all an equal amount *COUGH*ᶦᵗ'ˢᵈᶦᶜᵏ*COUGH* They're all such special and beautiful birbs!
Only Alfred Pennyworth type answers here today hahaha.
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zweetpea · 2 months ago
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Yandere batfam one shot/imagine thing
I'll probably make a part 2
You met Bruce while you were working as a waitress for a gala. It was a second job to pay rent. Maybe he brought Selina or some other girl or maybe he came alone.
Either way you two end up in a room together and end up sleeping together. Just as you’re pulling on your clothes he asks to see you again. He even offers you a check (let’s say it’s for 500k). You take the money promising to see him again but you don’t for about a year.
After a year of him searching every corner of Gotham he finally finds you. And surprise surprise you have a three month old baby girl.
He goes up to you and begs you to let him be in the baby’s life. After a few weeks of bribes (and him secretly stalking you) you finally make a deal with him. If he works from home he can take care of the baby during the day.
So you brought your baby to the Wayne Manor. You expected maybe a servant or maybe Bruce to answer the door. You were not expecting a young man to open the door. He had short shaggy black hair with an undercut and a K-pop hair style. He stared at you with his piercing blue eyes-
“Tim drake! That’s who you are! I used to love watching your let’s plays! I love your sense of humor!” Tim was surprised. Being the middle child (especially the middle boy) he often feels left behind by his siblings, so having someone notice his accomplishments for once felt nice.
“Drake. What are you looking-” a short boy came up behind the gamer. He had a darker complexion and slicked back black hair with piercing green eyes. You smiled at him and he straight up slammed the door in your and your baby’s face. Your eyes grew wide and your face fell into a scowl.
You heard shuffling from behind the door and when if opened you saw Tim holding the kid by the scruff of his collar as one would do with a misbehaving animal. “Sorry about that Miss.” Tim smiled at you. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“I’m going to be late for work. Here give her to Bruce. Her name is Echo.” You give the baby to Tim. “Oh there you go. Support her head now.” You threw the bag in the small rude kids face. “Everything she needs is in there. I’ve left instructions inside for how to take care of her. If she doesn’t eat that much try tickling her tummy. I’ve labeled the extra bottles of her food so if she’s really hungry give her some and if it’s not enough call me I’ll get here as soon as I can. I don’t want her drinking any of that store bought crap. Understand?”
“Yes ma’am.” Tim smiled.
“Good.” You ruffled his hair. Then you turned to the younger boy. “Be good to my baby ya hear? Or else I’ll milk papa Bruce for every penny I can.” You ruffled his hair too. You then kissed your baby and went back to your car.
Tim shut the door and immediately Echo started crying. Bruce and Alfred came running at the noise.
“No… I missed her.” Bruce said. He looked at his three youngest kids. “Hey sweetheart.” Bruce tried to grab Echo. But Tim held her close. Everyone looked at him surprised.
“Father why did that rude lady drop off a baby.” Damian scowled.
“She’s not rude. She’s your future Step Mother.” Bruce smiled at the thought of your and his wedding. “Now Tim, give my baby here. She’s crying.”
“No.”
“No? What do you mean no?” Bruce seemed flabbergasted.
“She trusted me to hold her child. This is my baby sister.”
“Drake! Give father the baby. She’s being loud.” Damian covered his ears. Echo looked over at him and made a grabby hand gesture at him.
“It looks like she wants Master Damian’s attention.” Alfred pointed out.
“but-” Tim was cut off as Damian took the baby.
Echo’s cries grew quiet as her youngest older sibling held her. While Tim’s obsession with You and Echo became apparent almost immediately, giving him the praise his own family and the Media refused to, Damian’s was slow. It started with someone (echo) actually liking him. After all he went from being showered in attention under Talia’s thumb to being practically ignored at Wayne Manor.
Dick was by far the kindest to Damian, being a mentor to the young boy. But he could still bite back at Damian’s snark. Barbara and Stephanie took none of his crap, to the point where they barely spoke to him. Cass and Duke held no qualms about fighting with a kid. Jason was like a cool big brother and while he wasn’t at the manor often he always made most of his time there focused on the kid. Tim and Damian had a very strained relationship. And while Bruce loves Damian there’s always a bit of strain, and guilt on Bruce’s part. If he’d stayed with Talia maybe Damian wouldn’t have to grow up in a cesspool of Violence and mental agony.
“Back to your old ways of not wearing protection father?” Damian smirked.
“Damian… give me my Daughter.” Bruce said gently but firmly.
“Its nice to know you fought for her more than you fought for me. Though to be fair to you Ummi did shove us together.” He snarked as he held the baby who’d fallen asleep. Bruce went to grab her but Damian stepped back. “Ah ta ta. You wouldn’t want to disturb her right?” Damian smirked.
Over the next few hours Damian was mainly the one taking care of Echo if only to stop her from crying.
And at the end of the day when you finally got off work to pick up your sweet baby you were surprised to see Bruce, Damian, and Tim all playing with her in the living room. (What was more surprising was that her attention was mainly focused on the brat from this morning Damian.) She cooed as she saw you and you rushed to pick her up and gather her things into her bag.
Damian glared at you as you took Echo from his borderline iron clad grip. Who were you to take his sister, his blood sister mind you, away form him? (Her mother but we're not going to get into that right now.)
"Sweetness how about you just slow down. I'll have Alfred prepare you a drink. Which kind of tea do you like more Earl Gray or Jasmine." Bruce smiled and twiddled a piece of your hair in his hand.
You smacked his hand away. "No thank you. My baby and I need to get home." You said and quickly hurried out of there.
"Father you can't let her leave!" Damian said.
"Yeah! Don't you want that nice lady to be your wife?" Tim agreed.
"I was talking about Echo." Damian deadpanned.
Bruce ruffled both their heads. "Patience boys. Have a little faith in your old man." He smiled as you walked away. Before the month was out he'd have you and echo safely tucked away in his arms in the deepest recesses of Wayne Manor.
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