#dick grayson is the perfect man

[sidewalk-cracks]

literally please give Battison a Dick Grayson in the Batman Part II.

The first movie was about Bruce's journey from not wanting to be Bruce Wayne, to realizing that he does in fact need to be Bruce Wayne, and that Bruce Wayne can be a force used for good just like Batman. Logically then, the second movie should explore the next immediate question on the table: okay, he needs to be Bruce Wayne. So who is Bruce Wayne? What kind of man is Bruce Wayne going to be? Bruce still feels defined by his trauma of his parent's death. Bruce Wayne still feels defined by his parents' shadows, by his father's legacy. He still feels defined by his grief. How does he make Bruce Wayne be something different?

Dick Grayson would serve as the PERFECT device for Bruce to discover who he can be. Because Dick Grayson is literally just a young Bruce, and Bruce sees that instantly (it's why he takes him in in the first place). So throughout the movie, as Bruce tries to help Dick process his grief, he's inadvertently processing his OWN grief. Dick Grayson unknowingly helps Bruce process his own trauma, and through their developing relationship shows him that Bruce Wayne can be more than a recluse, a failure, a man drowning in his own head- he can be a protector, a friend, a parent.

When Dick points a gun at Tony Zucco's head, Bruce talks him down, and all the words that he gives him are words he had wanted when he was a kid and his grief was fresh. Even though they're gone, you're not alone. I understand.

BATTISON NEEDS DICK GRAYSON TO BE ABLE TO TAKE THE NEXT STEP OF HIS CHARACTER GROWTH.

[normal-nightmare]

God. God I'm completely fucking insane about Dick and Jason

Their dynamic is everything to me. They have such a complicated relationship and history. They've been enemies and friends and almost-brothers. The what-ifs and should-have-beens and might-haves linger in between them so heavily. The guilt and grief sticks to their relationship and might never go away. They keep hurting each other but they love each other so much and they want to keep trying, to understand each other

Because that's what love is!! Relationships aren't perfect but that doesn't matter! They keep trying and they WANT to keep trying! Jason sees Dick for who he is and still thinks he's the most amazing thing he's ever seen. Dick has seen Jason at his absolute worst and still wants him around. They've both wanted the other dead and they've fought and gotten each other bloody and they still come back and offer a hand up.

They SEE each other- and that's terrifying. And they love each other so so deeply. The commitment, the sense of duty and obligation, it's all there. They don't HAVE to keep caring or trying- but they do regardless and God isn't that what love is? Trying?

Just. God they're so devoted to each other even when they've been hurt, even when they don't quite know how to show it or get the other to understand. But they try.

God, they try.

[littlefankingdom]

Originally, Bruce and Dick slept in the same bed.

I like to twist this around: Bruce, being a young parent, was VERY protective and worried about his boy who wants to go fight criminals with him, and it translated into him refusing to let Dick leave his side after difficult nights. Dick is hurt? He is sleeping in Bruce's bed. Dick isn't hurt but it was a close call? He is sleeping in Bruce's bed. Bruce just got scared but Dick was fine? He is sleeping in Bruce's bed. Dick is scared? He is sleeping in Bruce's bed. Of course, this led to Dick also refusing to leave Bruce's side when Bruce gets hurt or could have been hurt, so he also sleeps in Bruce's bed on these nights. And, as he grew up in a circus, always moving around, he is used to sleeping in his parents' arms or very close by, so it's normal for him.

So, Dick is often sleeping in Bruce's bed, cuddled up to Bruce. And as he grows up, he sleeps less and less in Bruce's arms, and he supports less and less Bruce's suffocating anxiety. Finally, he stops completely.

Some events make him wants to crawl back in his dad's bed (his multiple SA, the destruction of Bludhaven, the multiple times he thought Bruce died, etc...), but he never dares to. He is an adult now, and he fears Bruce would have a problem with it. Bruce is also not that welcoming toward physical affection since Jason's death (something Cass fixes, but that's another story). So, Dick doesn’t, even when he craves to.

Until Bruce is send back in time and believed dead. When he comes back, Dick just cannot stop himself, he needs to hold his dad, and he is so afraid Bruce will dissappear if he isn't touching him. He is holding him all evening long, and when it's time for bed, Bruce wordlessly goes to sleep holding Dick with one arm, the other around Tim. (Damian isn't close enough to Bruce yet to dare come sleep with them, Cass is in Hong-Kong, but she is jumping on a plane and will join the sleep-cuddle pile, Jason isn't back in the batfam yet but the possibility of losing Bruce scared him so bad, he is going to start to make efforts to not be on bad terms with them)

[tisajest]

Is Roy currently single? I need DC to do us all a solid and have Babs dump Dick and then have Roy scoop him up

[lafoget]

the main difference between dick and tim is that dick believes in bruce as the man who took him in and passed on his moral beliefs and values to him, while tim believes in batman as a concept and idea

[ev-arrested]

Nightwing, at his breaking point: I can feel my bones and it’s fucking nauseating.

Raven:

Beast Boy:

Starfire:

Cyborg:

Nightwing: woah! 🙂 That was kind of a lot! 😄 Sorry guys. Anyway, on our next mission, we’re going to skin Slade alive—

[hood-ex]

If I had a nickel for every-time we get really cute snap shots of the titans interacting with their guardians/mentors/sisters/fathers/uncles expect for Bruce and dick I’d have two nickels

Which isn’t a lot but it’s weird it’s happened twice

No hate, I think it’s actually kind of interesting I think it’s just funny that both tt:year one (from a few years back) and now worlds finest did it like that

Bruce in TTYO: Robin, you're not reaching my standards 😠.

Bruce in WFTT: Dick, your friends aren't up to my standards 😠.

[frogaroundandfindout]

Roy Harper invites dick and Grant on a trip to Arizona with him and Lian. Grant rejects but Roy refuses to leave him alone (titans #17)

[youngjusticerulez]

HOW IS THIS SPECIMEN

AND THIS DUDE THE SAME PERSON????

(i simp so hard-)

(first guy I actually simp for cause it's always girls)

[weirdo-from-bonesborough]

Someone on Twitter confused Jason for Dick and asked why he was going grey before Bruce and I can NOT stop thinking about it

[thatofabeavers]

the trans dick grayson brainrot is REAL and will NOT LEAVE MY MINDDDD

Like...my mans would not know he is trans. He would try so hard to girl correctly, my mans is not nearly self aware enough to crack that egg by himself. Gender is a performance and he is winning.

Until he puts on the batsuit and people think he's a man. Then he starts cracking.

[angry-nightwing]

Unfortunately I've just come to the conclusion that the Karl guy from Love Actually is the closest any real life person has come to looking like how I want a live action Dick Grayson to look

[ar-bi-trary]

so that's what he's thinking about

[littlefankingdom]

I tried to read Robin & Batman (2021) and I had to stop because I hate Bruce in this so much. Like, wtf is he saying he wants to make Dick a soldier?! He took Dick because he saw himself in him and wanted to give him a better childhood, not to make him a mini-Batman, but to make him a better man than Bruce!

Anyway, here are some panels of Bruce and Dick in their early publication's history!

Bruce's crying because his boy is crying! And they say the Dark Knight has no emotions!

Bruce is so extreme in his love for Dick. He is like "If something happens to Dick, I'm going to cry so much, I will die of dehydration. Actually, I will torture myself to death. I will find the most painful way to take my own life. He is the most important thing in my life." Like here, Dick is being like "I'm running away!" and Bruce's reaction is "I would prefer to cut my arms off than lose you." He is so full of love for this boy, he is going to explode.

[prlssprfctn]

Jason refusing to admit that Bruce and him are alike, while Bruce being oblivious to their raging similarity is the funniest case scenario ever.

Tim, waking up after a nap, and seeing a familiar big figure standing with his back to him: Hey, Jason.

Bruce, turning around, confused: Jason left an hour ago.

Tim: ...Sorry, you look like twins

Bruce, sighing: I wish. But we are not, really.

Tim: ??????

Some goon, shivering from fear: B-Batman, please, spare me!

Red Hood, leaving the shadow, even madder than before: Do I look like fucking Batman to you, man?

Goon: I-I mean, when you are standing in the darkness with your arms on your chest, and say "Now, talk"—

Red Hood, irritated: One word, and I am putting a bullet in your empty head.

Goon: Yesss, sir.

Damian, staring as everyone in the house first put cereal in the bowl, and then add milk, while Jason and Bruce demonstratively (and obliviously) do it in the opposite order in the perfect synchronisation: Why do they—

Alfred, shaking his head: Please, don't point it out, Master Damian. Either way, they will start arguing, and Master Jason will instantly teach himself to do it in the opposite way.

Damian, rolling his eyes: Whatever.

Dick: So, do you all know that Bruce and Jason refuse to admit that they are alike?

Everyone: (nod)

Dick, smirking: I fucked up Bruce's files and Jason's guns in the span of a minute...

Everyone: Why would you do that—

Bruce and Jason, from the opposite sides of manor, in the same furious voice: RICHARD JOHN GRAYSON

Dick: ...Just to demonstrate to you THIS. Now, if you don't mind, I'll go get back to Blüdhaven.

[ahqkas]

♯ ATTRACTIVE THINGS THEY DO . . . without realizing

BRUCE WAYNE

rolling his sleeves

bruce wayne sat at his desk, eyes scanning the papers in front of him with a focus that bordered on obsessive. his brow furrowed slightly as he sifted through the reports, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him. with a sigh, he leaned back in the chair, his broad shoulders rolling as he stretched, the fabric of his shirt straining just enough to hint at the muscle beneath.

he reached down to his cuffs, fingers moving with practiced ease as he undid the buttons. the action was simple, but there was an undeniable smoothness to it. slowly, he pushed the sleeves up, the fabric tugging against the defined muscles of his forearms as they flexed with the motion. the shirt rode up slightly, revealing the veins beneath.

once the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, he flexed his fingers briefly, feeling the weight of the day settle into his body. there was no rush, no hurry. bruce wayne wasn’t just a man who wore suits—he was a man who controlled the world around him.

looking down and leaning in to hear you better

he stood tall, his imposing presence filling the space as he leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. the difference in height between you made the moment feel all the more intimate, as though the world around you had faded into the background. his broad shoulders, strong and steady, seemed to fill the room with the weight of his silent power. every inch of him radiated control, and yet, there was something almost magnetic about the way he was focused on you now, narrowing the gap between you.

he tilted his head just a little, his gaze softening yet still intense, before his lips parted slightly. with a quiet, almost imperceptible shift in his posture, he leaned closer, his height forcing you to tilt your head back just to meet his eyes.

“sorry, what were you saying?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, the words lingering in the air between you. there was no rush in his movement, no hint of impatience—just the steady presence of a man who knew the effect he had, who made every action feel deliberate, calculated.

DICK GRAYSON

stretching

dick grayson towered in the middle of your bedroom, a small stretch escaping him after a long day of training and patrol. with a soft grunt, he raised his arms high above his head, his back arching slightly as his muscles flexed in the motion. the action was simple, but the way his body moved with effortless grace caught the light in just the right way, accentuating the sleek, toned lines of his chest and abdomen.

as he reached upwards, the hem of his shirt lifted slightly, revealing the faint line of his happy trail—dark and subtle beneath the fabric. his abs tightened with the stretch, his posture perfect and confident, yet so natural.

when his arms finally lowered, he relaxed, a small, satisfied smile curling on his lips, unaware of the effect the simple stretch had on your wandering gaze.

running a hand through his hair

he leaned back against the post of your bed, his chest rising and falling with each steady breath after another long night of patrol. he was tired, but not exhausted—just enough to feel the strain of the evening settling into his muscles. his hand moved instinctively to his hair, running through it with a relaxed sigh. the motion was effortless, but there was something undeniably attractive about it. his fingers tangled in the dark strands, pushing them back, only to leave them even more tousled than before.

his hair, usually neatly styled, now fell in messy waves, a little wild and chaotic—much like dick himself. as he scratched the back of his head, his tousled look gave off a carefree vibe, as if he didn’t have a care in the world despite the weight of his responsibilities. the slight rumple only added to the charm.

his lips quirked into a soft, knowing smile as he caught the look in your eyes, momentarily lost in them—so damn predictable. he had you right where he wanted you.

JASON TODD

leaning against a doorway

jason todd stood in the doorway, his posture relaxed yet undeniably intimidating. his arms were crossed over his chest, biceps flexing slightly with the movement, a stance that spoke of quiet confidence and a hint of defiance. his shoulders were broad, his body leaning casually against the doorframe, but there was an edge to him—something hard and unyielding beneath the surface. the way his weight shifted ever so slightly to one side gave him an almost effortless air, as if the world had to adjust to him, not the other way around.

his dark eyes scanned the room, taking in everything with a sharp focus, though he didn’t seem to be in a rush to move or speak. the leather jacket he adorned hung from his frame, the subtle creases and folds of the material giving it an air of worn-in familiarity, like it had seen too much for too long. but his gaze—intense, guarded—never left your figure, as if he was watching for something just out of reach, something that only he could sense.

the way jason held himself in the doorway, arms crossed with a hint of tension in his posture, felt like a silent challenge for most, though there was nothing overtly aggressive about it. it was just the quiet power of a man who was used to being underestimated, a man who didn't need to say a word to command attention.

wearing a shirt that fits just right

he moved through the motions of his training with practiced precision, the rhythm of his strikes steady and controlled. his black shirt clung to his body, the dark fabric stretching over the defined muscles of his chest and back as he moved. the fit was snug, highlighting the sheer strength in his frame, the subtle curve of his biceps flexing with each punch and kick.

swaet began to bead on his forehead, trailing down his temple as he focused on his technique, his breathing steady despite the exertion. the shirt, stretched tight across his shoulders, rode up slightly as his arms reached high, the lines of his stomach momentarily visible as he performed another series of rapid, forceful punches. his torso flexed, muscles tightening and releasing with each movement, and the shirt seemed to accentuate the sculpted definition of his body.

as he paused, catching his breath, the shirt clung even tighter, the movement of his chest beneath it noticeable with every rise and fall of his breath. jason didn’t seem to notice—or care—how the fit of the shirt left little to the imagination. his focus was on the work, on pushing himself further, but the way the fabric outlined his form only added to the unspoken intensity of his presence. even when he wasn't speaking, his body did all the talking.