#not dickie duck either

[redr0sewrites]

NNN Hcs with the Dc Batboys

🥀A/n: exactly what is sounds like‼️ i love writing no nut november hcs sm-

🥀Character(s): Dick Grayson x reader, Jason Todd x reader, Bruce Wayne x reader,

🥀Cw: smut, teasing, switch!reader, use of the term(s) prince/ss in Bruce's pt, dirty talk

🥀divider: @chachachannah <3

🥀minors dni

Dick Grayson:

bringing up NNN to Dick definitely raises a brow- at first he's a little confused, you don't want to have sex for an entire month? who would ever want that?

once you explain it though, i think he'd be really into it. he's definitely a little pouty that he can't even masturbate, and would probably complain if you were abstaining from sex without telling him why. once you convince him to join you though, he starts taking it very seriously

Dick has a bit of a competitive streak, so i definitely think he's in it to "beat you". he's teasing you endlessly, trying to get you to give in before the month ends (and theres definitely a high chance of him outlasting you)

actually suuuuuch an unfair tease, like genuinely he's soo annoying throughout the month. you walk by him wearing shorts? he's kneading your ass and giving it an appreciative slap. you don't have a shirt on for any reason whatsoever? he's coming up behind you and groping your chest, whether you have boobs or not, and whispering filthy things in your ear.

he's also big on teasing you in your sleep- you can't tell me Dick wouldn't have the biggest somnophilia kink ever so he's absolutely trying to get you worked up while your asleep, in hopes of you waking up and giving in

i honestly see two outcomes: he either makes it to the end of the month, or he gives up about 3/4 through. i feel like Dick has a pretty high libido, but i also think he has really good self control and can resist temptation so there's definitely some internal conflict on his end.

it gets to a point where, at the end of the month, because his libido is so high and he's been untouched for so long, he's like tweaking out over every touch and is becoming veeerrryyy needy and sensitive. this is probably the time period where he's most likely to give in as he's just soooo sensitive and can't even touch himself to get off! you have a much higher chance of getting Dick to give in once he reaches this threshold, and if you play your cards right he'll be squirming.

if he does make it through the month, expect to be woken up at 12:01 on the first of december with Dick humping your thigh and whining in your ear. he's NOT in control right now, he's way too needy and sensitive, and he's definitely okay with letting you use him to get off- he needs to cum just as bad as you do

gives you the most AMAZING orgasms after waiting a month, he's mounting you like an incubus and rutting into you like his life depends on it until your both whimpering and overstimulated ♥️

he's probably gonna be a little mean too, considering you made him wait soooo long <\\3

"hnhah- ffuck." Dick's soft breath tickles your ear as he nips at the lobe, his hips rocking heavily against yours. "c'mon, baby, you can give me another, please.." his cock twitches against your tummy, tip sticky and wet from previous orgasms.

"Dickie, i just came-" you whine, yet your body betrays you as your hips roll up to meet his. he chuckles breathlessly against the soft column of your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses into your sweat-soaked skin. "please, baby? jus' one more, f'me?" his tone is teasing, but you can tell he's desperate as you feel his cockhead twitch again. with a soft giggle, you nod, and Dick wastes no time in aligning himself with your hole. "you ready, hun?"

"mhm," you hum, and he slides in. your hole is already wet from previous orgasms, it had felt too good for Dick to not cum inside, and that only aided his sloppy thrusts as he rutted against you. your eyes flutter closed as the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, and Dick ducks back down to whisper in your ear as your orgasm draws closer. "so pretty, s'good for me, made me wait so long for this... ffucck- y'gonna cum for me, honey? gonna take it all?"

Jason Todd:

Jason is honestly a wild card, i think it could go a multitude of ways honestly depending on how you feel

when you suggest the idea to him, i either see him being a tiny bit petty and lowkey deciding to fuck you every day of november OR take it as a challenge and being determined to make it through the month with no screw ups.

if it ends up being the latter, than i feel as though Jason has a higher chance of succeeding then losing. i don't think his sex drive is super high, and he's also pretty stubborn, HOWEVER, you are his weak point, and if you end up teasing him or begging him, i can picture him snapping and fucking you

either way, he's at least making it through half the month if not longer.

the only way you'll get him to give in is if your REALLY desperate, because he could never see you needy- so teasing him or pleading with him to fuck you is probably how you can get him to break

i also see him teasing you, but only subtly. he'll wear those low rise sweatpants he knows you like around the house, he's shirtless more often than not, and somehow his hands always seem to find place on your thighs... what lovely coincidences!

Jason struggles more with not fucking you than not being able to masturbate. i honestly don't think he does so very often, so it wouldn't be much of an issue, but not being able to fuck you? not even being able to give you head? drives him insane.

all in all, Jason cares more about your satisfaction than his own. could probably go the whole month without your interference, but is probably pent up by the end of the month

speaking of pent up, he's going to be insane at the end of the month because you made him wait. probably going to be more dominant than usual, BUT he's still really gentle and sweet because he knows your sensitive,,, so its a win!

the first time he cums after no nut november he swears he sees stars, probably praises you to the moon and back over how perfect you are

i think he'd wait until the next day to ravish you, he'd let you both get your sleep, but encourages you both to take the day off and spend the day in bed catching up on lost time. december first is going to be a LOVELY day for you,,,,

"s'that feel good, baby?"

"ffuck- yes Jay, fucking me so good-" you whine into the pillows, drool soaking the fabric as Jason pounds into you from behind. strong arms frame your form as he fucks you, his dick just perfectly touching your g spot/prostate with each thrust.

"aren't you- hnghh- glad you took the day off? relaxed a bit?" Jason huffed, his breath tickling your ear as he tightened his one handed grip on your ass. "y'should let me take care of you more often, especially after waiting so long..." he coos, and you let out a strangled moan as the knot in your stomach begins to tighten faster and faster.

"y'gonna cum for me, pretty?"

"y-es, please, Jay-"

"shh, s'ok, me too, we'll cum together, okay honey?" he soothes, rocking against you as the bed frame quakes.

"gonna fill you up so nice," he murmurs under his breath, white curls plastered to his sweat-slick forehead. "gonna make you cum for every day i couldnt..."

Bruce Wayne:

Bruce is making it through the month, no questions asked. it does not matter how deeply and truly he loves you, this man is IN IT TO WIN IT. he is absolutely making it through the month and will not budge i fear

theres a few nights where he's pent up and irritated after batman-ing and considers giving in, but he never does

when you first suggested NNN to him, he's probably a bit lukewarm to the idea, but whatever makes you happy 🤷 ngl he probably thought you were mad at him and this was a punishment or something at first😭

he honestly didn't think you'd end up actually going through with it, and if you end up giving in at some point in the month he'll definitely feign disappointment

"such a shame, i thought you were challenging me to this...game."

he's absolutely evil when it comes to teasing. he'll come up behind you and press gentle kisses on your neck, his large hands holding a firm grip on your waist, only to pull away with a practiced, professional smile as you begin to curl into his touch <\\3 he also plays up the Brucie Wayne persona, and is a lot more subtly seductive in an attempt to get you to break

keeping a firm hand on your lower back in public, giving you gifts (specifically lingerie, with a note attached that states, "for the end of the month"), and overall being a bit more possessive

when the month is over??? PREPARE. it's late, almost 2AM on december first, and the second he returns from patrolling he's finding you. doesn't even take the batsuit off, hell, he probably fucks you right there in the batcave, bent over the batcomputer. he's a little harsher than usual, and definitely more needy. he also tells you to take the day off, so he can.. spoil you for the entire day <3

let me just say, after so long of abstaining, he FUCKS, and he fucks you hard. you swear your seeing stars with each thrust, and he's genuinely insatiable. probably wants to breed you too... doesn't matter if you can get pregnant or not, he's fucking you full of his cum

the desk beneath you rattles with each thrust, and your thighs tremble as large, gloved hands find purchase on your soft skin. the rough, cold temperature of the leather provides delicious contrast to your lust-warmed skin, and you let out a wanton moan as Bruce thrusts heavy and deep inside.

"you like that, doll? like making me wait?" he practically growls in your ear, and you let out a stuttering moan.

"n-no, please, s'too much-"

"aw, poor thing. can't even take my cock... guess it has been a month after all, you'll need some time to get used to it i suppose." you roll your eyes at his cockiness, but just as you go to spit back a retort, he rolls his hips against your again. you shudder, clenching around him as his pace speeds up.

"so good f'me," he coos, almost cruel in his ministrations as he rubs harsh circles into the soft flesh of your thighs. Bruce's thrusts increase in pace, his tip rearranging your guts as the coil in your stomach begins to tighten.

"o-oh! 'm gonna-"

"fuuck, i know, prince/ss. cum for me," he whispers, moving one hand to the small of your back, pushing you down more firmly against the desk. "you can take it."

[ghost-bxrd]

“Dickie,” Jason whines, and Dick can’t help the instinctive little chirp he makes in response, “Tim is bullying me. Save me.”

Dick grins, hopping down from his perch, “You are bad, Jay. Give.”

He holds out his hand expectantly and Jason huffs but hands over the controller without much fanfare, scooting to the side so Dick can fit himself between his owlet and the little hatchling.

Jason wastes no time pressing himself up against Dick, head dropping on his shoulder with a little sigh.

The hatchling remains where he is, pointedly not looking at either of them, but Dick can see the way his body is angled toward them subconsciously. Dick clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and Jason blinks up at him for a second before a grin splits his face.

“What- hey!” Tim squawks, wriggling like a fish as Jason ducks under Dick’s arms and seizes the hatchling around the waist, dragging the boy half on top of them both before settling against the backrest with a smug expression on his face.

“Sorry, Baby Bird. We need cuddles.”

The hatchling huffs, but his face reads warm-comfortable-content as he slumps into Jason’s hold and grumbles about birds and stupid nicknames.

— Owl Song Pt XI sneak peek

[ducktoonsfanart]

Scrooge McDuck's Easter Party - April Fool's Day and Autism Day - Scrooge McDuck's Duck Friends, Family and Rivals - Duck comics and Duckverse

Once again, I wish everyone a belated Happy Easter as well as a Happy April Fool's Day and a Happy Autism Day and Month! I know I didn't make it in time to do it and post it, because I had other things to do, but I certainly did a drawing related to the previous one (Donald's nephews' birthday), only with grown-up characters from Duck comics. Yes, since Easter almost fell on April Fool's Day, Donald and his cousin Fethry burst into Scrooge's party and douse him with a bucket of water, which of course Scrooge doesn't like. And Fethry Duck is definitely autistic (like me lol) who likes to try all kinds of things. And yes, a cake, cookies, and Easter eggs (mostly chocolate eggs) were prepared for the party. I didn't manage to draw all the characters that I love and that I know from Donald Duck comics (either from American or from European, especially Italian comics) because not all characters would fit in one drawing, and I apologize for that. Here are Donald Duck, Daisy Duck, Scrooge McDuck, Flintheart Glomgold, John D. Rockerduck, Jeeves (Lusky), Miss Emily Quackfaster (Scrooge's secretary), Albert Quackmore Battista (Scrooge's butler), Gyro Gearloose, Brigitta MacBridge, Goldie O' Gilt (Glittering Goldie), Gideon McDuck (Scrooge's brother), Dickie Duck, Gladstone Gander, Ludwig von Drake and Abner Whitewater Duck.

I hope you like this drawing and this idea, and once again I wish everyone a Happy Easter, a Happy April Fool's Day, a Happy Autism Day and Autism Month, and a Happy Tax Day on April 15th! Feel free to like and reblog this, but please don't use these same ideas without mentioning me and without my permission. Thank you!

Also happy 75th anniversary of Topolino comics which are published in Italy and which are some of the best Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck comics ever!

[yeyeducks]

hi! sorry If I am bothering you. I was just curious if you had any disney ducks ships?

Of course! But honestly not much outside of the canon. This is mainly due to the fact 99% of the characters are related. 🤯

Anyway my all time fav gotta be Daisy and Donald, BUT not really in the way they’re portrayed in the majority comics.

Aka, the never ending Donald has to proof himself to her. With as his opponent either Gladstone or his chronic anger issues and bad luck. I do however really like the stories where they’re actually in a more healthy relationship, and not a bad one for the sake of the plot. And when Daisy actually resents Gladstone for once. And obviously not every relationship is perfect, but ykwim.

Sorry I got too lazy to analyze any other ships in depth but here’s a quick list 💀

Scrooge and Goldie, although only in the Klondike days. I can’t really see them in a romantic way now, more in an old people that have a deep mutual understanding of eachother? Does that make sense? Maybe I just can’t picture old people in love.

Gyro and Dickie, although again only in certain comics. Obviously Ducks on the Road, but it really depends on how the writer depicts Gyro. Would I ship chronically tired Barks gyro w her? Not really. But whatever they have done to him in Italy probably yes.

Although I have to say I have no idea how old that guy is if you don’t count Ducks On The Road. He could be 25 but also 40 depending on the writer. 🫠

For the rest I don’t actively participate in shippings. There’s some ships that I like, like Donald and Gyro but there’s also some that I despise. (Brigitta🫠) Personally I prefer to stick to the canon anyway since I’m just a massive nerd when it comes to Duck lore.

[neopuff]

tumblr says i was just now tagged in a post from 2017. so yeah ill do it. thanks @loun3e

Rules: answer the 20 questions and tag 20 amazing followers you would like to get to know better.

Name: caroline

Nickname: carro

Zodiac sign: n/a

Height: 5′2″

Orientation: girls

Ethnicity: i am hwhwhite

Favourite fruit: i don’t really like fruit on its own but i love me a strawberry/banana smoothie

Favourite season: winter

Favourite book series: i have not read a whole series since asoue

Favourite flower: snapdragons! theyre cool

Favourite scent: cherry or strawberry wax cube scent

Favourite colour: green

Favourite animals: frogs, bats, baby pigs, portuguese men of war

Coffee/tea/cocoa: love me some water

Average sleep hours: 5 i think

Cat or dog person: realistically, neither. i like to pet them but i would never own either

Favourite fictional characters: there are quite a lot. riza hawkeye, jessie team rocket, goldie o’gilt, dickie duck, rebecca holiday, abigail lincoln, valerie gray, mmmmmmmm. wuya. uhhhhhhhh idk you guys know what i like

Number of blankets: ideally 2-3

Dream trip: cairo, reykjavik again, hong kong

Blog created: january 2009

Number of followers: 9192

[backgrounddisneycharacters]

12th July 2020

April Duck

April Duck is one of Daisy Duck’s nieces. She is often assigned the colour pink. She is sarcastic and witty and just a bit lazy. Unlike her sisters, April is left handed. Along with her sisters, she often appears in Donald Duck comics, particularly in Italy and in the Netherlands, but rarely has the starring role.

April’s first appearance in animation was in the House of Mouse episode Ladies Night, where she and her sisters May and June filled in for Huey, Dewey and Louie as the house band for the House of Mouse, however this was a non-speaking role. April and her sisters May and June were main characters in the show The Legend of the Three Caballeros, which can be found on Disney+. They are are teenagers who help Donald, Panchito and José with their quests as The Three Caballeros by looking up and providing them with information. This is April’s first speaking role. However, in this show April wears yellow instead of her usually assigned pink.

In DuckTales, Webby’s name in the Netherlands was Lizzy, which is April’s name in the Netherlands. They share the name because they look alike. In Germany, April is called Dicky, but is not to be confused with Scrooge McDuck’s ‘granddaughter’ Dickie Duck. While in Italy, April is known as Emy.

[riotarttherite]

I made this on a rampage for an italian Disney facebook group but TBH I AM PRETTY PROUD OF THIS....drawing ducks is hard

It’s a Maison Ikkoku crossover btw nobody felt the need for this crossover yet here we are

[lettheladylead]

MAMMA MIA!!!

but, y’know, with ducks! this is my Mamma Mia! au for Goldie and her granddaughter: Dickie Duck (why is her last name duck)! and it features Dickie’s girlfriends from that Brazilian comic series that i cant find anything about with new designs lol idk if i’ll ever do anything with this but it’s been in my head so here it is

[ayamari-no-goshi]

To Join the Whispers (11)

AO3

Fandoms: Danny Phantom (DP) / DC universe

Summary:  THIS  IS A CROSSOVER. A contact for the Batfamily passed along a rumor that the League of  Assassins were investigating a small city called Amity Park.The old man and Tim managed to find evidence of unusual  paranormal activity in the town. While they weren’t entirely certain it  wasn’t just infested with metas, the locals believed the entities that haunted, for lack of a  better word, the town were actual ghosts. If there was one thing Ra’s al Ghul didn’t need to get his grubby hands on, it was ghosts.That’s probably why Jason was doing this. He had the unfortunate luck to experience both death and resurrection in a way he’d never recommend to anyone else.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, and questionable mental health

Parings: none

Notes: originally uploaded to AO3. Cross-posted to tumblr. Jason Todd-centric

Jason had a love-hate relationship with silence. Sometimes it was great when he needed to be away from annoying people or when a task needed extra attention. But at the same time, sometimes it allowed his mind to wander along dark paths that he didn’t need to consider.

In this case, he needed some sort of noise, but he wasn’t going to get it. Danny was still unresponsive, and Cass was naturally silent, a side effect of not being raised to talk growing up. In a situation like this, he’d usually make a few comments here or there, but he didn’t currently trust himself to speak. He didn’t need to work himself back into a rage venting about Vlad while he was keeping an eye on someone. So, he was just going to grit his teeth and pray he’d be able to meet up with the rest of them soon. Their banter would be a welcome distraction.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Cass to lead him to an old exit that appeared to originally have been used as a servant entrance. Must have been the same one she and Duke used to enter in their initial reconnaissance.

He hadn’t realized the building was old enough to have one. Either Vlad or the person before him must have done a heck of a lot of remodeling. Either way, it worked out for them.

When they exited the building, Jason noted they were at the tail end of what appeared to be an ornate garden. Good. It gave them plenty of cover on the off chance someone decided they wanted to check behind the building. While he wasn’t entirely sure how incompetent the G.I.W. were, their weaponry was dangerous to Danny, and that by itself was grounds for avoiding them. Hopefully, Sam’s parents would be able to keep them at bay again like they did earlier that day.

As they approached the brick wall along the property line, he barely had time to duck down to avoid a green blast. The Waters churned uneasily as he realized it wasn’t responding the same as when a ghost or a halfa was nearby. With a jolt, he realized the blast had to have come from ecto-weaponry.

“Did I get him?” an excited voice boomed from the opposite side of the garden. Jason recognized that voice: it was Danny’s father.

“I don’t think so, Sweetie. We didn’t hear any screams,” his mother responded.

When did Danny’s parents even get here? They didn’t have any reports that the Fentons were on the premises. Or, at least he didn’t think they did. He wasn’t entirely certain what Dickie-bird reported to the old man. But, judging by the gesture from Cass, he hadn’t mentioned the older Fentons.

But this presented a new problem. Those two probably had some sort of detection device which meant they could easily pinpoint Danny’s location. Amity wasn’t anything like Gotham. The buildings weren’t all that tall, and, especially in the wealthier area, the buildings had quite the distance between them. It made grappling nearly impossible. That meant stealth was probably their best bet… unless he decided to steal a vehicle.

Actually, that might not be a bad idea. Bruce would probably bitch at him for it, but if he didn’t manage to damage it… He should stop that line of thought. With his luck, that vehicle would be destroyed.

“What’s wrong, Spook?” Jack shot his weapon again, but this one missed by a few yards. “Too scared to move? I don’t blame you! You’re up against the Fentons!”

“Jack, is it just me or does it seem like there’s a second signature next to Phantom’s?”

“Huh? There is! That means we’ll get two for the price of one!”

Jason swore. With everything else that happened, he forgot the Fenton equipment could detect him too. Great. It’d be easier if Cass wasn’t wearing her Deflector. He could have just handed Danny over to her and distracted the pair until she got the kid to safety, but that wasn’t possible in this instance.

Cass caught his attention with a small gesture. She was going to distract them so he could take Danny to safety. He didn’t like it. That should be his job, but Danny’s safety was more important in this instance. But, the Fentons didn’t seem interested in attacking humans so it was unlikely Cass would get hurt. So, with a hesitant nod, he agreed.

When Cass gave the signal, he began running as fast as he could to wall. While he did that, he could hear the telltale sound of a smoke bomb followed by some coughing. Simple and effective. And judging by the grunts, she also disarmed them.

As he reached the top of the wall, something grazed upper arm. Searing pain blossomed through his body. Shit. At least one of the Fentons had backup weaponry. Gritting his teeth, he did his best to ignore it as he jumped down and continued moving.

“Could really use some directions, Oracle.” Glancing around, he decided it would probably be safer to stay off the road for now.

Static momentarily filled his earpiece. “…Can you hear…? …interference…” That was putting it lightly. It was as bad as the old TVs his school would use. Well, his old school before Bruce adopted him.

“Barely. Too much static.”

“…sent Nightwing… he… Orphan… you.”

“I’m hoping that means you’re giving them my coordinates.” More static answered him, but his phone dinged. Nice, Babs sent him the blueprints for Amity’s sewer system. Hopefully, this place didn’t have any villains in them like Gotham. He really didn’t need to run into this place’s version of Killer Croc.

…

Getting to the sewers proved to be tricker than he anticipated. The closest manhole cover was several blocks away, and, sometime between getting those coordinates and beginning to move, the Fentons moved to their probably not street legal tank. He’d seen and done some reckless driving over the years. But, Jack Fenton’s driving was something else.

The man didn’t seem to care if the vehicle was on or off the road. Fences? He apparently didn’t see them. The only things he actively avoided were the houses and trees, and even then, some of the trees were cut down with some sort of large spinning blade on a robotic arm. Seriously. How the military not contract them yet? Not even the Batmobile had something like that.

Dodging around another house, he took a moment to check his phone again. It was on the fritz too. The screen oddly pixilated on and off, but luckily, he could still read it. The sewer entrance was only two houses away.

As he made a break for it, he caught sight of a green flash. Above him, some sort of dome was beginning to form. It looked similar enough to what Vlad used to trap him in the mansion and the energy shield Danny made during the fight for his liking. If it was what he suspected it was, it’d trap him and Danny.

Caution be damned. He needed to move.

It looked like he was going to make it, but, of course, his luck couldn’t hold out. He was forced to change trajectory as several blasts came his way. Even without them hitting, it still cost him the precious few seconds he had to clear the growing dome. Cussing, he turned to see Danny’s parents running towards him with weapons drawn.

“Stop right there you odd manifestations of ectoplasmic energy and post-human consciousness!” Maddie Fenton charged him with what appeared to be a rifle-style ecto-weapon. Jack was following her but ended up tripping.

“Post-human? Excuse you. I don’t recall losing my humanity when I was forcefully brought back from the dead.” He was pretty sure Pit Madness and the augmentation caused by the Waters didn’t count as losing one’s humanity. Ra’s al Ghul was living proof of that. Man had bathed in those Waters how many times over the centuries, and he still counted as being human. Though, since there had been some reports those same Waters could create zombies, there was probably some sort of fine line he could consider later.

“That’s just what you want us to believe, Ghost!” Jack shouted as he finally reached his wife’s side. “I bet that’s why you’re not trying to fly! You’re just trying to appear human to trick us!”

Jason rolled his eyes, not that they could tell. “I don’t really care if you believe me or not, but here’s the thing.” He adjusted his stance to look as tall and threatening as he could while still having Danny on his back. “My job right now is to make sure this kid gets to safety. I don’t give a shit who you are or who you think you are, but if you attempt to lay a hand on him, you’re going to find out the hard way why you don’t touch someone under my protection.”

He really hoped they took the warning and backed down. If he understood Danny correctly, the kid didn’t want harm to come to his parents. So, if they decided to push their luck, he’d have to be extra careful in how he handed the situation.

Speaking of Danny, he was pretty sure he felt the kid twitch. Good. He was starting to come out of it.

Jack straightened his shoulders in response as he aimed his weapon at Jason. “No ghost talks to Jack Fenton like that!”

On the other hand, Maddie looked over him and frowned before putting her hand on her husband’s arm. If he wasn’t mistaken, her eyes kept drifting to the insignia on his chest. “Jack, something’s not right. Phantom seems unresponsive, and this new one isn’t doing any of the standard displays of aggression.”

“’Standard display of aggression’? I don’t recall reading that anywhere in the briefing.” The Fentons turned to see Dick leaning against the closest house. Both of them jumped in alarm at his appearance. “Hood, do you know what they mean?”

For once, Jason was glad to hear the annoying voice of his brother. “I’m pretty sure they want me to stand in a bed sheet and yell ‘boo’.”

“I could see you doing that. Just make sure not to use the good sheets,” Dick teased as moved closer. He tilted his head and frowned. “What’s with the blue? Did you decide to take after me? Can’t really keep call you ‘Red Hood’ if you’re not wearing red.”

“And risk dying a second time? I’m not that stupid.” One of the first things they learned after being brought to the manor was that the bed sheets were to be used for no other purpose than being put on a bed. There was only one exception, and that was if they needed to be used for first aid purposes, if, and only if, there was no other alternative available. Disobeying Bruce was one thing, but disobeying Alfred was another.

But what did Dick mean by blue? Sure, he borrowed some of his clothes a while back when he was impersonating him, but he wasn’t going to do that again. That costume was much tighter than he anticipated. He knew Dick wasn’t as tall or broad as him so why did he think that was a good idea in the first place? “Do you really think I had time to change costumes? You must be going blind in your old age.”

During their exchange, Jack Fenton pointed at Dick and bounced excitedly. “Look, Mads! It’s one of the heroes from Gotham! Uh, Batwing!”

Jason snorted as Dick gave the man a flat look. “It’s Nightwing.”

While Jack seemingly ignored the correction, Maddie raised her weapon. “Ghosts are nothing but obsessive shadows of who they formerly were. People who side with them have either fallen for their tricks and lies or are possessed. So, which one is it?”

Dick glanced at him. “So, have you pulled any tricks on me recently?”

“Besides greasing some of your gymnastics equipment? No.”

“That was you? I face planted because of that!”

“Guess you need to work on your grip.” Even after so many years, Dick was still the most flexible out of them. Jason guessed the circus training never really went away. But he did have a habit of showing off, so every once in a while, either Jason or one of the others pulled a prank on him in an attempt to get him to mess up. The best ones where when they never even messed with the equipment and just distracted him enough to fall.

Apparently, Maddie Fenton didn’t appreciate their banter as she fired a warning shot near their feet. “Seeing as you’re friendly with him, I’m going to assume you’re either possessed or possibly a ghost yourself.”

“Wait, that could explain the impossible moves we’ve seen him do on the news! Or how he’s recovered from all the reported injuries! It’s because he’s a ghost! Does that mean Batman’s a ghost too?” Jack rambled. “What about the other heroes? Some of them are aliens sure, but is that just a cover for some of the others? What about metahumans?”

Jason shared a disbelieving look with his brother. Did these people really think that anything outside the realm of normal meant that ghosts were involved? They called ghosts obsessive, but this was something else.

Was it possible they were like him and contaminated with ectoplasm? Either Danny or Jazz had mentioned their parents had been working in paranormal sciences since college. So, between the amount of time and their lax safety measures, it was more than possible.

He was going to have to have a long talk with Bruce. Between the concerns of the Fentons’ health and the very real risk their skills in weapon development could be exploited, they were going to have to keep a close eye on the family. But that was something that would have to wait until after he got Danny to safety.

“We should look into that once we’re done with our initial studies,” Maddie agreed as she fired an easily dodged shot at them.

“Oh boy! I can’t wait to dissect these spooks!” Jack’s childlike excitement sent an involuntary shiver down Jason’s back. While it wasn’t the first time he’d encountered someone more interested in research than the safety of the subjects, it was the first time he’d seen someone talk about dissection with a smile like that.

“Want me to distract them while you escape?” Dick whispered as he moved his hands towards his escrima sticks.

“Can’t,” he replied as he dodged another blast, this time from Jack. “Phantom isn’t going to be able to pass through that dome. I’m not sure if I can either. Would have to get their vehicle and turn off its power source first.” After considering it a moment, he amended, “Actually, dismantling it is probably a better idea unless B decides he wants to take it.”

“Right. Change of plans then.” Instead of his sticks, Dick retrieved a pair of bolas and glanced at him.

After Jason’s slight nod of approval, the two of them moved in opposite arcs around the Fentons. Jack seemed to focus solely on him, but Maddie surprised him. While it was mentioned in the file they had on her she had martial arts training, her awareness of the situation and how she moved in response suggested she might be far more familiar with combat than they originally thought. That would also have to be investigated later.

When Jack sent another blast towards him and Danny, Dick took his chance to let loose one of his bolas. Maddie cried out in alarm as she tried to dodge, but Jack didn’t notice it in time. The large man had just enough time to look perplexed before toppling over. Maddie, on the other hand, managed to impressively dodge Dick’s second bolas.

For a moment, Jason debated on firing a rubber bullet at her. While it should be fine, there was always a chance it could cause serious harm. Even if he hit her leg or arm, the force could end up breaking bones. Even the minor explosives he still had could be very dangerous to her. He could try a smoke bomb. That did seem to trip them up before, but it wouldn’t change the status of that green dome. There was also the chance it could hinder them more since the Fenton equipment did allow them to get a hit on him earlier.

Maybe he should start listening to Bruce and start carrying more non-lethal containment methods with him. Or not. It wasn’t like it was going to help him in the current situation.

Fuck it. Rubber bullets it was. While Maddie still had her back turned towards Dick, Jason quickly unholstered his weapon and fired two quick shots at both hers and Jack’s guns. Both shots hit true. Maddie’s was knocked from her hand, and both hers and the one Jack dropped where visible damaged by the bullet. Unexpected, but nice. The sound had the added bonus of causing a momentary distraction.

Dick took the brief moment to knock Maddie out before giving him a sour look as he used some of the cord he kept to restrain her. Jason just gave him a cheeky grin in response while starting to race towards the Fenton tank as Jack starting yelling threats. Dick would catch up eventually.

As he dodged around the house and caught sight of the vehicle, he found a sight that nearly stopped him in his tracks due to the absurdity of it. Orphan could be seen in the open door while Danny’s friend, Tucker, was hesitantly trying to explain that he could help. He’d been wondering where Cass was. Sam was also there keeping looking and occasionally hissing at him to hurry up.

“If he can get rid of that dome, let him help,” he called out making the three of them watch his approach. “Nightwing’s coming.”

“What did you do to him?”

Tucker put his arm out in front of Sam, who looked furious enough to attack. “What do you need? I don’t know what’s currently happening, but between the news and Sam, I know Plasmius did something.” Although he kept his tone even, the teen stiff posture and uneasy frown gave away his nervousness. Danny really did have some good friends.

Jason nodded as he kept an eye on Sam. “Look, I don’t have time for this. We’re trying to him out of the area. Plasmius shocked him, and he’s only just starting to respond again. Both the Fentons and the GIW are nearby, and the Fentons have been tracking him.”

“And just how were you going to get out of here?” Sam demanded as Tucker hopped into the vehicle next to Cass and began pressing buttons. Whatever he did worked as the dome began disappearing.

“Sewer.” When the girl gave him a deadpan stare, he rolled his eyes and entered through the side door of the tank. She followed him and angrily hovered as he gently sat Danny down on one of the seats. “Look, I know us heroes are supposed to have all these ingenious answers and shit like that, but sometimes, the best answer is also the simplest one. We have limited movement here compared to Gotham so we’re working with what we have.”

“Sam, lay off. Danny’s safety is more important right now.” When she huffed, Tucker sighed apologetically. “Don’t mind her, she’s just worried. Would you guys like a lift? Both Sam and I are pretty familiar with Fenton tech.” While he tried to give a reassuring grin, it wavered a bit.

“If you can pilot this monster and put distance between it and the Fentons, I’m in.”

“I’m sorry, what are we doing?” Dick must have caught the end of the conversation as he appeared in the tank, making Sam and Tucker jump. Cass gave a couple silent chuckles at their response.

“Looks like we’re stealing a car tonight after all.”

“Were you seriously considering that earlier?”

“It’s not like it would have been the first time.”

“You know, I should probably be worried about professional heroes openly talking about car theft.” Tucker was watching them carefully with his hand hovering over the panel on the dashboard.

“You can worry about it later,” he mentioned with a roll of his eyes as his siblings shook their heads. “Right now, we need you to drive.” ….

Tucker surprisingly did know how to drive the tank, which Jason learned was actually called the Ghost Assault Vehicle. Having him drive it ended up being a blessing in disguise as he was able to get them closer to the hotel at a much faster pace than they would have been able to on foot, deciding that the halfway point would probably suffice. Tucker also offhandedly mentioned he’d be able to temporarily hack the system and completely shut it down so the Fentons wouldn’t be able to do much until they could get back into it.

It also gave Dick enough time to stubbornly demand to check the still burning wound on his arm. According to him, it appeared to be a nasty burn. When he wanted to clean it, Jason moved away, reminding him he still had that damned belt on. With everything else that happened, he had no desire to get shocked again.

That started an argument, excuse him, discussion about whether or not Dick should remove the belt. Without the necessary context behind it, Danny’s friends might have gotten a few wildly inaccurate assumptions about them, even after Dick specified they were talking about the Specter Deflectors. And to make it worse, between all of their equipment, there was no way Babs didn’t have a recording of that conversation. It was going to be used as blackmail. That was fact.

Once they were dropped off by Tucker, the trip through the sewers actually went well. Sure, they weren’t as big as the ones in Gotham, but they were relatively well maintained and didn’t appear to contain any supervillains. Though, Jason was almost certain he caught a couple glimpses of glowing rats. The Pit didn’t seem to react to them, and they didn’t show any hostility, so they were pretty far down on his list of worries.

In a surprising stroke of luck, there was a tunnel from the sewer system to the hotel they could use. Bruce and Duke were waiting for them when they emerged and led them through the emergency stairwell back towards their hotel room. He and Dick gave a brief summary of events with Cass adding a couple words here and there.

During the short trek, Duke kept sending glances his way. It was clear something was bothering him, but he didn’t want to talk about it. Was it because of Danny? Or was there something else? He’d worry about it later.

Thanks to Tim, they didn’t have to worry about the hotel security catching them moving. It was honestly refreshing to be able to enter a room in his gear without having to use a window. Speaking of the replacement, him and the demon brat seemed to have been discussing something with Steph and Babs over one of the computers when they walked in.

Deciding that wasn’t currently any of his business, he announced he was going to put Danny on one of the beds. Bruce nodded at him as Tim got up to follow in case any first aid was needed.

After getting the kid on the bed, Jason ripped off his goggles and mask and threw them on one of the plush chairs in the room. It had been one hell of a day, and after everything, they hadn’t really accomplished anything other than getting some new bruises. At least Danny was currently out of danger.

Glancing at the kid, he noticed that the dazed and unfocused expression had softened. It now appeared he was resting. Good. He could relax a little.

That might have been a bad idea. As soon as he loosened some of the tension in his shoulders, exhaustion like he’d never felt before washed over his body. He managed to take one step before something bright filled his vision before darkness overwhelmed him.

xxxxxxx

I already briefly mentioned the time Jason impersonated Dick as Nightwing. But as a side note, I have heard that one of Jason's Red Hood costumes after starting to redeem himself was in part created by using parts of some of Dick's. Can't seem to find the panels in question though.

Also, I could have sworn I got a comment asking if Danny's accident is canonically an electrocution or not. I have no idea where this comment went, or if I imaged it. Gonna answer it anyways. It's not explicitly stated in the show, but due to how it was portrayed in the opening and 'Memory Blank' most of us in the Phandom do believe it was some form of an electrocution. As a side note, there's a lot of debate on what ectoplasm might be. It's one of those things that seem to exist in any form it needs to be in the show. But, if it was in a true plasma form in the portal, then there's more credence to the electrocution idea as in scientific experimentation plasma is often either electrically charged or superheated. Ectoplasm is actually mentioned in parapsychology and paranormal studies, but all supposed photos of it during the spiritual craze in the 1800s/1900s are staged.

If it's not obvious, gun shots are very loud and can damage the hearing. The closer you are to it firing and the smaller the area where it went off (like a small room or car) the more likely it is to cause disorientation. If you're at a normal shooting range, the workers will not let you go into the room without ear protection because of how damaging that sound can be.

Hilariously, I recently realized that I can ultimately blame the creation of this fic on cosplay. A former friend coaxed me into cosplaying as the Red Hood as she wanted to cosplay Nightwing a while back which reintroduced me to the Bat Family, and things progressed. I have proof here.

Still taking suggestions for chapter titles. I'm currently going the song lyric approach which has led me to realize how many Avenged Sevenfold songs work really well with the Bat Family and their rogues in general. And random fun fact, in the 2021 Nightwing Annual #1, a flashback shows Jason is both a Slipknot and Lacuna Coil fan per the posters on his wall.

[lily-drake]

Family/Friends

Marinette was tired!  She had been up all night doing commissions, homework, and working on the Hawkmoth problem.  She needed coffee, and she needed it now.  Curse Tim for infecting her with his insomniac lifestyle.  She could hear the jerk laughing at her from an ocean away.  As she sipped at the concoction she called, “Resurrection” and she could actually see clearly she realized that the laughing was not in her head, nor was it an ocean away, it was a few feet away from her laying casually on her couch.

She stared at her brother while still sipping her coffee waiting for her brain to log back on.

“Going to offer me any?”

He finally asked with a smirk.  The cheeky ahole.

“No.”

She said blankly.

“Please Bean?”

She placed a finger to her chin and pretended to consider before repeating,

“No.”

He rolled his eyes and stood up taking quick steps to reach and hug her.  She rolled her eyes and held the coffee over her head.

“I’m not letting you steal it either!”

He grumbled and pulled away.

“Now, where are the others and why are you here.  I have to be somewhere soon.”

“We can’t just visit our baby sister.”

She raised an unamused brow making him sigh and roll his eyes.

“Fine, B took away the WiFi and Babs helped so I can’t hack it.  So….”

“So, you thought you could mooch off mine?  In Paris?”

“Well, since we understand the importance of finishing work I thought you’d understand?”

She paused and blinked at him, taking a slow sip of her coffee before sighing.

“Yea fine, just as long as you don’t do anything stupid and keep your emotions in check.”

“Thanks Bean.”

He said going in for another hug, and she quickly— it was graceful, she did not trip or stumble— ducked away.

“Nope, I know your tricks.”

She said as she hugged her mug to her chest and glared at the pouting man before he trudged back to the couch and laptop.

“Do the others know you're here?”

She asked as she finished off her mug and rinsed it in the sink.

“They shouldn’t.”

Marinette hummed and went upstairs to get ready for her group hangout.

_________

Marinette laughed at the joke Nino made.  She felt so happy being surrounded by her friends, that was until she spotted someone.  Quickly she excused herself and calmly and walked up to the man.

“Whatcha doin’ here Dicky?”

Marinette asked innocently.

“Oh you know, seeing the attractions, eating the food, looking for a sleep deprived Tim.”

“Tim?”

She asked, “confused”.

“What’s he doing here?”

“Bruce cut off his internet and I assumed he would come to you.”

Dick asked scanning we face for anything.  But she had been trained by Tim, Jason, and Damian to hide all traces of anything from both her dad and brother.  She learned the puppy eyes from Dick though, and they were very effective.

“I haven’t seen him.  Maybe he was just smart and went somewhere else.”

“Hmm, I guess that could be true.  Well, let’s go meet your friends.”

“Wait what, no-“

It was too late, he was already moving towards them and she knew this was her punishment for lying to her brother.

“Hey Marinette’s friends!”

Marinette rushed towards them and looked around anxiously as a few of her friend’s mouths dropped and some just glanced at him not knowing who he was.

“Oh my gosh, y-you’re-“

Alya turned to look at Marinette with wide eyes.

“You didn’t tell me you knew the Wayne’s!”

“W-well…I- th-they commissioned me!  I didn’t expect them to come all this way though.  See his fitting wasn’t for another few hours.”

Marinette covered. No one knew about who her real family was except her host family who let her take their name so she could go to school in peace.

“Yea, guess I just got excited.  Me and my family are just huge fans of your work.”

Marinette subtly rolled her eyes but brought a blush to her cheeks so she didn’t seem suspicious.

“Oh-well, thank you.  I-um…thanks.”

Her friends snickered and she shot them a non-threatening glare.  How was she supposed to warn Tim without Dick noticing?  He was obviously going to come to the bakery now.

_________

It was late at night when she saw a shadow move on the building she was on.  She had just finished her patrol route and her team would be meeting her for reports soon.

“Dad, Robin.”

She greeted without looking back at them.

“Tt.”

“Ladybug.”

As she opened her mouth she heard the sound of her teammates coming to the roof.

“Hey LB, how are-holy….i-it’s Batman!”

Chat whispered in awe.  Immediately after his statement Ryuko, Honey Bee, Rena Rouge, Carapace, and Viperion landed on the roof.  Only Chloe Kagami, and Luka were able to hide their shock and awe, one with indifference, another with stoicism, and the last being his normal serine self.

Ladybug sighed and rubbed her forehead in exhaustion.  It’s a family reunion she guessed, all she needed now was Red Hood and the girls.  Then again the girls were the only tolerable ones, besides Alfred.  It was going to be a long week at least.

“Guys, this is my dad, Batman and brother Robin.”

“DAD AND BROTHER?!”

Everyone, excluding Luka and Ryuko, basically shouted.

“Yes, and they were just leaving.”

She almost growled as she glared at her family.

“No we aren’t.  We are here to-“

“As the older sibling, and as this is my terf, I get the last say.”

Damian glared back at her and opened his mouth but closed it when Batman placed a hand on his shoulder.  His frown deepened and he refused to look at her as she smirked in victory.

“We’ll talk later then.”

“I guess we will.”

“Wait!”

Rena shouted getting out of her styler and pranced towards him like an overly eager fox.

“Could I get a picture with you, or maybe even an interview?  I won’t show anybody, but it would be so amazing!”

Her eyes were basically glowing as she asked.  Marinette glared at him and nodded.  If he did something stupid like this he deserved the punishment of her over eager friend and inner fan girl.  He sighed and stoically stood beside her.

“Wait, everyone needs to be in it!”

She said pulling everyone and arranging them into place.  She tried to touch Robin, but quickly thought better of it as he grabbed the hilt of his sword.  Ladybug had to hold back her snort.  It took about ten minutes, but they finally got the picture and her father and little brother finally left.

Reports went by quickly after that, but seemed tedious after the event that had just transpired.  Quickly she swung home and face planted onto her bed.  She could feel eyes on her and looked up to see her dad staring fondly at her.  She rolled her eyes before face planting back into her pillow with her middle finger raised in his direction.  She was too tired to put up with anything right now.

~~~~~~~~~

Never thought this would happen, but I have a tag list now, which is really cool. If anyone wants to be part of it please comment and tell me. ThNk you for all the support! @trippingovermyfeet @liquid-luck-00

[dont-be-so-shy]

birthday gifts

notes: 7k jaytim reverse robins oneshot

Jason Todd is turning fourteen in half an hour when he comes down to the Batcave that night. He’d spent the day with Dickie, B, Alfie, and a few of his other friends before B had left early to go and kill some crime. Dick had gone home to Blüdhaven a half hour ago and Alfie was either puttering about upstairs or sleeping.

He steps into the Cave and instantly spots a silhouette, a tall lanky person dressed in a jacket and boots with a helmet under their arm. The Red Hood steps out the shadows of The Case. This is the first time Jason’s seen him up close. Black body armor cover his torso, he’s also wearing thin, insulated black combat pants, black combat boots made for both stealth and to break people’s tibia’s, and a black leather jacket with a blood stain near the hip, the sleeves decorated in patches: Robin’s R, Batman’s B, a purple Batgirl insignia, and one of a purple alien’s face which he immediately knows is in reference to Oracle. And of course, the telltale dark red helmet underneath his arm.

Timothy Drake, the dead Robin, smiles at him from the shadows of the uniform he wore as he died. “Robin.”

Jason’s fingers clench and he can barely keep himself from stumbling back. “Red Hood.”

Tim, maskless, steps closer, and Jason sees that his eyes are teal𑁋a mix of baby blue and poison green. (Tim’s eyes are supposed to be sky blue.)

“Batman𑁋Bruce𑁋everyone said you were dead.” He stutters. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. The dead Robin, grieved by so many, a crime lord? Does he yell for help, fight him, say hi? Is this even Tim or another one of Clayface’s tricks?

“I was.” Tim says calmly, and that’s one point for Really Tim𑁋supposedly he was always zen, calm, in control no matter what. Jason aspires to be like Tim mostly because sometimes (usually in the months of April and July) Bruce looks at him differently𑁋like he’s expecting something else, and he feels… upset. “Not anymore.”

“Okay…” Jason says. It doesn’t matter what’s going on; he finds he doesn’t want Tim to leave. Then he realizes how weird that would sound if he said it out loud: finding comfort in a dead boy he’s never even met but has always been in the shadow of? He blushes and his head ducks on instinct. (Hide your tears, hide your eyes, hide your face. Don’t make them want to hunt.)

Tim steps forward, and when Jason doesn’t move back, places a folder he withdraws from his jacket into his hand. Tim tilts his head to the left, eyes curious and more blue than green, and he says, “What are you thinking?”

Jason, with all his experience with crushes (one slightly strange and very short-lived crush on Damian, another on Eddie Bloomberg, who’s dead, one on Rose Wilson, and the last on Donna Troy and Diana Prince simultaneously𑁋God, that was weird) and relationships (nil), says with all of his tact, “I’m thinking that I’m really hoping it’s really you because I’ve been dreaming about meeting you since I got here.”

Then he realizes what he just said𑁋word-vomited𑁋and blushes again, harder this time. He hears a soft and not-mocking laugh and sees Tim’s warm blue eyes before Tim’s leaning in and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “You’re cute.”

Jason thinks he should probably accept Duke’s offer of teaching him how not to blush because he really didn’t think he was capable of being this prickly-hot ever.

Tim turns and slides into the shadows𑁋Jason really needs to learn how to do that𑁋and twenty seconds later, there’s the sound of a Bat-engine huffing quietly into the Cave. Jason turns around abruptly, not stopping to see who it is, stuffs the file up his loose and faded Blüdhaven Bloodhounds T-shirt and runs up the stairs, hearing Bruce’s confused, “Jason?” and stumbling over, “No, I’m fine.”

Tim’s gift folder turns out to be a list of Black Mask’s drug running locations, codes, and runners, because Tim is𑁋supposed to be𑁋a perfectionist like that.

It’s a week until he sees Tim again, at a family dinner slash meeting. Basically, everyone shows up, they eat, they talk about normal family stuff𑁋he guesses, this is the first normal family he’s been in and Batman and his brood aren’t exactly normal𑁋and if anyone wants a consult on one of their cases, they’ll spread the pages of information across a cleared area of the humongously long dining table and everyone will take turns pitching in.

Jason likes these dinners because he gets to see everyone and Bruce is always wearing this proud Papa Bear smile and Duke and Cass always gang up on him to ruffle his hair and hug him hard enough he squawks, and Bruce lets Jason read his books under the table during dinner like he almost never lets him when it’s just them two of them and Alfred and Steph always sneaks Jason extra ice cream because Bruce always buys neapolitan but Alfred keeps enforcing the two-scoops-per-person rule until, halfway through, he eventually just sits back, amused.

Alfred and Damian have taken to opening the Wayne’s fan mail during these dinners while Duke explains the intricacies of the case he’s working on in Opal City involving prostitutes, drug runners, and traffickers and how he should approach the situation𑁋undercover op and risk losing the tail he has on a separate gunrunning gang or a more typical approach but taking on two heavy cases at once?

Steph’s just started recommending Duke team up with Vixen or Arsenal when Alfred’s voice wavers, “Master Bruce?”

The whole table quiets. This is family dinner night. There are no emergencies on family dinner night. Damian stands and hands a multi-page letter to Bruce and Duke slides out of his seat almost directly under the chandelier to read over Bruce’s shoulder. The two’s faces progressively drop more and more into Bat as they read the letter and Jason’s starting to get a bad feeling about this. Steph’s accessing the security camera above Bruce’s shoulder from her favorite Bat-tablet and Alfred is leaning into Cass’ shoulder, whose gaze is analyzing the windows and other points of entry warily.

Duke inhales shakily. “It says… It says that recently the League of Assassins revived someone using the Lazarus Pit. The Red Hood.” As soon as the word ‘League’ comes out of Duke’s mouth, Jason’s fingers are twitching again, itching to scar the palms of his hands like they always do when he’s anxious. “There’s a picture of𑁋Steph, can you pull up the cemetery, please?𑁋It says Tim’s the Red Hood.”

Nobody visibly reacts at the words and Steph’s purple hologram shows the Wayne’s plot of land in Gotham’s biggest and most popular cemetery. She types in a command and the picture zooms in on Tim’s grave.

Timothy Jackson Drake July 19𑁋April 27 Son, Friend, Hero “If Gotham needs a hero, I have to provide.”

A small bat is carved into the lower left corner, barely covered by grass. There are fresh flowers on the grave𑁋Jason thinks Cass, Duke, or Damian must have put them there. Duke and Damian always try to visit Tim’s grave on their way in or out of town. Jason recognizes water lilies, which means Damian. Cass uses roses and Duke honeysuckle. In flower language, water lilies mean rebirth and innocence and honeysuckle means happiness and affection. He doesn’t think they know that, Damian in particular.

There’s a knock on the door and everyone jumps. Alfred goes to answer it as he always does, but this time Cass follows and Steph pulls up the live camera footage of the front steps. A male-looking figure with black hair is on the front stoop, holding a bouquet of daffodils and lilacs. Rebirth and unconditional love. Whoever it is𑁋Tim, his mind screams𑁋is wearing a shrunk-in-the-wash too-small blue and yellow sweatshirt and dark blue skinny jeans with black boots. Steph switches the feed to the foyer. Alfred opens the door and it is Tim’s face that looks back at them, poison𑁋Lazarus𑁋green almost nonexistent in his eyes, face slightly scared, and bouquet outstretched.

“Hi.” Tim says on camera, reaches into his coat and grabs a paperclipped stack of paper, the first page being blood charts and DNA tests before Cass is grabbing him in a tight hug and, in the dining room, Duke, Bruce, and Damian are launching towards the door, Bruce moving as fast as his broken fibula will let him. Steph is speeding in her chair and Jason can feel his cheeks strain; he realizes he’s grinning too wide.

Alive𑁋alive, alive, alive. Tim Drake is really, truly, well and alive.

Bruce and Alfred are crying over Tim, who’s trying to hide his smile in his scarf, then it’s Duke and Damian, Damian cradling his head and whispering an Arabic dialect Jason has yet to learn, then it’s Steph and Cass, both holding as close as physically possible, holding him like they want to crawl into his skin and live with him, then he’s moving forward before Cass and Steph are even off him.

He pauses when he realizes he doesn’t know what to do. Why would he cry and hug and say ‘It’s you, it’s really you, you ass’ to a dead boy he’s never met, or spoken to in any meaningful manner?

Tim’s hands are reaching and wrapping around his shoulders and wow, Jason’s just realizing that even though he’s small for his age, three inches too short, only five feet tall but still only five or so inches shorter than Tim, who should be𑁋how old is he? Seventeen𑁋at least an inch taller.

As Tim hugs him and cradles the back of his head, Steph is selfish and keeps her arms wrapped around Tim’s hips but one of Cass’ hands land in his hair. Then he feels soft pressure and warmth along his back𑁋Duke, another hand settle on his shoulder𑁋Damian, soft sobs and even more warmth to contradict the cool breeze coming from outside through the open door his bare ankles aren’t liking𑁋Bruce, a trembling hand on his back𑁋Alfred. Then Tim’s shaking, moving his shoulders in deliberate movements, stepping back from the tight and warm embrace with big eyes. Tim whispers, “Coffin. Claustrophobia. Pit. Thermophobia. Sorry.”

They move the sitting room. Steph refuses to let go of Tim’s hand, Alfred grips his forearm from his spot next to him, Bruce sits cross-legged on the floor in front of him and Duke rests his chin on one of Steph’s knees. Tim strips of his sweatshirt in the warm room with the burning fireplace𑁋where they usually play Clue after family dinner nights and where Bruce reads Jason Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes books on nights they’re alone𑁋leaving him in a thin and pale gray sweater with a graphic of a Minecraft zombie on it and showing off an old, stained bandage on his wrist.

Tim’s knuckles are bruised to hell and back but there are no scars on his hands like there were in the pictures, no burn scar on the back of his neck, no scar just under the plump part of his lower lip. The Lazarus Pit’s healing capabilities are god-tier but Ra’s al Ghul is a myth as much as he is a legend and Jason never thought he’d be witness to this. Tim meets his eyes from where he’s been looking on softly at Alfred and Jason realizes he’s been staring at Tim’s lips for entirely too long. Tim’s eyes turn amused yet gentle in a way that reminds of that day in the Cave and of the summer sun in San Fran, only for Jason to realize with a start that Tim’s eyes are almost entirely the captivating ice blue they were fabled to be, poison green leached out almost completely.

Tim and Jason don’t speak again𑁋well, look heavily at each other𑁋until later that night, at around midnight. It’s a family dinner night, not a patrol night, so Jason was supposed to be in bed an hour ago but exceptions can be made for newly-resurrected family members. No one even mentions Jason’s bedroom until he starts to leave the kitchen𑁋where they’ve relocated𑁋to head to bed. Jason’s known Tim was alive for a week even though part of him wondered if it was a hallucination or a trick and he has an English test tomorrow. He really likes Mr. Lakely.

Jason leaves his door open, like you do as an ‘okay, you can creepily sneak into my room in the middle of the night and cuddle me’ that Duke started back when he was Batman’s only protege. His covers are handmade by Alfred, given to him for his second Christmas at the manor, which means they’re extra warm, thick, and soft. They’re weighted too, because Alfred is a godsend who’s used to knowing people who want only one blanket but a heavy one. Jason’s not like that. Cold winters in the East End make him sleep with three blankets, one weighted, and two pillows. Also, Sparky the stuffed dog because he’s sentimental.

Jason’s eyes are half-lidded and close to sliding shut when Cass and Tim come into his room. Cass double-checks the locks on his windows as Tim sits in a big plush blue armchair stained with ink that only Bruce uses, when he reads to Jason while he’s sick.

Cass leaves and shuts the door behind her and he can hear the scraping of the I’m Not Mad At You sign against the door but he forgets about everything except Tim when Tim leans forward and rests his forehead on Jason’s forearm, one hand gripping his.

Tim looks up at him but his gaze stays on his cheeks, right where Jason’s blush is. It only makes him blush harder.

“Hey,” Tim says.

“Hey,” Jason whispers back.

“I’ve got a surprise for you. Two.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tim pulls out a collapsible bo staff from the pocket of his sweatshirt, which he’s put back on sometime during the night.

“It’s a bo. Chinese, traditional but also new and improved. I designed it myself.” Jason nearly breaks his cheeks smiling and Tim smiles back, soft but his eyes are warm enough to light fires. Jason’s happy to see that Tim’s eyes are no less blue than they were at the beginning of the night.

Jason taps ‘thank you’ and ‘I love it’ against Tim’s bare forearms where his sleeves are rolled up and says aloud, “And the second?”

“Close your eyes.” It takes a second, maybe four, but Tim’s lips, chapped and dry but also warm, press against his eyelids, one by one.

“Thank you.” Tim breathes against his skin.

“For what?” Jason asks, slowly opening his eyes, eyelids feeling stuck𑁋glued shut.

“For helping Bruce. For becoming Robin.” Tim’s still whispering even though Jason knows that he knows full well they wouldn’t be disturbing anyone, and Jason feels like maybe he shouldn’t be feeling so warm at the thought of a secret.

“Batman needs Robin.” Tim whispers throatily against Jason’s shoulder, which is bare except for the strap of a red tank top.

“Yeah.” Jason whispers, knows he’s staring at Tim’s hair𑁋black and silky with a white streak slicing through it𑁋entirely too obviously to be utilizing literally any of his Bat training. “Yeah, okay.”

Jason can’t remember how or when he falls asleep. In fact, he can’t remember anything past Tim’s warm lips on his shoulder and an indistinguishable whisper𑁋Tim’s rough scream-hoarse voice and how it felt vibrating quietly against his throat.

He wakes up because one of the sun’s beams is shining into his eye uncomfortably, then he realizes it was actually probably the numerous Bat(-human hybrids, chants Steph in his mind)s surrounding him. Bruce is sitting in the armchair Tim sat in last night, Duke perched on the armrest. Cass and Damian are sitting by his Favorite Book bookshelf and the door to his library and Steph is closer to the windows, wheelchair in the middle of his carpeted floor.

Jason panics when the thought crosses his mind that they might be interrogating him𑁋wondering where Tim went, before he realizes that the warmth on his right side is not the sun. It’s Tim, still wearing his sweatshirt, jeans, and colored pastel bobby pins, which has got to be uncomfortable. Then he has to try to wrestle his blush down because it’s Tim’s breath he feels against his neck and shoulder, Tim’s hair tickling his cheek, Tim’s legs lying over his, the blankets Alfred made between them and his.

Jason brings his arm up from under his blankets to land haphazardly on Tim’s face, swatting at his cheek and pulling at his hair until Tim’s eyes blink open, a vague mix of blue and green that makes Jason want to swoon like one of his favorite classic novel female protagonists.

Then he remembers he’s lying on a bed with a boy he’s never met cuddling him, his entire family surrounding and watching him. The swoon dies a sudden and painful death, much like how Icarus flew then dropped. ‘Death to you and death to you and death to all of you!’ He imagines Oprah yelling gleefully as he sits up in bed, letting the blankets pool to his hips. “...Good morning?”

Beside him, Tim sits up, leaving the bed and moving towards Jason’s mirror, pulling bobby pins out of his hair.

“Good morning, boys.” Bruce says pleasantly, and he can tell B is feeling very amused right now but his lapis lazuli blue eyes are still watery. Is it normal to cry for eight hours straight? Jason’s not sure he can get a good answer to that question, since the only person he knows who’s died and come back is Superman and he’s basically a god.

Duke starts up conversation with Cass and it becomes clear that his family is here for Tim𑁋that they want to be in the same space as him as much as he does, maybe more. He grabs some random clothes from his top dresser and locks himself in the bathroom, the click of the lock giving him a feeling of privacy even though he knows his lock is no match for anyone’s lockpicking skills.

Over the next few months, Tim settles in their family. He’s the Red Hood, fearless and manipulative Gotham crime lord, but he’s also Tim, who’s smart and strong and non-judgmental to everyone despite their past or background.

When Jason tells Tim about his past in the East End with his mom and Willis and the things he did to stay alive, Tim just smiles sadly and tells him he’s sorry about his pain but not sorry he met Jason. Jason… understands and smiles painfully back.

Over the next few months, life continues and Tim’s there for him even when he’s not physically there. Kon, one of Jason’s closest friends, is killed by Superboy-Prime during the heroes' clash against the Secret Society of Supervillains. Tim holds him and presses kisses to his hair while he cries in the Batplane, Tim comes with him to the memorial for Superboy in Metropolis, and Tim leaves tulips𑁋Kon’s favorite𑁋on Kon’s grave with him. Tim fights against the Society in the Battle of Metropolis with him. After that, he learns Blüdhaven is blown up and radioactive. Dick, Jason, and Bruce go on a two-month-long sabbatical, returning in time for his sophomore year at Gotham Heights High.

(For his fifteenth birthday, Tim sneaks into his room in Titans Tower after his party𑁋Jason had a party the past weekend with his family in the manor𑁋and holds him in bed. He wakes up in his dark room in the middle of the night to Tim’s lips on his temple. Jason keens in the back of his throat and grips Tim’s bicep when he tries to leave. Tim smiles at him𑁋softly, the way Jason only sees him smile when he’s talking to him and isn’t that just an immense ego boost𑁋and stays the night. Jason deals with Kori’s proud smile and Gar’s catcalls as they all try to pretend they’re not grieving Kon so badly they feel like their hearts might burst.)

Tim joins Dick in New York and they work together for a few months, before Tim flies out to California to visit Connor Hawke in Star City for another three months. He comes home for Christmas.

(For Christmas, Jason sneaks into Tim’s new room𑁋his old one remains untouched by anyone except Damian, Alfred, and Jason𑁋and lies with him. Tim keeps his room cold but doesn’t use any blankets. With Tim, phobias are complicated. Claustrophobia makes him not like the weight of blankets against his skin. Tim fears the Joker as much as he’s angry at him. Tim hates the cold and closed, tight spaces. Tim hates hot tubs and pools and hates warm open spaces when it’s humid enough to feel the warmth under his skin. Tim runs a little hot so his lips are always warm when they press against Jason’s skin but Tim gets cold really easily and likes wrapping himself up in layers. Tim hates fireplaces and occasionally has a panic attack at the thought of cooked meat and Tim refuses to eat Asian takeout sometimes. One time Jason went to Tibet for a Robin mission with Cass and Tim didn’t leave his bed for days. Jason forgets about how he fears Tim might leave him, stop wrapping him in kind, gentle affection if he fails when Tim presses his face against Jason’s neck and holds him and only falls asleep when Jason reads Pride & Prejudice to him aloud.)

After Christmas, Tim drops off the face of the earth for three weeks and Jason fucks up badly enough to get his arm broken by Scarecrow. Tim comes back a week into Jason’s recovery. His eyes are closed off, and slightly more green than Jason is used to seeing, and his shoulders are stiff enough to make some old priests at the cathedral Jason used to go to proud. Tim doesn’t speak as he climbs into Jason’s bed, carefully avoiding his bandaged arm, but Jason wakes in the middle of the night to tears on his not-injured arm. When Bruce comes into his room at dawn, just in from a long, grueling patrol as a way to punish himself for Jason’s injury despite it not being his fault, Tim launches himself at him and startles him so much they fall to the floor in embrace.

It turns out Tim got stuck in an alternate universe𑁋Earth-51, to be exact𑁋where Jason’s not there and B chose lethal violence after Tim’s death. Tim talks, and he tells them, and Alfred, that he’d felt vindicated but also sick to his stomach.

In between Tim and Jason’s adventures with dead friends and killer dads, Jason starts his junior year at Gotham Heights High, the school Tim went to (Dick went to Gotham City High) and died at the end of the year of. Tim adopts the name Tim Head𑁋stolen from Talia al Ghul𑁋to attend Gotham University and starts studying computer science.

When Jason gets all A’s and B’s on his report card, Tim takes him and Cass (who just graduated Grieve High, where there was a shootout that scared the crap out of Jason and outed the Bats’ existence to the world) out to Gotham’s only mall, the Silver Lake Plaza in Coventry.

Tim gets a second tattoo (his first being a dragon wrapping around his right bicep) of a pair of crossed swords on his clavicle. Cass gets a dye job that turns the tips of her short hair red, and Jason gets his ears pierced. The whole thing takes eight hours because, in between, they window-shop and extort the food court and have a photo shoot for Cass in the department store section. Tim gives Jason his leather jacket and never asks for it back.

…And Jason starts wearing it with everything because he’s just that kind of sap. He loves the jacket, black with golden stitches and the vigilante patches on the right sleeve and the roses that line the hips-side to try and hide the bloodstains.

The day after he auditions for Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Tim and Damian pick him up in Damian’s Porsche. April 28th, the day after Tim’s death day (Jason always stays home on that day), Tim picks him up with an amused smirk𑁋probably because he’s doing nothing to hide the fact that he’s the newest thing at this school since Callie Evans dyed her hair and joined the basketball team. Tim’s wearing a red and black long-sleeve turtleneck shirt with black leggings and the same black boots he wore the night he came out as alive to the family, silver hoop earrings all over his ears and a new one on his lip. Jason knows he got it for an undercover op in Star City but still looks hot as hell, and leaning against his daytime motorcycle, dark blue and sleek as hell because even his daytime shit is better than most people’s, Tim looks so god-like it makes him blush.

Jason laughs delightedly when Tim takes him to Grant Park where there’s a showing of Macbeth and kisses him on the cheek when Tim buys him neapolitan from a nearby vendor, tipping nearly fifty bucks. Tim smiles down at him, eyes clear blue.

The only thing is… Jason’s sixteen now, and Tim nineteen. There’s no reason they shouldn't start dating, doing more, touching more.

They’ve been… entangled for years by now, but they haven’t even kissed.

Jason brings it up when they’re watching Quentin Tarantino’s movies in Tim’s favorite hideout, the old, decrepit Monarch Theater in Crime Alley.

“Why won’t you kiss me?” Tim doesn’t pause the movie, or visibly react at all but Jason has his head on his shoulder and his hand on Tim’s wrist, so he feels Tim’s pulse jump.

“I…” Tim wets his lip and swallows roughly, the hand in Jason’s moving to interlock their fingers. “I can, if you want me to. I just… I’m older and we’re𑁋complicated, and truth to be told, I’m worried you’ll. I dunno. Something.”

Jason moves onto his knees on the couch, staring Tim in his blue-green eyes and ignoring the movie still playing behind him.

“Tim.” He starts and his voice is a whisper, “I love you.”

His voice clears. “I really, really love you. And I think you do too. And I want you to kiss me. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. But if you do, please, please kiss me.”

Tim stares, then smiles and leans into the hand Jason’s put on his cheek. “I love you too. You knew that already.”

“I did.” Jason’s whispering again, voice too delicate to speak any louder.

“Okay.” Tim says. “Okay.”

Jason sits in Tim’s lap and turns to watch the rest of the movie. By the time Jason has to go back to manor, Steph outside to pick him up, they’ve eaten all their sour gummy worms and Jason’s started chewing gum.

He throws it out when it loses flavor and after he gets packed up, Tim pulls him closer by his shirt and his wrist, and presses his soft, warm lips to Jason’s. The kiss is gentle but fiery and Jason gasps when Tim’s hands fall to his hips and he runs his thumbs along the skin under his shirt. They split; Jason smiles into Tim’s shoulder. Jason leaves the theater with kiss-swollen lips and a blinding smile and Steph catcalls as he gets in the self-driving car.

After that, it gets easier. When Tim picks Jason up from school and takes him to Caroline's Diner, they hold hands. When Tim wakes up screaming, Jason turns on all the lights in his room and holds Tim close and kisses all of Tim’s freckles. When Tim and Jason say hello and goodbye, they press their lips together and Jason opens up before Tim and pushes back into Tim and he always feels prickly hot when they make out because when they make out he wants to crawl into Tim’s skin, and wear it and feel it and have it around him𑁋be it𑁋all day.

At this point, it’s a schedule. Thursday nights, Jason and Tim walk into the theater. Jason methodically strips off and folds his leather jacket, letting it catch on the skull rings Damian gave him for his birthday as a gift. He climbs into Tim’s lap, straddles his thighs, and they kiss, slow and long like nothing Jason’s ever known with Cassie or Ariana or Anita or anyone of the others.

Jason spends his early summer in California. It’s not exactly happy, not really, because Bart’s an adult now and he and Cassie are still grieving Kon. Cass gets kidnapped and disappears for five days. They find her in Malaysia and wreak havoc on the Kobra Cult that kidnapped her. Jason and Tim are the ones who find the leader, and they don’t hurt him too bad because it turns out they’ve both met Danny Temple and like him a whole lot.

Tim turns 20 and everyone drinks at his party even though Jason, the youngest, is still sixteen and Tim’s not even legal drinking age yet. Tim’s been drinking since he left catatonia behind and met Talia al Ghul and Jason’s been sneaking champagne at galas with Damian’s help since he got adopted.

Bruce adopts a ten-year-old boy named Dick Grayson and nobody can really blame him because Haly’s Circus was intended to be a short family outing, which means everyone was there. Dick finds out soon enough and even though Jason likes Dick well enough, but he’s still worried about Cassie who doesn’t seem to be getting better, and planning for his seventeenth birthday.

Two days before Jason’s seventeenth birthday and three days after Steph’s 21st, Bruce gets killed. For Jason, it’s the last straw. Sure, he has Tim and Cassie and Damian, but he’s just lost so many people. Kon is dead, Bart is dead, and Bruce? He wants to scream at the sky and demand they give B back to him. He settles for screaming at Damian instead. Damian is prickly and feeling violent and their scream-and-blame fest ends with Jason in the medbay for his sprained wrist and broken nose.

Jason stays at Tim’s that night. Tim’s not home. Duke has locked himself in his apartment in Opal City and no one’s heard from him since the funeral. Damian hasn’t left the Cave in forever. Steph has poured herself into her Birds and Cass moved permanently to Hong Kong. Dick didn’t know Bruce that well, doesn’t know how to grieve again so soon after losing his parents, so he’s settled for being extra happy, as if that will help.

Jason’s birthday is forgotten, Damian puts on the cowl, and Tim is still gone.

It’s 4 AM in the morning, 2 weeks after… B, and Jason is curled up in the center of Tim’s king-size bed when he hears the sound of a door opening and closing. His hand closes on a gun he stole from a mugger two days ago. The bedroom door slides more open from its cracked-open position and it’s… Tim who slips in. He looks exhausted, with designer eyebags and his long hair unwashed and tangled.

“Jay?” When he speaks to him, his voice is hoarse and Jason knows he’s been having night terrors and cigarettes and not drinking his soothing tea. Jason knows because he hasn’t been either.

“Tim.” He says and he can see scratches on Tim’s arms and splotches of blood through his gray sweater tee. He moves on autopilot, something he finds himself doing more and more since B is losing himself in his own head, and when he comes back to himself, he’s curled around Tim and back in bed.

Tim is shivering and Jason can feel the wet spot of his blood on his shirt with his fingers but Tim doesn’t ask for bandages and Jason can’t bring himself to move. Jason doesn’t know where Tim has been, what he’s been doing, and he knows he should be mad. He’s not though. Not yet at least. Not while Tim is shivering, while Jason can feel Tim’s blood on his hands, not while Jason can feel drops falling from Tim’s eyes to his palm.

The next day, Jason wakes up to the smell of coffee and buckwheat pancakes. When he walks out of Tim’s room to his kitchen, Tim is at the stove flipping some, humming along to The Clash. Jason smiles a bit as he presses himself against Tim’s back, hands on his hips and lightly grazing his lips over the back of his neck. Jason sits on Tim’s brown leather barstools and buries his face into the crooks of his elbows.

The sound of ceramic against wood makes Jason look up to the plate Tim has set on the counter, two pancakes slathered with melting butter. Tim’s back is to him again so Jason doesn’t grab his plate, just watches Tim work. He’s changed out of his blood-stained sweater shirt, which reminds Jason that he should probably wash his hands again, seeing as a light dusting of red still coats his inner wrists. Tim has put on one of Jason’s butter yellow sweatshirts, one of Cass’ neon yellow and dark gray sweatpants, and Steph’s fuzzy rabbit socks are high on his ankles.

Jason smiles at the ridiculousness of the entire ensemble and that’s the expression that makes Tim smile back at him when he turns around with his plate of pancakes, these ones drowned in maple syrup and sliced strawberries.

Tim reaches out and pulls Jason’s plate closer to him on the countertop and Jay takes the opportunity to rest his hand on Tim’s elbow. Tim’s arm slides from his until they’re interlocking fingers. Tim eventually pulls his hand away to eat𑁋left-handed that he is, just like Jason𑁋and Jason’s hand lands in his hair.

Soon, they’ve moved to the couch in the living room. Jason is curled up into the armrest, Tim is curled up into him. Jason’s eating with one hand, the other hand running through Tim’s now washed hair from where his arm is curled around Tim’s shoulders.

They haven’t said a word to each other all morning.

Lounging on the couch is a perfectly good plan in Jason’s opinion, seeing as he hasn’t seen his boyfriend in forever but Tim’s face is changing into his business face and his hand is reaching for his Bat-tablet, so Jason kisses morning cuddles and a lazy day goodbye.

On the screen of Tim’s favorite Bat-tech tablets, there is a picture of an old portrait hanging in Wayne Manor. The inscription reads ‘Mordecai Wayne’.

“It’s Bruce.” Tim says, and Jason stares at him, askance.

“Uh… Tim?” He says, hoping the confusion in his voice will ask the questions his words can’t.

“It’s Bruce.” Tim says again, swallowing nervously and glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. He launches into an explanation about his theory on time travel and Darkseid’s Omega beams and Gotham and the Wayne family’s history. Half of what Tim’s saying makes almost no sense to Jason𑁋time travel shenanigans, ugh𑁋but enough of it makes sense that Tim’s theory seems actually plausible.

Jason curls tighter around Tim and starts speaking quietly into his ear. Together, they form a plan.

Two days later, they’re ready. Jason and Tim have their bags packed, their fake passports ready, and their plan made. They’re first flying to Madrid on one of Tim’s hunches. Damian chose Dick to be his Robin, which disappointed the both of them immensely. Tim is still working as Red Hood, so Jason’s become Red Robin. Yes, he’s so creative, isn’t he? Supposedly, Red Robin is an identity Tim used while traveling interdimensionally to other Earths. The suit actually fits Jason fine, if a little small, since Jason is only three inches taller than Tim and they are about the same width.

In the car they’ve rented just for the occasion, Tim dresses as Al Draper and Jason becomes Peter Greenburg.

Once they’re off the plane in Spain𑁋such a long flight𑁋they change into Red Hood and Red Robin. When they reach one of B’s old safehouses, they change back into Tim and Jason.

Jason makes lemon tea with honey and they both curl up on the couch and watch the news. Tim is reading an article about Britney Spears on his WE tablet and Jason is scrolling through Instagram on his phone. It’s only 5 PM and their mission doesn’t start until sundown. It’s time for the retired Robins to go worldwide.

It’s three long and tiring months before Jason steps foot on Gotham soil𑁋hell, United States soil𑁋again. Damian activates his distress signal when news comes in from Hal Jordan (who is apparently a Green Lantern again? Jason doesn’t know, Lantern Corps events are too confusing) that Nekron has decided to activate the Black Lantern Power Core on Earth.

Or, in Steph’s very blunt and actually-make-sense words, “Basically Lantern villain is raising zombies. Don’t give in to them or they’ll kill you. Worldwide event. You know the drill.”

It turns out Nekron is raising only bad guys or people with emotional attachments to heroes, seeing as the GCPD headquarters, currently being defended by the Commish, Steph, and a new Batgirl he’s never met before except for once when he was 12, Barbara Gordon.

Later, while crawling through the sewers𑁋well, not really crawling but it feels just as gross𑁋they’re attacked by the reanimated corpses of Jack and Janet Drake (Tim’s parents), Catherine Todd and Sheila Haywood (Jason’s moms), Mary and John Grayson (Dick’s parents), Sarah Essen (the Commish’s wife) and David Cain (Cass’ dad). Well, they’re all being haunted by ghosts.

Jason is later enveloped in hugs by Kon, who he saw re-alive in Paris, Bart, who’s apparently alive𑁋why didn’t he know?, and Cassie. Jason is starting to feel more and more hopeful about his and Tim’s chances involving their Plan.

The hope blossoms into full-on conviction when Damian, Duke, Dick, and Alfred fly to London to put B’s body in a Pit. Tim is very against the plan and takes the opportunity to say ‘I told you so’ when it turns out the corpse is an insane doppelganger of B, not the real thing.

It’s another three months before Jason steps foot on America again. Seriously, he thinks Europe, Africa, and Asia are great and all and the sightseeing trips he and Tim took were amazing, but with Ra’s al Ghul on your tail it’s rather paranoia-inducing. Plus, there’s something about Gotham𑁋in her air, in his bones𑁋that raises his blood pressure, makes his eyes light up, makes him a little more energetic about things. Gotham is magic, but you can only feel it𑁋see it𑁋if you’re born in it.

It makes him think about the series he and Tim finished on their Eurotrip (or is it Brucequest?). BBC’s Merlin and two of the most powerful scenes: “I was born with it.”

About their… vacation, Jason should probably update his medical records, seeing as he’s now missing a spleen, Tim’s eyes are burning green, a month-long side effect of using the Lazarus Pit, and the two now have three assassin besties. How fun!

Their data helps Booster Gold and the newly-reformed Justice League save Bruce from self-implosion and everything is fine again. Jason cries for the first time since the desert in Baghdad (where he cradled Tim’s dead body and Pru held her neck shut as she drove) when B pulls him against him and presses kisses to every inch of his face.

It’s summer in Gotham again and Tim has just turned 21. Tim’s birthday party is just them, Damian, Duke, Cass, Connor Hawke, one of Tim’s new civilian university friends Sasha, and Roy Harper going out to a Star City nightclub and getting shit-faced, blackout drunk. Tim and Jason make out on the bed in their hotel room, and, from the sounds of it Connor and Cass are chaperoning Duke, who’s actually a sneaky, fun drunk, and Roy and Sasha have hooked up. Jason’s pretty sure he sees Black Canary but he’s not actually sure ‘cause, again, making out with his super-hot boyfriend here.

They do the same thing when Jason turns eighteen, except they celebrate in Gotham and B and Jason have a celebratory joint patrol taking down Professor Pyg beforehand.

There’s another multiversal event but Jason’s unconscious and kidnapped for most of it. Later, some magician visits Gotham and traps Tim in a mirror. After he gets out, Jason goes on a mission to space with his Titans that he’s co-leading with Cassie and Tim has somehow become good friends with Roy Harper and gotten pretty close to Starfire.

The first time Tim and Jason have sex, they’re both completely sober despite the lead-up being the Wayne’s famous New Years party at one of Lex Luthor’s hotels.

It takes another year, but Jason gets down on one knee in early April at Gotham’s Antiquities Museum, where Tim’s parents things are kept, bearing a ring𑁋specially-curated black silver with two rubies embedded in it.

The wedding is supposed to be in July in San Francisco, two weeks after Tim’s birthday, but it’s crashed by Deathstroke and a coterie of other villainous evil-doers. The Bats go on a purge patrol and the wedding is hosted by Gotham City, in October.

It’s beautiful. Tim wears a light gray suit with a dark red tie and pale red dress shirt. His hair is perfectly styled away from his face in a loose man bun, white streak shining in the light. He’s wearing silver earring studs and black lip gloss with sharp red eyeliner.

Jason is dressed in a traditional black suit and bow tie, curls brushed away from his face and pinned back with white silver bobby pins. He’s wearing small silver hoop earrings and his nails are painted dark blue. His lips are dark red and he’s wearing dark eyeshadow. The ring Tim insisted on buying him is a white silver band with two spinels inlaid in it. It’s absolutely gorgeous. They don’t read vows until they’re alone, back in their hotel in the city, in lieu of a real honeymoon. Tim reads him vows he wrote during their Eurotrip, when he first realized he wanted to marry him, and Jason reads him what he wrote back when he was fifteen, in awe𑁋he still is𑁋of the beautiful amazing man he loves to pieces.

They fly to Brazil for a mission and end up staying for a belated honeymoon trip. They feed each other strawberries and share champagne kisses that imprint of their tongues. They also go to the movies and order slushies that turn their mouths purple instead of blue and red and when they get back to Gotham, they visit the Plaza with Cass again.

At family dinner night, Damian invites Donna and Garth, Steph invites Dinah, and Cass invites Kara Kent𑁋who did they even meet?𑁋and Selina just shows up randomly so everyone’s here with their significant other.

And at the end of each and every night, usually sometime near dawn, Jason, freshly nineteen and just starting Gotham U, studying Literature and Social Work, lies in bed curled into Tim, who’s just started a job developing tech for the GCPD.

[benevolentcalamity]

Painting Curses [Yuji Itadori x Cursed Spirit! Reader]

It’s been a while since I’ve seen the show so if I get Itadori’s character wrong I’m sorry-

No death here because I’m trying something new.

A Curse Womb recently produced a Special Grade in Setagaya, in the northernmost part of the area. No reports of deaths or disappearances but instead reports of odd sightings and talismans, figurines, anything of value missing. So either the report is inconsistent or this particular spirit is an odd duck.

Either way, Gojo said, straight up, “Hey, if this spirit isn’t killing anybody, maybe you can exorcise it on your own! Great practice, am I right?”

Well he wasn’t wrong.

Itadori’s search eventually brings him to a neighborhood chock full of little kids and grandparents alike, the parents themselves being away at work while the kids play. In his own curiosity he asks around about stuff going missing, but his search proves fruitless at every turn. Either he’s being told no one saw anything, or he’s being slapped with newspapers and accused himself. (Despite the clear evidence that he isn’t a thief.)

But one day, while out searching again, he catches the eye of an old grandma.

”Pardon me, dear,” She says sweetly, “I couldn’t help overhearing - were you looking for someone?”

”I was looking for a thief, basically.” He scratches the back of his head. “Buddhist or Shinto trinkets? Stuff you’d see in temples.”

To his surprise, she’s immediately visibly excited. “Oh, so that’s where they must have found them!” She notices the crease in his brow. “See this young dear I took in has been bringing those home. Suppose I should give them a talking to.”

”Could I meet her?” He’s inwardly hoping that he doesn’t meet the spirit, but if this proves to be what it is, it could be...

If such is the case, this poor woman is in grave danger.

”But of course! They always said they love visitors... But they don't get any.” She frowns. “My daughter claims that they doesn’t exist-“ Oh. “But I may have dicky eyes, but I know a child when I see one.”

Without any fuss aside from a brief introduction, she brings Itadori to her abode: a simple two-story home with stable air conditioning that just barely banishes the strong scent of paint. The items that were stolen - obvious from their contrast with the rest of the house - are spread around, some speckled with said paint. However what’s most alarming is that there’s traces of cursed energy lingering on them. Not to say they’ve been enchanted, but they’ve been handled.

”They're upstairs, in the studio,” She kindly says. “I’m sure you two will make good friends. Let me make you some tea as well.”

”I can’t stay long, ma’am,” He tries to say, but drowns out as she disappears into the kitchen, leaving the distant sound of cicadas and the strengthening cursed energy and smell of paint.

Swallowing, he recalls Gojo’s training and the exchange event, and relaxes as he ascends the stairs. Almost ominously, the first door to his right reeks of paint and oozes cursed energy, but still he rolls his shoulders back.

Will this spirit be easy to exorcise like Gojo said? Or will he need to retreat and think of something else? Either way... he has to do this, or that poor old lady - this neighborhood - won’t last long.

His grabs the doorknob and twists, pushing it open.

The room’s odor of paint is unbearable now, assailing his nostrils with help of oils and charcoal as well as the various paper and clay. Canvases, blank and unfinished alike, line the walls, making an aisle to the other side, where the biggest canvas he’s ever seen bears an... oddly serene scene.

Just walking closer, he makes out the Sakura trees in the winter snow, the mountains in the distance and the calm house between forming a calm, homey atmosphere. It’d be a paradise for someone with no desire to bother with the affairs of humans and sorcerers, preferring instead to be left to their own devices. In that place, they’d live in peace, quietly awaiting the end of the world.

Prepared for a fight, he glances upward. Seated atop a ladder is a person (you), dressed in a [f/c] shirt and a painter’s smock with some white pants and white tennis shoes. You’re biting your lip in your focus, sometimes dabbing your brush or other tools into the desired paint.

”Oh, a visitor, have we?” You ask, finishing a branch with blossoms before turning to smile and wave at him. After a moment, you recognize his attire. “Hm. A Jujutsu Sorcerer, yes?”

”Yea, that’s right.”

You show no hostility, exchanging the brush for a sponge to make the leaves. “If you’re here to exorcise me, I will not stop you, but let it be known that if it’s me you choose to damn, an innocent life will stain your hands until your dying day.”

”You’re a Curse, aren’t you? I’ve met my share - you guys aren’t innocent to me.”

”That wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard that.“ You nonchalantly start another tree. “True, I’m not innocent. As you say, I’m a Cursed Spirit - my very existence is a threat to humanity. But then tell me, human: I’ve taken no lives and I haven’t changed a soul.” You whip your head towards him. “I’ve long known the existence of the power of Idle Transfiguration, and yet I haven’t bothered to learn it. I’ve felt anger, hatred, and sadness since I was born, and yet I’ve found joy and love, in the purest of ways.”

A tear falls from your eye. “So then tell me, Jujutsu Sorcerer: What did I ever do, to make you hate me?”

Silence.

creak

”Hello, kids!” Grammy grins, coming in with some cups of tea. “Ah, [Name], splendid work as always!”

You grin, taking a cup when she offers it to you, floating down to the floor and putting your palette down. “Thank you, grandma.”

”Oh, young man, do forgive me - I don’t believe I asked your name.” Grandma passes him a cup. It’s sweet, fragrant white tea.

”Yuji Itadori,“ He smiles. “I was sent here to investigate that stolen stuff I talked about.”

”Oh, that was me.” You put your emotions aside. “I wanted inspiration, but they’re also oddly calming. I’ll put them back if you want, but they’ve helped me a lot.”

”Indeed.” Grandma sips her tea.

“So... how exactly did you two meet?” He’s too lost in the ordeal to pretend that you two are a kindly grandmother and a doting grandchild.

”Oh.“ Grandma laughs. “The tea house - long abandoned, mind you - was shrouded in thick fog. No one would go near it, much less call for help. Only when sorcerers came did it clear, and I was one of the few that dared go inside.”

She turns, softly touching your knee. Itadori tenses.

”And there they were, a frail thing, so sad and so frightened. I would not let the sorcerers exorcise them - they hadn’t done anything in their short life, after all.” Grandma’s voice implies great knowledge. “They were entranced by my jewelry, and when we traveled to the temples you’d have thought they were an ordinary child.“

”And so she let me stay here. Grandpa passed away a few years ago, so she’s letting me use his studio.” You nod. ”Nowadays I just make art.“

”Wait, so you...?” He’s so conflicted. “You're just the same as-“

”Mahito.” Your mood falls and your voice drips with venom. “God... why can’t I go any time without hearing that name?"

”You’ve met?”

”Grandma wasn’t here for it.“ You put the cup aside. “He asked me, “why do you resist your true nature? You’re not human, so why pretend to be one?” Just seeing him made me ill.” You glance up, noticing Itadori’s expression. “And you. You’ve met him too - or more than that even.”

...

”I thought as much. A loathsome one indeed.” You reach into your smock. “I see little good coming from this, but, your intentions are to save as many people you can from Mahito, yes?”

”I’m gonna make that bastard wish he was never born,“ He hisses.

You can’t help but laugh. “Good. What’s bravery, without a dash of recklessness? I’ve taken a liking to you, Itadori. But now what happens depends on what you say next.”

Your lip falls into a straight line. “... Are you going to exorcise me?”

Grandma’s face falls as well. “[Name]...”

”Grandma,” You say softly, “I don’t have long anyway. If not him, an even stronger sorcerer will come.“

”Are you... going to kill anyone?” It’s a stupid question from him, but he needs to know.

”Not if I don’t have to.” You’ve resisted your nature this long. It won’t be long until you can bury it at last. “If I must, then I will. For Grandma, I’ll do anything.”

He sighs. But eventually he brings himself to smile. “You’d better hope you don’t , then. I can respect someone trying to protect human life.” He extends a hand, and you take the one out of your smock, gripping his with it.

”But should I give in even once, you can kill me.” You let go of his hand, staring down at the ominous, rotten wine colored finger now resting in his palm. ”I don’t need it that badly. It’s done nothing but attract Curses anyway, so I think you’d better have it.”

...

”Whaaa? It’s still alive?”

Itadori leans back against the banister. “They haven’t hurt a fly and gave me Sukuna’s finger without a fight. That should mean something, right?”

”... Itadori, you remember what our mission is, right?”

”Yea.”

”Alright then. I trust your judgment. S’not a big deal if it doesn't hurt someone anyway. You’ve got it, right?”

”I got it. So now I just bring the finger back, right?“

”Yep! ... Also, I’ll hook us up with some food. I know this really great place-!”

...

”It’s done.”

You step back from the canvas. Now it’s a painting that will surely make a goodly home, should such magic even become possible one day. Maybe grandpa’s spirit resides within someday, or perhaps it passes through each canvas whenever you finish. Either way, the gratification of just finishing a painting or work of art is enough.

Shuffling your feet, you go and find another smaller canvas, already restless.

”... Yuji Itadori... May we meet again, sometime.”

[minimoxha]

Batfam Valentines Day Special

 The batfamily takes Valentine’s Day very...very seriously.

Characters: Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wyane, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wyane, Y/n L/n(Batmom), Alfred Pennyworty

Warning(s): None

1,579 Words

Not edited.

(A/N I know Valentine’s Day passed but I got this idea after it so...deal with it.)

All throughout Wayne manor, everyone was preparing for the day known as Valentine’s Day. They were moving so fast it made it seem like they were competing. Probably because...they were. Why? Because today was Valentine’s Day and they all wanted to give you the best day but every one of them wanted to do different things. So when Jason first joined the family, it became a competition to see which one could give you the best time with them.

You woke up to the sweet smell of French toast, a smile Turing on your face. You knew what day it was, possibly one of your favorite days other than Christmas or your birthday of course. Damian was the first to come in your room, Laing down and cuddling with you. No matter how people saw him on the outside, he was a soft and cuddly bear on the inside. “Good morning Mother. You’ll spend time with me first, right? I am your favorite so it’s only natural I go first.” Damien Gloated, making you emit a small giggle. “Dami, I told you that it was dickies turn this year.” You said making the young boy groan in response and get ready to lift up but relaxed his body again once you started to run your hands through his hair. “Who’s cooking for me Dami?” Damien answered your question by counting to five on his fingers. Once he got to five, Jason came through the door holding a tray of food, Bruce with a card and flowers, dick holding cups and apppe juice, (Apple juice is better than orange.), and Tim holding coffee cups.

All four of the men walked into the room, Joining you and Damian on the bed, not before saying good morning to you. “Flowers? For me?” You teased, smelling the roses. “They were from me” Bruce admitted, a smirk crossing his face making Jason roll his eyes. “So who gets you first, ma?”  Jason asked. “Hm...Dickie.” You smiled at your oldest, making him mirror his expression and everyone else groan. It was sweet really, instead of spending time with their friends or significant other they wanted to give the day to you. All of you had busy schedules so these were one of the days they could spend a lot of fun time with their mommy. After everyone finished eating, dick gave you an outfit and waited outside your door for you to change. “So you know that musical you wanted to see? Well I Got tickets, the best seats!” He cheered. You squeezed from inside the room, quickly opening your door. “My outfit looks great on you.” He smiled. You were wearing High waisted black pants and a gray hoodie with no hood that was a little too big for you. 

Dick was right, they were amazing seats. The both of you were in Love with the musical and tried to keep yourselves from singing but failed, earn dirty looks from the people around you. (I didn’t make more because idk but if you want short tories on how the details went during everyones time with Y/n tell me))After you left the theater, the both of you got slushies and cinnamon rolls (Even though it was 11Am, your dentist is pissed rn) and then he returned you home and went to his brothers ti gloat and tell him how the defenitly won and had the best time with you. Next was Jason, right when you walked in he got you and took you back out. “What do you have planned fir me today, JayJay?” You asked following him after he grabbed a bag onto his motorcycle . “You can choose between a Monster Truck Rally and Paint balling Ma.” He said. “Paint-balling” Nodding, he drove off to a paint ball arena with you holding onto his back. He arrived at the place and signed in. The both of you were taken into the back where you got a run down and gear. “Dickies going to be pissed that his outfit is covered in paint.” You giggled, putting on your gear along with Jason and listening to the rules. You didn’t follow them though. The both of you DEMOLISHED every kid, adult, and teen, only getting a few paintballs on yourself. Then it came down to you and Jason. He stalked around you, trying to be be intimidating but failing with a smile. “Theres only room for one paintballer in this town” He said, faking a country accent.  

“Well then, It’ll have to be me!” You yelled, shooting three at him then ducking under a rock. He successfully dodged your attacks making the game go on for what felt like forever for the bystanders but just a couple minutes for you. It seemed like it was going to go on forever until Jason tripped on a rock and fell, giving you the chance to shoot him right in his butt. “Suck it, Jay!” You yelled, doing your victory dance in front of him. Jason smiled, he loved seeing you in this mood. With work, and watching from the batcomptr, you were either on edge or stressed out of your mind, And once you got competitive, you stayed competitive until you won. Constantly, challenging your family to games. “Ill beat you next Time, Ma’” Jason laughed, fist bumping you and standing up to sling his arm around your shoulder and walk to the changing rooms with you. (Not the same one) “Guess what we got the Replacement and Demon Spawn to do for ya.” “Hm I Don't know Jay, What.” 

“I got them to share your time and have a picnic with you.” You sighed then answered, “Jay, I’ll be surprised if there still is a picnic by the time we get there.” Jason laughed at your Joke, getting the both of you on his bike and driving to a beautiful forest. The sun was cutting through the trees who's leaves were falling off. There was an opening, where Damian had lanterns all around while the picnic blanket was in the middle of a flower bed. You got off of Jasons bike and saw through the trees, Damian and Tim arguing, on the verge of turning it into a full blown fist fight. Before things escalated, you stepped in and let Jason leave the three of you alone. “Boys, please don't fight today” With one last glare, they settled down. Damian opened the light brown basket and took your favorite dishes out. “We helped Alfred make all of your favorites, Mother. I hope you enjoy them” Tim opened the Saran Wrap. “Yeah Mom, I hope you like it.” Damian put a couple heart-shaped sandwiches on your plate and poured the drinks while Tim showed you this cool coding project he had been walking on. “So mother, isn’t this the best out of both of the trips they took you on?” Damian asked, smiling slightly after biting into a cupcake and clearly enjoying it.  “I had an Amazing Day with all of you, I won't pick favorites.” You smiled and ruffled both of the boys’ hair. They were amazing children no matter they're faults. The rest of the picnic was amazing, the both of you eating until you couldn’t eat anymore and Joking around. For the first time in a while, you saw a Huge smile on both of the boys’ face. After, Tim called Alfred and he picked the both of you and took you to get your hair done, nails done and a nice dress that they (surprisingly) agreed on. They showed up at the manor and rushed Batmom to the backyard where bruce was standing in a candlelit circle. Inside it , was a couple speakers and Bruce right in the middle. His hair was slicked back and he was wearing a nice suit that matched your dress. He raised his hand out toward you and you excitedly took it.

“May I have this dance?” He smiled, pulling you into his chest. His cologne, being all that you could smell. “you may” The both of you danced like nobody was watching, because nobody was. It wasn’t like the dances you would have at formal events, where you had to dance like professionals. No, it was your own little dance party with only the two of you. You didn’t have to worry about people watching or taking pictures. After about 5 songs, the dancing stopped and Bruce slid a ring on your finger. It was a crown with the tips and middles having diamonds inside of them. “Bruce...this is beautiful” you smiled as you looked at it. Bruce snuck his hands around your waist and put his chin on top of your head. Him being the tall man that he was, he had no problems with hugging or cuddling with you while standing. “Let’s be honest My love, I gave you the best day , yes?” He smirked. Bruce was always very cocky but you found yourself more attracted to him after each word he uttered to you. “You’ll never know, Dear” You teased making him playfully sigh. “I’m the worlds greatest detective, I already know.”

“God, I love all of you so Much” Like every year, Each one of your boys always found a way to surprise you or just make your life better. They meant the world to you and if you could keep life like this you would. This was perfect. Absolute perfection

[thevaudevilledemon]

Disney-nerd needs some help!

Okay... so, my need to know more and more obscure Disney facts has lead me down the rabbit hole of a character named “Dickie Duck”, a semi-known Comics character by Romano Scarpa and mostly popular in Brazil. Her only known animated appearance, sadly not DuckTales 2017 but I guess they had to draw the line somewhere, was this Italian show called “Topolino Show” or... “Pronto... Topolino?” I think that’s a different show, but that is all that comes up when I Google search for “Topolino Show”.

From all I can gather, this is the opening of the show, with an interview with Romano Scarpa. I can’t speak Italian so I’m pretty lost either way.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ljE_sWyFzN4

Is there anyone that can tell me about this show? Please, Reblog and spread this around, I need to know!

And in case you’re curious, that is Dickie Duck.

[internalsealpanic]

The Dog and Duck

summary: Dick Grayson is a terrible flirt (in more ways than one).

a/n: Special thanks to @jd-loves-everyone, @littleredwing89, @glorified-red, and @multifandomgirl-us for proofreading! This fic is based on a headcanon by @pricetagofficial (I think) that Dick Grayson is actually terrible at flirting which is just the cutest thing.

warnings: Potential cringe and terrible flirting advice

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

The sound of voices and clinking of glasses mingle around you like a bustling symphony: discordant, rhythmic, clashing but endlessly vibrant. The scent of alcohol hung thick in the air, enough to taste and intoxicate. The amount of people in such a small space made something under your skin hum, whether it was simply an irritable Yasiri or the buzzing energy stored in your bones or maybe even a genuine discomfort, you weren’t entirely sure.

You sip lightly at the scotch in your glass, letting it burn through your throat, but it wasn’t enough to make the itch in it go away completely. 

 You watch Dick’s eyes intently as they slide past you, just over your shoulder. His sentences coalesce clumsily, syllables squishing and clipping at odd ends as his plush bottom lip catches between his teeth. His eyes are glossy with interest even in the dim lights of the pub. His pupils are blown and dark. You fight everything in you to stamp down the urge to huff or roll your eyes. Not that he would have noticed. You’re pretty sure you could stab someone in the eye and Dick wouldn’t even blink, not when he is so enraptured by whatever the hell is behind you. You feel a gross sticky sort of jealousy pool in the pit of your stomach.  You swallow it down not really knowing of any other way to deal with it. 

 You arch a brow, the tips of your nails tapping loudly against the lacquered wood of the table as Dick once again stumbles absentmindedly over his story about Wally West being living proof of the need for warning labels (for people). You click your teeth irritably while Yasiri’s tail rattles against your collarbone before you take another sip, eyes following his only for them to land on a vivacious redhead at the bar. The irritation bubbling in your veins dwindles into mild amusement. Your best friend is a hilariously predictable moron. 

 “She is either a suspect or you’re being a creep.” You tease, the cruel curve of your lips barely obscured by the glass pressed against them. The mockery in your eyes shining amber like the drink in your glass. Dick’s cheeks flush as the playful lilt in your voice lances through the fog in his mind. He looks at you, dopey and red-cheeked as if he didn’t know what you were talking about. You roll your eyes, nostrils flaring letting out a breath caught between a huff and a laugh. “Stalker.” You hiss, trying to smother the warmth in your voice with sheer, unadulterated pettiness. 

 Dick levels you a look, cutting and vicious if he wasn’t flushed. “Am not.” He whines halfheartedly, eyes flicking once again to the woman at the bar. Some part of you is sure you really ought to be mad at him. After all, you haven’t seen each other for almost half a year. This is thanks in part to work and in part to work getting royally fucked up. Thankfully, not because of Gotham’s resident furry and his new little bird boy. Really, you should be furious at being sidelined considering this outing was his idea but here you were smirking into your malt whiskey, tickled. 

 “Then stop staring.” You challenge, unfolding and relaxing into the moldy cushioning of the bar. Dick glares at you, the pout on his lips obscured by his hand as he rests his chin on his palm but you know it’s there. You’ve memorized the plains of his face and how they shaped themselves, a product of spending far too much time staring at the details.  Hey, if he was gonna third wheel you the least you could do was tease him about it. “Or do you want me to wingman for you~”

 “HELL NO”

 You can’t stop the cackle that spills from your lips. “Why not?!”

 “I’m not letting you cockblock me. AGAIN.”

 “That was one tiiime, Joystick.”

 “Once was enough!" 

 "’Fiiiine but to be fair,  you still ended up dating her, didn’t you?” You defended weakly, running your fingers through your hair, jostling the already wind whipped strands. Dick was red-faced. The liquor was definitely working through his system. The color in his cheeks was lively and cute, making him look boyish despite how much he’d grown. You had, in fact, cockblocked him due to an extreme bout of jealousy, childishness, and hormones. Back then you hadn’t yet learned the art of burying your feelings 6 feet under.

 “Fine, fine, fine. Just shoot your shot, Dickie bird.” This does not appease him. He, in fact, crosses his arms over his chest. You set your glass down and raise your brow. “If you fail, I’ll buy you a round.” You add placatingly. Dick’s eyes slide over your shoulder, the lump in his throat bobbing.“Make that two.” 

 Your eyes shine, cat-like the dim lighting of the lamp overhead. You smile at him all cocksure, placing your chin on your intertwined fingers.“Deal.”

 Dick gives you a withering look as he pushes off the table. You take a sip of your daiquiri as he moves through the crowd, gracefully slicing through the sea of bodies. No, maybe they were parting just for him. Dick does have that air about him. A pull that made it so painfully obvious that he was so much more. Dick also had this way of talking that made you unsure of whether you’re being flirted with or if it’s just the way he talks to people. Either way, he had this way of making you feel special and you had no doubt he would sweep this one off her feet.  

 The redhead at the bar tipped her head finally sensing his gaze on her and as per your expectation, she seemed to reciprocate the interest. Not that you can blame her. Dick was a 10 on his worst day. Now that you thought about it, you’ve never actually seen Dick flirt. You’ve seen him banter but flirt? You can’t seem to think of an instance of it. This’ll be fun. 

 You watch him closely and your brows climb higher than you thought they could. Something was off, something very un-Dick-like. There’s an unsteadiness in his step that makes your stomach sink. Dick wouldn’t. Even Dick wasn’t stupid enough to blow his shot just to get a few shots, would he?

 And then it happened.

 “Did it hurt when you hit your face?” Dick asks, winking stiffly. A ripple of pain lances through you followed by an unbearable wave of second-hand embarrassment. “Excuse me?!” Her face morphs into something terrifying before Dick’s brain can catch up. You watch in mute horror as Dick’s face slowly matches the sinking feeling in your gut as embarrassment suffused his entire body. 

 “Wait, shit. I- I meant- Shit. I didn’t mean to say you look like you banged your face. I mean, of course, you don’t-” You watch in fascination as Dick stumbles through apology after apology after apology. Until finally, he gives up. “Actually, I’ll just leave.” Dick shambles gracelessly back to your table while your brain tries to process what just happened. 

 You wheeze against the table, pounding your fist against the table. “Dickie, yanno you did have a shot before you opened your mouth, right?” Your hand is clamped over your mouth trying to stop the shrill cackle bubbling in your throat. 

 “Y/n...” 

 “Jeez, Dicktopus, was gin really worth getting blue balled?”

 “You better have your money,” he sneers, cutting you a scathing look as he slides into the booth. 

 “I-” The smug look on your face vanishes when you reach into your wallet. “If I apologize for you, will you cut me some slack?” you try, brandishing your nearly empty wallet. 

 “I’ll buy you a shot if she doesn’t tell you to fuck off.”

 “Hmm, if I get her number for you, will you get me two?”

 “Sure, why not?” Dick whines petulantly. His head sinks into his arms desperately trying very hard  to implode. You cough into your sleeve trying not to laugh and hope he doesn’t notice. A blush creeps up the tanned skin of his neck. He tries to hide it by placing his hand on his neck but the color’s already made its way to his ears. Feeling a little bad for him, you squeeze Dick’s shoulder once, then twice, then twice once more. You swing your legs dramatically out of the booth. You hear Dick groan and you chuckle. 

 You flick your eyes to him one last time before moving forward. You roll your shoulders, realigning your form into something more suave and less goofy. The rhythm of your feet goes from a clumsy shuffle to a confident saunter. The woman looks at you skeptically, her lashes fluttering mockingly. You move, easy and casual. With a playful grin, you apologize and make up some bullshit excuse about Dick being extremely shy. She eases. You continue on your little sales pitch as if it was the most natural thing in the world.  You draw a laugh out of her. You can hear her heart pick up. She smiles at you telling you that you and your shy friend are fine. You chuckle and promise to tell your long-suffering friend that, tilting your chin towards Dick who is still trying to melt into the table. She scribbles her number onto a napkin and hands it to you with a flirtatious wink. You smile lopsided, cute and sheepish, as you wave her goodbye.

 Dick stares at you with slack-jawed awe. This time you feel genuinely bashful but you shrug it away with a sharklike grin spreading across your face.

“Pay up, pretty bird,” you say slamming the number on the table, teeth gleaming in the low light of the room. The petty satisfaction oozing off of you is almost palpable. Dick looks up at you, his pretty mouth twisting.  “What are you? Seven?”

 “If by seven you mean lucky, then yeah,” you sneer, nudging your empty shot glass against Dick’s shoulder. “Pay up, Dickenson~” you sing. Dick’s face twists even more and he waves you off, pushing off the table.

 “Let’s just go,” Dick bites out, cheeks burning. You bite your lips trying to resist the urge to tease him more but it’s hard. Not when he’s all pouty and cute.  

 “I mean you did just wine and dine me,” you laugh musically. You promised yourself you would stop teasing him but you never said you would stop making jokes. There’s a complicated expression on Dick’s face before it shifts back to exasperation. 

 “You. Are. Awful.”

 You shake your head not even denying it as you follow him out of the old Dog and Duck into the fresh Bludhaven air. 

“How are you good at this?” Dick whines into one of your throw pillows. The poorly counterfeit superman one he had gotten you a few years ago from a trip to the Philippines. He's pouting at you like a kid. To be fair, you did laugh at him in the club (and the whole way back to your safehouse which was not a short walk).

 You chuckle, tapping a cool can of beer against his forehead.“Sadly some of us need to work at being charming, Dimples McGee.” He accepts the can, scowling at you. Your grin doesn’t waver which only serves to deepen his scowl. It was an irritating feedback loop. Well, irritating for Dick. You’re having the time of your life. You settle on the other side of the couch rolling your beer can in your hand. “ Plus, you’ve seen pops talk right? The man sweet talks like his life depends on it.” 

 “Right, I’ll remember to ask him for flirting advice next time he tries to kill me,” Dick says, rolling his eyes at you. You perk up at the awful idea before you snicker and press a hand to your lips in a barely held back smile. It’s Dick’s turn to perk up. His blue eyes shine with interest at your expression like he’s trying to capture it. You turn to him with a serious expression. “Please, please ask him that. I will pay you to record his reaction. Please. Please. Dickle, please,” you beg, moving on your knees to his side, your hands clasped in prayer.  Dick shifts sticking his tongue out at you childishly. 

 “Noooooo!”

 “Pleeeeeeaaaaaseee”

 “No!”

 With an ‘oof’, you plop yourself between Dick’s legs, your chest against his. You stare up at him with eyes mimicking the wide-eyed innocent look he uses on you when he asks for a favor. Dick gives you a sorry look asking you to please drop it. You don’t. You double down trying to look as cute as possible. 

 Dick looks down at you, glaring then grimacing then smiling. “Ok, fine,” he huffs stiffly, wrapping his arms around you. You snuggle up against him, smug in your victory.  Your nose brushes against Dick’s pulse which makes his breath hitch. He squirms under you but you just find yourself laughing. “You. Are. Evil. ”

 “I promise to make your Granny’s goulash,” you say in a halfhearted attempt to appease him. Dick’s face softens  “Now, that’s just bribery.”

 “You’re gonna be a cop here in Bludhaven. You gotta learn how to take bribes.”

 His brows crease as you shake your head. Dick huffs, planting his chin against the crown of your head before pressing his lips to your hair. You feel one of his arms pulling you closer, his hand threading through the tangle of your hair. You smile against his skin, breath tickling him which just makes him squirm. He’s breathless under your touch and you don’t even know it. You two sit basking in the close proximity and the soft intimacy you two shared. Your limbs tangle and twine around each other carelessly. 

 Out of context, you two could have been lovers. 

 You sigh, feeling a bit drowsy from the ‘tussle’. You blink, mind reaching for something. “Wait…. Brucie flirts like his life depends on it too! What’s your excuse?” you grin, jabbing a finger into his chest. Dick scowls at you, clearly flustered again. He stammers, babbling out answers. “Hey, I- I could probably do it...” Dick mutters, finally finding a semblance of coherence. 

  “After that performance?” You challenge, sitting up, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. A sharp laugh spills from your lips. It’s louder than you intended, your entire chest moving along with every exhalation of air. 

 Dick looks at you like a kicked puppy which has you roaring with laughter. “You don’t have to laugh that hard”

 “Admit it, Grayson, you are an actual bonafide dork”

 “I’ll bonafide you,” he growls and you’re bent into the couch cushions, clutching your stomach. Dick looks like your house plant like he’s about to disintegrate. You sit up again and cross your legs. Your lungs expand as you draw in another calming breath before you give him a softer, lopsided smile, placing a hand on his knee and shaking him gently. “Come on, practice on me I’m probably one of the few people you don’t have a stick up your ass around.” Dick, not getting up, puts his hands in his face looking positively mortified by the idea. You make a little affronted noise in the back of your throat and thanks to whatever god is up there that you don’t seem to know how much he doesn’t wanna fuck up flirting with you.   

 “I don’t know how to!” The cry is muffled but the mortification still bleeds through. The admission startles something out of you. “Holy shit, Nightwing can’t flirt his way out of a paper bag. Oh my god, this is great!” you cackle, falling into the cushions. 

 “I’m trying damn it!”

 “Ok. Ok. Ok.” You breathe. You’re still clutching your still aching stomach. You wish you recorded that confession.  “Ok. Phew. Ok, I need a minute,” you say folding over into the cushions again, another bubble of laughter rising in your throat. This is the best ab workout you’ve had in months. 

 “Take your time,” Dick deadpans, rolling his eyes, color rising in his tanned cheeks. 

 “Ooook, I think I’m good. First, we need to work on your wink.”

 “The hell is wrong with my wink?” A wry smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You make vague hand gestures, hoping somehow you could physically pluck the correct words from the air.  “Just try winking, Ric.” Dick raises his brow but gives in. He winks at you in his usual devilishly charming way. You shake your head. “Wink at me like you’re trying to get my number.”

He stiffens and gives you the most artificial wink you’ve seen outside of a bad 50s flick. You drag your hand over your face. “How come you can wink so naturally while fighting and look like you work at in car sales when you flirt”

 Dick tries again. He ends up closing both his eyes and scrunching his nose- looking like a disgruntled puppy. You squeal and Dick’s eyes fly open. Your mouth works to flatten itself but your mind is still picturing the expression. “What?” he growls. You wave him off. “Sorry. Sorry. Just- just try again. Please.” 

 Dick gives you another stiff wink and you’re surprised to find yourself cringing at your best friend for the first time in your life. You drag your hand over your face. “You look like you’re trying to ask me to prom.”

 “You’ve never even been to a prom!”

 “Who do you think scares off Joey’s dates? Pops?” you snort picking up your beer can and taking a sip.  “Did you miss the absentee father part?”

 You both silently agree to move on. 

 “How the flying fuck did you date both Babs and Kory with your atrocious flirting skills?”

 “I have good pick up lines.”

 “Uh, sure, buddy.”

 “It worked on both of them!”

 “Well, hit me.”

 “Call me Fred Flintstone,”  you wait patiently, “cause I’ll make your bedrock.” Another artificial wink. 

 You blink at him, mind still trying to catch up. “Dick you are the epitome of ‘you’re lucky you’re cute’,” you groan, palm flat against your forehead. 

 “I’m not cute! I’m handsome!” Dick protests, mouth twisting into a pout. A shrill squeal is dying in the back of your throat as you draw a breath. You pinch his cheeks, “you pouting just furthers my point.”

 “Are you just trying to destroy my confidence?” Dick whines, lightly shoving you away. 

 “Oh no, the girl back at the club did that. I am just dancing on your grave.”

 “Give me another wink.”

 Dick fails at winking, again. You cringe openly at him and he scowls at you halfheartedly, more defeated than angry. Dick’s used to being good at things, you supposed. You tap your finger against your chin, trying to unspool a thought and rethread it into words. “Ok, figured out one of your problems.”

“Aside from my terminal dorkiness?”

 “You’re too nervous-”

 “You would be too,” Dick cuts in. 

You snicker, teeth bared in a mocking grin. ”Did you miss the part where I got her number?” Dick refuses to answer. You sigh but you can’t keep the smile off your face. “Let’s start with body language because for a guy with so much muscle control you are shit at this.”

 “You’re just gonna keep being mean,” he moans. 

 “I’ll stop being mean when you sweep me off my feet,” you jab. 

 “Ok, fine, maestro. What do you need me to do?”

  “You’ve got to lean into me and smile coyly,” you say vaguely.  Dick leans in close, your noses touching, his lips ghosting over yours. You can feel his breath hot against your lips. It sends bolts of electricity careening through your nerves. Your brain takes its sweet time catching up, giving your body ample time to soak up the proximity of the almost kiss. You gasp then reign yourself in. “Dickle, that’s- that’s a teensy bit too close,” you laugh awkwardly, hands playfully shoving at his chest. 

 Dick shakes out of his haze. “You said to lean in!” he says leaning into your space again. “Yeah, I did but I never said lean in close enough to eat my face. I can smell the gin in your breath,” you snort airly, pushing at his chest again. 

 Dick sits back, embarrassment creeping into his features. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth as if he’s thinking carefully about his next few words. “I’m just-” Dick puts his head in his hands. “Like you said, I’m too nervous.” 

 You raise a brow. The sound that comes out of you is too sharp and disbelieving to be a laugh. “Pfffft, it’s just me, you dork.”

 That’s the problem, Dick thinks. It’s you. The exasperation bleeds into his features. Dick fidgets, shifting and shaking in his seat like a wet chihuahua. Don’t you know how much he wants to get this right for you?. 

 “Stop twitching! You look like you’re having a seizure.”

 “I’m nervous!!” he says. “Don’t you ever get nervous about a person you like?”

 You side eye him. “I do,” you admit, rubbing your thumb over your tattoo out of habit. Dick’s eyes widen, then narrow. You see the word ‘who’ forming on his lips but his train of thought is cut off by the sound of Yasiri’s tail rattling against your skin as she emerges. Your poor danger noodle is likely frustrated with the lack of progress. You quietly thank her by scratching her chin.  “Whatever made this world just decided that you had to have at least one very obvious flaw,” you say, insincerely patting him on the back.

 “You're enjoying this.”

 “Way more than you think,” you say grinning at him. Dick simply grimaces at you. “You’re not helping me.”

 “Were you really expecting me to help?” You shrug. “Why would I do that?”

 “I’d help you!”

 You level him with a flat look. “No, you wouldn’t. You’d laugh just as hard as I did.” Dick opens his mouth then closes it. He opens it again. You raise your brow at him. “ I- ok yeah. No, I would laugh harder,” he says, giving you a cheeky, lopsided smile. Vindication and something warmer tug your features into a smile.

 “Just… relax and be yourself,” you mock sagely. Dick rests his head on yours. “ I hate you,” he groans, pressing his shoulder into yours. 

  “You’re just thinking about it too much,” you say, pressing back, “just do what’s natural. The more you over try the funnier it is.”

 “Goes back to my problem of being nervous,” he huffs into your hair. You boop his nose. “Goes back to my point about you overthinking things.”

 “I’m not!”

 “Fine.”

 “Fine?”

 “Fine,” you say, reaching back and presenting your danger noodle in your palm, "practice on Yazzy.”

 “You’re not serious?”

 You hold up the clearly unamused snake eye level with Dick. “Go on." Dick gives you a withering look. He exasperates, then looks deep into Yasiri’s black eyes. He opens his mouth and Yasiri flicks her tongue at him. The next few things happen in quick succession. Dick’s body relaxes. His face breaks into a smile that makes your heart flutter. He lets out a bubble of laughter that has you jumping and reaching for your own breath. "I can't!" he gasps. You both dissolve into laughter. 

 “Suit yourself - but prepare to have blue balls," you grin, punching his shoulder, "at least, they'll match your new suit!" you cackle. Dick flushes red.“I - I - you are legally the worst and most unhelpful human being in modern history!”

 Your cackle rises higher even as Dick shoves a pillow in your face. You push it away and wipe the tears away from your eyes. “Just practice on me, go on,” you say, reaching out, “once more." He frowns at you. "Please?”

 Dick closes his eyes. His movements become leisurely the way you've seen him when he's about to do a routine on the trapeze. “Do you have a map?” he says, pushing a strand of hair out of your eyes. The oxygen in your lungs evaporates. Heat spreads from the line of skin Dick’s finger grazed to the rest of your body. You swallow trying not to collapse under the weight of his gaze. You realize he's expecting an answer. "No, why?” you stammer out stupidly. 

  “Because I keep getting lost in your eyes,” he says, eyes glittering in the dim lights of your apartment. Some part of your brain short circuits, fizzing out in sparks and fire, then the rest of your brain follows. The entire structure goes out in a puff of smoke. You're completely frozen. Dick watches you with a furrowed brow, bottom lip caught between your teeth. Apprehension rolls off of him in waves and you can feel your lungs work again. "Exactly! Exactly that!" You squeal in delight. Dick smiles relieved. "I knew you could do it, you magnificent dork. I could kiss you right now!" you say squishing his cheeks and pressing your forehead against his. Dick’s breath catches. There's a hopeful look in his eyes. "Would you?" 

 Something clogs your throat as you pull away. You're pretty sure it's your heart. You force the nervous laughter in your throat into something else. "Need practice with that too, Dickens?" 

 "Dunno," he hedges, eyes holding yours, "you tell me." His hand cups the side of your face. You ease into his touch like a marshmallow dissolving into hot cocoa. "Can I?" he whispers, thumb brushing against your bottom lip. He's being careful with you you realize. Your eyes flutter closed. You can feel your nerves disentangling. They cross and recross so that you're fully aware of your lips. The gap between the two of you is small but it feels so impossibly big. Anticipation, anxiety, and excitement all thicken the spaces between you. You want him. You want this. Is it so wrong? 

 "Yes."

Tag list:  @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell   @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

[carlando]

Stupid But Funny Things McLaren Team Personnel Have Done Before

⌘ The entire pitcrew getting black-out drunk in Monaco in 2019. This included the carrying of many men from the street to their respective hotel rooms.

⌘ Lando jumping over the check-in turnstyles at the track, with no cares.

⌘ Whatever Frazer and Dicky have going on. If you know, you know.

⌘ Just Salty avoiding Henrik at all costs because he doesn’t want to be on camera but gets catched by Charlie, either way.

⌘ Helen leaving. No, this one is just sad. I’m still sort of trying to cope with this one.

⌘ HARRY WEARING THE PUDSEY BEAR EARS

⌘ Andreas being the sassiest, biggest gossip in the paddock. I love him so much.

⌘ Carlos and the rubber duck. The tub of water. Just.

⌘ Lee just bursting out into song when he’s putting away the partitions for the garage.

⌘ WILL GOING ABSOLUTELY MAD BECAUSE LANDO MIXED THE BRITISH AND BELGIAN FLAG ON HIS HELMET ONCE

⌘ Charlotte literally pulling Lando to his next thing on schedule, like full on making him walk. So good.

⌘ Daniel is the sanest of them all, which I pray for him and hope he can deal with their antics.