#see i write sometimes

[chloesimaginationthings]

What comic is the bottom left image of springtrap from? (On the post where you say why you draw him blocky)

It’s from this comic!! A very normal father son reunion

Og post here

[yayll]

~ a little something about waking up next to Dazai, and he's unbearable as always ~

"I might just eat you alive..." He mumbles to himself, barely audible. His eyes are half-lidded, and he's barely blinked.

He's been watching you sleep next to him curled up like a kitten for the past hour, way past the time you usually wake up. He's the oversleeper, not you, and it makes him hyper aware of your bodily functions and if they're okay. He hasn't eaten properly in days, but you don't need to know that. He's rabid, and he knows he's being a total freak right now, but who will worry for you if not for him? He must rise up to be the voice of reason, the watchful eye that keeps you on track even if he can barely keep himself alive! He wishes you'd stay forever, where he could avoid his problems and take care of your every single need. He should be everything you need... He hopes. Then you'd never leave, and he would make sure to eat more, just for you. How perfect... selfish.

God, he just wants to crawl inside of you and make you his home, it's almost pathetic. You'd find him vile for the things he would do for you and your happiness, despite you already being so accepting of his dark past... You're simply heaven sent. He takes a deep breath, and lightly runs his knuckles down your jawline, as if carving them out of the precious material that you're made of. You begin to stir, and his pupils dilate instantly as he pulls back with anticipation.

"Mmm... Osamu..."

You murmur sleepily as your chest rises up and down ever so slowly. He's freaking out. It's bad for his health to hear the way you say his name as if it were a healing oath, a spell that only works on him.

"Wakey wakey~"

Dazai's propping himself up on one elbow, a calculating smile plastered on his lips as if he were in on something you weren't. You pop open one eye, and groan softly.

"You're up... early"

"Yes!"

"Why..." You yawn like the silly little thing you are. He gasps in mock offense, clutching his chest.

"Can't a fortunate guy like ME just be happy that we both live to see another beautiful day?!"

He winks, and boops the tip of your nose, this gets a muffled snort out of you that causes you to bury your face into the pillow. He's addicted to the rush of causing any joy in your life, it's disgusting. When you don't lift your face back up, he scrunches up his face, and reaches out to stroke a strand of your silky hair, but his intrusive thoughts win and he tugs on it as payback for possibly falling asleep again. He needs your attention, and you're sleeping? Insanity. You swat at him, blindly smacking his arm away.

Oh, how he loves that you're the only person who truly sees him past his myriad of theatrics.

"Oh my... a slap from you feels wonderful!"

He rubs his arm, and grabs the hand that swatted him, bringing it up to kiss the pulse point on your wrist. Feather like kisses, almost undetectable... until you lift your face up from the pillow, finally.

He gazes at you as he rubs his face onto your hand like a cat greeting its owner, purring as if he were starved for affection. For a moment, his gaze becomes more serious, detached, as if he were thrown back into a distant memory. He can't describe the feeling, but the way your hand feels against his cheek is a warmth he hasn't felt in ages. His eyes sting, and he blinks the wetness away before you can notice as he hears your angelic voice again. He's back to his usual self.

"Osamu... You're being annoying"

"You think I'm just annoying?~"

His voice comes out in a tender whisper, his mouth curled up into a mischievous grin. He's insufferable. He could be anything for you if you wanted it. Especially annoying! He almost drools when you roll your eyes affectionately at him, the coldness in his heart disappears as he leans in just a little, invading your personal space as always, eager to hear your reply.

"Amongst other things, yes..."

You flash him a sweet little smile, and it mends all that is wrong in the world. The pink in your cheeks is starting to turn red, and it sends him to the moon. He hums, slowly nuzzling himself into the crook of your neck, it's his turn to curl up. You run your fingers through his messy hair that tickles you, feeling the warmth of Dazai's breaths against the back of your ear.

"Hmm, do I look like a pillow to you?"

He can hear the smile in your murmur, and he pulls back from your neck briefly, peering at you through his messy bangs, those intense hazelnut eyes demanding your attention, and his voice drips with an aching devotion that oozes like honey. he moves his lips to your ear, and whispers.

".. You look like an angel to me."

He watches you self destruct at his painfully smooth delivery of a compliment, and secretly rewards himself for once again giving you another reason to never leave. He's got it all!

Romance, self deprecating humor, an inability to properly process his emotions and grief, but more importantly, an undying commitment to stay alive against all odds so that he may see another day of you in his arms... or you helping him change his bandages... or-

He's cut short by you grabbing the sides of his face and pulling him into the most sinfully delicious kiss known to man, and he could swear that despite all his efforts, this might be what ACTUALLY kills him.

[fictionalsownme]

smash???????? who said that?????????

engineer doesn't get enough love on this blog considering how much I cannot express my devotion to him, so I’m working to fix that :) this is similar to what I did for damien but it took foreverr!! iswm lighting is so so pretty which makes it impossible to get right ;;u;; the saturation is really high and there's multiple light sources so in terms of rendering it, its like it was personally designed to leave me dead on the floor :))))) either way,, I'm happy with how it turned out!! he’s very prettie :))

also bonus:

[sotiriabellou]

we all have that one mutual we're strangely similar to

[starmocha]

Boys don’t like sharing their toys, but with me as their fucktoy, they will learn that sharing is caring and teamwork (Zayne, Caleb, and Sylus) makes the dream work (me cumming), or you know what, fuck that shit, and they can compete to see who can get me to cum first, or they can be mean and gang up on me and overstimulate the fuck out of me, like Zayne, why do you have me on your lap, my back to your chest and your cock pressed against my ass, and wait, Caleb, your mouth—ah, don’t suck my nipple so hard—oh, god, Sylus, this is embarrassing, don’t spread my legs like that—Zayne, don’t help him!—wait, ah, Sylus, your mouth feels so good, oh, god, this is all too much, feeling their mouths, hearing such lewd noises, and oh the way Zayne’s cock is teasingly pressed so close while his hand toys with my other nipple and his lips are on my neck leaving little love bites, and fuck, who can think straight when you have three gorgeous men all wanting to see you come undone because of them, and shit, this is absolute madness, especially when you have a hand fetish and voice kink, and oh god, these men have all of the things you like locked down, because Jesus fucking Christ, who just called me their “pretty little slut,” because please say it again, I am absolutely your little whore, you like that, don’t you? You like seeing how wet I can get, like the way I moan from every stroke of Sylus’ tongue, the way Caleb suckles and teases my nipple, and Zayne’s warm mouth marking up my neck, and fuck, they know I am close, they can hear my breathing getting shorter, the way I am whining so pathetically and my hands are grabbing at anything to stay grounded, and fuck, I can’t help but thrust my hips forward, wanting more of Sylus’ expert ministrations, and—mmph!—Caleb’s lips are just so soft against mine, but oh?—Zayne, are you jealous? No? Ah, of course not, we’re sharing, of course, and you just wanted your turn as well, and holy shit, why is it so fucking hot cumming as three men watch you with the most insufferable-looking smirks ever, because they all know this is just the beginning after all, and with three holes and three men, we’re not going to stop with just this little foreplay, but they’re not that mean. Zayne is the first with the aftercare while Sylus sneaks away to prepare a light snack, because we’re all going to need our energy for a long and very intense night, since these are, after all, three young and healthy, virile men, and how sweet, I am absolutely a very generous person who likes taking care of others, so we won’t stop until all three men are satisfied and their cum are inside me where they belong, and when morning comes, of course, it will be Colonel Caleb up first to prepare breakfast, and after being such a good slut for them, I am getting doted on by three powerful men who are absolute simps for me and what the fuck do you guys mean an afternoon delight later—

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[brainmuncher]

Visiting an old friend

The whole way to Bludhaven Danny kept on telling himself that surely he’d made a mistake. He knew he could be impulsive sometimes but flying to Bludhaven on a rumor? He felt like he was a teenager all over again.

It’d been some dumb article he’d found while trying to focus on editing the design of a Fenton battery. It was a Bludhaven paper he’d forgotten to unsubscribe to that sent him a breaking news email. He used to eat up those papers, glad to have any way to see how his old friend was doing, but now it just felt suffocating to remember. He’d almost deleted it without even opening it, but some nagging feeling told him he should open it. He never would've expected to open it to a new blurry photo of a figure in blue, soaring above on the rooftops.

He barely got a couple of sentences into the article claiming that Nightwing could be back before he shot out of his apartment. Ever since that day when he watched invisibly as his coffin was laid in the ground he searched for Dick’s ghost. But no ghost this new could control their appearance that well. Colors were some of the hardest to control after all. So Dick could be… he really could be…

After that, the rest of the flight was much more nerve-wracking. He hadn’t ever met the other bats, but he knew that they could have some interesting rouges. Some kind of convoluted plan might have been behind all of this. Maybe someone was impersonating him? Or maybe some other blue vigilante has taken up Bludhaven… Was one of Dicks siblings taking over the Nightwing name? That last one was quickly shot down though. He saw how distraught the group was, he doubted if they would’ve even been able to touch the suit without breaking inside.

So all that led him to now, standing outside Dicks apartment building. Before they lost touch this was the place Dick told him he could go if he ever needed help. And seeing the lit-up rooms from the outside, Danny knew that at least someone had to have been there.

For the sake of normality, Danny decided to take the stairs within the building to Dicks floor. It definitely wasn’t because he was nervous or anything… it had nothing to do with that at all. Although the stairs seemed to reach the top quicker than he expected. 

He walked up to the apartment number that he was told about. A snarky ‘This house has gone 0 days without a pun’ welcome mat sat outside the door. The joke actually helped Danny calm down a bit, breathing in a deep breath of the slightly dusty hallway air before letting it out again. Without further ado, he rapped his knuckles on the hardwood door. Internally he winced at the loud noise. It was much later at night than any normal person would be awake. If someone was here and had a good sleep schedule then Danny probably just woke them up.

A few minutes passed by before his hearing picked up movement in the apartment. One part of him jumped in excitement, while the other sank with anxiety. Was that Dick? Or was it one of his siblings? Damn, Danny should have gone through with this invisibly, that way if it is one of the siblings he won’t have to face them. But it was much too late for that now, he knew that there had to be at least one camera facing him right now. Maybe he can just pretend to be lost? But then why would he climb up so many floors just to ask for directions? He really should’ve thought this through…

Before he could sink any lower into his panic the door let out a click of a lock. Momentarily frozen, he watched as the door slithered open without so much as a creak. To his amazement, the Dick Grayson stood staring back. He looked tired and was dressed in comfortable civilian clothes, but it was Dick. Before anything could be said Dicks eyes went down to look into Danny’s. His eyebrows creased in confusion, no doubt surprised by the random visit.

“Danny?” Dick questioned, his voice sounding a bit rough around the edges.

Danny couldn’t help the disbelieving smile from creeping up on his face.

“Hey Dick,” He spoke, his grin never leaving his face. “I’ve really missed you.”

A small breathy laugh of shock left Dicks lips as he looked down at Danny. He loosened his stance at the door, seeming to relax now that he knew who was there. Danny couldn’t help but feel bad at the scare he must have given the other. 

“I hadn’t thought we’d be seeing each other again. It’s been…” 

Years, Danny finished in his head. We haven’t seen each other in years.

They initially met on the streets funnily enough. Danny had been on the run from the GIW and Dick had been freshly fired from Robin and kicked out of the manor. Not that either one knew that much of each other at first. Danny had been hiding in a warm corner of a building when Dick bumped into him trying to find a warm place to stay as well. Danny offered for him to stay, not seeing any danger in letting someone around his age stay with him. After that things got revealed slowly, like Dick realizing that Danny wasn’t just homeless, he was hiding. And Danny noticing the odd skills that Dick had and the way the other held himself back in other situations. Slowly their secrets were shared with each other… and they found that they didn’t mind.

Eventually, they drifted apart though. Jazz and his friends finally found a way to create him a safe identity and eventually, he enrolled himself in college, deciding to take a break from Phantom for a while. Dick ventured out and created the Titans, even forging a new hero identity for himself as Nightwing. They slowly just stopped talking to one another after that. Not out of malice or anything, but just because they got busy. Life took over. It was only when a life was taken away, that Danny frantically tried to find out what happened to his friend.

But now that he’s here in front of him… He’s noticing the same things he’d seen from when they were on the streets. Dick had bags under his eyes like he was watching the candle burn at both ends and doing nothing to stop it. His clothes weren’t just baggy, they were unwashed. There was a faint toothpaste drop on his shirt that had been attempted to be rubbed off… but to no avail. His hair was shiny with unwashed grease and grime. And his face… He didn’t look like he was eating enough.

Like a truck had hit him, Danny suddenly found himself much less happy than he was before. Something was wrong with his friend. And if the crystae around the grave that Nightwing was supposedly buried were any indication… then… 

Danny straightened his stance subconsciously. It seems like he was due a serious conversation with the other.

“Can I come in? I’d rather not have this kind of conversation in the hall,” Danny asked awkwardly, looking around himself as if there was another person that he could see.

To Danny's concern, Dick’s body tensed up at the prospect of letting him in. He swore he saw Dick grimace at that for a split moment before a plastered-on smile was on his face. Nonetheless, Dick opened the door with much less bravado than he would’ve years ago and waved him in.

“Welcome to my abode,” he tried to joke, but the tone felt forced.

Danny didn’t understand why the other had looked that way until he walked through the doorway. While he may be no Kryptonian with insane super everything, he did have enhanced senses. And every single one of those senses went off like a bomb when he walked into the apartment. There were dirty dishes and clothes haphazardly left around collecting mold and mildew. He could see a portion of the Nightwing suit stuffed into a corner like Dick had tried to hide it from his sight. There were more than a few bottles of soda and coffee mugs spread across the room, some carrying a scent that Danny could live without. Then there was a shattered photo face down on the side of the room, glass still spread around the frame like a horrific halo. 

But the worst was probably the energy of liminal surrounding the whole place. The emotional energy within it was heavy, grief and desperation covering every inch. Everything just screamed pain pain PAIN PAIN-

Danny had to close his eyes, steeling himself against immediately answering the cry. It went against his very core to go against the cry for help but he knew he’d only make things worse if he dived straight in. Dick wasn’t one to accept help easily. He’d shown that multiple times in his various rants about Bruce’s attempts to help as Robin. Instead, he had to go about this differently.

“Man, you almost outrank me in the messy department,” Danny tried to joke instead.

He turned to look at Dick who finished locking his apartment back up against intruders. Hopefully, his eyes weren’t glowing from the intense cries his core was trying to fight against. Dick seemed to attempt to go with the jab, his smile not looking all there.

“I doubt that. I'm not the one who lost his phone and found it in his shin,” Dick replied, settling himself further into the apartment. 

Danny scoffed, waving his hand in the air like he could physically wipe away the comment. Slowly they started to migrate to where the couch was. There were blankets and pillows at the end like Dick would fall asleep there. Judging by the open case files on the table in front of it, he didn't sleep on purpose. 

“I actually keep it in my arm now. Much more convenient,” Danny winked, hopping on the couch and letting himself bounce on the spring underneath. “Although I do keep everything else in my haunt. I can make little portals now!”

Without further notice, Danny opened one of the said portals with his hands. As he hoped, although in any other circumstance, he normally wouldn't, a group of blob ghosts were near his things. A couple of them filed through the gap, chirping up at him. However, that sense of play quickly left them as they felt the energy around the place. Silently they flew away, off to do what they do best. 

Danny saw a twitch of a real smile for a second on Dicks face. Although it was quickly shut down like a sour memory. Like he was trying to escape it, Dick joined him on the couch, sitting a whole cushion away. 

“Should I be worried about them?” Dick motioned his chin towards the silent blobs making their way into his things.

Danny waved them off, still playing into his old impulsivity. He wasn't nearly as bad as he was as a teenager, but Dick didn't have to know that yet. Dick gave a skeptical look at him, watching as one of the blob ghosts swallowed one of the dirty cups whole.

“They're like bottom feeders in a fish tank. At most, you'll just find less dirt around. At the least… you might gain a cuddle buddy,” Danny hummed, watching the same blob from before sneeze and drop a perfectly polished cup back out.

At that, Danny could see Dick turn to look at him in his peripheral vision. Turning to join him in looking right at one another he could see Dick staring at him. Dick held a look on his face that Danny couldn’t uncover. His eyes wandered over Danny’s face like he was searching for something. But the rest remained perfectly blank. It reminded Danny of when they were still teens, trying to see if they could trust one another. Dick had given a similar look then before he'd nodded and sat down to talk. Hopefully this time it'll be no different. 

Although, Danny doesn't know how to feel when Dicks face shuts down a little. He can feel the exhaustion in the air. Somehow he feels like he just failed whatever Dick was searching for.

“Danny, why are you really here?” Dick asked finally.

The question was so out of the blue, and the answer so obvious. Danny couldn’t help the way his head tilted in confusion, not understanding why such a thing had to be asked. This wasn’t at all how he had planned for their conversation to go. He had wanted to keep things light so that the emotions wouldn’t make Dick clam up… or lash out. His next words need to be chosen carefully…

“Because I was concerned. One of my good friends just came back from death and I needed to make sure you were ok. Dying isn't an easy thing to process,” Danny spoke carefully, his own experience trickling into his mind.

The words seemed to make Dick even more defensive. It was exactly the thing Danny had been trying to avoid. But despite everything his efforts still led him to this moment. Dick had his guard up, his eyes glaring into Danny’s core.

“Well I'm alive,” Dick spoke with terseness, “so why are you still here?”

“Because I care about you,” Danny reiterated, his confusion turning over into concern. “Dick, you died. That type of thing sticks with you. I'm not about to leave you to deal with that alone.”

Dick scoffed. He readjusted himself on the couch, sliding a bit farther from Danny. At this point, he was almost leaning on the edge. The physical representation of the distance between them hurt more than Danny was willing to admit. He hadn’t had Dick run from him before.

“Ignoring me for years is one hell of a way to show it,” Dick bit back.

A wave of annoyance hit Danny from the comment, but he instead closed his eyes and ignored it. Dick used to do this constantly when they were young. He'd use a healing mental wound to pick at to bring the other person away from his own hurt. Except Dick made the mistake of using it too many times on Danny in the past. He was old enough now to stop and learn from what he was trying.

Letting out a breath of air, Danny looked up into Dicks eyes. He could feel the pain all around him. The wails of someone touched by death echo all around. This wasn't something he could let go. No matter how much Dick tries to push him away, he isn’t going to go anywhere.

“Dick, I'm not asking you to tell me what happened… or even how you came back. I would know more than anyone how painful it can be to relive those memories. I'm just asking for you to let me stay and help you. You're not okay.”

If Danny's words made an impact on Dick, he sure as hell didn't show it. He looked away from Danny’s eyes, instead staring at something far off. His movements seemed almost robotic. Like there was some kind of memory playing in his head that Danny couldn’t see.

“Whoever said I died? I went undercover Danny. Nothing happened. Nothing to talk about.” Dick spoke with a scarily devoid tone of voice, almost like he was reciting someone else.

Danny couldn’t stop the scoff from coming out of his mouth. Dick looked his way again, seeming to be surprised at the action. As if he could simply lie his way out of death. Danny tried the denial shtick. You can only tell yourself it was nothing for so long before you realize that not breathing in your sleep is probably a sign. 

“Dick I saw your grave. I don't know the details because I wasn't exactly invited, but I saw the crystae flowers blooming around the dirt. Those only bloom around memorials for the dead,” Danny explained carefully, watching as Dick looked more and more like he'd panic. “Even now I can feel death's touch on you. Your place is soaked in liminal energy… I can feel that you're in pain.”

Danny was a little hesitant to reveal that last bit but knew that Dick would pick up on it eventually. Especially with Danny sticking around, that liminality would only get stronger. That's just how ectoplasm is. It won't stick onto a healthy person unless they've already been exposed to it. Depending on how long Dick had been dead, it might be more attracted to him.

Although now Danny couldn’t help but feel awful about it as he saw Dick flounder. He at least took his time in coming to terms with his death, he should've known an emotionally repressed bat wouldn't be able to handle it all at once. Danny tried to reach out a hand, as something for Dick to physically hold onto to stay in the present. But in a moment of fear, Dick slapped it away. He jumped up from his spot on the couch, never looking at the same spot for more than a couple of seconds. 

“Dick I'm sor-” Danny tried to apologize but Dick started to do a panicked angry rambling right over him. 

“No! It doesn't count. I didn’t die. My heart only stopped for a couple of minutes. I was fine. Everything is fine!” He tried to reason to himself, his pacing taking a hysterical turn.

Danny winced at that. It doesn't matter how long you die. Ectoplasm doesn't care about that, only that you have some kind of exposure to it. Even in the first seconds of death you already create the energy for ectoplasm in the body. How much was created, and how much was in the air already, is what determines if you become a ghost. It's a natural part of life.

“Dick please,” Danny began again, but was stopped by Dicks piercing stare.

“I didn't die, Danny. I didn't die because that would mean he was right and I can't-” 

Dick let out a noise somewhere between a gasp for air and a dry sob. It tore at Danny's core to hear but considering how Dicks reaction to the last time he tried to reach out went, he stayed in place. One of the blob ghosts must have felt his pain, rushing over and chirping into Dicks chest. It caught the other off guard long enough to stop and take a few ragged breaths of air. The blob continued its chirping assault of cuddling into Dicks chest while the other refused to look at Danny. But in that moment Danny couldn’t have felt any more thankful for the blobs and didn't mind if Dick needed a moment. So they sat there for a moment, Dick sitting in his emotions and Danny waiting for him to calm down. 

The air was charged with a tone of sorrow. It was the kind that Danny was all too familiar with. It was the kind that left you feeling that there was no chance for your life to be happy again. The kind where everything felt like it had fallen apart all around you with no hope of it being repaired. It tore at Danny’s heart that Dick of all people was left to feel this way. Where were all the people that should be here supporting him? Where was his family in all of this? Surely Danny can’t be the only one to see the pain Dick is in.

“How…”

Danny looked up at Dick who seemed to be at a loss of what to say. He wasn’t looking up at him at all, only absentmindedly playing with the blob curled against his chest. 

“How did you get over it?” Dick spoke again, now looking up at Danny with an unsure gaze. “How can you just go on with your life without it constantly playing in the back of your head?”

Danny pursed his lips, knowing that his answer wasn’t one that Dick would like. Just at the action alone, he could see the little hope in the other's eyes die out. He once again turned his head to the blob ghost. With a gentle hand, Dick pets the back of the ghost's body.

“I’ve never gotten over my death. With help from my friends and sisters, I was able to accept it and heal from it… but I can never forget it,” Danny spoke solemnly.

He couldn’t help but notice the way Dicks petting movements momentarily paused at the mention of his support. It sent an alarm of concern through Danny. While he was here he couldn't believe that things could get so bad around here. There was just too much time in the layers of sadness and grime for this to be new. So why hasn't anyone tried to stop it and help? There was a disturbing painting being made before his eyes. For the sake of the heroes on this planet, he sure hopes his suspicion is wrong.

“But I promise you, Dick, that this is not the end. It might not seem like it, but things will get better,” Danny promised, something he didn’t take lightly. “I will be here to do everything I can to help you heal.”

Dick didn’t say anything back for a long time. He simply played with the blob on his chest, flicking its tail side to side in between his fingers. The blob certainly didn’t seem to mind, blubbering little chirps to itself. Neither did Danny, who could see that this was a bit too much at once for Dick. 

“Are you still retired?” Dick asked eventually, looking up at Danny with a begging look.

It was one that Danny could recognize. One that was asking for them to try and pretend that nothing was wrong. To give him time to break away from reality and think things over with himself. So Danny let the conversation lead off. It would just be more damaging than helpful to continue on this path. So, conceding to Dicks wordless pleas, Danny let it go.

“Technically. But I wouldn’t mind going back out again if it means I can work with the great Nightwing,” Danny smiled, hoping to bring back the light atmosphere of before.

It seemed to work if the small smile that Dick gave was any indication. Danny hadn’t realized how happy he would be to see a real, albeit small, smile from the other again. Giving a last pat on the blob ghost's head, Dick walked over to where half of the Nightwing suit was discarded.

“Then I hope you still have your spirit,” Dick quipped back, stepping away towards a hallway. “Cause I won’t be going easy on you old man.”

Danny scoffed at the old nickname, jumping off the couch in fake offense. Although it was much too late to say anything about it before Dick scampered down the hall. He could hear a door open and close, signaling Dick is putting his suit on. Danny doesn’t envy the suit that Dick has to put on. Who would’ve thought that putting on a skin-tight suit might take someone a bit?

Luckily Danny didn’t have to even lift a finger. Letting out a breath he let the cold of his core take over, feeling a rush of weightlessness hit him. Knowing that he still had plenty of time to wait for Dick, Danny turned and opened another temporary portal. This time he had opened it directly to his keep, spotting Fright Knight in the distance.

“Frighty,” Danny called into the portal, half laughing to himself as the said knight nearly jumped. “I need a favor from you.”

After years of beating up multiple ghosts, quite a few of the citizens of the realms held respect for Danny. Honestly, it was refreshing to be able to just talk with half of the ghosts he used to fight. While he still held fights with them, cause it’s a form of affection apparently, things had cooled off for the most part. 

Which means it allowed Danny to get to know a lot of them better. This is how he found out that Fright Knight was cursed to serve the king. Thankfully with a little help from Jazz studying the books in Ghost Writers library and a surprisingly life-or-death adventure, Danny freed the ghost. This led to Fright Knight giving his servitude to Danny… which kinda undermines the whole point of the adventure in the first place but it wasn’t Danny’s place to judge.

“What can I do you for, Sir Phantom?” Fright Knight asked, getting closer to the portal and standing guard right outside it.

Oh yeah, and had he forgotten to mention the nickname? Yeah, it bothered Danny too. Although he’s learned that there's not much he can do to change it.

“There are some mortals I’d like to keep an eye on. They are the vigilantes of Gotham,” Danny proposed, making it a suggestion even though he knows Fright Knight will just do anything he says anyway. “Could you look over them for me?”

Fright Knight gave a deep bow before stepping through the portal. His extremely tall frame still absolutely dwarfed Danny in size. Which means it was kinda funny to watch him step through a portal that was sized for Danny's height. He's just so used to making a portal no bigger than that that he hadn’t even considered it.

“I would be honored,” The ghost replied, to which Danny nodded with a thankful smile.

“Thank you Frighty. I’ll check in with you every once in a while,”

And with those last words, Fright Knight nodded and disappeared. He tended to be less on the wordy side anyway.

Was it smart to send someone to spy on the bats? Probably not. But chances are, Dick isn’t going to say anything. Unfortunately, Dick had a mentality that he had to deal with things that are hurting him on his own. Whether from a sense of guilt or fear of not being enough, Dick would rather lead himself into the deep end than call for help. So to figure out why he’s been left so hauntingly alone, Danny is going to have to investigate. Thankfully just him going ghost had already scrambled Dicks security cameras, so the entire conversation wouldn’t be noticed.

The sound of a door closing took Danny out of his thoughts. He turned to the opening of the hallway, feeling himself smile at Dick. It’s been a very long time since he’s seen Dick in costume. The last time he saw the Nightwing suit in person it had honest-to-god tassels. He’s honestly really glad that Dick had changed the costume since then. This new suit in front of him was much more sleek. 

As he nodded to himself he could see Dick raising an eyebrow at him. He stood much more relaxed than before, a smile that didn't look entirely fake on his face.

“At least you’ve gained some sense of style after all this time,” Danny hummed, finding delight in Dicks scandalized gasp.

“I thought you loved the old costume!” Dick said, trying and failing to smother his amusement with an upset face.

Danny shrugged and folded his legs underneath him. It felt so easy to use his powers like this again. While he wasn’t exactly shy to use his powers normally, his range of them was muted in human form. As he hovered in place, he tilted his head teasingly at the other.

“Sorry, I was so busy staring at your chest that I missed what you were wearing,”

Dicks off guard laughter was the best thing Danny had heard in years.

[keferon]

Two Peas in a Pod: part 2/?

*slips another piece into your mailbox*

_____________________

Jazz was still feeling a little woozy from his donation in the dark hours of the morning. Blaster had breakfast changed from the usual to something that felt more like a treat, probably a reward for his good behaviour, and to help his body recover. Fish heavy in proteins, fat, all that healthy stuff. Something that normally he would have tried to savour, but he wolfed it down from excitement. Too many questions ran through his head, and most he couldn't bring himself to voice.

The mer, the mer would pull through. Blaster told him about how he had saved their life with his blood. Praised him high and low. Because Blaster knew how Jazz felt about seeing blood, about how hard blood tests were for him, and that was only a tiny vial. Not three big bags of it. Jazz hadn't seen how much they had taken – because he had kept his eye closed until they left in a hurry –, and hearing about it made him dizzy for other reasons, but he honestly felt real proud of himself.

It was a new feeling, different from other moments of pride – like when he figured out the lock codes. Yeah, this gave him butterflies and the drive to help more.

Blaster laughed when Jazz offered that the vets could take more if the other mer needed it. His handler didn't think it would be, but he would pass it on to the vet team.

Jazz's morning checks were a little off, expected with having a little less fluids and feeling off-balance, but it was kept short and quick. Blaster told him that if he learned anything more, he'd tell him next time he came by and then hurried back down to the staff area. Blaster was needed elsewhere, understandably as there weren't many mer experts here, though he did leave Jazz his waterproof stereo if he wanted to play some of his favourites.

But, the orca mer was far too busy causing a whirlpool from the laps he was swimming. He was too excited to sit still, and embarrassment be damned he started practising old vocals. He didn't remember much of his mother tongue, and he was pretty sure that his pronunciation was off, that or had one hell of an accent. Echo-speech was even more rusty. And once he had gone over and over what he could recall, Jazz began to really worry. A few sentences and handful or so of words was all he had? Gods, I hope I can at least make a decent first impression. Blaster said they were just like me, so hopefully, that will give me some starting points.

More than he cared to count, Jazz would swim into the shallow waters of the medical bay and hope to see something through that window. But no one ever came close enough for him to hear any news of the mer. He couldn't even see anything on his radar, wherever they had done treatment, it wasn't in the hospital ward. It almost felt like he was being purposely kept in the dark.

And just when Jazz was starting to worry that things had taken a bad turn, a group of staff turned up around four pm. He wasn't able to ask any questions, or rather they refused to answer. Shooing him away as they got to work. Starting with closing the gate to the bay to 'keep him out'. Jazz could easily climb those walls, but that wasn't the point. Even if the gate window was closed, he could pick up that they were setting up the water hammock. But it wasn't until he heard the cautionary beeping of the hoist lift approaching that it dawned on him – the mer was coming. Now.

"Jazz," Blaster called, "… Jazz," he blew the training whistle and finally got his mer's attention. "Stop pacing and get over here."

"But–" Jazz looked back longingly up the wall.

"Jazz," his tone dropped to a firm one, and Jazz begrudgingly swam over to the pier. The human crouched and made sure that they held eye contact before he spoke. "I need you to promise me that you will stay in your enclosure."

He sunk a little, trying to play into his cuteness, but being far too anxious to really pull it off. "What do you mean?"

"Jazz," now warning him. Blaster knew full well that he was more than capable of getting into or out of places he shouldn't, bloody Houdini mermaid, "this is serious. Things are going well, we want to keep it that way. Which means keeping things calm and feeling safe. You're excited, I get it, we all are. But in about an hour, they'll be waking up and – from past experience seen with wild Mers – they will likely freak out. And the last thing we need is you hauling your tail over that wall and making things worse. Understand?"

The beeping was louder how and the hiss of hydraulics caused Jazz to look up. The arm of the lift was visible over the wall. They're here!

"Jazz," Blaster hopelessly called for his attention once more.

Within moments, a massive bundle was carefully raised, the staff calling out and coordinating. Jazz's gaze was fixed on the black and white fluke poking out, it was the only part of them he could see, and his heart began to race. Once they became hidden by the wall again, Jazz moved back to pacing by the gate without even thinking. Listening to people hopping into the water to unstrap the mer and call back n' forth. "Careful, careful! – Watch the head! – Someone give me a hand over here! – We're clear on this side! – Keep the head up!"

Really starting to sound like a broken record, Blaster chirped the whistle and called out to him again. The expression he wore must have been pretty pitiful because the look on Blaster's face dropped. "If I open the view port… will you promise me that you will wait, that you will stay in your enclosure?"

"I promise," he answered hastily, placing his hands on the gate, over the panel that would slide open.

"And that you will wait until everything is in the clear, till the staff come to oversee the integration. There will be no rushing things and no asking staff when we will open the gate."

"I promise," he repeated, trying not to beg.

Satisfied, Blaster pulled out his radio, "Blaster to Control; when the team is out of the Mer enclosure's medical bay, open the view port. Jazz's stress is mounting without a visual."

"Can do," came a quick reply.

Though, opening the panel was not. Several minutes went by, the hoist had cleared out, and much of the staff had returned to their other duties. Only two remained double-checking the mer's breathing and pulse. The moment that the last of them left, Jazz heard the lock disengage, and he retracted his hands as the panel shifted and began to slide open. The window was too small to get more than his hand – maybe up to his elbow if he wanted to push it – through, and sat just at water level– any movement sending water hopping to either side. But it gave him a clear view of the surface area inside.

Oh.

Oh. Jazz stopped breathing. While the mer's body was mostly supported by the fabric of the hammock, cradling them on their side, effectively hiding most of them from Jazz's angle. Propped up on a soft floating platform was the mer's head, face towards the gate. Sharp features and elegantly shaped finials, with flattering lines of their markings complimenting the peaceful expression as they slept. The butterflies from earlier came back stronger than ever, his heart thundering as words fumbled from Jazz's lips, "he's beautiful…"

_____________________

-GLC

Orca Prowl really is just-- too fucking pretty, omg, I'm living through Jazz in this moment like when I first saw your designs of him.

I'm more than happy to continue writing for you, you bring me so much joy. I screamed when I saw how much you liked it. If you have any requests you would like me to add to the story, leave it in the tags or comments ♡ I now plan to continue until the tsunami and a bit afterwards, maybe more, we'll see~

Upd: There is a next part!

Previous

Oh. MY GOD. OKAY ALRIGHT OKAY ALRIGHT OKA

I'M ABOUT TO START PACING IN CIRCLES JUST LIKE JAZZ OVER HERE KDLCNFJFLFB PL E A S E THIS IS SO GOOD. The tension?? You can fucking TASTE it IT'S SO GREAT GLC I LOVE YOU

The way it all starts at night and then you (as a reader) have all this additional time to boil in your anticipation?? So fucking great. Like you can really feel how little power Jazz has over the wholse situation. The plot is moving but he doesn't have any saying in it. Well. Yet heheh

Anyway haha. Im normal and I made some art>:D

[firewasabeast]

The morning of his wedding, Buck goes off on his own for a little bit. No one knows where he’s at, and Maddie worries he might have run off.

But Tommy knows exactly where to find him. He drives out to the serene cemetery, where all you can hear is the sound of trees swaying and birds chirping. He walks down the path until he spots Evan.

Buck can sense him there. Glances over, gives Tommy a small smile and motions that he’s almost done.

“You were right,” Buck says, laying a bouquet at Bobby’s grave. “He is good for me. You’d be proud of us, I think. We’ve come a long way, Cap. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

He stands, walks over to Tommy, who already has his arms open for Buck to fall into. Tommy presses a kiss to his temple. “You ready to get married?”

Buck nods. Lifts his head as the breeze picks up. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC worlds greatest detectives ramble

You ever just get a bit tired of the batfamily being dumb?

Sure I appreciate a good “Danny is weird and the Bats try to figure out his deal and draw wrong conclusions based on incomplete evidence” fic as much as the next guy, and I’m definitely not saying not to write them

But the thing is, they’re all really smart. It’s their whole thing, they’re a family of detectives that dress up in colorful costumes and fight crime, but detectives nonetheless

And I get it’s for humorous effect to have otherwise intelligent people be incredibly dumb about one thing, but it’d just be nice to see them be smart sometimes. Even in a fic where they’re drawing the wrong conclusions, it’d be nice to see them use their detective skills

Like build a case so solid Danny questions whether they’re actually right about him and if he’s just confused

Or just apply it to more conventional situations/crimes

Because frankly it’s funnier if you show they’re smart before having them do something really stupid

If you build them up a bit, then it’s funnier when they fall down.

“Where did he go? It’s like he vanished into thin air!?”

“Don’t be silly, see these scuff marks? Someone recently went down this way. The gravel here has been disturbed indicating this manhole cover has been moved recently. Now if we just prop this up…”

“…huh, is that…?”

“Killer Croc and not the twink we were just tracking?”

“Yeah, that”

“Yeah, that’s killer croc… hi Waylon”

*large scaly hand darts out and drags Bat in question down in the sewers while Danny watches invisibly*

[mammalsofaction]

Y'know what would be really funny? If each of the Flynn Fletcher siblings KNOW/have suspicions about Perry's secret, but they each keep it to themselves for individual reasons. It's been pointed out before that Perry can get REALLY reckless sometimes, and other times the boys are too clever/know Perry way too well.

-CANDACE has actually seen and interacted with Perry in secret agent mode, particularly during the time she thought she was high off her rocker and Perry had to save her from a self destructing volcano. She's had dreams where Perry was a secret agent in them.

-She doesn't bring it up or think about it much bc she just has like. A lot of other more pressing priorities most of the time, which is so valid. Also I lowkey thinks she suspects she's got a hallucination problem, like with the Zebra? I get why she doesn't talk about it out loud: she sounds crazy enough to her mother as is without suddenly talking about how their exotic pet is a sentient secret agent in a fedora.

-FERB figured it out almost immediately that day he and Phineas accidentally fell into Perry's lair and they pretended to be "secret agents" for the day. HE knows he didnt make that lair. Everything was almost toddler sized, but functionally and professionally equipped for a working adult. There were only two "P" s in the family, and it clearly wasn't Phineas. Also? Everything was Platypus themed. He put two and two together.

-I figure he doesn't talk about it bc he lowkey knows why Perry doesn't tell them. He and Phineas have a lot of faith in Perry, and Ferb is a lot less emotional. If Perry refuses to tell them about his double life and where he goes, hes just gonna trust him.

-Im pretty sure PHINEAS subconsciously knows about the secret agent thing. From where? Africa. He 💯 spotted Perry in secret agent mode on the other side of the gulf while hanging from that vine, and between his siblings Phineas is CLEARLY the one who knows what Perry looks like best. He can pick Perry out from colour and smell from every other brown eyed teal platypus in the entire tri-state area. He not only recognizes his paw prints: he knows Perry's healthy weight distribution on them to know whether or not hes injured or limping. Like....my boy can be oblivious and autistic 98% of the time, but Phin is also REALLY self aware and trusting of his own eyes and instincts.

-He doesn't talk about it because hes in denial 👍

[batwynn]

One of the top ten funniest/best experiences of being a (any creative field) creator online is seeing someone tag/comment something completely different than the intended message or subject of the art/photo/story was, and it genuinely doesn’t matter if it’s not what you intended for them to experience with the thing because they got something out of it and as wild and out of left field as it is, it’s just… good.

And I don’t mean people who do the willingly misunderstand no reading comprehension and likes to yell at people thing.

I mean someone tagging suburbs on a photo of an extremely rural house. I mean someone writing an entire mini fic about an art piece that is so far from anything you were thinking of when you drew it but it’s got that heart and soul. I mean someone tagging their masc af bestie in a post about sparkly magical girls with ‘this you?’ and you can’t tell if it’s irony or genuine gender fuckery or both. I mean ship or fandom tags from 900 fandoms away on your Marvel ship art. I mean those ‘that’s me’ tags on frog pictures. I mean the seemingly random stories of life events someone went though that are followed up with the person looking concerned in the drive through window jpg. I mean the ‘wish that was me’ tag on an anime clip of someone burning alive. I mean shared experiences and ‘damn bitch you live like this?’

It’s all good. I’m beyond thrilled that you experienced something. I don’t know what it is, sometimes, but that doesn’t matter. You experienced something. And I just think that’s cool af.

[haridraws]

I understand and respect copyeditors, but in my heart of hearts I think commas and hyphens should be vibes-based

[zesty-alt]

Balls deep, rubbing his belly and asking "How many babies are you gonna give me?"

[mediumgayitalian]

"Call me when you get home."

Will smiles. "You could come too, you know."

Nico scoffs, reaching for his twisted collar. He fixes it as Will snickers, quickly moving on to the rest of his badly wrinkled shirt. Where did he keep this. His pillowcase?

"I'm -- busy."

"Yeah, workin' on that excuse."

Nico's face burns and he refuses to dignify that with an answer.

"Shut up."

"Mhm." Will wraps his fingers around Nico's wrist, shifting his hand off his shirt and sliding their fingers together. Nico stares at them, the contrast -- Will's scarred, freckled tan against Nico's pale calluses. He closes his eyes and tries to freeze the picture, hold onto it, but it fades quicker than sunset. "I'm only gone for a week, babe."

"That is a stupid amount of numbers."

"Hundred sixty-eight, yeah."

"What if you get -- attacked?"

Will pulls their joined hands to rest on his chest, using his free hand to place theatrically on his forehead due to who he is as a person.

"The depth of my love shall save me," he says, dramatically. "You will hear my plea for help from thousand miles away, O Saver Of Damsels."

Nico scowls. "You're irritating."

"And you make the choice to date me every day, so who is the real dumbass here."

"You, still."

"Fascinating logic as usual."

A smile cracks on his face and Will pumps his fist like the dork he is, crowing his victory to the heavens. Nico wants to punch him as much as kiss him, and then abruptly realizes he can do nothing about that feeling for the next several days.

"Hey." A gentle thumb brushes against his bottom lip, tilting his head up. Will's smile has softened. "You know you can, like...teleport, right? That is a thing you can do? If you're worried you can just stalk me from a distance. Lurk, as you do."

Nico could lurk. It's true. And then he would not have to face Will's mother and have to potentially flay himself as soon as he inevitably fumbles every interaction and their entire relationship goes up in smoke.

"You could also just come with me normally. Like, you know, as my boyfriend meeting my mother. Who is normal. And kind of an awkward person herself. You should see her interviews. She'll put her foot in her mouth four times faster than you will, I can promise you that."

"Your mother is lovely," Nico stresses, which he knows objectively. Many are.

"As are you," Will responds easily. He bends down to distract Nico with a gentle press of their lips. Nico is indeed distracted. He is soft and smells like lavender. Nico has weaknesses and urges and they are all stamped with WAS.

"Hngh."

Nico emphasizes his point by flapping his free hand emphatically. Will accepts his point by Sighing.

"Sigh," he adds, out loud. "One day. Next time. Soon."

"Sure," Nico lies.

"Sigh," Will says again. His grin is wide and soft around the edges, even as he rolls his eyes; he leans down and kisses him again and lingers, this time. Waits for Nico to sag into his hold and close his eyes, wanting.

"Okay," Nico mumbles, refusing to pull away. "Okay, you gotta catch a train."

"Yep."

"It leaves in one hour."

"Mhm."

"The bus ride from camp to the train station happens to be one hour exactly."

"Right on."

"You gotta -- leave, Will."

"Sure," Will says, kissing him again, "five more minutes."

Nico smiles, and lets him.

[silverwhittlingknife]

So you're a go to source for all things Dick&Tim bros and you tend to write primarily from Dick's POV. So, odd question, but if you were to summarize their relationship from his POV in FIVE panels which panels would you pick? Keeping in mind that one specific aspect of their relationship that you love needs to be clearly represented by each panel (loyalty, trust etc). I hope this is a fun challenge and not an annoying question so if you don't want to answer that's cool! Have a wonderful day!

No more talk. The same thoughts run through two minds... (SotB 29) / You're my equal. My closest ally. (RR 1) / I can't stop thinking how much I rely on him. (GoG 3)

25 Feelings Dick Has About Tim

This was such a kind ask & a cool challenge which I totally failed; here are TWENTY-five panels of Dick's POV on Tim sdfdsfds Look, I got carried away! Marcia and Cindy! The boys!!

OKAY SO BEFORE I GET TO THE PANELS A FEW NOTES:

WARNING THAT THERE ARE SOME NEGATIVE EMOTIONS IN HERE because I love conflict but but but you gotta remember those are not the final word!! They are complicated people and sometimes they get mad at each other BUT ultimately their relationship is so hugely important in both their lives & they love each other and rely on each other so much -!!! <3

Also I have CONCLUDING THOUGHTS at the end about what Dick's POV leaves out (mostly: a lot of Dick defending & protecting & supporting Tim, which Dick does instinctively but isn't very self-aware about most of the time)

I have loosely organized my list into 5^5 format (5 categories with 5 examples each!), so if you want to skip to a relevant one, here are the categories!!

Below the cut:

I hate him and find him infuriating (#1-5)

On second thought, he's endearing & fun (#6-10)

Grief is complicated & he's all tangled up in mine (#11-15)

I love him & think highly of him (#16-20)

I rely on him & though it's hard for me, I trust him (#21-25)

I hate him and find him infuriating (#1 - 5)

1) He thinks he’s so smart and can psychoanalyze me and Bruce, but he doesn’t know me at all, he should get lost (New Titans 61)

2) He thinks he’s so smart and can psychoanalyze Bruce but he doesn’t know Bruce at all, he should get lost (Gotham Knights 26)

3) He is so nosy about stuff that is MY business (Robin 0)

4) He sounds like an insincere suck-up half the time... but okay, fine, if you push him he's got a sense of humor about it (New Titans 65)

5) I'm sure he's a better vigilante than me. It's my fault for being a failure, but I resent him anyway. (Nightwing 9 - Dick's having a nightmare)

On second thought, he's kinda endearing (#6-10)

6) He worries too much and gets anxious so easily, but it makes him fun to tease (Robin 67)

7) I'm not that competitive - okay, so maybe I'm a little competitive, I gotta make sure he doesn't get a swelled head (Prodigal)

8) I'm supposed to be his favorite! It is not cool for him to be fanboying over my not-girlfriend's not-boyfriend!! (Birds of Prey 19)

9) We have fun together. I can kick back and relax when it's just the two of us. Plus I get to boss him around a bit. (Prodigal)

10) He’s always trying to reassure me, and I guess it's a little comforting, but also he doesn’t really get it. Or me. He makes excuses that he shouldn't, because he doesn't understand that I suck. (Nightwing 64)

Grief is complicated and he's all tangled up in mine (#11 - 15)

11) He reminds me of everything I try not to think about. Sometimes the memories are so strong it hurts to look at him. (Batman 441)

12) WHY IS HE BEING IMPOSSIBLE ALL OF A SUDDEN??? THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING (Nightwing 139)

13) We're the same. He says all the things I don't let myself think about. It's like arguing with myself. (Nightwing 139)

14) He thinks he gets to tell me what to do but he doesn’t, fuck him (Battle for the Cowl)

15) Life sucks, so what. I sucked it up so he should too (RR 1)

I love him and think highly of him (#16 - 20)

16) He’s the closest thing to a brother I’ll ever have.  If someone hurts him I will hurt them harder. (Nightwing 6)

17) I can't handle the idea of losing him. (Nightwing 97)

17) He’s so good and I’m not. I'm afraid I’m bad for him. (Nightwing 110)

18) He’s better than me, and it’s kind of a relief because I know no matter what he’ll be okay. (Gates of Gotham 3)

19) In my head he’s the responsible one.  (Gotham Knights 10)

I rely on him, and though it's hard for me, I trust him (#20-25)

20) I know I have to trust him but I'm afraid he'll make the wrong choices and get hurt (Nightwing 139)

21) I'm sure I know what he should do because I see myself in him - not that I can take my own advice, but he should (Blackest Night 3)

22) I trust him.  When I’m losing my grip on things, he pulls me back. (Gotham Knights 10)

23) I want him to trust me (Red Robin 12)

24) He can tell when I'm lying. Sometimes he sees my weaknesses better than I wish he did. (Detective Comics 874)

25) He’s always there when I need him. (Teen Titans / Outsiders Secret Files)

Final rambling thoughts:

TIM: Uhh, okay, so I'm just skimming this list - do you really trust me? you're not just saying that? - but anyway, I'm confused because you left some stuff out? Like some stuff that's kinda important? DICK: No? I think I got everything? TIM (starts counting on his fingers): The time I was having a bad day but then I called you. The time I got captured by Two-Face but then you saved me. The time I fell off a train but then you saved me. The time I fell off a building but then you saved me. The time I fell off a different building - DICK: I feel like you're trying to make some kind of point but I'm not sure what it could be.

SO THE THING IS, I put 25 panels in here and not a single one has Dick catching Tim when he’s falling!!! But I think that's a central motif of their relationship from Tim’s POV, not Dick’s. I love Dick, but in some ways I think he is spectacularly un-self-aware.

And I think he especially has a lot of blind spots about Tim. He kinda intermittently gets that Tim admires him, and he enjoys it in a playful I-get-to-boss-you-around way. But Dick tends to consistently underestimate all of his own good qualities & skills, and he meets Tim at a point in his life when he's especially down on himself & his abilities. And so he's unable to see his own influence on Tim, & therefore unable to fully understand a lot of Tim's priorities and loyalties and motivations, because you can't actually understand Tim without understanding Dick's impact on him. There's a fascinating moment in Bruce Wayne: Murderer when Dick's completely blindsided & upset to discover that Tim doesn't entirely trust Bruce, even though this has been a definitive fact of Tim's whole thing ever since he showed up with his Batman needs Robin theory, and Barbara has to actively remind Dick of the obvious-to-everyone-except-Dick fact that a lot of Tim's loyalty is to Dick, and Tim loves Bruce but feels free to be more wary of him. (And to give Bruce credit: this is not something he ever begrudges.) But anyway Babs points this out, and Dick manages to sorta process it for about five seconds, but he cannot actually accept it into his worldview so instead he discards it at the speed of light and goes off and has an argument with Tim instead sdfsfdsf

All of Dick's virtues - Dick's kindness at the circus and Dick's determination to fight through grief and Dick's rigid sense of morals and Dick's vigilante skills and every time Dick has ever backed Tim up or listened to him or protected him or saved him from something or just been casually kind to a stranger in Tim's presence etc etc etc - all these things loom really large in Tim's mental story of Who Dick Is, and What Dick And Tim's Relationship Is. Tim meets Dick before he meets Bruce, trusts Dick more than Bruce, aspires to be Robin instead of Batman. And so in Tim's default version of the story, Dick is the super-special and admirable hero and Tim is... nobody in particular, a tagalong outsider who's barely managing to be a hero, not part of Dick and Bruce's family and not part of their story, who, if he's VERY LUCKY and tries REALLY HARD, might be able to fight his way to proving himself and offering something to Dick that Dick will value, if Dick doesn't get fed up with him first.

But that's not Dick's version of the story!!!

Dick's version of the story is almost the exact opposite, a story where Dick's an outcast failure black sheep who's screwing up everything he tries, and meanwhile Tim is The Sudden New Perfect Robin Who's Better Than Me And Probably Bruce Loves Him More And Probably They Gossip About What A Loser I Am, mixed with a complicated edge of Tim Thinks He's So Smart But He Doesn't Know Me/Us At All. Dick gets much more attached to Tim over time, and Tim gets unnervingly better at the know-it-all psychoanalysis so then Dick gets to have complicated feelings about him being right instead of just annoyance at him for being wrong, plus Dick's relationship with Bruce improves a lot, so Tim stops feeling so threatening. But Dick never fundamentally changes his basic theory of their relationship in which Tim is highly impressive and capable, and Dick is not so much.

And so asking Dick about Tim is kinda like if you asked George Bailey to tell you about Harry Bailey in It's A Wonderful Life; like, you'll be there for five hours while he tells you how great Harry is, and how accomplished Harry is, and how he doesn't really get how or why Harry does the things he does, and maybe George does feel a little resentful or jealous sometimes, but that pales in comparison to all his admiration and trust for Harry who he loves so much, who's better than him in so many ways, and he's not gonna openly gripe but secretly he can't help but feel sometimes like he's such a failure in comparison to Harry, a perfect person who emerged fully formed from Zeus's head with all the virtues and also all the accomplishments, etc. etc. etc. --

-- and he will not actually remember the part where he changed and saved Harry's whole entire life unless you literally send him to an alternate timeline in order to force him to remember it. <3