#file received.

[hoodedmenace]

“ i’ve got your back, okay? ”

   Jason shifts uncomfortably, and despite the fact that his face is completely covered by his mask and the cowl, that body language is enough. “You don’t need to have my back, you know that, right? Like... there’s no obligation.” Against all odds, Kate is still here, in Gotham of all places. “Definitely not for this.” He sounds tired. Tired of Gotham. Tired of the Joker. Tired of the Jokers insane posse.

   Kate’s always pretty quick to point out that he’s not the only one on the planet like them to be put through the wringer—they’ve all got their demons and their problems and their shitty coping mechanisms, and Jason gets that, he really does... except experience would point out the other obvious.

   No one has time for each other when they’re busy dealing with their own shit, and they’re all dealing with their own shit.

   “It’s fine.”

[markofwinter]

happy birthday boinky bjornes

oh my god i forgot my own birthday?????

[championofstars]

There's a card sitting on his desk leaning against a small glass tube. At a closer look at the tube there's a desert flower resting inside, perfectly preserved. The card is written in Keith's familiar scribble, "As long as it stays in the glass it will never wilt or die. No matter where you go there will always be a piece of home and me with you. Happy Birthday. -Keith. "

   The glass jar is the first to grab Shiro’s attention when he steps into his quarters with a soft hiss of the doors and an even softer exhalation from his lungs. Every aching thought for a shower gets shuffled to the back of his mind, and he crosses the room in only a few strikes to pick the card up off his desk.

   It’s cheesy, so cheesy, enough that Shiro wants to ask Keith where he got it so that he can buy a thousand of them and make sure everyone gets one. Upon closer inspection, the left inside flap seems to have a paw-shaped dust print smudged into the corner. One of the edges is bent. Keith’s signature is smeared.

   The card has earned its place on a shelf, so Shiro sets it aside for now and picks up the jar that’s been flickering in his peripheral, lifting it up to the light to turn it this way and that.

   He loves it.

   So much.

   Now he just has to figure out how to put into words that he’s not planning on going anywhere without Keith.

[hoodedmenace]

Jason and Buck is so precious I 🥺🥺💖 you are both such good writers!!!

th

; ^ ; thank u !!!!!

[hoodedmenace]

❝ your deep, sleepy voice makes me feel like i’m okay. ❞

   “Is that what does it?”

   Jason exhales on a slow stretch, hand slipping from between Kate’s shoulders to the small of her back and subsequently tugging her closer against his front. She’s warm from the blankets and his body heat and he can’t see her face from where she’s tucked it against his neck.

   She probably wouldn’t have said anything otherwise.

   “I think you give me too much credit,” he mutters quietly, sighing when a hand comes up to scratch through his hair. “But I guess you wouldn’t have stayed otherwise.”

[hoodedmenace]

"I dunno about being baby, but Jason definitely is A baby. Look at that face. I wanna pinch his cheeks." Makes finger pinching motions at him.

   I’ll rip off your fingers and stab you with them, Grayson.

[hoodedmenace]

jason did you know you’re baby

[hoodedmenace]

i know you want to punish me, and i get it. i want to punish myself.

shameless sentence starters

   “Oh, fuck the fuck off,” Jason seethes, teeth a white angry strip across his face. This is why he dislikes talking to Bruce. The conversations go one of four ways: they beat the shit out of each other, physically or emotionally, Bruce reaches out and gets bitten, Jason reaches out and gets bitten, or they talk like normal human beings who have a mental capacity to lead an engaging and understanding conversation.

   This is option two or three, he can’t tell yet.

   “I mean, yeah, but like, for which part? ‘Cause I got a list ‘bout as long as Apple’s Terms and Conditions, and I don’t think our documents match.”

   The additions to it are much shorter than the initial list itself. He had a lot to be angry about when he came kicking and screaming out of the Pit.

   “I don’t even think you know who you’re talking to anymore,” Jason scoffs, tipping his head away, arms shifting to fold snugly across his chest. “You’re trying to reconcile me now versus whatever version of me gave you the most shit versus the version of me as a kid, and it ain’t making a clean picture, is it?”