theskeptileptic

[papayafromtv]

fed up with Bruce tracking them/invading their privacy in the name of safety, i like to think the batkids pull an uno reverse and microchip Bruce while he’s passed out after a bad patrol injury. they start tracking his phone activity and texting him about wherever he is. bringing up things they know he’s searched for one his phone/people he’s been talking to, showing up at wherever he is during the day and interrupting him just to prove they always know where he is; just overall trying to annoy him the best they can.

issue is, Bruce is just so happy to see and talk to his kids at any point that he doesn’t even notice the breach of privacy, and the kids just end up feeling really awkward about how happy their dad is to see them.

Jason will bring up something in conversation with Bruce that was only privately relayed through texts between Bruce and a colleague, smirking because he knows Bruce is gonna be really paranoid about who’s watching his texts, except Bruce just smiles and happily chats with him for thirty minutes and he’s in a good mood all day because Jason willingly had a casual conversation with him, and when the JL ask why Batman’s in such a good mood at a meeting later that day Jason just goes bright red and doesn’t know what to say because he didn’t realise how much Bruce genuinely craves just catching up with him every now and then.

Dick will stalk him for weeks and wait until Bruce has a really tough busy day at work, specifically so he can wait for the evening where Bruce finally has a single moment to himself in a bar somewhere to relax, and then he busts in loudly sitting down next to Bruce and talking non-stop while ordering a drink, thinking that Bruce is going to be mad because this was his one peaceful moment and Dick ruined it by constantly tracking him. but instead the second Bruce realises Dick’s there all his exhaustion disappears. he gets a really wide genuinely pleased look on his face and happily offers to buy Dick a drink because ‘it’s so rare that they get to hang out!’ and Dick is left floundering because he was trying to be an asshole but now he just feels bad that he doesn’t spend time with Bruce outside of patrol business.

Tim keeps watching him through security cameras and updating him through text on his location in an attempt to make him tired of the constant supervision, but every time he texts Bruce like ‘you just walked into starbucks for the second time today.’ Bruce will just openly smile at his phone and respond like ‘would you like me to get you a drink? i can drop it off at your office if you’d like :)’ and Tim has to give up almost immediately.

essentially i like the idea of the batkids trying to annoy Bruce with themselves, forgetting that Bruce is just a dad who really loves his kids and can’t ever be annoyed by them.

[pinkiemachine]

Fun time with BatDad 😂

[katanahime]

By the way, the questions of "Who is the biggest Tim glazer, Bruce or Dick?" and "Who is the biggest Dick glazer, Bruce or Tim?" are both rather close, like we are talking President and Vice President of the respective fanclubs.

But the question of who is the biggest Bruce glazer is Dick. And it's not close. Not remotely. He's the biggest Bruce glazer alive. And Tim doesn't even really glaze Bruce. But Tim is conversely the biggest Bruce excuser, which is like the opposite while maintaining positive feelings. So basically if Bruce actually fucks up, Tim ends up like "well what did you expect?" and Dick is like "BETTER OF HIM" which is why Dick is the one that gets angry.

[theskeptileptic]

just wanted to see how you were coping with the new noah kahan album

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

[lovesick-joey]

today has been okay.

[theskeptileptic]

When hope fails, take a breath, take a seat, feel the earth, and cry. Then get up, hopeless, and breathe, hopeless, and fight, hopeless. Rage, hopeless. Weep, hopeless. Live, hopeless.

And when the chasm of absent hope threatens to overtake and overwhelm, draw on your anger to pull you up, fingernail by fingernail, to the top of the world.

Scream, hopeless, and when your cries and grief echo back, listen. Listen to the truths that are now so clear across the empty canyon. Listen to them. Address them. Fight for them. Love them.

Because with hope, they would have been muffled. They would have been trapped. They would have been lost.

And you are not made to be a tamed, muzzled thing in a tame, muffled world.

Hope is overrated in a world where evil things fight with evil claws. Let them fall into the chasm where your hope had been sheltering them. Walk away, hopeless, and live to fight another day.

[slut4mattmurdock]

“Tim Drake liked Dick Grayson because he was the first Robin”

Wrong.

Tim Drake liked the first Robin because he was Dick Grayson

[bakedbakermom]

if you ever find yourself writing fanfiction and thinking "this is too indulgent" that is the devil talking and he can go ahead and shut the fuck up

[ninjasmudge]

worlds slowest fanfic author tries really really hard

[ninjasmudge]

everyone in the notes we are all holding hands. everyone who hasnt worked on a wip in weeks or months or years, its okay. we are going slow but we are going

[aropride]

ao3 is an awesome website for people who love "open in new tab"

[frownyalfred]

Bruce Wayne is the kind of instructor who’ll wipe the floor with his Robins during training for months until they finally start getting it and actually learn how to fight back. and then one Tuesday morning Bruce wakes up and decides to start fighting left hand-dominant instead and all of that hard-earned progress is completely gone overnight. when I tell you his kids hate him and LOVE him so much—

[theskeptileptic]

Then they all go and do this to their respective teams and the generational cycle continues…

[cowboysorceror]

a DIRECT rip from chapter 5 of "straight on 'til morning" by @mamawasatesttube aka one of my most beloved favorite Kon fics of all time <3 ID in alt text!

[hannigramislife]

In my heart, Dick Grayson is my favorite Robin. In practice, if anything happened to Tim Drake, I'd kill everyone in the room and then myself.

[hannigramislife]

A hundred comics later, I'm afraid to say, Tim Drake is definitely my favorite Robin.

[titans-thoughts]

I mean, if it helps, Dick is Tim's favorite Robin and Tim is Dick's favorite Robin?

[hannigramislife]

It does help, you're so right.

[avayarising]

They’re like those cats in the shelter that have to be homed together. If one of them is your favourite the other one has to be up there as well.

[kaylewiswrites-deactivated20180]

How I think I’m writing: Using eye contact, or lack thereof, to display emotions such as intimacy, shock, denial, or nervousness. 

How I’m actually writing: She looked at me, and I looked away. I tried to look back, but she was already looking at the sky. “Look,” she sighs, looking back at me for a split second. “I don’t know how to say this.” We looked at each other and time stopped, but then she looked her lookers at something else to look at, looking tired. 

[theskeptileptic]

Tim really didn’t like opening presents in front of people and before coming to the Waynes, it wasn’t like he had any practice. His birthday gifts had always been self-bought with his parents’ credit card and their family never celebrated the holidays as anything other than “gala season.” Mrs. Mac once bought him a Batman sticker book after a really bad flu one year, but that was unwrapped and placed on his pillow while he was throwing up in the guest bathroom.

The first wrapped present Tim ever got was from Dick on his first Christmas Eve after becoming Robin. He was changing in the locker room and planning on walking back to Drake Manor to slip into sweatpants and binge old episodes of Star Trek. Bruce had given him a rare “good job” that night and he was practically glowing. After his shower, he grabbed his bag from his locker when a small, wrapped box fell to the ground. Dick came bounding around the corner right as Tim read the label (to: Timbo, from: D) and Tim smiled awkwardly as Dick urged him to open it.

“Go ahead, you’re looking at it like it’s a bomb.” Dick bounced on his toes.

“I, uh, didn’t get anything for you,” Tim lied because he had actually bought something four months ago but was planning on hiding it in Dick’s car so he’d only find it once back in Bludhaven. Tim learned his lesson on not giving gifts to grownups where they’d feel obligated to say something polite—his parents told him many times that his hovering was rude.

Tim opened the box gingerly, folding the wrapping paper meticulously and setting it inside his locker. Inside, was a gift card to a skate shop and a small Dr. Who keychain. It was the most thoughtful gift Tim had ever received in his fifteen years and he, embarrassedly, could feel his throat get tight.

“I hope it’s the right store?” Dick’s voice startled him and he quickly cleared his throat.

“Thank—uh—thank you. It’s perfect. I need to go home now but yeah. Thanks.” He said lamely. Dick’s smile looked a little tight around the edges but it was still genuine. “You sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?” But Tim was already out the door with a “thanks for asking but I have plans” because he was capital-F freaking out. Social niceties had never translated to social suaveness for Tim, and he had no idea what to do with the awkward space between receiving and acknowledging a gift.

The next time Tim received a wrapped present was his sixteenth birthday, from Bruce, and it ended up being a mind-bending adventure in deception and lifelong trust issues, which, regardless of whatever his mentor’s intention, didn’t really endear him to the tradition of gift-giving. So much so that Kon, Bart, and Cassie wrote wrapped presents?? on their list of Rob’s Triggers saved to their team’s hard drive. The team always managed to gift each other experiences anyway. When they weren’t, you know, dead.

Tim was gone during the holidays for his Bruce-quest, and the only wrapped gift he received that time was from Ra’s—which, better left unsaid, really—and when he returned, he was seventeen, and completely, utterly done with surprises.

So when he found himself on the top of Wayne Enterprises Christmas night, he was reasonably suspicious of the large box wrapped in green and tied with a gold ribbon.

To: Timbo, From: D

He hadn’t talked with Dick for over a month, and watching his brother emerge from the shadows with his hands up did nothing to calm his anxiety.

“Still not a bomb.” Nightwing said softly.

Tim watched the Christmas lights twinkle across the city, steadfastly ignoring the man behind him.

“It’s been awhile, baby bird.” Tim wanted to scoff but it alarmingly sounded more like a sob.

He didn’t startle when Dick’s hand landed on his shoulder, nor when he was pulled into a strong, yet gentle hug.

“I missed you,” his brother murmured into his hair.

“Yeah.” Tim said, which was enough.

After a moment, they pulled away, and Dick walked over to the gift. “Let’s do it together?” Tim nodded and they unwrapped the box, folding up the paper and laying it neatly on the ground.

A beat passed. Tim stared. Dick stared back.

“It’s been awhile, kiddo. Let’s raise some hell, huh. First one downstairs pays for dinner.”

(And if Bruce Wayne woke up to news that his offices had been toilet papered and completely covered in gingerbread scented shaving cream, that was nobody’s business but the two vigilantes eating reconciliation pancakes at 10 AM the next day.)

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]