Your Body Is A Temple, Drink Wine And Get Tattoos

Dick is the type of person to yell “Bruce catch!” And let go of his grapple while swinging full speed.

When Dick eventually left behind was fired from Robin he still continued swinging at Bruce, and Bruce never failed to catch him.

And when Jason became Robin, and Dick got mostly past Bruce giving his name to the kid. Dick told Jason stories about it, never showing him except once, when he and Bruce were on slightly better terms. Dick did it more forceful than usual.

It took Jason a month or two as Robin before he was comfortable enough with Bruce to trust him to catch him.

For Tim, they didn’t show him. But he’d picked it up from seeing Dick and Jason do it. The first time he did it, it damn near gave Bruce and Dick a heart attack.

For the short period Steph was Robin see never got the chance. But you bet she remedied that when she became Spoiler.

Damian was more hesitant. Always worried it would be a trick. Because it was an easy way to ‘accidentally’ cause him harm. But after seeing Dick, Tim, and Steph do it and be caught every time, he eventually gave in. You’d never catch him admitting it but that first moment wrapped in his Father’s arms as Bruce caught him for the first time, and the small smile Bruce gave him when he stepped away, that is one of his favorite memories.

Cause Bruce would always be there to catch him.

He couldn’t catch Jason, never again.

If you’re being questioned about a murder by one of those hobbyist detectives. it is an absolute rule that you have to be washing the dishes or pruning some plants while talking, so that when they finally get around to asking a pointed question about where you were at the time of the murder you can freeze for a second with a knife in your hand. It’s enrichment for them you gotta understand. They thrive off of red herrings, it’s their favorite treat, so even if you have a rock solid alibi and weren’t involved with the murder at all you have to give them some reason to be suspicious of you. It’s what friends are for.

“Truth” or dare

How about we play a game

Ask me a question

And I’ll give you a dare

I might tell you the truth

I might say a lie

But you can’t backdown

If I dare you to fly

It’s not fair

But a dare is a dare

And you can’t pretend

That you shaved your hair

You can’t fake playing chess

If I ever dared you to play

But if you asked me

How was your day?

What proves to you that it was really okay?

If you ask me about something that I miss

And I tell you my past mess

Would you believe me or detect a lie

Or would you just take a guess?

But seriously let’s play a game

I’ll ask you a question

You give me a dare

And the rules change every turn

If today was your last day

A few hours and you’ll pass away

What’s your biggest regret

Something you didn’t do or say?

You can reply with a truth or a lie

Now give me a reasonable dare to try

And remember

I’m a normal human who can’t really fly

"You're not upset that our alternate universe selves aren't together?"

"I don't know. Being together in every universe would make it seem... inevitable. I like that I chose you. I like that this version of you chose this version of me. Does that make sense?"

future archaeologists will know you were (not) a boy

jason: why are you looking at me like that?

damian, age 4, wondering why jason looks white if he's his brother: you're colored wrong

jason: what the fuck?

My average writing experience:

"Alright I think I'm almost done actually-"

*Google doc grows second health bar and a choir starts singing in latin*

*trying to solve a friend's problem* hmmm. well you could use me as a blade, perhaps? and slay your enemies? just a thought

"A society that separates its lore masters from its horny posters will have its headcanons written by prudes and its erotic fanfic by fools."

Me reading another person's writing: Oh they missed a period there, no worries mistakes happen :) Three adjectives in a sentence? Adverbs for days? No worries I love descriptions and this story is fire.

Me seeing the same thing in my work: Wow am I illiterate? Am I actually ok? Who the actual fuck told me I can write so I can go and curse their entire family for the time it took for me to carefully craft this GARBAGE.