Shorthands For Dumbassery That I Have Grown To Love Deeply

notes for my impostor syndrome:

• no, it's not painful to walk for abled-bodied people

• no, healthy people don't usually use every chance they get to lean against walls or sit down

• no, ableds don't dream about shower stool

• no, ableds don't celebrate days when they're not in pain. because usually they're not in pain

• no, ableds don't want to stop walking mid-way, lay down on the ground, curl up and cry and whine from pain

• no, ableds aren't exhausted by their own bodies 24/7

we dumped tea into the harbor for less

I found this prompt about aroace Danny and thought you might like to check it out.

https://www.tumblr.com/dcxdpdabbles/765333199553544192/you-know-what-would-be-really-fun-you-know-the

Ooh yes that is fun!

…though i’ll admit, the part of me that’s a fan of unhealthy unrequited love is a little disappointed the rejection was taken so well. Nothing actually wrong with it ofc, but just not my usual preference. So I wrote my own version with a slightly different path:

Several members of the Bat family were waiting impatiently in the drawing room for Jason’s return. He’d said he was going to ask Danny out today, and they couldn’t wait to hear how it went! They knew it would go perfectly; from their “research” into Danny, they were certain the pair would hit it off well! In fact, Jason had already used that information to successfully form a friendship with the other boy as a stepping stone.

…But then Jason stomped into the room and dropped onto a chair, letting out an angry huff and staring at his hands.

Dick was on his feet in an instant, stepping closer to Jason before pausing. “What happened?”

“He said no.”

“What?!”

Jason glared up at them. “Danny turned me down.”

“Did he say why?” Steph asked.

“No,” Jason grit out. “He just said ‘sorry’ and something about ‘I don’t’ or ‘I can’t’ or something like that then ran away.” His voice dropped to a mutter, “Wasn’t really paying attention after the first part.”

This time it was Tim who chimed in, “He said ‘can’t’? Maybe he wanted to but someone was threatening him! I can check the security cameras to see who’s approached him recently.”

“Or I could just ask him, you know?” Dick offered.

“A vigilante asking him about his dating life? That won’t be suspicious at all,” Jason commented sarcastically.

Dick blushed. “I– I mean—”

Steph rolled her eyes and cut him off before he could get any further. “Or maybe we could not go to the Bat option immediately? Just set up a few ‘coincidental’ meetings to talk to him, ask him a few friendly questions. Even if we don’t get direct answers, we might get some hints towards how you can win him over.”

Tim perked up. “Oh! I can bug him for you! Maybe that’ll help find info that wasn’t on his social media!”

“Stalker,” Jason chided affectionately. “But genuinely… thanks, guys. You’re right, this doesn’t have to be over! I can definitely find out a way to win his heart!”

***

Meanwhile, Danny lamented how long his new aroace pride pins were taking to ship. He’d lost his last ones while moving to Gotham, and he wished he still had them. Maybe he’d have had an easier time forming more than just a single friendship if he’d had a visual indicator that he was part of the community for other queer folks to see.

Cooked

I made a knife pi to celebrate

Amity Parkers are Kryptonians in the same way a de-feathered chicken is a man.

Summary; Clark's pretty sure the new intern, Samantha Manson, is secretly a Kryptonian.

But this isn't about him.

This is about Sam and her new, more interesting than Danny coworker; Jimmy Olsen.

~~~~~~

It was Sam’s first day as an Intern at the Daily Planet, and she’d found someone very interesting.

"Who is...Jimmy Olsen. What is Jimmy Olsen?" Sam muttered into her recorder as she watched the man in question hang upside down from a thirteenth story window, just to take a good picture of...something. A bird or a plane or someshit. 

"I hypothesize that the man is a freak," she continued, turning around and missing the bird-plane streak by in a blur of red and blue, "A level of freak I intend to meet."

~~~~~~

Jimmy had four arms now, as well as terrifying mandibles and way too many eyes.

Sam diligently took notes, making sure to translate his horrified, garbled screams as well as she could.

Unfortunately, Superman swept in and managed to nab the mad scientist and douse Jimmy in the cure at pretty much the same time.

~~~~~~

Sam was using her strength, as a human so contaminated with Ecto she was liminal, to hold Jimmy Olsen in the air by the ankle with one hand. The other hand? Was punching aliens in the face and yanking their weapons out of their hands.

Not that he was aware she was doing that, because he was so distracted with getting the perfect camera shot of the alien invaders of the week that he’d missed the one’s trying to sneak up on him.

Honestly, most of Sam’s concentration was on not squeezing her hand.

She didn’t want to break any bones, after all.

It was right as that thought passed her mind that Superman appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and scared the shit out of her, resulting in…her squeezing her hand.

Jimmy was in a cast for far longer than it took her or anyone else from Amity to recover from something as small as a broken bone.

~~~~~~

It was Tuesday, and true to form, Jimmy had been kidnapped.

Sam, as she had the past seven Tuesdays, made sure she was taken along for the ride. She’d even had to knock out the teeth of the head kidnapper to convince them that, as most people already knew, ignoring Samantha Manson was a terrible idea.

The kidnappers had let her in the van, refusing to meet her eyes. When she insisted they tie up her wrists, a few of them started crying, so she didn’t push it.

The entire drive to the typical decrepit warehouse, the kidnappers kept looking back at her and flinching. 

Wussies.

But she could put up with them being babies; as long as she got to study the enigma that was Jimmy, it was fine.

What wasn’t fine was the fact that when Superman swept in to save Jimmy Olsen again, the kidnappers pointed at Sam and said she’d kidnapped them.

“I only knocked out a few teeth, so what? They’ll grow back, it’s not a big-!”

“Oh, I get it now. No. No, Miss Manson, human adult teeth don’t grow back.” Superman said gently, going from aggressively confused to pitying.

Sam broke her hand on his jaw in response; she hated people pitying her. Also, she was more than a little embarrassed that she’d forgotten non-liminal people were slightly limited in the amount of teeth they could have.

Her hand healed in the normal amount of time for a person from Amity Park; two whole days.

~~~~~~

Jimmy was looking at her over their desks, trying to be sly about it.

Sam was pretending not to notice, slowly growing more and more annoyed.

“...Is there a problem?” She finally asked, slowly looking up to meet Jimmy’s eyes.

“How did you not shatter your hand when you punched Superman? Why do you think ‘human’ teeth grow back?” Jimmy responded, almost like those questions had been waiting on the tip of his tongue for who knew how long.

“I didn’t shatter my hand because I wasn’t actually trying to hurt him, and the other one…I made a mistake.”

Jimmy hesitated, pursing his lips and seeming to take a moment to think.

“So…if you tried to punch Superman, and you meant to hurt him, do you think you actually could?”

Sam leaned back in her chair, giving the question some thought.

Superman was notorious for being weak to magic, and liminality was just another form of death magic. Granted, it was a form of death magic so strong it mutated the living, but magic was magic.

“First off, I don’t fight for a living,” Sam started, shrugging; her days as one of Team Phantom were long past. “I used to, but I don’t anymore, so I’m not as…fighty, I guess, as Superman. But I could probably give him a black eye, if he was nice enough to let the punch land after letting me wind up.”

“Oh.” Jimmy said, voice slightly higher than normal. “Well alright then.”

“Yup.”

“So where are you from again?”

“Classified.”

~~~~~~

Jimmy, true to Jimmy form, had a new…situation.

It was Friday, and apparently he was being possessed by a minor god.

A minor god that was not cooperating.

“It’s a simple series of questions, and I realy don’t know why you’re fighting me on this.” Sam groaned, valiantly resisting the urge to throw her notepad at possessed Jimmy’s head.

“Please. I just want to go back to my realm, I won’t bother people in this one anymore, I just-”

“What are you the god of? What is your name? What was the purpose of possessing Jimmy Olsen? Why did you target Jimmy Olsen?” Sam reiterated, as she had been for the past seven hours. “Is Jimmy Olsen a beacon of some sort? Is there a curse on JImmy Olsen?”

Sam paused, a new thought occurring to her with such suddenness she gasped.

“Wait, is…is this an attempt to woo Jimmy Olsen?!”

“Please. Please just let me go!”

“Just answer the questions or I start pulling fingernails!”

“If you torture me in this form, the boy will also suffer!”

“First off, he’s a grownass man. Second, he’s a freak so he’ll be fine. Probably. Fingernails grow back anyways, it’s barely a pinch for humans, it doesn't hurt at all.”

“Miss Manson, please don’t refer to Mister Olsen as a freak. Also, you’re getting confused about human limitations again.” Superman added politely, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“No, I’m not! I googled it! Human fingernails grow back!” Sam spat, shrugging out from under the Man of Steel’s grip.

“Ma’am, your misjudging human limitations concerning pain.” Superman explained, strained but patient.

Sam paused.

Sam took a moment to remember two days ago, when Perry bumped his foot into one of the desks and spent a whole hour cursing.

All that just for a broken pinky toe.

“...Fine. You…might have a point.”

~~~~~~

The GIW sat across from Sam in a meeting room at the Daily Planet.

Apparently, dodging her court-mandated meeting with them by not going to her apartment just meant they’d turn up at her place of work.

Charming.

“And you’ve intruded on my basic rights because…?” Sam started the meeting, unimpressed.

“We have been trying to reach you for mandatory debrief for the past three months, Miss Manson. You know why.” Agent Tweedledee said, deadpan.

“Ugh. No, I haven’t  told anyone where I’m from. No, I haven’t used my powers in front of anyone. No, I haven’t broken any of your stupid, nonsensical rules.” Sam droned, tallying each point with a finger.

“Interesting. Our sources say they caught you…holding a grown man upside down with one hand.” Agent Tweedledee countered, also looking as bored as Sam felt.

Sam said nothing, continuing to stare at the agents.

“After which you crushed his ankle,” Agent Tweedledum added, pushing a folder with Jimmy Olsen’s X-Rays towards her.

“I don’t think you having these X-Rays is HIPAA compliant,” Sam said, pushing them back.

“I don’t think you understand how big of a security risk having you, any of you, blending in with normal humans is,” Agent Tweedledum said, pushing them right back at her. “And if this is how you’re going to try to ‘blend in’, then maybe we need to pull this initiative back. What’s next, casually flying to reach something on a tall shelf?”

“Indeed,” Agent Tweedledee said, leaning forward to get in Sam’s face. “Perhaps it would be better if the lockdown was re-initiated. An entire town of people like you…it’s too dangerous to just let you wander-” 

“Excuse me!” Clark Kent said, popping his head into the meeting room. Sam took a brief moment to clock that his eyes were glowing a little reddish, but otherwise he seemed normal.

Stressed, but normal.

“You are intruding-”

“I was just wondering if you had a warrant?” Kent cut in, blinking his eyes and readjusting his glasses. When he was done, the red had faded.

The agents paused, looking at each other.

“We don’t need one.” Agent Tweedledee said, deftly sweeping the folder full of X-Rays closed.

“Actually, you do,” an entirely new voice joined the fray, and some man who reeked of money walked in. He was wearing a stupidly expensive suit, and looked incredibly windswept for some reason.

Sam hated him on principle.

The Agents also seemed to hate him on principle, if how they started packing up was any indication.

“Hello, my name is Bruce Wayne, and I own the Daily Planet,” Bruce Wayne said, all fake smiles and fake cheer. “That makes this private property.”

“We have a government ordinance-”

“My private property,” Bruce Wayne interrupted, stopped a mere few inches away from the now standing Agent Tweedledee. “You don’t have a warrant. Get out.”

Sam stayed seated, eyeing the proceedings.

Contrary to what she expected though, instead of pulling out guns and threatening people, the Agents just walked around Bruce Wayne and started for the door.

“If Miss Manson goes missing?” She heard Clark Kent mutter to them as they passed, “We will post her name everywhere we can, as well as pictures of your faces.”

“What pictures?” Agent Tweedledum asked, right before a camera flash blinded the man.

“These pictures. Leave Miss Manson alone!” Jimmy spat, darting out of reach.

Past him, the entire office was full of silent reporters, standing and watching the agents.

“If they ever contact you again, or violate your rights again, call me,” Bruce Wayne muttered, handing her a card.

~~~~~~

Jimmy had become telekinetic. Somehow.

They’d been interviewing some scientist new to Metropolis, Sam had turned her back on him for all of four minutes, and when she turned around he was two feet off the ground, surrounded by random objects.

Honestly she hadn’t even been aware there’d been anything that could mess with humans in the lab, so she had no idea what he’d touched.

The scientist was rambling about how his invention worked, and that all he would need to do was initiate Jimmy’s ‘inner power’ to create a bomb so destructive even Superman couldn’t stop it.

Which proved her initial suspicions that he was an evil scientist, and surprised her not at all.

Sam calmly reached out and grabbed the scientist by the throat, cutting off his air supply.

“Shhh. Shut up. No more words from you. Jimmy, I have some questions, please cooperate.”

Superman didn’t even take four minutes to show up for that one.

Apparently, Superman gave Jimmy a button for when Sam ‘forgot how human limitations worked’.

She was confused, as she hadn’t even touched Jimmy, but then Superman had gently pried her fingers off of the mad scientist's neck. Who was unconscious.

Oh.

Right.

Humans, ones that weren’t tainted with Ecto, couldn’t go that long without oxygen.

~~~~~~

“It was self defense, I swear!” Sam shouted into the phone, running through the streets.

“What was self defense?!” Bruce Wayne shouted back, noises from his side of the call indicating he was scrambling for something.

“They had cuffs and a gun! I grabbed a thing and stabbed one of them with it and probably broke the other one!” Sam took a turn, dodging into an alleyway to buy more time as she outran the GIW unit trying to chase her down.

“Broke the other one’s what?!”

“I don’t know! It made a crunching sound and he started throwing up!”

“Miss Manson, there’s no way I can get there on time. Can you shout for Superman?”

“I tried, he isn’t here or someth-” Sam was cut off as a hand shot out from one of the doorways and yanked her inside.

Or, they tried to.

Sam snarled, turning and raising her fist…only to be met with the face of Jimmy Olsen.

“In here! Quickly!” He whispered, tugging at her arm again.

Sam jumped to follow, the door shutting behind her with a soundless click.

Four minutes later, a stampede of footsteps went past, not even slowing down to consider the door.

Panting, she took a moment to look around.

It was…the weirdest basement she’d ever seen. There were broken cameras hanging from the ceiling, rows of film cartridges lining metal shelves, and a glowing lock on the door she’d just been dragged through.

Most concerning was the Ghostspeak written on the glowing lock. Sure, it was in a weird dialect, but she’d recognize it anywhere.

“...Jimmy, tell me honestly. Are you in a cult?” Sam asked, still catching her breath.

“No? This is just one of my safespots. Superman helped me outfit it, because I…uh…”

“Get kidnapped or targeted at least three times a month. Understandable.” Sam finally noticed the shouting coming from her phone and put it up to her ear. “I’m fine; Jimmy has a safehouse or something, and apparently they can’t track me while I’m in it.”

“My lawyers are already on their way to the Daily Planet. Stay where you are, we’ll sort this out.”

~~~~~~

Bruce Wayne’s lawyers were, evidently, terrifyingly competent.

Sam Manson and all Amity Parkers who were allowed to leave for the experimental integration process no longer had to debrief.

They got social workers. They had rights. They were put into contact with the Office for Extraterrestrial Immigration.

The GIW backed off.

From what Tucker told her, still tucked away in Amity, the choices the GIW had were to either concede to those stipulations, or reveal the existence of Amity and its people.

Granted, Tucker had already spread the news that Amity Parkers were guaranteed rights outside of Amity, and that the GIW couldn't legally do anything about it. There were already people planning to escape.

Tucker, in fact, wanted to know if Sam could use a couple of roommates.

~~~~~~

“This is a ‘fork’; it is a utensil used for foods that are not liquid.” Clark Kent said seriously, half leaned over his desk and slowly showing off a plastic fork.

Sam stared at the fork, unimpressed.

“And this? This is an ‘elbow’. On humans, they’re only supposed to bend like this,” the man said, using his own elbow as an example. “They don’t bend any other way. Please. Please remember that.”

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“‘Eyes’ are very important to humans, and they do not grow back or heal very well when impaled.” 

Sam was officially bored.

“Now, ‘forks’ are not supposed to go into ‘eyes’,” Clark advised, holding the fork exaggeratedly far away from his face.

Lois, walking by, rolled her eyes.

“Gods forbid women do anything,” she muttered.

~~~~~~

“<<Woah. And you’re sure he’s not one of us?>>” Tucker asked, flipping through Sam’s ‘Jimmy Notepad’. They were taking a break from moving in, and Sam was excited to show them her Jimmy Notes.

“<<Completely.>>”

“<<Nah, he’s gotta at least be like Wes,>>” Danny disagreed, reaching out to go back a few pages and fully placing his weight against Tucker.

“<<Nope, his bones heal super slow and he can’t even regrow any teeth. Superman said so.>>”

“<<Bullshit! Look here, he clearly shapeshifted! Normal humans can’t do that!>>” Tucker said, jabbing his finger into her notebook with enough force that he almost poked a hole in it.

“<<Hey! Don’t ruin my stuff!>>”

“<<Guys c’mon, the buildings here are super delicate, we shouldn’t fight!>>”

“<<Foods here!>>” Clark Kent interrupted, sticking his head in the living room.

Sam, Danny, and Tucker all turned as one to head for the kitchen.

“<<...Wait, he wasn’t speaking English.>>” Danny muttered, pausing.

“<<I mean, neither were we?>>” Tucker asked, shrugging.

“<<Jimmy! Did you pick up my eggplant sandwich?>>” Sam shouted, shoving past her boys and into the kitchen.

Jimmy froze like a deer in headlights.

“Uh. I don’t know what you just…?”

“She’s asking if you remembered to pick up her eggplant sandwich,” Clark’s son, Jon, said as he dug through one of the bags.

“Oh! Yeah, of course.”

Sam decided that the Kents being able to speak Ghostspeak wasn’t really any of her business.

After all, Jimmy Olsen was far more interesting to study than them.

~~~~~~

“It’s Tuesday.” Sam grumbled, her foot tapping on the ground.

“Yes, it is.” Jimmy agreed, not seeming to pay attention.

“Where are they?” Sam asked, looking for the kidnappers that were supposed to show up.

“The numbers of attempted kidnappings have gone down because any group that would try is…well, they’re terrified of you.” Jimmy said, deliberately looking anywhere but at Sam.

Sam nodded, taking out her Jimmy Notepad.

His odd powers of luck seemed to be easily circumvented by just a few threats to outside sources. Interesting. So if she left, would his weird luck powers kick in again?

“I’m gonna leave for a few hours.” Sam said, standing up.

“It’s crunch time, Perry would kill you, and also that won’t work.” Jimmy droned, starting to sound bored.

“...Hey Jimmy, if I give you twenty bucks, would you go take pictures of a weird cult I heard about?”

“Miss Manson, no!” Clark Kent shouted from the other side of the newsroom. “I don’t know what you’re trying to convince Jimmy to do, but stop!”

~~~~~~

“I wanna fight Superman,” Danny said, staring up at the man in question as he fought off yet another super-powered bad guy.

“Please don’t do that while you’re holding onto me,” Jimmy asked politely, still taking pictures of the fight as Danny held him off the edge of a building.

“I’m Jimmy’s coworker,” Sam hissed, glaring at Danny. She was the one who helped Jimmy get into weird and concerning places for good photos, not Danny!

Danny smiled smugly at her, not putting the wayward photographer down at all.

“Yeah, but you broke both your arms blocking a punch, so nyeh.”

“They aren’t even compound fractures! The bones are still in place, they’ll heal in a couple of hours!”

“It hasn’t been a couple of hours though?” Tucker asked, briefly looking up from his phone.

Sam kicked him.

He kicked her back.

Neither noticed when Jimmy’s photos went from taking pictures of Superman’s fight to taking photos of their play fight.

~~~~~~

“Sam. Hey. Sam.”

Sam groaned and tilted her head back.

“What?”

“I don’t know what you are but…you can just break out of here, right?” Jimmy whispered, keeping himself between her and Lois, and the Big Bad Evil Guys of the month.

“I’m human, though?”

“I doubt that, though?”

“You’re so rude.”

“I’m so sorry that my concern for you is making me more to the point.”

Sam tried to make a comeback, but the low, pulsing green light of those stupid rocks seemed to magnify her headache. Those rocks sounded like millions of people screaming, and the emotional drain connected to them was really messing with her.

It took all of her concentration not to throw up, let alone get into a pseudo-argument with Jimmy.

“Whatever. What is that glowing green shit they have?”

“...It’s…it’s kryptonite. Uh…Sam? Hey, quick question, but are you…?”

“Not now Jimmy, I have a migraine bad enough to warrant murder.”

“I think we’re gonna have to figure this one out without Sam, Jimmy,” Lois muttered, already halfway out of her restraints.

“But she’s gonna be okay, right?” Jimmy whispered, tense against Sam’s back.

“She’ll be fine the faster we can get the Kryptonite away. Now, Jimmy, move!”

~~~~~~

“How long was she exposed?” A voice asked, adding to Sam’s headache.

“An hour? Maybe two?” Jimmy’s voice said, winded.

“Her color already looks better, Kal. I think she just needs to sleep it off.” Lois voice added, accompanied by someone brushing her hair out of her face.

“We need to keep an eye on-”

Sam interrupted Superman by throwing up on him.

He’d spoken long enough, anyways. It was time for blessed silence.

~~~~~~

Sam woke up in her own bed, with a very excited Danny barely able to contain himself next to her.

Apparently, Superman had shown up to drop her off, and Danny had misunderstood the situation.

Danny had actually gotten to fight Superman.

And even though Danny tried to downplay certain crucial parts of it, Tucker filled in what he was cutting out; Danny had gotten his ass handed to him.

Not before he’d broken the Man of Steel’s nose, though.

Which the halfa was very proud of.

“Kinda gross that he was covered in throw-up, though,” Danny conceded after a few hours, nose wrinkled. “Oh yeah; your Jimmy is in the living room, asleep.”

“On the couch, right?” Sam asked, still annoyed by remnants of her headache.

“...I mean. I was using the couch, so…” Tucker muttered, defensive.

“You didn’t make the squishy, normal human with normal human bones and normal human joints sleep on the floor, right?”

Danny coughed slightly, standing up.

“I’ll go put him on the couch.”

“Daniel James Fenton you better be careful, he’s delicate!”

~~~~~~

Sam was forced to take that back when she went over the security footage Tucker had gathered.

Jimmy Olsen had carried her through an enemy compound on his back, gotten into multiple fights at a clear disadvantage, and even made various pit stops to check Sam’s pulse and breathing.

With a deep sigh, she pulled out her Jimmy Notepad again.

“Why does he always disprove my theories and then add just as many new ones?”

~~~~~~

Jimmy was speaking the most mangled form of ghostspeak Sam had ever heard in her life.

“...You want to lick all the blue pebbles?” Sam translated for him into English.

Jimmy groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“Nevermind. I’m just…really bad at learning new languages.” He sighed, shoulders slumped in defeat. “Superman really tried to teach me but…”

“What were you trying to say?”

“...’What kind of coffee do you want?’.”

"<<What kind of coffee do you want?>> is how you're supposed to pronounce that."

Jimmy tried to repeat it. Tried.

What came out was…well.

Sam felt her jaw drop along with the papers she was holding, rage building at the insult that just left Jimmy’s mouth.

Across the room, Clark Kent broke into a coughing fit so bad he was almost gagging.

“I messed it up again, didn’t I?”

“I think you should go get coffee. Away from me. For about an hour or two.”

“What did I say?!”

@stealingyourbones

I thought of another DannyxBatpham where Danny doesn't get adopted or romantically involved:

To try and maintain some sense of normalcy for young Dick once he's settled in at the Manor, Bruce gets him involved in gymnastics. Of course, this eventually means competitions. And high level competitions all over the country.

The first competition out of state, he wins but it is a CLOSE thing. Too close. Who the hell is this dude out of Illinois? What do you mean his home practice is on the local park's JUNGLE GYM???

Or Danny started up gymnastics (for plot reasons, isn't he considered clumsy in canon? Or is that just a cover?) and found out he's actually pretty good! And it's fun! His parents are more present when competition is involved and he doesn't miss a single one. He and Dick go back and forth at every competition they're both at. It's a toss up as to who is going to win every time. And Dick kinda low-key hates how good Danny is, because he's pretty sure if Danny had his background and resources, he'd be winning every time. But Danny is also the absolutely sweetest and is always the loudest voice cheering for him and the first to congratulate him. They even strike up a little bit of a pen-pal thing.

So why does Danny suddenly quit in the middle of Freshman year?

I see a lot of prompts and fics that operate on the premise of Danny being the world's first hero so everyone in the Justice League looks up to him. But what if he wasn't? What if, instead, he was the first villain? Not literally, he's not a bad person, he genuinely tried and did help people, he did protect Amity Park and the world. But what if the GIW won? What if his parents react poorly to a reveal? What if, instead of being hailed as the world's first hero, he's seen as the world's first villain, one who the GIW and Dr's Fenton worked together to trap in their version of a sarcophogus of forever sleep? One who they claimed was brutal and cruel and no one should ever let out because he has the power to destroy the world? What if the JL and JLD get word that someone (maybe his friends, maybe his sister, maybe a cult well meaning or otherwise) is trying to release the world's first villain and they're trying to stop them from doing it because obviously it's the world's first and possibly worst villain, he can't be set free. And what if it WASN'T like the sarcophagus of forever sleep? What if he was awake the whole time?

how the fam find out Jason's still alive

Dick, looking through old photo books: aw, it's such a shame Talia didn't tell B about you until recently Dami, I'd have loved to see photos of you as a baby

Damian: ? I can get baby photos if that is required in this family

Dick: what, how? Talia doesn't seem like the baby-book kind of woman, no offense.

Damian: She was not, however after my brother was brought out of the Lazarus pit he was given a few old cameras in an attempt to make his mind focus on something not harmful to himself and settle down. He took a lot of photos of our family during his training.

Dick:

Bruce:

Both, simultaneously: your what now?

-later-

Damian, walking into the room with an old box: Alright so I broke into his current safe house while he was working and took one of the boxes. I believe these should suffice for your 'baby books'

Bruce: hold on you broke into his- your brother lives in Gotham??? there's a trained league assassin working in this city and you didn't tell me? Damian we need to talk about your habit of withholding important infor-

Dick: Bruce.....

Bruce: -mation. what?

Dick: look at the.... photo...

Bruce, leaning over to see a photo of Jason Todd holding baby Damian up at the head of a meeting table like in the lion king, red smear on his forehead, while Ra's Al Ghul stares at them both from his seat looking Tired Of Jason's Shit™:

Damian, peering at the photo: yes, Todd got quite good with the timers on those cameras, he took many a photo holding me like that. I believe it was a special campaign designed to get on grandfather's nerves enough that he'd agree to watch the movie with us.

Bruce:

Dick:

*screaming*

bonus:

Tim: you know some of these photos are actually really good, like the angles and tones you used

Jason: you steal Robin, I steal photography.

Tim:

Love and Obsession: The Tim Drake Way

part 2

Everyone in the Batfamily knows Tim Drake has… issues with boundaries. They’ve spent years trying to teach him what’s appropriate and what’s—well—deeply unsettling and completely invasive. To be fair, he’s learned. Mostly. He doesn’t stalk his family anymore (much), and he no longer pulls up files on every single person they talk to (okay, maybe just sometimes). But it’s progress.

But then Tim starts dating Danny Fenton. And, oh boy, a few screws come loose.

It starts small, as always. Just little things. Tim’s a detective, after all—background checks are second nature. Danny’s living in Gotham, and Gotham isn’t safe. So, really, what’s the harm in knowing a little more about Danny’s friends? And his professors? And maybe also his classmates? It’s just standard protocol. Okay?

“Tim, you’ve run a full dossier on my entire biology class?” Danny asks one day, laughing as he flips through a file on the coffee table. Tim shrugs. “What if one of them is dangerous?” “Pretty sure the most dangerous thing in that class is the midterm.”

Danny doesn’t think much of it. He’s a little flattered, even. Tim’s protective. It’s sweet.

But Tim’s mind doesn’t stop there. Danny’s too handsome. Too charming. What if someone tries to hurt him? What if someone tries to take him away? It’s not obsessive—it’s just concern. So, a tracker on Danny’s phone? Necessary. Cameras in his apartment? Standard. Monitoring his sleeping patterns and hangout spots? Logical.

Tim tells himself it’s love. And maybe a little insecurity.

“You have a tracker on his phone?” Dick asks, trying not to sound alarmed. Tim nods, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Of course. What if something happens to him?” “And the cameras?” “Safety.” “The background checks on his professors?” “Gotham U isn’t exactly known for its stellar staff, Dick.”

It doesn’t stop there. Tim knows everything. Danny’s eating habits, his favorite places to go when he’s stressed, his childhood allergies. Tim’s mapped out Danny’s entire life. He knows about Danny’s ghost powers too—of course he does. He’s Tim Drake. The moment he realized Danny was Phantom, it just… clicked.

Danny being half-ghost? That’s just one more reason to worry. Tim’s up late at night, watching for any signs of ectoplasmic interference. He tracks the energy spikes. He monitors Danny’s fights.

He doesn’t think Danny knows. He’s terrified of what will happen if he finds out.

But then he does.

One evening, Danny walks into Tim’s apartment and casually drops a folder on the table. Tim’s heart stops.

“What’s this?” Danny asks, raising an eyebrow. Tim swallows hard. “I… it’s just…” “You’ve been tracking me?” Danny opens the file, glancing through pages of surveillance reports, background checks, even analysis of his ectoplasmic energy. Tim feels like his world is about to shatter.

“I… I can explain,” Tim says, his voice tight. “I’m just… worried about you. You’re in danger all the time, and I—” Danny walks over, cupping Tim’s face in his hands. Tim braces for the worst.

But Danny just smiles. “Can I put a tracker on you too?”

Tim blinks. “What?” Danny kisses his cheek. “If you’re watching my back, it’s only fair I watch yours. I need to make sure you’re safe too.”

Tim stares at him, speechless. Danny doesn’t look scared. Or angry. He looks… fond. Like Tim’s obsessive tendencies aren’t a problem at all.

“I’ve never had someone care about me this much,” Danny says softly. “I trust you with my life, Tim. This? This just proves how serious you are.”

Tim thinks he’s just fallen deeper in love.

-------------------

The Batfamily? They’re worried.

Jason corners Tim in the cave. “Okay, so let me get this straight. You’ve got cameras in his apartment. You’ve mapped out his entire life. You’ve got a tracker on him and a heartbeat monitor. And he’s… fine with it?” Tim nods, a dreamy smile on his face. “Yeah. He even wants to put a tracker on me.” “That’s not… healthy, Tim,” Dick says carefully. “That’s—” “It’s mutual,” Tim interrupts. “We’re protecting each other.”

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. “Tim, this isn’t how relationships are supposed to work.” Tim shrugs. “It’s how ours works.”

Damian watches the whole thing with narrowed eyes. “This is deeply unsettling,” he mutters.

They try to talk to Danny. Intervention style. They invite him over, sit him down, and gently (or not so gently) try to explain that Tim’s behavior isn’t normal.

Danny just laughs. “You guys do know I’m half-ghost, right?” “That doesn’t mean—” Dick starts. “I spent my entire life being hunted by ghost hunters. I’ve had worse invasions of privacy.” Danny smiles. “Tim cares. He keeps me safe. That’s all I need.”

The bats don't quite know what to say.

-------------------

Tim and Danny, two slightly unhinged souls who think mutual surveillance is the ultimate act of love.

The bats? They’re just trying to keep up.

(“At least they’re happy?” Barbara offers weakly. Bruce sighs. “For now.”)

Gotham’s version of love was never going to be normal. But this? This is a whole new level.

They know instantly.

I want Danny, in king Phantom form, to meet Billy, in his hero form, and for them both to immediately know that they other isn't the age they present themselves as.

They then proceed to troll the whole League into believing that they've been friends for eons.