"ayy, happy birthday!" jaime's voice calls out as his feet touch the ground of the roof of dick's apartment building. the pastry box in his hands is slightly dented - he'd regretted flying over to blüdhaven as soon as he took off, having to take a couple tight detours to dodge the chaos that always found itself right at home in gotham. khaji removes jaime's mask and the man reaches over to wrap an arm around dick before peeking inside the box. inside is a cake, with its bright blue icing ... smeared all over the inside of the package. "damn. sorry, i think i might have to bubble wrap it next year."

dick's only got a second to look UP before his vision swims with blue, the voice of a friend immediately calming any alarm bells that might've rang. " jaime! " he all but cheers, pleasantly surprised to have run into blue beet.le on his humble bludhaven roof. dick returns the hug in earnest, pulling back when a tuft of curls appears from the disappearing mask to reveal a familiar, smiling face. he looks down when jaime does, at the blue mosaic painted within the confines of the box walls and his heart warms, just a little, that he must've flown all this way just to say happy birthday. he shakes his head, still grinning widely. " bet it still tastes the same! " is his immediate remedy, because not only did he not care about a little bit of a mess, he was honored and touched jaime made it all this way out just for some cake. dick nods at their usual seats on the ledge, an invitation to stay and hang out while they tested his theory. " but of course, we'll have to taste test to be sure. " taste test ALL of it, really, to get the full picture. " wanna split? "

"happy birthday!" the box peter's holding is (messily) wrapped in Teen Titans Go! (tm) paper, but folded up inside it is a superman themed scarf - and then a custom-printed shirt that reads 'parker-grayson' in bold font. "i have a matching one."

dick has no idea WHO in their general vicinity sells TEEN TITAN.S GO! wrapping paper, but he cuts through it at the seem to preserve all the glorious horror that is his (supposedly) animated self and team. " they get my voice all wrong. " he jokes, knowing that this is a topic his friends have heard far too many times (and one they'll keep hearing). his smile lights up once he's unwrapped though, eagerly wrapping the warm superman scarf around his neck and holding up the shirt to read, and teasingly frown at, the gifted shirt in question. " think you might need a refund, pete. looks like there's a typo. "

it's late into the day when jason shows at dick's front door, that he thinks he's almost missed him. surely he must have other things to do on his birthday, friends to spend it with, jason is hoping he's lucky enough to've caught him before or after. with either hand encumbered he yells after his brother, "dick! ... open up, richard!" and when that hadn't summoned him fast enough, jason smacks his brow against the door three times to knock. granted, not one of his better ideas, for when the door is swung open jason greets dick with a grin full of teeth, and a reddening brow. "got plans?" he asks with his arms lifting in gesture, to show in one hand a little cake with crude writing and the other two six-packs of questionable craft beer. what remains unseen, which jason will leave in secret, is a little box and a card inside his jacket pocket, wherein is written a sentiment of gratitude for having dick as an older brother ⸻ better than what jason ever gave him credit for.

he can pass it off as imagining things for exactly one minute. the exact minute between the call of his name on a usually quiet blud street, and the minute it takes to walk from the kitchen to the window and not see a single soul down there. damn. maybe all those old people jokes his friends and younger siblings made had some weight to them --- but no, his mind and ego are SAVED by the thunder of knocks from his closed front door. dick opens the door to the (slightly reddened) grinning face of his brother. his own eyebrow lifts comically, having put the pieces together quickly of his currently occupied hands, slowly healing face and suspiciously timed knocks. well, there's no saying he didn't know how to use his head. " i do now. " he answers gratefully, throwing the door open wider as a means of invitation, reaching for one of the packs to hopefully encourage the use of hands in all hand-centered activities. he's smart enough to know the reasons to visit bludhaven were few and far between, but he says " didn't know you were in town. " all the same. and that idea comforts him. like a heated blanket on a frozen night, it's something about the idea that his little brother might've wanted to see him, just to hang out. he knows there's a time and place for sentimentality and that over a pack of beers maybe not be chart-topping, but well, it's his birthday, and he's going to justify anyway. dick claps a hand on his brother's broad shoulder, hoping the gratitude shows when he says " it's good to see you, jay. "

‵   hey, shortpants ! i heard it's your birthday ...  ʹ he tries to be nonchalant about it but his clammy hands beg to differ, shifting in it's midst a tiny carved wooden robin he'd worked hard on from the moment he'd snooped into his file and found out his date of birth. the truth of it was that the titans were the first instance roy had found friendship since he'd left the reservation, and despite his often turbulent and, at times, violent clashes with their leader ⸺ he had to admit that he had become closest to dick in spite of their ample differences. ( and their even greater similarities, though they'd both prefer to ignore the existence of any ) ‵   here. i had this lying around from when i was crafting arrows and got distracted. it reminded me of you, so i guess y'should have it. ʹ he presses the wooden figure into his chest, pivoting quickly as he makes a hasty escape, chin tucked down to hide his reddening cheeks.

dick was just about done for the day. he'd trained, finished his notes on their last mission, and even started prepping for their next one, but there was only so much 'stalling' he could do before it just became wasting time. by now, alfred was surely finished with the 'dinner' (read: 'surprise' party with alfred, bruce and probably clark) and he wouldn't have to politely hide in the cave for an hour now. he's heading to his room, to grab some of the things he wanted to bring home this weekend when he hears the call. surprise teases at his features as he really hadn't expected anyone else to be at the base today, and maybe most of all, not SPEEDY. they called him neurotic but dick thought checking the logs to see who was coming in & who had taken off to just be good practice. his eyebrows crinkle a bit because he surely didn't expect him to have 'heard' it was his birthday, considering how close to the vest bruce plays every card. even still, even not knowing the real source of his findings: he doesn't question it. in fact, the thought warms him, mostly, because adverse as they were to admit it, it confirmed what they'd figured out some time ago now: roy was his friend. a good one, even, and the idea he'd put thought into finding and getting something for dick on his confidential birthday unfurled the tight coil ever present in his stomach to something . . . nicer. " oh. " he says, mind unable to work as fast as he would've liked. when the object touches his palms, he gets to open it, bringing it closer to his face to inspect what he now recognizes as . . . A ROBIN. oh. it's near exact the ones dick used to see back when he toured the world with haly's, and it's got these little notches and grooves where dick can see an expert set of archer's hand had to have hand-crafted them. by the time his awe wears off a bit and his face is not pressed so closely to the intricacies of the design, his gaze only falls on the back of the archer's head. neck red, he imagines from exertion and whatever it was that had him in such a time crunch that dick barely has time to shout " thanks, speedy! " before he's turned the corner and out of sight. dick suppresses a grin at that, because for all that roy 'found it lying around', the craftsmanship spoke to something much different. with a smile on his face and a new lightness to his steps, he finally enters his room --- gently placing his new robin on the most prominent shelf. all in all, a pretty great birthday.

then i guess you'll have to SAVE yourself !

written by noct .

He leaves his present wrapped up in front of his apartment door. A simple note scribbled on a card that said, "Happy Birthday, chum. More years to come. - B" And under all that wrapper he'll find a framed picture of him with his parents during their earl circus days. An old one, the grain and age still obvious in the image despite how it ahd been blown up and restored to fit the 16 by 20 ornate frame. :)))

dick could recognize that handwriting from space. blindfolded, the paper burned, nothing to go on but a single letter, dick would know who this was from. he gives a happy kind of sigh, the weary voice of a son who insisted he didn't need presents vs. the caring persistence of a father who wanted to anyway. dick holds the present til he's inside, unwrapping it unusually gently until he sees his own face reflected back at him. it's been years --- so many they blend together and he starts to question his own memories and yet even still, when dick brings a shaky hand to trace his mother's face he realizes his vision is blurry with tears. he hadn't gotten to keep much of anything after that night, and so much had been lost since then but THIS? this was priceless. a quality so thoughtful he could see his mom's laugh lines, and the way his dad used to smile for pictures. it was a memory so distant he thought he'd never see it again, and strikingly, so like b to have worked so hard to find it. it takes some time. from the initial opening of the gift to being able to see properly without testing the 'waterproof' listing of his phone, but eventually he's able to open his texts and send a simple 'thank you.' that could never carry the kind of weight he needs it to. maybe he'll just have to visit home sooner rather than later... 'room for one more at the manor this weekend?'

it's an easy task for her to break into his bludhaven apartment, even with a delicate parcel held precariously in one hand as she pries open the window. the simple white box from a local bakery, complete with hastily tied ribbon and a truly abysmal attempt at a bow, is left in the kitchen for him to find. the box of cake is accompanied by a small superman keychain she found a few weeks before, because she thinks he'll find it funny --- it was that or batman, and she thinks that'd be too risky. and with that, she beats a hasty retreat back out the window with no plans to acknowledge she was the one to leave the gift to begin with.

it's late by the time dick finally makes it home. dwindling night hours casting deep shadows on his apartment, and he's so tired he makes no move to turn the lights on so nothing slows him in his quest for a quick nap. and yet, he can sense the change. dick is in no means a 'neat and tidy' kind of person, but he remembers what his apartment looked like when --- is that a box? upon further inspection there's a matching bow, even, and the familiar red-blue logo of his favorite uncle hanging from a novelty keychain. dick lets out a fond laugh. there's no note --- of course there isn't but dick remembers the bakery, knows who has access to his security measures, and most importantly, recognizes the gesture. he cuts off a slice, blissfully enjoying the delicacies of the best spot in blud, and figuring out how to chew through a smile that just won't go away. he walks away with thank you plans queuing up for their post-patrol ritual, humming pleasantly as he goes. game on, rose.

"happy birthday, old man! got you something for your joints," but he slaps down a tiny container of vicks, because he actually has no idea what the specific purposes of human OTCs are and reading would have been too much work. ( the joke is that he's old, and kon clearly thinks its funny ).

" ha, ha " dick pretends to brood, but the smile kind of ruins the vibe when he reaches for his 'present' anyway. honestly, now that kon mentioned it, dick did kinda need... NO, he couldn't lose this age battle, only a day into his new number. snap out of it, grayson! " should i just pass it back to you tomorrow? "

90's superboy rp? you got it!

this is my totally on purpose and very cool promo, please reblog it #stanculture💙

"happy birthday, dick." regulus hands him a neatly-wrapped box with metallic black paper, bound with a teal bow. it contains a black domino mask with rainbow-print BIRTHDAY BOY patterned all over it.

" well, one of us is going to have to change " he jokes, pretending to pull a mask from one of the utility pockets on the back side of his belt. UNFORTUNATELY, he wasn't telepathic enough to know the exact happenings of today but he's sure, SURE he'll make up for it next year. " thanks, reg. " and of course, dutifully, puts in on.

“ happy birthday richard, may your soul settle in the experience of another year, ” she extends a small blue box, decorated by a small darker bow, within it lies an aromatherapy set concocted by the dyad with scents meant to improve clarity and focus ( and secretly, peace ). an unusual present for such recipient, but raven juggled his wants with his needs. “ there is no physical gift that can measure my care for you, but i hope it serves you well. ”

an understanding of widespread birthday customs means he shouldn't be as surprised as he is. and yet still, his hands accept the present on autopilot, surprised mouth going from an 'o' to an appreciative smile, eyes finding hers when he says " you didn't have to get me anything. " in the way he did every time march 20th rolled around. when he opens it, there's a little blossom of happiness that unfurls in his chest because it's something so distinctly RAVEN, and given with such care to him. everything raven did was purposeful and thoughtful, but the idea that might extend to him as well made him feel warm and at peace. his smile twists into something touched, a free hand come to rest on her shoulder when he says " i love it, thank you. "

happy birthday kid :)

thanks DAD :)

Yeah, today is the day!!!

dick raises his hands like that could physically absolve him of any guilt. " i tried. " is all he gives, unable to keep his interest truly tapered down in what was sure to be a spectacular fall. roy harper could defy him all he wanted like a child touching a hot stove --- he'd learn soon enough. so confident that the archer's hubris alone would crack the tree like the great wrath of zeus, dick squints back up to his friend, smirk playing at his lips when he confirms with a smug: " ANYTHING. " probably. bruce still hadn't forgotten, and certainly not forgiven their last attempt to joy-ride the batmobile and as such getting his hands on any piece of bat-tech that might interest the bow wonder was probably under bat-lock and key. but that didn't matter. when roy's unintentional canonball rocks the pillars of the dock, dick won't be thinking of gotham at all. just the sweet, sweet taste of victory and how often he was going to FLAUNT IT. then again, roy always was crafty. and stubborn. so of course he'd find a will and a way, and from there all dick grayson can do is watch, gaze following the descent--- the flips with a wry twist of lips. sometimes it seemed like roy harper was BORN to prove him wrong. and yet, for some reason --- maybe it's the warmth of summer or the relaxation of the lake house, just this once he doesn't even mind. roy makes an easy path back to the dock, keeping himself afloat just next to where dick's legs were lazily tracing circles in the water and he uses an eye roll as an excuse to look away from the sharp line of roy's throat --- sun kissed and dripping with lake water when he throws his head back to get copper hair out of his face all too victoriously. " i don't know how, but you cheated. " he teases, leaning in, arms on his thighs to talk to the archer. he even stoops low enough to flick at the water, just enough to direct a few drops towards the archer. " and i just don't know how i feel about rewarding cheaters. "

climbing a tree for fun was much different than preparing for a stake-out ⸻ where the importance of finding a branch supple enough to accommodate his weight ( plus that of his bow and quiver full of arrows ) would be crucial were he on a mission, it doesn't matter much now when his intended destination was the serene body of water below all the same. he refuses to heed any warnings in the name of showboating, stooping low before his target branch up high on the spruce as he measures how swift he needed to be to jump before it splintered and broke. ‵ rob, shut up. ʹ he hisses at Dick's continued naysaying, sharpshooter's gaze narrowed with ultra-sharp focus as he studies the stretch of space with a calculating attention. what the Boy Wonder doesn't seem to understand about him yet is that the more Roy Harper is told he can't do something, the more appealing said act becomes.

going through with the trick becomes all the more enticing once a bet ups the ante. a secret smile plays on Roy's lips as the cogs in his brain begin to plot, the sight of it safely ensconced by distance and leaves. ‵ anything, huh ? ʹ he echoes back, a spritely laugh rumbling belly-deep as he straightens into a runner's slant. he takes as graceful a leap towards the center of the thin branch as his heavy steps allow, swiftly bouncing with the spring it gives before it starts to break. he uses the split to his advantage, foot pressing firmly to gain height before tucking himself into a ball mid-air in a way he'd seen Dick do so many times before, achieving a flip and three-quarters before he begins to unravel into a swan dive headed straight towards the tepid depths below. the archer swims back up to the surface quickly to take a big breath, stroking swiftly after towards the dock to rejoin the acrobat. Roy folds his arms over the dock beside where Dick sat, shaking his hair out like a wet dog with the intent of getting the maximum amount of water droplets on the other. ‵ not as pretty as yours but .... i reckon that had to have had at least one spin. ʹ

" i think it keeps him going too. " dick laughs, sharing a knowing look with lois. the idea of the world's greatest detective absolutely floundering at a pointed look from one of the best reporters. (floundering for b looking like the subtle quirk of a pointed bat-brow. a tell only a special few could read) " keeps him on his toes. " he says absently, returning the smile in kind --- widening when he thinks, and says: " and humble. " which, for as much as dick loves, truly loves his mentor, even he can admit it is sometimes needed. bruce was an incredibly private guy. batman impossibly more so, so it's the greatest of betrayals when he says " and i think he likes knocking on your door. we've definitely 'been in the area' and 'might as well say hello' more than any other person on this planet." or off it, for that matter. and considering bruce didn't like leaving gotham for a whole lot, dick understood the weight behind the sentiment. sure, maybe a decent amount of that was dick's own enthusiasm. the childish kind where he would poke at bruce and pretend he'd left something in smallville they just HAD to immediately get, or even his teenage self who just so happened to 'need a second opinion' at increasingly frequent rates. in that, dick and bruce had a silent sort of agreement. the conversation brings a question to his mind though. both intrigued and amused: " did you say something to him recently? "

❛ you know what keeps me going ? ❜ she pauses for a moment , smiling . it's smug , almost sheepish . but this is award is bigger than any pulitzer . a chuckle leaves her lips , plating up more food for the familiar visitor . ❛ i scare batman . . . and he'll never admit this , but i did beat the crap out of him too . ❜ she pauses again , thinking . nodding to herself , smiling .

❛ i'm pretty sure we're the only house in the world he has to knock on the door to enter . personal boundaries , he needs to learn . ❜

@fightwing liked for a small starter .

dick was losing his mind. there was no other explanation. no reason why he kept closing his eyes and opening them to the same date on his phone. to the same notifications, the same newsreel, the same day played over and over and over and over. the only difference was peter. the same peter, sure, but the only thing . . . the ONLY thing that changed was peter's demeanor. like dick, he seemed to become more desperate as the days (day) pass, and today, well THIS MOMENT'S today was the day dick found out if they were alone, together. peter's head ducks in a rare display of embarrassment and dick --- even though he thinks he knows where this is going, wants to remedy it immediately. smooth that little frustrated dip between his brows, tell him not to worry --- he'd already solved it! but he couldn't. in fact, dick had gone through just about every idea he'd had already and was in his own right, feeling quite desperate. " i promise. " he says anyway. accented by a purposeful squeeze of peter's clasped hands. a connection to both ground them to this moment and together, because if it was something else --- if dick was truly in this alone and without his best friend, dick wasn't sure what options he'd have left. this spark of possibility was so strong, and the only thing tethering him to hope. so if he were to lose it, his sanity would go with it. like a gust of wind and a balloon, dick would never get it back. it's only half relief. but ultimately, that side wins and his shoulders drop with a sigh and he laughs only a little crazily. the same day repeating over and over and over had quickly gone from a silly little coincidence to an inescapable monotony, and now, he thinks they've always been able to save each other. so, why not now? dick holds peter's hands tighter, sad for his friend to meet the same fate but there's something to be said about misery & company. " yeah, pete. i think i do too. "

@fightwing ASKED : "you can't lie to me. i can tell when you're lying."

dick's always been way too good at reading people. something picked up from batman, if peter had to guess. coupled with how long they've known each other, the fact that they live together, he never stood a chance.

it's just — he's going to sound crazy. but peter remembers it so clearly, in a way he wouldn't with the all too familiar nightmares he's used to. not a dream, but a memory. the panic settling in as the world crumbled down around them. they couldn't save everyone in time. peter couldn't save everyone.

he remembers thinking, on repeat; not again, not again, not again. and then he'd woken up back in his bed to the exact same news reports from earlier in the day.

his head ducks, just slightly. brows furrowed. hesitates, his fingers threaded together. " promise you won't think i'm insane for saying this? " which might be a big ask. if there was anyone who'd faced just as much of the strange and impossible as him, though, nightwing, leader of the titans and his best friend would understand. probably.

" i think ... i know what's going to happen today. "

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