Spoony is offered some help in the inevitable fight against the Black Lantern Spoony...but is he willing to accept it?

Krypto likes to take care of Kon as much as Kon likes to take care of Krypto. When Kon is hungry, Krypto fetches him food. When Kon is sleepy, Krypto fetches him blankets. And when Kon is horny, Krypto fetches him Tim. Which leaves Kon the not-so-fun job of awkwardly explaining to Red Robin why he's been dragged to Smallville in the middle of the night by a well-meaning superdog.

Kon has a crisis. Tim wears pajamas.

Tim doesn't encourage the public, they do it themselves.

"His name is Tim and I think my dick will never understand the difference between fear and arousal again."

"Yeah. Thanks. Just what I need. Black lipstick."

ne dislocated shoulder and two minor intergalactic incidents later, and all Tim wants is a shower, a mushroom and swiss cheeseburger, and a blowjob, preferably in that order.

Bruce Wayne is either really bad at Twitter, or really, really good.

The Batfamily go to see Hamilton.

Tim has a thing for buying sex toys (in bulk, Jason suspects) and Jason is constantly putting his foot in his mouth about what things his lover likes.

Jason's the Red Hood and being the Red Hood gives him sex magic. Duh.

"This is the fortieth time." Jason says, "Just to point that out. I'm not complaining, or anything."

Twenty is probably too young to die, even for a shinobi, but if anyone can kill Sakura with sheer attractiveness, it's Kori.

“Why does the paper say you're dating?” Dick asks, waving the Sunday edition in Bruce's face. Bruce doesn’t let his expression so much as twitch. Dick can sense blood in the water the same way a shark can, and he knows Bruce far too well. “Does it?” he asks mildly.

Jason wrestles the crazy, half-feral ninja to the ground ten blocks from the building he blew up with magic, which means it’s probably a Thursday in Gotham.

Hardison is 100% certain that there is no way Bruce Wayne could possibly be Batman. But maybe they should check it out, just in case.

“You know, just out of curiosity,” Red Robin begins, and Jason twists to face him, “are you from Gotham?” “What gave it away?” Jason drawls as fire sirens start up in the distance. “My anger issues, or my apathy in the face of the new supervillain flavor of the week?” (Or: That time Jason moves to New York and becomes a meme.)

“Quick! How do I help an omega that’s nearing critical heat?” Jason asked. “What?’ Roy asked. “The hell ya need to know that for?” “Because I got one with me right now and-- Ah!! Hands! Hands!” Or the one where Jason goes to drop off groceries at the Nest only to get dragged into helping Tim through a critical heat while Roy gives advice from the sidelines.

The costume version of the Red Robin uniform that Cass provided Jason with has been altered to fit his proportions. The fabric is form-fitting but not uncomfortable, and the bandoliers snap across his chest without issue… except for the sordid way they frame his pecs. Between the chest action, the absence of a cup, and the feathered cape, he really feels like he's about to turn tricks. But, well… he can't complain. At least he has it better than Tim.

I, ___________________________, hereby acknowledge that this form represents my wishes should I contract phytoaphrodisiac-induced delirium (hereafter referred to as “PAID”) during engagements with or while apprehending Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley (“Poison Ivy”). - The bats have a sex pollen release form. Because of course they do.

"It's just basic coping skills," Jason scoffs. "Have none of you ever met someone with ADHD before?"

Maybe it was because he didn’t have time to read the gossip columns; maybe it was because he seriously underestimated the audience’s power to “Ship It”, but Bruce didn’t *immediately* cotton onto the fact that his scheme made half the country think that his son was in love with, well, his *other* son.

Tiny Tim: all i want is for someone with a monster cock to fuck my brains out until im drooling, is that too much to ask? He sets his phone down and makes it about 5 seconds into reorganizing the granola bar shelf before realizing his fatal error. With a feeling like ice water being poured down his back, Tim snatches his phone back up and has to input his password 3 separate times before he calms down enough to type it correctly. Oh. Fuck. Tim is mentally adding this whole situation to the Top 10 List of Worst Things That Have Happened to Him Ever when he sees a new notification come in, not from one of the group chats this time. Jason Todd: wanna fuck? Or, Tim accidentally sends a text message to the wrong group chat, but it all works out in the end.

"Timmers sucked me pregnant," Jason blurts, and Tim watches in morbid fascination as Bruce goes through the five stages of grief in a millisecond. "I thought you said you weren't… sleeping together," Bruce says reproachfully. "He means that I, uh, impregnated him with my teeth. When I drank his blood. No sex involved," Tim explains. "It was an accident. I didn't even know I could do that."

Darcy thinks maybe her new intern is a slut. Like–a big one. Big ol’ slut. Both metaphorically and literally, since he's 6’3” of Kansas beefcake and maybe the literal only human being alive who has a build remotely comparable to Thor's. So like, a billion steroids or secretly an alien, Darcy’s assuming.

“I need you,” Tucker blurts immediately as he bursts into the living room where he left Kon half an hour ago. Or maybe two hours ago. Hopefully not more than three . . . ? “Like in a sexy way?” Kon asks, sounding halfheartedly hopeful as he looks up from his position draped across the couch with one of Tucker’s mom’s blander gossip magazines, where he’s clearly been bored out of his mind. Tucker will make that up to him later, definitely, but right now– “Like in a rogue attack way,” he says, and Kon makes a face.

"Crap!" the food truck worker shrieks in alarm. "Don't hurt him, Superman, he's just a kid!" Clark . . . pauses, then looks up from the kid that he is currently pinning into the street as said kid struggles underneath him. "'Hurt him'?" he asks in reflexive confusion, and then realizes how batting a teenager around like a person-shaped cat toy and pinning him to the street hard enough to crack it probably actually looks to an outside observer. . . . um. Whoops. "Um," he starts awkwardly, and then the kid slips his pin while he's distracted and throws his arms around his neck with a gleeful laugh and a bright grin. "Dad!" he crows triumphantly, and hugs Clark harder than literally anyone has ever hugged him before.

“Repeat that,” Tim says slowly. Kon gives him a defensive look. “I panicked, okay?” he repeats. “And ‘panicking’ meant you decided to kidnap . . . how many kids, exactly?”