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[chimie-chat]

so whats the endgoal with all this scrolling down we're doing

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I still love this so much 😭😭😭😭😭

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Allergy Season: A Tim Drake adventure

It's not that Tim didn't find Ivy attractive. Let's be real. Who wouldn't? She's a bombshell in a leaf bodice. After years of following the Gotham Rogues on the news, and reading every study he could find on every single one of them, the one he absolutely didn't want to run into was Poison Ivy. I mean, let's be real. He's a fourteen years old pubesent boy. She wouldn't even need to use that weird plant-drugged lipstick of her to make him to whatever she wanted, he's hecking do it anyways. So after becoming Robin, a dream come true let's be real, he was beyond anxious for the day he would inevitably run into the eco-terrorist; give him Joker any day.[8:52 PM]Alas, that day finally came. He was perched outside her latest greenhouse - a warehouse she'd turned into a tropical paradise - waiting for the signal from Batman to lunge into action, secretly hoping it would never com----- oh dammit. There it was. 

The Robin braced himself before shooting out a grappling gun, hooking it around a pipe along the roof, and swinging into action. Unfortunately, plans never seemed to work... Well.... They way we planned.... Huh.... Cause the second his boots scrapped the concrete slab, his knees bending to account for the pressure of the landing, he was hit in the face with a puff one pink, sparkly pollen - the kind you see in cartoons, not in real life - and boy of boy, y'all, Tim got a big ol' whiff of it. 

Immediately he started coughing, falling to his knees at the spores settled in his sinuses, and clogged his throat.[8:52 PM]"Silly boy. You really think you could get a jump on me like that?" Ivy snickered, twirling curly locks of red hair between her fingers, her other arm crossed underner her chest, which only helped push her C-cups higher. Somewhere in the distance, Batman yelled for his sidekick, as Ivy approached the red, yellow, and green clad teen. 

Now, her plan was probably to  make Tim her mind controlled minion - we all know the drill - but the second she pressed a finger to the teens chin, tilting his head up to her to lay that cursed kiss on him.... The boy let out the biggest, snot-filled sneeze in the world. 

"A-----CHOOOO!" Robin fell back down to the group, still coughing and groaning as sneeze after sneeze burned his nostrils. 

While Ivy should have been studdened, and rightfully disgusted, she was moreso baffled by the absolute mess of a boy at her feet. "What the----" 

"B--" Tim sneezed into his gauntlets. "B, I'm dying." 

"Is this a trick?" Ivy narrowed her eyes. "That plan was perfectly harmless. The order may be strong, but there's nothing poisonous about it." 

"Baaaaatmaa---CHOO!" 

Poison Ivy tapped the toe of her high heels against the Robin's thigh. "Is this one broken or something?" 

"B---- my---" He coughed, reaching out a hand dramatically towards his mentor, as if he were a soldier about to be left behind in the trenches. "My---- my epipen---" 

"....Excuse you?" 

There was a sigh as Batman left whatever vine he'd been fighting, and casually strolled up to his sidekick. The man reached into his utility belt, produsing an EpiPen with the prescription details scribbled off with a sharpie. He made quick eye contact with Ivy. "........He has really bad allergies." 

[chimie-chat]

Open When...

Chapter 2: ... You’re Frustrated

(Read Ch1)

Just shut up!” Robin chucked a batarang with full force, the weapon barely passing by Nightwing’s head before striking the cave wall behind him, the blade wedging itself into the stone. The young teen was seething, anger flowing off of him as he glared at his older brother through his mask. 

The outburst had drawn the attention of the others in the cave as well. Cassandra and Duke, who had been enjoying post-mission snacks, paused mid-cucumber sandwich to turn their heads. Even Alfred, who had been passing around a tray of much needed coffee, halted what he was doing, more likely than not to avoid becoming the victim of a runaway blade. The only person who didn’t turn was Bruce ー of freaking course he didn’t ー who was inputting notes into the mission file at the main computer. 

Dick raised his hands in defence. “Woah there. Damian, calm downー” 

“No!” The thirteen year old ripped his mask off, before slamming it to the ground. “I didn’t do anything wrong! You know I didn’t. They know I didn’t!” He gestured towards the other member of Batman Incorporated, this sorry excuse for a family. “So why the hell can’t you just admit I did a good today?”

“There’s always room to improve, Damiaー”

“Improve, my ass!” He grit his teeth together. This was ridiculous. It had been a simple mission; pop into a warehouse, beat up some drug smugglers, turn them in to the proper authorities. Easy fucking peasy. He's gone, he followed orders perfectly. He didn't step out of line, didn't cross boundaries, even when it would have been so easy to. He was a perfect Robin today. Which meant this absurd lecture he was getting right now was not only out of line, but downright insulting. "What more could you possibly want from me, Grayson? I did everything you asked tonight, with zero complaints, and a miniscule margin of error. Just admit that I did good, and leave me alone!"

"Damian, it's not that simple."

"Like hell it is!" The teen snarled. He tore his gauntlets off his arms, throwing them both to the ground. Maybe it would prove a point. Maybe not. That was unimportant at this moment. Damian glared up, meeting his brother's eyes with a scowl on his face, before deciding this wasn't worth it. He knew he was in the right. "Forget this."

He didn't bother to stick around when Dick called after him. He didn't bother to see if his father was reacting in any way. Damian just left. He stormed out of the cave, as seemed to be the routine, fuming from the ears as he all but crashed his feet through the oak floorboards of the manor. Part of him secretly hoped he'd run into another one of his adoptive siblings so he could pick a fight. God, that's what he needed right now. He needed a fight. He needed to hit something; to smash something. He needed to grab his sword and turn every shrub and tree on this blasted estate into wood chips. Instead, Damian settled for slamming his bedroom door shut.

"Aaaaaaarg!" He let out a scream, and paced around the space. Part of his uniform rapidly flying all over the carpet, landing in random pieces of furniture, before he was left in nothing but his underwear. While the burst of anger hadn't exactly calmed him down, slipping into silk pajamas helped. Only slightly, but help was help. "Stupid Grayson." He muttered under his breath as he flung himself onto that king-sized bed. 

This sucked. 

Contrary to popular belief, Damian didn't like being angry all the time. It was exhausting. The chronic issue was that other people were simply infuriating, always catching his temper, setting him off in all the worst says. He was sick of it. 

By chance, be it out of a need for comfort, or the desire for a better way to breathe than face shoved into an overstuffed down pillow, the fourteen year old turned his head to the side, letting his eyes scan across his room; over furniture, his own art on the walls, until it eventually landed on his desk. More specifically, a colorful wooden box that was kept neatly tucked into the back corner of his desk. 

No. No it was stupid. There’s no way this could help…

Damian pushed himself up off his bed. This was ridiculous. He stepped over his desk, pulling the box closer to the edge and flicking the clasp open. He opened the lid and started flipping through the pile of letters his friend had left for him. 

Angry? No.

Crying? Definitely not.

Offended, embarrassed, hurt.

He didn’t know why he was even bothering, because there was truly no way there would be a letter forー

‘Open When… You’re frustrated’

Huh… That was unexpected. 

Damian took the letter and went back over to his bed, climbing into it and making himself comfortable before cutting the envelope open.

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

Hey Dami! What’s up buddy? You doing ok? Well… I guess probably not, huh? I don’t know what happened or nothing but I’m whatever it is is bugging you. And you know what? That’s pk ok. Sometimes you just got to let yourself feel all the crummy, upset, nasty stuff for a minute, and just let yourself be mad.

Dad tells me that when he gets all fustra frustrated that he’ll go for a fly around the world. I do that too now that I can fly! Before I could fly I couldn’t do that though. When Mom gets upset she usually starts reading those girl magazines from the grocery store. I think the trick is to just do something that calms you down! Something that makes you forget everything else in the world.

What makes you feel better, Damian? Other than training because I think you need to do something other than punching and sword fighting. Also… Usually you get frustrated after fights or missions that don’t go the way you want them to go so that probably wont help too much anyways. Maybe you need some ideas. I know you like music, and you like painting, and you like your animals. So maybe if you think about those three things then it will help you.

Did ya think of something? I hope so. I hate it when you’re upset.

Take a deep breath. Relax your shoulders. Let yourself be not happy for a bit, then go do something fun. You’ll be alright soon. I know you will.

You’re best pal,

Jon

P.S. Try not to take it out on people you care about. 

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Damian let out a breath, letting his arm fall to the side, taking the letter with it. He stared up at the ceiling, letting his brain just think everything over for a minute. As much as he loathed to admit it, Jon was right. He needed to get out of his head space for a moment. Damian let his eyes fall shut, and just… Well, he did what jon suggested. He focused on his breathing, letting his lungs fill with air, holding it for a little longer than he normally would, and letting it out. 

Something to do… Something to do… What could he do?

He let out a sigh, rolling inwards towards the center of the bed, and looked at the letter in his hand, before letting his eyes fall straight. They tuned in to his violin, hanging delicately from it’s wooden stand.

That would work.

[chimie-chat]

take your time, they said.

the words will come to you, they said.

[chimie-chat]

YES IT IS AND YOURE WELCOME

Making the Best of a Crummy Situation

A quarantine inspired self-isolation Wonderette fic

“Welp…  This is just… Great.” The sarcasm was laced thick in Cassie’s voice as she flopped back onto her bed. She’d landed on one of her pigtails ー something anyone with longer hair can vouch is less than comfortable ー so she lifted a hand, jammed it under her head, and yoinked out the ties unceremoniously. Her hair was getting way too long. She really should just shop it all off again. Of course… That would have to wait.

“Yeah. No duh.” The other teen in the room was none other than Cissie King-Jones, Olympic superstar by day, nerd-brain student by night ever since quitting the whole Arrowette gig. “But hey. At least we’re together.”

Why did things suck? Why was it good to be together? Why were there three suitcases stacked up on top of each other in the corner of the room, one of which was currently being opened to reveal a mess of beauty products, and more moisturizers than a Costco aisle? Well, unless you’ve been in a coma since February, you’ve seen that little business on the news about Covid-19, A.K.A the Coronavirus, A.K.A the Boomer Killer. Long story short, the world was going to the shitter because of this pandemic circulating the globe, with world leaders reacting by forcing massive quarantines, especially in major cities. Museums, school, restaurants, stores… All sorts of places were closing down.

You might have noticed that little mention about schools closing. Yeah, not just a few schools here and there, but every school. Not only did this include Cassie’s standard public school, but it also hit Cissie’s oh-so-fancy all girl’s boarding school, which consequently had shut down all it’s dormitory buildings. Rather than going back home, where the archer just knew she was going to go nuts if she spent more than a day locked up with her mother, Cassie extended the invitation for her girlfriend to come stay with her.

In the immortal words of a misquoted Vine:

Oh my god they were quarantine mates.

Cassie shifted up on her elbows as she watched the blonde across from her unpack. “Did you manage to get everything before you had to leave?”

“Mostly.” The other girl pulled out a violet elastic headband, tugging it down over her head, and letting it dangle around her neck as she adjusted her long hair, before pulling the band up to hold the locks out of her face. “Wasn’t able to grab things like posters or trophies.”

“Ah yes. Because where would you be without your trophies.” 

“Devastated, clearly.” The next thing to emerge from the suitcase was ー and y’all, I can not stress enough how ridiculous this crap is ー a large shag throw pillow, patterned in pink, purple, and aqua diamonds. 

“Ok, you didn’t grab your olympic gold, but you grabbed that.” Cassie couldn’t help but snort. She would have probably laughed longer, except for the same offensive cushion suddenly colliding with her face. Perfect aim.

“You’re the one that got me that, you idiot!” Even though it very well could have been a stern yell, nothing could hide the dumbstruck smile on the other girl’s face.

“No way. I got you this?” The Wondergirl held the pillow up, pretending to examine it. Of course she remembered getting it. It was the worst anniversary gift in the world, but for some reason her weirdo girlfriend was really into this kind of stuff.

“Yes, and you know I sleep with it every night.” There was a pause as Cissie looked around the small bedroom. “Speaking of, you got a sleeping bag somewhere around here? Air mattress maybe?”

Cassie tipped her head to the side, tucking the pillow into her chest so she could lean her chin into the fluff. “Why would we need a sleeping bag?”

The other teen made eye contact, a perfectly threaded brow quirking up. “So I can sleep?”

“But…” She let a pout fall on her lips. Cissie loved it when she pouted. It always got her everything she wanted. “I thought we could just… you know… share my bed.”

Cissie let out a snort, combing her fingers through her hair. “Mmmm. As nice as that sounds, that’s not social distancing. We gotta stay CDC compliant.”

The amazonian huffed, puffing her cheeks out. “Oh come on. You and I both know we’re fine.” She patted the space on the mattress next to her. 

“Mmmmm. Nope.” With a popped ‘p’, Cissie turned back to her things, organizing her box of nail polishes instead of paying attention to whatever her partner was doing. 

“Cissie.” She practically whined as she dropped the shag pillow, pushed up from the bed, and went over to grab the other girl by the arm. It was all playful, more so like a cat bothering her owner for attention than anything. “Come on. We haven’t gotten to cuddle in forever.”

Apparently this girl thought she was hilarious, because she kept that way too pretty, quirky smile on her face, as she let Cassie incessantly try and pull her up. “I hope you washed your hands for the recommended twenty seconds.”

“God you’re the worst.” Cassie rolled her eyes, before leaning down, tucking her arms underneath Cissie’s armpits ー it wasn’t exactly cute but it worked ー and lifting her girlfriend to her feet. Having superstrength definitely paid off sometimes. 

“But babe,” A laugh was bubbling out of Cissie. Even though the archer was taller by an inch or two, she tended to lean on her hip when she stood, bringing her down to her partner’s level anyways. Regardless, they were both at the perfect heights for long, slender arms to drape over broad shoulders, wrapping around Cassie’s neck. “We have to stay six feet apart.”

“Screw that.” Cassie leaned in for a quick kiss, which Cissie thankfully let her take. Neither could help but smile as they pushed into each other. Even when it ended, they stayed close, remaining in a loose and lazy hug, foreheads leaning together, until Cassie tipped in once more and placed a soft kiss to her partner’s cheek. “Missed ya.”

“I missed you too.” Cissie rubbed the tips of their noses together. “I was kidding about the CDC stuff.”

“I know that, you goof.”

“Good.” The girl nodded, stealing a kiss for herself. “Because I miss being your little spoon.”

Cassie smiled wide, brushing a lock of hair behind Cissie’s ear. “Let’s fix that then.”

[chimie-chat]

[chimie-chat]

Making the Best of a Crummy Situation

A quarantine inspired self-isolation Wonderette fic

“Welp...  This is just… Great.” The sarcasm was laced thick in Cassie’s voice as she flopped back onto her bed. She’d landed on one of her pigtails ー something anyone with longer hair can vouch is less than comfortable ー so she lifted a hand, jammed it under her head, and yoinked out the ties unceremoniously. Her hair was getting way too long. She really should just shop it all off again. Of course… That would have to wait.

“Yeah. No duh.” The other teen in the room was none other than Cissie King-Jones, Olympic superstar by day, nerd-brain student by night ever since quitting the whole Arrowette gig. “But hey. At least we’re together.”

Why did things suck? Why was it good to be together? Why were there three suitcases stacked up on top of each other in the corner of the room, one of which was currently being opened to reveal a mess of beauty products, and more moisturizers than a Costco aisle? Well, unless you’ve been in a coma since February, you’ve seen that little business on the news about Covid-19, A.K.A the Coronavirus, A.K.A the Boomer Killer. Long story short, the world was going to the shitter because of this pandemic circulating the globe, with world leaders reacting by forcing massive quarantines, especially in major cities. Museums, school, restaurants, stores… All sorts of places were closing down.

You might have noticed that little mention about schools closing. Yeah, not just a few schools here and there, but every school. Not only did this include Cassie’s standard public school, but it also hit Cissie’s oh-so-fancy all girl’s boarding school, which consequently had shut down all it’s dormitory buildings. Rather than going back home, where the archer just knew she was going to go nuts if she spent more than a day locked up with her mother, Cassie extended the invitation for her girlfriend to come stay with her.

In the immortal words of a misquoted Vine:

Oh my god they were quarantine mates.

Cassie shifted up on her elbows as she watched the blonde across from her unpack. “Did you manage to get everything before you had to leave?”

“Mostly.” The other girl pulled out a violet elastic headband, tugging it down over her head, and letting it dangle around her neck as she adjusted her long hair, before pulling the band up to hold the locks out of her face. “Wasn’t able to grab things like posters or trophies.”

“Ah yes. Because where would you be without your trophies.” 

“Devastated, clearly.” The next thing to emerge from the suitcase was ー and y’all, I can not stress enough how ridiculous this crap is ー a large shag throw pillow, patterned in pink, purple, and aqua diamonds. 

“Ok, you didn’t grab your olympic gold, but you grabbed that.” Cassie couldn’t help but snort. She would have probably laughed longer, except for the same offensive cushion suddenly colliding with her face. Perfect aim.

“You’re the one that got me that, you idiot!” Even though it very well could have been a stern yell, nothing could hide the dumbstruck smile on the other girl’s face.

“No way. I got you this?” The Wondergirl held the pillow up, pretending to examine it. Of course she remembered getting it. It was the worst anniversary gift in the world, but for some reason her weirdo girlfriend was really into this kind of stuff.

“Yes, and you know I sleep with it every night.” There was a pause as Cissie looked around the small bedroom. “Speaking of, you got a sleeping bag somewhere around here? Air mattress maybe?”

Cassie tipped her head to the side, tucking the pillow into her chest so she could lean her chin into the fluff. “Why would we need a sleeping bag?”

The other teen made eye contact, a perfectly threaded brow quirking up. “So I can sleep?”

“But…” She let a pout fall on her lips. Cissie loved it when she pouted. It always got her everything she wanted. “I thought we could just… you know… share my bed.”

Cissie let out a snort, combing her fingers through her hair. “Mmmm. As nice as that sounds, that’s not social distancing. We gotta stay CDC compliant.”

The amazonian huffed, puffing her cheeks out. “Oh come on. You and I both know we’re fine.” She patted the space on the mattress next to her. 

“Mmmmm. Nope.” With a popped ‘p’, Cissie turned back to her things, organizing her box of nail polishes instead of paying attention to whatever her partner was doing. 

“Cissie.” She practically whined as she dropped the shag pillow, pushed up from the bed, and went over to grab the other girl by the arm. It was all playful, more so like a cat bothering her owner for attention than anything. “Come on. We haven’t gotten to cuddle in forever.”

Apparently this girl thought she was hilarious, because she kept that way too pretty, quirky smile on her face, as she let Cassie incessantly try and pull her up. “I hope you washed your hands for the recommended twenty seconds.”

“God you’re the worst.” Cassie rolled her eyes, before leaning down, tucking her arms underneath Cissie’s armpits ー it wasn’t exactly cute but it worked ー and lifting her girlfriend to her feet. Having superstrength definitely paid off sometimes. 

“But babe,” A laugh was bubbling out of Cissie. Even though the archer was taller by an inch or two, she tended to lean on her hip when she stood, bringing her down to her partner’s level anyways. Regardless, they were both at the perfect heights for long, slender arms to drape over broad shoulders, wrapping around Cassie’s neck. “We have to stay six feet apart.”

“Screw that.” Cassie leaned in for a quick kiss, which Cissie thankfully let her take. Neither could help but smile as they pushed into each other. Even when it ended, they stayed close, remaining in a loose and lazy hug, foreheads leaning together, until Cassie tipped in once more and placed a soft kiss to her partner’s cheek. “Missed ya.”

“I missed you too.” Cissie rubbed the tips of their noses together. “I was kidding about the CDC stuff.”

“I know that, you goof.”

“Good.” The girl nodded, stealing a kiss for herself. “Because I miss being your little spoon.”

Cassie smiled wide, brushing a lock of hair behind Cissie’s ear. “Let’s fix that then.”

[chimie-chat]

Open When...

Chapter 1: ... I leave you alone

The box appeared seemingly out of nowhere. 

One day, after spending too much time frustratedly thrusting every sharp object he could get his hands on into any training dummy he could find, Damian finally retreated up to his bedroom, drenched in sweat and desperately needing a shower. His plan was to dump his athletic wear on the floor, leaving a trail of clothes across the floor, leading to his ensuite. Instead, as he kicked the heavy wooden door shut behind him, hands cross, grasping at the hem of his Under Armour tank top, his eyes caught a glimpse of something on his desk that was definitely not there when he’d left. 

A scowl grew on his face. He hated surprises. He especially hated them when he was already in a bad mood to begin with. Yet here he was, face to face with a… box. A weird, random, wood box that was clearly homemade, seeing as the hinges on the back were screwed in completely unevenly. It was unfinished, pine laying completely exposed to the elements, save for blue paint smeared across the lid, and a poorly done cartoonesque heart taking up space in the top left corner. Underneath, thick black sharpie scrawled out the words ‘Open When’. Damian’s eyes narrowed at the writing. He’d recognize that chicken scratch anywhere:

Jon.

Thus bringing him to why he was upset in the first place. Now, Damian Al Ghul Wayne understood the necessity to train better than more. He regularly preached discipline, and the obligation of other vigilante types to commit themselves to constant practice…. That didn’t mean he was pleased to see Jon leave.

That was the issue. His comrade, his partner, the one individual he dared to call a friend, just up-skipped and left for some sort of training exercise. There were several very large issues with this, the primary being that Damian had not been informed of this. How rude could you be? After nearly two years of devotion and teamwork, and this damned corncob couldn’t even be bothered to say goodbye? Obviously there was just no possible way he could, gee, I don’t know, need that stupid kryptonian hybrid? He couldn’t possibly have planned the majority of his group tactics on the presence of an eleven year old power house? Truly, this was just so inconsiderate. The second most prominent issue the young Wayne had with this, was that Jon hadn’t just gone into the mountains for a week. No, it wasn’t a simple trip to Smallville, consisting primarily of stacking hay bales, and building barns. No. Not at all. No, Jon had to go on an indefinite expedition in outer space.

So yeah. Damian was a tad pissed off. Never in all thirteen, nearly fourteen years of his life, would he ever have left the planet without sending out a memo to his teammates. 

The teen looked down at the box again and snarled. “Open when? Open when, what, Kent?” With a click of his tongue, he practically snatched the clasp that held the box shut, harshly flicking it open to see what could possibly be so important, that a shitty, oh-so-mysterious box would appear in his room. 

Damian didn’t know what he had been expecting, truly, but he knew he wasn’t expecting… This.

Despite the box being approximately eight by eight by six inches ー twenty by twenty by twelve centimeters would be a more accurate measurement ー it seemed almost bigger on the inside, as it lay before him, absolutely filled with… envelopes?

Cards, letters of various different sizes and colors were stacked on top of each other in no particular order. Perplexed, Damian picked the stack up, filing through them and reading what had been written on the front. Firmly pasted in the top left corner of each envelope, without fail, were the words “Open When…”, while the center, which would normally contain some kind of address, seemed to complete the sentence.

Open When…

You’re angry

You’re upset

You’re sad

You can’t sleep at night

You feel alone

You’re frustrated

A mission goes wrong

You need a confidence boost

The list went on, each handling a different subject matter. Damian counted fifty letters total.

This… This was absurd. How dare Jonathan leave such rubbish behind for him? What kind of stupid, sentimental garbage was this? That idiot should know better than to believe Damian was anything less thanー

Open When… I leave you alone

...That’s not fair.

Damian tugged open the top drawer of his desk, removing a pair of scissors. He held them open before using the blade to cleanly open the letter, leaving the others to rest in the box. 

He’d expected simple lined paper, low and behold, that’s exactly what he got. Three hole-punched, loose leaf paper tri-folded and stuffed into an envelope. How classy. Damian unfolded the note with a sigh. This could only be so good.

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

Hey best buddy!

So, I’m sorry about all this. I don’t know what happened but I know I’m sorry. Did we have a fight? I hope not. I never was to fight with you. Obviously I know we play fight a lot and sometimes when we spare our punches feel a little more like we actually want to punch each other. But I am never really mad at you. I proms promise. I hope that you feel the same way because you are my best friend and I like you a lot.

If we didn’t fight then I probably had to go for some reason. Chances are it was pretty importent important. I wish you could be with me. Missions are always so much more fun when you’re there with me. But for whatever reason I guess I had to go… You can go ahead and be mad at me if you want to. That’s ok. I completely understand, because I’d probably be pretty upset if you suddenly left too. I mean, I know that sometimes you just disappear. That’s different though, ya know? Like, you do it and it makes sense and I trust you because you always think things through. Me? I’m smart, but I’m not as good at planning as you are. There! I admitted it! You’re better at me than something, so you can just go ahead and hold that over my head forever now.

Anyways. I’m sorry I’m gone, Damian. I really am. But I promise I’ll come back as soon as I can. You know I always do. I can’t let you be lonely without me for too long. I know how you get. Maybe you can go spend some time with the Teen Titans? Oh! Or you could practice hacking into the Justice League computers again! My dad told me that they’re gonna update all of their software, so maybe it’ll be a little harder for you this time.

Wherever I am in the universe, I bet I miss you a lot. I always miss you. You’re my best friend, so of course I do. 

Take care of yourself, buddy! Try not to be too mad at people while I’m gone.

See you soon!

You’re best friend, 

Jon

P.S. Make sure I didn’t leave any snacks that could go bad down in the Fortress of Attitude. Thanks. 

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

Damian rolled his eyes at the letter. The grammar was god awful, and way too many letters had been scribbled over to try and correct spelling mistakes. What was the damn point of this? The teen bit into the inside of his cheeks as he crumbled the stupid letter into a ball, holding it clenched in his fist, before slowly unfolding it. He lay the paper against the flat wooden surface of his desk, smoothing out the new crinkles with the palms of his hands. 

…..Apology accepted. 

[chimie-chat]

ICJVOENWOWPCOVJRNWNQPXOCKALX OH HUSH YOU

I know fanfiction is like this big joke and everything, but man, have I read some fics that have completely knocked the wind out of me. New York Times Best Sellers could NEVER.

[chimie-chat]

Reblog if you write fanfic and would be totally down with your followers coming into you askbox and talking to you about your fic

Of course I’m ok with that!

[chimie-chat]

Finally updated this thing!!!!!!!!! Sorry I was MIA for so long XD

[chimie-chat]

Reblog if you are a fic writer who welcomes moodboards, playlists, remixes, art and any other type of gift based on your stories.

[chimie-chat]

Oh heck thanks for the shout out!!!!!!

I just want a good Damian Wayne and Jon Kent fic, No Dying, No Wolves, Nothing gross, and something in English, could you by any chance recommend me any?

This Thrilling Day by DawnsEternalLight - While on vacation Damian and Jon are left alone to fend off some wanna be thieves. Chaos ensues.

I personally love this one with the Home Alone-style nostalgia

Christmas Is For Everyone by brightwhiteparabolas - Damian does not care that Gotham People has just published a widely-read hit piece on Wayne Manor’s animal menagerie. Damian knows that hyenas cannot be abandoned on Christmas, no matter who loves them.

Musketeers by Chimie_Chat - Damian, Jon, and Billy have been friends forever. Well, “friends”. Sometimes they get along, and sometimes they definitely don’t. But as time passes, the three of them remain inseparable.

Uno Master by Karupinthecat - Damian went to the movies with his father and the Kents. Now they are driving home. Also Jon is being a big child and Damian is even worse.

One of my favorite humor pieces

It’s For Science by Karupinthecat - Jon and Damian wonder if Jon can get drunk.

Drive by Queerbutstillhere - Damian and Jon get dragged on a road trip with their parents. Jon sets Damian up with Bart and then suddenly realized that he doesn’t really like that.

Good slow burn with them as teenagers

Suspicions by DaenaBlackfyre - For a while now, Clark had been suspicious that his son was doing something weird and those suspicions were confirmed when he heard a conversation with Robin.

Haunted Manor by DawnsEternalLight - The manor was not haunted. It couldn’t be. Damian would know. Wouldn’t he? He wasn’t sure anymore, not after he and Jon ran into one on a tour of the manor. It was supposed to be a boring night, where Damian’s main concern was sneaking out to join his Father on patrol. How had he ended up so wrapped up in this ghost mystery?

[chimie-chat]

"Dad?" Young Jonathan Kent was just shy of his tenth birthday when he noticed a crack in the door, leasing to the extra room in the house no one ever used; the room he thought no one used. He had never bother to think on it much. The door was always locked, meaning he wasn't allowed inside, but it was probably just storage or something. At least, that's what he'd believe. That is, until he saw that crack in the door, and suddenly curiosity stuck harder than a hurricane. He had to look inside.

Small hands gripped onto the doorknob, pushing just enough for the hinges to squeak, and the bottom of the poorly framed slab to scrape along hardwood floors. The light inside was dim, but he could still clearly see the shadowed frame of his father, who stood slumped by one of the walls. "Dad? What are ya doin'?" The boy stepped inside. It was then that he noticed the finer details of the room.

Of the four walls, two and a half of them were lined with photographs, newspaper, and magazine clippings; all of which were framed. Greeting cards were delicately taped to the walls. As Jon looked around, he couldn't recognize a single face. How strange. Why would dad have a room like this? Jon stepped closer to the man. He could feel the nerves start to build. He wasn't even supposed to be in this room, so maybe Dad would be mad? But something.... Something wasn't right. For some reason Dad just– His father– Superman stared at the wall, looking utterly defeated. There was another picture frame in the man's hands.

"Daddy?" Jon tugged at his father's shirt when he got closer. That seemed to snap his father right out of whatever trance he'd been in, because the man looked down at his boy, quite shocked to see his son by his side. "What is this? Who is that?"

"Who is what?" Clark knit his brows together, his jaw tightening before looking back towards the freshly printed photograph he was carrying. The man took a deep breath. He then passed the frame down to the boy. "This... This, is Nevaeh."

Jon took the picture in his hands – it was heavy – and looked down into the bright hazel eyes of the young girl in the frame. It was clearly a school picture. She didn't look much older than him – they could've gone to school together, but he didn't recognize her – with a bright smile, and braids perfectly tied back. Jon looked up at his dad once more, waiting patiently for a better explanation.

"She..." The hero took a breath. "She was at the earthquake site the other day."

"Oh." Jon remembered that from the news Mom watched. A lot of Justice League heroes had gone to rescue people from the rubble. He had been super excited to watch the footage of his Dad saving so many people. "Did you get to meet her? Is she a fan of yours?"

That, apparently, was the wrong question to ask. Clark's jaw wired itself shut. "No. No I didn't."

"Oh..." That didn't make sense. "That why do you have her picture?" Jon looked at all the other other frames on the wall. "Who are all these people, Daddy?"

"These people," Clark took the frame of Nevaeh back, before lifting it up and hanging it on an empty space on the wall, "are the ones Daddy couldn't save."

Jon's eyes went wide. "You mean they're..." His little voice dropped into a whisper, as if what they both knew was some kind of secret. "They're... Dead?"

Clark nodded, perhaps unable to say anything else. It was hard to tell with grownups, but Jon was good at reading people. He reached out for his father, and grabbed into the man's hand with both of his own.

"Do you need a hug, Dad?"

Clark let out a breath. He wiped his face with the edge of the flannel shirt he was wearing. "Yeah. A hug would be great, champ. A hug would be great."

Clark keeps a shrine to all the people he couldn’t save in the fortress to remind him that he always needs to be better. His friends and family think he’s to hard on himself but Clark has to believe that one day he will be able to save everyone.

[chimie-chat]

Hm....

2020 Mood: I want to read my fics but they aren’t written yet.

[chimie-chat]

hello writeblr tag! 

could you do me a favor and reblog this if you are a queer writer? i’d love to follow you! also - i do have an active writing server for queer writers called the queer library! we’re all a bunch of fun people and the server is for all ages! feel free to let me know if you’d like to join - but also, just reblog this so i can follow all the queer writeblrs out there!