#I think conner is the exception to this because it seems like he walled himself off to that on some level. he wasn’t fixated on it—

[bestial4ngel]

Okay but the way that so much of their lives revolved around Logan in some way or another. They weren’t close emotionally obviously, but he was always there sort of controlling or morphing their lives somehow with his decisions, his influence, his praise, his money, his disapproval and rejection. There’s a hole in the middle of Waystar now that everyone’s going to be scrambling to fill, but there’s also a similar hole in each of the kids because of how much room in their lives and their minds he had been taking up.

[i314flix]

the one where peter realizes that all peter parkers has an mj in their lives that they hold dearly in their hearts, and you, his good friend who happened to have the same initials, might be the person he’s meant to break down his walls for for the first time again after vowing to lock it up forever.

pairing: tasm!peter parker x mj!reader

word count: 2.8k

rating: NC-17

content: fluff, friends to lovers au; ft. professor!reader, professor!tasm!peter

warning/s: suggestive sexual themes; this fic isn’t that marinated yet for editing so there might be some mistakes here and there.

opening note. i rewatched spider-man: no way home and came up with this idea while doing so lol. technically, i know tasm!peter is not supposed to remember mcu!peter but for the sake of this fic, let’s just pretend that he does okay hehehe. also, i know this is supposed to be a reader-insert fic, but again, for plot purposes, you will have a name with the mj initial !

Peter felt like the densest person alive when it clicked to him that Peter 1’s Michelle Jones-Watson and Peter 2’s Mary Jane Watson had a version of her own in his universe.

He knew that he should have realized it as soon as the two Peters mentioned them, but he was so caught up with being in an entirely new dimension and coming up with a plan that would save its people that he didn’t have the luxury to process it quicker than usual; he just allowed it to be heard by his ears and shooed away by his preoccupied mind, deeming the information as merely trivial.

However, the second he was left alone with his thoughts, just as he began formulating and working on the cure for Dr. Curt Conners, it hit him like a ton of bricks that if these Peters had a partner that had the same initials, then it wouldn’t be quite impossible for him to supposedly have an MJ of his own—and that you, whose full name was Mia Joesette Watson, seemed to have perfectly fit that specific criteria.

In Peter’s defense, since you preferred to be called ‘Jo’ and the entirety of your name was very different from the other MJs, he should be given some slack for not realizing it sooner. It’s not like there was some memo that said all Peters indeed had an MJ in their life and that this said MJ would have a significant impact in it.

Still though, a part of him reckoned that he should have known better due to how much of an important and dear person you were to him. After all, since vowing to himself that he would never allow anyone to know about his identity as Spider-Man after what happened to Gwen, you became the exception to that rule because of what Peter now assumed was the universe’s way of telling him that you were meant to know him other than just Peter Parker, your colleague and fellow adjunct professor at the university you both worked in.

So when he got transported back to his universe thanks to Peter 1’s wizard friend, the first thing he did was rush to the university grounds where he knew you would be, ignoring the pain he felt in his body from all the fight and getting the first clothes he could find in his apartment to wear over his Spider-Man suit so that he could disguise himself as an average guy.

He just knew he couldn’t wait to see you again. It was going to be literally torturous if he prolonged this any longer, his head only filled with thoughts of how much he wanted to see you and prove if the theory he had been thinking of was right.

Peter wished it was; he never said it out loud before, but it has been months since he has been in denial with himself that he was already gaining romantic feelings for you due to his fear of ever loving someone so much again.

And if this was the go signal he had been waiting for that told him it was safe to fall in love with you, then he was going to take it.

━━

Arriving at the faculty building, he marched to where your office was and heedlessly opened the door without warning, spotting you by your desk with a student sitting across you.

From the looks of it alone, this student—Rachel, as Peter remembered her—was having a consultation with you, her laptop opened for you and folders scattered on the table, a very clear indication that he shouldn’t have barged in like he just had right now unannounced.

Your eyes flashed to him in an instant, confusion and surprise etching on your features. “Mr. Parker,” you acknowledged, keeping the interaction as professional as it could since there were existing rumors of the both of you having a love affair (from what you gathered, the students were ‘shipping’ you together), “is there anything I can help you with?”

He swallowed hard, embarrassed as he was not expecting another person to be with you at this time. “Well, uh, yes. But it can wait. I can wait out here.” He pertained to the bench outside your office.

“Oh, it’s fine, Mr. Parker,” Rachel was the one who spoke; she appeared pleased and there was a certain glint in her eyes that Peter couldn’t quite decipher. “My consultation period with Ms. Watson is done. So, you can have her.” She closed her laptop that was on your desk and kept the rest of her things before standing up.

“No, no, if you still have something to discuss—”

Any protest done by Peter got ignored by Rachel as she thanked you for your time, this big teasing grin on her face, and bid her farewell to you and Peter, scurrying to the door then to give you two the privacy you needed.

“Rachel, remember to email me the revisions by tonight, alright?” You reminded her gently before she could completely leave.

“Will do!” she giddily replied, closing the door behind her.

Once she was far enough and out of hearing shot, Peter turned back to you and saw you gazing at him with your arms crossed against your chest, your stance clearly disapproving. He was well familiar what must be running in your mind right now; there has been a lot of times in the past wherein he has gotten hurt from crime fighting that he enlisted your help in taking care of his unreachable wounds, and during one of those instances that you saw how much he winced and was in pain, you were never shy in making your concern show.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly said, striding towards your desk while you remained there, “I forgot that it’s your consultation hours during this time.”

“Where the hell were you, Peter?” was what you asked him, no longer hiding your infuriation about the fact that he has been missing since yesterday. “You didn’t attend any of your lectures from what I’ve heard, and you haven’t been answering any of my calls.”

It took a few seconds before he spoke, and when he did, he knew that the excuse he blurted out wouldn’t be good enough for your ears. “I’ve been busy.”

“Busy? With what?” You walked around the desk to walk closer to where he was standing. “You were gone for almost two days, Pete. At first I thought you were doing your—” you paused, glancing at the door for a millisecond and keeping your voice hushed for your next sentence— “Spider-Man stuff, but I looked over the news and there weren’t reports of you from anywhere.”

“Well… that’s probably because I most likely didn’t do my Spider-Man stuff here,” he sheepishly said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I literally wasn’t here, Jo.”

“You were out of town?”

“No, I mean literally in this world.”

“In this world?” you repeated in an impatient and puzzled manner. “So, what are you saying? Did you gain the ability to fly yourself to space?”

“No, no, I mean here, Jo.” Peter gestured to your surroundings in complete astonishment; regardless of how many hours it has been since he knew of the fact, he was still amazed to know that it was true. “In this world is what I’m saying. God, I don’t even know where to begin—but string theory, multidimensional reality, matter displacement? It’s all real. There are universes out there that are like our own, universes that we have counterparts of and who live in the same places we live in right here. The one I somehow ended up in? It had its own Peter Parker.”

You blinked at him, shocked at what he disclosed but was still in the process of taking it all in. “What?”

“The multiverse—it exists. It fucking exists.”

“LIke… like in that movie called Everything Everywhere All at Once? There’s just multiple realities happening all at the same time?”

“Exactly!”

“And the universe you traveled to, there was a Peter Parker there that wasn’t you?”

He nodded in enthusiasm. “Yes. Though, it’s interesting, because we look nothing alike. It doesn’t matter, of course. It’s just that I was under the impression that all Peter Parkers are supposed to look the same, but I suppose that there can be exemptions considering that there must be zillions of worlds in the—”

“Wait, wait, wait…” You cut him off and he immediately shut up. “So, let me get this clear, you were gone for almost two days because you were in another universe?”

“It sounds crazy, I know,” he said, “I mean, now that I’m back, I’m having a hard time grasping it again. But yes, basically, that is the reason for my absence.”

“How did you even travel there?”

“No idea. Just poofed there without warning.”

You continued staring at him, thankfully not because you seemed like you had your suspicions that he was only bluffing or was completely losing it. Peter was positive that you were going to believe him; it was dubious of you not to, given the fact that you were already aware of his powers as Spider-Man and the superhumans that posed a threat to your city from time to time. Surely, the concept of the multiverse couldn’t be the one thing you couldn’t comprehend.

“Fascinating,” you finally uttered out loud, looking genuinely impressed. “If they have their own Peter Parker there, does he happen to be Spider-Man as well?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “There’s two of them actually—Peter 2 is from another world too, I’ll explain later—and he’s the oldest among us three. Peter 1, the youngest, is the true Peter in that dimension, while me… I’m kinda like the middle child in the whole dynamic.”

“There were three Peter Parkers in the world you transported in?”

“Yep.”

“Sounds like a handful.” You had the nerve to tease despite being stunned by the information. “I’m assuming there’s a Jo Watson in that universe then, huh?”

Peter smiled. He just remembered what he came rushing here for. There was a part of him that was still nervous about what he wanted to do now because of his newfound knowledge, afraid that maybe his case was different when it came to having an MJ in his life—yet most of him felt optimistic that this was the right path to go, and he hasn’t felt this much optimism in a while for him to ignore it.

“It does, actually.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Really?”

“Uh-huh. She looks nothing like you and she goes by MJ but I’m pretty sure that you and her are supposed to be the same.” He chuckled and so did you.

“What makes you so certain?”

“For one, she’s an important person in Peter Parker’s life, and you’re important to me too, Jo,” Peter said sincerely, his eyes practically the ones that were speaking to you that he caught the movement in which you held your breath in surprise a bit because of it. “I… to be frank, I should have realized it sooner. You’ve always been so much more than just a person I wanted to protect and care for. I’ve always been drawn to you… it’s perhaps the reason why I climbed in the wrong window that night despite memorizing this whole building.”

A snort escaped you at the memory he had you abruptly revisiting. What he was referring to was the night when you discovered he was indeed the man behind Spider-Man, all because of Peter’s mistake of climbing into your office for a supposed temporary refuge which was coincidentally placed a floor above his. He wasn’t sure what made him commit such a rookie mistake, although like he just said, he now thought it was the universe’s way of bringing him closer to you.

“Peter…” You began but he held your arms gently to stop you from carrying on with that sentence.

“You don’t have to give me an answer yet,” he said. “I just want you to know that I like you, Jo. A lot. And I’ve been trying hard not to for the past few months because of fear that I’ll just get fucked by life all over again if I allow myself to let another person in my life like I did before. Being in that other world though… seeing how those two Peters had MJs of their own—it made me hope that maybe it could work for the both of us too. Not just as friends… maybe as something more.”

You blinked at him, the implication of his words dawning onto you. To claim that you anticipate this confession would be a lie; regardless, it didn’t erase the fact that it made the butterflies in your stomach turn into a damn zoo. “Pete, I… wow, um, I’m speechless.”

“I’m sorry if I’m pouring this all out on you in one go.”

“No, don’t apologize.” You found yourself smiling, and that gesture alone made his heart want to burst in happiness. “I just mean that… well, I don’t want to be stereotypical—uh, do the other MJs happen to have romantic interest in the other Peter Parkers too?”

The both of you were beaming now. He was positive then that you were his already.

“Yeah. They’re head over heels over their Peters as a matter of fact,” Peter said.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Totally. I heard one of them even made the first move of kissing Peter.”

“Very admirable, I must say.” You were laughing again, and he couldn’t help following suit.

“Right?” He stepped closer and brought both of his hands on your cheeks. “However, as much as I would be honored for you to do that as well, I think I’ll save you the effort and do it myself.”

Before you could react, Peter had his lips already on yours, kissing you with a passion that he didn’t know he had until he was here and making it apparent to you. He loved how you melted into him the moment his mouth touched yours, how your hands traveled from staying still on both of your sides to clinging onto his coat to pull him closer to you, deepening the kiss and showing how much you needed this to happen as well, even though like him, you were only aware of that fact once this was really happening.

“Goddamn,” you cursed as you felt your bottom hit the desk; Peter had successfully led you to perch on it while he stood between your thighs, his body dangerously pressing against yours, “I never knew you had game, Pete.” You breathed out, half-teasing and half-impressed.

Peter smirked. “I’m hurt.”

“What can I do to make it up to you?” Your tone was flirtatious and he was feeling rather hot because of it.

“Lots of things, Jo. Though there are a few things at the top of my list.”

“Yeah?” You moaned as he nipped on your throat and squeezed your hips. “Like what?”

He was about to reply with the naughtiest thing he will ever utter in your presence but then loud consecutive knocks were heard from the office door, causing you two to halt at once.

Another knock came and Peter recoiled from you instantly, dashing to the nearby bookshelf to start pretending like he was interested in the books displayed there to erase the possible suspicion of what just commenced. You, on the other hand, briskly smoothened your hair, blouse, and asked the person knocking to come in, revealing it to be Rachel who appeared bashful to be back here again.

“I’m so sorry, Ms. Watson, but I seem to have forgotten my laptop charger.” She gestured to the pouch right beside you on the table, something that you recognized to be the one that contained what she returned for.

You grabbed it and outstretched the small bag towards her direction, an invitation for her to come get it herself, and she didn’t waste time darting forward, catching hold of it and mumbling her sorrys again and again, apologizing for interrupting your ‘meeting’ with Professor Parker.

“It’s fine,” you repeatedly told her too, waving your hands in assurance that it was all good and offering her a final smile before she exited the office for the second time this day, yelling a one last sorry until you heard her footsteps fade out.

As soon as that was dealt with, you and Peter simultaneously let out a huge exhale, causing your gazes to meet. By far, making out in the office was the most risqué and compromising position you permitted yourself to be in, considering that you and him were still in the university premises. Nonetheless, you ended up bursting out laughing with Peter at the thought of being discovered on the very first day you just admitted your feelings to each other, happy hormones spreading everywhere in your systems.

With a bite of his lip to prevent a bigger grin to be seen on his mouth, he lifted a hand and shot a synthetic web to your torso and abruptly hauled you towards him so that you’d fall in his arms. You gasped in absolute surprise, a complaint bubbling in your throat, yet he couldn’t care less as he carried on with kissing you again, picking up from where the both of you were left interrupted earlier. 

gentle reminder: this author is a sucker for validation so please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts about this! ♡

[justcourttee]

MariJon, where Valentine's Day is coming up and both of them are trying to figure out how to ask each other out without making it weird and turn to their mutual best friend, Damian. Lots and lots of awkwardness and pining please 😊

This is so cute and so fun to write. I hope you like it!

Damian Wayne: The Love Doctor

Valentine’s Day.

It’s the day that initiates feelings of romance and longing in people across the globe. For couples, it’s a day to spoil each other and gorge on chocolates and fancy dinners. However, for the singles, it’s a day of anxiety and stress hoping that someone returns their feelings or risk sitting dejected for another year alone.

For Jon, it was the latter. This year though, he was determined for it to be different. Thanks to Damian, Jon met Marinette this year. They were always hanging out in one of the League’s hideouts and after several months of begging, Damian finally introduced him. To say it was love at first sight almost felt like an understatement.

So if he felt this way, it should be easy to step forward and hand her the box of chocolates that he had clutched in his hands as he moved to the store’s checkout. Except it wasn’t easy, after all, he had no way of knowing how she felt and Jon wasn’t sure he could handle the idea of Marinette rejecting him.

“-and that’s how I found myself here. How am I supposed to ask her out if I don’t know if she’ll say yes?”

“Yes, that does sound quite perplexing.” Damian flipped the page in his novel, his eyes glued to the words. Jon was positive he wasn’t paying attention, but he had no one else he could go to. Taking a deep breath, Jon darted forward snapping the book from his best friend’s grasp.

The look that Damian gave him would usually be enough to send Jon running leaving the book in his tracks, but he was so worried about asking out Marinette, he honestly had no value for his life at the moment.

“What is it that you think I can do for you, Jon? I myself have never been interested in relationships. They are quite meaningless if there is nothing you can obtain through the partnership.”

Jon scratched the back of his neck as his eyes clung to the ground. Damian was right. He never had a relationship and never seemed to be interested in them so for Jon to ask him advice on how to ask out Marinette, well, it wasn’t his smartest move.

“It’s just-you see-I know that but-”

“Kent, for the love of whatever being may be out there, spit out your sentence.”

“You’re my only friend Damian!”

He hadn’t meant to shout it, the volume even earning a raised eyebrow from Damian’s usually stoic face.

“I’m just-I’m just desperate. I really want this to go over well.”

Damian’s stare sent a shiver down his spine as they stared in silence for a moment and then two. Just when he was sure his friend was about to snap, he did something that surprised him even more.

“Violets.”

“Excuse me?”

Breaking their stare, Damian reached behind him tossing Jon a notebook and pen without a second look.

“You better write this down Kent because I’ll only say it once. Her favorite flowers are violets so that’s where you’re gonna start.”

Jon’s eyes widened as he scrambled to open the first page of the notebook jotting down the words that were spilling out of Damian’s mouth. By the time his friend had sent him away, Jon was almost confident that this plan could work. Maybe, just maybe, he could finally find the courage to ask out Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was barely a day later when Damian Wayne found himself cornered yet again.

He was just trying to finish the last few pages of his book when the blob curled up on the other end of the couch uttered its first noise since it collapsed.

“Damian, can I ask you a question?”

“That’s counterproductive Dupain-Cheng, you already did even though you didn’t hadn’t had my permission.”

Using his book as a shield, he was able to block the incoming pillow assault before it made contact. “I apologize. Was the correct response; what can I do for you my liege?”

This time a shoe flew toward his face, one he narrowly missed.

“Jon. Is he single by chance?”

Damian couldn’t help the smug smile that pulled at his lips.

“What’s it to you whether he’s single or not?”

The red that crept up her neck confirmed his suspicions before her blubbering even began.

“It’s nothing to me! It’s just that Jon never talks about a girlfriend and it’s not because I don’t think he can get a girlfriend, I mean he’s a very attractive guy, but not that I think he’s super attractive, that’s just stating facts that everyone knows and-”

“You’re rambling.”

Closing his book, Damian turned his attention to his red friend, who’s pout brought a smile to his face.

“Damian, I think-I think I want to ask Jon to be my Valentine.”

Damian couldn’t help the snort that escaped earning a groan from Marinette as she buried her face in her hands.

“There were nicer ways to tell me it wasn’t possible you little demon.”

“Hey now, if you start pulling out cruel nicknames like that, I won’t help you.”

Instantly her head popped up, a doubtful expression monopolizing her face.

“Why would you want to help me, huh?”

Reaching down into his bag Damian bit back the sigh as he sacrificed another notebook to his friends.

“Let’s just say, I’m very invested in the outcome of this Valentine’s Day. Now get to writing.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Two days had passed; Valentine’s Day arrived and Damian hated to admit how curious he was to if the two love-struck idiots had followed his advice.

He got his answer as he entered their favorite hangout spot only to find it covered in bouquets.

“Damian Wayne, you have some serious explaining to do.” Damian ducked on instinct as a batarang flew over his head impaling itself on the nearest wall. “If you were setting people up with the stunning Marinette Dupain-Cheng, why wasn’t I at the top of the list?”

“Sorry Steph, I didn’t think she was all that into blondes.”

“Wipe that shit-eating smirk off your face!” Damian moved to the side as Stephanie lunged at him, her fist dusting the side of his shirt. “You know good and well she used to be into blondes!”

“Jon beat you to asking.” With a shrug of his shoulders, he gently pushed her backward watching as she dramatically flung herself into the couch. “Now will you please shut up? Marinette will be here at any moment.”

As if on cue, the whirl of the Zeta tube echoed through the hangout snapping Jon’s attention into place as he fumbled with the gift bag in his hand. The soft click of Marinette’s heels confirmed her presence as Damian slapped his hand over Stephanie’s mouth.

“Oh mon Dieu, what is all this?”

Damian could feel the nerves rolling off of Jon slamming into him. It was almost as if he was begging him to swoop in and explain why the place was covered in her favorite flowers. He really was hopeless.

“Uhm, well, uh, you see, I-uh-I heard that you like violets. Which I thought was strange because your favorite color is pink but then I also heard that they are one of the few flowers you can always find inspiration from and I wanted you to have as much inspiration as you could ever need.”

It was quick like he was trying to spill his every thought in one breath, but at least he got it out of his mouth.

“That was very nice of you Jon. I’m sure I’ll never run out of inspiration now.” Marinette’s chuckle was soft and Damian was sure he could hear the blush from where he and Stephanie remained crouched. “I, uh-well-I got something for you.”

Without waiting for a response, Marinette shoved her gift box into his arms causing Jon to half chuck his gift at her as well. Their nervous laughter was too much, Damian felt like he was going to die of second-hand embarrassment for them. The sound of tearing paper and tissue flying earned enough of a curious glance from the boy.

Their gasps were in sync earning a small smirk from the boy. With the power of observation, he was able to read both of his friends like an open book.

“You made me a leather jacket? Marinette this is so cool! It looks just like Conner’s! How did you know?”

“How did I know? How did you know that I had been eyeballing this thread set? You’re amazing Jon.”

The noise died down and for a moment, Damian was worried they had reverted back to their awkward selves. Just as he was about to turn back for another look, two shadows loomed over his hiding spot.

“Holy shit! You guys are so quiet!” Stephanie fled from her spot, grasping at her chest. Damian allowed himself a second to exhale as well.

“Damiboo,” he cut his eyes at Marinette sending her a warning look, “did you perchance give both of us advice for Valentine’s day?”

“Tsk, I did no such thing.”

As if on cue, they both raised their matching notebooks, matching smirks on their faces.

“Aww, Dami does love us!” Marinette flung her arms over his shoulders, Jon followed close behind.

“Get off of me you delinquents. I only helped you so that you two would go out and let me finish reading my damn book!”

The two of them were a giggling mess as they finally released him, comparing their notes as they moved toward the zeta tubes. Damian watched precariously as his two friends slowly intertwined fingers, their laughter fading with them as the tube closed. Ensuring they would not pop right back in, Damian finally released a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.

Moving to the couch, Damian fished for his book that he left hidden underneath the cushions. Just twenty more pages. The end felt like it would never come.  Just as he slipped the bookmark out of place, the weight on the couch shifted as Stephanie exhaled loudly.

“If you like playing Love Doctor so much, why don’t you ever set me up with anyone?”

“Perhaps it’s because I don’t hate anyone enough to set them up with you.”

Damian didn’t even bother to dodge the pillow that knocked his book from his hands. With a huff, he pulled out his final notebook making a mental note to have Alfred pick up some more.

“Here.”

The way she looked at him made him feel as though he had grown a second head, but she accepted the notebook, opening it to a fresh page.

“Who do you hate-”

“Don’t talk, just write. I really would like to finish my book today.”

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[incoherentbabblings]

can i get a long post about why tim/steph worked out when tim/ari, tim/zo and tim/cassie didn't?

To be honest, I really struggled with this one because...well, so here’s the thing. Tim and Steph didn’t work out. That is, if you are saying 2011 is the end of that timeline with those specific iterations of those characters, Tim and Stephanie as a couple failed. Fairly spectacularly really. Like, you can make an argument that people died because of it even. Twice if you count the very end of Robin with all the crap with Ulysses. 

There are things which they got right that the others didn’t, sure. And you can say Convergence was the genuine last time we saw those iterations of those characters, in which case, yes, they got there in the end. And though I would like to think that the two would have reunited in the end, their respective solo runs do not end with them as a couple. Tim doesn’t even really get a mention in Steph’s final issue, and vice versa. Like, they focus on the main thematic points of their series - Tim and his relationship with his fathers, Stephanie and justifying her existence as a vigilante. Don’t get me wrong they matter deeply to each other and they probably do still love each other...they just have more important things on their mind when the other is not in the room.

But even so, between 2004 and 2015 (or 2016 if you count Rebirth instead of Convergence), Tim and Stephanie were not a couple. And one of the reason they failed was the same as for Arianna, Zoanne, Tam etc., didn’t work out. (Cassie is kind of it’s own ballpark). Tim could not keep his girlfriends in the loop. Either as Robin or as Tim Drake. There are other things that made them flatline, and I think at the end of the day what made Tim’s relationship with Steph fail was a little different, but that’s the jist. For the long and short of it:

Ari/Zo: Largely Tim’s fault. Too secretive about Robin.

Tam: Entirely Tim’s fault. Too secretive about both Tim and Red Robin.

Steph: Equally at fault. She trusted Bruce over Tim. Tim didn’t trust her enough period.

Cassie: Equally at fault. Grief is not a good reason for a rebound.

Lynx: Boy was just horny.

So, for Ariana, it was genuinely just because they were too young. They were fourteen when they split up. Ariana said it was because they were getting too serious at too young an age; Tim because he was tired of lying to her about Robin and also the will they/won’t they of Tim and Steph had been rolling on for fifty plus issues and Steph was just a more interesting character than Ari and was the preferred option by the readers so hey. There you go. End of. Tim cheated on her with Steph repeatedly, emotionally and smooching. Ari cheated because she felt ignored and left behind by Tim. He fell asleep in the car as she was telling him. Also Ari was insecure, because she was fourteen and every fourteen year old is insecure, so she did things like dye her hair (because Tim was staring at Steph at funeral not because he was gobsmacked by her beauty or anything it was less of a ‘holy shit she’s so pretty and blond’ and more of a ‘holy shit if she sees me my secret identity is blown’) or try to keep Tim’s attention on her by sleeping together. Which, again, they were fourteen. So in many ways, she was right in her reasoning. There was a lot going on there for people barely starting adolescence, but Tim’s general emotional and physical absence made their problems seem huge and overwhelming, when really, it was just because they were fourteen. Everything is such a big deal when you’re fourteen.

It’s kind of a similar thing with Zo. Now, I don’t know if it was intentional, but it’s sometimes said that your next partner after a big breakup is often the complete opposite of your previous. Zo comes from a nice middle class background with parents who are still together and are very loving. She is very school orientated and in fact tutored Tim. She is also (bless her) very boring. Which is arguably what Tim wanted. He’s still trying to convince himself that there’s a Tim Drake life worth living. However, same issues as Ari arise. Emotional and physical absence. Only this time it’s both the pressure or Robin plus the lovely trauma of dead family and friends. He can’t keep up with Tim Drake anymore. He falls asleep on a rollercoaster and can’t tell Zo why. He cheats on her with Steph (again emotionally and smooching). He breaks up with her over the phone. He kinda gets a bit grabby and manhandle-ly at points, physically lifting and carting her around when they are having an argument and she does not want to listen. Tim is... not good to Zo. At all. 

Ari and Zo fail as relationships because they only know Tim Drake, except who Tim Drake is... is Robin. So they aren’t really in a relationship with Tim as a whole, so inevitably they both crumble.

The reason Cassie didn’t work out was just because they were out of their minds with grief. The cult arc and the cloning was bad. Like it was just a bad storyline. Rebounds like that (which timeline wise was occurring at the same time Tim was taking an interest in Zo) were bound to fail. Cassie deserves better!!!!!!!!!! Stupid goddamn writers.

Tam is tricky. Because she, like Steph, actually gets the privilege of knowing about Tim and Red Robin. She does it ‘backwards’, so her issue is having the realisation that yeah Red Robin is really cool but Tim Drake is a mess. And he still lies to her. There’s a few times where she has moments of realisation of how messed up Tim Drake is by the time she meets him. Her leaving is explicitly because that cool person who saved her from the LoA is also the kind of person to lie and throw people under the bus if it serves the greater good (what Tim thinks is the greater good). And she wants no part in that. It’s emotionally taxing to say the least. Also Tim cheats on her with Lynx. Constantly. And Steph, less constantly. He deserved that slap to be honest.

So we’re left with Steph. Steph also does things backwards, meeting Robin first. However, she gets moments with Tim (kind of) before she knows who Tim actually is. So she gets to go to the cinema with him. She gets her birthing classes with him. She gets the evenings sat at her kitchen table chatting about school. She gets him before the absolute shit show that was 2004/5 for Tim Drake. She is more patient than the other girls, either owing to a general lack of self esteem (hence being more willing to put up with long unexplained absences' than the others) or just by nature. At the same time she’s also more likely to tell Tim to belt up when he’s being mopey or secretive or whatever. Tim to be fair makes it pretty clear the ground rules of the relationship - she can’t be in all aspects of his life. Managing expectations and all that.

This fails. Obviously. Bruce is Bruce and uses Stephanie repeatedly to manipulate Tim. And she trusts Bruce. Repeatedly. For reasons. Bad writing. Low self esteem. Desire for approval making her throw out common sense. 

But, here’s why maybe Tim and Steph would one day work again. It’s a minor thing I know, but Tim falls asleep on his girlfriends a lot, as I have shown above. What is Steph’s reaction when he does so?

Sweet dreams then, honey...

She knows him. So she is able to put the pieces together. Zo and Ari were not given that opportunity, so it could be said they couldn’t ever love Tim because they didn’t know him. Tam didn’t even like who Tim was when they broke up. Cassie never really stopped loving Conner. Steph pretty much consistently remained in love with Tim, and vice versa, even after their relationship imploded. It’s a lot easier to forgive your significant other for things like falling asleep over the phone when you know there’s a high chance they were probably out all last night working a case you know? 

Stephanie had the sheer determination (stupidity) to stay around Tim until brick by brick (hoho) she was allowed behind those walls into all aspects of his life (unlike Zo and Ari), and she loved all aspects of Tim, regardless of how... disagreeable those aspects or actions were (Tam).

Flipping over to Tim’s feelings towards the girls... Steph won over Ari because he enjoyed sharing his night life with someone who understood. She was wittier, sharper, and less insecure than Ari. Steph won over Zo because of the omg you’re not dead factor and by this point she was a presence in both Tim and Robin’s lives so was just around him more often. And again, bless her, Zo was kinda dull, especially in comparison to Steph.

Steph didn’t win over Cassie or Tam as such but Tim did make a move on her whilst dating Tam. The problems that had ruined their relationship at the end of the Robin run had been proven moot after she’d shown how much she’d matured. So it’s possible in Tim’s mind, just for that split second on the roof, he thought things could go back to the way they were. Only for Steph to remind him that one of the reasons she had grown so much was because of his absence. And then he had the lovely reminder that Tam existed via engagement announcement.

Finally Lynx... well. He just wanted to bonk there to be honest. Which is fine. If he wasn’t seeing Tam at the same time. 

#TimDrakeStopCheatingOnYourCivilianGirlfriendsChallenge

[whereflowersbloom]

Reflections.

I once dreamed of making someone happy. Conner thinks to himself.

It was a simple dream that He almost gave up on. Happiness is intangible, enigmatic. It was a concept difficult for him to grasp. Happiness proved not to be so simple, after all. Simple to think about, sometimes abstract, incredibly hard to reach out for. It was something people looked for their entire life. It’s said even for human its impossible to be completely content without desiring more. He had read somewhere that a joyful life was made up of joyful moments, gracefully strung together by trust, gratitude and inspiration. At times he wondered if he was capable of experiencing happiness. But the question plaguing his mind was; could he make anyone happy? He felt it slipping between his fingers every time he believed he was closer to it. He observed his hand, this hand was created to serve as Lex Luthor’s puppet. Then Clark gave him a new purpose, fight crime, work to bring justice to those who are oppressed, protect them and the world. But this hand longed to holds another. One that belonged to a certain girl he knew well. He had no doubts something was missing from his life and he was desperate to get it. But he couldn’t help but think of that tiny, pale, hand filling him with warmth he never knew he craved for. Until he grabbed hold of it and Conner didn’t want to let go of it.

He felt as if he had no right. And being honest he didn’t. He wasn’t like her. Perhaps he couldn’t express his desires, emotions, transform them into words. Humans also said actions speak louder than words, right? For the first time, being quick to act could prove to be rather convenient in his case.

~~~

Raven stared off into emptiness, deep in thoughts, her brows knitted, as if she was concentrated trying to solve a puzzle. She hadn’t touched her tea. Then Donna decided to speak. “Okay. What’s going on with you today.”

Raven snaps out of it and looks at Donna, realizing she’d been too absorbed in her own world. She sips her tea slowly. It was getting cold. No reason to be mysterious with Donna. She could use her perspective. “Do you have any idea why Conner is acting strange lately?” She asks her Amazonian friend, curious if she had the answer, noticed something she didn’t.

Donna stares at her friend for a couple of minutes, before tipping her head back and letting out a sonorous laugh. “I simply cannot believe this. You know for an empath. You have no idea what’s going on around you.” she says pointedly, raising her left eyebrow, her shoulders still shaking as the giggles subside.

Raven massaged her temples and sighs. “You know I try to set boundaries. I don’t want to invade his personal space or anyone’s.” And it was true. She found a way to let her walls up preventing her from trespassing her teammates emotional property.

“In a tower full of teenagers that must be hard. You have my respect.” Donna replies solemnly.

“Raven, I’m serious. The only reason I found it funny is because, if there’s anything certain in this universe, it’s that Kon-El has a crush on you. I’m pretty sure it was written in the stars by the Gods before he was even created. Look at the poor boy.” Donna explains logically.

“I can’t say I agree with you. We are just friends.” Raven looks away blushing. “Even if it was true. Then why hasn’t he said anything yet?” She battles internally, not sure if she should believe her friend. Donna wasn’t lying though. She knew it.

Donna shrugs lightly, resting her chin on her hand, pondering her next words. “Maybe he has been saying it and you just haven’t been listening.” She places a hand on Raven’s shoulder, sliming at her warmly. “Think about it carefully.” She said those words as she walked out of the room.

Raven doesn’t say anything. Disbelief and curiosity struck her speechless. Her mind races with words she cannot utter. She had to meditate on this.

~~~

They were at the library. It was a lovely, quiet escape from the bustling city. It sat in the middle of Jump City, built in the 80’s after its old incarnation had burned down. She was reading, as usual,she was always reading. Sometimes it’s a history book, sometimes it’s a fiction book. There’s countless topics, genres, so much to learn and study. She makes annotations on a notebook she carries around.

After a few minutes, Raven felt Conner’s gaze on her and realised he had been staring the whole time. She found she didn’t mind, they were friends but it made her feel self-conscious, her cheeks reddened. Conner’s stare felt different from others, it was intense, warm rather than cold, expressing affection, and rather than making her feel on edge, it made her feel safe.

“What are you reading now.?” A curious voice asked her, getting her attention. He looks up at her, just blinking for a few seconds, smiling only the way Conner did, making him look so boyish and mischievous, those dazzling light blue eyes. She cleared her throat, and shook her head, blushing at the thoughts that kept popping into her head. She shows her the pile of books she got, about astronomy, psychology and some romance novels she managed to find. She mentions it’s his turn to show her what he’s reading. He seems embarrassed when he shows her the cover of the book and tells her that it’s poetry. Oh. She did notice he was showing interest in poetry lately.

“Always poetry” she teases him. “They’re not always poetry.” he tells her, as if he has anything to prove, as if she wouldn’t think it’s so very much him. He looks away, slightly blushing, setting his mouth in a pout. Raven giggles, finding his reaction enchantingly cute. Mumbles he should recite some to her when they go back to the Tower. Conner runs his hand through his dark hair, trying his best to overcome his shyness and mutters. “Maybe.”

He looks at his watch and rubs his neck awkwardly. Hesitant to speak. “Would you like to get a cup of tea?” He asked her, gulping. Waiting for her answer. He stumbles over his words, but gathers courage to speak confidently. “You usually have your tea around 6:00pm.” Open mouthed Raven is surprised he knew exactly what time she had her tea. Her mind goes back to Donna’s words. For a minute her theory isn’t unfathomable. It makes sense. She smiles brightly at him. “I guess it’s time for tea and a snack.” He offered his hand to Raven and she took it, helping her stand up. Conner took her books from the table, carrying them for her and they walked out of the library.

~~~

They decide to try a new place they heard about. ‘Saint Aymes’. Its windows are bordered by wisteria and other seasonal blooms, bringing a sense of spring to this tranquil, autumn day. Walking in they were instantly drawn to the warm atmosphere. The plants gave it a cozy, earthy feel. It felt like a secret, upscale treehouse, it smelled like roasted coffee beans, vanilla, cinnamon and freshly baked pastries.

She stands in front of the glass, examining every single cake and muffin, searching for the one with that looks like it would taste the best. She’d happily stare there all day to decide, Conner next to her attempting to contain his excitement, her sweet-toothed best friend. Knowing him he’d want to try every possible option. She can see some vanilla buttercream buns, all kind of donuts, strawberry cream filled danish, some lemon cakes, but there’s a queue forming behind them, people coughing and tapping their feet, and the cashier’s rolling her eyes. “Just let me know which one you want. You can go find a place for us.” Conner offers. She considers it and agrees. Pointing a mini lemon raspberry cheesecake. Raven whispers a ‘thank you.’

She looks around and finds a couch with a table in the corner, the perfect spot for them, there’s some paintings on the wall, hanging. She leaned against the couch, sinking tiredly into the plush cushions as exhaustion sank in. Yes, this was rather nice in its own way. A peaceful, cold autumn afternoon, enjoying a cup of tea and pastries with her friend.

Conner comes back carrying two steaming cups, one was her Earl Grey tea, the other she was certain it was hot chocolate. It was his favorite. he placed down both cups on the table in front of them. A staff member brought them a plate with all kind of pastries. Thee was barely enough room on the table now. Raven looked at him suppressing a giggle. Conner blinked several times and shrugged his shoulders shyly. “I was hungry.”

Before she said a word about her tea. He said “I know it. Milk and two teaspoons of honey, right?” He speaks, lifting his right eyebrow, a smile tugging up the corner of his mouth. Conner was strangely observant in that way. It struck her a sweet gesture.

They were too engrossed in their conversation, the endless topics they talked about, about culture, politics, books, the list was infinite. The way Raven laughs quietly, her smart comments. He liked to think they were close, doing things friends usually do, bonding, having fun. And yet. There was something remote about her, he thought. Something unreachable, like the watery depths beneath a frozen lake. He wouldn’t mind submerging, until he found the bottom, drowning in that mystic, pure, vast lake.

All the pastries almost gone except for the last one a chocolate walnut strudel. It looked mouthwatering delicious. She finished her tea and she was still a little hungry.but she couldn’t take it. Surely Conner picked it. She can’t. She raises her eyes, decided to give it up, when they meet his gaze. They are sitting there staring at each other, it feels like time stops. It takes him less than a minute to understand what she wanted, and urgently trying to hide.

“Here,” he says, breaking some of it off, exactly in a half, he was finally good at calculating the amount of strength he needed to use, so he didn’t destroy things. “You can have half.” Something that tended to happen more than he wanted to admit.

“But, it’s yours and you love chocolate!” Raven said anxiously. He’d done enough for her.

“Nope. I got it for both.” His face unconsciously getting closer. “I want you to have half.” He speaks frankly. Raven opens her mouth to say he didn’t have to do it, too late, he cuts in.

“No buts.” He stops her and grins cheerfully. “What’s the point in spending an evening, eating a tasty dessert with your best friend if you can’t share it with her?”

“But you’re always doing things for me.” She bits her lips. Old habit, as they say hard to die. He gave her so much. She pondered how he could be so kindhearted, good-natured, and selfless. She wasn’t referring just to sharing a pastry or his gallantry. It was everything.

One look and she gives up the idea of saying no. He seemed so impeccable , innocent, sometimes too good for this corrupted world. She doesn’t reply, sighs defeated and takes the piece from him and tastes it. It was exquisite. “Thank you.” She says to him. She thanks him wholeheartedly, warmly. She couldn’t imagine spending days like this with anyone else. And Conner can see the gratitude showing in her cosmic eyes. He understands. He simply smiles.

Maybe Donna was right. Did Conner had a crush on her? Actions. ‘You aren’t listening’. The signs are all there. He knows everything about her, the details. She could not have predicted growing this close with another person in such a short amount of time. She’s been living in the a Tower for years with Gar, Jaime and the others. Conner was different. What began as a mere trickle in a stream suddenly grew like the currents of a river. She was almost shocked at how easy it felt to be attuned to each other’s rhythms. As though they had known each other for years. How did she feel though? It was so sudden. She didn’t want to find out for now.

Conner thinks perhaps happiness isn’t as complex as humans make it sound. No. It doesn’t have to take an entire lifetime to look for, search frantically everywhere. In his own words, his mind, his being. Happiness was this moment. Moments with her, a fraction of infinity. That was his very own version of happiness.

More konrae @grassfour @ravenfan1242 @andthendk 🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈💙💜💜💙💜

[queerbutstillhere-writes]

Mutual Pining

"I'm going to literally put my head through a wall."

"Pftt, why?"

Cissie shot a glare at Cassie, then turned, pointing at Bart.

"So? He's just . . . What is he doing?"

Bart was sitting on the beanbags in the corner of Cassie's room, just . . . Staring into space. He never sat still. Ever. Not for this long, anyway.

"He's been like this for weeks, Cassie."

"Why?" Cassie asked her girlfriend, shifting to look at her phone better.

"Take a wild guess."

Cassie sighed and set down the device, looking up at her fellow blonde, thinking. What could have Bart Allen literally moping.

Oh.

"Is it because of Tim?"

Cassie had overheard Bart talking to Cissie once about his crush on Tim. It sounded like he was in pretty deep, but no one knew Tim's sexuality.

"Close."

"Close? How can I be wrong, is there anything else that boy thinks of?"

"Yep. Well. Two things. Food, and . . ."

"And what?" Cassie asked, narrowing her eyes.

Cissie seemed less annoyed and more just amused now. Amused at holding this over Cassie, watching her struggle for the truth.

"What is the one thing, everyone on this team, has all been head over heels for?"

Cassie blinked at Cissie. Then she slowly turned to look at Bart. Then back at Cissie.

"OH MY GOD, KON?!?!"

Tim tapped angrily at the edge of the desk, scowling at his computer screen, then looking down at the case file.

"What's got your bat-panties in a twist?"

Tim didn't bother to respond. Nor did he bother to look up at Dick as the older vigilante walked over and ruffled his hair.

"Hey. You're tapping, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just tap."

This was true. He would bounce his leg or drum on surfaces or two against his collarbone. He just did that. It wasn't even something he thought about or noticed anymore.

"Okay. That's fair. But why are you glaring at the computer screen like it personally wronged you."

"It has. This case isn't panning out like I thought."

Dick was silent for a bit.

"Kon called earlier."

"Oh?"

Dick nodded, still reading the monitor. "He sounded worried. Said something about you missing a meeting?"

"They had training drills today. I couldn't make it."

A few beats of silence.

"Why not? You weren't doing anything. It's summer break."

"I was working on this case."

"So you skipped training with some of your only friends because of a case?"

Tim scowled deeper. Why was Dick questioning him? Why couldn't Dick just mind his own business? Tim didn't want to discuss it anyway. Besides, it's not like he was avoiding his friends or anything. No, nothing like that.

"It's an important case."

Dick snorted. "No offense Tim, but I don't really think the theft of those two paintings are really all that important. Besides, you know Bruce was just going to ask Selina."

Tim neglected to answer, leaning forwards and hitting a few buttons to run a program search.

"Why are you avoiding them."

To his credit, Tim didn't react, just watched code run across the screen as his program worked. Then he slowly looked over at Dick. His question had not been worded as a question. It had very much been worded as a statement. You're avoiding your friends and I want to know why.

"I'm not."

"You are. Normally when I would mention Kon, you'd at least grin or something, but just now you sat there and scowled like Bruce. Oh god are you becoming Bruce? Oh no, we need to get you help, quick-"

Dick grabbed Tim by the armpits and started pulling.

"Quit!" Tim said, but did laugh a bit, smacking at Dick with one hand as he grabbed onto the desk with the other, holding himself in place.

"Come on, Timmy, what's wrong?"

Dick asked, going serious once more as he sat on the desk, facing Tim.

Alright. Time to take a calculated risk. Talk to Dick, your kind of older brother who definitely has more relationship practice, and also practice with this certain issue, or continue to be harassed by him.

Then again, telling him could lead to more harassment.

Does Dick know he's gay?

Never mind, just don't mention genders and he'll probably assume you mean the girls.

"Okay. Okay fine. Don't tell anyone about this."

"My lips are sealed," Dick promised, smiling and pulling a leg up, knee against his chest.

"I thought I had a crush on one of my friends."

"Okay."

"Except now I think I have a crush on two of them."

Dick was silent for a moment, head tilted at him, considering this.

"Kon and Bart?"

Tim scowled, crossing his arms, facing Dick fully.

"Why did you immediately assume them?"

"I'm a detective the same as you are, Tim. I have eyes. I see the way you look at them, the way you act, posturing and showing off. I know how to recognize teen boys with crushes."

"Except when you're the teen boy with a crush."

Dick snorted, shaking his head. "Yeah, unless it's me. So am I right."

Tim hesitated, then nodded.

"So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know! I really like them both, but Kon's so straight and Bart . . . Bart just doesn't talk about relationship and things so I have no clue what he thinks."

Dick nodded distantly, and Tim really hoped he was thinking of ways to help and not ways to mock.

"Have you, and this just an idea. Have you considered asking them?"

"Why would I do that?"

"To find out?"

"Dick they don't even know I'm not straight!" Tim exclaimed, feeling more annoyed than anything.

"So tell them." Dick shrugged.

"That's not how this works."

"Tim. They're your friends. I highly doubt either of them have a problem with it. . . Now the crush thing, that may be an issue.

Tim groaned and dropped his head to the desk, banging it a few times.

So what if he had a crush on his two best friends. It didn't matter. He wouldn't say anything. It's not like he wanted to hold their hands and kiss them and cuddle and- no, it's not like he absolutely craved any of that.

Besides, even if he did come out to them, he'd have to pick between them, and he didn't think he could.

He'd have to pick, right?

"Why are you moping, kid?"

Kon glanced up at Kyle, scowling.

"I'm not moping."

"Oh you soo are."

Kyle easily picked up a huge piece of cement debris with his ring and spun, putting it on the big green truck full of other debris.

"I'm not!"

Kyle snorted, floating down to be level with Kon, who had done a third of the work Kyle had done so far.

"Sure. No moping, got it. So what is the cause of your Not-Moping?"

"None of your business," Kon muttered, picking up a piece of cement tangled with steel and turned, placing it on Kyle's construct truck.

"Okay okay. Do you want me to go get Supes then because-"

"No! Don't you dare!"

Kyle cracked a grin, creating two chairs with his constructs.

"Sit down and tell doc Kyle."

"I hate you."

But Conner sat down in the chaise like construct, glaring at the Green Lantern.

"I'm having relationship issues."

"Oh god that's a fucking mood. What's happening."

"There's this guy I really like. . . "

"Oh."

"Except, it's not just one guy."

"Oof."

"Yeah. And I don't think either of them know I'm not straight and that I like boys too, and I don't . . . Liking both of them is a problem."

"Ah, a classic love triangle. Alright, you want help cracking this?"

Kon took a deep breath, ready to yell at Kyle and tell him to piss off.

"So step one, you gotta come out to them. If one is like "ew, gross" then they're off the table," Kyle started, not even waiting for permission. "Two, see who you fit better with, personality wise, who do you get along with more. Three, make a decision. Probably regret it later."

". . . Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Kyle."

"See, I do know things! Like I know that you're way behind on clean up so you better get your ass in there!"

Kon scoffed as Kyle shoved him forwards, toward the debris, but he just returned to picking up, thinking as he worked.

Kyle was right. He should come out first. He'd been meaning to for a while, anyway. He'd only dated girls so far, but he still very much liked boys. Especially, as he had recently realized, Tim and Bart.

He was so screwed.

Why did he have to fall for both of them?

Bart was going to vibrate out of his skin.

The problem literally wasn't with him this time.

For once.

See, where he had come from, relationships were just whatever you made of them. Sexuality was more fluid and open, gender was just weird, standard relationships weren't necessarily between two people, sometimes there was as many as five people in one relationship. Sometimes there were even more. But. That's not how things worked here.

But he was going to vibrate out of his skin because he wanted to date his best friends and that's not how things worked here.

He just wanted cuddle piles and kissing and holding hands with both of them. Because he was in love with both of them.

And right now he was stuck, watching them flirt, and realizing that if anyone was going to get to date them, it would be each other and he wouldn't be involved. He'd be lonely.

Cue "All By Myself" by Celine Dion.

It was obvious Kon and Tim liked each other. They did all the typical flirty things, showing off, trying to one up each other, so on and so forth. They grinned at each other and touched each other and stared fondly at each other from across the room. Bart saw it all. And he knew he would never be the receiving end of all those looks and little things.

Only he was. And for all his speed, he never saw it.

He never saw how Tim fondly smiled and shook his head when Bart zipped off to do something silly. He never saw how Kon would just space off staring at him, a stupid grin plastered on his face. He never noticed the fond comments and nudges and smiles. He never really paid attention to how Kon often threw an arm around his shoulders as he traded him. And he never really noticed how Tim was always checking on him first after the team got hit hard. He didn't notice these things.

And boy, he would have gone into this conversation a lot different if he had.

They were all three just hanging out, laying around in the lounge area of their headquarters, Bart was laying half off the sofa, playing a video game on his DS. He wasn't really paying attention to what the others were doing because he was focused for once. Then Kon spoke.

"Hey, can uh. . . Can you two listen for a moment."

"Yup," Bart responded instantly, even as he moved so his feet were on top of the sofa and his head was dangling off.

"No like. Really listen, Bart."

So Bart sighed and paused the game, setting it down and looking back at Kon. Once he had Tim's attention, he spoke again.

"I'm . . . Uh, I'm bi."

Tim blinked at him, Bart scowled.

"What's that," he asked, and then gave a little wave. "Bye?"

Kon snorted and shook his head. "No, imp, bi. Bisexual. I like boys and girls."

"Oh. . . Huh. Neat."

Kon seemed nervous. Why was he nervous? Did he think they would accept him? That would be dumb if him, Bart was pretty sure he had mentioned how things worked in the future. So maybe he was worried about Tim? But why would he worry about Tim? Tim was their best friend. Why would Tim judge?

Kon was, in fact, looking at Tim now.

"Okay. Thank you for trusting us," Tim said with a smile.

A forced smile. His face was carefully controlled, even Bart could see that. Kon could definitely see it.

"Sorry if this uh, makes anything weird?"

Tim just shook his head. "No, you don't need to apologize, Kon. We want you to feel comfortable with us."

Kon nodded once, but stayed quiet. Bart glanced between them, as they were staring at each other, then sighed sadly, picking up his DS again.

Loneellyyyyy, I'm so lonnnellyyyy.

Ohmigodohmigodohmigodohmiodohmigodohmigodohmigodohmigodohmigodohmigodohmigodohmigod

Tim's brain had been screaming that for hours now, ever since Kon had come out.

So sue him for going to Blüdhaven instead of Gotham.

He banged on the window that he knew Dick climbed in and out of, waiting until the other vigilante slid it open.

"You know I have a front door, right?" Dick asked, leaning on the window sill.

"I know but I need to talk, are you free?"

"Not particularly."

Dick pointed behind him and Tim looked past to see a couple of the Titans inside, eating pizza that he could just now smell. His mouth started watering.

"Let him in, Dickiebird! We'll stay quiet!"

Dick squinted at Tim, but he knew it was directed to Roy.

"Yeah, fine, you can come in if you still want to talk with them here."

Tim found himself sat on the only free armchair, pizza in hand. He looked at the Titans, and then shrugged, taking a breath.

"You know that guy I was telling you about," Tim started warily, not wanting to out Kon to all of his brothers friends.

"The one you liked?"

"Yeah. The one with the dark hair."

Dick nodded. Thankfully he had picked up that Tim was trying to avoid names.

"He just told me that he's bi."

"Hey! That's great!" Dick exclaimed, grinning.

"Yeah. . ."

"You gonna tell him, or?"

Tim was silent for a bit, munching on his pizza.

"Should I? But what about the other . . ."

"Oh you're right," Dick scowled at the floor.

The Titans exchanged looks.

"What's going on?" Donna asked finally.

"Tim here has a crush on two separate guys, who are pretty close friends," Dick explained vaguely.

"Oh, classic. That sucks dude," Wally said, nodding and looking thoughtful.

It was Roy who shrugged and said the words that would be stuck on Tim's mind for the next month.

"Date them both."

Well step one had failed ultimately. Or well, rather, it went amazing.

But he was still stuck with having crushes on both Tim and Bart.

The problem is - as Tim had also previously complained about, unbeknownst to Kon - Tim is like, straight straight, and Bart just doesn't seem interested in relationships.

So he was so fucking screwed.

He was just laying in bed, moping and feeling sorry for himself, when there was a shout from downstairs.

"Kon! There's a girl on the phone for ya!"

Kon scowled at the ceiling. Phone? It was probably Cassie. But what could she want. With a sigh he pushed himself out of bed, grabbing a shirt and putting it on as he walked downstairs.

"Ma, where's the phone?" He asked as he got downstairs, stopping in the kitchen where Ma Kent was aggressively kneading dough.

She pointed at a wireless phone on the counter so he grabbed it, stepping out onto the back deck.

"Hello?"

"Hi. I'm tired of playing babysitter, come pick Bart up."

"Cissie?"

"Yep. Hi."

"Wait, babysitter? What's going on?"

Cissie paused, speaking to someone else on the other end of the phone.

"Yeah. Max left Bart in my charge for the day and I can't handle his moping anymore."

"Moping? Bart, moping?"

"It doesn't sound believable, but come get him and you'll see."

"Okay, let me to ask Ma."

40 minutes later, Kon was landing outside Cissie's house, knocking on the door out of courtesy before walking in. He first thing he noticed was one Bart Allen laying on the sofa, staring at the tv.

"Bart?"

"Kon!"

And just like that the ginger was hugging him tightly, eyes squeezed close as he squeezed around Kon's stomach. Kon just grunted lightly and hugged Bart back.

"Hey, imp. What's with you? Sis said you've been moping?"

"I-" Bart pulled away, scowling. "Not moping."

Kon snorted, but scooped Bart up, tossing him over his shoulder easily. Bart squealed in protest, grabbing Kon's belt loops.

"Where's Cissie anyway?"

"Dunno."

Kon carried him through the house, not even bothered by his weight. He weighed like maybe a 100 pounds anyway. They found Cissie in her bedroom, painting her nails and listening to music.

"What are you doing? Leaving a child unattended like this?"

Cissie looked up, eyebrow raising.

"What are you doing? Carrying a child like a sack of potatoes?"

"He's not a child."

"You just called him a child!"

Kon just grinned at Cissie and she rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, feel free to take him home."

"Really, you're just gonna do that?" Kon asked, feeling shocked that Cissie would just dump Bart, one of her best friends, on him like this.

"Yeah. It's you he wants to hang out with anyway."

"Cissie!" Bart complained, bracing his hands against Kon's back.

"Am I wrong?!"

"Shut up!"

Okay what was going on here?"

"Just have him back by like, I dunno, what time was Max coming to get you?"

"Nine."

"Okay. Have him back by eight thirty."

So Kon ended up leaving with Bart.

They raced back to Kansas, causing sonic booms and destroying a few fields along their way, but Bart was laughing and having fun, so that's all that really mattered.

When they got back to the farm, Ma Kent immediately had some chores for them to do, so they spent a few hours doing that and then stumbled inside, crashing on Kon's bed, side by side, still giggling from something Kon had said. Bart looked over at him, going quiet, smiling softly.

"What?" Kon asked, not knowing that he was also smiling back.

"Nothing. I just missed you."

"Oh."

Silence. Bart's eyes were really gold.

Why were they gold?

Who knows, but they're gorgeous. Kon really likes his eyes.

And then he was leaning in and lightly kissing Bart.

There was this slight pause, before their lips met, where he was leaning in. They were just inches apart, breath mixing, noses almost touching. Kon looked up at Barts beautiful golden eyes, as they both hesitated. It would have only been a mere second for anyone without speed based powers, but for them, the moment stretched out for a while. Kon was waiting, giving Bart the opportunity to pull away, to set down boundaries.

But then Bart's eyes slid shut and he tilted his face up towards Kon. This was permission if Kon had ever seen it, and he closed the small distance, lightly pressing their lips together.

It was soft and sweet and timid. Bart's lips were slightly chapped, probably from all the running in the wind - could he get Tim or Wally to make a super hydrating chapstick formula? - but Kon couldn't care less, because he was kissing Bart.

Kon pulled away first, pulling back far enough to look at Bart, who was steadily grinning more and more, slowly pulling his eyes open.

"You-"

Then he giggled, and kept giggling, rolling away and pressing his face into the sheets.

"What?" Kon asked, confused. But Bart kept giggling and Kon frowned. "What?!"

Kon rolled over so he was practically laying on top of Bart, tickling him, causing him to laugh harder, squealing and trying to get away from Kon. Obviously he didn't actually want to, or he would have been on the other side of the room by now.

By the time Bart finally stopped laughing, they were both in stitches, just grinning at each other as they gasped for air.

"Okay, what was so funny?" Kon asked finally, once he could breathe properly.

Bart took a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling.

"I thought you were in love with Tim."

Kon blinked at him. "Oh."

Bart didn't respond, but did look over. Kon was silent for a bit.

"Which is. . . Honestly totally fair, because-"

Bart was rambling, but Kon was starting to realize that maybe, maybe, Bart had been in love with him.

"Bart-"

"And like, he's really pretty and I totally understand-"

"Bart."

"Because like, I'm kinda in love with him too."

"I like you both."

They had both spoken at the same time. There was about two seconds and then Bart was sitting up quickly, looking down at Kon.

"Could you run that by me one more time?" He asked, eyes wide.

"Uh. I like you both?"

Bart blinked at him, then grinned, flapping his hands slightly in excitement. Well, slightly for Bart. They were going slightly blurry.

"Oh my god I thought I was insane."

"What?"

Bart dove at him, and Kon grunted as Bart landed on his chest, chin on his breastbone.

"I thought I was crazy for being in love with both of my best friends. Well. Actually it's not that crazy for me. The future is like, super chill about relationships and stuff. But like, nowadays people think things like that are weird and-"

"Bart, what are you talking about?"

Bart scowled, looking away as he thought.

"Urggh, what's the current word for it?"

He scrunched up his nose, and Kon felt this pang of just pure emotions.

"Oh! Polyamory!"

Kon blinked once, then twice, then a third time. And it was clear Bart realized he may have made a mistake.

"Kon-"

"Wait. Like. Dating both of you?"

"Yeah, it's a thing in the future, I know a lot of people aren't comfortable with it and-"

Bart slid off of Kon, standing and starting to pace slightly.

"I just, I really like both of you and I want both of you and-"

Bart kept talking, but Kon was just staring at the wall now, thinking about this. Why had he never thought about this. Dating both Tim and Bart? It might be a little strange at first. And as Bart said, a lot of people probably aren't comfortable with it.

Bart had apparently out-worried himself and collapsed on the bed next to Kon, their legs touching as Bart looked up at him.

"Kon?"

"Yeah?" He asked, looking down.

"Can I kiss you again?"

Bart's golden eyes were wide and pleading. Puppy dog eyes. Who had taught that boy puppy dog eyes. Kon just ducked his head and pressed his lips to Bart's lightly. Bart sighed softly, pressing up into him.

"Boys?! Didn't Bart have to be back by eight thirty!?"

......

Tim was probably going to cry.

Okay not actually but he was kinda sad now so that's fine.

Reason for his sadness? Bart and Kon had gotten together two days ago.

Yup, you read that right. His two best friends who he's being incredibly gay for pretty much since he met them are now dating.

It's fine.

He's fine.

He's not.

When he had found out it felt like a knife through his chest. His breath had been stolen and he had wanted to cry, but he had to smile and fake that he was happy for them. They grinned back and would cling on each other and kiss each other and it was painful.

It was so painful.

And he didn't see the frowns and side glances and every little hint that they were doing this for his attention, to see how he'd react.

He was just heartbroken.

It would have sucked if had just been one. It had sucked when Kon and Cassie dated, but not quite like this did. Because he hadn't been in love with Cassie and he hadn't been in love Kon back then. But no  he was in love with both Kon and Bart and now they were together .

He kinda felt like crying.

He had gotten out of there as fast as possible, and sat on a gargoyle, staring off the roof and pretending he was patrolling.

He may have ended up avoiding Bart and Kon for the next few days, just because he can't. He couldn't be around them, and be with them and yet not with them.

It hurt so much because he thought that he and Kon had actually had something. He wasn't that dumb, he could tell when they were flirting. He knew that. He knew it happened a lot. And yet Kon had gotten with Bart.

He was jealous.

He was so jealous.

He hated how jealous he was.

He hated this so much.

"Why is he so difficult?"

"He's a brains over emotions, person, Bart. Patience."

"I'm not patient."

"I know," Kon said with a laugh, pulling Bart down into his lap.

Bart huffed, putting an arm around Kon's neck and pressing his forehead against Kon's head.

"What's wrong?"

They both looked up at Max as he walked in, raising an eyebrow at them.

"Tim."

Max raised an eyebrow, looking from his ward to Kon.

"Still trying to get him to date you two?"

"Yeah. He's avoiding us now."

"I think we should just go and talk to him," Bart grumbled.

"And I think we should give him space. He's clearly upset by us dating."

Max just nodded for a moment, sipping from the glass in his hand.

"Conner, I think I have to agree with Bart here. He's not going to realize what you want from him if you don't talk to him. Those Bats boys are like that."

The Max turned and walked out. Bart grinned at Kon smugly, and he just sighed

"Fine. Talk to him," he agreed. "Do you want to do it, since you did so good with me?"

"Yes! I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Wait, Bart-"

Bart kissed him and then disappeared in a shower of sparks. Kon sighed and shook his head, standing and picking up his backpack, calling a goodbye to Max as he walked out.

Tim nearly screamed when Bart appeared with a shower of sparks and a burst of wind, sending his papers flying.

"Oops!"

In another burst of light, the papers were gently replaced in their rightful spots. Tim sighed and looked up to Bart, who was now standing at his elbow, just in civilian wear.

"Bart?" He asked by way of a greeting, setting down his pencil.

"Hi! Watcha doing?"

"Homework."

"Oh. Boo. Homework is boring."

"Don't you have homework?"

"Technically yes, but Kon was over so I did it all super fast, don't tell Max though, and now I'm here because I want to talk to you!"

Tim raised an eyebrow, turning his desk chair to face Bart.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, I just wanted to ask you about something."

Bart hopped up on his desk, his little legs swinging. He was grinning, but he looked a little nervous, all the same.

"Okay. Shoot."

Bart hesitated.

Bart Allen hesitated.

This should have clued Tim in on what Bart was wanting to ask. It was apparently a very serious topic if Bart Allen hesitated to speak his mind.

"You know how Kon and I got together the other day?"

"I'm aware," Tim bit out, teeth clenched, trying to keep the scowl off his face. He wouldn't snap at Bart.

Bart bit his lip, looking down at the floor. He was hesitating again. And suddenly he looked a lot more nervous. Then he looked up, made eye contact with Tim, and then slid off the desk.

Before Tim could register what Bart was doing, the ginger had leaned down and was kissing him.

Tim shoved him off quickly, and was up, out of his chair and several steps back.

"What the hell?!"

"What?" Bart was staring at him with wide, worried eyes.

"Bart! You can't just do that! Not when you're dating Kon! What the hell?!"

Bart sighed, hanging his head and stepping back.

"I'm doing this wrong. Don't- just wait."

Tim scowled at him, putting his hands on his hips.

"What the hell is going on?"

Bart shoved a hand into his poofy hair, then turned to face Tim.

"We want you. We both want you. We want to be with each other, but we want to be with you, too."

Bart looked so sincere, and he looked scared. He was giving Tim this mixed look of fear, hope, love, and longing.

Tim went silent.

He hated to admit it, but his brain immediately went logical, examining all of the things Bart had just said to him, taking them apart word by word and making sure he fully understood what was happening. He looked at this with a very cynical thought process. And he ignored the part of his mind that was freaking out because of what Bart's proposal had meant.

"Tim?" Bart's voice asked, and now he mostly sounded scared. "If you don't- just let me know and I'll never mention it again."

Tim didn't respond.

They wanted to be with him. Clearly they had discussed this, and apparently quite a lot, if it had reached the point of actually bringing it up to Tim. Bart wanted to be with Tim, Kon wanted to be with Tim. Tim wanted to be with both of them. They could all date. Yes they'd have to hide it from the public, because people wouldn't approve of this type of relationship. But what did it matter. Tim already knew Dick would approve, and he suspected Bruce wouldn't have a problem with it. Maybe the Kent's would. But it's not like Kon cared what Clark said, Martha and Jonathan on the other hand. . .

Bart was still staring at him, wringing his hands, and Tim remembered that he needed to give some kind of reaction. Something. Anything before Bart started getting upset.

"Bart."

The ginger's head snapped up and Tim realized he was too late, Bart was already upset.

He walked over and grabbed Bart's hands, squeezing them, then moving his hands up to his face.

"Bart."

Bart blinked at him, his eyes weren't quite wet yet, but they were certainly close. Tim didn't know what to say. He wasn't good with emotions. So he leaned in and gently kissed Bart again. There was about a half a second of a pause and then Bart was eagerly pressing into him, hands grabbing onto Tim's arms, squeezing as they kissed. Squeezing as they backed up until Tim's shins hit his bed and they were toppling over, lips parted as their kiss deepened.

"Does this mean?" Bart breathed out, their breath mixing as he had just barely pulled away.

"I want it," Tim confirmed, and pulled Bart back in for another kiss.

Kissing Bart was exciting and new. It was like jolts of electricity running through him and yet soft and sweet and practically frustrating with how gentle it was. He wanted more and yet didn't want to lose this soft perfect kiss.

"Kon's gonna be so stoked," Bart mumbled, kissing Tim's jaw lightly.

"Tell him tomorrow," Tim told Bart, keeping his arms hooked over Bart's shoulders, keeping him down.

"Tomorrow."

Kon wasn't that surprised when Bart practically accosted him the moment he walked into the headquarters. He wasn't surprised when Bart leaned up and kissed him. He wasn't surprised when Bart pulled him away, into a side room they rarely used, that seemed a bit like an office.

He was surprised when Tim was sitting in front of a table, reading a book. And he was surprised when Bart zipped over to their fearless leader and bent down, kissing him gentle.

"Oh," Kon said, pieces falling into place. "Talk went well then?"

He shut the door behind him, and watched as Tim closed his book, standing.

"If you still want me," Tim said softly, glancing up and down over Kon.

"Of course, I do."

Kon walked over, grinning. He was happy. This was what he wanted. This was good. This was perfect. He put his hands on Tim's hips, tugging him in.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

Kon bent down and gently kissed him, and Tim was immediately pressing back into him.

"We're really gonna have to talk about sharing, aren't we?" Bart asked, and they both pulled away, laughing.

Yeah. This was going to be good. Kon could feel it. They would have their fights, and their bumps in the road. But it would be good. It would be worth it.

@core-disaster-week-2020

[vikingpoteto]

27, 9, pick any two bats

 To no one’s surprise I pick Jason and Tim + cleaning wounds + “Listen, I know it’s hard, but I’m not going anywhere.”

Red Robin looks around his kitchen and tries to list 5 things he can see. The pictures of his friends held by magnets on the fridge. The pile of dirty mugs in the sink. The unread papers spread on the table. The closed window. The trail of blood leading to the counter where he’s sitting. He makes a mental note to clean that up in the morning. Before that train of thought leads him somewhere else, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 4 things he can touch now. The leather of his cowl that he slowly peels away. The cold surface of the counter. The hard wall behind his back. The needle between his fingers. Another deep breath. 3 things he can hear. The clock ticking against the loud silence. Traffic and distant sirens. His mildly ragged breath. He opens his eyes, hoping he doesn’t have any cracked ribs. Another deep breath. He can smell antiseptic and also something coppery. He licks his lips. The one thing he can taste is the bitter pang from the antibiotics he took. 

Tim Drake glares at the needle. This isn’t the first time he had to stitch himself up. This isn’t the first time he had to take care of his own wounds. 

However, this is the first time he’s the one and only responsible for it. 

In another life, he would do a patch job, emergency stuff only, and then get to Alfred as soon as he could for a double check. In a time that felt like a dream now, he would have the latest health tech available and Cissie hovering over his bed while Cassie fussed about how he irresponsibly hurt himself, Bart made a joke out of everything and Conner, of all people, would be the one getting Tim proper care. Less than a month ago, the most deadly organization of the world was making sure Tim was getting the best care available. While his trembling fingers put the thread in the needle, he thinks of the almost healed scar from a damn splenectomy. He doesn’t know what Ra’s people had done to him, but he’s been recovering unnaturally fast, especially considering his immunity. 

Tim bites his tongue and looks down at his battered outfit. He could go to Leslie’s clinic. But it’d be stupid to go all the way there for a couple of bruises and a wound that would probably take less than five stitches. Tim could go to the cave, but… No. He puts the needle down and starts pulling his shirt out. He can’t completely muffle a pained groan and he hates the way it echoes in his empty kitchen. It’s been less than a week since he left Dick, Alfred and Damian. He’s an emancipated adult by all means. Bruce trained him to be independent. He can do this. 

Except… as soon as he reaches for the antiseptic, he hears a noise coming from the living room. Tim freezes. You’ve got to be kidding me. Of all the nights to have a robber breaking into his apartment, tonight? Did it have to be tonight? 

Painstakingly, he jumps to the floor and reaches for his staff. He has half a mind to get his cowl, but he thinks Tim Drake defending himself with what could’ve been a broomstick is easier to explain than Red Robin just hanging out at his place. If he’s lucky - and, after tonight, he feels like the universe owes him - he’ll knock out the robber before they see him. 

The most ridiculous thing about all this is that he feels like crying. He doesn’t know why. He barely remembers the last time he cried. Probably right before he realized Bruce could be alive. As much as he’s in pain now, this is no reason to cry like a baby. Especially not in front of a robber. 

Tim silently hides by the side of the fridge and listens. The person in his living room is good. He can barely hear their steps. He can tell there is only one of them, however, and, judging by the way the sound become louder, they’re coming towards the kitchen. Partly to focus on his hearing, partly to ignore the way his eyes are glazing over, he closes his eyes, listens and waits. He waits. He waits a little more.

Ignoring the way his muscles ache in protest, he swirls around and aims for the gut, hoping to knock the air out of the robber. Gloved hands grab his staff and the invader takes a step back before recovering his balance.

“Woah,” he says in a familiar voice, “easy there.”

Tim raises his gaze to face him. Red Hood lets go of the staff in order to remove the helmet, revealing Jason Todd’s frown. Tim feels his shoulders slumping.

“What the fuck, Jason?” Tim hisses. He feels his voice will break if he tries to speak up. 

“I should be the one asking that.” Jason puts his helmet aside. He takes one second glancing around until he finds Tim’s medical supplies. “Is this sanitary? Shouldn’t you be doing first aid in your high tech basement?”

He should. It would’ve been more practical than getting the whole first aid kit and bringing it up here. However, using his medical bay for the first time… It would make it all too real. Too definitive. Tim can’t tell Jason that.

“Medical bay isn’t finished. Kitchen or bathroom were my best options,” he lies.

“Hm,” Jason says as though he doesn’t believe him.

Tim could lie to Batman if he needed to, but, for some reason, Jason seems to always know the truth.

Without another word, Jason takes off his gloves and leather jacket. He drops them aside and walks to the sink. Tim doesn’t ask Jason how he knows where Tim lives - he won’t insult Jason’s detective abilities like that - but he does frown at the older boy as he strides through Tim’s kitchen like he owns the place. 

In fact, Tim doesn’t want to ask anything. He wants to scream at Jason to go away. He wants to lie down on the cold floor and not move for days. It’s comical in a twisted way that Tim had been just thinking longinly about the time in which he wasn’t alone, and, now that he has company, he wants nothing but to go back in time and hide inside the cupboard until Jason goes away. 

“What are you doing?” Tim croaks. 

“Washing my hands,” Jason says simply. He turns to Tim and waves at him to come closer.

It’s a testament to how miserable Tim feels that he does it without questioning. Jason arches an eyebrow at him and points at the counter where Tim had been sitting not long ago. Tim doesn’t move, even as Jason wipes his hands dry with paper towels and reaches for the hand sanitizer in Tim’s medical kit. 

“Jason,” Tim insists. “What are you doing?”

Jason sighs. “One of my guys told me this new vigilante, this Red Robin guy, took an ugly beating near the harbor while he took down one of Sionis’ turfs.”

“It wasn’t an ugly beating,” Tim mumbles.

“Wasn’t it?” Jason asks, his voice dripping sarcasm. “Was it easy to fight fifteen guys at the same time, Superman? Did it feel wise to bring a freaking staff to a knife fight?”

“I won!” Tim says. 

“Yeah, and which victorious mighty hero is bloody and purple all over?” Jason barks. “Sit your ass down, Replacement!”

Tim flinches and… freaking hell, his eyes are stinging again, which is the most absurd thing ever. 

Jason sighs one more time, but this time he sounds… Well, annoyed isn’t quite the right word. He does sound somewhat irritated, but there is something else in his tone. Discomfort? Embarrassment?

“That’s not… Ugh, I’m sorry, alright?”

Except that’s actually worse. 

Moments ago, Tim wanted nothing but to be seen. It was pathetic. He wasn’t even that hurt and tonight hadn’t been special. It was just the first time he went out for patrol since he moved into his new apartment. He didn’t stop Poison Ivy, didn’t get into a scuffle with Harvey Dent. He just put away a bunch of low level henchmen even if he miscalculated how many of them would be there. Such a small feat, but there was a part of him that wanted someone to acknowledge that. To see all the bruises and bloody scabs, to pat him on the back and tell him he was great for how hard he was working.

How childish. 

Now that there is someone and he seems to be fully aware of Tim’s misery - enough to apologize for speaking a little too loud - Tim only feels small and stupid. He should’ve hidden it better, he shouldn’t be in this sorry state at all. 

The last time he saw Jason, they made amends. Just returned to Gotham after his mishaps with the League of Shadows, Tim found him to let him know he was aware that Red Hood was active again. Jason had said - albeit not in so many words - he lamented trying to kill Tim one year ago. Tim had told him it was water under the bridge by now and they agreed to work around each other, even if Jason still didn’t meet Dick eye to eye after last year. Then Tim had promised himself he would become strong like that. Jason had been through hell and back so many times and he always bounced back on his own. Why couldn’t Tim?

Maybe that’s why it felt like rubbing salt to the injury when Tim glares at Jason, the boy he was supposed to replace, the man whose shoes were too big for Tim to fill, and Tim’s vision is blurry with tears and his voice is overflowing with frustration when he asks yet again:

“What are you doing here?”

Jason meets his gaze. His brown eyes show clear unease, but he doesn’t look away. His brow is furrowed as though this is painful to admit, but he finally says:

“I heard you were probably hurt like that,” Jason gestures at Tim’s bare torso. “I knew you weren’t going to the cave for aid, so I brought the aid to you.”

“How did you know that?”

“Because if it were me, I wouldn’t go there either,” he states simply.

Tim bites his lip. “You dealt with your wounds alone after you came back.”

“Yes,” Jason says. He gestures at the counter again. This time, Tim sits. “I know it sucks. You ever tried stitching your own back? It’s really fucking hard.”

Tim looks down and doesn’t say anything. Jason brings a damp cotton ball to Tim’s wounds and stats methodically cleaning them. Tim doesn’t flinch, even when it really stings. Even when he feels like shame and guilt are all going to drown him.

“How did you do it?” Tim finally asks.

“The back stitches? A mirror and one of those grabby claw things, whatever they’re called…”

Tim glares at him. 

“So serious,” Jason complains. Then, in a calm voice, “I did it the same way you were doing before I got here. If I didn’t I’d die. Guess I wanted to keep living. You’d be impressed with the things people do when they have no other option.”

“You’re incredible,” Tim admits quietly. “I’m not like you. I’m not strong or… I gotta do this alone. I don’t know how.”

He doesn’t know why he’s saying out loud all the things he struggled to keep hidden for so fucking long. Jason doesn’t seem surprised with the confession though. He keeps calmly checking Tim’s injuries. 

“Not strong, huh? Which one of us took fifteen guys in a fight and won?”

“You know what I mean, Jason.”

“Yeah.” Jason grabs the needle Tim picked earlier and checks it before starting to work. “I know. Except you don’t gotta do anything, Timbers. And I don’t mean the vigilante thing. Fuck, I know none of us can quit this fucking life. We’re in too deep. I meant you’re not supposed to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. That’s what fucked up the old man. That’s how you lose yourself.”

“What’s that?” Tim scoffs. “You sound like a shrink.”

Jason looks up and smirks. “Maybe I have a shrink.”

Tim frowns. “Who?”

“Guess.”

“Jason.”

He chuckles. “Okay, so… I know it seems crazy, but she found me and asked me to join my crew in exchange for taking off this explosive thing that Amanda Waller put in her. And she’s crazy competent, so…”

“No,” Tim interrupts him. “You did not let Harley Quinn join your crew.”

“Actually, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy,” Jason has a shit eating grin even as he finishes his stitch job. “They’re a package deal. Ivy showed up a couple of days after Harley and I couldn’t get her to leave so…”

“You’re working with Harley Quinn and letting her give you therapy sessions,” Tim says. “Am I on a parallel Earth? Have those guys killed me and I’m hallucinating?”

“A lot changes in a year, Timbers, you’ve been gone for a while,” Jason shrugs. “People change too.”

“Not that much!” Tim protests. 

“Is that so? Then how come you gave me, what now, three, four second chances?” Jason glares at him.

That catches Tim off guard. He takes a moment to realize what he’s talking about. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Tim asks, genuinely confused.

“I came back, I tried to kill you. You let it go. I get arrested, you help me to break out. I thank you by losing it after seeing B’s clusterfuck of a testament. You come back like it was nothing and tell me you hope to do business in the future. And you think I’m insane for giving shelter to an abused lady?”

“I’m not saying you’re insane for helping her. I’m saying I wouldn’t trust her advice,” Tim corrects. “Besides I know what you’ve been through. I understand, even if the others don’t. You’re still a hero. Why wouldn’t I help you get back in the game?”

“Because I could hurt you again, you moron,” Jason frustratedly points out.

“You could also be helpful. I decided it was worth taking the chance,” Tim states.

“Yeah, you did,” Jason whispers, using the bandaging as an excuse to avoid Tim’s gaze. “You’re the best of us, Tim. I’m not letting you crash like I did so many times.”

Tim just stares, his lips parted in shock. 

That’s when he feels the dam breaking and tears finally start to stream freely down his cheeks. He sniffles and makes that horrible choked up sound of someone vainly trying not to cry. Jason keeps tending to his injuries even as Tim’s body shakes with barely contained sobs and Tim doesn’t know if he’s ignoring the meltdown out of mercy or because he simply doesn’t know how to deal with it. It’s probably both. 

By the time Jason finishes wrapping up Tim’s many scrapes and rubbing medicine on countless bruises, Tim has managed to contain his sobs and is gingerly trying to wipe his face and pretending he doesn’t feel like he almost drowned.

“Listen, I know it’s hard, Baby Bird,” Jason mutters, a tad awkwardly. “But I’m not going anywhere. It’s not just you against the world.”

“Then what, is it the two of us against it?” Tim tries to quip.

“Maybe,” Jason says. “You did a lot for me. It’s about time I start deserving it.”

“I didn’t do it because I wanted you to pay me back.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m here, dumbass,” Jason takes a step back. “I’m done. Go get changed into a pair of sweatpants or something. I’m gonna introduce you to the wonders of 2am cereal.”

Tim lets out a chuckle. “I’ve eaten cereal at 2am before, Jason.”

“Not mine, you haven’t. Chop, chop, kid, we don’t have all night.”

Tim listens to him. 

He should know better, after all he had experienced new beginnings before. All of them inevitably lead to crashing and burning, some rather spectacularly too.

However… There are a few firsts here. This is the first time someone truly understands. This is the first time Tim doesn’t feel like he’s entering a challenge, that he has to earn his place as Robin, as Young Justice’s leader. He feels like his place had been earned, like there’s a small beacon of hope after a long struggle. 

Tim lets himself accept it.

[connorandersons-blog]

"Please don't leave me alone"- Convin, Connor had a nightmare and Gavin comforts him, other way around is okay

Warning for crime scene (so dead bodies)

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

There were so many bodies. Some he wouldn't even be able to identify. So many of his people slaughtered for fun. Killed because a human wanted to feel powerful. If he could he would have gotten sick. Hank almost did too.

There were at least thirty-one bodies. Eighteen were children. The others were adults and five were originally made for security or military. So whoever did this was strong enough to overcome them. 

Those were the ones he could identify. There were, from the looks of it, at least forty-six other bodies. 

The large barn was covered in blood that only he could see. They had called in backup and when they came they found Connor staring into the barn, LED red. 

At least seventy-seven of his people slaughtered. He jumps practically out of his skin when he feels a hand land on his shoulder. 

He turns and sees Hank. He doesn't think, just pulls Hank into a hug. Hank holds him closely, not saying a word. 

Hank was even grumpier due to coming to this crime scene at three am. Even he didn't like going to a crime scene so early.

He does have to pull away to work. He walks around, taking in all the evidence before going towards the like of unidentifiable bodies. 

He crouched down, and with shaky hands scoops up some of the dried thirium. There are thirty-four different models. He quickly stands, squeezing his eyes closed. 

"Conner, if this is too much…" Hank starts but Connor quickly shakes his head. 

He can do this. He has to do this for them. They deserve to know what happened. "I can do it. I'm fine."

He tried to keep his emotions in check as he looked at the bodies. He didn't find any fingerprints so either this was done by another android or a human with gloves. 

There had been androids that killed but nothing to this magnitude. 

The murders were brutal and it appeared the cause of death for almost all were beating. It was slow, drawn-out, and painful. Deliberate. 

There were different murder weapons, but one stood out. In a few of the child models, it appears they were beaten with just fists, drawing it out even further. 

Who could do this? It made no sense. These children didn't do anything. Nothing except survive. 

"Shit, fuck this is disgusting," Gavin grumbles, only now arriving. 

"Don't say anything. I swear I will shoot you if you make any comments." Hank threatened. 

Gavin's eyes went wide and put his hands up. "Hey, I admitted I was wrong about them being alive. Still shitty they can take our jobs but I'm not denying their life." 

He had been quite surprised when Gavin had apologized for basically abusing him while not a deviant. Connor easily forgave him, after all, he was just a machine then and no one truly knew any different. 

"This shit is terrible. Even if they were just machines." Gavin sighed. What the humans seem to keep forgetting was that they were machines. 

Machines with feelings and emotions but machines nonetheless. He wasn't ashamed to be a machine and it definitely had its pros and cons. 

"Fine. Actually… Reed walk with me for a minute." Hank said, glancing at Connor. Gavin grumbled but followed along, walking out of the bard. 

Hank leads them far enough away that Connor can't pick up on their conversation, so he focuses on the evidence. 

There was so much yet still so little. If he didn't have to keep to protocol with wearing gloves he would have been pulling at his hair in frustration. 

Though… the damages on the child models could help. Child models were made to be hardy so just punching one would be harder and more painful than punching an average adult model. 

He quickly walks over to an YK500 #80-856294710-registered name Caroline-, kneeling down in front of the mutilated body. There were punched exactly forty-seven times. 

The damage done to a human had would be very high. No doubt breaking their hand, especially if punched with incorrect technique. Maybe he could even find the force profile. That would help narrow it down even further.

It was small, but it could help. If this was indeed a human their hand would definitely be hurt. If they got lucky then whoever did it went to the hospital. 

He turned around and saw Hank and Gavin walk back in. Gavin's eyes fixed on him and he nodded to Hank before walking over. 

"Hey, Tincan, they found a body that may be related. Hank's gonna stay here and look this over, so you're stuck with me." Gavin sighs. He was lying. Why was he lying? Did it have to do with whatever Hank talked to him about? 

"Alright, I'm assuming you know the location?" He pulls his gloves off, disposing of them. Gavin nodded and started walking out of the barn, sidestepping any evidence. 

He follows along, pausing when they get to Gavin's car. He had never been in it, never had a reason to. If he ever needed to drive Hank let him borrow his car. 

He got in, taking in the smell. He could smell traces of food, cigarette smoke, leather, and Gavin's cologne. 

Gavin started up the car, fiddling with the radio for a second. 

"So, where are we going?" He asked, relaxing into the seat as Gavin drove. He glanced over before turning back to the road. He wasn't driving but he wanted to still keep track of the world around them.

Gavin opened his mouth to talk then quickly closed it. He did this a few more times and Connor didn't interrupt, letting him think. "You'll see when we get there." He finally snapped. 

Connor shrugged, mostly to himself. He knew for a fact Gavin wouldn't hurt him so he wasn't too worried. Maybe Hank just wanted Gavin to drive him around a bit. 

Now that he was sitting he felt exhausted. Androids still didn't need to sleep but now they could, and they could dream too. He'd had mostly good dreams, though it wasn't odd for many deviants to have nightmares. 

He found that he didn't get exhausted from just physical activity alone. He generally had to go under a lot of emotional strain to feel this level of exhaustion. 

Before he knows it his eyes are slipping shut. He dozes for a bit until Gavin is shaking his shoulder. 

"Get the fuck up, Tincan. I'm not gonna carry you." Gavin grumbles. His eyes snap open and he looks around quickly. 

They're at an apartment in the rougher part of the city. It is possible that there really is a body here. If it was he would have at least gotten a notification, but none came. So the probability of a body went down by 90%. 

"I'm assuming there is nobody here?" He asks, focusing his attention on Gavin. 

Gavin sighs and turns the car off, shaking his head. "No. Ander-Hank asked me to take you home. Well, he just said away, but you fell asleep so I… I brought you to mine."

He, he was at Gavin's place? Gavin took him to his home? "Why not take me to Hank's?" 

"I didn't really… he asked me to stay with you, so whatever. Let's just go in." Gavin grumbled, getting out of the car. Connor quickly followed along. 

Gavin's apartment is near the top, which definitely makes his stomach churn. He'd never been fond of heights, but as long as he didn't look down he'd be fine. 

Gavin's apartment wasn't huge, but it seemed well-loved. The first thing he noticed was two large cat trees and he felt his excitement spike. 

He knew Gavin had two cats, but he never thought to ask to meet them. One ran up to them, meowing loudly.

"That's Fae, she's a lesbian waffle," Gavin said, tossing his keys and wallet onto the table. 

Connor drops down, holding out his hand for the cat to smell. It seemed the cat had no worries as she instantly rubbed against him, meowing again. "She's adorable." 

The cat purrs loudly and then quickly runs over when Gavin opens a can of cat food. Another cat ran over, and Connor didn't bother to try to pet it. 

He stood back up, looking around the apartment. It had large windows which were thankfully covered by curtains. The walls were painted in a soft gray-blue and the floors were warm hardwood. 

It was an open floor plan, so he could easily see the kitchen from the living room. The walls were decorated with generic paintings and photographs. Other than the cat toys he wouldn't know Gavin lived here at all. 

"Feel free to use the TV. I've got some movies on there." Gavin said, moving around the kitchen. 

Connor nodded and sat down on the couch, turning the tv on. He quickly switches it away from the news. His stress was already high as is. 

He isn't really paying attention to the tv, just 'spacing out' as Hank would say. He jumps when something soft lands on him. He quickly realizes it's a blanket and pulls it off of his head. 

"Detective?" He asks, eyes widening when Gavin sits down next to him. 

"It's Gavin, dumbass. You seem… tired. So you can sleep here if you want." Gavin mumbles, eyes glued to the TV. 

Connor looks down and fiddles with the blanket. It's a soft blue color though it has a more grayish tone to it. He looks at the TV, then to Gavin.

He had found that human contact helped his stress levels. There was a 67% that Gavin would push him off, and possibly yell at him. 

He scoots over closer to Gavin, pulling the blanket up to his shoulders. Before he can talk himself out of it he leans his head against Gavin's shoulder. 

Gavin stiffens and Connor can tell his heartbeat speeds up. Anger or… no, he couldn't think about that possibility. 

Gavin slowly relaxes and then does something he didn't was possible. He reaches around and pulls Connor closer. 

Connor sighs happily, letting himself relax. Before he knows it his eyes are slipping closed once again. 

He quickly looked around at all the bodies as snow started to fall. No. This wasn't right. How could this be right? 

"Connor, look what you've done," Amanda says. He quickly turned around, seeing her standing surrounded by bodies. 

No! No Amanda was gone. She had to be gone. He got rid of her for good. Right? "No! No, I didn't do this. A human did this." 

Amanda laughed. Had Amanda ever laughed before? It sounded odd and unnatural. Was this similar to how he laughed? 

"Oh but this is still your fault. If you stopped the revolution none of these androids would be hurt. No one would have died. You failed, Connor. You failed your mission."

No! No this wasn't his fault! The person who did this would have still killed, but then it would have been humans in that barn. 

"No! No!" 

"Connor!" His eyes snap open at the sound of Gavin's voice. He takes in deep breaths to try to cool his systems down. 

The panic slows, but he jerks when he feels a hand brush against his face. 

"Shhh, it's me. You're… you're crying." Gavin mumbles. Connor brings his own hand up to his cheek, feeling the dampness. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He mumbled, leaning away from Gavin. 

He should be better than this. He should be in control of his emotions. Yet here he was in Gavin's house crying. 

"Hey," Gavin sighs, touching his arm. "It's ok. We all get nightmares. It would be fucking weird if you didn't." 

He doesn't mean to, but he leans into the touch. It seemed so real. Amanda seemed so real. Could it be like another garden? Was that actually real? 

He checked his systems and didn't find anything wrong, but that doesn't mean she could be hiding somewhere. 

"I'm going to get you some water." Gavin sighs, moving to stand. Connor starts, reaching out to grab Gavin's wrist. 

"Please… please don't leave me alone." He whimpers. Gavin's eyes go wide but he sits back down. He hadn't meant to appear so weak, so helpless. 

"I'm not going to leave," Gavin says. He opens his hand and glances at Connor's still holding his wrist. He lets him go and takes his hand. He makes sure not to hold on too tightly. 

"Do you want to watch something? I'm sure I have something happy." Gavin says. Connor nods and leans back, letting himself lean against Gavin. 

Gavin uses his free hand to grab the remote, going through his movies. He selects one and grabs the blanket that had fallen, putting it over Connor and him.

They stay together, watching movies until they both fall asleep again. 

[ragingbookdragon]

Fireflies

A/N: The only thing better than Damian fics, are Damian fics where they allow Damian to be the innocent little boy he is. Here is my take on it! Based on Owl City’s ‘Fireflies’! -Thorne <3

You would not believe your eyes If ten million fireflies Lit up the world as I fell asleep

           Damian could be described as many things. Grandson (Ra’s), son (Bruce), little-brother (Dick), demon-spawn (Jason & Tim), and best friend (Jon). It was tiring to him to be everything at once; not that he would tell a soul. Since he was a child, he was trained to not show his weaknesses; that weakness was failure, and failure was not allowed. But there were times when Damian could feel at ease with himself. He could let himself go and not be everything everyone saw. Damian could just be himself.

           Over the years of living in the manor, he’d become used to being ‘alone’ and not waited on hand and foot by servants like he’d been when he lived with his mother. His room was his solitude; Jon had even joked that Damian’s room was his version of Superman’s Fortress of Solitude. Of course, he’d made a smart remark to the assumption, but deep down, he’d been startled at the accuracy of the statement. Damian’s room was simplistic in the basic terms. When he’d first arrived, his room screamed, ‘I’m just here for a few days. I’m not staying forever.’ But over the course of the years and the realization that he wasn’t leaving, his room began to grow and take shape of the boy he was. His collection of weapons littered the walls, as well as a few paintings Bruce had bid on and won for him. His desk sat by the window, and on it laid his usual things: his laptop, his school bag and jacket, and his sketchbook and pencils. To other people, Damian’s room was still that of a temporary tenant; but to Damian, it was home. And it was his.

           He’d discovered one night when he was falling asleep that his dreams would almost come alive before he was entirely unconscious. He’d never mention it to anyone, for fear of being labeled weird, or being subjected to unending tests. But Damian saw the way his dreams lit up his room at night; and it all started with millions of tiny fireflies.

‘Cause they fill the open air And leave teardrops everywhere You’d think me rude, but I would just stand and stare

           I’ve got to be dreaming. He told himself. There’s no way this many bugs are in my room. He stared in idle wonder, watching the tiny, living lights float across his room. Where they went, they left small silver drops that sparkled like diamonds. He crawled out from under his covers and looked around, seeing them in all directions. Damian reached out a hand, feeling some of them land on it. They sat upon his palm, small and blinking before taking off and moving around again. He spun in bewildered circles, his eyes taking in every light he could see. I must be dreaming…this isn’t possible.

I’d like to make myself believe That planet Earth turns slowly It’s hard to say I’d rather stay awake when I’m asleep ‘Cause everything is never as it seems

           If you asked Damian how much he knew, he would tell you what he tells everyone: “I’m smarter than you’ll ever hope to be, and that is all you need to know.” Of course, this usually made his family laugh, except for his father, who would just run his hands down his face in exasperation. Tired or not, what Damian said was true. He knew more knowledge than anyone could ever hope to gain in their life. Sometimes, Damian wished he could change the things he knew; sometimes, he wished he could unlearn the things he knew. Damian wished he was still a young boy, crawling out of the bed from beside his mother and walking to the window to stare up at the billions of stars in the night sky. He wished he could make himself believe that the Earth turned slowly, giving everyone time to be where they wanted to be, instead of it spinning the thousands of miles an hour that it did.

           He placed his suit back in the glass case and pulled down the shirt he’d been putting on. A hand rested on his shoulder and he looked up, seeing his father stand beside him; Bruce wore a calm expression as he said, “Don’t beat yourself up over what happened tonight Damian. No one could’ve predicted Penguin joining the fight.” Damian scoffed and ripped his shoulder from his grasp, slamming the glass case shut.

           “I am not in favor of beating myself up. That is Todd and Drake’s favorite pastime.” Sharp noises of offence came from Jason and Tim, but he paid them no mind as he began walking towards the stairs. “It was not my incompetence that ruined the plan tonight.” He ascended the stairs into the manor, leaving the group behind. Dick walked beside Bruce and crossed his arms.

           “Do you think Damian’s been rather occupied of late?” Bruce nodded and murmured,

           “He’s been confined to his room more than usual. I’m beginning to worry that something is wrong.”

           “I’ll try and talk to him later.” Bruce nodded, watching Dick and the others climb the stairs.

           Damian closed the door to his room, locking it behind him and racing to his bed. He climbed in, pulling the covers up to neck; he closed his eyes and began slowing his breathing in hopes of drifting off to sleep faster. He was almost asleep when the sound of a fist knocking on his door reached his ears, and his eyes snapped open, turning in the direction of the sound. “Little D? Kiddo? Can I come in?” Damian’s eyes narrowed and he climbed out of his bed, stalking towards the door and unlocking it before opening it a crack.

           “What do you want Richard?” Dick’s lips curled upwards and he leaned against the doorframe.

           “I want to talk. Can I come in?”

           “No.” Dick’s eyebrows shot up at the flat-out refusal and he questioned,

           “No? Why not?”

           “Because I am tired. Go away.” He started closing the door when Dick stuck the toe of his boot into it, halting it.

           “Damian is something bothering you? Do you want to talk to someone?” A snarky reply crossed his tongue, but he bit it back, closing his eyes and sighing.

           “Richard, I am fine. There is nothing wrong, I just want to go to sleep.” Dick opened his mouth to reply but he cut him off. “Please.” Dick’s eyes widened, but he soon nodded and pulled his foot back.

           “Alright Damian. But if you need to talk to someone-” Damian cut him off waving a hand and muttering,

           “I know, I can talk to you. I have been told that before.” Damian closed the door, locking it again before running back to his bed and hopping in, closing his eyes once more.

‘Cause I get a thousand hugs From ten thousand lightning bugs As they try to teach me how to dance

           His eyes snapped open, and the vision of lighting bugs came back. Damian shoved the covers to his ankle and crawled out of the bed, standing in the middle of the room. His lips drew into a smile and he laughed at the sight of them. They flew around him, and he followed, stepping gracefully across his floor. They felt warm as they drew across his open arms, feeling almost like the hugs that his father and Richard gave him. Another laugh drew from his mouth as he realized they were trying to teach him how to dance.

A fox-trot above my head A sock-hop beneath my bed The disco ball is just hanging by a thread

           The more they danced, the more Damian began to see the patterns in which they flew. Above his head he could see them dancing a fox-trot. Crazy. He told himself. But amazing all the same. The lights flew low and he dropped to his knees, lifting the covers and looking under to see them performing a sock-hop. Damian did something he’d never imagined he’d do when he saw it; he giggled. It tore through his lips and he clamped a hand over his mouth. What did I just do? He looked around, as if expecting to see someone who’d caught it. Upon seeing no one, he pulled his hand down and let the smile cross his face. His gaze wandered up as the fireflies flew high and he caught sight of a disco ball hanging by its last thread. The shine from the lightning bugs, scattered light across the room in the reflection and Damian felt alive in it as he began to dance along.

I’d like to make myself believe That planet Earth turns slowly It’s hard to say that I’d rather stay awake when I’m sleep ‘Cause everything is never as it seems (When I fall asleep)

           Every night was the same to Damian. Crawl into bed, fall asleep, or fall into what felt like sleep, and dance with fireflies all night. He’d pondered telling his father what he was seeing but opted not to in the face of any repercussions that could happen. Tests galore and nights of no fireflies were what lied ahead if he did; so, he kept his mouth shut and continued to dream of them.

Leave my door open just a crack (Please take me away from here) ‘Cause I feel like such an insomniac (Please take me away from here) Why do I tire of counting sheep (Please take me away from here) When I’m far too tired to fall asleep

           The manor was empty that night; Dick was in Central with Wally, Jason with Roy and Kori somewhere in California, Tim with Conner and Bart, and his father with Selina. Damian had the whole manor to himself; save for Alfred, who’d already gone to bed. He crawled out from under his sheets and tiptoed to his door, cracking it open ever-so-slightly so that the light from the hallway filtered in. it created a sliver of light allowing him to see across his floor as he tiptoed back to his bed, climbing back into it. Damian’s head hit his pillow and he sighed, feeling so tired…but not tired enough. Endless sheep danced in the field he’d imagined, but the counting sent him nowhere, and he sat back up, the feeling of what seemed like insomnia creeping upon him. I just want to sleep. I just want to…see the fireflies. He shook his head, laying back down and closing his eyes, hoping for a quick drift into sleep.

To ten million fireflies I’m weird ‘cause I hate goodbyes I got misty eyes as they said farewell (They said farewell)

           Damian always knew when it was time to wake up; the fireflies began whispering quiet notes of farewell to him as they drifted to the open balcony door. He watched them, silently wishing they would stay. They gave him such a sense of peace and belonging; one he usually didn’t feel, even being with his family. But he could see the very beginning of sunrise climbing up the sky, and the lighting bugs hovered towards the brighter light. He stood, feeling them brush beside him. He blinked, feeling something warm in his eye and he brought up a hand, feeling it and pulling it back. A single drop rested along his fingertip, but it shone like a star, making him smile softly.

But I’ll know where several are If my dreams get real bizarre ‘Cause I kept a few, and I keep them in a jar (jar, jar, jar)

           When Alfred first heard Damian’s request for a glass mason jar, so many thoughts ran through his mind; but the only one he voiced was, ‘Whatever for?’. Apparently, Damian wanted to catch something, and that was all he was willing to divulge. He stared at the young boy for a few moments before walking to the pantry and pulling out a glass jar, taking it to the sink and rinsing it before drying it and handing it to him. Damian accepted it quickly and turned around, taking off to his room throwing out a quick, ‘Thank you Pennyworth!’ Alfred smiled at him before continuing his work.

           Damian’s eyes snapped open again and he saw the fireflies once more. Joy filled his body as another night of amazement and dancing fluttered by him. But soon, it was time for them to go, and Damian looked around for the jar he’d brought with him. He picked it up, unscrewing the lid and gliding it through the air, watching as several of them were contained. He put the lid back on, smiling at the holes he’d punched into it, and set it on his dresser. They hovered around the small jar, bumping its sides and latching on, blinking a steady greeting in what Damian had learned was their way of Morse code. His smile widened and he stared at it, knowing that no matter how crazy his dreams would get, those fireflies would still be there for him.

I’d like to make myself believe That planet Earth turns slowly It’s hard to say that I’d rather stay awake when I’m asleep ‘Cause everything is never as it seems (When I fall asleep)

           They watched Damian play with Titus in the yard, running back and forth with the stick they’d found. Small smiles graced their lips and Alfred murmured, “Master Damian seems to be in a better mood than he was last week. Don’t you think Master Bruce?” His eyes drifted to Bruce who simply smiled and nodded. “Did you ever discover what made him so frantic?” Bruce shook his head and said,

           “Something about dreams and fireflies.” Alfred’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, and he whispered,

           “Fireflies, sir?” Bruce eyed him.

           “What did he say?” Alfred shook his head, turning back to Damian.

           “Nothing. Just he asked for a mason jar the other day. When I asked what for, he simply said he was going to catch something.” Bruce turned back to Damian, but said nothing, simply happy in his son’s presence.

I’d like to make myself believe That planet Earth turns slowly It’s hard to say that I’d rather stay awake when I’m asleep ‘Cause everything is never as it seems (When I fall asleep)

           The four of them reclined in the grass, staring up at the blanket of stars above them. The night had been full of hotdogs and junk-food, before smores and an open fire, and now they were finally resting. A joke between the older three made them laugh save for Damian who was gazing at the bright lights. Dick looked down and nudged him. “You alright kiddo? You look pretty deep in thought over there.” Jason and Tim expected a smart remark, but Damian simply asked,

           “Did any of you ever dream of fireflies when you were younger?” The simple question stunned them into silence, and they looked at each other as they sat up; Damian followed in tow, looking at them. Dick was quiet and then he said,

           “I didn’t dream about them…but I remember nights when I would go out with my parents and catch them.” A smile crossed Dick’s lips as he whispered, “My mother used to say that when they landed in your hand and blinked, they were giving you kisses.” The others snorted at his story, but he paid them no mind, instead turning to Damian. “Did you dream about them?”

           “No. I was just asking.” Dick nodded and turned out to the backyard, suddenly pointing.

           “Look! The fireflies are out!” They all stood up, watching them gather in the yard, small and blinking. Jason happened to turn and glance at Damian, then he nudged the others as he whispered,

           “Is it just me? Or does two-bit look over the moon?” They all glanced over at Damian who had stepped a few feet forward and had his hands outstretched. Lightning bugs landed on his hands, and he was smiling. Dick grinned and held a finger to his lips murmuring,

           “Let Damian be the innocent little kid he deserves to be…alright?” They nodded, still watching the small smiling boy holding fireflies without a care in the world.

I’d like to make myself believe That planet Earth turns slowly It’s hard to say that I’d rather stay awake when I’m asleep

           Something tickled his nose, and he opened his eyes looking up blearily. A million lights scattered across his vision, and suddenly everything was clear as he sat up straight in bed. The firefly that had landed on his nose took off and joined the rest, dancing across the air in free motions. Damian pulled the covers away from his body and stood up on his mattress, holding out his hands. “I thought you all had gone away,” He whispered. “You should have told me you were coming back.” They didn’t respond, they never did. But Damian knew they meant him well and he smiled at them. “Another night of dancing with lights I assume?” Again, there was no answer, but he didn’t mind. He sat on his bed, crossing his legs, and watched them in wonder, thinking to himself, that this was his dream, and it was by far the best he’d ever had.

Because my dreams are bursting at the seams

[crazed-rambling]

Dating for Hedge Witches

Blossom would like to make it very clear that she was a hedge witch. Despite what her family says; it is in fact a perfect respectable career. A career which she very much enjoys.

 Country life suited her, the peace of waking up to birdsong outside her window was a far more pleasant wake up call than she’d ever had before. Spending the days seeing to the villagers’ aches and ailments wasn’t easy nor glamorous work but it was kind and she could return to her cottage each day with the memory of the people she’d helped to lull her to sleep. During the winter nights she could burrow in quilted blankets with homemade teas which her family would never have deigned to touch. And on summer evenings she could laze by the riverside, bare feet dipping into the water as she watched the village children play, careful to keep a watch on any wandering spirits who thought her people were easy prey.

 There was something to be said for collecting ingredients as well, even if the forest sprites tended to rather picky on their timings. The first drop of dew of the vernal equinox required for any professional beauty potion was notoriously tricky to locate. But watching the sun rise through the trees and refract scattering rainbows in the crisp morning air was always a sight to behold. There was a feeling of calm that came in that moment. As though the world itself had paused in anticipation, waiting for winter to give way to spring. Of course you could attempt to make the potion without it but the effects were rather diluted, how could you expect a transformation to hold without a sign of change. Her brothers would say that a deal with any reasonably strong life spirit could make up for the deficit. It of course was possible provided you studied for long enough. Life spirits never deign to speak any mortal tongue and must be paid their fully calculated price with all due reverence, unless you want the payment taken out of your hide. Which would be all well and good, magic will inevitably have its risks, but Blossom’s few interactions with such spirits had taught her one thing. Life spirits are dicks.

Specifically dicks mind you because for formless unknowable beings they reminded her all too much of her early magic instructor. An ageing wizard who must have been some sort of big shot at some point, she had vague memories of her father exalting his strides in necromancy. To Blossom he had been and old man with too small eyes, strained and bloodshot as he looked down upon her latest efforts and advised her that women generally lack the forceful presence required to command the life spirits. Wizards are in general, also dicks.

Of course Blossom had attended enough births to know that a forceful presence is the last thing women lack. Just last week she’d watched as Mary Conner, the most lamb hearted woman she’d ever known, broke her husband’s hand; swearing up and down that she’d remove a favoured body part of his if he thought she’d be having another child. Blossom had honestly spent longer on the spell to fix poor the poor man’s hand than she did assisting Mary. Women, mothers especially, she’d come to learn are a force of nature. A fact that any numbers of wizard’s tomes had yet to teach her brothers.

So yes Blossom was quite happy with her cottage and her gardens and her villagers who would buy her potions for copper coins and chickens eggs.

Which is why she wasn’t pleased about a dark-haired woman barging in yelling a name she’d rather forget. Unexpected interruptions were to be expected in her line of work, injuries and illness did not wait for any schedule, even witches’. But this woman was far better dressed than any of her usual visitors. A fine cloak draped around her shoulders, enchanted by the looks of it, fire protection and possibly weapons protection although a closer look would be required to confirm. But still a finer cloak than any of her normal clients could afford. Matched only by what Blossom could only call an aristocratic look. There is little to distinguish an aristocratic face from any other person except a manner of pursing the lips, however involuntarily, in the presence of humble living. Blossom of course couldn’t judge; her face had once held that same look. Although she could judge the look of contempt that followed as she surveyed the cottage, because that was just rude.

It is at this point that Blossom must point out that this woman and many others from this point forward insist on referring to her by the wrong name. So she has decided to make minor edits to this account and switch any usages of this name to Blossom: her goddamn name.

“I am Lady Cottingford bearing a message for Mage Blossom from his royal highness Prince Richard.”

The woman left a clearly scripted pause, to allow for the expected exclamations of awe. But Blossom had met the prince many times throughout her aborted foray into wizardry, and on almost every occasion he had proved himself to be entirely deserving of the abbreviation of his name. So of course there was little awe to be found. Ever a professional the messenger soldiered on declaring,

“His royal highness has chosen you to assist him in a matter of great importance to our country, and as such has summoned you to the royal palace immediately.”

“He has the entire school of wizards at his disposal, what does he want with me?”

The woman purses her lips again, she really was quite good at that, disdaining the mere thought of answering a peasant. Blossom saved her the trouble,

“They couldn’t solve it.” Blossom had never claimed to be anything but blunt, and the look on the woman’s face made it clear she’d got to the heart of the matter.

Now Blossom could annoy the messenger all she liked but by law she was technically still the Queen’s subject so there was no way out of a direct royal command. With this in mind she collected her prestocked bag of supplies and gestured for her ever charming guide to lead the way.

The castle was as she remembered it. Pretentious. Although it was an interesting change of pace to be invited in through the servant’s entrance, off a secondary courtyard rich with the smells of laundry and cooking food. Whatever matter must be discussed was clearly meant to remain a secret, not that her presence would remain so for very long if the covert glances of the scullery maids was anything to go by. Being lead through the claustrophobic maze of servants passages only served to bring her back to days as an acolyte in the school of wizards, hours spent between rows upon rows of ancient tones alongside her brothers, and so she was grateful to be led into what must have been the most ostentatious room known to man, woman or beast.

Prince Dick sat in pride of place seemingly dwarfed by the throne he was one day expected to fill. It was a strange sight to behold as the prince could only claim superiority over his mother in one aspect: height. And yet he seemed incapable of filling any space she left. While this reunion would have been unpleasant enough it was made all the more so by the presence of Isaac taking the place of the prince’s right hand.

 Isaac was as much like she remembered him as he was not. He still looked far too like a cherub with his golden curls and heart shaped face, but he held himself with more pride than he’d ever managed as her brother and fellow acolyte. Of course she’d seen the look of disappointment before; as she’d left. But it remained jarring to see it on the face of what was once her closest friend.

 Eager to get the ordeal over with Blossom dipped into possibly the most lacklustre curtsy this hall had ever seen, her greeting of “Your highness, brother,” devoid of any real respect. Not that they seemed to notice, as far as they were concerned what she said didn’t really matter.

“Blossom,” Three years had clearly done little to change the prince, she wasn’t even that surprised. At least her brother had remained silent “I’m sure you’re wondering why I summoned you,” he had the same smile he’d had ever since he was a boy, the type of smile that left you feeling as though you were just a toy he’d soon grow bored of. The same flare for drama as well, if the clearly calculated pause was anything to go by. “I’m sure you’ve heard that I recently got married,” Blossom had actively not heard this and said a little prayer for whichever poor thing it was, “well since then we appear to have had a little bit of a problem. To be blunt, my wife has been cursed. On our wedding night she transformed and she hasn’t changed back since. See if you can fix her for me.” With this he listlessly waved his hand, gesturing for her to follow the guards stationed by the door.

Neither of the guards seemed inclined to acknowledge her which was fine with her. Walking the endless, lavish corridors which made up the royal castle gave Blossom time to think over the situation. If they were desperate enough to call her in, they must have exhausted every method known to the school of wizards, so Blossom was honestly shocked they hadn’t seen any improvements.

 The guards came to a stop in front as rather ordinary looking door, for royalty that is, it didn’t look like the place you’d find a royal princess. Although the reason for that became clear as she entered, her two guards filing in behind her. The room its self was better than most people would ever see in their lifetimes with crisp cotton sheets on a delicately carved bed frame, a soft floral pattern covering the walls, and a large glass window overlooking the place gardens. But there in the centre of the bed sat a very bored looking goat.

 The villagers owned enough goats for Blossom to be aware that this goat was unimpressed as it glanced at her, but this could also be because it was apparently a princess so most people must be rather unimpressive. Still Blossom found it was better to introduce herself before someone else does it for her and uses the wrong name, so here she was talking to a goat.

“Hello your highness, my name is Blossom and I am a hedge witch your husband has asked to break your curse.” The goat, seemingly satisfied with this greeting, left the bed and walked to stand a few feet in front of Blossom. The goat was of course still a princess, and princesses have manners.

 Even close up this looked just like any regular goat, of course Blossom could sense a trace of magic clinging to the edges, maintaining the transformation, but it seemed to have no malicious intent. Strange for a curse. Rummaging in her bag she drew out a glass bottle of clear liquid, pouring some on her fingertips she smeared it over her eyelids. Marigold water on the eyes for clear sight. Too basic for any wizard to use but useful all the same. A rough translation spell cast and she was ready.

 “This isn’t a curse is it?”

“My mother taught me that a Lady must marry for her family. She never mentioned anything about letting him touch me”

This exchange served as a great source of confusion for the guards who had watched a young woman enact a conversation with a goat, baas and all, then burst into laughter as though the animal had said something incredibly witty, rather than just being a goat.

“Why a goat?” Blossom was honestly curious about this; animal transformations were notoriously tricky and most witches didn’t attempt one without a specific animal in mind.

“It seemed rather unladylike, and a goat removes any possibility of him trying to ride me in a different sense to his original plans.” It was difficult to determine tone using a translation spell, and Blossom had certainly never studied the ins and outs of Goat before. But she was at least 90% sure that the future queen of the nation was telling sex jokes, as a goat. It was a lot to process. She also may be a little in love.

 “So I’m assuming you aren’t in need of any magical assistance as your….esteemed? husband claims.” Blossom had always assumed that goats lacked the correct facial muscles to properly express the emotion of sass, but here she was, sassed by a goat. Add that to the long list of reasons for her father to be disappointed.

“If I was in need of magical assistance I wouldn’t have headbutted the last three wizards they sent.”

“Well I’m grateful that you haven’t done that to me yet,”

“To be fair you’re a lot prettier than the last three,” While Blossom would claim that the heat from the fire had finally caught up with her, this excuse couldn’t quite explain the way her heart was trying its best to float its way out of her chest. “Smarter too. None of the others figured it out.”

“Wizards are dicks”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m placing my future in the hands of witch then, isn’t it Blossom?” Maybe it was hearing her name for the first time since she arrived at the palace, maybe it was the phrasing the princess had used, maybe it was the fact that Blossom’s sum total of dating experience was zero. But the idea of proposing marriage floated into her mind, then set down its anchors with no intention of leaving anytime soon. She was weak and it occurred to her that she’d do just about anything for her.

“Please help me escape.” That, that she could handle.

 Now if you were to ask the princess, which she’d discovered people rarely do in these stories. She would have told you that the smile that graced Blossom’s face as she agreed, must have been sculpted by the spirits themselves. Blossom would adamantly deny that there was anything special about that particular smile, but the beginnings of love have a way of tricking the minds of all parties.

 A quick discussion, of course all in Goat, and the plan was ready. The princess would have normally deemed the plan too simple to work. But alas, she had spoken to her husband, who was really rather simple too. With both women agreed there really only was one final problem to take care off. And Blossom’s childhood had taught her a few things, the most useful of which for this scenario being: how to get what you wanted from guards.

 She approached the guards slowly, careful to shrink into herself, wearing fear and reverence like a cape as she made her request. “Excuse me sirs, but would you mind stepping outside? You see, well, if I am to try and transform her highness back, she will. Well she won’t be -“ Blossom was careful to keep one eye on the guards throughout this little play, waiting for the moment before intrigue turned to irritation to reveal “She won’t be wearing any clothes. It’s just not proper.” Not that the guards seemed to care for proper, they were very happy to pretend as though she’d never even spoken. Plan B it was.

 Blossom drew herself up to her full height, shedding her act and allowing the aristocratic sneer of her father’s perfect son to grace her features. Most days she did not enjoy towering over most people she met, but she must admit that the intimidation factor really did come in useful. Since the guards seemed to decide that there really wasn’t that much difference between one side of the door and the other, in the grand scheme of things. With the decided click of the door, Blossom spun to face the princess, unable to keep the excited smile off her face. Rescuing a princess, disappointing her family, pissing off Prince Dick. This was going to be fun.

 The spells themselves weren’t all that complicated in the end, Blossom knew of a villager who happened to own a very similar looking goat so the summoning was a breeze. It would have been considerably harder if the forest sprites didn’t find the whole idea absolutely hilarious; but they still hold this as one of their best pranks to this day. And a temporary shrinking draft was easy to make from the ingredients she’d brought with her. So with a goat in the room and an even smaller goat smuggled in her bag, Blossom took a calming breath, schooled her expression into something resembling disappointment, opened the door and requested to see the prince.

 The prince did not appear to have moved since Blossom had last seen him, despite a considerable amount of time having passed. Although it occurred to her that it was entirely possible that this was a pose he pulled in an attempt to look regal and intimidating, that seemed like the sort of thing Dick would do. It would have been helpful if this thought had occurred to her at another time, when she didn’t need to pretend to be contrite. But thoughts, much like royal messengers it seemed, do not really care whether the timing is convenient. It was a good thing she could keep her head down in a show of respect and regret, as this served quite nicely to hide the upwards twist of her mouth from view. All attention on her, princess in her bag, sprites at her back, Blossom spoke.

“I’m sorry your highness but the spell on this princess was too strong for me. I tried my best but I was unable to break it.”

 Neither the prince nor Isaac looked in any way surprised, they’d called her here to watch her fail. To remind her of her ‘place’, to rub in her face everything she’d given up. And rage rushed through her veins for the first time in years, dampened only by the knowledge that she was lying to their faces and they didn’t have a clue. That they could look down on her all they liked; they still couldn’t see the truth. “I think that is a curse from the fae, probably laid on the royal family. But it is powerful. The royal wizards are the only ones who could attempt to break it.” And the royal wizards did attempt to break the curse for many more years, once Blossom had been dismissed from court in ‘disgrace’ again. But even the most experienced of scholars had little luck, for their ‘princess’ was in fact a goat.  

 At the sight of her little cottage, with its creeping vines and the worn paint on the door, Blossom couldn’t help but laugh, letting the tension bleed from her bones at the sight of home. Retrieving the princess from her bag, only to be informed that ‘it stank worse than the prince’s breath’ only sent her spiralling back into uncontrollable laughter. Now laughter in general is infectious, but a laugh like Blossom’s; loud, unrestrained and full of joy, to a girl already half way in love is even more so and the princess soon found herself laughing along. She didn’t require any help to transform back in the end, she’d chosen what she would become and who else could take that from her? Blossom had only just regained her breath as it was knocked out from her once more, her own heart pounding in her ears. The princess was shorter than she’d imagined princesses to be, all soft around the edges with a round face and eyes the colour of fertile ground just a little too small for the rest of her features. She was also more perfect than she ever could have dreamed.

 “Nice to finally meet you. I’m Blossom.”

“Claire,” a shy smile graced the princesses face and Blossom knew that now was her only chance to keep that smile in her life.

“I was wondering. If you don’t have any other plans, of course! But if if you need a place to stay, then you could stay with me. If you wanted.” Blossom’s face was red, but she’d said what she needed to and the smile she received in return was all the reward she’d ever need.

“I’d love to! Just until I get back onto my feet. I’ll get out of your hair soon, I promise.”  

 Despite the princess’s promises she quickly grew accustomed to cottage life; the smell of stew cooking, logs cracking on the fire, soft touches from shy hands and that smile day after day. Days turned to months and months to years. The villagers grew accustomed to the second witch as well, smiling as she delivered potions and shaking their heads slightly when she stopped by the pens to where she’d make bleating noises at the goats as though they could understand. And if the villagers spied the two witches kissing as they gathered ingredients, well that was really no one’s business but theirs.

[m00nslippers]

Congrats on 300 followers 💜 for a fic request, could you write some jaydick in the young justice universe? Pre-jason’s death, maybe dick teaching him some moves?

THIS TOOK ME FOREVER BUT I DIDN’T FORGET!!

Alright so Jason in particular is quite a bit younger than Dick at the time of this, Jason 13, Dick 17, so this is more like pre-slash than outright JayDick. So sorry if that isn’t what you wanted but I think it makes more sense that way. I hope you enjoy it!

JayDick, Young Justice fic

- - -

It had been almost a year since Dickcame home from a month-long mission with his Young Justice team onesummer to the surprise and insult of a new kid in the batcave,training in something that resembled Dick’sold uniform.

Yes, Dick had been operating asNightwing for over six months and working nearly exclusively out ofHappy Harbor. Yes, Barbara was spending more time with Young Justiceas well, leaving Bruce as Gotham’s sole vigilante more often thannot. Dick acknowledged that, even agreed that the idea of bringing insomeone new was a good one. Bruce acted as if he were implacablestone more often than not, but the man wasn’t infallible orinvulnerable and Dick would honestly feel more comfortable knowingsomeone was watching Batman’s back in the field when he wasn’t there.

But the fact that it was a new boybrought in right under his nose,living in Dick’s house, wearing his uniform, using hisname, smiling at hisfamily…well, he’d been pissed. He and Bruce had foughtbefore, but not like this. Dick hadn’t even known he had it in him tohate Bruce like that, even if just for a few days.

So yeah, Dick didn’t take it well. Hesaid and assumed some things about Jason and Bruce that were way outof line, and he and Jason were off to a rocky start as the kidreacted to Dick’s initial hostility with mutual enmity. Therelationship never really recovered, even once Dick cooled off.

And he’d thought that was fine. Dickhad plenty of friends, it was alright if he didn’t get along withthis one person. As likeable as he was, and as much as he tended tolike people back, it was just inevitable that Dick would eventuallycome across someone he couldn’t stand. It was nobody’s fault,except for maybe Bruce’s.

Dick had been content to let his andJason’s relationship remain a distant one.

Then one afternoon Dick was laughing onthe beach at the Young Justice compound, the sun shining hot and thewater glittering and cool. M'gann and Conner were splashing eachother in the water as Zatanna, Barbara and Artemis heckled them fromnearby. Wally kept trying to disrupt it all with the wave from hiscannonballs and Kalder surveyed it all with a quiet smile, swimmingeasy laps nearby.

After a while, Wally managed to annoythe three girls enough to have them bodily shoving him onto shore ashe grinned and said something to his girlfriend that had Artemiskicking sand in his face with a shout. Then Dick’s best friend wasstumbling up to the beach umbrella and sitting down next to him inthe shade, dusting sand from his hair with a snicker.

Wally met his raised eyebrow with a wrysmile and said, “Damn, guess I’m banished up here to Gotham.”

Dick laughed. “It’s just as well,Wall’. Your shoulders are already as red as your hair. Put some moresunscreen on.”

Wally laid back on the towel under theumbrella with a smirk. “Naw, no sun in Gotham. I’m safe up here.”

Dick rolled his eyes, finding hisfriends’ continued misconceptions about Gotham amusing, but he couldadmit that the whole afternoon had been light and friendship andcamaraderie and fun—everything Gotham wasn’t.

Everything Gotham wasn’t.

And for somereason, even though Dick had hardly thought of the boy who’d takenhis place in months, his mind flashed to the darkness of Bruce’sstudy, the perpetual marine-layer dulling the sky to gray, and theeery, lonely creaking of the stair steps of the manor. And heremembered there was a kid back there, living in the city his friendsjokingly called ‘the underworld’, living with the man most of themwere still scared of, and fighting a losing battle against crimewithout any of the things that Dick had in front of him.

And suddenly hefelt guilty and selfish.

Wally frowned atthe visible drop in his friend’s mood. “Hey, you okay bro?”

Dick said, “Yeah,sure,” with a tight smile. Then he stood up and walked toward thebase with Wally asking him where he was going as he answered,“Nowhere, I’ve just got to make a call real quick.”

Dick pulled out hisphone, dialed a number, and on the pick-up he said, “Hello, Alfred?It’s me, Dick. I think I’m going to come home for a few days.”

- - -

Dick made his opening move on thechessboard. Across from him, Jason examined the board a moment beforemaking his own. They were in the library of Wayne Manor, which waspretty much the only place Dick ever saw Jason outside of training orgrappling over Gotham rooftops, where he was nearly always wearing amask. It was strange to realize it, but Dick had never really takenthe time to look at the kid, take in his face, his mannerisms, reallycommit the essence of what made him Jason toheart. Dick was starting to realize he’d never committed to anythingabout Jason until now.And it was beginning to occur to Dick how unacceptable that was.

The kid was a middle schooler to Dick’ssenior in high school. Jason’s hair was perpetually messy. He wasskinny but his shoulders were already broad enough, his legs longenough, that he’d probably be huge when fully grown. Jason chewed onthe inside of his mouth when he was thinking and he had a way ofstaring intensely with sea-glass colored eyes at things when he wasconsidering them, and Jason was alwaysthinking, alwaysconsidering. He didn’t seem to trust much of anyone or anythingoutside of Bruce and Alfred. Around Dick, the boy’s muscleswent stiff with nervous energy, but his cheeks blushed endearinglypink when Dick had smiled at him, maybe for the first time.

This was all information that Dickshould have known. It was all things he’d learned since coming backto Gotham.

Dick made his next move in silence andexamined his opponent as Jason did the same. This was his third nightin the Manor and their fifth game in that time, and Dick wasbeginning to see Jason’s style. He was slow at the start, feeling outhis opponent, but brutal in the attack and willing to makesacrifices, making excellent use of traps. He was good. Reallygood for someone who’d just started. Dickwas still better, but that was beside the point.

“So, what were you thinking of doingduring summer break? That’s coming up, isn’t it?” Dick asked aftermaking his move. He scored one of Jason’s pawns, but the kid didn’treact to the steal. All within his calculations for acceptablelosses, apparently.

Jason narrowed his eyes at Dick withsuspicion, mid-reach for his piece. He truly had an intense starethat nearly gave Dick a shiver when it was aimed at him. Jasoncautiously made his move without taking his eyes off Dick andanswered, “Patrols. Maybe go to the library. Catch up on schoolwork. Help Alfred around the house.”

Dick raised a brow. That all soundedso…lonely. As he expected, everything Jason did was either alone orwith one of his guardians, neither of which were especiallydemonstrative or openly affectionate people. God, the situation mightactually be worse than Dick had thought.

He lined up his knight to steal Jason’sbishop. “That’s it?” Dick asked. “That’s all you plan to do?”

Now Jason was outright glaring, hisvoice hard and clipped. “Yeah, it is. What’s wrong with it?”

Dick raised his brows at the hostility.He supposed he should expect it, given their relationship but theglares and sharp words felt like knives stabbing in to him.

“Nothing, just thought you might wantto get out of Gotham. Get out from under Bruce’s thumb, you know?”Dick shrugged. “You’re a kid, you should have some fun. Go to thebeach, make some friends, that kind of thing.”

Jason released an annoyed sigh,lowering his eyelids to a harsh stare. “I don’t want in yourJustice Club, Dick.”

Dick hadn’t thought he was being soobvious in leading up to an invitation to the Young Justice base inHappy Harbor, but he was starting to recognize Jason had an extremeability to read people, which made subtlety kind of pointless. Hecaught on to people’s motivations and actions too quickly for it towork very well, and because of his background, he interpretedanything but extreme bluntness as manipulation. It really just wentto show that Jason and Dick weren’t having enough interaction if hewas walking himself into traps like this after knowing the boy nearlya year.

Deciding that any denial on his partwould just result in further suspicion, Dick decided to put all hiscards on the table. “Oh come on, you’d love it! People your own agewith the same experiences you have, people you can trust with yoursecrets. I know everything Young Justice had to offer did me a lot ofgood back in the day—is still doing me a lot of good.”

“Not interested,” Jason fired back,taking his bishop out of harms way and threatening Dick’s knight withhis rook. The expression on his face had somehow gotten more intenseas if he wanted it to be known that he planned to block outeverything Dick had to say by focusing on their game.

Dick chewed his lip, trying to figureout why the boy could be saying ‘no’. When he was Jason’s age he’dleapt at the chance to work with other teen heroes. He’d known Jasonwas a different person from himself, but Dick had thought that desirewould be a universal one. “Any particular reason?” he asked,trying to feel out the issue. “Maybe I can do something about it.If it’s the distance from home, or maybe you’re shy, or—”

Jason’s brows snapped together andscowled, tone becoming hostile as he growled, “Look, I’m not a kid,okay? And I’m not fucking shy. I don’t need you looking out for me.”

If Dick still qualified as a kid—whichhe was pretty certain he did to most people—then certainly Jasonwho was five years his junior did too. But he didn’t think thatopinion would go down very well and he was already on shaky groundwith the kid, so instead he said, “Everyone needs someone lookingout for them.”

This was apparently the worst possiblething to say, because Jason stood up abruptly from his chair,knocking it over onto the patterned parquet floor with a racket thatmade Dick flinch. Jason did an amazing job at looming over theirchessboard with a baleful glare, looking bizarrely intimidating for athirteen year old.

“I have people looking out forme,” Jason snarled as Dick blinked at him. “I’ve got Bruce andI’ve got Alfred, people you don’t seem to give a damn about anymore.At least they want me, want anything to do with me, unlike youhave for the past year. You think you can just waltz back in hereafter all this time and I’ll fall at the legendary Dick Grayson’sfeat and accept the crumbs from your hand?”

Jasonpushed away from the table, sounding disgusted as he looked down hisnose at Dick. “I’m not anidiot, okay? People who suddenly start acting nice after beingcomplete assholes from the moment you meetthem don’t mean anything good. I don’t need youor your approval, or whatever this…thingis you’re trying to do all of a sudden.So just fuck off back to wherever and leave me alone.”

Andwith that the boy whirled onhis feet and walked out of the room, leaving Dick alone with anunfinished chess match and an upended chair on the ground.

“Fuck,” hecursed to himself.

- - -

Dicktook a few hours to analyze where he went wrong before confrontingJason again. When Bruce invited him to patrol with him and Jason, hedeclined, causing Bruce to raise a surprised eyebrow. Raiding thekitchen for snacks and munching alone in the breakfast nook as hewaited for Jason to get back, he turned the conversation over in hishead and eventually realized where he’d made his mistake.

So when he heardthe sound of the passage moving behind the clock in the study acrossthe house, and then the steps of someone lighter than Bruce going upthe stairs towards the bedrooms, Dick thought he was as ready as he’dever be. He made his way to Jason’s room, found the door closed withlight peeking from the seams and quietly rapped his knuckles againstthe old wood and asked to come in.

No response.

Dick frowned andopened the door only to find Jason’s room empty of any occupants, buthis nightstand light was on and the window was open with the curtainsfluttering lightly.

Alarmflooded through Dick’ssystem with the possibility of Jason having been taken or run away.Hiseyes quickly darted around the room, noting that all of Jason’sthings seemed to still be there,including a guitar, a large collection of books, a red hoodiehanging from his desk chair and his backpack with his homework. Asound came from outside the window and Dick ran over to lean out andsighed in relief as he saw Jason layingdown on the roof of the room below, looking up at the star-filledsky.

Dick considered amoment before climbing out after Jason, laying down next to him onthe slanted roof with the boy glaring silently all the while, clad ina loose shirt and pajamas and no socks similar to Dick’s own shirtand boxers.

“Hey,” Dicksaid, feeling oddly nervous. “How was patrol with B?”

“Fine,” was thesingular, unfriendly response as the boy looked away from him tostare towards the treeline obscuring the city lights of the islands.

“Niceout here, huh? I used to walk around on the roof a lot, too. Alfredhates it, though. He says it’s dangerous, as if grappling across thecity isn’t way more dangerous, you know?” Dick chuckle fell flat asJason stayed silent.

“What do youwant?” Jason finally asked after a few moments of awkward tension.

Dicksighed. “Look, I…I can see why your angry with me, whymy actions seem suspicious. Whenwe first met, I didn’t leave a good impression. I was pissed withBruce for giving away something that was important to me withoutasking. He shouldn’t have done that, but that wasn’t your fault, andI took it out on you. It made me too blind to see that even thoughthe way Bruce went about it was wrong, that he’d made a gooddecision. You’re a good Robin, Jason. AndI’m glad you’re here to watch Bruce’s back forme and carry on the name.I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance, and I’m sorry that it took methis long to apologize. Thatwas something that I needed to say and that you needed to hear beforeI tried to act friendly. It was selfish of me to think I could justskip that step because it seemed easier than saying I was wrong.”

Jason stared atDick, chewing on his lower lip for a while as his eyes got red andglassy and he blinked is gaze away from Dick’s face to stare hard atthe trees before pretending to wipe something from his eyes. Withonly a bit of a sniffle, he finally croaked a quiet, “Okay.”

“Okay?”Dick repeated. “So…we’reokay? You’ll rethink my invitation to Young Justice?”

Jasonsighed. “You don’t need tosuck up to me by letting me tag along withthe ‘big kids’. I said we’recool now.”

Dick couldn’t helphis expression from contorting into something like disappointment.“Sucking up has nothing to do with it. You’re my legacy, right?Don’t you think we should get to know each other? And the rest of theteam has to meet the new Robin too. What if something happens to meand they need your back-up? Robin always has a place in YoungJustice, he’s a founding member.”

Jason’smouth tightened, eyesshifting to Dick and then away again guardedly.“You don’t think…I’dbe in the way?”

Dick smiled,finally feeling like he was on solid ground. “Jay, you are alreadygood enough to run with Batman, you won’t be in the way, you couldn’tbe,” he said with complete sincerity. Bruce knew what he was doingwhen it came to training. Jason already knew more skills than most ofthe powered members on the team, and the war-zone of criminality thatwas Gotham city gave its vigilantes more experience than almost anyother city on Earth.

Dick scooted closerto Jason until their elbows were knocking and nudged the boy until helooked up at him. “This is just between you and me,” Dickconfided, “but a few people are thinking about leaving orgraduating to the Justice League. We have a few names of kidsshortlisted for the team, but no one who can lead. We’re going to beshort-handed really soon. You’d be doing me a favor, to be honest.”

That wasn’t hisinitial reason for inviting Jason, but now that it had occurred tohim, the team really could use him. Artemis and Wally were bothquitting to go to college and he’d been talking with Aqualad about along term undercover project. Everything would fall on Dick prettysoon. He’d talked with Barbara about making the YJ full-time for herbut she wasn’t sure how she would hide that from her dad so it mightnot work out. Having another bat to rely on would be a godsend. Andthen he’d really get to see what Jason could do.

Dick repressed awry smile at the thought. Bruce would be so annoyed that Dick wastrying to steal his new kid for the team.

Jason snorted. “Youhardly even know me. Why do you think I’d be good at leading?”

Dick shrugged.“Partly because I trust Bruce to only work with the best people.That includes you, Jay. And the rest…call it a hunch.”

Theboy raised a dubious brow. “A'hunch’? Batman let’s you get away with 'hunches’ does he? He’salways riding my ass about having 'evidence’ for my conclusions.”Dick could see that. Jasonseemed like the kind of person that intuited things without beingaware of all the steps his mind was taking, but Bruce liked facts.

Dick smirked.“That’s the awesome thing about Young Justice—no Batmanglooming-up the place.” Not all the time, anyway. He was stilltheir League contact but mostly only the leaders had to deal withhim.

Jason hummedacknowledgment at the validity of his point. “You make anattractive argument.”

“Well I’m an'attractive’ guy,” Dick replied, bobbing his eyebrows suggestively.

Jason made a faceand a smile started tugging at his lips as he tried to suppress itand a pink blush colored his cheeks. “Don’t do that,” he said,clearly having trouble not laughing.

“What,this?” Dick gave his most over-the-top flirty look and bobbed hiseyebrows again and Jason couldn’t hold it in anymore and let out asnicker and then a laugh, andnow Dick was grinning too. Thoughit was the dead of night, it felt like the sun had come out.

Hecould have had this months ago, Dick realized. He’d been an idiot tolet this drag out so long, thiswas worth so much more than his anger with Bruce. This was somethinghe’d been missing but hadn’t even known he’d wanted.

“When do you getout of school?” Dick asked, suddenly feeling as if the day couldn’tcome fast enough.

“Endof the month. But I was thinking of doing tutoring over the summer. Iwant to get ahead in class,” Jason confessed, looking embarrassedand Dick realized this might be connected to the story Bruce toldhim, about how Jason had been out of school while on thestreets and he’d had to playcatch up on top of his Robin training before Bruce would let him goin the field.

Dickshrugged. There was nothing wrong with getting ahead but he figuredany fears Jason had about falling behind again were baseless. Brucehad spoken about Jason’s good grades and how well he was doing,which at the time had seemed like bragging and pissed Dick off but inretrospect might have been Bruce trying to get him to pay attentionto Jason.

“I’mnot sure you really need tutoring,”Dick said, “I knowyou’re smart and pickthings up quickly. But if you want to study, I could help you. OrArtemis or Wally could, I doubt they’d mind. Wally seems like a dork,but he’s actually a big science geek.”

Jasonconsidered this, biting his lip before saying, “Okay.I mean, I guess I could. If your sure.”

Dick grinned.“Awesome. The day your school lets out, its a date.”

“A date. Right,”Jason repeated shyly, freckles standing out in the distant light fromhis window.

Dick caught himselfstaring before he shook his head clear and stood up, balancing easilyon the steep slope of the roof as he stretched. “Alright, it mightbe summer but it’s getting pretty cold out here, I’m going to headin. You coming?”

Jason shook hishead and looked back toward the dark treeline. “I will in aminute.”

“Then I guessthis is goodnight, Jay. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“Okay.Goodnight…Dick.”

- - -

Hope you liked it!

[thirium-fiction]

Hi! Can you do the DPD gang reacting to their s/o using pickup lines to try to make them flustered?

A/N: Big thank you for 4k! I love you all so much and thank you for being so patient! There’s a lot going on but I’m doing my best to keep up with my writing on here! Enjoy! :)

Connor –

“If you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber.”

Like most things, he wouldn’t understand what you’re referring to. All you were met with was a blank face with eyebrows knitted together in confusion. It really was difficult for you to make jokes around him especially flirtations. You’ve tried puns before with him and that didn’t work either. There would be a glimpse of an awkward attempt at a smile before fading back into a straight line. You could practically see the amount of research he was going through his vast database just from the blank look in his eyes along with a yellow LED. Connor’s lips parted before pausing for a split second as if thinking everything through.  

“I apologize. I must have misheard you, (Y/N). Would you mind repeating that to me one more time?”

A deep heavy sigh made its way out of your nose. Everyone knew that explaining something clever would ruin it but you couldn’t just leave him bewildered. He really was trying his best to understand.

“A cute-cumber!” You laughed breathlessly, slowly becoming embarrassed and regretting even saying anything in the first place. “Get it?”

Silence.

“I’m calling you cute, Connor.”

Connor immediately relaxed, happy with information finally being released and curing his confusion. “Oh, okay.” He grinned, about to continue with whatever he was doing before until freezing and looking down at his tie, fingering the end of it.

“I’m cute?”

Hank –  

“Did you sit in a pile of sugar? Because you got a pretty sweet ass.”

Nothing could make him flustered, honestly. He’s been on this planet long enough to have seen and heard everything.  

Everything.

But, that didn’t stop him from snorting into his whiskey glass, impressed with your attempt at trying to turn him red. Sadly, the only thing that could make the man turn such a color was the liquid in his hand. Hank noted how you stood behind the couch, bent over with your arms wrapped around his neck while doing your best to win him over with quiet whispers in his ear.

“Hm, creative.” He grunted, raising the rim of the glass up to his lips. “Sweet ass. Never heard that one before.”

You instantly smiled from ear to ear, leaning back slightly with your arms still around him. “Really?” You said, impressed with your ability of wooing others instead of your reflection in the mirror.

Hank stopped mid-sip, turning to give you a look with a raised eyebrow. The atmosphere of ‘Seriously?’ was rather obvious in the air. You rolled your eyes before lightly nudging the detective, just enough to cause the alcohol in his cup to threaten spilling over.

“Hey, watch it!” He hissed half-heartedly, quickly putting his other hand around the rim to stop the whiskey from hitting the floor.  

You nudged him again, harder this time. If you couldn’t make him flustered, you sure could press his buttons. Hank gave you a warning look, his palm tightly pressing down on the top of the glass.  

“You know,” He said, resting the cup onto the coffee table covered in old newspapers. “There are plenty of other ways of getting my attention.” His eyes stared directly into yours, not moving a muscle. “But, touchin’ my damn drink ain’t one of them.”

Gavin –  

“Your lips look lonely. Would they like to meet mine?”

He stood still in his spot, mouth slightly ajar. A swear quietly left the small gap between his lips. Usually being one to hit on others, it was definitely a shock to the system when it was responded positively (and flirtatiously at that) back. If something was in his grasp, it would definitely be on the floor by then. Luckily for him, nothing was in his hands except the sweat from his increasingly clammy palms. When the silence finally caught up to Gavin, he cleared his throat weakly, pretending as if he wasn’t on cloud nine.

“Oh, yea-” His voice was oddly high-pitched before clearing his throat once more. “Oh, yeah. I get asked that all the time.”

He didn’t.

“So, uh,” Gavin leaned on the wall beside him, a smirk on his face with a bottom lip gently taken between his teeth. “You come here often?”

Crossing your arms, you turned your head to stare at all the desks cluttered with paperwork and stressed out policemen leaning over them. Pursing your lips, you shrugged. “I mean, we both work here so I guess you can say that.”  

Gavin froze again, internally cursing and beating himself up. He was able to do this smoothly with anybody else but why couldn’t he keep his cool around you?

“Ah, yeah, right, right.” He trailed off, awkward silence looming over the both of you.

The lack of noise was too much before you kicked off the wall, ready to head back to your desk to continue the work you had been avoiding.  

“Are you okay?” Gavin suddenly asked, making you stop and give him a puzzled expression.

“Yes? I’m perfectly-”

“’Cause I think you’re suffering from lack of vitamin me.”

You couldn’t stop the laughter from sneaking past your lips before you responded with a pickup line of your own again.

It ended up being a competition on who could out-flirt the other before somebody got too flustered.

You won.

RK900 -

“I can turn your floppy disk into a hard drive.”

What guts you had to have to attempt at flirting with this android.  

During a mission.

The gun in Conner’s hands was swiftly lowered as he sneered down at you, the height difference becoming even more prominent. Your expression of amusement didn’t lessen but rather increased at his reaction. You knew you were in for it now but it was worth it.

Holstering his weapon, the robot stood tall as he always did, not a hair out of place as his cold eyes never removed themselves from you. “I apologize. I must have misheard you, Detective (L/N). Would you mind repeating that to me one more time?”

That sounded more like a demand rather than a request. Hell, anything Conner said was a demand in the form of a request. It was easy for people to retreat back to wherever they came from every time they stood too close to the robot. He was drastically different than his RK800 counterpart who Conner refused to acknowledge even existed.

But, here you were, making advances towards him to make him flustered.

Was being flustered even in his coding? He seemed to be programmed with only one expression.  

Annoyance.

Or maybe he did have more expressions but he always gave you this one instead. Whatever it was, he was clearly unimpressed and wanted nothing more than to continue what he was made to do.

A grin blossomed across your face as you shoved your hand into your pocket, fishing around for something. Your sudden movement caught Conner’s interest slightly but he wasn’t going to bring himself to change the subject. A closed fist removed itself from your pocket and held itself out towards the android.

“Could you hold this for me?” You asked innocently, blinking up at him.

Conner shook his head, deciding he wasted enough time on this. “I do not see why I would-”

“Please?” You whined, interrupting him (which he didn’t appreciate, of course).

Reluctantly, Conner slowly raised his palm out to you, waiting for you to release the item to him. But, instead of something being place into his hand, your fingers laced themselves between his, successfully holding onto his hand.

After a beat, he dropped his hand from your touch and turned away, muttering, “Immature.”

You followed after him with a grin, taking note of his hesitancy before letting go.

Captain Allen -  

“I like a man in uniform but I think it’d look better on the floor.”

Allen wasn’t surprised at all. He chuckled right after the words left your mouth. Somehow, you could easily make him forget the stressful days at work he could have. He wouldn’t become flustered per say, but he did feel his heartbeat pick up in the slightest. You did this every time he seemed tired and it always raised his spirits.

“Where do you even get these?” He questioned, setting his bag down and kicking off his shoes.

Shrugging, you threw your hands up in the air. “I have no idea. They just find their way into my head and I make sure to remember them just for you.”

The man stared at you before shaking his head with a smile. “Wow, thanks.”  You were definitely one of the most interesting people he had ever met. With a light sigh, he touched your knee gently, rubbing it before getting up. His sore muscles forcing him to groan in pain. “I’m headin’ to the shower.”  

Stretching out across the couch on your stomach, you rested your head in the palm of your hand. “Oooh, can I join?” You asked in a teasing tone of voice.

Shrugging off his dark coat, he rolled his eyes playfully at your antics. “You really don’t run out of those do you? Conserving water is good for the Earth, ya know?”

Getting up from your spot on the couch, you sauntered over to Allen, wrapping your arms around his waist as he hung up his coat on the rack. “There’s plenty more where that came from.” Standing on your toes, you rested your lips right next to his ear. “Would you like to hear them?” The hot air sent a chill down the S.W.A.T. captain’s back.

A low hum erupted from his throat before he pulled away. “Tempting.” He said, thinking it over. “But, I still have work to do.”

You watched as he walked in the direction of the shower. “I’ll get you one of these days, Captain Allen!” You shouted after him causing you to receive a thumbs-up with his back still to you.

“I’d like to see you try.”

[masterlist]

[bookdragonlibrary]

Fourth Friday YJ appreciation

1-3 ; 4-6 ; 7-9 ; 10-13 ; 14-16 ; 17 ; 18 ; 19 ; 20 ; 21 ; 22 ; 23 ; 24-26

—————————— Exceptional Human Beings

- Is this... Batman works with Oracle. It’s the same tech than Nightwing! 

- Yes! These is Katana and Metamorpho! I already love Metamorpho facial expressions! The scene from the trailer! Santa Prisca, Bane’s island! They’re so efficient! (Yeah, I have in mind the first time of the Team on the Island...) 

- Is it thanks to Jade’s intel? So they will save Tara? :D

- Victor Stone? So this is Dr Silas Stone! I saw the movie, I know Dr Stone wont have time to go... Oh! The Reach tech is back!

- And it’s Steel or John Irons. (Why every person choosing a English name comes with John?)

- Did... did Metamorpho just turn himself into a fart? Seriously? Katana in the background and the indignated face of Metamorpho xD

- Sex implied, definitely mature content... Is it really the time to talk about Dick? You know what I mean... Wait, was that a joke? Like a subtext joke? 

- Training Time! Forager’s sounds are so funny! 

- Violet fell because she was blushing and Brion uses his powers because he was blushing. They’re cute! :3 

- Nightwing definitely knows Batman is on Santa Prisca already and knows Brion will likely get himself killed with his actual combat skills...

- Deathstroke in the place. Oh she’s Cassandra, Savage’s daughter (yeah a lot of Cassandra this season!) 

- She knows Tara! Now she’s is used by Granny Goodness... And Cassandra seems to... like her? She is a different character than Scandal (who is lesbian) right? Because I don’t want our first rep to be a pedophilic rapist, thank you very much... We already had Slade for that in Judas Contract... 

- “I have observed that.” Definitely thinking about her sister Olympia :(

-  Victor’s team! “I would ask Wonder Woman out!” “Me Black Canary” *Vctor rolls his eyes* Are we wasting screentime for straight idiots? (and I mean it in both ways) Just a question: do you think Victor could be gay with his reactions to the “straights comments”?

- “Cisco, a superhero?!” Well, Francisco Ramon will be a superhero one day (but I don’t know his powers yet.) Don’t worry my dear, a lot of people love Zatanna! He’s a Spanish speaker, from where? 

- Victor don’t appreciate the bullying but not interfere :( But he’s so above their shit! 

- Boo-yah is back! I can’t believe they also gave this easter egg! 

- Batman or how burn someone with only words! xD

- “I always hated that name too!” Why don’t you change for you mother name, Arty? :( 

- Violet Harper, I love how the writers connect the dots between the comics and what happens on the show! 

- JADE! I love how she’s smiling, like she considerates it. We know she would love that. Why could hold her back? How could she think they don’t need her? Because of her father? Football... er I mean soccer is just a lame excuse! She’s crying! She definitely loves them! :’(

- Katana VS Lady Shiva! OMG Katana also uses a wakizashi (a short saber) with her katana like a samouraï :o 

- “Bulletproof. That’s annoying” We already know that line but still funny xD So Metamorpho isn’t fireproof? That’s his true form! 

- Oracle time! 

- “No, no my guns!” Seriously Bane? Metamorpho just blows them a kiss xD

- Booyah! Someone is still using the goggles... Poor Vic :( “I see great things in your future” while showing a FatherBox. I don’t like it... I know the story but still don’t like it...

- Brucely! (Or Bruce Lee?) Such a good boy!

By the way, Katana never talks. She took a vow of silence after her sensei dies.

—————————— Another Freak 

- First, I don’t like the title. I dislike even more the wiring from the Reach tech... 

- There’s a bad father/son relationship (I mean with fights) each season, isn’t there? “Scene/seen. Now you’re boying me?” I love the dialogue! I know I could hate the wiring... The “dad” at the end broke my heart :’(

- “But Brion Markov’s attitude will soon change! :D” Forager knows what’s going on between those two. Forager is a Haloforce shipper! Human Forager is so cute!! “Be careful on the boys! They only have one thing on their mind!” “What one thing?” *embarassed Brion* “If we arrive with the councelor and the principal, all the other kids will love us!” My poor summer child... “No flying at school!” xD

- After gory Halo, here’s gory Victor :( And here comes the Fatherbox so bad news?

- “I’m so happy to be here it makes me sick” Violet is still dealing with human emotions. Stay whelmed! Or could it be the Fatherbox? 

- Is that Terra with blue hair?? And... freckles? (she has the same character design that in the animated movie) Oh she’s Harper Row. My bad. The whole conversation was hilarious and cute!

- Victor’s still alive!

- Of course, access denied. Nightwing knows he would do it. He did it as Robin first! And of course Nightwing appears! And now they’re fighting...but with it Brion could speak his heart out.

- “How they could know us if they don’t interact with us?” I know Forager. Most human are most judgmental at first sight... 

- “Are Violet and Fred freaks?” Oh no sweetie don’t think that :( “But Fred must look like a freak...” He refers to his human form. It’s logical. Would you feel like yourself in an alien form? “Freak is cool.” Exactly! “Two hands only” xD

- Victor is freaking out. Naturally. So... he goes... violet when the fatherbox takes control? Like he calls to be heal.  So the violet color has a reverse meaning for a fatherbow than for a motherbox, logical as they are the two faces of the same coin.

- Harper is so sweet! 

- Whoa new aura: indigo (between blue and violet). So we still don’t know what blue aura does (and black aura, but I’m not sure it exists). What does it do? She opened a Boom tube? 

- “I’m not an abomination. I’m a freak.” That’s the spirit. That’s my girl! 

- Pleasedon’tmurderhalo! pleasedon’tmurderhalo! Yes! She’s okay! 

- She’s healing him! Poor Vic, he’s so confused. “My work here is done.” Violet is so cute! 

- Silas trying to find a common thing with Vic is sweet but yeah.. Vic would feel like a rat lab, ask Ed. “Can I go with you?” His voice was so heartbreaking :( Victor prefers to leave to not hurt his father again :( Yeah he’s angry, it’s understanding. At least, he’s alive right? 

- Kind of ironic they boomed tube in a football field...

- Brion is finally moving forward! :D 

- Lobo’s finger begins to morph. Slobo on the way!

—————————— Nightmare Monkeys

- Tork from Mars, seriously? xD M’Comm should be so pissed... 

Was that the Wilhelm scream? 

- “I have practice” My heart :( 

- it’s Paul who played Conner in Hello Megan! What time had done to you? Gar’s look when they talked about Marie :( Paul is his godfather! And Rita his godmother. Steven is his stepfather? That means he was with Rita, right? He’s Mento? “Thanks God.” I think they both don’t like the situation but still try to play their part... 

- I don’t know if this seashell alien is real or just a costume...

- We were right! Halo IS a Motherbox! What happen to the script? Now we can predict things :( She’s... the reincarnation of the dead Motherbox Doctor X and Psimon studied. So Queen Bee works with Vertigo, since Psimon works for Quee Bee. So Gabrielle Daou consciousness died, murdered by Bedlam’s minions and the Motherbox soul regenerates/resurected in her body because she needed a vessel. But Violet still has some of Gabrielle’s memories via the brain, but maybe not her thoughts or emotions?

- I love the Emerald Crown teasing! Was Gar talking about his mother(s) when he said queen? That needle doesn’t seem good...

- “And now he tells you to be patient...” xD 

Sphere, stay whelmed! And... the Fatherbow is awake again... And... Conner is shirtless again... Halo has clearly no idea what she’s doing. So cute she calms Sphere down :)

- So that doesn”t sound good... Encino, what/where that could be? 

- “He’s dead, Tom.” What that the voice of... WALLY??? And all the dead heroes in the grotto... I mean Watchtower garden.

- Great! Supermartian know how to communicate now :) “Alone time” Weren’t you have a “intimate” time in a bathroom two episodes ago? “Date night/Secret base” Yeah Wolf me too. They got the communication, not the understanding...

- “The Reach... I mean the Klamulons” seriously? 

- Tula, Ted Kord, Jason, was that the chronological order? I thought Ted was the last one. That’s why in season Tim went to Jason’s hologramme. Ted Kord died during the Summer break and they were in February. So Tim was a really young Robin! 

- Wally speaks to casually about their death. “Who’s next? Guess it’s me.” Does that mean he’s not dead yet? But could soon be? Wally’s death scene reminds me how good the previous style was... RIP too! “Cancel the show already?” I heard the 4th wall break down.

- DOOM PATROL GO! WHAT’S THE HECK?The 4th wall is collapsing in a firy explosion. 

- Garfield also collapsed. AAAAAAAAAAAAAH! 

Rita Aka Elasticgirl with Starfire’s voice. Chief with Robin’s voice. Robotman with Cyborg’s voice (more like Cyborg’s father xD), Negative Woman with Raven’s voice. 

- Steve Dayton is indeed Rita’s husband; So Rita adopted Garfield when Marie died? She did! 

- “Sorry your mom(s?) died!” The song. “Just say goodbye to your second mom!” Rita and Marie were together? Was Rita bi/pan? “Let’s die!” 

- Of course M’gann save the day, back with her season 1 appearance. The whole Mento’s speech is how Gar sees the situation right? Not the truth right? “I was 14.” Wait, all of this (except Marie’s death) only happen last year? 

- M’gann is there to save her brother!

“Sure you’re even born yet?” This joke could also work with Bart. Man, if Bart was in that episode... 

- “Queen Bee wants her honey back!” That was a lesbian joke right? The first rep of this season would be Queen Bee? Being Bi? (Why in English bi is pronounced like by and not bee? Do you see the missed joke here?) 

- “Let’s watch the episode you were in.” Season 2. The pieces of the 4th wall break again. 

- “Shut it down.” “I can’t hear a heartbeat.” He meant the channel, not the heart, Wally. Wait, was it a death wish because Gar can’t handle with all the mourning happening in a few minutes? 

- Reminder: Beast Boy’s metagene was activated by Martian transfusion and a bite from a green monkey. 

- Mass conservation? Is it a clue for Wally’s return? Like his mass was conserved somewhere when he was desintegrated? A place where he can save Garfield from the Goggles? How can Gar remember Wally’s death if he wasn’t even there?! But he appears as the green monkey to show a parallel? Between the monkey and blood transfusion saving him and Wally saving him now? 

- Come back as a hero my boy! 

- “Are you real or is this all in my head?” Ask Dumbledore, kid.

- M’gann is in the place! White but with a green aura. 

- Yes, I think it was a distraction to cope with all the trauma. 

- “Ready to get back to reality. Ready to get back to the life.” hero life? It was both litteral and metaphorical. 

- Perdita who don’t understand the Team’s slang :) Gar, did you teach anything to her? 

- Garfield finally understand that Gretchen is a bad guy. But it feels off as we already know it. The Evolution episode should have happen after this I think? 

- Emerald Crown is so cute! Their kiss was ok, but why M’gann are you doing the same in front of your brother?

- Haloforce kiss! After we finally understand who Violet is! But I would like to see the moment which brings to the kiss :(

- Sphere!

- Of course Wally won’t come back until part b or even the end of the season, will he?

—————————— True Heroes

- It’s Halloween! Halo and Forager are adorable as usual. 

- Poor Vic :( Halloween cancel and Violet can’t come :( Forager drives bioship xD (Such a weird sentence...) 

- Tara is 15, same age than Bart and Gar.

- Dr Jace had a little girl. who was taken from her. Was she meta? It’s thay why she started to work with Bedlam? To have intel to find her? Or did Bedlam blackmail her to make her work for him? That’s why she’s is so overprotecting with the kids? 

- “You’re be my little girl for tonight.” That sounds creepy, right? 

- “I know I said pretend I’m not here but I’m.” Yeah, Dr Jace, maybe not the best way to explain where the teenager hormones lead to... 

- “Vulnerable” weaks the Fatherbox up. Great. And it’s because she is vulnerable, Dr Jace tries to be closer?

- Cameron (Icycle Jr) and the Terror Twins grew up so much... And not in a good way. I miss the Twins’ design in season 1. They get uglier each season, bad guy cliche. But Tommy could be the Bad Blue Beetle from Bart’s future, they have quite the same morphology and Queen Bee sold Chimmer to the Reach, why not him too? 

- Holocaust?

- Wolf attacking the Fatherrbox. 

Dr Jace just took a violet ray and if they’re like Halo’s yellow one she should be badly injured... Not just inconscious. 

- Emotions turn off Halo’s powers? They just activated them! 

- Earth VS FIre. Terra lost :( 

- Stay Whelmed, Brion! 

- Psimon out! Wait, did just Devastation called him baby? 

- Tara is free!

- And Holocaust is with a Queen Bee’s minions. 

- Family reunion!

- YJ is now a scary movie. Maybe it’s just panic which shut down Halo’s powers? Fight Vic! “The problem is I had too much.” So it was panic. Now save him!

- Yeah, go save the other kids! 

- The conversation between Junior and SB is so chill (no pun intended) and funny. “She was my girl.” “But I was into her.” Dudes, it’s not a competition or a race, just let the girl decide maybe? 

- “Maybe that means there’s hope for me too!” Redeem arc foreshadowing? 

- “Ow.” Junior plays dead. 

- Can we appreciate SB’s combat style? 

- Princess speech! 

- The Black girl speaks French? Who they could be? Anita?

- League and Team squads were successful” I wish we could have seen them :( 

- Dr Jace activated Tara’s metagene on the blackmailing to kill her :o 

- Princess speech! :D 

- Violet cry of joy is so cute! :) 

- “M’gann’s gonna kill me.” xD 

- Wait, why is Dr Jace taking Violet’s, hair? 

- “They’re ready for the Team!” We’re gonna go our children back! But maybe give Tara some rest?

- “I’m in.” So we go for the Judas Contract storyline? Or that is a mislead?

- Wolf in the Bioship!

5 months to wait now :( 

[reallyautomaticvoid]

Calling It: Unbirthday

The Titans throw an Unbirthday party for Tim.

“This is, without a doubt, the stupidest idea either of you has ever had.”  Cassie watches as Bart zips around the Tower, putting up streamers.

“It’s not the stupidest idea we’ve ever had,” Conner defends while he’s floating near the ceiling, trying to hang a banner on the wall.

“Yeah, that’s defiantly the time we put chocolate pudding in a bucket over Tim’s door,” Bart adds.  He puts the last streamer in place before turning around to watch Conner attempting to hang the banner.  “Hurry up, we gotta get the tower ready before Tim gets here and he’ll be here in like twenty.”

Conner glares at Bart for half a second before reaching over and pulling down on the first streamer that Bart had taped up.  Bart squeaks, racing to catch the paper before it reached the ground.  Bart finds it before it touches down and has it back in place before Conner can blink.

“Perfect.”  Bart claps his hand together.

“For what?  Turning the Tower into a piñata?”

And, in all fairness, Cassie might have a point on that one.  

Maybe.  

But not really.

Because, currently, there's more crepe paper in the living room of Titans Tower than Times Square has on New Year's Eve.  In three point three seconds flat, Bart had managed to hang streamers to every high stop in the room (even with Cassie’s commentary).

“Just don’t hit it,” Conner says, floating down to ground level to check his handy work (the banner is spot on, fuck yeah), “I don’t think Tim’s security system is full of candy.”

“Tim’s going to hate this.”

“He’s not.”

“Oh really?”  Cassie arches an eyebrow.  “Are we talking about the same eighteen going on eighty-year-old?”

“Yep, that’s the one.  There’s going to be cake.  Everyone loves cake.”

“No, everyone does not love cake.”  Raven enters carrying a vat of punch with Miguel who has a covered dish and Gar with several bags of chips, popcorn, and cups.

“Well,” Bart pauses, “Tim does, I’m sure.”  

Raven hitches an eyebrow to matches Cassie.

“Shh, shhh.  It’ll be fine.”

The room drops a degree.

“Do not shush me, Bart.  Or would you like to visit the 5th dimension?   Again?”  Raven asks, sweet as sugar.  

It made Conner’s blood run cold.

Bart froze, eyes wide as saucers.  “Please, no.  Mxyzptlk is not someone I’d like to visit again.”

Conner swears he catches a glimpse of a smile flash on Raven’s face as she, Gar, and Miguel set the different munches down on the table.  

The scent of peppers mixed with onions, garlic, and tomatoes all made Conner’s mouth water.  There was already an apple pie (thanks Ma), some delicious concoction that Bart’s made (it’s six different colors, and Conner had no idea what any of it is made of), and Cassie had brought coffee cake.  

“I still think this is a terrible idea,” Cassie repeats for probably the hundredth time that day.

“You’re right; we need more glitter!”

Cassie’s eyes go wide.  “That’s not—”

“Oooo, even better, a glitter bomb!  Be right back!”  Bart dashes off before anyone can say no.

“Gee, can’t see how this will end poorly.”

“Oh, shut up, G.”  Cassie massages her temples.

“Hey man, don’t blame me,” Gar says, picking up some popcorn.  “You’re the one who gave him the idea.”

“Not for a glitter bomb!”

Smirking, Gar adds, “maybe Bart will throw in some sparklers that’ll spell out ‘Happy Birthday Tim’.  I mean, if he’s gonna kill us, we might as well go out with a bang.”  

“Don’t give Bart any ideas.  He'll do them.” Conner groans.  “Hey, Miguel, are those homemade tamales?”

“Sí!  Mama and I made them last week.”

Conner quickly takes a tamale from the top of the pile.  “You and your mother are my favorite.  Thankyouthankyouthankyou!”  

“De nada,” Miguel laughs as Conner unwrap the tamale before shoving the whole thing into his mouth.  “I still say we should have gotten Tim that puppy we saw last week.”

Conner violently shakes his head, still chewing the mouth-watering deliciousness known as a tamale.

“No,” Cassie said, also shaking her head. “Trust me, you weren’t around when Damian first got Titus.”

Swallowing, Conner adds, “yeah.  Tim claimed that Titus was, and I quote, ‘a bloodthirsty beast who is intent on biting my toes off’.”

“In fairness, it is Damian’s dog.” Gar tries (and fails) to catch the popcorn he’s throwing up into the air into his mouth.

“No, I’ve met Titus,” Conner shakes his head.  “He’s more likely to lick you to death than to nip you.  No, Tim’s a cat person.  Even Tim has admitted that.”

“I think it would be unwise to give Tim any sort of responsibility without talking to him first,” Raven says in her we are now done with this tone of voice.

Suddenly, Bart comes running into the room.  “He’sherehe’sherehe’shere!”

“What, no glitter bomb?”  Raven swats at Gar who changes into a bird to avoid it.

“Notime.  He’s here.  Everyone hid!” 

Cassie’s eyes got wide.  “Uh, this is a surprise party?  Do you really think that’s a good idea—BART,” she shrieks as Bart grabs her before hiding her behind the couch.

“Sorry.  No time.  Must hide.”  

Bart takes Miguel in one hand and Gar in the other, who both laugh (because, what else can you do when a speedster grabs you?), hiding them behind the snack table.  Conner hides behind the couch with Cassie.

Bart stops in front of Raven.  

Raven raises an eyebrow.

“You’re good here.”  

Conner has to slap a hand to his mouth to stop himself from laughing out loud at Bart's face.  Priceless.

Bart hits the lights before disappearing.  There was a minute where everyone held their breath.

Finally, Conner hears the almost silent steps that signaled Tim’s approach.

The door to the living room hisses open. 

“What the he—?”

“SURPRISE!  Happy Birthday!”  

Everyone sprung out of their hiding places (except for Raven who was sitting on the couch) and boy, was Conner glad that he did.  It’s always a rare joy when they catch a Bat unaware.  An array of emotions flashes across Tim’s face ranging from shits about to hit the fan alllllll the way to what the fuck has my life become?

Tim blinks in the doorway, clutching his paperwork as if it were a lifeline.  

“It’s not my birthday.”

Bart waves Tim off.  “Details.”

Before Tim can say anything else, Bart is dragging Tim into the living and somehow managing to steal Tim’s paperwork.  Bart hands Tim a cup of coffee before running away to (hide) put away his work.

Conner floats over to were Tim is standing in a daze.

“Hey man, happy birthday.”  Conner clinks his cup with the cup still in Tim’s grasp.

This seems to knock Tim out of his daze.  

“It’s not my birthday.  My Birthday was si—my birthday’s in six months.”

“Yep,” Conner agrees, sipping his punch.

“So then why—all this?” Tim waves his free hand wildly around the room.

“Because we weren’t here six months ago to celebrate.  Because Bart and I feel bad that we weren’t here to celebrate.  Instead of doing something stupid and fun for your birthday, you were in the middle of the desert with a madman who was trying to get you to join his cause all while dealing with your newly missing spleen.”

Tim flinches.

Remorse instantly floods Conner’s system.

“Hey, man, sorry, that was harsh.”  Tim nods.  “But, really man, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault that super douche got you,” Tim mumbles so quietly that if Conner didn’t have super hearing, he wouldn’t have heard it.

“It’s not yours either.”

“Yeah it—” Tim starts.

“No.”

“Logically—”

“Nope.”

“I’m the team—”

“Nay.”

“But—”

“Nerp.”  Conner sips his punch.

Tim pinches the bridge of his nose.  “Are you going to let me finish a sentence?”  

“You just did.”  

“That was a question, not a sentence.”

“And there’s your sentence.” Conner grins at the exasperated look on Tim’s face. 

Tim took a deep breath, letting“I hate you.”

Conner claps a hand on Tim’s back.  “Love you too, bro.  Now, shut up and enjoy your birthday party.”

So, it was my birthday a few days ago, and I thought of this.

I hope you liked it!

And here’s a link to the AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18379064

[afangirlwashere]

Risk pt.1 (Peter Parker x superhero!reader)

Summary: (Y/N) starts attending the Midtown School of Science and Technology and her first day does not go so well. How does she deal with the aftermaths of Thanos?

A/N: Okay this is another attempt. The Bucky fanfic is kinda.. not.. doing.. well... But whatever! I had an idea so I put it into words! And it’s here! I just want you all to know that some things are changed a little. The timeline is a bit different! Here’s how: Peter, Ned and Michelle are still sophomores and this whole thing is kinda like - Homecoming happens - Thanos happens almost immediately. Just a little explanation for all of you.

Warnings: INFINITY WAR SPOILERS!!! a little sad (only at the beginning tho), and there’s like one part I’m a little insecure about but I think it’s fine  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

part 2  part 3  part 4

________________________________________________________________

Midtown School of Science and Technology.  Does it sound nice? Not at all. Is it necessary? According to Mr. Stark, it is. (Y/N) just helped saving half of the population and a few days after she has to start attending a new high school. No pressure right? 

New York is amazing though.  Mr. Stark got her an apartment in Queens not too far from Peter’s. He had his reasons to do so. She doesn’t know that yet though. 

(Y/N)’s interaction with Peter was short. She barely knew him.  But she very clearly remembered the fear in his face when she found him in that weird nothingness of... white. Surrounded in this color it looked like the boy was in heaven. 

How uncertain he was if this girl was really even there. If she wasn’t another one of his hallucinations. He was so alone it tortured him almost making him go bonkers. 

She remembered how hesitantly Peter approached her but once he was sure she’s real he threw himself onto her hugging her hips as tight as possible like a little kid that lost his mom in the shop and finally found her.

He was kneeling and embracing her so tightly she almost couldn’t breathe. 

“Don’t leave me here alone, please! Please don’t leave! I don’t want to be alone anymore, please, please...” his cries and sobs seemed to echo in the nothingness. 

Seeing him so desperate and terrified broke (Y/N)’s heart into million pieces. 

Remembering how she kneeled to him and hugged him as tightly as possible filled her with a tiny bit of hope. She’ll get him out of this miserable place. He was still crushing her hips and crying. 

It was only a week since Thanos snapped his ugly purple fingers but it seemed as if time passed differently here. There was nothing to do which must have been eating him alive. 

After a few more minutes of this (Y/N) finally managed to calm Peter down a bit and make him cooperate.  Frying his brain wasn’t particularly the best experience but it was the only way she knew how to bring him back among the living, bring him back to his aunt and Mr. Stark. 

She only saw Peter’s aunt once and it wasn’t the best first encounter. They didn’t interact and (Y/N) was pretty sure the woman didn’t even know she was there.  Mr. Stark on the other hand... He told her about Peter. It hurt him but he still did it. And he was the reason number one when it came to deciding who she’ll try to bring back first.

Hearing him scream in agony was another war sound that’s going to hunt her in her dreams. 

He woke up lying flat on the ground and (Y/N) was leaning over him.

“Hi.” she smiled.

“Are you an angel?” he exhaled with amazement.

That was their whole interaction.  Since then they saw each other only on the battlefield. No time to chit-chat there, unfortunately. 

(Y/N) isn’t even sure if he’s going to be in school today.  She nervously fiddles with the massive ring on her hand which had the letter W on it. A very nice lady welcomes her at the secretariat and gives her some papers. 

The hardest thing to do is finding her locker. She looked for it every break that they got. She considered asking someone if they could help her but for some reason, everyone in the hall seemed so... distant and mean. Their looks were judging or maybe analyzing her.  She even found herself looking for the Parker kid. He would have helped her. 

In the end, she decides to look for her locker at lunch break. Not eating at the time she’s supposed to isn’t something to be happy about though.  The halls are completely empty only a few noises from the cafeteria or the squeaking of boot soles from the gym can be heard.

(Y/N) is going around and checking the numbers. This is the third time she walked around the whole school and still nothing. It’s like her locker disappeared.  She was about to try for the fourth time when a girl with darker skin came out of the cafeteria. Her hair is black and it neatly curls at the ends. She’s very pretty and looks like a nice person in general which is a pleasant change after today. 

But there’s something off about her. The moment she walked out of the cafeteria her expression changed. She looked upset. But she also looked like a senior so she must know this school like the palm of her hand. Well... here goes nothing!

“Hey! Um.. hi! I wanted to ask if you could help with-” the girl interrupts her.

“I’m sorry but I’m kind of in a rush.” she points to the exit but smiles politely. 

“Oh... Okay. I’m new here so I have no clue where to find....stuff.” (Y/N) laughs at herself, hoping the awkwardness will fade away a little. 

“Good luck.” the unknown senior smiles as politely as before. 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around?” 

The unknown girl whispers “I don’t think so...” and leaves.

Okay... That was strange.

(Y/N) grips the paper with her lockers number tightly and finally decides to eat some lunch. 

Enough locker searching for today. She’ll try again tomorrow with more luck hopefully. 

There’s a girl sitting and leaning against the wall a few meters from the door to the cafeteria. Her hair is in a low ponytail just like (Y/N)’s.  Her lunch tray is next to her meanwhile she draws something in her sketchbook. 

(Y/N) completely understands how this girl feels. 

She gets her lunch just like everyone else. There’s not much left but a cheese sandwich and an apple should be enough. When her eyes land on a small orange juicebox her mood instantly improves. They had the same juice boxes at her old school. Seeing it here sends a painful nostalgy but at the same time, it fills her with happiness. 

When everything is on her lunch tray she heads out of the cafeteria.  There were a few eyes watching her “Where’s the new girl going?” kids from Flash's table start whispering. 

Flash looks around to find who are his friends talking about but he only gets to see her back. 

(Y/N) is relieved to find the girl in the same spot as before. The only difference is that her sketchbook is now closed lying next to her and she’s eating some pasta with vegetable sauce. 

(Y/N) sits next to the girl and puts the tray on her long legs. 

The girl sounds suspicious “Did Flash send you?” 

“Who?” (Y/N) frowns in confusion “No. No one sent me. I’m new here.” 

Her response is a subtle “Oh...”

They’re both silent for a minute. 

“I’m Michelle by the way. But my friends call me MJ.” she introduces herself.

“I’m (Y/N).”

“Are you new in New York? I haven’t seen any students transferring to our school in the middle of the school year.” Michelle asks.

Alright. We trained this. Just don’t panic. Be natural.

“It’s kind of a boarding school deal but... Not really. My parents live in L.A. they work in film. Not that they’re famous or anything they’re both cameramans. We don’t have much time for each other and their way of dealing with it is to send me away.” Lies, lies and more lies. 

Awkward and unclear. Perfect.

Michelle just nods. It looks like she believes her. 

“Is this your first day?”

“Yep.”

“Did you have Mr. Conner?” Michelle squints her eyes at (Y/N).

She’s a little lost in all the names of the teachers “Is it the one with the billy-goat beard or the one that smells like eggs?” 

“The one with the beard. The egg smelling one is Mr. Cooper. He makes us call him Steve because his childhood superhero and role model was Captain America. He’s trying to relate to us and be cool but he’s just making a fool out of himself.” Michelle shrugs. 

“Yeah, I had Mr. Conner. He seemed like a great math teacher. His beard is attractive to every girl in my class except me.” (Y/N) gives a little rundown of her thought.

“Great. You passed the test. We can be friends.” MJ nods to herself. 

This brings a smile on (Y/N)’s face. Weird friendship test but as long as she passed it she didn’t mind.

“Hey what were you drawing in that sketchbook?” it’s her time to ask questions. 

MJ isn’t very keen about sharing something with her. 

“Oh come on I answered all your questions. Plus I’m immune to the beard-beauty of Mr. Conner!” she makes MJ laugh a little.

“I just doodle people I see around me,” she says as she hands her the sketchbook. 

There’s a lot of doodles of students and teachers.  Happy, sad, stressed, angry, laughing, sleepy, concentrated. All the emotions you could possibly have in school. They’re there. 

Some of her works are just quick sketches and some look very elaborate.  There are two faces that look familiar to her but she stays silent. She’s not supposed to know anyone from here right? Let’s not put any doubts in MJ’s head. 

There are two pages devoted to superheroes. There’s Mr. Cooper as Captain America in all sorts of different poses.  The other page is devoted to Spider-Man. There are some good drawings of him swinging on his webs but there’s also one where he has the mask pulled off. It reveals a very very very masculine man with sharp cheekbones and longish dirty blonde hair. (Y/N) almost chokes on the juice she’s sipping. She wants to laugh so bad.

Oh wow. So this is what they imagine him to look like. 

The last drawing is a girl with a piece of paper in her hand. She looks very focused on what’s written on it but also.. confused. 

“Is that me?” (Y/N) turns to her new friend.

MJ smirks on the sketch “Yeah I couldn’t help but notice that you’re walking around the school for the third time with that same expression.” she comments. 

“Wow... You really do have a talent.” 

It’s nice to hear some recognition for once “Thanks.” 

For the rest of the lunch break, they talk about different things. School, hobbies or memes.  MJ even gave her her juicebox. (Y/N) is excited that she found a friend she can spend lunch breaks with.

________________________________________________________________

Day two and locker is still not found. 

This time (Y/N) didn’t walk through the whole school building three times but only once because she got so angry when locker B215 wasn’t next to B214 she made all of the trash from the small waste bins fly out.

Michelle sat on the same place as yesterday. She exchanged drawing for reading today. It seems that she’s really into this story.

(Y/N) stands before the cantine and looks at her options. She picks fish fingers and mashed potatoes. They don’t look appealing but they smell good which is hopefully a good sign.  To her delight, there are the same juice boxes as yesterday. 

With all her food and juicebox in place, she happily starts walking to the exit to go sit next to MJ. Before she can get to the doors some guy steps in her way. 

His clothes look starched and expensive. He’s definitely a nerd but the way he walks and holds his head high... A cocky, bigheaded, rich nerd. What a combination. This won’t end well.

“You’re (Y/N) right? You’re new here... I’m Flash Thompson.” he points a finger at her as he’s walking closer.

(Y/N) shifts her weight from foot to foot and waits for what’s going to happen.

“Look, you can sit at my table. You don’t have to be friends with losers that eat in the hallway. I can find a spot at my table for you. And maybe if you even ask nicely it can be right next to me.” Flash smirks.

All of a sudden (Y/N) isn’t as hungry as she thought. Her stomach is doing flips because of how disgusted she feels by that guy. Who the hell does he think he is to try and tell her where to sit?

“It’s fine. MJ gives me her juice boxes and draws me porn. I think I’m okay with her.” (Y/N) walks past him but Flash has the audacity to start speaking again and even catch her arm. 

“There was enough charity yesterday. A lot of people would give anything for the chance I’m giving you right now.” 

(Y/N) starts seeing red. She feels her powers slipping out of her control. Her blood is boiling.

Why does this Flash guy act like he’s giving her the opportunity of a lifetime? 

“Touch me one more time and I’ll break both your hands.” (Y/N) growls silently but pretty much everyone could hear because the cafeteria was drowning in silence. 

Everyone is watching them.

Out of nowhere, a familiar boy runs to them. 

It’s Peter Parker. 

“Woah woah guys let’s calm down before someone overthrows the water tank.” he makes unsubtle eye contact with the girl whos still surprised by his presence. 

“Bugger off Parker.” Flash wawes at him as if he was an annoying fly. 

(Y/N) finally turns around and walks out of the cafeteria not looking back. 

“What took you so long?” Michelle doesn’t look like she cares at all but there’s that something in her tone of voice which tells otherwise. 

“Some Flash guy was forcing me to sit at his privileged table,” she explains.

MJ starts to falsely choke which makes her new friend laugh.

The doors to the cafeteria open again. Both girls quickly redirect their attention to whoever wants to mock them again.

Peter’s standing there with another guy who’s shyly looking at the floor.

(Y/N) almost unnoticeably shakes her head to stop him. The further they stay away from each other the better. No one will even think they could have anything in common. The less attention the better. If someone reveals their superhero identities it’s over. 

Peter swiftly walks over to them and sits down right next to (Y/N). His friend follows. 

“What are you doing here?” (Y/N) asks as calmly as possible. 

“Well... I heard this is the place where losers eat. That’s exactly where we belong so we're here. And MJ is our friend too so if she sits in the hall we sit there too.” Peter announces with a proud smile waiting for Michelle's reaction.

She just shrugs “I don’t care do whatever you want.” 

Peter looks reconciled with his friend's behavior. 

“Oh by the way, I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m Peter Parker and that’s Ned Leeds.” he points at his friend who smiles a bit and nods but then continues to shyly look at the floor. 

“(Y/N)” she nods at them too .

Her and Peter exchange a look that says Well played.

They have to make it believable. 

“Miss Jones?” an unknown teacher walks around the corner “Kids why aren’t you sitting at a table in the cafeteria like the others?” he looks surprised. 

None of them answer until MJ takes it in her hands “Because we’re losers...” 

The teacher just stands there for a second and looks at them and they look back at him. He obviously doesn’t know how to respond to this. 

“Um.. Well.. Miss Jones can you come with me for a second I need to speak with you.” 

Michelle slowly gets up looking annoyed and disappears around the corner. 

The moment she’s gone Peter starts screaming in an undertone “What was that supposed to be?! What are you doing here?! Mr. Stark didn’t tell me about this and I thought you were going bac-”

“Woah woah can you calm down a bit? We still have company here.” (Y/N) looks directly at Peter’s friend who looks like he’s watching his favorite tv show and he’s on the edge to see what happens next. 

“What? Ned? He knows about everything.” 

“What?!!” (Y/N) shouts. 

“You don’t have to worry I won’t tell anyone. I’m like a locked vault.” Ned tries to reassure her. 

“Apart from that one time in gym class right...?” Peter frowns at his friend.

Ned looks ashamed. He backs off as if he wanted to disappear. 

“So he knows about everything that happened? He knows about me?” she asks.

“Yep. He knows everything.” Peter nods.

“Absolutely everything?” 

“Absolutely everything.” 

“Great.” (Y/N) rests against the wall again and closes her eyes to calm herself. 

Closing her eyes doesn’t really help because all she sees is that white nothingness with a terrified Peter in the middle. Talk about trauma. 

“You have to learn to control your powers my soda almost jumped out of the can.” Peter worries.

“You think it’s that easy? My powers aren’t controllable like yours. They’re like a ticking bomb!” she tries to explain.

“Why did Mr. Stark send you here then?”

(Y/N) lets out a sigh “He said I’ll have reasons to control it here. It’s supposed to be motivation. It’ll either work or end in a catastrophe.” she starts slurping her juice. 

Peter is nervously tapping his fingers on the food tray “Yeah that sounds like Mr. Stark.” 

He’s thinking how he could solve this situation. How to minimalize the risks?

Tag list: @royalestrellas

[starry19]

The Problem With Hope

aka No, I’m Not Dead and Really Sorry This Took Eight Years to Write

AN: I have many apologies to make. One, that this took so very, very long. I rather fell out of fandom life for a month or so. This was not necessarily a bad thing. Two, for whatever typographical errors you may find this piece. I don’t use betas, and I wrote it with only one contact in. Whee!

Part II

She woke to a pounding headache and the feeling of soft cotton against her cheek. She lay very still for a few minutes, adjusting to her surroundings.

The headache came from the absolute beating she had taken at Emma’s hands. And the steady thrum of a heartbeat belonged to Flynn, his good arm still wrapped around her. According to the streaked plexiglass slats on the wall, it was still night.

Heaven and hell, all together.

She needed to stop crying on the poor man, she thought. He didn’t appear to mind, but she didn’t want him to think that she continued to lean on him because she just needed someone to hold her for a while.

That was certainly true, but there was more, too.

She just…she wanted him.

He made her smile, made her feel safe, never asked for anything in return. Being with him was the easiest thing in the world, or at least, it was when she let her guard down, let him in.

She’d asked him if she could trust him, just before their trip to Salem. He’d nodded once, but that was the end of it. He had done everything in his power to earn that trust, to let her know she hadn’t made a mistake, either professionally or personally.

And now she was on the verge of trusting him with everything she had.

She shifted a little, face tipping up. He was already awake, green eyes warm and soft. He only ever looked this way for her, she suddenly thought. She got to see the Garcia Flynn no one else believed existed.

He smiled at her, and she snuggled back into his arms, not willing to give this moment up just yet.

For his part, Flynn didn’t seem inclined to kick her out of bed immediately, his hands brushing over her hair, down her back, lingering here and there, as if he was having difficulty with the idea of letting her go.

Perhaps it was just wishful thinking on her part. Perhaps he was just very good at being a gentleman.

They could, her brain informed her, have a conversation about this, like normal people. But they were both very far from normal.

And there was always the heartbreaking possibility of what if. What if he didn’t want her? What if he didn’t feel a thing when she was in his arms? What if he had never imagined what it would be like to make love to her?

She didn’t think she could quite deal with that scenario.

Not knowing was much better. If she knew, maybe she wouldn’t be able to pretend that he dreamed about her, that he was in this God-awful bunker just for her, that he thought about kissing her when his eyes sometimes dropped to her mouth.

Yes, not knowing was certainly better.

She burrowed deeper into his embrace, and he gently tugged the gray wool blanket up to her shoulders.

“Cold?” he murmured.

She was always cold, had been for months. Except that now she had a six and a half foot tall Croatian NSA agent wrapped around her.

“No,” she whispered back.

Flynn shifted her slightly, bringing her closer. She loved how this felt, tangled up with him. So safe, so protected. He smelled good, aftershave and a trace of cologne and something intrinsically him.

She could see the square outline of the gauze pad taped to his arm, a reminder that Emma had nearly taken him away, too. She hadn’t realized, when he’d held her in that alley, that he was bleeding freely, a remorseless piece of metal having ripped through him. It must have been agony, but he never let on.

“How’s the arm?” she asked now, striving for casual.

“I’ll do,” he said, noncommittally

Unexpectedly, he sat moved, back against his pillow. Tipped her chin up, very gently. Frowned at the pound of mince that passed for her cheek and eye.

“God, your lovely face,” he whispered.

She shrugged. “Apparently it’ll heal.” She hadn’t detected any trace of this injury on her future self.

His thumb brushed over the edge of her jaw and back again, and the moment stretched between them.

“What were you going to tell me?” she asked quietly, quickly. Before she lost her nerve. Before she could even think about it. “When Wyatt interrupted.”

His hand stilled. He took a breath, then met her eyes.

She knew what he was going to say. It couldn’t be anything else. And still, she wanted to hear it.

Carefully, with the barest amount of pressure, his thumb traced her bottom lip, avoiding the cuts.

“Not today,” he finally whispered, then smiled. “I think there’s probably enough for you to deal with at the moment.”

Her sense of disappointment was immediate. And painful. And, apparently, very obvious.

“Soon,” he said, hand still cupping her face. “I promise. When we get Rufus back.”

She did not approve of this answer. Was possibly pouting. Or she would have, if it didn’t hurt her face so badly.

And Flynn chuckled, lowly.

To her surprise, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the undamaged side of her face.

Oh, God. Was this happening?

She wondered, even as Flynn wrapped her up in his arms again, her head next to his heart once more.

She didn’t want to think about it. All she knew was that he was solid, he was here, he had never lied to her, he had never broken her heart.

She had needed the acknowledgment from Wyatt that he loved her. Despite everything that had happened between them, her heart still fluttered. She thought she understood what he was doing. He had…a lot to make up for. She wasn’t at all sure that he could make up for it. But it was important for her to know that he did love her, that she hadn’t just been a fling, that his heart had been involved as well.

God, but everything was such a disaster.

She closed her eyes.

When she woke, she was on her back, tucked under a blanket, her head on a pillow that smelled disarmingly like Flynn.

He wasn’t in the room.

Blinking, she padded out to the main part of the bunker, saw Jiya and Conner still frantically working. The look of hope in their eyes had not diminished, and she took heart from that.

She also took an ice pack from the freezer.

Flynn and Wyatt were having a quiet conversation, mostly about what Flynn knew about crossing your own lifeline.

Men, she thought. Literally a day ago, they were beating the hell out of each other. And then they had gone into battle together. She chose to ignore that Flynn had told her yesterday that he would really like to kill Wyatt. It was probably hyperbole. She hoped.

She sat down in a chair by herself, not wanting to make any sort of unintentional declarations, and gingerly pressed the ice to her face. This damn bruise was going to be an absolute rainbow of colors before it was all over.

There was a sudden silence from behind them.

Conner appeared.

“We’ve got it.”

Jiya’s eyes were shining. “We’ve got Rufus.”

It was chaos after that.

Four hours later, she anxiously hugged Wyatt, Flynn, and Jiya as they boarded the Lifeboat. She had been left behind, this not being a mission where a historian was required. Instead, both of her boys had been armed to the teeth, Flynn shucking his sling.

He had gently touched her face once, then he was gone.

They all were gone.

And she waited.

And waited.

Shut herself in Flynn’s room and tried to not panic.

An hour later, Agent Christopher came to find her. She refused to talk about the mission, but instead, taught her the basics of knitting. She was terrible at it, but it was distracting.

It seemed to her that the mission was taking too long. But what did she know?

A full fifteen hours later, time bent, and she waited, not breathing.

Out they came, looking worse than they had, bloodied, more battered. Flynn, Wyatt, Jiya.

Rufus.

She shrieked and ran to him. He caught her, whole and solid and breathing. And it was alright, she could breathe again, too.

Rufus gently pulled back to look at her. “Holy crap, Lucy,” he said. “What happened to your face?”

She grinned. It hurt. “I’m pretty sure I was trying to avenge your death.”

He gave her a look. “It didn’t go well, did it?”

She laughed, even though she had been pretty sure she would never even smile again.

It was the best night they’d had in ages. Whatever grudges were held were postponed. Agent Christopher had gone to get them pizza and had returned with a healthy supply of alcohol as well.

It was very late (or early, more like) when things settled down. Wyatt had passed out on the couch, and she couldn’t blame him for not wanting to go back to the room he’d shared with Jessica.

Instead, she’d draped a blanket over him, then gone to find Flynn again. It was becoming a habit of hers.

He looked like he had been waiting for her.

And was very relieved she had shown up.

He also looked exhausted, the shadows under his eyes very dark, eyes much more bloodshot than the few beers he’d had accounted for.

“You need to go to sleep,” she chided, but softly.

“Probably,” he said, sounding unconcerned.

“Go,” she told him, making a shooing motion at his unmade bed. Unmade, of course, because she had been the last one in it.

He raised an eyebrow. Appeared to be debating with himself.

Then he held out a hand. “Stay with me tonight,” he said, very softly. “Just to sleep,” he added, as though either of them were in any sort of condition to do anything else.

And, oh God, she could see in his eyes that he really and truly wanted her to stay. She was surprised at her own flare of yearning. To be held, to be protected. To be warm, safe.

So she placed her fingers in his palm, let him lead her.

His good arm went around her, protecting her back from the rasping of the wall, and she rested on her side, her head on his chest.

She took a breath in.

She had not expected how right this felt.

He turned his head slightly, pressed his lips against her forehead. “Do you want to know?” he murmured.

Her eyes closed. “Know what?”

She could feel him smile. “What I was going to say.”

Well, they were already here. Why not, she thought, recklessly.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Are you sure?” he teased. “Because I can’t take it back once it’s out there.”

Was he enjoying this? Was he drunker than she’d thought?

She lightly smacked his chest. “I’m sure.”

He cleared his throat formally, and she almost rolled her eyes. So dramatic.

“I was going to answer your question,” he said quietly. “About why I was here.” Gently, he traced her spine with a fingertip. “I am here for you,” he whispered. “Just you.”

And how nice was that to hear? That he was here for only her?

A quiet sigh escaped her, and she shifted against him, cheek against his heartbeat. It was steady, just like him.

He was her safe place to come back to. Not her anchor, not what was keeping her in one spot.

How in the hell had this happened?

She thought of the first time she’d met him, looking like Lucifer himself, the burning wreckage of the Hindenburg flaming behind him. He’d held her at gunpoint then, their first meeting.

Then she frowned.

No, he hadn’t.

He’d held Wyatt at gunpoint.

Rapidly, she thought. Had he ever pointed a gun at her, specifically? She’d stepped purposely into his line of fire once or twice, so she couldn’t count those.

No.

He really hadn’t.

He had threatened to kill her. Over a beer and a candlelit table. You don’t think I will? No, she hadn’t. Hadn’t been afraid of him since he’d shot Abraham Lincoln.

If he’d meant her harm, she’d understood, even then, she would be harmed.

And now he was here, and hers. Strong arms and broad shoulders and absolutely lethal accuracy with a weapon and the ability to cradle her like she was made of glass. In this moment, she might have been.

“I’m glad,” she whispered back, finally.

It was selfish, but she wanted to be someone’s priority.

With another flash of realization, she remembered that he had let Emma go without a chase. Because of her. Because he had been too concerned for her.

He’d had the opportunity to take out what she assumed was the brains of Rittenhouse, and he had passed on it.

She closed her eyes.

Tried to snuggle deeper into his arms.

He let her.

Kissed her hair.

A cuddly, affectionate Garcia Flynn? And she thought she’d seen it all before?

She was starting to realize that there was an entirely separate universe about to be opened to her.

And God, she couldn’t wait to see it.