#Tim: MM. Is it? Is it though? IS IT REALLY THOUGH

[outtamynoggin]

Bruce Wayne: Attention Thief

Tim: You know.. the more I think about it, the more unreasonable this is.

Jason: What?

Tim: I keep thinking about how reliant Bruce is on Dick and how Dick always replies in kind.

Jason: So what? Roses are red, violets are blue, get to the part where you say something new.

Tim: No, but I found Dick FIRST. I was the one who admired him. I was the one chasing him through newspapers, TV clips, and across Gotham’s rooftops. I was the one who met him first when Bruce was off brooding somewhere else! I was and AM the one who hangs out with him!

Jason: ...You're... starting to sound a little jealous.

Tim: I sound like someone who put in all the effort and should be reaping the rewards! By all logic, he should be dependent on me!

Jason: Tim. Buddy. You’re trying to out-obsess Bruce Wayne. Do you hear yourself? You’re one overly dramatic monologue away from becoming the next big villain if you continue.

Tim: *offended*

Jason: *shrugging*

Tim: ...You would know.

[goddamnitmahtin]

The Fenton Effect

(Or that one time a few Waynes joined a polycule)

(This got really long)

Danny sighed as he looked out at the rest of the city from Tuckers office. His boyfriend had secured himself a spot at Wayne Enterprises for something something technology and his office was on like the bajillionth floor of the building. It had an amazing view though. If only there wasn’t so much smog in the air it might have been beautiful at night.

“Danny I thought you were picking up the kids today,” Tucker said with surprise as he walked in.

Danny shook his head smiling, “Sam said that she wanted Dante and Ellie to bond with her new girlfriend after school today so she will be picking them up.” He made his way over to Tucker, giving him a kiss on the cheek, “I heard that you had some free time today so I could tell you away for a bit. It’s been a while since the two of us have had some time to ourselves without children running around.”

Tucker eyed him suspiciously, “Did you call my boss and ask to take me out for a bit?”

Danny chuckled, “Maybe…” He sat down in a chair, “Well actually I was going to steal you anyways but I just happened to bump into Mr. Drake. He recognized me and told me that if I were to steal you for a bit he didn’t see anything.”

Tucker sighed, “Danny, you and Sam are always stealing me from work for dates, eventually I’m going to get written up!”

Danny pouted in response, “We only do it when you insist on double shifts for week. It’s almost like we miss our boyfriend. Besides if Me CEO agrees with me that you work too much, that’s saying something hun!”

Tucker thought for a moment and then looked back to Danny, “Okay. Let’s go out for a couple hours.”

Danny hopped out of the chair again, “Yay! There’s this new restaurant I found that is supposed to have amazing steak.” He took Tucker’s hand and led him out of the office.

“Mm you know how to treat a man don’t you?” Tucker said in response, letting Danny pull him along.

“I try,” Danny said back wiggling his eyebrows as they went to the elevator.

…

Jason sat on his bike. He wasn’t in his Red Hood gear at the moment since he was just doing some recon. According to Tim, there was a newer family in town that he needed to look into. Apparently one of his employees had a boyfriend that appeared to be an un registered meta of some kind. Which normally wouldn’t be a problem but there was also the detail that when Tim did a background check on the family, it came up that they had two children neither of which had birth certificates or adoption papers or anything. Like they had appeared out of nowhere. Though Tim doubted it, he had still sent Jason to check it out in the off chance trafficking or some other fishy shit was going on.

He looked at the photos Oracle had provided of the targets he was looking for. Two of the 3 were supposed to be arriving at this restaurant soon. An African American man, the one working for WE, named Tucker Foley. The other… well this was interesting. When Jason went to look at the photo of the other man he was looking for named Daniel Fenton, he noticed the photo was grainy and distorted.

“Babs why does this Fenton guy’s photo look like a horror movie filter?” he said into his comms.

“That’s the best I can provide you with Jason, I’m sorry. All photos anyone takes of him are like that. I tried to clean it up the best I could. The last known photo of this guy without distortion I can find on public domain is from a yearbook photo when he was 14,” she responded.

Well fuck okay. Something was definitely up.

“Could you send that yearbook photo my way? As long as the guy hasn’t made any drastic changes to his appearance like dyed his hair or some sort of Botox I’m sure I’ll be able to figure it out,” he said softly as he didn’t want the car that pulled in next to his bike to hear him.

“On its way,” he heard from Babs before he started to pretend to be scrolling through his phone while the occupants of the car got out and entered the restaurant.

While on his phone he noticed a new message from Cass. She had met up with the woman of the family he was tracking. They had gone to the primary school to pick up the children and was on their way to get ice cream.

The message was followed by a selfie of herself holding hands with a goth woman with purple eyes and black hair. Jason recognized her as Samantha Manson from the third profile Babs had given him. On Samantha’s shoulders was a little girl with dark hair and blue eyes, laughing and reaching for the camera and at the woman’s side holding her hand was a small boy who looked the same age as the little girl who looked almost like a carbon copy of her. Probably twins. He was waving to the camera.

Jason immediatly noticed slight distortion around the children in the photo. Similar to the distortion from the Daniel Fenton file but not nearly as extreme as he could still identify the children in the photo if he were to see them out and about.

He sent Cass a thumbs up in response.

“I’m assuming you got the message too?” He spoke into his comms.

“I did. Looks like the kiddos might be whatever kind of meta this Daniel Fenton is. They do both carry his last name,” she responded.

“And his face…” Jason said as he pulled up the yearbook photo Babs sent him, “Are we sure these aren’t just his kids? Who cares if they weren’t properly documented, that kind of stuff happens all the time in small towns. Have you ever seen Clark’s papers? A fucking mess.”

He heard Oracle sigh, “I have unfortunately. I would be inclined to believe your theory except for the fact that based on their ages, they would have been born when Fenton was 15 but according to my records and from what I can get from Tim, Fenton is more inclined towards men.”

Jason scoffed, “Is that it? That’s not much of a reason at all. People experiment. I’m into guys too but that doesn’t mean I didn’t have a few girlfriends before figuring that out.”

“AND,” Babs continued (Jason had apparently interrupted her), “There’s also the bit where based on the DNA samples Cass has picked up from the kids and Tim has picked up from Fenton, all three of them have 100 percent identical DNA.”

Jason paused. If the DNA was all identical, how is it that two of them are male and the third is female? That wouldn’t be possible without some external fuckery. Not to mention two identical children who only have the DNA of one parent and not the other? This was definitely not right.

“Are you convinced we should look into it now?” He heard Oracle’s voice say into his comms.

“Yeah yeah I’m gonna poke around,” he said while hopping off his bike, “Let me know if anything else comes up.”

Jason ruffled a hand through his hair, took a fucking breath, and walked into the restaurant.

…

Sam wasn’t nervous…. no not at all. She was just taking her kids to get ice cream after school. With a really pretty lady….

Sam had met Cass a few weeks ago at a small cafe when she was stopping by to get Danny a coffee since he was holing himself up in his workshop for two days at that point and she was hoping the smell would tempt him out of his hole. The two of them got to talking, well signing, while waiting in line and they had hung out a few times since then. Danny and Tucker made fun of her crush but who wouldn’t crush on such a beautiful lady?

Now they were standing in line for the ice cream cart in the park. Not many people went to Ivy’s park but that just made it better for Sam because the line was never long. Besides, None of the plants ate you if you respected them and the ice cream was guaranteed to be Ivy Approved which meant it was ethically sourced.

Currently, Dante was signing to Cass (Cass had told Sam that they didn’t need to sign back if they didn’t want to but Sam had told her that signing was an important thing she wanted the kids and herself to get better at) about his new favorite star that Daddy taught him about and Ellie was playing with one of Ivy’s safer sentient plants. Sam kept an eye on her.

“Now what did I say about the plants at Miss Ivy’s park Ellie?” she called.

“I can look but no touch unless Miss Ivy says so,” Ellie called back, smiling. She seemed to have made a friend with a rather large flower.

Sam nodded and smiled when the child remembered.

She then felt a tap on her arm and looked to see Cass signing, “Not many people come to this park, you seem to not be afraid of the rogue who has claimed it?”

Sam shrugged and signed back while she spoke, “Poison Ivy may be an extremist but I respect her want to preserve natural flora and fawna. My boyfriends and I have already decided that we want to teach the children to respect those things as well since they are important for the health of the people and the Earth. So we come here since Ivy does not have anything against innocent children but if one of them were to misbehave with a sentient plant, they would have an easier time understanding why it is wrong because Dante and Ellie have higher empathy than most.”

Which was true. But also the reason it worked so well is because since the plants were kind of sentient, Ellie and Dante could tell if they accidentally killed one and it made them sad enough to not want to hurt them. They found that out on accident once and since then the children have been strangely fond of the park. But she wasn’t going to tell Cass that.

Sam was nervous that Cass didn’t like that but honestly they were her children and Cass didn’t seem opposed to the park in the first place when the kids suggested it.

After a few moments Cass nodded in response and signed, “Boyfriends? As in plural?”

That was not what Sam was expecting her to ask and it made her blush in embarrassment that she hadn’t explained it sooner. “I am polyamorous. I have two boyfriends. The three of us raise the children together,” she signed although he had a hard time remembering the sign for polyamorous so she ended up spelling it out.

“You all date each other?” Cass signed, curious.

Sam smiled, she didn’t seem to be judging her lifestyle which was something she didn’t find very often. It was part of the reason they had to leave Amity Park in the first place. It was helpful when Tucker got the Timothy Drake scholarship which was a full ride for Computer Science and Engineering at Gotham University.

When they moved into Gotham after that, they weren’t allowed to live on campus with him so Sam and Danny had to start out in a small apartment near Ivy’s Park so they always kept some plants in the window for protection since they had children of course. Since then, Sam had gotten a job as a personal assistant for some rich woman her family was friends with and Danny was working part time at as a bartender during the night shift and was a stay at home Daddy during the day until the kids were old enough for school.

When Tucker graduated he was immediately hired on at WE and not long after that, they bought their much nicer house in a much nicer neighborhood close to Wayne Manor. Was it mostly Tucker’s salary? Admittedly yes, WE pays very well to ensure the employees live in good neighborhoods. But Sam made quite a bit as well and since Danny got the space to tinker with his gadgets and quit bartending as often (he still did it occasionally when his old boss would ask), he had started making a good amount selling his one of a kind clocks mostly. Sam just knew Clockwork was so proud.

Sam signed as she spoke again, “Yes, Tucker is bisexual and Danny and I prefer the term pansexual. We are all together because we are poly (spells it out), and we are open to any of the three of us dating others as well as long as we all discuss and we are honest. Because we have kids we want to make sure our bond and trust is always strong. We want to be together for a long time. See the littles grow up and all that fun stuff.”

Sam was excited to talk about it with someone other than her boyfriends or Jazzy on the phone. No one ever actually wanted to listen about that stuff because people didn’t like things they didn’t understand right away.

They were at the head of the line now though it was going to have to wait until after they got their sweets. Sam corralled the kiddos and asked them what they wanted. Dante and Ellie decided they wanted to share a sundae and Sam ordered herself the Ivy recommended option of the week. She also offered to pay for whatever Cass ordered but before she could, the woman was already paying for everyone.

Sam lead the kids to a park bench where they all sat down. Ellie and Dante immediately started to rock paper scissors for the cherry on top and it wasn’t long until Dante tried to cheat and Sam confiscated the cherry so they wouldn’t start fighting. She didn’t need them to accidentally use their powers in public.

“You didn’t have to pay,” she said, “But thank you.”

Cass smiled and very softly said, “It’s okay. I like you.”

Sam’s cheeks burned. Cass had told her that she did speak sometimes and that her mutism was selective but she didn’t expect her voice to sound so… pretty.

…

Jason immediately found the targets in a corner table. Most notably a corner table that Fenton had a view of every exit from. Only people who are used to either defending or fleeing at a moment’s notice did that. It wasn’t helping the theory that something was going on.

Fenton hadn’t changed much from the highschool yearbook photo. He looked slightly taller and he had slightly broader shoulders than before but overall the guy was still lanky and thin. His hair was still dark and he still styled it in a similar way. His eyes were still huge and round on his face. The most noticeable difference to the photo though? Danny was much MUCH paler. Almost like a walking corpse. And the eyebags were hard to miss.

Jason sat himself at a table within earshot of the two, ordering himself a beer and some appetizer he didn’t actually read. He was much too focused on listening.

For the most part, it seemed pretty normal stuff. Work, flirting with one another, commenting on the food. But then it got interesting when Foley brought up their supposed children.

“Dante told me you taught him about the dog constellation the other day. He told me Sirius was his new favorite star,” Foley mused.

A chuckle from Fenton, “Yes, he has been super into animals recently so I showed him some constellations like the dog, serpent, eagle, bull. That sort of thing. We used your old PDA to look up where they were in the sky and even pulled up pictures of some of the stars. He was floating with excitement when I showed him the Sirius star. He lost control though and Sam had to help me get him off the ceiling.”

Floating?

“I never thought I would say that I am glad that they don’t have all their tricks yet. Imagine if either of them went intangible when they were infants. I would have had a heart attack,” Foley responded.

Intangibility?

“Tell me about it! Highschool would have been a hell of a time if either of their eyes started glowing. We wouldn’t have had babysitters while we were in class,” Fenton remarked.

Glowing eyes?

“We already hardly had babysitters. I remember taking Ellie to math class,” Foley seemed to chuckle at the memory.

Jason noted all of the strange things the two seemed to be expecting of the children at some point. It was definitely not non meta human type stuff. One thing he did note though was that they seemed to have had the kids since infancy which at least boosts the chances of the children being their own and not trafficked or stolen.

Fenton got up apparently to use the restroom and Foley got up from his seat to sit in Fenton’s while he was gone. More suspicious behavior. But from what Jason could tell, out of the two of them Fenton was the one who would be the first to react. He sat with the view first and only after his leaving did Foley feel the need to take up the same position.

Jason considered leaving right then but he knew that he wasn’t going to get answers that way. The other reason he didn’t leave right away was a message from Cass.

Cass: They are polyamorous.

Jason didn’t know what that meant. He sent back a question mark.

Cass: They are polyamorous. Fenton, Foley, and Manson are all dating each other. They raise the kids together in one household with 3 parents.

Jason thought about it. That would make sense as to why they all shared one address. There was one thing though that it did open up. If Fenton was indeed dating both of the other two, that would mean that he was attracted to women. The kids biologically very well could have been his and he was simply a teen dad.

Jason: Has Manson mentioned carrying them or any mention of a mother?

Cass: No. She treats them as her own but she shows no sign of previous pregnancy. Plus neither of them look like Sam at all.

Jason: Noted. Keep me updated.

If Manson wasn’t the biological mother, it didn’t mean someone else couldn’t have been one. Jason didn’t really know how any of this polyamory stuff worked but from the way Foley was describing it, the relationship had already been established when the children entered their lives. Unless Fenton was unfaithful in some way? Jason sighed, biting his knuckles as he felt the pressure in his chest. The pits were acting up.

Jason looked up from his phone once he felt it calm down just to see blue eyes glaring at him. Fenton was standing a few feet from his table, his eyes staring directly into Jason’s soul. The man looked offended as if Jason had done something to him.

Suddenly he felt the Lazarus pits acting up again. It felt like he was shot through the chest with a spear of ice. Like… he was getting told off for saying something bad. And it felt like… it came from Fenton? Somehow?

Jason tried to make sense of it, looking at the man in front of him but he seemed to be satisfied with whatever the fuck that was and went back to his table, giving Foley a kiss on the cheek.

“You alright Danny? You glitched for a second there,” Foley said.

Fenton scoffed, “Some dead guy’s core let out a signal that pissed me off. Tried to insinuate that I cheated on you and Sam. Fucking prick.”

Jason panicked. How did this fucker know he died? Things were getting weirder and weirder and now this guy knew things about him that he shouldn’t have… he had to keep following these guys.

…

Okay so Jason didn’t get much after that. He followed Fenton and Foley back to WE from a distance. Or at least at a distance that was far enough for the pits to not act up. Ever since Fenton got close to him at the restaurant, the pits were going crazy. It was like the man made it feel different. There was no anger or violent urge. It was like he wanted to do something but he didnt really know what it was. But he knew it wasn’t hitting people like usual.

Nothing much happened and once he and Cass were recalled to the Batcave, he retreated and went to go meet B and the others. Even Tim had taken a lunch break for once to meet up.

“So what are your reports,” Bruce asked.

Before Jason could get a word out, Cass started signing excitedly and very fast. He didn’t catch hardly any of it.

“Cass, slow down a bit,” Bruce said trying his best to sign back what he knew.

Jason paid closer attention this time as Cass signed at a pace everyone could understand.

“I think Sam is really nice and a good mom. We went to the school together to pick up the twins and they were very happy children. Ellie was very bubbly and and Dante was much calmer. Sam took us to the park to get ice cream after and we talked a lot. She, Danny, and Tucker are in a polyamorous relationship and are raising the kids together. They said that they were open as well if any of them wanted to date others. They trust each other a lot and love the kids a lot. Sam had good values and was teaching the kids the same. I think they are unconventional but very happy as a family. Like us.”

Jason watched as the others nodded, some seeming to understand it more than others. Someone was definitely going to have to sit Bruce down and explain it. He was also going to ask for more of a crash course later. Probably from Cass directly. Or maybe Babs if she knew.

After a few moments of processing what he did understand Bruce turned to Jason, “And what did you find out.”

“Shit’s weird with Fenton. I’m going to go back and get more intel,” Jason stated, “But from what I got on the kids? They’ve been taking care of them since infancy. Mentioned parenting them as babies in high school. And they seem to think that they are going to develop powers. Glowing eyes and intangibility. Fenton mentioned the boy Dante being able to float already. Definitely metas.”

“Maybe we are being over paranoid. It sounds like a teen pregnancy situation in a small town where paperwork isn’t always filed properly,” said Steph, putting her hands in her hips.

Jason shook his head, “Nah that Fenton guy is fucking weird. Did shit that Bruce taught us. Made sure the table was seated in a corner where he had a view of every exit. Civilians don’t do that shit.”

“Only people who are expecting a fight do,” Tim agreed.

The entire room knew that was one of the first things Bruce taught them when it came to safety in public. In their line of work they always had to be vigilant for every possibility.

Bruce conceded, “Jason, keep following Fenton. I have some things I need to look up I think.”

…

Danny was fucking PISSED. How fucking dare that guy have the nerve to not only think that but then broadcast the insinuation from his weak ass core? He would never EVER cheat on Sam and Tucker! He would NEVER betray their trust like that!

He fiddled with his newest clock commission angrily, his core feeling personally attacked. There was a gear that wasn’t really working right and he was probably going to have to remake it but honestly he didn’t really care at the moment.

“Danny…” he heard Sam call. Her voice made his core purr, feeling the slightest bit better.

Danny leaned up from his clock and looked to see his beautiful girlfriend in the doorway, “Hi Sam.” He sighed, trying to let the anger fall away. How could he ever betray his loves?

Sam must have read his face like a book because she walked over and slid her arms around him from behind.

“You’re brooding baby,” she cooed, leaving a kiss on his cheek.

“I just can’t believe that guy! The fucking nerve,” Danny growled. Though his growl didn’t have any sort of malice behind it at the moment. Sam knew how to calm him down. Physical touch was one of his love languages.

“Danny it’s been a week since you saw him on your date. And you put him in his place. I know you would never do that. Tuck knows. That’s all that matters,” she said softly.

She was right of course. But Danny’s ghost instincts were super protective and he couldn’t help it sometimes. But again, she was right. He let himself take a deep breath mostly for her benefit to show he was trying to get over it.

“Good. Keep taking deep breaths. It’s okay to feel protective and it’s okay to let the feeling subside when the danger is gone,” Sam continued to talk softly, knowing she could talk sweetly to him until he felt better.

It was working. Danny focused on letting his core relax, the danger was gone. The only entities in his haunt were himself, his partners, and his children. No threat.

Next thing Danny heard was whooshing sounds as his kiddos flew into the room, both in their ghost forms. Their hair was white and their eyes glowed. Ellie’s glowed green and Dante’s glowed red.

When Dante first transformed, Danny, Tuck and Sam were unsure if they were going to be red or green since they were red back when he was Dan. When they did glow red, Danny guessed that it was most likely because it was what was familiar to him.

“Dante found a cool rock,” Ellie said excitedly.

Dante then presented the cool rock for Danny and Sam to look at. It was purple and looked like one of the crystals Sam liked to collect.

“Where did you find it,” he asked, just to make sure they didn’t just steal it from the collection Sam kept in her room.

“It was on the floor in Papa’s office,” Dante said proudly. Ah. It must have fallen out of one of Sam’s pockets at some point.

Danny smiled, looking at his son’s pride in finding it, “Good find buddy!” He turned his head to look at Sam, “What kind of rock is it Momma?”

Sam ceremoniously took the rock from Dante and used Danny’s bright work table lamp to get a look at it, “This seems to be a purple amethyst. Good work Dante.” She smiled brightly, encouraging the excitement of the kiddos for the find.

“Purple amythest,” Ellie repeated excitedly.

“It’s really pretty Momma,” Dante said, looking at the small polished stone. Danny could feel his son’s core buzzing happily about it.

“Why don’t you keep it in your room Dante? Then you can look at it whenever you want to,” Sam said smiling and giving it back to the floating red eyed child.

“Really?” Dante asked.

“Of course kiddo,” Danny added. He felt Dante’s core give off a burst of happiness. It made him smile.

“I’ll go put it in my room!” the boy said happily and flew through the wall out of the room.

Ellie then began to pout, “How come I don’t get a pretty rock?”

“When you find one, you’ll get to keep it too,” Sam smiled, “Now I believe your Papa mentioned a Bluey marathon scheduled for tonight. Why don’t you go get your brother and maybe together you can convince Papa to make you some popcorn?”

Danny felt Ellie’s core start to buzz with excitement and determination as she nodded and flew out of the room fast.

Once Ellie was out of the room, Sam gave Danny a kiss on the cheek, “Since Tuck is watching the kids tonight, how about we go get you some more relaxed?”

Danny chuckled, feeling his core buzz. He closed up the clock he had been working on and came to a stand, facing Sam.

“More like wear me out,” he said, giving her a kiss.

“Well of course,” Sam smirked as she took his hand and led him to her bedroom.

…

Jason watched Fenton for like a week. A whole ass week and he got absolutely nothing on the guy. The only times he ever left his house was for dates with either Foley or Manson or to pick up his kids. At this point Jason was positive they were his in some capacity. The DNA proved that much and he seemed like a pretty standard stay home dad. There was one time that week where after school he took Dante and Ellie to an observatory but as long as Jason wasn’t close enough for the pits to react to him he seemed like just some guy.

Jason slumped onto the couch in the first floor living room of the manor. He didn’t like being here but everyone was out busy today and apparantly someone in the family needed to be there to sign off on some sort of delivery. He didn’t understand why Alfred couldn’t just sign it but the butler had refused, insisting that Jason be the one to do it. It was so annoying.

It wasn’t like he had anything to do that day anyways. Periodically he had all his guys in his organization take a day off and he had promised them today. Not to mention he was “on rest” from patrolling after his fucking helmet broke after falling down a fire escape. Embarrassing as fuck. But he still had to wait for a new one because that was his last spare.

He just didn’t understand. On the surface level, Fenton seemed like a normal ass dude. But he knew what he felt. And knew what he heard. The fucker could tell Jason was kind of dead. And he did.. something to him at that restaurant. The pits kept pulling him toward the guy like he was some sort of fucking magnet.

“Master Jason, the delivery is at the front door sir,” Alfred said appearing out of fucking nowhere.

“Thank you Alfred,” he said as he got up to go do the stupid signing thing. Once it was done, he could jet outta there and start following Fenton around again.

Jason made his way to the front door and opened it only to find it was none other than the creepy fucker himself. The pits sparked in his chest making him squeeze the door a little too hard.

“You,” said the pale man, his eyes burning with disgust. The pits didn’t like that. Suddenly, Jason had an urge to make sure the anger on the man’s face went away. At first Jason thought that was fucking stupid but honestly… being nice might be a good plan.

Now that they were face to face in proper lighting, Jason was able to really get a good look at Daniel Fenton. Of course he knew what the guy looked like. Obviously. He had been stalking him. But this was the first time he had been able to really register it.

Like he had noted before, his hair was dark and he was pale as fuck. But what he hadn’t seen before was the way his hair was blacker than anything he had ever seen before, shining in places that the locks caught the light almost like little stars in a night sky. His eyes were big and bold, an icy hue that that sent shivers down the spine. He was pale of course but not in the way that made one think he had never seen sun before, more in the way that dead bodies look during funerals. All the blood drained from the body. His cheekbones were sharp giving his face a sunken in look like he was malnourished even though Jason fucking knew he wasn’t. His stature was lean and lanky but clearly he was hiding some muscle because he was carrying a big ass clock that no doubt weighed a shit ton like it was nothing.

Jason hated to admit it. He really did. However. Daniel Fenton was attractive.

…

Danny couldn’t fucking believe it. That dead motherfucker was a Wayne. His core buzzed with anger and he had to take a breath to calm it.

“Yeah it’s me,” said the asshole.

Danny sighed and maneuvered the clock into one arm and gave paper to the guy, “Just sign it.”

Now after doing this he realized that casually holding a heavy ass clock like a football was not the normal thing to do since the man obviously took note of it as he stared a little too long before taking the sign form. However, he already made the decision and he was gonna have to stick to the bit.

Once this guy signed the paper and took the clock he could just leave. Just fucking go. And he could make a note to never take a commission from this address again so he wouldn’t have to see him again. He could do that.

“Hey, I’m sorry about what happened,” the really fucking large man said as he signed the paper. Danny checked the guy’s core. He was being genuine. And it was also giving off confused vibes. Ancients, why- This guy didn’t even know what he did. Fucking of course. Ughhhh and now because Danny was a good person he was gonna have to explain it to him. Fucking great.

Danny sighed, “It’s… fine. Where do you want me to install the clock?” He wasn’t going to talk about this shit openly. He could do it once they were inside.

The man seemed confused but let him in anyways, “I don’t really know where B wants it. For now I guess you could put it on this table over here.”

Danny noted the small table in the entrance hall and put it down where he was told to. Once his hands were free, he collected the sign form from the man and folded it, storing it away in his back pocket.

“Now, I assume you have a shit ton of questions,” he said.

The tall man nodded, “So fucking many.”

A butler escorted them to a sitting room of sorts and disappeared again without a sound.

“Are you okay with him possibly overhearing any information I give you….” Danny realized he didn’t actually know this guy’s name.

“Yeah that’s fine,” said the man, sitting in a chair. Danny decided to sit across from him on a couch. It was off putting how docile this guy was acting with just how fucked up his core seemed to be.

“My name is Daniel Fenton. You can call me Danny. It seems you were never really explained to about this whole being dead thing,” Danny started. He didn’t really know how to go about this. With Dante and Ellie it had always been free knowledge for them to ask about whenever they needed but there was no sit down conversation where he had to like, reveal their identities or anything.

“No. I wasn’t aware there were rules,” the man said, a smile tugging at his lips at his own joke. Now normally, Danny would laugh at that. Because let’s be honest, he would. But he was a bit caught up in realizing that this guy he spent that last week hating was fucking huge. Tall as fuck. At least 6 foot. And his wingspan had be just fucking outrageous. His shoulders were wider than Danny’s front door at home.

Once he noticed that, Danny took an actual good look at the guy. His hair was black mostly, with a signature white streak in the front, no doubt a side effect of dying. It seemed to be a permanent feature rather than something brought on by transformation like for Danny and his kiddos. His eyes were blue, a solemn almost sad blue but they were still very beautiful. He had eyebags for days, probably didn’t get the proper nutrition very often only eating human food with no ecto in his diet. Sleep was probably not a thing either. He was nothing but muscle all over, no doubt an effect of him dying and then getting better. He was covered in scars as well that looked as though they healed a little too quickly to be proper. All in all, everything pointed to gaining the very sliver of his ghost powers without any of them making it to the finish line. Even so, he was the type of guy anyone with eyeballs would swoon over.

“Mr…… Wayne?” Danny guessed. He immediately felt the man’s core recoil in disgust. Okay so not Wayne.

“Todd. My name is Jason Todd. My dad is Wayne. Not me. Just- just call me Jason,” the man said quickly.

Danny nodded and redirected, “Jason, before I start explaining all this stuff, when did you die and how come that’s not the case anymore?”

He again felt Jason’s core want to pull back but none the less he still answered, “I was… I don’t know? 15-16? I don’t fucking remember it was a while ago. Anyways, apparently I got revived by the Lazarus Pits so I was only dead for like 6 months or something.”

Danny nodded solemnly. He knew what it was like to die young. And of course Jason’s core and ghost powers were all fucked up. Those pits were nothing but a shit ton of toxic, contaminated ecto. He wasn’t surprised that when given the chance to create a halfa they would do it in the shittiest way possible.

“Okay so basically, you’re gonna want to buckle in cuz this is about to be a lot,” Danny said, making himself comfortable. They were gonna be here a while.

…

Tim paced his office. Back and forth back and forth back and forth back and forth back and forth. This was a bad idea. Yes, the Fentons had been cleared but it was still a bad idea. To be honest, he didn’t really want to think about the fact that his favorite employee had been searched by his family for suspicious behavior a month ago.

Yes. His favorite employee. Tucker Foley. Not just his favorite employee but the best one who had never turned in a report late or found a problem he couldn’t fix. Technically his name was Tucker Fenton but the name change wasn’t official yet. Polyamorous marriage was illegal so the family had to send in papers to change their names legally so they would share a last name with their children.

Tim had been eyeing Tucker since he met him which was honestly far too long after he had joined the company. He had been so busy that he had never actually seen the guy face to face until he happened to pass his office and saw the man dutifully typing away at his computer.

He remembered just how immediately he noticed the attractiveness of the man and at first was sad to hear he was in a relationship. He thought he was with a woman named Sam at first. And then a few weeks later he started seeing Danny in the office too. Tucker was poly. Had two partners. And two children with them. A family man.

Then his family started tracking them all and it gave him an excuse to hang around Tucker at the office as much as possible. Of course he only ever got normal vibes from the guy until he noticed some background tabs running on the PDA he used alongside the desktop the company provided.

Of course Tim found time during a date Danny and Tucker went on for lunch to snoop through it. The tabs were all mostly data except one that was in the process of breaking down a government firewall with a prewritten program. Some organization called the GIW. Tim looked through the rest of the computer. There were files on Tim and the rest of his family. Files on WE. Files on the company’s funding and where it all went. He had done his homework before taking the job clearly.

Of course it all looked suspicious at the time. But things had changed since then. Danny Fenton had sat Jason down and explained a lot of things. Who they were, why they were in Gotham. Who they used to be. It made alot of sense.

And it made sense why Danny readily shared the information so freely. After Tim found the files on the PDA, of course he hacked it and sent it over to Babs. After Jason made a fool of himself at the restaurant, the PDA started having files added to it. Of the Bats and the birds. And a very well written and polite file stating that Tucker knew his PDA was fucked with. The vigilante files were his way of telling everyone he knew who they were.

So the Tucker guy was fucking smart and didn’t really give two shits about computer privacy. Now any normal sane person would have found this very concerning but for Tim it only fueled the highly inappropriate crush he had begun to develop on the guy. How hot is it that the guy was cordial enough to write a file detailing that he knew they were watching him and that he was honored to have been hacked?

So… there Tim was in his office. Pacing. He was about to do the craziest shit. He was about to ask out the hot guy from the tech department. Was it a good idea? No. Absolutely not. This guy was about as crazy as he was. Oh but he liked that. He really fucking liked that. He also loved the tracker he found in his shirt after stopping into the guys office to give him some paperwork. It had taken him about a week and a half to find it and since Tim only had 3 shirts he wore to the office, he wore it around alot in that time.

After that, Tim left his own tracker in Tucker’s PDA only for Babs to find a new file on it that simply stated, “Found it.”

How fucking hot was that? He found it in no time even after Tim had taken the time to make sure it was inside the thing. Since then they had been placing trackers on one another whenever they passed, taking turns and making sure the other knew when they had found it. Tucker was always faster. He had yet to take longer than 24 hours to find it no matter where Tim hid it. It was like the hottest kind of flirting Tim could fucking imagine.

So… now that Tucker was cleared of any suspicion, he was free game. When Cass told everyone in the Batcave that the relationship was open to other partners, he nearly had to turn around in order to hide the excitement from his face. He kept his cool though, obviously, he was a professional.

He didn’t mind Tucker Fenton having other partners. He didn’t mind that he had kids. He wasn’t the only one either. He could tell that Cass was crushing hard on Sam and sure enough a week ago, the two of them were official. Now he just had to make his move and ask Tucker out. That was all.

Tim heard a ding on his phone. He looked to see who it was. Barbara.

Babs: New file just got saved to the Fenton PDA.

Tim’s heart raced. Tucker had probably found the tracker he had slid under his collar during their meeting that morning.

Babs: You two really need to bone, this is getting ridiculous.

Tim: WHAT DID THE FILE SAY BABS

Babs: I didn’t open it. The file is literally titled “For Tim Drake (if anyone else opens this I’ll make sure a virus melts your software)”

Hot.

Tim: Pull it up on my desktop.

Babs: On its way you sicko.

Tim rushed to his computer to see a file open on the screen. It was a google doc that Tim was given permission to edit. At first, the doc seemed blank but he knew Tucker well enough now that he knew that there was more to it.

He used his mouse and clicked Select All and sure enough, white writing appeared on the screen. He changed it to black so he could read it properly and he found a series of dashes and dots. Morse code.

Tim felt his heart rate rise at the little game. He had told Tucker in passing that he couldn’t read Morse code but he knew how to sit down and translate it if he wanted to. And the man was so perfect he had remembered.

Tim got out a piece of paper and started decoding the message that looked to be like a poem of sorts. It didn’t take long at all. It turned out to be a series of quotes from media and literature that Tim had at one point brought up enjoying in passing.

“All we can know is that we know nothing. And that is the height of human wisdom.”

“She had an evil face, smoothed by hypocrisy; but her manners were excellent.”

“Knowledge is power.”

“Memory is not what the heart desires. That is only a mirror.”

“Elementary, my dear Watson.”

“O Captain! My Captain!”

“Unless I be relieved by prayer, which pierces so, that it assaults mercy itself, and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardon'd be, let your indulgence set me free.”

“To die would be an awfully great adventure.”

Tim stared at the quotes knowing that there was more meaning to them. Knowing Tucker, there was probably a certain letter or word from each phrase he needed. He wasn’t provided with a key to solve it so it must have been pretty simple. Then he got it. And his heart raced.

He responded by calling his secretary to tell one Tucker Fenton (Foley) that he needed to send in in his schedule for the next week.

Not 20 minutes later did he see new writing on the google doc, “I’m free Friday night.” Who cared if it was a bad idea.

Tim smiled wide, texting Babs excitedly.

Tim: TELL B I CANT PATROL ON FRIDAY

Babs: Why?

Tim: IM GOING ON A DATE

Little did Tim know that the moment Barbara saw the message, she breathed a sigh of relief, “Fucking finally.”

…

Okay so here was the deal. After Danny had explained everything (including the pits actually being a core and the fact that Danny’s children were the de-aged results of cloning and timeline fuckery), he had started helping Jason stabilize his core. And Jason was thankful for that but at the same time… as more and more time went on spending his off moments with the guy, his core was acting all kinds of weird. He didn’t really know how to tell Danny about it because the last time he had tried to explain the weird pull and very odd pleased hum his core had whenever he was around Danny, the guy had waved it off as because he was the Ghost King and all that. Jason was trying to believe that was the case but now that he was in the Fenton household sitting across from Danny in his workshop… it was hard to ignore.

“Well Jason, you definitely look a lot better than a week ago,” Danny said while staring into Jason’s chest. He knew that it was because his core was supposedly around that area but with the fact that he was wearing a t shirt that had shrunk in the shitty dryer in his apartment, he was feeling a little exposed.

“That’s good,” he said clenching his fist to try and ignore the almost purring sensation his core made at the compliment.

“Just a few months and you’ve been reconstructing it really well,” Danny said continuing to stare.

Jason nodded, he had been trying to do the things Danny told him to, added pure ecto to his diet and tried being more open to listen to his core. Although most of the work had been done by Danny, placing his hands on Jason’s chest, shuffling his shattered core pieces around and trying to fit them back together. It had been a joke for a long time that he “came back wrong” but according to the literal Ghost King, it was actually fucking true.

Jason noticed Danny was still staring. His core buzzed, liking the attention. He had to try and distract himself.

“So I noticed when I came in it was awfully quiet. Normally Dante and Ellie meet me at the door,” he said, clenching his fist tighter. He had to change the subject.

Danny looked up from his chest, “Oh uh yeah. Sam and Cass are on a date and Tucker took the kids out to an escape room with Tim. So it’s uh… just us at home at the moment.”

Jason wasn’t as good at reading body language as Cass but he knew enough to know that Danny was acting stiff around him which he wasn’t used to since before they started his core reconstruction therapy.

“I get you all to myself then,” he said chuckling trying to be lighthearted. Was Jason normally this civil around other people? Fuck no. But with Danny… he really couldn’t help it. It honestly felt more like the old him before he died. Before he went all… murder psycho because he literally came back wrong.

He watched as the shorter man in front of him began to actually gain some color in his cheeks. Holy hell he didn’t know Danny was capable of that. He thought the dead guy look was a permanent thing. Jason kind of liked it though.

“I guess you do,” Danny said allowing a small smirk onto his face.

Oh. OH. Jason’s core really liked that. And it must have done one of those things where it told all the other dead people around because Danny’s smile grew wider. What Jason didn’t expect was feeling a mutual positive energy from Danny’s core in response.

Jason felt his own cheeks start to burn the slightest bit, not really knowing why.

“Actually Jason… I didn’t ask you here today just to check on your core. Or because I’m technically your king and I can,” Danny said.

Ah yeah that. Jason knew that because he was dead Danny was technically like, royalty to him. But it had never really clicked since he never acted all high and mighty like that whenever they were together. Which was a lot. But now that Danny mentioned it… he technically could have have power over Jason that he could use whenever he wanted.

His cheeks burned a bit more at that, his core reacting the same way it did before. He really needed to get more control over the sending out core vibes thing because Danny reacted to it again.

The Ghost King’s cheeks grew pink, “I didn’t know you were into that,” he said, leaning back in his chair, the motion causing light to reflect off of his hair like stars, “I wanted to talk to you because your core has been flirting with me non stop since we started your reconstruction therapy.”

Ah fuck. Jason knew Danny was hot but his core was really betraying him by telling him that.

He looked away, embarrassed. Admittedly, it wasn’t like the thought to flirt hadn’t ever crossed his mind. After Babs, with come help from Cass, really explained what polyamory was to him, he had entertained the idea once just to see what would happen but Jason very honestly didn’t know if he liked the idea himself or if it was just his core longing to be close to its king. Or at least that what he was telling himself

“Listen I’m not mad Jason,” Danny said. Jason felt cold fingers brush his cheek to turn his head to face the man. His body reacted the same way if always did when Danny touched his chest for reconstruction. Like a very pleasant bolt of lightning had stuck him, the buzz spreading throughout his body.

Jason knew Danny was a touchy kind of person and he had accepted that but god fucking damn it was still a lot of physical feeling from one touch that he wasn’t used to.

Jason had dated other guys before. He had been more than close and personal with a few. But touch was always a dull feeling when it came to anybody. Danny was the only person he could really… feel. Like back when he was alive. Every touch felt real and not disconnected. He could actually feel the pressure of a hand on his skin and the tingle of when skin brushed his own. It was… electrifying for the lack of a better term.

“I just want to talk about it,” Danny said.

Jason didn’t know how to talk. He didn’t even really know how he felt. He was running on pure instinct and LOTS of willpower to fight said instinct.

“Danny, I- don’t know how-,” Jason started, not really knowing how to communicate into words about it. Clearly he didn’t have to as he could tell his core had betrayed him again.

“It’s okay. I can talk. And if I say anything you don’t like or agree with, you can let me know. How’s that?” Danny asked. It was right about now Jason noticed that Danny hadn’t let go of his face and he was really close. His core liked that. And honestly, so did he. Jason didn’t mind staring into those big blue eyes for a bit. He nodded.

“I like you Jason,” Danny started. Jason’s core? Loved that. But Jason’s brain and probably his heart was waiting for the “but.”

“And so does my core. I think you are good for me,” Danny continued. There was no “but.” It made Jason’s innards do a fucking somersault into the splits.

“Wait you do?” Jason asked, studying Danny’s face. He was still blushing which was a good sign but sometimes you just need to be sure and double check you know?

Danny nodded, making Jason’s core buzz excitedly. Now up until this moment, Jason was very much repressing his own thoughts when it came to Danny. He was slow to catch up when it came to, well, feelings. Well let’s just say Jason was all caught up now. And his cheeks were burning as his lips curled into a smirk.

Jason felt a very strong core response from his king, full of flustered and dare he say lustful emotion that made his core and his chest burn with a desire to pull towards him.

Jason was no good with words. Terrible infact. And Danny knew that about him. So if he had any chance of communicating effectively, he had to take his foot off the brake and let his instinct do what it wanted.

“I’m about to do something stupid,” Jason warned. And then he pulled Danny closer into a kiss.

He felt Danny’s core purr in response as Jason’s lips felt like they were dancing on lightning. Everything felt right. He let his core say whatever the hell it wanted because it knew what to do. He just focused on how right right everything felt.

After they broke apart from the kiss, mostly because Jason needed air in a way Danny really didn’t, he locked eyes with the gorgeous man in front of him. Now that he wasn’t restraining himself, he was letting himself take in Danny’s beauty.

“Be my boyfriend,” Danny breathed, an icy sensation tickled Jason’s ear as Danny’s breath left the slightest bit of an icy fog in the air.

“Deal,” Jason responded, his breath catching up.

Jason’s body burned with sensation and he wondered if this was what being alive felt like and Danny pulled him into another deep kiss and hurriedly dragged him to a bedroom.

…

Extra:

Bruce at some point after all this: Where are all of my children?

Alfred: Well sir, almost half of them are at the Fenton household at the moment and the others…

Bruce didn’t even listen to the rest, he just sighed. He should have known. Fentons had that effect. He still remembered Jack from college.

[sistertotheknowitall]

Some guy gets arrested

Inspired by @medium-sized-ghost addition to the Original Post.

Masterpost

“So sorry about this, Mr. Wayne.”

“No, I understand. I’m just glad to see the law doing their job so well.” Bruce continues pleasantly through the police station with Commissioner Gordon leading the way.

“We’ll get this sorted out as soon as possible, but in the meantime you will need to unfortunately be placed in holding.”

“Of course. It’s really no problem, it was my mistake missing my court date like that. Time just gets away from me sometimes, you know?” Nevermind the fact that Bruce hadn’t even known about said court date or the speeding ticket it was for. He couldn’t prove which child had taken his car for a joy ride, but his prime suspects were Jason or Dick. (He would later find out that it was Stephanie upon a dare from Duke. He already attempted to banned them from playing Truth or Dare after Tim convinced Dick to do a handstand on Jason’s bike going 95 down the freeway. Not that Dick really needed any convincing.)

“Well you’re in luck, one cell is mostly empty.” It was a small cell closer to the front. Bruce could see a teenager laying on the bench to the right. Gordon opened the door and stood to the side so Bruce could enter and locked the door behind him. “Would you like anything to drink? Water? Coffee?”

Bruce smiled, “No, thank you.” Gordon nodded and looked past Bruce at the only other occupant in the cell, “What about you kid? Anything?”

Bruce watched as the kid, one he unfortunately recognized, lifted his arm from where it was thrown over his eyes and waved it in the air at the commissioner, “I’m good.” The arm went back down. Gordon grunted, “alright Officer Mitchell is keeping watch, call out if either of you need anything.”

With that Bruce was left alone with the boy who had befuddled and befriended his many children. He sat on the opposite bench and thought about how best to approach the young man. Danny had never responded well to Batman and there was no telling how he would respond to Bruce. According to Tim, Danny actually had some respect for Bruce and the money he dumped into bettering Gotham. (When it was announced that the public library was being renovated Danny had interrogated Tim about it and then offered his own opinions on how to involve more of the general population.)

Bruce didn’t think the time called for his “Brucie” persona and he couldn’t be Batman at the moment. He could approach the boy in a “fatherly” manner but that approach rarely worked on his own kids, he didn’t think it would work on this one.

“Have you called anyone?”

Danny looked out from under his arm and stared at Bruce suspiciously. In hindsight it was a creepy question.

Bruce brought his hands up and breathed a laugh, “I’m sorry, I meant have you been given your one phone call?” Danny didn’t move. “Why? You a lawyer?” He eyed Bruce in his nice suit and watch.

Bruce smiled at the boy, “goodness no, I don’t have the attention span for law school. I actually did pre-med before dropping out.”

Danny seemed too curl a little more into himself. It was the most cautious Bruce had ever seen him. He was locked in a Gotham police cell with a man in an expensive suit who seemed completely unconcerned about being arrested, it was wise on Danny’s part to be wary.

Bruce stuck out his hand, “Bruce Wayne.” Slowly, Danny sat up and crossed his arm scoffing, “why would Bruce Wayne be in a holding cell?” Bruce continued to smile at the kid and shrugged, his hand still in the air, “speeding ticket I’m afraid, missed my court date. I do have to say, though, the updated traffic cameras are a good investment by the police department.” “Wayne Enterprises payed for them.” “We did?” Bruce asked, knowing full well it was to give Oracle better camera footage. “You were at the press release.” “Huh.” Bruce looked thoughtful for a minute, “mm no, not ringing any bells. I go to so many of those press conferences, they just bleed together after a while.” “Mhm.” Danny still didn’t take the offered hand. Bruce sighed and let it drop back to his lap, “I’d offer to show you my ID but I don’t exactly have it on me.”

They sat and watched each other for a minute. Danny shifted and seemed to make a decision, “I work at a coffee shop and one of your sons is a regular.” Bruce slapped his thigh as if a light bulb suddenly went off, “You’re Danny! Tim’s mentioned you! You know he’s the only one with a weakness for caffeine, the others like to tease him but I don’t think he has an addiction. However, he does seem to spend a lot of time at that shop.” Bruce leaned forward as if confiding a secret, “to be honest, I think he has a bit of a crush on you.”

Dropping his own arms, Danny sighed. “Yeah, he’s not really that subtle.”

“No, I’m afraid he’s never been good at that. At least not when he’s interested in someone.” Tim was great at subtlety when it came to the mission but never in his personal life. The funny part was he didn’t even draw that distinction on purpose.

“I called a family friend. To answer your question. He should be here soon.” Bruce nodded, “so you do have people you can rely on in town?” “I could have a whole family I can rely on in this city.” Danny said, catching the older man's slip. He shifts further in his seat and stared hard at Bruce.

Bruce knew Danny had no one in town. He did the background check, Danny's whole family lived in Ohio with the exception of his older sister who was in one of the top psychology programs in the country. They seemed to visit each other often but rarely their parents.

The older man dawned an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, I assumed when you said ‘a family friend’.” Bruce leaned back against the wall behind him, “are you from Gotham?”

“No,” Danny shifted further back in his seat and didn’t take his eyes off Bruce.

It was different from how the boy interacted with Batman. To the billionaires alter ego Danny was defiant and outspoken. He always seemed to say what was on his mind, completely uncaring of the audience he had.

——-

“Mr. Fenton, your god-father is here for you.”

Danny never thought he’d feel this relieved to know Vlad was picking him up. While Mr. Wayne had been nothing but polite, something about the man felt off. Danny also didn’t appreciate the questions. What was it to this man if Danny had family near by or not?

One of the cops opens the door with Vlad in his nice suit and overly polished shoes right behind him.

“Daniel, let’s not make this a habit.”

“I was just feeding the homeless dogs!”

“Strays.” Vlad corrected, “while trespassing?”

Danny rolled his eyes and continued pass his “uncle”.

“How am I supposed to know an abandoned building is considered ‘private property’?”

Vlad just sighed.

——

Bonus:

Stephanie would continue to stick to her story, thank you very much. She had every right to punch the creep and she wasn’t backing down. Not even if “the creep” was apparently the son of a very influential prosecutor. A corrupt one, but he was influential nonetheless. Such is the justice system in Gotham.

Even if it landed her in a police station, handcuffed to a desk while said creep cried about the bloody nose she gave him.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, she crossed her legs and continued to glare at the door way that led to the holding cells. It was her night off and she still had to deal with this godforsaken city’s degenerate citizens. God forbid she have a day off.

It was while glaring at said door that Steph noticed a familiar boy walking out with a gentleman she wasn’t familiar with. He was a little behind Danny but reached out and grabbed his shoulder, stopping him just before leaving the hallway. Steph slid her gaze away but kept her ears open, grateful she was close enough to hear.

“You need to be more careful, Daniel.”

Danny didn’t respond and Steph looked over to see him pull his shoulder away and start walking again.

“You didn’t have to come all this way to bail me out. I could have called Jazz or Sam.”

“Nonsense, it’s good to get out of Wisconsin.”

Steph wrinkled her nose, Wisconsin? The pair continued out of ear shot and shortly out of the station.

When Bruce was released a few minutes later, Stephanie smiled and took great joy in his obvious (to any member of his family) despair and exasperation at seeing her.

Part 8

[curtis-brothers-hug]

Most of what Ponyboy says about girls strikes me as something he’s heard older boys say and he’s just repeating it even though he has no idea what it means.

“Married to some scatterbrained broad with no sense.” Wtf does that even mean? You cannot tell me Pony has a clue what he’s even talking about. It comes out of nowhere - there’s no other instance of him contemplating marriage, and the closest examples marriages or would-be marriages - his parents and Soda and Sandy - are nothing like that. That’s something he heard. “You don’t wanna end up married to some scatterbrained broad with no sense,” and he parrots it like it’s conventional wisdom.

Tim Shepard got his scar from a “tramp.” Even if Pony knows what a tramp is, that is not a word he uses in his own vocabulary. That’s the only time he ever uses that word, and it sounds like an echo of how Tim recounted it, or Curly.

“I thought about how nice it was to sit with a girl without having to listen to her swear or beat her off with a club.” That one’s a little more based on personal experience; he’s been around greaser girls and he finds Cherry different from them. But Ponyboy Curtis has never “beaten a girl off with a club.” Maybe he’s seen girls act aggressively toward older boys, but he himself has not had that experience. He’s pretty clear about having no real experience with girls. That’s another thing that sounds like something he’s heard, “I damn near had to beat off that broad with a club!”

Pony probably repeats things he hears about girls all the time. He’ll crack a joke about a girl, “must be her time of the month.” And Darry will turn and peer at him and be like, “you got any clue what that means?” And Pony puffs out his chest and tries to sound as tuff and jaded as the older boys when they talk about girls. “Pfff, yeah. Course. It means a broad’s bein all crazy.” “Mm hm. But what’s a month gotta do with it? What does ‘time of the month really mean?” And Pony’s just like “……..it means…..it’s cuz girls…….aw hell, Dally says it all the time! Why doncha ask him?”

[suzukiblu]

Day seven of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. Content warning: sub drop, unhealthy coping mechanisms. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Kon–told him to do that, he remembers. Told him to get “carried away”. Did he mess up, asking for that? Like when he asked for them both at once? Was that–? 

Bernard’s fingers scritch lightly at the base of his skull, just above his spine, and then he’s not . . . Bernard wouldn’t still be being so nice to him if he’d fucked up that bad, right? And Tim would tell him, if he was fucking up. He told him not to bite, before; told him it was okay to hold Bernard’s hand before, too. He–Tim tells him, when he’s fucking up. And Bernard barely knows him, so there’s no reason the guy would keep being so fucking nice if he wasn’t–wasn’t earning it, at least a little. 

Even if he kinda did fuck up, Bernard said–he said it was alright. Said it was–“good”, that he asked for . . . the “assist”, or . . . or whatever. So he didn’t fuck up that bad. 

Yet, at least. 

“Yeah, maybe a little bit,” Bernard says, sounding kinda amused, and then lets out a huff and curls his fingers against Kon’s spine in a way that is very hard to think past. “My bad too, sorry, I shoulda been lookin’ out for you two a little better. Like, spotting or something, you know?” 

“You don’t–” Tim starts, and then–hesitates, and pulls his knees up a bit, folding his arms on them and leaning on them a little. He’s still looking at Bernard, head half-turned towards him where it’s resting on his arms. Well–looking at both of them, maybe, but Kon doesn’t really know if he should think too much about that. “I didn’t ask you to.” 

“Well, you should’ve,” Bernard snorts. “Actually you both should’ve, but I’m cutting Kon more of a break because clearly whoever he learned to play from did not do a thorough job and I’m guessing he didn’t know, you know, what he didn’t know. We should probably buy the dude a book or something. Sign him up for a workshop, I dunno. And I should’ve been doing the looking-out whether you asked or not, so yeah, we all kinda collectively dropped the ball here.” 

“Mm,” Tim says. “Kon? Are you listening?” 

“Kinda,” Kon mumbles, though he can’t bring himself to lift his face out of Bernard’s shoulder or unwrap his arms or unravel his TTK from around him at all. Just . . . he really needs to be holding onto him, it feels like. Like he’ll just–fall right off the bed, otherwise. Fall right off his head, otherwise. 

“Are you okay to talk?” Tim asks gently, and Kon thinks about, like, having an entire mental breakdown over the gentle thing. Just–just he–“Just a little.” 

“‘Kay,” he mumbles, though maybe it comes out quieter this time, and maybe his TTK’s wrapped a little tighter around Bernard too. Bernard’s still petting him, so he doesn’t seem to mind. So . . . it’s fine, if Bernard doesn’t mind. And at least there’s not as much to fuck up there, if he fucks up there. Like–with Bernard, he means. 

“Do you need anything?” Tim asks. “Anything we can get for you. Or do for.” 

Kon needs to not be asked what he needs, when he’s the fuck-up who didn’t just–who couldn’t just trust that Tim wasn’t laughing at him, or thinking he was stupid or–he’s being stupid, so Tim should think he’s– 

Bernard slides a hand up the back of his head and nuzzles his temple again, and all Kon’s shitty, stupid thoughts stutter unsteadily, and don’t quite stop, but . . . but stutter, a little. Stop . . . building, a little. 

It feels–stupid, and too much, and not at all what he’s supposed to be like, but . . . 

But Tim–asked. And Kon doesn’t want to lie to him about . . . anything, really, but especially not with the way he feels right now. 

“S’not fair askin’ me that kinda thing, man. I’m just supposed to be a body,” he mutters roughly, and hates himself for even thinking, but–but it’s–but that’s all he ever was supposed to be, just a body, something for other people to control, to . . . that’s what he was made for, more than anything else he was made for. More than . . . than . . . 

It wasn’t fair when Tim asked him how long it’d been since he’s fucked somebody who really cared about him, either. 

“You’re not just a body to me,” Tim says, or Robin says. It sounds like both of him at once, somehow, or maybe Kon’s just stupid enough to think it does. 

“Yeah, whoever told you otherwise is clearly either a liar or just has shit judgement and therefore either way is not to be trusted,” Bernard agrees matter-of-factly, and says it lighter, and a lot easier to hear. Kon still can’t take the weight of any of it, though, especially not when–when– 

“You don't have to be so nice to me,” he chokes into Bernard’s shoulder as both of his own shake a little, as maybe a couple tears escape his screwed-shut eyes, because what the fuck is he gonna do when it's time to go back to normal and–and nice just isn't something he really gets even out of bed, because, like–why the fuck would he, he’s just this big loud stupid asshole musclehead who isn’t even good for anything but what his body can do–the powers, the strength, how he looks and how he fucks and what he’ll let other people use it all for–and he doesn’t even ask for–for fucking nice, he doesn’t fucking need it, just like he doesn’t need–need gentle, or–or for them to be so fucking careful, or to keep asking him his color or remembering his whole “no”s list or putting up with him being a total freak or–or– 

Kon doesn’t need it. It’s–when he gets it, it’s something rare and passing, not . . . not this much, not . . . 

He’d freaked out Cassie and embarrassed himself, when he got like this. And Cass–it’s basically never been more than a few hours snuck in between his day and her night, with Cass, and Greta was actually pretty fucking mean, and Anita and Cissie and Steph all just aren’t the type to waste time on that shit, really, and they weren’t even dating so like–so obviously he wasn’t gonna ask them to, for just a little fucking around, and Tana he was always the one who was trying to–to be–to–and Knockout was definitely–and there’s been a list of other girls as long as his fucking life, and the nice was never–never lasting, never– 

Lophi was nice, but also she’d cried about it. So like–it hadn’t really been him she’d been being nice to, he knows. But like–he’s used to people seeing someone else when they look at him anyway, so he hadn’t–minded, or . . . it hadn’t been him she was being nice to, so it hadn’t–mattered, if she was . . . if she . . . and Cass has just never stuck around that long, and . . . 

Kon’s not somebody who needs “nice”. So he doesn’t ask for it. Because he doesn’t need it, and anyway, what the fuck, like he didn’t learn from the times he was stupid enough to ask? And it never lasts anyway, and it’s never something he gets to keep. Like–that’s just not how it works. 

So that’s staying true to form here, he guesses, given this whole thing is just, like, some accidental kryptonite-ing and a long weekend and nothing else. But with how weird and stupid and sensitive he’s being right now . . . with all that . . . 

It feels worse to know it, with all that. Especially because he didn’t even ask, and Tim and Bernard just–did it. Just . . . like it was just something they’d just do. 

Like–a reflex, or whatever. 

[yasmindifference]

#4

wow why is it so big... ._. ... and jaytim pls :3

It's been snowing for three days straight, and Gotham has subsided into eerie silence.

That doesn't mean Jason's not patrolling, of course; it just means his patrols are a lot quieter than usual. It also means he's fucking freezing by the end of it, extra layers be damned.

On the bright side, the weather does make an excellent excuse for an extended stay at Tim's place. Someone's gotta make sure the spleenless wonder doesn't get taken out by a stray breeze, and who better than Jason?

That's his reasoning and he's sticking to it...not that anyone's asking. The Bats are too cold to even notice where Jason's spending the night, much less bother him about the whys.

And Tim, to his ever-pleasant surprise, never questions Jason's reason for showing up. He'll just pass him an extra plate of his dinner, or scoot over to make room for him on the couch, or enlist his help for whatever case he's working on, all without hesitation.

Or, like tonight--when Jason finds him already in bed--he lifts his (many) blankets in silent invitation.

A silent invitation that, after a quick change, Jason's more than happy to accept.

Snow is still falling outside the (one-way) glass that makes up two walls of Tim's penthouse suite, but inside it's toasty warm. Warm enough that Jason eschews the shirt he left here a while ago (freshly laundered since) in favor of just the sweatpants he's fairly certain he didn't. They don't look familiar, even though they're very much his size and stacked right next to his shirt on top of Tim's dresser.

Did Tim buy sweatpants specifically for him?

Jason's not gonna question it--too afraid the answer's no--but it's a nice thought.

He slides into bed next to Tim and is immediately pinned down when Tim eels on top of him and latches on tight.

"You're cold," he says with an unhappy little noise...but he very noticeably doesn't loosen his grip at all.

Jason rolls his eyes. "Yeah, it's like ten below, if you hadn't noticed."

"Mm." Tim somehow manages to hug him tighter. "You're the last one in tonight. Even Bruce called it early."

Jason slips his hands under Tim's shirt to warm them against his back. It'd take a better man than him not to enjoy how Tim squirms against him in response.

"Did Bruce call it, or did he get dragged?" he asks idly.

"There may have been force involved," Tim acknowledges.

That said, he yawns and tucks his face in the curve of Jason's neck.

"You made me wait forever," he adds grumpily.

Not that Jason would admit it (and good thing no one's here to call him on it), but that warms him more than the blankets and Tim's body heat combined.

Tim was waiting for him. Jason didn't find him buried in a pile of blankets reading on his tablet after a long patrol because he couldn't sleep, he found him like this because Tim was staying awake until he got here.

He keeps thinking this thing of theirs is uncertain, but...it's not, really. Every time he turns around, Tim's showing him, again and again, how welcome he is.

Maybe he really doesn't need an excuse.

So he doesn't bother coming up with one before he kisses Tim's hair--and, as usual, Tim doesn't ask. He just smiles into Jason's neck and kisses it in return.

"Night," he murmurs.

"Goodnight," Jason says, and with Tim on top of him--Tim trusting him--Tim wanting him--it really is.

Prompt #4 was snuggling beneath the covers! Well chosen! ♡♡

[moonstruckme]

Glad your back love! I have a request if that’s alright. Remus and reader going on a bookstore date and lunch or something!! That would be so cute. Imagine how excited both of them would be picking out books and being affectionate. Just a lot of fluff and cuteness. Thanks sweetness hope you enjoyed your break!

Thanks for requesting sweetness!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re feeling a bit guilty about the teas you’ve snuck in, but if there are two people who can be trusted around books, it’s you and Remus. He takes a careful sip as he leans in to skim the titles, sticking one hand in the pocket of his pants. 

“Island of Love,” he reads, amusement lilting his tone. “Original.” 

“I think I’ve actually read some of that author’s stuff,” you say. 

Remus quirks a brow at you interestedly, hand coming out of his pocket to pull the novel from the shelf. “Let’s see, a summer wedding, the groom’s brother and bride’s maid of honor hate each other, but—oh, he’s frustratingly attractive…and something about passionate summer heat.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “Wonder what that could be alluding to.” 

“Alright.” You steal the book from him, slotting back into its space. “I never said this stuff was, like, literature to be studied at Oxford. If you’re going to disrespect my section, run along to yours.” 

“Fairly sure it’s considered rude to abandon your date,” he muses. “What’s my section, by the way?”

“Depressing stuff.” 

“Oh?” 

“Mhm.” You take a sip of your own tea, trying not to fluster under his attention. You scan the shelves idly for a distraction. “It’s all rather doom and gloom. Very well-written doom and gloom, to be fair, but I’m not always looking to have my life changed. This stuff is fun, at least.” 

“I see,” he hums. “Oh, this looks familiar.” 

You turn to see him holding up the shiny new version of the worn and waterstained paperback that rests perpetually on your nightstand at home. 

“How do you know about that?” you ask him. 

Remus smiles. Your heart flutters. “It was on the coffee table when I was over last week. Are you rereading it?” 

“Yeah.” You shrug, turning your eyes away from him. “I reread it a lot, it’s my favorite.” 

“Mm, I noticed it looked fairly battered.” 

“Well-loved,” you correct him. 

He chuckles quietly, and you grin because you can’t help it. “Right, so sorry. My mistake.” 

You brush a piece of hair out of your face, slotting it behind your ear. Watch Remus’ eyes track the movement. “So what’s your battered book?” 

“Hm?” 

“Your favorite,” you clarify. “The book that’s all war torn and full of nonsensical annotations.”

He thinks for a minute. “I’m not sure,” he admits. “I have a few I go back and forth between, but lately it’s been The Secret History.” 

You have to cover your mouth with a hand to hide the full breadth of your smile, and Remus narrows his eyes at you. 

“What?” he asks.

“That book is so depressing.” You shake your head, delighted at being so right. “I mean, it’s beautifully written,” you amend. “Really gorgeous. I’m just not sure I found the plot as compelling as the prose.” 

His mouth actually drops open. You can’t tell how much of the shock is teasing and how much is real. “You thought that book had no plot?” 

“No, I mean, plenty happened.” You turn to face him, forgetting about the books around you for a moment to focus on this one. “But I felt like it happened so slowly, and there was so much in between that was just tons of description. It was like they almost skimmed over the murder part! There were so many plotlines that were brought in and then just disappeared, though I guess I can respect the ways in which it reflected real life.”

You think for a second that Remus might argue with you (he should, really—it’s his favorite book and you’re slandering it), but he keeps his mouth shut, watching you interestedly. 

“And don’t you think Richard was a bit passive? Henry and Bunny had so much going on, but the narrator could have literally been a fly on the wall the whole time. He kind of reminds me of Nick Carroway, you know?” 

“From the Great Gastby?” He tilts his head, eyes squinting a bit (it’s devastatingly cute). “How’s that?” 

“Just, they’re both such flat characters.” You frown. “I don’t really think either of them needed to be in the story at all. I mean, having a narrator that’s a character with no personality is effectively the same as having a non-omniscient third-person narrator, right?” 

Remus is biting the inside corner of his lips like he’s trying not to smile. “Right.” 

“What?”

“I’m just thinking that I need to get you talking about books more often,” he says. And that’s real affection in his eyes, mixed in with the humor. 

You look down, grinning at the front of your shirt, but his little smile doesn’t waver. 

“Shouldn’t be hard,” you say. An awkward, obvious sidestep of the compliment, but he lets you get away with it. “Your turn. Let’s go to your section.” 

He shrugs. “If you think you can stand it,” he says, but starts moving in that direction. You notice he’s still holding the copy of your favorite book. 

“Aren’t you going to put that back?” 

“No.” He doesn’t need to look down to know what you’re talking about. “You’ve already torn one of my choice novels to shreds, now it’s my turn to read yours.” 

A little bite of nervousness snips behind your belly button even as his sidelong look lets you know he’s only joking. “You could always borrow mine.” 

Remus blinks. “I’m flattered that you’d trust me with it,” he says, and it almost has you blushing again, that he knows the significance of you offering him your copy, “but I think I’ll read the un-annotated version first. But if the offer still stands after I’m finished, I’d love to read your thoughts on it.” 

He says it like it’s nothing. Like taking the time to read your favorite book twice, just so he can get to know you more thoroughly, isn’t the sweetest thing anyone’s ever so much as thought of doing for you. You worry that if you look down, your heart will be glowing right through your shirt.

“Alright.” You muster your courage, taking him by the hand. “But now we also have to find one to read together.” 

Remus has looked down at your joined hands, something like shyness coloring his expression, but he looks up to quirk an eyebrow at you. “Are you so sure we’ll be able to find something we can agree upon?” 

“So long as it involves a main character that actually does something, I think we can manage.”

[rhilumi]

I desperately need timber as BBC sherlock and Watson (or sherlock and co with darcy like mariana) I need more tim who acts like sherlock either way.

Bernard gains the psychosomatic limp from the cult. Or maybe like a psychosomatic heartburn???? The near miss really messes him up even though robin was there to save him.

Tim doesn't actually have the insane deduction skills sherlock does but what he does have is a wealth of information and insane detective skills. Instead of working stuff out on the spot like sherlock does he makes it his business to know everything about everyone so it appears like he does. (Doesn't mean he doesn't still have a high level of deduction jts just not on par)

Anyway bernard is freshly out of the cult and kicked out of his house with nowhere to go and little to no money. He's sat on the edge of a rooftop. He's not going to do anything (so he tells himself) he just likes the wind. But either way nightwing is here now.

"I'm not going to do anything"

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"You just looked like you needed company."

Bernard doesn't respond.

"You got anywhere to go after this?"

"I'm 17"

"Same age as my brother."

Bernard silently grips onto his shirt.

"Listen, kid, I don't know you but I could probably get you a place to stay."

"I'm not the best roommate. "

"You're the second person who's said that to me today."

--

And that's how bernard ended up in Gotham marina with Timothy Drake (now Drake-Wayne) his former best friend who just ditched him when darla- laura- died.

"Long time no see"

"Mm. Listen we don't have to do this- my older brother is very annoying just thinks I shouldn't be living on my own."

"No- I need a place. And uh, no offense but doesn't the Wayne fortune mean you could afford something better than this"

"I like the challenge. And no offense but how did you end up in a cult- a pain cult of all things. Something tells me that it wasn't entirely curiosity or psychosis"

"Not something I want to talk about. Timmy."

"That heartburn is entirely psychosomatic by the way. Sorry for the personal question I needed to make sure and now I am."

"And how are you sure?"

"You started grasping at your chest when I started talking about the cult. Oh and I can tell your brain is working overdrive right now so answers:

1. My brother doesn't want me living alone because he thinks I have a tendency to run myself into the ground. I don't.

2. I can tell you were in a cult from the way you hold yourself, you're afraid of a very specific size and build of person, luckily not mine so if I have to have a roommate he's not afraid of me. Pain cult because of the myriad of deliberate self inflicted or otherwise scars. The psychosis was a shot in the dark based on what I previously knew of you but your reaction tells me I was correct.

And finally I'm acting so differently to how you knew me because I'm desperately trying to get you to dislike me so I can live on my own without someone watching over me."

"Fucking hell."

"Anyway! Want to go in?"

--

I keep rotating them in my head. Bernard with psychosis headcanon delightfully taken from @littlepikmins .

I may write more but that relies on motivation and I severely lack that.

This is also entirely self indulgent lol

[peonysgreenhouse]

-`♡´- silent archives.

summary: mistletoe kisses. (gn!reader x jonathan sims, martin blackwood, tim stoker, sasha james, and elias bouchard + helen/peony)

tags: kissies, fluff, helen distortion x my oc (peony) for funsies :], happy holidays everyone!!! <3

The stairs down to the Archives are narrow, dimly lit; you watch your feet over the stack of manila folders in your hands to make sure you don’t miss a step. You can hear the buzz of the old fluorescents, the clean smell of linen and parchment of the upper floors making way to something less pleasant and dusty; like the smell of a page starting to yellow. 

You’re a step behind them, elbows tucked close to your body, trying to avoid the cobwebs woven between the wall and the handrail. No matter how many times you had dusted the place, come morning the webs would be spun anew. Whatever spiders made their homes down here were winning the war of attrition. 

You stop when you reach the bottom step, lingering by the entryway to continue your discussion about… something that slips from your mind the moment you look up. Taped clumsily to the top of the entryway, tied with a small red bow is a fistful of mistletoe. 

Their gaze follows your own upward, and…

-`♡´- jonathan sims

...And Jon scoffs.

“Tim put this up, I presume?” Jon says dryly, readjusting his glasses. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world but here.

“Dunno. I haven’t seen him today.” You say, adjusting the files in your hands. “Sooo…”

Jon lets out a breath, then rubs at the bridge of his nose, under his glasses. This close, you think you spot a few more greys that weren’t there the last time you saw him. “Tell him to take it down, if you see him. I’d rather not have people… fraternizing in the Archives.”

If he didn’t sound so tired, you might’ve laughed. “Right. But, uh, just so I don’t get cursed, do you mind if I…” You shift the files to one hand, and reach your free hand up to point at your cheek. 

“If you really believe such a superstition, I question if this job has affected your discernment.” Jon rubs his hand over his own cheek, as if contemplating. After a moment, he sighs again. “Fine. You can…” He makes a vague gesture, then turns his head closer to your own. 

You hesitate for a moment, finding the sight of your boss waiting expectantly almost… cute. You lean over and press a kiss to his cheek; soft lips against rough stubble. 

“...You’re ridiculous.” He says, reluctantly fond. For a moment, he looks like he might say something else. Instead, he settles on: “Get back to work.”

-`♡´- martin blackwood

...And Martin’s eyes go as wide as saucers.

“Oh, uh, I wonder who put that there.” Martin coughs into his fist anxiously, then rubs his hands together as if to soothe.

“I wonder.” You say playfully, though you have an idea of who the culprit was. 

“We don’t have to… do anything, that is if you don’t want to.” Martin scratches his neck anxiously, playing with the baby hairs on the nape of his neck. The action is almost performative in its cuteness. “It’s just a silly tradition…” He laughs sheepishly. 

“And if I want to participate in this silly tradition?” You respond, stepping just a bit closer, the edges of the manila folders in your hands tapping against his chest. “...With you?”

“Oh!” He nearly squeaks out. You don’t ever think you’ve seen him quite so speechless. “Oh, that would… That is to say… I would…” Martin groans, seemingly annoyed at his own inability to speak clearly. Then he leans down, pressing his lips to your temple, a sweet display of affection.

You lean into his lips, almost chasing them as he pulls away. “That was nice. I almost want another.”

“Ah, well, I’d be… happy to provide.” Martin visibly brightens. “Just… Maybe not in the Archives? I’d hate to have Jon walk out, and uh…”

You laugh, picturing Jon’s exasperated expression. He’d probably send Martin away for good if he had to see that. And you as well, for good measure. “Mm, after work then? Maybe we could get drinks?”

“Yes!” He says, over eager, then he adds, “I mean, yes… That sounds lovely.”

-`♡´- tim stoker

...And Tim gets the goofiest grin on his face.

“Well, well…” He wiggles his eyebrows, sounding overly amused with himself. “Look what we have here.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, but you can’t deny his attitude was infectious. “...Really?”

“Don’t give me that look. I certainly didn’t put that up there.” He holds up his hands, the picture of innocence. “But I’m certainly not complaining that I was caught underneath it with my gorgeous co-worker and best friend. Perhaps this is… destiny.”

“You’re so dramatic.” You respond, playfully dry. Still, you can hardly even pretend to be annoyed at him. “C’mere.” You lean up and press a lingering kiss to his cheek. He smells like something clean and floral, and his skin warms underneath your lips.

When you pull back, he touches the spot you just kissed, as if to chase the slowly fading feeling of your lips against his skin. The corners of his eyes crinkle as his smile turns almost sheepish.

“Do I get to return the favor?” He asks, cheekily, his hand brushing against your shoulder as he steps closer, encroaching in on your space. Not that you really mind.

“I’m waiting.” You say, and Tim doesn’t wait a second after getting your permission. He grabs your cheeks in his hand, his lips kissing the side of your mouth with an unnecessarily loud smacking sound. You can’t help but laugh as he pulls back, his hands still cradling your face, unable to look away. 

“Maybe one more for good measure, yeah?” His thumb strokes down your cheekbone. “Maybe it’ll make us extra lucky.”

“Excellent idea.” You say, already moving in to kiss him – proper, this time. 

-`♡´- sasha james

…And Sasha gasps, playfully scandalized.

“My, my…” She says. “A real predicament we’ve gotten ourselves into, hm?”

The look in her eyes makes you nervous; like she’s expecting something, and she’d hate for you to disappoint her. Or perhaps that’s your own projection – she’s so close, and so beautiful. Your arms tighten around the files you’re holding.

“Seems like it.” You respond, the words more confident than you feel. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to…”

“I’m well aware.” Sasha laughs, and for a moment it looks like she might tease you further. You can feel your cheeks warm. “But lucky for you, I think you look quite adorable right now.”

Sasha moves in closer, and you close the gap, your lips meeting her own. How could you ever forget the gentle way her lips move against yours? Soft, sticky; her lip gloss tastes like peppermint, and it makes your mouth tingle. When you pull back, her hand is covering her mouth as she laughs.

“You have a little…” Her hand comes forward, and wipes her smudged gloss off of your lips. It feels almost as nice as the kiss itself.

-`♡´- elias bouchard

...And Elias looks at you, unreadable as always.

“Ah.” He tuts. “I suppose this was someone’s idea of a prank?”

Just your luck to be the first victim. And just your luck to be caught underneath it with Elias. You pretend to have not noticed, looking up again after he poses his question.

“Oh. That…” You lie, rather lamely. “I’m not sure, I haven’t seen it until now.”

“I see.” He pauses, and you shift your feet, the silence growing uncomfortable as he watches you. 

“Would you… like me to take it down?” You ask, moving to make yourself useful. Before you can get too far away, he speaks up. 

“No, no. It’s just harmless fun.” He makes a dismissive gesture, and you visibly relax. You don’t want to think about how ridiculous you would look balancing on an office chair trying to take the mistletoe down. “Might… improve morale down here, as it is.”

“I’m surprised you’re alright with it.” You say, giving him a sideways look. “Sounds like a HR problem waiting to happen.”

Elias laughs at that. "I assure you it will be fine.” He pauses, then. “It would only be inappropriate if someone like me initiated, so to speak.” Elias looks down at you, the ghost of a smile on his lips. His words are suggestive, challenging almost. Before you can lose your nerve, you lean over and kiss his cheek.

“So… that’s alright, then?” You ask. The scent of his expensive cologne follows you, even as you pull away.

“Precisely.” Elias says, sounding pleased with himself, pleased with you. "Though, if you'd like a little... reciprocation, I recommend we go back to my office."

You can't find it in you to say no.

-`♡´- helen/peony

Helen is the one holding the little bundle of mistletoe over Peony’s head, a sharp-toothed grin on her face.

“Look what I found, darling.” Helen says, shaking the plant overhead, as if Peony didn’t see her approach with it. It looks comically small in Helen's unnaturally large hands. “This does bring back memories, doesn’t it?”

“Those memories aren’t yours.” Peony corrects, moving past Helen to her desk. When she sets the stack of folders down, Helen is leaning over Peony’s shoulder, boxing her in.

“Spoilsport.” Helen tuts, feigning disappointment that she’s not playing along. “I don’t want to argue semantics with you again. I’m in a good mood, after all.” 

Peony turns, looking up at Helen; Helen’s features shift ever so slightly the more she focuses on certain points of the Distortion’s face. Sometimes she looks like the Helen Peony remembers; or perhaps Peony is just searching too hard for something that was never there. Still, she can’t help but look every time. 

“Did you come here just for…” Peony motions to the mistletoe, still held out in Helen’s palm. 

“Is it so wrong to want some affection from my favorite person?” Helen says, sweet as honey. “I get lonely too, you know.”

It’s so ridiculous Peony almost laughs, like it wasn’t the Distortion’s fault for Peony’s own loneliness. 

Still, the Archives were much too quiet nowadays. Peony aches for the familiar comfort of another, and she’ll take it even if it’s from something as cold and inhuman as Helen. Peony’s eyes flick down to Helen’s lips. Yes, they almost looked the same. Would they taste the same as her Helen’s once did?

“...You just want a kiss?” Peony asks, quietly. Helen narrows her eyes, looking far too pleased with herself. Peony can almost hear the sound of metal teeth snapping shut.

“If that’s what you’re willing to give me, darling.” She bends down, her face just above Peony’s. Peony doesn’t give herself any time to think this through, instead moving forward, pushing her lips against Helen’s in a slow, tentative kiss. Peony feels one of Helen's fingers run down her back, sharp, even through layers of clothes, and she shivers.

With Peony's eyes closed, it was easy to pretend that this is a stolen moment of normalcy; for a moment, she's back in her Helen's house, pressed up against her on the couch as they wind down from their long work days.

"...Now, was that so hard?" Helen muses, and Peony's eyes flutter open. Peony touches her lips, feeling her smudged chapstick, and she sighs.

Peony leans in for a second kiss.

[caotictimmy]

Since Cass is hesitant to talk to reader first what would she do if reader talked to her first? Honestly I could see them both liking ballet since madoka had that one promo art where she did ballet. Also do any of the fam notice readers little notes or do they just ignore those too?

1.AHHH thinking about it I think they would have a really good dynamic if they did talk to each other. Cassandra would easily be a bit shocked that you’ve come up to her. I imagine that she would be studying a video of ballet in the living room or sm,trying to study the movements so she could try and replicate it herself, but they definitely would get along really well. Though you guys know I don’t like seeing you to happy! So just like Duke she’ll try her best to be there for reader, but will be too busy lolz. Before we get into this I wanna let you guys know I have almost no knowledge about ballet so this is prob not gonna be the best. Low-key just pulling stuff out of my ass for this one🙏

2. Well they all have different interactions with if. People like Alfred, Duke, Stephanie, and Cassandra see them and really appreciate them. Duke has a little scrape book you made him and he’ll keep the personal sticky notes you make him in there (Can you guys tell I might favor Duke). Bruce, Jason and Damien ignore them. All for different reasons but still the same outcome. Last but not least, Tim and dick just don’t even see them. It comical. There could be many all along the walls and they wouldn’t even notice. Still MM!reader continues writing these positive messages with the cute doodles to accompany them.

Cassandra’s eyes narrowed as she kept replaying this one specific part of the video. She often would watch ballet videos to study the dances for herself. As she was focused on the video she suddenly heard someone’s voice.

“Hey could I join you? I love ballet” You asked, swaging as you nervously wait for her response. She looked back to see you standing behind the couch. “Yeah” She quietly mutters. It was clear she was surprised to see you talking to her. She scotched a bit over, gently patting the seat next to her.

She couldn’t help smile herself as she sees you grin brightly. You quickly scramble over the couch. She laughs as she watches you stumble trying to get over her back of the couch. You quickly sit up. You’re not trying to make yourself look like a bigger foul. You two sir in silence for a bit. Simply watching the memorizing movements of the beautiful dancers.

You then spoke up, “Hey I think this is the same choreography my ballet group did our last contest.” You fondly mumble. Your eyes still glued to the screen. “Wait you do ballet? Why haven’t you told us?” She asked a bit baffled. Cassandra kept her gaze on you, clearly waiting for a response. “Well I mean.. I do but no one really attends.” You say gazing everywhere except for her. “W-which is ok I get you guys are busy! And Duke always tries to come when he can so I’m not always there by myself.” You quietly gasped out, trying to keep the mood cheerful.

“Hey when is your next contest?” Cassandra asked, feeling horrible for not even knowing you did ballet, “My next contest is in two weeks.” You mumbled. Playing with your hands to distract yourself from the awkward situation. “I promise you I’ll come to the next contest.” She smiled. “Really!! I mean oh yeah thank you.” You tried to sound nonchalet at the end, but it was clear that you were excited. “Yeah” she softly said.

Authors note: I’m genuinely really surprised seeing ppl so interested in my series. You guys don’t know how happy it makes me seeing other people love my concept. Reminder that my request are always open and I would love to talk more about MM! Reader:3

[bonezaw]

Sleepy TMA Headcannons (Because I'm Sleepy)

Martin: He snores, mumbles, AND drools. John doesn't really mind, but has occasionally woken up to a quiet "john hi hello..mm I love youuu" or a distraught "NOOoo don't you take my sandwhich..."

John: Sleeps with his eyes open. Along with this, he has the tendency to mumble out coherent sentences. Some of these have been: "have a seat", "what did you say your name was?", or: "this is great, but unfortunately, I appear to be asleep" (Martin ended up putting that one on a magnet).

Sasha: Punches and kicks in her sleep. After hearing this, Tim would always ask "Punch yourself awake again, huh?" whenever she came in tired.

Tim: Cries in his sleep. Along with that, he has been known to sleepwalk. Once, he woke up to find an entire omelette sitting in front of him. He doesn't know where it came from, and he's still haunted by that.

Daisy: She doesn't like to admit this, but she'll frequently wake up from dreams in which she's chasing someone to find she had been running in her sleep. This also has the added bonus of launching everything off her bed.

Basira: Cannot stay still. She must rotate every thirty minutes, much like a turkey. Maybe that's just because she likes to sleep on the floor, though.

Melanie: MUST fall asleep to music. That, or some variety of nature white noise. She also frequently rolls off her bed.

Elias: Sleeps like a log. Nothing could wake that man up, not even an actual flood. That did happen once, and yep, you guessed it: He somehow slept through it.

[onismdaydream]

sweet like candy (ft. satoru gojo)

tags: mdni. 18+. afab reader. slight sub gojo. handjob. slight bondage (restricted wrists). pet names. makeshift gag (underwear). reader is kinda mean. not proofread.

notes: happy valentine's day?? idk this was a dumb thought that got longer than i expected! i also didnt feel like going through and editing lol hope you like it anyways :3 reblogs/comments are very much appreciated!

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

it's funny, really, how quickly satoru gojo folds underneath you.

he loves to be an asshole, thrives on the attention it gets him. he's never been one to keep his mouth shut and everyone knows it. so sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands.

he doesn't mind, not one bit, when you make him sit on a chair and bind his wrists behind the back. it's not the best knot but it'll suffice — especially if he knows what's good for him. there's that smug little smirk that often makes its home on satoru's pretty face.

"what's this, angel? do i get a prize?" still so cocky... you'll have to fix that. your hands gently slide up his abdomen, starting from his firm stomach and resting at his pecs. his shirt rises with the movement and you can feel the way his body tenses slightly as his breath hitches. if it was anyone else, they might not have noticed it, but you did. despite the way he parades around, he's all bark and no bite. he crumbles as soon as you so much as lay a finger on him.

you hum softly, a dismissive sound. "something like that." sliding his shirt the rest on the way up so it sits above his collarbone, your fingers graze over his sensitive nipples, already beginning to harden from the cool air and your touch.

"should've stripped me first," satoru breathes out a chuckle. "gonna be hard to do when i'm tied up."

you don't respond, instead you keep your gaze on his exposed skin. there's faint red scratches that contrast nicely with his pale complexion — a reminder of the previous night. your nails had dug into his chest as you rode him, little crescent moons that morphed into long and narrow wounds when satoru desperately bucked his hips further into you.

"c'mon, baby," the white haired sorcerer looks up at you with that ridiculously pretty smile, something akin to mischief sparkling in his equally ridiculously pretty eyes. "don't make me wait."

you flatten your hands on his chest, squeezing the firm muscles of his pecs. if gojo was watching your expression, he might've kept his mouth shut.

"like what you see?"

"i'd like it better if it was quieter," you retort, your gaze flicking up and catching his own. satoru's face falters for a moment — his eyes widening and smile dropping — from the unexpected words, but he quickly recovers. he loved playing this game as much as you did.

"aw, don't be like that. you know you love me." that shit-eating grin makes its way to his lips, his perfect teeth catching the low light of the room.

one of your hands reaches down, palming at the bulge in his sweatpants, the other one resting on his waist. he was half hard already. though satoru's pretty much always hard at a moment's notice when it came to you. a low and quiet groan leaves the back of his throat, your palm putting much appreciated pressure on him. "mm, i suppose i do."

even with the layer of fabric in between his cock and your hand, you could feel it kick and throb as you touched him, soft noises of pleasuring slipping past his lips.

"yeahhh," satoru sighs, his head falling back as you pull him out and finally get your hands on him. "just like that, baby."

you knew satoru like no other, knew him like the back of your own hand. he didn't have to guide you on what to do because you were already doing it. drooling on his cock and mixing your saliva with his precum for makeshift lube to make the glide of your fist even better, stroking him nice and slow, using just the right amount of pressure so that it teeters on painful — you picked these things up naturally as you spent more and more time with gojo.

but that meant that he was constantly babbling, too. equal amounts of praise and curses, satoru could never shut his mouth.

"fuuuck, angel, no one's as good as you. always feels so fuckin' good." his hips buck up when your thumb teases over his slit, smearing more of his pearly precum around his sensitive tip.

he's vaguely aware of when you slip your other hand underneath your skirt, but he's too caught up in the feeling of your hot tongue licking up the underside of his shaft, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. "shit, baby."

too caught up to realize that you're not touching yourself, instead, you're sliding off your underwear. and the next time he opens his mouth, you take the opportunity to shove them on his tongue. gojo's eyes shoot open, piercing blue focusing on your smirking face.

"you talk too much," you say simply, pushing the soft panties further in his mouth, making him gag, the sound muffled. not giving him time to adjust, your pace on his cock picks up, your strokes becoming tougher and sloppier.

satoru whines around the fabric, his own drool pooling at the corners of his lips as he's forced to taste and smell you. it's intoxicating, really. he should feel dirty and gross as your used panties sit on top of his tongue, but he doesn't. it's almost as if his head is buried in your cunt, the sweet and distinct arousal that is undeniably you suffocating his senses. not quite as strong and certainly not as good as actually having his head between your thighs, but almost.

he can feel the knot in his stomach getting tighter, your lips around his tip and hands on his shaft working him closer and closer to the edge, until he finally falls.

you pull away from his cock, letting the ropes of cum hit against his flexing stomach, mixing with the faint trail of white hair. his cock kicks as you work him through his orgasm, a stifled cry emanating from the sorcerer.

your panties are absolutely and thoroughly soaked when you remove them from satoru's mouth. he opens and closes his jaw a few times, stretching it out and regaining feeling in the area.

"could'a told me to stop talking," he grumbles, though his lips quirk up just the slightest amount. he's not ready to admit it — yet, at least — but he enjoyed that a lot more than he thought.

you laugh softly, a stark contrast to how you were just mere moments ago. "where's the fun in that, toru?"

[dcartcorner]

a fantasy/dnd au because i can't help myself and the thought of ancient blue dragon simon who disguises himself as a human brings me joy.

please enjoy this small one shot ft. s1 adventuring crew (please excuse any errors, writing is not my strong suit!)

Rumours at the Tavern Characters: Tim, Simon, Sasha, Martin, Jon Ships: none

It wasn’t what Tim would consider a nice tavern. He had performed in nicer ones, ones where the counters were meticulously cleaned and the patrons were at least passably polite to the serving staff, and a mug of ale would set you back a silver piece. This place was not quite like that.

Then again, Tim had been to worse sorts of dives.

The Lazy Storm sat right smack in the middle of the two kinds of taverns, perched on the cliff side overlooking the choppy seas of the western coast, amidst the fjords in the town of Killn’s Rest. Not a bad place, not a good place. Just a place, somewhere to  find some warmth, a quick meal, and something to drink. It was also the sort of tavern that didn’t take fire hazards all that seriously, if the number of people making merry that evening within its walls was any indication of the owner’s outlook on safety. It was busy, to the point where crowds spilled out onto the street even though the summer had come to a close and the winter, with its biting chill, was fast approaching.

Perhaps that’s why Tim noticed him - the old man. Because he was sitting on the bar top. 

There were few other seats around. Sasha had managed to charm their way to a table of their own earlier in the night while Martin tried to see about rooms, and their party had stayed planted at said table all night as the crowds slowly but surely filtered in for the evening. They were lucky, in this regard, as many other people were forced to stand shoulder to shoulder. Not that old man, though. Perched on the edge of the bar like a bird, smiling kindly at the person next to him.

And his choice of seat was not the only peculiar thing about him, Tim thought. He wore clothing that Tim could only describe as ornate. If this was one of those nice taverns Tim had played in, he might have expected that sort of the look, but this wasn’t one of those places. This was the Lazy Storm, and that man was incredibly overdressed. 

“It’s weird, right?” Tim said aloud. Martin looked up, then glanced around. Sasha craned her neck to look at him. Jon didn’t look up from his book. Tim nodded in the direction of the old man. “Someone dressed like that in a place like this. That’s odd, isn’t it?”

“Not really,” Sasha shrugged.

“Where?” Martin asked.

“Good on him, getting dressed up to go out for a night,” said Sasha. 

“I think it’s weird,” said Tim. Because it was. 

“Where?” Martin asked again. “Oh. Him? I mean. I suppose it’s… well, it’s a little odd.” The twist of a frown at the corners of Martin’s mouth. “Someone should offer him a seat.”

“Seems happy enough where he is,” Sasha said with a huff of a laugh as the other man at the bar leaned closer to the old man and whispered something to him. 

“Could we please focus,” Jon finally interjected, shutting the book. 

Tim rolled his eyes as he took a swig of his drink. It wasn’t silver coin ale. This was a copper-piece-per-tankard-ale, and it tasted like it. Which was to say, it tasted like a good night in the making.

“Have any of you actually asked anyone about any jobs yet?” Jon said.

“Asked just about as many people as you,” Tim said. By this, Tim meant: none. 

“There’s a rat problem in the sewers,” Sasha said, “according to one guard. Doesn’t pay well, but at least it pays.”

“There are bandits, too,” Martin added. “Uh, just out east of here. Somewhere. Apparently they have a den in the woods? But I think someone might’ve already taken that one.”

“Mm.” Jon was not impressed. He looked over at Tim. “Anything?”

Tim raised his hands. “Don’t look at me, I can get a job whenever.” Plenty of people out there who were willing to pay for some good music. “Or did you forget who bought the rooms and drinks?”

Jon leaned his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands momentarily. Then looked up at Tim and said, “Could you please just. Ask.”

“Jon, maybe we should just… take a night off?” Martin suggested. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing…”

Jon shot him a look and that was the end of that conversation.

Well, didn’t matter. Jon didn’t have to join them in having a good night if he didn’t want to. Tim wasn’t going to let it bother him, and he got up to go order another drink with his own hard earned money, ignoring how much lighter his coin purse was compared to earlier that day.

Why was it his problem anyway, that they didn’t have much in the way of coin? He wasn’t going to let it get to him. It wasn’t getting to him. He and Sasha and Martin were just some poor souls dragged along on Jon’s pointless quest to find some answers that had nothing to do with any of them. So why did it matter?

It didn’t matter.

Dammit. 

The old man was not the first person he asked that night about a job. As he waited for a drink he asked the person to his left and to his right, but neither of them were keen on talking - and it took him a little too long to realize they were part of their own adventuring party based on the matching bands on their arms, and wouldn’t be sharing any information with him. He tried to ask the bartender as well, but she was too busy to give him any answer that was not a look of inconvenience. 

Tim sighed. And he kept asking, until finally his route around the tavern brought him to the old man at the bar. Sat there, dressed strangely, looking for all the world like he should be just about anywhere else. 

“Are you quite alright?” the old man asked him. Tim blinked. “Not that I mind, but I’ve been told it’s rude to stare.”

Had he been staring? “Sorry,” Tim said. The old man smiled at him.

“Something I can do for you?” the old man asked. 

Tim looked around briefly. The other person with whom the old man had been speaking earlier that night was gone. “Don’t suppose there is,” Tim said. “Unless you know of any get rich quick jobs around this place.”

The old man chuckled. “Well now, I can think of a few, but I’m not entirely sure those are the type you’re looking for,” he said, resting his hands on the head of his cane which he had propped up on the empty edge of one of the bar-stools. “Tough times, out there. Or so I hear. Something about the supply and demand of it all, I think. Too many adventurers, too few problems that need solving! At least around these parts.” The old man sighed thoughtfully. “This coast isn’t what it used to be. Time was you couldn’t take two steps on the road without running into bandits or cultists or a proper mountain troll. Now you’d be lucky to find a good sized rat nest to clean up.”

“Yeah, well. Killing rats doesn’t pay well,” Tim said. 

The old man smiled, watching Tim over the rim of his glasses. His eyes were sharply blue, Tim noticed. “No,” the man agreed. “No it doesn’t.” He tilted his head. “Terribly sorry, but I’m afraid you’ll have to go further afield to find anything.”

“Thanks anyway,” Tim said, defeated. 

“Although,” the old man said as Tim was turning away. Tim paused and looked back at him. “I’ve heard a rumour. There have been a few ships that have come into the harbour with some particularly strange news out of the Shivering Straight. Up north. Word is there have been a handful of whaling ships that have gone missing around Helkelson Bay. Only a couple of survivors. Those that do manage to best the frostbite say… well. You know how sailors can be, always creating the most fanciful stories. A ghost ship, they say! The mayor of Helkelson isn’t altogether convinced it’s anything so peculiar as that, though I hear he’s offering a handsome reward to anyone willing to… solve the problem. Whatever that problem may be.”

“Helkelson?” Tim said. 

“That’s right,” the old man replied with a smile. “Ask around the docks, I’d say. Plenty of merchant ships coming and going that way. Of course, it’s only a rumour.”

Tim smiled back. “Better than nothing.”

It was at that moment the old man’s companion returned and gave Tim a wary look. Tim took it as his cue to leave with a nod of thanks and an imaginary tip of the hat before he returned to the table to join his companions. 

“Let me start,” he said to them, “by saying you’re welcome. Now, any of you been to the Shivering Straight?”

[mamawasatesttube]

for the prompt thing, what about #15 with tim?

15. "My mom used to do that."

A hand smooths gently over his hair, warm fingers stroking strands back from Tim's clammy forehead. It hurts, his... his... everything, but the gentle touch helps.

"Robbie?" A soft voice. Familiar, though he can't place it. "You awake?"

Robbie is him. Right. God, his head hurts. "Nngh."

"Shhh." The hand caresses his cheek. It’s warm. Tim presses into it, groaning. “You took a pretty bad hit. Stay still. Don’t force yourself.”

“Whuh?” Tim vaguely remembers a battle. There was some… rogue magician. Colorful beams and lights. Something.

“Psychic blast from a drunk wizard.” It’s nice that the voice attached to the warm hand knows what he was trying to ask. Tim sighs, turning his face further into his pillow. It’s a little firmer than pillows should be, but it’s warm, at least. He’s cold. And his head hurts.

“S’a stupid way t’get bonked,” Tim mumbles.

The voice chuckles warmly, and finally a name slots into place. Kon. That’s Kon, petting his hair. He’s… oh, he’s lying on the ground, his head on Kon’s thigh. That’s why he feels safe despite getting walloped.

“Don’t worry. I’m in the stupid bonking boat, too. Sucks to be vulnerable to magic, huh?” Kon’s fingers twine gently through his hair, and his fingertips scrunch gently against Tim’s scalp. That feels so nice against the pain. “Bart ‘n’ Cassie are handling it.”

“Mm.” Tim honestly doesn’t really care about the wizard. He’s still kind of struggling to put two and two together, and he hurts all over. Kon’s hand in his hair is nice, though. “…Tired.”

Kon coos sympathetically. “Yeah, not surprised. Rest. I’ll be here.” He scrunches his fingers tenderly through Tim’s hair again, and Tim sighs.

For a few minutes, they sit in silence. When Tim briefly opens his eyes, he catches sight of the edge of the rooftop, and beyond it the city skyline stretching out into the distance. And Kon, the wind riffling through his curls, gazing up at the stars.

He keeps stroking through Tim’s hair. It’s soothing. Tim closes his eyes again and drifts, letting his tired, battered body take a breather. He feels almost like a kid again, limp and exhausted and safe in the knowledge that someone else will take care of him.

Kon’s hand stills for a moment. Tim whines.

Kon chuckles softly. “Sorry,” he murmurs, and starts carding through Tim’s hair again. Tim curls into his side, pressing his face into his hip. It reminds him of a hazy, distant memory, one he nearly forgot.

“…My mom used to do that,” he mumbles, his fingers curling into Kon’s jacket. “When I was little. If I was sick. She’d…” He wiggles his fingers, his exhausted equivalent to flapping a hand at Kon’s hand in his hair.

“Oh.” Kon’s voice is soft. He tugs Tim’s cape up and over him, covers Tim in it like it’s a blanket to ward off the night chill. “D’you want me to stop…?”

“Nnh.” Tim presses into his touch. He feels safe. “S’nice.”

“Oh,” Kon murmurs again. Tim can hear the smile in his voice. “You got it.”

[mechs-headcanons]

my headcannons for everyone's mobility aids that I can think off off of the top of my head and other things I'm too tired to think:

Nastya: Blue cane, transparent, sparkles in the light. She has similar looking crutches, but also sometimes the Aurora just helps her along with her cables (the best mobility aid. trust me.) She also has alot of braces

Jonny: The Dr House cane. He probably has a cheap shitty wheelchair somewhere that he got because he refuses to accept that he actually is in that much pain that often and only really uses it to try and hit Nastya with.

Ivy: Crutches, but they have pouches attached to them to carry books. Probably forearm crutches, but the elbow ones. I think they'd either be plain black all over, or they'd be red and gold to match her asethtic. (She uses them very rarely though, only if her brain is refusing to let her use her legs at all. I feel like it's obvious I project on Ivy sometimes.)

Tim: Cane. I love the headcannons of Tim being the most fashionable on the Aurora(or one of them.), so he has an entire collection of canes. Ones got dragons on it:) (he also gets back pain.) or a plain white cane if his eyes don't want to work that day.

Ashes: Cane but also maybe a wheelchair. I think they'd have problems with balance and keeping their breath, and also, the lungs have got to be so heavy that's got to take it out of them.

Marius: Crutches. I think this should be made canon. He loses his kneecaps all the time (which same here, that's basically the same as constantly semi dislocating your knees trust me am doktor:D.) it would make sense for him to struggle with balance and have to need to use them more often than the other mechs. He's also probably a ambulatory wheelchair user because of this too. His crutches are almost definitely covered with stickers though. (Ivy probably has matching pouches with him so he can carry her books too.)

Brian: Cane, crutches and a wheelchair on occasion. If his entire body and brain was remade, there's no way there's not going to be chronic pain, or issues with signals. His canes probably an old man wooden one, his crutches are probably the cheap £30 ones you can get from Amazon and his wheelchairs probably Jonny's when it's not being used. All in all bloody hell Brian you can get better equipment.

I think they definitely have it all semi? Scattered about, but I also think each person stores their aids in specific locations. Like Marius's crutches are always nearby him as he's an almost full time user, whereas you could realistically say that Jonny ate his cane and I wouldn't shrug. The most common place for mobility aids though would probably be the bedrooms or in the main living/common room. Or the kitchens. Or if your name is Dr Baron Marius Von Raum in the mouth of an octokitten.

-🪿

ouh reading:0 my brain is SLIGHTLY fried from all the asks so excuse me if this is incoherent. i’m gonna go through these and then add the people you missed :}

nastya: yes. give her a sparkly cane/crutches. i also do like that the idea that the aurora helps her around:} she probably also has knee pillows for when she’s fixing stuff and she has to be on her knees or crawling for long periods of time.

jonny: his cane is probably also set to the wrong height cause no one taught him how to use it right and he refuses to change it when someone points out it’s wrong. i bet he only uses the wheelchair if someone pushes it for him cause he’s dramatic like that /lh

ivy: mm yeah :D she probably doesnt use a wheelchair because she gets antsy sitting for too long :} i think when her brain doesnt let her use her legs, it feels sorta like when your foot falls asleep but on her whole leg and for a longer period of time.

tim: definitely. he matches his cane to whatever colour eyes he picked that day cause he’s coordinated like that. when his eyes malfunction i think he doesn’t have any in at all (cause i think of his mechanism sort of like a prosthetic) cause it’s irritating when he has non-working eyes in. also the coloured bits and the actual mechanism are separate:D

ashes: wheelchair ashes mm, they definitely have a decked out one with stickers and like a fire decal over the wheels. they dont use it much on the ship unless they’re having a bad fatigue day, only when they’re going long distances on a planet so they don’t get tired.

marius: crutches marius<33 i bet his armpits are bruised/have issues cause of his crutches but he refuses to admit that it’s an issues. (i do trust you, you are a doktor /silly). even when his kneecaps aren’t missing, i bet they’re loose and click/shift/lock up quite a lot (i’m projecting cause that’s what happens to me) love the book bag on his wheelchair for ivy omg yes :} his wheelchair is the nicest in the crew’s cause he uses it quite a lot

brian: i bet all of brian’s aids are second hand but he doesn’t want to get new ones cause in his words “if it aint broke, dont fix it” (it is broke, and it does need to be fixed). brian also regularly disappears into dark corners of the aurora when he gets migraines because he refuses to admit he’s in pain. i think the only think of his that isn’t second hand is a hip brace that raphaella forced him to get :}

OK now for the guys you missed oh geez i’ve been writing for three years (or so it feels like /silly)

raphaella: i think she’d have back pain from her wings, cause they’re metal and really heavy. she probably has a special back brace so she doesn’t screw her whole spine up. she also has some knee pain but doesn’t use a cane for it, just some more braces.

TS: ok ik it’s literally made of wood but like let me have joy and make it disabled, it’s my favourite,,, i think it’s joints rub together, especially in it’s hands and ankles because the joints there are smaller (arthritis ✨✨). i also think it’s joints lock up. it wears compression gloves and socks :} it also uses a cane, not cause it needs it but because it wants to fit in :D

i think that’s everyone,,,

[district4loading]

Thoughts on sana being the type to ask her partner to “kiss it better”

Cooking with Sana is a challenge.

Not because she's bad at cooking or difficult to manage. It's cause she's so distracting in only the best way possible. You always find yourself stealing kisses from her, hugging her or doing anything else for just a little bit of physical affection.

She just looks so cute with her hair put up with her cute little glasses and her little apron. Just so adorable.

This time you're baking croissants together out of boredom. Yes, baking out of boredom. When she brought it up--especially on her day off--you wondered if she'd been hit on the head cause who'd want to stand and bake for hours when relaxing was the better option obviously.

However, like she always did, she managed to get you in the kitchen with her once again.

At this point you've already made the dough. Of course, since you're the stronger one she made you knead it and flatten it out. So now her part is just to cut it in somewhat equal triangular shapes.

She was doing okay when you made the poor decision to sneak up behind her and snake your arms around her waist without knowing what angle she was holding the knife at. When you hear a high pitched yelp escape her lips, you think nothing of it because you assume she's just surprised but when you hear the knife drop on the counter and her frustrated whine, "Babe!" You realize somethings wrong.

So you hum and look over her shoulder just to see that her fingers bleeding. It's bleeding a lot so you're not sure if the cut is big or not, all you know is that it's on the side of her index finger. "I'm so sorry" You back away from her as she turns to face you, holding the wounded hand tightly in her other. You quickly reach over to grab a paper towel, noticing that her bottom lip is poking out.

Still adorable.

"Here, let me see" You take her hand out of hers and press the paper towel on her hands. "Come" You say, leading her to the bathroom where you can clean it and bandage it for her. Not only cause you feel bad but also why on earth would you make her do it herself?

She sits on the edge of the bathtub as she watches you grab the alcohol and the band-aid "It hurts" She pouts, giving you what might just be a death stare.

"I know babe" You sigh "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to" You apologize again because it feels like you can't express just how sorry you are.

You bring it to her and you drop to one knee in front of her, pouring the alcohol onto a cotton ball "I just wanna know what you were thinking to grab me like that when I was literally holding a knife"

"Well" You pause for a moment, hearing her wince when the alcohol connects with the cut "I just couldn't resist you, if anything you should've been more careful because you know I like to get touchy when we cook together"

It's only a joke and Sana knows it but she still glares at you all the same, watching as you snicker a bit. She can't hold up her act though, she ends up laughing with you but not too much. "asshole" She mutters underneath her breath.

You wrap the bandage around her finger "There, all good now?"

Sana pauses for a moment and shakes her head "mm-mm"

"What? Does it still hurt?" She nods, still not giving you a verbal answer "Well what do you want me to do about it?"

"Kiss it better" She puts her hand out in front of you. She has a big smile on her face when she says it and you can tell she's not joking at all. You don't have to think twice about it though, you take her hand into yours and you press your lips against it. You make eye contact with her, noticing that her eyes are still expecting "Go ahead, don't stop till I tell you to"

Now you're smiling and you can't help it as you kiss her finger a ridiculous amount of times.

You're maybe on your 20th kiss when she finally says that you can stop. "Feel better?" Sana pretends to think a bit and then she nods "So shall we get back to the croissants?"

"We shall, but you'll be the one cutting this time" You give her a look as she stands up "I'll be there, with my arms wrapped around you and my head on your shoulder while you do it"

"You know what, I like the idea of that... just don't make me cut myself" you warn.

Sana smiles "That's rich coming from you"

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A/N: Good morning, afternoon or night wherever you are. If its morning, how about you start your day with some cute sana fluff?