#fic on ao3

[poke-me-with-a-stick]

Chapter 26 of 'Artificial Wingman!'

For the full story on Ao3, click Here!

Enjoy!

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Danny hissed as the wire he was soldering zapped him. His fingers healed almost immediately, just the lightest pink any indication that he had been hurt, but the electricity flowed up his arm, making his litchenberg ache. He rubbed his arm before tuning it out, turning back to the gun with an annoyed grumble.

Seconds later the same thing happened again, making the halfa hiss again. His core stuttered at the feeling, making an uneasy warbling sound as the current spread slightly further up his arm. The teen brought his fingers to his mouth, blowing cool air on the tingling appendages. Once they were sufficiently numb, he went back to work.

The wire he was soldering buzzed threateningly as he melded it to it's proper circuit. Finally, the darned thing stopped, it's excess electricity funneling into the board. New wires lit up, popping small sparks as energy flowed through. One such wire right under Danny's wrist, hitting directly on the edge of his death scar.

The teen couldn't stop himself from jerking away with a loud yelp, practically falling out of his seat as he cursed under his breath. "Fuck!" He muttered, rubbing his wrist. His arm tensed and twitched as he tried to massage the pain from it, fingers spasming as his scar buzzed. It took a few minutes for the feeling to pass, and a few longer to flex the soreness out of his fingers. When he could comfortably make a fist again, he turned and leveled a glare at the damned scientific abomination.

His glare faltered after a second, his shoulders drooping in exhausted defeat. "Why couldn't Mom and Dad have been, like, dentists or something?" He questioned quietly. Danny would rather have lectures on proper dental hygiene than have to deal with this. Sighing, he sat back down and pulled the gun towards him again. 'Better just to get it fixed.'

From across the room, Robin stood up from where he had been leaning against the wall. The teen stalk across the space separating them, coming to a stop just in front of Danny. The halfa took his eyes off of his work to look up at him, being careful to rest his hands decidedly away from the live wires. ". . .You good?" Danny asked after a minute of nothing but Robin's intense, searching stare.

Robin stayed silent, giving Danny no warning as he carefully pushed the gun away. Before Danny could ask what he was doing, the teen grabbed his wrist and pulled him up, all but dragging him from the room. It was Danny's turn to be quiet, though his silence was more because of shock and less because of... whatever was up with Robin.

Danny decides that it's too much trouble to try and form a coherent question. Instead, he just lets Robin lead him down the hall, turning and coming to a stop at a closed door. Robin knocks, then takes a step back and waits. Jason opens the door moments later, leaning against the frame as his eyes rake over the two of them.

"What's up, brat?" He asks, his gaze meeting Danny's over Robin's shoulder, conveying a silent question of 'What's this about?'. In response, the teen shrugs, sending back an 'I have no clue,' look. Jason rolls his eyes slightly before focusing his attention back on Robin. "Did you need something?"

"Danny needs to take a break." Robin states bluntly. Danny lets out a protesting "Hey!", but is ignored by the brothers in front of him. "I merely intended to let you know that we are going out. So that you do not worry needlessly about us being gone." With his piece said, Robin began to turn away.

"Hold it, Hell spawn." Jason stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "You just gonna run around in your suit?" When Robin didn't immediately respond, the man shook his head. "Come on, demon brat. I'll give you a change of clothes. It's a miracle that the bat brigade hasn't already tracked us down yet." He dipped back into the room, leaving the door open as he searched around for something for Robin to wear. "Speakin' of which, did you turn off all the trackers in your suit or something?"

"No, I haven't touched any of the trackers." Robin told him through the door. He tugged Danny closer, his thumb feathering over the pulse point of his wrist. Danny let out a sigh at the action, the rhythmic motions chasing the last bit of pain away. "In fact, I had a rather odd experience with my comms earlier this week. They were filled with static when I attempted to use them to contact Oracle. When I was unable to get through to her, I had to retrieve one of the spares from the safe-house." Jason hummed as he returned, clothes in hand.

"You think the same might have happened to your tracker?" He asked as he handed the clothes over. Robin had to drop Danny's hand to take them, and Danny tried not to pay attention to the sad whirring noise his core made in response.

Instead, he turned his attention back to the conversation. "Oh, that? It was probably me." He admitted a bit sheepishly. They both stopped and turned to look at him. When they didn't say anything, he began to ramble. "So, uh. It's kinda a ghost thing? Ecto beings and extremely contaminated liminals tend to radiate ecotplasm, which messes with electronics and, well, technology in general. So, it might be my fault that some things aren't working right?" He let out a nervous laugh, his hand coming up to massage the back of his neck.

Robin was the first to break the silence. "That does make sense." He admitted. "It would explain why we had such a difficult time tracking the Joker's location when you were taken, and why your sister had such an easy time of it finding you when she gave it a try." Behind him, Jason gave a nod, accepting the explanation given, before letting out a laugh.

"Ah, no one in this family ever dates a normal person, do they?" He snorts again before stepping out into the hall and letting Robin into the room.

"Hey!" Danny groaned in fake indignation. "You already knew that I was Spook-tacularly abnormal before this!" Both brothers froze for a minute before groaning themselves at his amazing (horrible) pun.

Reaching out, Jason plants a heavy hand on Danny's head to violently ruffle his already messy hair, electing a yelp from the teen. He laughed as Danny swatted his hand away, pushing the teen slightly so that he stumbled back a step. "We need to keep you and Dick-face as far apart as possible. If you two meet, we're all doomed."

Danny opened his mouth to retort, planning on saying something about this Dick guy having great taste in wit, but was cut off as Robin swung the door open again and stepped out. Turning, he gave the teen's new outfit a look. An old band tee that was slightly too big, a pair of worn jeans that bunched slightly around his calves, a pair of sneakers, and the sunglasses that Danny had gotten for him. All in all, it fits perfectly with the 'average teenager' theme that they're going for.

"Where did you get the sunglasses?" Jason asked, looking the teen over as well. Robin didn't respond to him, instead grabbing Danny's wrist again and leading him to the stairwell. "Be safe you two!" He called after them, "I'm serious! If you get into any trouble, bat related or otherwise, give me a damn call!" Danny glanced back at Jason as he was pulled along, waving at the man as he rounded the corner. The teen couldn't help but smirk at the exasperated look on the man's face as they disappeared from view.

Danny didn't speak as Robin led him down the stairs and through the parking garage. He was content to follow the teen as they continued on, coming out of a maintenance tunnel and stepping into the street. Weak sunlight broke through the ever-present smog, warming the two of them as they walked. It was only when they were about half a mile into this walk that Danny finally broke the silence.

"So, where are we headed?" He asked. Robin stopped abruptly at his question, causing him to bump into the teen's back. "Oof- Robin? Hey, what's-" Danny looked around for what could have made the teen freeze, until something gave him a pause. He looked back at the teen, who was now staring pensively at the ground. A bashful yet thoughtful look on his face. "Oh, I know that look." Of course he knew that look. It was the one Jazz, Sam, Tucker and Dani always described when he did something impulsively. "You didn't plan that far ahead, did you?"

When Robin didn't respond right away, Danny couldn't help but to chuckle. "Glad I'm not the only one who makes split-second decisions." He jokes, smiling at the teen. His smile slowly falls when all Robin does is flinch and frown. "Hey," Danny starts, his playful tone dropping into something more gentle. "It's fine, Robin. I wouldn't mind just wandering around for a few hours." He felt a blush threaten his face as he let a small, mischievous smile tug at his lips. "Especially when I'm wandering around with such amazing company as you."

The cheesy line did the trick, just as Danny was hoping it would. Robin's frown evened out, his expression going back to that look of resting apathy that it usually was, but Danny had spent the past week with him. He could see the slight blush, the way the corners of his lips twitched ever so slightly. He didn't say anything, but Danny could tell that he was pleased, at the very least.

They started walking again, though at a more sedate pace than before. They passed stores, apartments, small vendors, not stopping once but enjoying the calm atmosphere of the city during mid-day. The pair kept away from any alleyway's, though. Just because the city seemed peaceful out in the open, that didn't mean that there weren't crooks and robbers hiding out in the shadow-y, secluded places.

Sometime during their stroll, Robin had loosened his grip on Danny's wrist, his hand trailing down the halfa's arm until their palms were touching. This time, Danny didn't ignore the way his core buzzed and purred at the contact, instead basking in the warm feeling it sent resonating through his chest when their fingers intertwined.

Eventually the two had to come to a stop, their stomachs demanding they find somewhere to eat. The solution to that problem was relatively easy, as they only had to backtrack a little bit to find someplace decent. A Bat Burger seemed to be calling them from across the street, the smell of fast food wafting from the door as it swung closed behind a couple.

Ordering and settling at a booth was a relatively simple affair, and soon they were sitting across from each other once again. Neither of them spoke, neither of them really needed to. Both of them were just relaxed, reveling in each other's presences. They hadn't really left each other's sides since the love potion took effect, excluding certain pesky clowns of course, but something about this time was different than all the time they had spent together before. 'It might be that I'm finally not ignoring everything I feel now,' Danny thought, a smile crossing his face again as he stared at Robing from the corner of his eye.

"Thank you." He said it quietly, but Robin heard him nonetheless.

"For what?" Robin asked, his head tilting to the side.

'Cute,' Danny couldn't help the thought. "For pulling me out of my own head. I can kinda take after my parents when it comes to projects. Especially important ones. My friends and Jazz usually have a hard time convincing me to take a break, so it's kinda nice to have someone not afraid to yank me out by my foot." He chuckles, his hand raising to rub his neck again.

Robin catches it before it makes contact. Bringing it across the table, he places a gentle kiss on the knuckles before setting their interlaced hands down on the tabletop. Danny fights his blush as Robin smirks at him. "You'll find that I am more than capable of interrupting, should it be necessary for you to take a break." Quieter, he mumbled "I's not like I haven't had plenty of practice with Drake and his horrible habits."

Danny perked up, his blush fading as he focused on something else. "Who's Drake?" He asked.

Robin froze for only a second before responding. "Drake is one of my adopted brothers." He admits. "He has the same habit of delving deep into a topic and completely forgetting about the world around him. It takes the whole family to keep him from dying of his own ignorance to his body's demands." The irritation in his tone is tempered by a small amount of fondness, and Danny can't help but to smile knowingly at him.

"Is he really that bad?"

"Yes. Out of all of my siblings, the most self-care rules have been put in place because of Drake. Not that they're followed half the time, but the evidence does speak for itself." He huffed, letting his chin lower to rest on his arm. "If not for our family, Drake would have long since worked himself into the grave."

Danny smirked, sitting up straighter. "You just made a pun!" He accused, his smirk widening into a smile at the look that crossed the other teen's face.

"I did no such thing." He denied, sitting up as well.

"You so did!" Danny giggled, rubbing his thumb across Robin's knuckle. "Don't worry, I won't tell." He winked at Robin, before looking away. "But, back to your brother. That sounds tough."

Robin sighed, but let it go. "Yes, forcing Drake to take proper care of himself can be a very demanding job at times. But, sadly, he's family. And as such, it is my 'moral' obligation to make sure he doesn't perish."

"Yikes. That sounds like a soul-sucking job." Danny tried to tease.

It fell flat when Robin looked him dead in the eye and nodded. "That statement is more true that any of my family would care to admit." Danny choked, his mind wildly trying to think of how to backtrack. Then Robin cracked a small smile, a light and airy laugh leaving him, and Danny knew he had been played.

"Your evil," He grumbles half-heartedly at the vigilante, fighting back a small smirk of his own.

"Trust me," Robin's smile turned slightly devious. "I can be a Lot worse."

Their order was called before Danny could even try to snark back, 'Flirt back? Was Robin flirting with him?', and Robin disentangled his hand from Danny's quickly, hurrying off to get their food before Danny could protest. Leaving said teen to deal with the blush that now encompassed his entire face.

By the time the teen made it back with their food, Danny had managed to wrestle his blush from a full cherry red to a warm pink. Thankfully, Robin didn't mention it, instead just pushing Danny's meal towards him and digging into his own. Danny followed in suite, pulling the wrapper from his burger taking a bite.

They two teens ate in silence, content with the cozy, comfortable atmosphere that surrounded them. But they were only half-way through their meal when the quiet was broken, but not by either of them. A hand slammed down on the table between them, startling both teens. Pausing mid-bite, Danny turned and looked at the hand, before following it up to it's owner's face. Unsurprisingly, it was someone Danny didn't recognize. But a quick glance at Robin made Danny certain that he knew who this was.

"What are you doing here?" The teen growled. 'Yep,' Danny looked between the two, growing wary at how tense Robin had become as he glared at the... Man? He looked a bit young, but he wasn't exactly a teenager, either. Danny was gonna go with guy, then. 'He definitely knows him.'

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Why haven't you come home in the past week, or checked in with us at all? Do you know how stressed everyone has been, searching for you?" The guy crossed his arms, glaring down at Robin with that 'Your doing something stupid and annoying' look. Honestly, it was kinda eerie to see that look on someone besides a teacher. "You need to come home, and at least explain what the hell is going on with you."

Robin didn't respond, which seemed to annoy the guy. He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Seriously?" He asked, one hand falling to rest on his hip. "You're just going to ignore me?" Danny glanced at Robin from the corner of his eye and, sure enough, the teen was staring resolutely at the table as he munched on a fry. By all accounts, it seemed like the teen was ignoring the dude.

Danny knew it was an act when Robin caught his eye, tilting his head ever so slightly down. Danny followed, looking down at his hand. The vigilante lifted three fingers briefly, before letting his hand rest on the table, all his fingers flattening out except for one, which he scrunched up almost like he was pointing. But why was he pointing at the table? Was he pointing at the table? Or maybe...

A small tap, so quiet that for a moment Danny thought that he had imagined it. A few seconds later, another tap. It was only when he heard the third tap that he put it all together. Thinking fast, Danny ducked under the table just as Robin surged up from his seat, is fist making contact with the guy's solar plexus with a meaty thump. Danny couldn't help but wince in sympathy as the dude dropped to the floor with a wheezy gasp, but he didn't bother to check on the guy either. Instead, he slid out from under the table, snagging his burger as Robin grabbed his wrist. In seconds they were out the door and across the street, sprinting around the corner.

From behind them, Danny could hear the man stumble out of the Bat Burger, calling after them. "Wait! Damn it, come back!" He yelled. Danny was forced to bring his attention away from the man as Robin took a hard left. The teen yelped as he was pulled into the alleyway and behind a dumpster. His nose wrinkled at the awful smell, but before he could complain, Robin slapped a hand across his mouth. Danny glared grumpily at the teen, but Robin merely pointed towards the mouth of the alley.

Danny watched as the man ran past them, a strange sort of pride bubbling in his core when he heard the wheezy breaths of the dude ass he passed them. Secretly, he wondered if he could get Robin to use that move on him, one day. Immediately, Danny shook the thought from his head. 'This is no time for those kinds of thoughts,' he told himself.

Both of them stayed crouched down there for a bit, just until they were sure that the guy wasn't coming back. Only when the guy's footsteps had faded from Danny's enhanced hearing, did they deem it safe to venture back out. The halfa couldn't stop his sigh of relief to be away from the trash, taking a deep breath to clear his nose.

The walk back to the parking garage was just as quiet as before, but defiantly more tense. Robin kept to side streets, ducking away from lights and sidewalks that seemed crowded. Honestly, after the last time they were out and about, Danny couldn't really blame him for that one. It took way longer to get back, But Danny didn't complain.

In turn Robin didn't protest the way Danny kept close to him, practically back to chest. Occasionally, their shoulders would bump, or their arms would brush, and it took every bit of self-control he had not to grab Robin's hand. Not that the teen would have minded, with the state he was in, but Danny knew this wasn't the right time for that kind of thing. Not when they were trying to get back without being followed, and defiantly not when he was still trying to sort through his own feelings himself.

By the time they made it back, the sun was casting it's last rays on the city's clouded horizon, turning them various shades of purple and red. Once back at the top of the stairwell, Robin split from him, probably to tell Jaosn about what had happened. Danny stood there for a moment, before heading towards the living room. Settling back down, he gazed at the portal gun's tangled wires with a fresh set of eyes.

His gaze flittered over the circuits and plating, freezing on something he hadn't noticed before. There, hidden by a mass of tangled cables, was a little button. An OFF button. Groaning, he slapped his forehead before reaching out and pressing it. With a click and a beep, the wires made one last spluttering spark before falling dormant. "Of course," he scoffed, half bitter and half exasperated. "Why do my parents have the bad habit of putting an off switch in the worst possible place?" He asked the space around him. Only the silence answered him back.

Shaking himself, Danny sighed and focused on the now safe wires, getting back to work. Now that they weren't zapping him every five seconds, he might actually be able to make better progress with it.

- - -

Tim hissed as he shifted the ice pack on his chest, his breath wheezing just slightly. He had been expecting to deflect a knife, or some sort of thrown projectile. He had been braced and prepared for it, too. He hadn't expected the brat to actually punch him. And, like a complete newbie, he had left his torso unguarded.

He was glad that he was alone in the cave for the moment. Dick was back in Buldehaven, negotiating for time off so that he could better lend a hand, both in searching for Damian and covering for him while the kid was still AWOL. Duke was out dealing with the last of Joker's goons wandering around, Jason was back to ignoring all messages that were left for him, so either he had found something and wasn't in the sharing mood, or he was just being his usual, non-helpful self. Bruce had been called away to deal with a League matter, however reluctant he was to go, and was set to get back just before patrol. And Steph was upstairs with Cass, doing 'Girl Stuff' that they refused to talk about.

Part of Tim wondered if Girl Stuff included whatever Cass and Alfred had been working on. He was incredibly curious about what she and Alfred were up to in there, but had left it alone, more focused on their current predicament. He could investigate Cass's... whatever is in there, later.

Readjusting the ice pack again, Tim pulled away from his thoughts and looked over the security footage that Oracle had sent over again. The video played, just a corner of a busy Gotham street, but then it glitched slightly. Static overlays the clip for a few seconds, before clearing up again, revealing two figures on the opposite side of the street. One was obviously Damian, wearing clothes slightly too big for him, and the other was a teenager. Around the same age as the missing vigilante, and just shorter by an inch or two, there was no mistaking the fact that they were walking together. Tucked close to each other's sides, heads tilted close and holding hands, the two looked like a couple. It had been such an unexpected thing that Tim had questioned if Babs had sent him the right clip. But there was no denying that it was Damian in the video. So the question remained, who was the other guy?

When Tim had first received the video, he had posed that same question to Babs. Both Dick and Duke had seen him before, when they had confronted Damian at the mall, but there was no other real record of him. Running face recognition of the fuzzy, distorted images had brought up nothing, not even a slight match. It was almost if the teen didn't exist, which was not all that astounding in their line of work, but usually meant a lot of trouble.

Sighing, Tim leaned back in his chair, letting the video loop again. 'Just who are you, mysterious Snow-White?', he asked himself, rubbing his eyes. Groaning, he stretched as much as he was able with his new bruise before standing, shaking out the purposefully baggy shirt he had slid on to keep the ice from melting on it. He was trying his best to keep his new injury on the down-low, at least until he could figure out how to explain how their usually predictable, unpredictable wildcard of a little brother got the drop on him in the most unpredictable way possible.

Was it kind of hopeless to hope that Alfred wouldn't notice the odd attire? Yes. Did that mean the teen wasn't going to try at all? No, no it didn't. If Tim had his timing right, he might be able to slip right on up to his room, with no one any the wiser about his current physical condition. And with the abnormal amount of sleep he had been getting for the past few days, it probably wouldn't raise any alarms if he didn't come back out for a while.

Of course, Tim's perfect plan was shattered almost the minute he stepped out of the elevator, to find none other than Alfred himself re-arranging a stack of papers on Bruce's desk. The butler looked to him as he stepped out into the office, his sharp gaze raking over Tim with an intensity most hero's, and maybe even some villains, wish they had. The teen fought the urge to squirm under the man's gaze, and almost drooped alarmingly the minute he looked away.

Hope flared in Tim's chest when Alfred didn't immediately scold him with some witty quip, but it's embers were extinguished just as fast as they appeared when the man simply gestured to the chairs in front of the desk. Cursing mentally, he took a seat, careful of his now aching ribs.

"I would like to assume that you were not attempting to hide an injury from me, were you Master Timothy?" The butler asked, his tone not giving anything away.

Tim shook his head mutely, keeping his gaze fixed on the Superman paper weight they had gotten Bruce for Christmas one year.

"Good. Then I suppose you will have no trouble pulling up your shirt and letting me treat it properly, then?" Tim knew it wasn't a request, complying immediately. The butler let out a "Tsk," before getting to work, poking and probing the afflicted area to make sure nothing was broken before applying a layer of bandaged, then the ice pack, and one last layer of bandages. The cold was now pressed firmly against the bruise, dulling the ache with the cold that it radiated. Tim couldn't really help the sigh of relief that escaped him as the pain eased up.

"Thanks, Alfred." Tim sighed, leaning back in the comfortable chair for a minute before standing again.

"It was no problem, Master Timothy. But please, if you injure yourself, get it treated properly. A poorly placed bandaid will do a broken bone no good." With that, the man turned back to the desk, wiping some dust off one corner.Shaking his head, Tim sighed and left the room, headed for the kitchen. Despite all the sleep he had gotten, and the excess energy now in him, he really just wanted a cup of coffee.

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(I know that there are some spelling/grammar mistakes, but it's okay because I tried my best!)

For the amazing person who made the prompt for this story, as well as all the lovely people who follow along!

@halfblackwolfdemon @manapeer @xxwintrynightzxx @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 @blu-lilac @academicpurposes @secretdestinywerewolf @passivedecept @naluforever3 @postit-nope @spiteismymiddlename @2t-productions @plague-daisy @feet-achy @bubblecookies16 @thesapphiredragon13 @justwannabecat @magicalcollecter @adeniumdream @amuseofminds @lupagrim @readerkayden @dr-syko-pharm-4 @ladythugs @angelheartgamer @markthespot68 @kyrianclawraith @michikoy-yuki @servasvictoria02 @your-emo-nightmare @vala-dreams @scarlett-green-rose @t1dwarrior-of-earth @charlie-the-frogie @akikoyuii @mysticalcomputerdetective @roseuniverse999 @im-totally-not-an-alien @thefearfullone @weird-droplet-309 @jaytriesstuff @raventao @jacquelynwinchester @dragongoblet @tlise21 @longlivethefallen @the-archer-goddess @temple-of-jalebi @adepresseddwightsblogofjunk @plainly-colorful @the-legalHe-shipper @49saltpeppershakers @igotafewbadideas @tumbling-darkling @sparklygardenbouquet @sarcastic-yami @blueneko9314 @starscreamlover @liedboutmurder @do3y @roze-realm @some-mildly-happy-human @yinari-uchiha @azuera @chaoticmistake @altairsarts @kawaiikenna @heartsong18 @thetoyboxs @tricksovertreats @mnemovoid @lim4b3ans @horribly-lost-and-gay @keimiwolf @dryeraseslime @joey394

[50044w44s]

Spencer: so, everyone, this is Bella...

Emily: you're hot.

Emily: sorry, I didn't mean to say it out loud.

[she fully intended to say it out loud]

fic: Underground Affluence on ao3

[iwaoiness]

Orbit return

to not know who i am but still know that i'm good long as you're here with me

When they are eight years old and learn in class what the orbit and the planets and the stars and the universe are, Iwaizumi decides that on Oikawa's birthday he will no longer say happy birthday, but happy orbit return. It's funny, original, and the first time he does it, Oikawa is speechless; his jaw almost unhinges and his round, beady eyes widen like saucers. Then he lunges at Hajime, latching onto him like a koala bear. Iwaizumi screams at him, staggering as he wraps his little arms around him as best he can to keep them both from falling. Oikawa whispers thank you, Hajime-chan close to his ear, and Hajime feels a huge flip inside his chest, heat building up in his cheeks. He frowns, trying to conceal it, before whispering back you're welcome, dummy.

And it becomes a tradition. Every year, while the world congratulates Oikawa on his birthday, Iwaizumi congratulates him on his orbit return. He does it in person, gets the same koala hug (each year a little heavier), the same thank you, Hajime (at some point, Oikawa’s voice becomes deeper), and his heart gives the same leap within his chest (he eventually discovers it's not a medical pathology, but love). And when they are old enough to have social networks, he does it with photos as well.

Contrary to what he may appear to be, Iwaizumi actually enjoys taking pictures and posting them. His Instagram has an incredible aesthetic pattern (to Matsukawa and Hanamaki's surprise), with a polaroid or vintage filter that imbues them with nostalgia and timelessness, and sometimes he edits them for a subtle blur effect that encourages to look for the details hidden within. He alternates images of himself, friends and family with stunning angle shots of cityscapes, mountain landscapes, beaches at sunsets and sunrises. And in most of these images, constant and enduring as in Iwaizumi's own life, there is a small part of Oikawa (whether it's his backpack, his hand, his Star Wars socks, his hair, his glasses).

And every July 20, Tooru is the complete protagonist. The first photo he posts to congratulate him is one they take when they are 12 years old; the two of them are sitting next to each other in front of the full-length mirror in Tooru's sister's room. Oikawa’s smiling broadly at his reflection with a victory gesture, Hajime holding his mobile phone between them with one hand, smiling softly. Happy 12nd orbit return, Sillykawa.

The next one is at thirteen, this time, Oikawa alone, in Kitagawa Daiichi's gymnasium. He is lying face up, all sweaty and messy hair, but with an amused smile painted on his face, directed at Iwaizumi's IPhone camera. A Mikasa ball rests between his knees, his hands spread across his chest. Happy 13rd orbit return, Stupidkawa.

The next is at the age of fourteen. On one of Okinawa's beaches during the Oikawa-Iwaizumi's annual family trip, Tooru is underwater, leaning face down towards Hajime's new GoPro camera, his diving goggles covering half his face, his hair waving upwards, the static bubbles around his mouth curving into a wide grin, and his favourite swimming costume crammed with prints of all the Pokémon. In his hand, he holds a sea star, which he proudly shows. Happy 14th orbit return, Mermaidkawa.

The next one is fifteen years old. The two of them appear again, in a vertical selfie where each face occupies exactly half of the image. Their eyes, golden brown and moss green, at the same height. Pale skin and tanned skin contrasting with each other. Subtly wrinkled nose and upturned nose. Toothy smile and soft smile, inches apart. Happy 15th orbit return, Idiotkawa.

The next is at the age of sixteen. Oikawa sits in the cool shade of a tree on the hill where they went climbing, his back against the trunk and his fringes pulled back by a black headband. He holds a loaf of milk bread with both hands at lip level, and his round, glistening eyes behind his glasses look into the camera, crinkled at the sides by the smile. Happy 16th orbit return, Breadkawa.

The next one is seventeen years old. A volleyball net in the background, Oikawa's back, the one Iwaizumi has watched grow up all his life, in the foreground, sheathed in the Aoba Johsai shirt, this time, with the number one printed on it. Happy 17th orbit return, captain.

The next one is at the age of eighteen. This time it's just their hands, Tooru's and Hajime's, intertwined and somewhat blurred on the gear lever of Iwa-mum’s car. There is a silver ring gleaming on Oikawa's ring finger, another on Iwaizumi's. Happy 18th orbit return, babe.

The next one is at the age of nineteen. It is a photograph of another photograph that Iwaizumi is holding in one hand. The photograph is an old one, from when they were both nine years old. They are sitting on the porch (the same one in front of which Hajime is aligning the photograph perfectly with the landscape), their little legs just grazing the grass of Grandma Oikawa's house, each one holding a large slice of watermelon in their little hands. Hajime is puffy-cheeked from the fruit, head tilted towards Tooru's, who is laughing, a black seed stuck to his chin. Happy 19th orbit return, Toto. I miss u.

The next one is at the age of twenty. They are in front of the mirror in the cosy bathroom of Oikawa's small Argentinean flat, Iwaizumi standing, covering his face with his mobile phone, dressed only in the official sweatpants of the Argentinean men's volleyball team and an 85-kilogram Tooru hanging on him like a koala bear. Oikawa, dressed in old basketball shorts and all his strong back exposed (with some blue kinesiotape strips on his shoulders), hides his face in Iwa’s neck, the strands of his hair pointing in a thousand different directions, his strong legs wrapping around Iwaizumi's waist. Hajime's free arm effortlessly holds him, securely positioned under his backside. Happy 21st spin into orbit, Spoiltkawa.

The next is at the age of twenty-two. Tooru is sitting behind the low table in Hanamaki's flat, with a plastic crown full of artistic doodles (courtesy of the children at the kindergarten where Makki has started working) balanced on his head and a chocolate, banana and strawberry volleyball-shaped cake in front of him with the 27 candles lit (Mattsun and Hajime couldn't find a second number two candle in any of Miyagi's six fucking bazaars, so they bought a second number 7 because think of it as a long-term investment, by the time you're 27, we'll have the candles ready; the fact that they are single-use candles is just a small irrelevant detail). His eyes sparkled brighter and more golden than ever in the orange candlelight, his lips open in a wide smile that revealed his whitish, lined teeth, with those big palettes. Happy 22nd (or 27th lol) orbit return, Oldkawa.

The next one is at the age of twenty-three. They were only able to meet once that year, so Iwaizumi rescues one of the photographs they took at that time, on Takeru's birthday, with a costume theme because he was looking forward to it and wanted to turn fifteen as Spiderman. And it was precisely Takeru who took the picture of them, because Iwaizumi taught him and he is very good at it ("definitely, much better than your uncle", "I heard you, Iwa-chan!"). They appear shoulder to shoulder, arms crossed, Hajime disguised as Zoro (with the green suit completely unbuttoned at the bottom, showing his entire solid muscular torso, black military boots and three plastic katanas hanging from his waist; the black ribbon covering all his green dyed hair and the three shiny earrings hanging from his ear) and Oikawa disguised as Sanji (with the wine-coloured suit tight to his beauty body, the black shirt with the first buttons unbuttoned, a loosely tied white tie, the fringe falling over his eye and a fake cigarette dangling from his lips). Happy 23rd orbit return, Shitty cook.

The next is at the age of twenty-four. Oikawa, wearing an old Hajime shirt and blue boxer shorts, peers out from the bathroom doorframe, a frog-shaped headband tucking his hair back and an avocado-green mask covering his entire face. He gives the camera an amused grimace, his eyes squinting, nose gently wrinkled, cheeks puffed out and lips pursed as if he were blowing a kiss. Happy 24th orbit return, my pretty boy.

The next one is at the age of twenty-five. In a supermarket car park in Seville during a romantic getaway in Spain. Oikawa is sitting on the still-empty supermarket trolley, his legs bent because he is too tall. He is grinning from ear to ear under the baseball cap of Iwaizumi, whose hand is peeking over the edge of the photograph holding the handle of the trolley. Happy 25th orbit return, mi alma.

The next is at the age of twenty-six. Oikawa is deeply asleep between the sheets in Hajime's new flat in Shibuya. He is curled up on his stomach with one leg bent (because he is apparently against holding a single position when sleeping) his head hanging off the pillow and the thin sheet draped over his hips. He is wearing Iwaizumi's trainer's uniform shirt and has one of the most spectacular bedheads. Iwaizumi's hand is on his cheek, his thumb on the bone. Happy 26th orbit return, Tooru.

The most recent photo is the twenty-seven-year-old. Tooru appears happy, radiant, beautiful, and glorious sunder the stadium floodlights, his Argentinean national team shirt clinging to his torso with sweat, like the strands of his hair on his forehead; the skin around his eyes is subtly reddened by the explosion of emotions that brought him down in the middle of the court after scoring the winning point. He bites the gold medal they just won at the Olympics, his lips raised in a giant smile that he can't and won't wipe off. Happy 27th orbit return, my love. You have no idea how proud I’m of you.

...

u can find this and more on my ao3 🌻

[wandering-tides]

TNE Fandom where are you?

Sujin shippers where are you?

I have Fics to Rec

I don't really go out of my way to rec fics (and I dunno why I have never done this before on tumblr), but BY GOD, have these two fics taken a special place in my heart.

I ADORE everything about them.

They are both Suho x Hajin ships

But the ship aside, I am so incredibly grateful for the authors to have brought them to life and allowed us to read these absolute GEMS of a fic in this little, little fandom of The Novel's Extra.

Really, y'guys have no idea how giddy and excited I get at every update.

Now, the fic in question?

1. Flowers of Agápē by DescendedGaia (Not sure if the author has a tumblr or any other social media... but lemme know if you want me to tag you :) )

Kim Hajin is a failure. There's no two ways to look at that objective truth. It's a truth that resonates through how others look at and ridicule him. It's a truth that echoes infinitely inside his head, compounding and doubling down on his inadequacies. It's a truth, despite the unconditional love of two parents that soothe but cannot dispel those haunting doubts. Kim Suho is simply perfection. The desperate vessel and ideal of Hajin's "ifs" and wishes. Because Kim Suho, the protagonist of Hajin's novel, is everything Hajin wants to be for his parents and more. But, that same story falls apart at the seams the same way Hajin has lost faith in himself. Yet, as the common narrative dictates, everything begins anew with an innocuous email requesting to remake Hajin's novel, his desperation and desire incarnate.

*** Alternatively, the extremes of Korean culture break Kim Hajin into someone who feels much more acutely, and everything shifts to the left.

This is such a MASTERPIECE. Hajin's characterisation in here is just *chefs kiss*. For me, thats one of the biggest plus points in this fic. Hajin is so much more emotionally sensitive in here and feels far more acutely than in the orignal, as should have been.

This fic has been adressing almost all the points that made me frown at or dislike in the orignal novel and manhwa (and from what I can notice, almost every one too).

This fic is kinda a rewrite of the orignal novel, (tho the author follows the manhwa flow of the story) with added Suho interactions, and such good characterization of Hajin, I fell in love at first read LMAO.

So far, there aren't any major spoilers (unless you read the author end note, where they give their own tid-bits of the chap, which sometimes contain spoilers too, or go to the comment section which may sometimes give you spoilers to the novel lol) If you are caught up with the manhwa, or atleast the season 1 of manhwa, then so far there won't be any spoilers for you!

And I think i'll stop talking about it here cuz if I keep going, I think i'll end up giving in-fic spoilers Lmao

(Oh, btw, this updates every other thursday! So far, it's been consistent in its updates ^^)

So onto the next fic!

2. Mountain To No one by @thek1ngtalks (as k1ng0fn0b0dy on ao3)

There's a number on his smartwatch that leads to nowhere. Suho's gotten in the habit of texting it throughout his day. Today, it texted back.

_ Or, in a world missing Kim Hajin, everyone is worse off. Fixing this starts with (a lot of) text messages between a protagonist and his missing piece.

And Man.... where do I begin? I have SO MUCH to say about this fic but I think i'll end up spoiling the whole fic if I start lmao. It's just so good dammit. Just gonna say that this fic takes after the end of the novel, after the conclusion. Only couple few remembers Hajin in the orignl right? Well, in this fic, nobody does. But Suho is probably (???) Going to be the first to remember... I dunno tbh, the fic is only 2 chaps in (and yes, I really adore it already)

I love what the author did with Suhos character and how he is dealing with the aftermath of... everything. Same goes for Hajin, and I love where they seems to be taking this fic. How they characterizes these two main characters and everything.

Listen, I have a LOT to say but i'll just end up giving spoilers so really go read it for yourself. This is another MASTERPIECE of a fic and I am so grateful for its presence in this little TNE fandom TT

Really, thankyou for such amazing fics authors!!

And that's all from me!! Lol I was so excited while writing this XD (could you tell? Lol)

(I edited this post twice because of all the typos I ended up making in excitement LMAO)

[kristylime]

New Nandermo Fic- "You Got It, Boss"

I had zero intention of doing this, but somehow it happened.

I don't know if we're being trolled or teased, but it hurt. So many OPs have brought up really great point that I agree with... especially those who have written about what happened to Marwa in the name of comedy versus what may not be happening to Nandermo in the name of... some sense of propriety?

Didn't Paul see the Vampiric Council's sexual harassment video? Weren't the two rules/suggestions: 1) Do what you want 2) The orgies should start on Thursdays

Anyway, something that @weakformemo said to me last night made me think that this might be the best way for me to sort of process this in the short-term.

So, here it is:

This is for @weakformemo and @indashadows <3

[ifonlyicouldcosplay]

I don't know about anyone else or why someone would unbookmark it but I'm practically frothing at the mouth whenever you post an update on nocturnal serenade lmao❤️❤️❤️🦇

I really appreciate you saying that, u have no idea 😭 Its my 1st fic, so I get nervous about doing something wrong 😅 But I'm so glad you like it, thank you!

[arthdoesart]

Finally made a proper cover for Grueling and bitter work (my fic) (Heavenscoin🥺) because what else would I be doing with my spare time? I honestly prefer this one than with the title cause I feel like I screwed up with the layout :'))

Anyways, this series, AS ALWAYS, dedicated to @plvtarch

Part 1 is currently ongoing but the other timelines following it keep on writing itself XD so there's that as content for some Heavenscoin read.

Also, will be updating it with this cover.

I'll link it here again in case anyone is curious lol:

Grueling and bitter work (30427 words) by PinkMuseSundays Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes - Suzanne Collins Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Alma Coin/Plutarch Heavensbee, Fulvia Cardew & Plutarch Heavensbee, Haymitch Abernathy/Effie Trinket, Haymitch Abernathy & Plutarch Heavensbee Characters: Alma Coin, Plutarch Heavensbee, Haymitch Abernathy, Fulvia Cardew, Katniss Everdeen (Mentioned), President Paylor, Effie Trinket, Lysistrata Vickers, Hilarius Heavensbee, Coriolanus Snow Additional Tags: Heavy Angst, hurt & more hurt, Friends to Lovers to Enemies to Lovers times two, Hate Sex, Hate to Love, Lovers & Enemies, Bloody Kisses, aggressive kisses, Blood Kink, Chair Sex, Table Sex, Cunnilingus, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Unplanned Pregnancy, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Guilty Pleasures, Feral Alma Coin, Lovesick Plutarch, Mutual Pining, some Hayffie slices on the side, Hot Heavenscoin, Slight Heavensdew, Platonic Heavensdew, Capitol x District pairing supremacy, Plutarch and Haymitch agrees, Some Humor, candy kink, former established relationship - Freeform, Plutarch family tree, Riding on that headcanon from Songbirds and Snakes, There is SOME politics on this, Oh wow there is plot what do you know, Tooth-Rotting Fluff Series: Part 1 of The odds came with blood and peppermints Summary: "Alma Coin," Paylor puffs her chest and straightens her chin to point toward District thirteen's former president. "We find you guilty of not only endangering the Mockingjay, but if left unchecked, the possibility of continuing the existence of the Hunger Games and condemning another group of innocent children to their deaths… It is decided, that you will be effectively exiled within the confinement of whichever home your jailer will provide. A lifetime, for your sentence."   Paylor let her eyes drift to the ex-head gamemaker who stood silently from the corner of the room. Plutarch Heavensbee watched as everything had been set to his liking. Paylor had heard rumors. And as far as rumors go, she particularly didn't like this one.</p

[pygmedallion]

[the-lavender-room]

Act 1: The Sea of The Crimson King

Ch 1: A Beautiful, Bloody Beginning.

Ch 2: Why Forbidden?

Ch 3: Stores an questions

Ch 4: coming soon

[jackwolfes]

thinking about that post of people assuming ao3 has an algorithm and also about how bonkers persistent the view is that ao3 is social media lite. like with startling regularity I get comments saying something along the lines of "it's probably weird to comment on a fic this old--" no it isn't!!!! this is an archive I am literally just assuming you searched for a selection of specific tags or sorted by kudos or looked back on my pseud or any other number of completely normal ways to use an archive site ?? kill the tiktok ghost in your brain and comment on old stuff it's NOT weird

[poke-me-with-a-stick]

Chapter 30 of 'Artificial Wingman!'

For the full story on Ao3, click here!

Enjoy!

---

Soldering the last wire in place, Danny wipes the imaginary sweat from his brow as he sets his tool down, the plasmic blade retreating onto the metal. Slowly, the haze that always seemed to invelope him during repetitive actions lifted, leaving the teen to blink as he took in the space around him.

Part of him was slightly surprised for a second when he found himself not in one of his familiar work spaces, like his bedroom or the ops center, but that part of him was placated quickly as he identified the aparmtment around him. Outside the apartment window, the clouded sky was still in the dark of early morning. Meaning that Danny had been sitting there for a while.

He remembered Jason leaving, and Jazz heading to bed not long after. He and Robin had stayed up, just relaxing on an actually clean couch and watching movies, but eventually Robin had nudged him along to bed as well. Only, after tossing and turning for what felt like hours, Danny had found himself wide awake.

It was around one in the morning that the teen had given up on sleep, using his more ghostly side to slip undetected past the bedrooms and into the living room. His only distraction sat on the coffee table, untouched from the time it had been set there.

He knew that he had lost himself in his work for an hour at the least, and probably four or five at the most. From the slight stiffness in his lower back and the cramp in his knee, the teen would hazard a guess of three hours.

Shaking the tension from his body, Danny flipped the plastic piece of the casing over, pressing the red power button before clicking the casing back into place. He couldnt' helt to hold his breath as his finger's glazed over the outer switch, a hesitance stalling his movements before he pushed past it. Before he could chicken out, he closed his eyes and pressed upwards on the repourposed light switch.

Almost immediately a hum filled the air, the metal and plastic heating slightly in his hands as electricity flowed through its messy insides. When it didn't explode in his fookishly unprotected face, Danny allowed himself to release the breath his was holding. His curiosity grew the longer he listened to the steady humming, prompting him to Crack his eyes open, just a smidge, to catch a glimpse.

Opening his eyes fully, the teen straightened from his slightly fetal position, unfurling his legs and pushing his spin against the back of the well-loved couch he sat on. The gun was glowing, just as it was supposed to, with it's bright neon green engraved trails. A faint green glow slowly swirled through the glass walls of the storage vials, the ecto filtration up and running, working hard to replenish the gun's stores.

It would only be a few hours before those cartridges were filled up enough to make a tear in the fabric of the veil that separated the living world from the dead, but just a tear wouldn't be enough. The vials would have to be at least half way full to open the portal home. Ripping a hole through the fabric of one dimension straight into the other, completely bypassing the middle ground, would take a lot more ectoplasm than just opening a passage to the realm itself.

Flipping the switch back off, Danny listened carefully as the humming sound died down to just a low whirring noise. Satisfied, he grabbed one of his tools and channeled his energy into it, not even observing the Philips head screwdriver tip that manifested before he got to work reassembling the casing, more that just popping the plastic casing into place. Once it was finished and looking like it was fresh from his parent's lab, the teen slipped it carefully back into the bag.

Zipping it closed, Danny's lips pinched into a firm pout, a conflicted expression covering his face in a perfect replication of his inner turmoil.

On the one hand, the completion of the gun brought with it not only that content, fuzzy feeling of accomplishment, but also the hope of finally going home. He had been ignoring it up until this point, but Danny really did miss home. His room, his house, his friends, his stars‐‐

But on the other hand, the thought of leaving, and maybe never seeing Robin again made his core burn. A very uncomfortable feeling for an ice core. There is no reason to put off trying the antidote, no reason to linger here after it work its magic. Pun fully intended.

Part of him was hopeful, whispering of the possibility that the potion wouldn't work. Or if it did, that Robin would ask him to stay. Or, if he didn't ask for Danny to saty, then maybe he would request that the teen visit occasionally.

As much as Danny wished that he could rely on his hope, he knew it was a fools errand. He had already acknowledged his crush on the teen vigilante, but acting on it with no garuntee that the other teen's feelings were real...

Danny shook his head, disregarding his thoughts. There was no use thinking on it now. He was pulled fully out of his spiraling by the sound of the window behind him sliding open.

Turning around, Danny's eyes came to rest on Jason, decked out in his vigilante gear, pushing himself through the opening that should have been too small for him. The man moved so quietly for someone of his stature. Of not for Danny's enhanced senses, he would have had no idea the man had come in at all.

It seems that Jaspn wasn't expecting him either, because when the man turned, he tripped, hitting his knee on the corner of the table with a decent thud. Muffled cursing followed as he rubbed at the sore spot, likely already developing a good sized bruise.

"Fucking hell, kid! What are you doing, just sitting in the dark like that! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!?" Jason cursed vehemently, struggling with his helmet for a moment before it slid off. Setting it down, he turned and settled a glare on the teen.

Danny laughed a bit nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as he met Jason's glare with an aapologetic look of his own. "S-sorry," he stammers.stampers. "I, uh. I couldn't sleep."

Jason sighs, kneeling down to undo his boots before addressing Danny again. "You're fine, kid. Just, turn on a light next time, yeah? It's unnerving to enter a room and see glowing eyes peering at you from the dark like some Lovcraftian horror."

Danny didn't bother with abverbal response, instead flashing a cheeky fanged smile at the man, letting ectoplasmic shine leak into his eyes ever so slightly, just enough for them to flash green for a second. Jason froze for a moment at the unnataural desplay, before shaking hismelf out of his brief stupor. Shooting Danny an indecipherable look, he stalks into the kitchen without another word.

Danny stands, following him as he goes about ruffling through the cabinets and fridge. Pulling out eggs, flour, milk, sliced fruits and berries, butter, and everything else. The teen couldn't help but to tilt his head, curious as he watched the man Crack a few shells, dumping the contents into the bowl before adding in the dry ingredients and mixing with milk.

-

An hour later, with dull gray sunlight trickling through the window, Damian wanders in. His hair is slightly disheveled and pajamas rumpled, but his sunglasses in place, he pauses and takes in the scene before him.

Danny, who had at some point joined Jason in the kitchen, was shaking the blender from side to side as he swayed erratically to some pop song he had heard Brown blasting once. Behind him, Jason was subconsciously bobbing his head along to the beat as well, too consumed in flipping pancakes and measuring the fruit he dropped into the batter.

Damian decided not to comment on any of it, instead settling down on a bar stool and watching, taking in the mouthwatering smells of Todd's cooking. It wasn't long before the teen found hismelf joined by a sleep rumpled Jasmine, who took in the scene before her with wide eyes.

The pop song gradually switched to something slower, one of those cheesy love songs that Richard enjoyed listening to, before Todd reached over and switched it off. "Go sit down, kid." He told Danny, flipping the last perfectly golden pancake onto a plate and adding just a touch of powdered sugar over the fruit-infused flatbread.

Danny scrunched his face in distaste at the endearment, but said nothing as he turned the blender off and walked around the counter to settle on the stool next to Damian. Once he was settled, Damian reached over and pressed his arm lightly into the other teen's, their shoulders rubbing together. "Good morning," he greeted before pulling away, giving Danny his personal space back.

"Oh! Good morning, Robin!" Danny's cheerful smile was much too bright for so early in the morning, but Damian reveled in his metaphorically seared retinas.

"Good morning, Danny." Jasmine reached over, ruffling the teen's naturally messy black hair. He squeaked in faux outrage, making a poor attempt at ducking away from his sister's hand, before playfully shoving her arm away.

" 'Morning, Jazz," he grunted, his tone slightly more annoyed than it had been durning Damian's greeting. That shouldn't have warmed his chest the way it did.

His sister laughed at his faux hostility, giving his hair one last ruffle before turning to Todd. "Good morning, Jason." She greeted him, her voice softening in an odd way. Damian couldn't help but notice the look Danny shot his sister, a mixture of contemplative and suspicious.

"Good mornin', Jazz." Todd's voice softened in a similar fashion to Jasmine's. The teen across from Damian shot the same suspicious look at the man.

Thankfully, communication between the two stopped there, as they became too focused on their breakfast to continue ogling each other. Damian himself tore his attention away from the others, looking down at the plate of food that Todd had set down in front of him.

They all ate their meals in companionable silence, the only sound in the room that of chewing, and forks scraping along ceramic plates as they finished. That silence continued as Danny stood, collecting the plates and setting to work cleaning them.

The silence was only broken as Jason let out a loud sigh, patting his knee as he stood. "Well, if you all don't mind, I'm going to so catch up on my sleep."

"Alright," Jasmine nodded to him, setting her empty cup on the counter as she grabbed a pitcher from the fridge. "Sleep well, Jason!" She called after him.

"Wake me up if there's an emergency! And try not to get the police called!" He calls out behind him, not bothering to wait for a response before shutting the bedroom door behind him. Rolling his eyes, Damian stood from the table, pushing his chair in and wandering into the kitchen.

Letting his arm brush against Danny's, the teen peered over the halfa's shoulder. "Do you need help with those?" He offered, leaning over the slightly shorter boy.

Danny hummed, thinking on it for a minute, before nodding. "Yeah, sure." He smiled, scootching over to make space at his side. Damian slips into place, taking over rinsing the sudsy cutlery and placing them in the drying rack. With the additional help, it wasn't long before the sink was empty, all evidence of their quiant breakfast gone.

"Hey, you two done yet?" Jazz called from the living room, already lounging in her chosen spot, an armchair situated in the corner, facing the room in a way that let the person seated there see the whole room. It was obviously Todd's favored spot, considering the books resting on the side table, just shy of the automan, which held the woman's legs aloft.

"We're done!" Danny answered her, walking around to flop down dramatically on the couch. Damain followed suit, though he sat down more gracefully than his beloved. "Sooo~" the teen drew out the word. "What can we do that won't get the police called on us?"

His sister hummed, resting her chin in her palm as she considered his question. "Well, most board games are off the table, our family is way too competitive." Both her and Danny shuddered, as if reliving a previous memory. If their family was anything like Damian's, then the teen could tell where they were coming from. "And video ges are out for the same reason. So, maybe we could watch a movie?"

Danny shrugged, letting his head roll to face Damian. "What do you think?" He asked.

Damian blinked, warmed by the teen's consideration. "A movie sounds... adequate, I suppose." He agreed, grabbing the remote from the table and handing it to Danny. "Though I do request the we leave any romances out. Those are something Todd and the girls enjoy."

Danny took the remote, shooting him finger guns. "No cheesy romance movies, got it!" His eyes fix on the TV as he speaks, the teen completely missing the way his sister face palmed at the, admittedly, adorable gesture. "Aha!" He exclaims after a second, grinning madly as he clicks on a thumbnail. "This looks cool!"

As much as Danny held his heart, Damain wanted to strangle him in that moment. Instead, he merely scowled and settled back against the cushions as Danny clicked play on a children's movie adaptation of his father's and Richard's earlier adventures through Gotham.

After the intro credits, Damain feels a weight on his shoulder. Glancing down, he is met with a face full of black hair. Letting himself relax a bit, Damian couldn't help but to admit to himself that maybe this movie would be bearable, so long as the halfa kept such close contact.

- - -

Dick can't help but to groan in horror at the fabric that Stephanie had placed in his hands. Her guilty, kicked puppy expression made any anger he may have felt melt away.

"I am so, so, so sorry about your costume," the girl blubbers, her apologies rambling on as he continues to stare, wordlessly, at what used to be his vigilante suit. The outfit was practically unrecognizable, black base stained with gray and pink splotches, the bird on the chest purple instead to wash.

But the worst thing wasn't the stains that marred his suit. No, the worst thing was the fact that it was four times smaller than what it had been when he gave it to Steph to wash. That's right, his pseudo sister had somehow managed to shrink his suit, along side her accidental vandlilization.

Finally pulling his eyes away from the unrecognizable nightwing suit, Dick met his pseudo sister's eyes. "I'm not mad at you," he tried to reassure her, "it's obviously an accident. But why didn't you just give it to Alfred to wash?"

Steph diverted her gaze to the floor, head bowed in shame. "Alfie was busy, and I didn't want that disappointed look he gives when one of us messes up." Her words were muffled slightly by her lavender sweater, but audible all the same. "Besides, I wash mine all the time! I was sure I knew how to do it!" Her voice choked put slightly, her shoulders shaking as she continued to glare holes into the concrete floor.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Dick hurriedly put his hand on her shoulder, trying to rub comforting circles into it. "It's okay! I have more suits, somewhere! No need to cry!"

Was he a bit panicked at his sister's excessive emotional reaction? Yes, yes he was. But who could blame him? Steph was one of the most emotionally available people, not being an official Wayne and having her own home to return to probably helped her in that regard, but still! As a big brother, family relations or not, it was his job to comfort. And the woman in front of him did not look comforted.

Unbeknownst to the man, the girl was not actually crying, instead starting at the floor as she tried not to blow her cover by laughing at the deer in headlights expression he had on his face.

When her shoulders finally stilled, Dick gave her one last pat before pulling away again. Taking another look at his ruined suit, he sighed. "I appreciate that you tried to help, wether it worked put or not. But maybe we should leave doing the laundry to the rest of the family, yeah?" Dick smiled as Steph wiped her face with her sleeve, finally bringing her gaze back up to his. His own expression stuttered slightly at the determination on her face.

"You might be right there," she admitted sheepishly, her voice cracking slightly. Clearing her throat, she seemed to think about something for a minute. "But that doesn't mean that there aren't other things I can do to make it up to you!" She shot him a hard smile of her own before turning and dashing to the elevator.

Dread builds in his gut as he tries to call after her. "Steph, wait! You don't have to make it up to me!" He tries to run after her, only to slip on something.

Looking down, he's met with his costume, which he had, at some point dropped, tangled around his feet. Cursing under his breath, the man desperatly tries to untangle himself, cursing even more as he comes free only to watch as Steph's feet dissappear above him.

Dropping his head, Dick groans. He is sure that, whatever Steph comes up with, it's gonna be chaos. And once she gets an idea into her head, it's nearly impossible to talk her out of it. The best he can do is hope that, whatever she's planning on doing, Alfred will put a stop to it if she goes too far.

Taking another look at his suit, Dick can't help but to thank the paranoia that Batman had instilled in almost every Robin. That paranoia assures him that he has more suits around here somewhere, so the loss of one isn't a big loss.

Standing, Dick debates for a minute, before deciding to look for one of his spare suits instead of going after Steph. Surley she couldn't cause too much chaos in the hour or so it would take him to dig out one of his spares?

---

(I know there are probably some grammar and/or spelling mistakes, but it's okay because I tried my best!)

For the amazing person who made the prompt for this story, and the lovely people who follow along!

@halfblackwolfdemon @manapeer @xxwintrynightzxx @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 @blu-lilac @academicpurposes @secretdestinywerewolf @passivedecept @naluforever3 @postit-nope @spiteismymiddlename @2t-productions @plague-daisy @feet-achy @bubblecookies16 @thesapphiredragon13 @justwannabecat @magicalcollecter @adeniumdream @amuseofminds @lupagrim @readerkayden @dr-syko-pharm-4 @ladythugs @angelheartgamer @markthespot68 @kyrianclawraith @michikoy-yuki @servasvictoria02 @your-emo-nightmare @vala-dreams @scarlett-green-rose @t1dwarrior-of-earth @charlie-the-frogie @akikoyuii @mysticalcomputerdetective @roseuniverse999 @im-totally-not-an-alien @thefearfullone @weird-droplet-309 @jaytriesstuff @raventao @jacquelynwinchester @dragongoblet @tlise21 @longlivethefallen @the-archer-goddess @temple-of-jalebi @adepresseddwightsblogofjunk @plainly-colorful @the-legalHe-shipper @49saltpeppershakers @igotafewbadideas @tumbling-darkling @sparklygardenbouquet @sarcastic-yami @blueneko9314 @starscreamlover @liedboutmurder @do3y @roze-realm @some-mildly-happy-human @yinari-uchiha @azuera @chaoticmistake @altairsarts @kawaiikenna @heartsong18 @thetoyboxs @tricksovertreats @mnemovoid @lim4b3ans @horribly-lost-and-gay @keimiwolf @dryeraseslime @joey394

[50044w44s]

the tw of my last chap are killing me, i didn't even remember

[innerenigma]

•Normalize Fanart for Fanfics Again You Fools•

It's not cringe anymore (it SHOULDN'T be cringe anymore), just do it. You're doing something you enjoy, who cares what anybody else says! So spread the words my fellow internet brethren.

Spread the Word :)

[k9effect]

Reblog for a larger sample size!

No "show results", if you're not a fanfic writer just be patient.

I saw a post about an anon saying it was embarrasing to have an ao3 account in your 30s (it's absolutely not), so I want to do a poll and see what the age range actually is.

[kristylime]

Hey there...

I have written a follow-up to "You Got It, Boss"...

Had to bring back that sassy Guillermo...

A check-in with the boys one month in.

[shaftking]

Ao3 is actually massively culturally important and very very good at being what it is. I’m so serious when I say that ao3 needs to be protected as the anti censorship, by fans for fans, nonprofit, volunteer run, expertly designed archival site that it is. You don’t have to read or like fanfiction to understand that on principle, ao3 is a site that should be defended.