#it doesn't work in reverse

[technically-human]

Part two of the reverse verse is here! The reverse boys meet the original boys. They're not really getting along as well as I had hoped...

Again, this was a commission for @i-am-as-normal-as-you-are and they asked for angst/funny vibes... I think it's mostly just angst though. Oh, well...

Part one

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

It had been a long few minutes since he'd opened the door and there were a lot of questions running through Dick's head. Most pressing of which was how this kid seems to have information he should not have.

"How did you..?" he asked, but the words wouldn't leave completely. There's so much he wants to know, so much he wants to ask.

"How do I what?" Danny tilted his head like the child he seems to be is.

"How do you know?" Dick knows he sounds weak. There's no hiding that, but there are a lot of implications in what the kid has said so far and none of it is painting a very happy picture for him.

"Oh!" Danny had the audacity to smile, "You want to know how I know you moonlight as a vigilante!" And of course he knows. Dick knows he knows, but he'd held a little bit of hope that the child Danny was mistaken. Danny's smile softened a bit as he explained, "Your hair and voice match up in both jobs almost perfectly. Not to mention your build and how you hold yourself. There's also the matter of your overall vibes, but that's not something living beings can normally pick up on." Excuse him? "Well, not living humans, at least, so no worries on that end!"

"Excuse me?" Dick was fairly sure his heart just stopped beating for a moment there.

"Anyway, I was a hero back home for a while, too. I know what it's like to have to walk the tightrope between maintaining a civilian cover and a hero persona. I know how it feels to have to keep secrets from everyone because anyone who knows will be in danger." he rambled, Though, admittedly, our circumstances are quite different. I was working as a hero all hours of the day as well as going to school. You only have to worry about properly balancing between day and night jobs. Either way, me having more to bounce between just makes me al the more qualified to help you!"

Oh. Oh he did not like that. He didn't like a single thing that just came out of the kid's mouth. Because that's what he is, a kid. "Are you...Are you alright?"

"Not in the slightest," Danny admitted with an even smaller smile. Then, it brightened, not quite to a grin, but to something similar, "But I'm here to make sure you are."

He gets points for being honest, but Dick felt his heart shatter. He knew for a fact that he'd never worked with this kid before. He also knew that the Justice League didn't know about him. If they did, he would've been picked up and dropped with either the Young Justice team or the Titans.

Dick wasn't going to ask why he became a hero because that's not his place. It's more of a 'third mission with the team' kind of questions, anyway. Most of the heroes didn't have many options when they took up the mantle. Asking what Danny can do is a more appropriate question, but he wasn't going to ask that, either.

"Now that that's out of the way," Danny turned a few pages from the table of contents to another one that was topped with 'Why Sleep Scheduling Is Important' in the blue glitter pen that Dick was starting to suspect he favored. "You're not getting enough sleep. Following you around - no one's been able to find me for a while, so don't worry about that - for the last two weeks has given me some really worrisome information on you."

Dick was worrying. He was worrying a lot and even more questions were coming to the forefront of his mind.

"Your dayjob is as an officer on the Bludhaven Police Force, or BPD for short." He was looking over the page he'd turned to very aptly and Dick realized that the kid had notes written on him. "The average hours per week for police across the country is forty hours. Gotham and Bludhaven are the exceptions. As a member of the BPD, you work a solid two days and two hours. Six nights a week, you work as Nightwing from eight in the evening to three in the morning. The last day, you take off, which is good. No deserable pattern, so good on you for that. Regardless, that's seven hour nights and ten hour days, with one day off and one day on call as an officer. Seven hours are now left in your day for personal time, eating, and sleeping. That's not a healthy way to live."

Oh, god, the kid had honest to god notes on him! What the hell!

Danny didn't even skip a beat as he pulled Dick's attention back to him and his binder. "I've drawn up a schedule for you to follow." The back of the page had a meticulously drawn schedule, complete with blocks of time to eat, sleep, work both jobs, travel, personal time, and still have a bit extra left over. It was titled 'Ideal End Result' in green marker. "Drastic changes right away will only affect you negatively, so we're starting off smaller." The next page over had another schedule titled 'Where To Begin'. "I've only pulled one hour from your Nightwing hours because I know important that time is to you and the city. I am, however, going to be having you submit an appeal to your boss to cut back your hours from fifty a week to forty a week. That way, you'll only be working eight hours a day and not ten. You'll still be on call for one day, and you'll have that last day off. Altogether, you'll be going be going from working seventeen hours a day to fourteen hours a day. Nine in the morning to five in the afternoon, and eight in the evening to two in the morning. Not including breaks at work or travel time. It opens up a few more hours for you to sleep!"

"You really think the chief is going to pull back my hours?" Dick raised an eyebrow in question.

"He will if he knows what's good for him."

"You know I can arrest you for that threat, right?"

"Yeah, but you won't." And, damn it, he's right.

Although, there was now another thing he had to know. "How to you plan on enforcing this schedule of yours?"

Danny seemed to have been waiting for this. He got a gleam in his eye as he pulled a black folder from his bag, not breaking eye contact with Dick. He placed it on the table and pushed it across. "Congratulations, it's a boy."

Part 1 Part 3

[soulrox]

DPxDC #34 prompt

I had a thought based on this post, most fics are written where Danny has to deal with looking like insert character, and dealing with all the misunderstandings.

Like this post about Danny being mistaken for Tim and dragged around WE. - Also, very long, amazing post.

But what about the DC character that looks like Danny, and the Ghost attacks them. Or the observants - since they hate Danny - don't realize they took insert character and not Danny to the realms. The Observants don't care to check the ecto signal - if there even is one. They're just happy they got the brat to the meeting.

Whichever DC character got kidnapped by an eyeball and dumped into a chair at the head of some mythical council. A blue woman with four arms, a yeti with a bone and ice arm, a man ferociously typing away on a keyboard, a green tornado, a green man playing with some tech, and an old man with a clock on his chest, with an amused smile. All their eyes, looking right at them, in a seat they really should not be sitting in.

The ancients realize right away that whoever is sitting in the head chair is not Danny, but since they hate the observants, they go along with it, to blackmail the observants later. They make sure the meeting doesn't involve actual decisions to help out the random human brought by the observants.

If it's one of Danny's rogues, then the misunderstanding has to last a while. Like an actual embarrassing amount of time for the rogue. Running and hiding from some unknown entity that's calling you a "Halfa" while in your civilian identity isn't easy. The rogue just thinks Danny's not changing because they are in public, but nope, just the wrong person.

[fishareglorious]

for the first time ever vila gets drunk in one of lilya's drink alongs and proceeds to say this in full earshot of. windsong who was also drinking with them

[onboardsorasora]

I woke up this morning with a song in my heart and that song was reversed age gap maxiel with a lil scumbag Max in the bridge. I've had an ask in my inbox for months now about reversed aged gap maxiel and I thought this was the same vibe but sadly it isn't. Oh wells, this is what I wrote this morning. thank you @chaosinstigator for being an amazing cheerleader <3

1172 wrds. There is a part 2 apparently lol

Something something four-time world champion Max Verstappen looks across the garage at his new teammate, the 18yr old they dragged up from VCarb to replace Checo. 

Daniel Ricciardo was a fast driver, he'd only spent a fraction of the year in F2 before he was called up. And even though the car wasn't good, he was. Which is what mattered.

Helmut had been puffing chest out in pride ever since Daniel proved him right. 

Now the kid– because that's what he was, a kid– was talking to the old man, nodding periodically while Helmut spoke. Like a good boy.

They'd already met, had time to break the ice as teammates and Max could hardly ignore how his light brown eyes had shone with worship and awe. Or how Daniel’s voice had cracked when he promised to be a good challenge for Max this year. His lips pulled into an almost-but-not-quite-there cocky smirk over the brackets of his braces, and Max idly wondered what other ‘challenges’ Daniel would pose this year.

In the weeks since that, Max couldn’t help but notice Daniel. How could he not? He was cute, in a dorky way. He listened to loud music, loudly. Unlike Checo who kept his tunes to a reasonable volume for someone sharing a wall. Daniel was always giggling and joking around, trying to rile people up to play. 

Max was already riled up in a different way.

What with Daniel’s continued teasing and jokes, walking around in tiny shorts and showing his new thigh tattoo to anyone with eyes. He was flexible too, contorting his scrawny body into yoga poses while they waited for engineering to start, doing handstands in the hallway. He was loud when he got massaged. Max could hear him talking through the thin wall and then his voice would hitch and he would groan when Jon apparently hit a particularly deep knot. It drove Max up the wall.

Max knocked twice before opening the door– his usual standard– then froze in the doorway. Daniel looked at him wide eyed, dressed only in his underwear and clearly about to get dressed in his tight white fireproofs. Max hadn’t ever seen him so underdressed, even with all of the random activities they’d been doing for marketing. He was scrawny yes, but still lithe with corded muscles. Dotted with freckles and sunspots. Max gripped the handle of the door when Daniel’s big eyes lost their surprise and settled into upturned curiosity. His heart shaped lips dropped open a little, enough for Max to see his tongue pressing against his braces. Max wanted to smear his come in the brackets.

“Max?” Daniel’s voice pitched upwards.

Max mentally stepped away from the visuals of him debauching this kid. “Your music.” He got out.

“Oh jeepers, my bad. Sorry!” Daniel rushed to the table to lower the volume on his speakers. Max watched his ass in his tight briefs. How his thighs bunched as he moved, thick with dark wiry hair.

“Lovely, thank you Daniel.” Max smiled and Daniel’s face darkened with a pleased flush and he bit his lip. Max forced himself to close the door and go back to his own room.

— - —

They were changing after a gokart race for marketing, Daniel sat shirtless on the bench. Max looked over to see him already watching him. After spending the last twenty minutes with Daniel practically sat in his lap while Max gripped his tiny waist, Max would appreciate it if he got dressed already.

“I can hear your brain from here.” Max teased and Daniel’s lips pulled into an unconscious smile even as he looked away. 

“Sorry I just– you don’t like me, do you?” Daniel blurted and Max froze.

“What?”

“It’s just– you didn’t–I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have like said that.” Daniel shook his head and stood. Max watched him tuck his long sweaty curls behind his ear. 

“Why would you think that?” Max was confused as to why Daniel would assume that he hated him, and wondered what made him think that way. As far as Max was concerned, he hadn’t treated him any differently than anyone else. Unless Daniel was expecting special treatment? If anything, Daniel was getting special treatment. Max wasn’t going out of his way to be a dick to him, he wouldn’t do that to his young teammate.

“Uhm, I– everyone says you were nicer to Checo, warmer. I-I don’t think you’ve been bad– you’ve been great. But I’m not Checo and I dunno if you like resent me for replacing him.”

“Checo was my teammate for five years, I am not going to, of course, automatically treat you like him.” Max pointed out, “and you shouldn’t listen to the media, they are talking out of their asses most of the time.”

Daniel blushed and ducked his head, chastised. 

“Was that it?” Max asked kindly. He would rather get this all out in the open now.

“I'm sorry.” Daniel apologized, his upturned eyes looked glassy as if he was holding back tears. “I just want us to be friends I guess.” He shrugged.

“You don’t have to be friends with your teammate.”

“I know but.. You were friends with all of yours. Like Carlos.”

Max scoffed, he hadn’t been friends with Carlos when they were teammates– they fucked out their frustrations.

Daniel’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in a small o. Max shrugged and tugged his shirt over his head. He repacked his bag and tugged on a cap, turning to see Daniel squirming where he stood, a deep blush on his cheeks. And oh. Well this was interesting. 

Max crossed the room and stood over him, using the few centimeters he had on Daniel to his advantage. Daniel’s head tipped up trustingly and Max cupped his smooth chin in his big hand. Daniel let out a breathy exhale that had Max’s blood surging. 

Max leaned in closely, so close their noses touched. Daniel’s breath hitched. It would be so easy to take. To give in and do what he wanted to Daniel, clearly what Daniel wanted him to do to him. It would be so easy to ruin him entirely. Too easy. 

“You have no idea what you’re asking.” Max whispered against pink lips. Daniel whined in response.

“I– please. I can take it”

“Have you ever?” Max wanted to know, needed to know just how corrupt his little jailbait was. Daniel’s eyes widened and Max bit back his groan. Fuck.

“W-with girls.” Daniel admitted in a whisper, he grabbed at Max’s arm as if he were afraid that his admission would make him less desirable. As if Max hadn’t already been fantasising about fucking him seven ways to Sunday every fucking weekend. His cock stirred at the thought of being the first in the undoubtable tight clench of Daniel’s untried hole. Of being the first to have him writhing and screaming at the discovery of his prostate. 

Would he beg? Max quirked a smirk at the thought, Daniel was already begging right now. 

[blueskittlesart]

foxboy has been forcibly made ambidextrous due to blueskittles' forgetfulness

all characters are ambidextrous when im writing them (< guy who doesnt know the difference between left and right)

[montysoup]

'Can 2 men not just be friends?'

Sure they can, infact it's rude to assume they're anything more than that if they're real-life people. Of course, just because it's rude doesn't mean your wrong but as my dad (and lots of other people I'm sure) likes to say, 'assuming makes an ass out of you and me'.

However if the 2 men in this situation are fictional then them just being friends is entirely up to interpretation.

A straight person might just see them as friends because it's content and we all like to see content that represents us -even if they already have abundances of it.

And a queer person might see them as potential lovers, both due to being more open-minded to something like that and because, as I previously said, people like to be represented.

Now I don't mean to say straight people aren't open minded because, fact is, your sexuality does not define how open you are to things. All I'm saying is a queer person is more likely to already be open-minded due to having to realise their sexuality is different from the perceived 'normal' and having to be accepting of it.

So in conclusion, yeah 2 guys can absolutely only be best pals but that might just be how only you see it, and maybe there's something you need to look deeper into if you're getting upset at people interpreting the relationship of 2 fictional guys as romantic.

[penofwildfire]

You've heard of "Jay doesn't regain his memories but falls back in love with Nya anyway because their bond is just too damn strong", now get ready for "Jay does regain his memories but ends up asking if he and Nya can take their time before getting back together because they've been separated a long time and they've changed as people and he's still kinda recovering from the last several years so he's just not really ready for a serious relationship right now."

[thef99l]

anyone have a long post or ramble explaining and connecting Aleph to having dissociative identity disorder?

if not i will write one myself but id love to see other fans interpretations on it already-- especially those who have d.i.d themselves but not a requirement

[nemaliwrites]

have a snippet from the lil kwami swap thing i'm working on!

High above the streets of Paris, Mister Bug and Lady Noire talk about love.

It's a dangerous topic, to be sure; one that has to be tiptoed around with utmost care. A balancing act for Mister Bug. For Lady Noire too, perhaps, but she never seems like it affects her quite as much. Maybe that's why she's the one who brings it up.

"Are you in love, Mister Bug?"

His feet, from where they'd been kicking back and forth rhythmically, come to a stop. "Huh?"

"I'm just curious," says Lady Noire. On the rooftop they sit, there's more than a few centimeters of space between them. A gap that they're both waiting for Mister Bug to bridge. He only wishes he could. "Are you?"

Mister Bug tries to catch her eye. "Are you sure you want to talk about this? We... we don't have to--"

She waves a clawed hand in the air dismissively. "It's fine," she says, even though he knows it's not. He wonders what it is that's fine: talking about love, or talking about love when they both know he won't -- he can't -- reciprocate her feelings? "I wanna know. Is there anyone you love?"

There is. 

[technically-human]

The Case of the Devlin House (Reverse Verse!) as commissioned by @i-am-as-normal-as-you-are everyone thank Haunted!

The father of the Devlin family murdered his wife and children one night, and no one knows why. While investigating the case, Edwin finds a letter from the eldest daughter, in which she expressed her desire to go to college to get away from her father... and closer to the girl she loved. The family has been stuck in a loop since that awful night, and now Edwin is too.

Bonus:

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Preparations, Danny soon realized, were very much useless. He'd spend a while just watching the vigilante, recording his habits and schedule, following him around and taking note of the little details. Call him a stalker, but he was just trying to make sure Nightwing didn't end up in an early grave.

Not like him.

Any and all preparations Danny had made could not ever fully gear him up for actually talking to the only vigilante he'd ever met. Sure, he knew the guy from afar, but actually speaking to him? Looking him in the eye? Having the other look back at him and actually respond? The closest he'd ever gotten to letting the guy know he was there was when he left food out for him and made sure he had water, sometimes coffee, within reach at all times.

Now that Danny was here, standing in front of the door to Nightwing's - Richard Grayson, he'd learned on day three - apartment, he was frozen. Was he actually about to do this? Could he really risk it? What if Nightwing flipped out?

No. He couldn't think like that. Nightwing's a vigilante, a detective, and an officer of the law. He won't attack willy nilly. Besides, it was too late to turn back now. Danny knew way too much about Nightwing's life to back off now.

Not allowing himself to hesitate any longer, he reached up and pressed the doorbell. He didn't hear the sound, but shuffling from inside alerted him that the man he'd come to see was now moving towards him.

'I hope this goes well,' Danny thought. Then, the door opened. "Good, at least you're taking care of yourself and actually eating proper foods. Now, I'm here to discuss your extracurriculars and how to time manage them properly without running yourself into the ground." He didn't mean to enter the apartment uninvited, but he didn't want to risk Nightwing closing the door on him or something. "I've brought my own board with an ideal itinerary that I expect you to follow." He turned to look at the man. "Any questions?"

Nightwing rook a second to process the words. Then, he said, "Yeah, just one: Who the fuck are you, kid?"

Well, he was in this deep, might as well dig himself a deeper grave. "I would say I'm your new legal guardian, but you're older than me and I can't exactly adopt a fully grown adult." Right? Yeah. Danny sat down stiffly, his bag on the floor and leaning against his leg. He pulled out the binder he'd cleared out and dedicated to helping the older vigilante and put it on the table. "I could say that you're my new legal guardian, but we run into a similar problem." Kind of. Being dead is a legal barrier, so adoption's off the table. Transferred custody on the other hand? Well, he's got that taken care of. Though, he had to wonder, "Could you adopt me?" No, he couldn't think of a way that would work. "No matter."

Nightwing, still standing by the open door, shook his head a bit as if to clear his mind. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

Introductions? Yikes. "I'm Danny! Nice to meet you!" He had no idea how he's not completely bombed this yet, but he wasn't going to complain.

Nightwing didn't move from the door, let alone shake his hand. Danny put it back on his lap. "Likewise, I guess."

"What, no name?" Was that pushing it?

"I'm optimistic, not an idiot." Yeah, he'd towed the line a bit.

Shrugging to try and rid himself of the nervous butterflies in his stomach, Danny opened the binder to the front page. It was mostly so he'd have something to do with his hands, but it proved to be a decent distraction for Nightwing, too. Though, he pushed down a blush when he saw the glittery blue writing. It was the only other pen he had on him and he'd stolen it from Jazz.

The distraction didn't last. "How did you find this place?" Nightwing asked, the door still wide open.

"Doesn't matter." He didn't think the vigilante would take kindly to being stalked followed around the subject of a kid's curiosity.

Nightwing very much did not seem to believe him. "Why do you think I have a day job and a night job?"

Did he- Oh. The man was probably holding out some kind of hope that Danny wasn't saying what he was saying. Oops. Should he apologise? "I'm a realist, not an idiot."

Throwing the words back at him was probably not the best decision. Then, again, Danny hadn't made a whole lot of good decisions since he'd stepped foot in Bludhaven. At least here, there was a chance he could get away with it, relatively scot free. Imagine if he were in Gotham? With how violent Batman got recently? No thank you. He'd rather take his chances with his parents.

Danny did his best to not clear his throat as he flipped to the next page. "First thing's first. Why do you do what you do? Why go out at night to fight crime when, I assume, that's what your day job is for? Why hurt yourself to help other people?"

Those were all questions he'd had to ask himself before the portal destabilized. Why did he do what he does? Why risk himself to help the people who'd never thank him for his help? Why put his life on hold to do the job of adults?

He'd thought he'd had solid answers for them back then, but he wasn't so sure anymore. Regardless, this was a good place as any to start helping Nightwing.

If he could help just this one person, he'd be satisfied.

Part 3 Part 5

Tag List: @flame-343

[unfinishedslurs]

every robin gets a freebie

reverse robins in the aftermath of the death of filipe garzonas

A CD was in the mail within the next week, blank but for a note that slipped out when the envelope was opened. You should really trust in your birds more often, B. Learn from your mistakes for once. 

Jason felt bile in his throat. It was body cam footage, blurry and half obscured, of Robin and Garzonas on the roof. Footage that still clearly showed Garzonas taking a too-far step back, Robin lunging to reach him, and then…

But that’s not what happened, Jason doesn’t say. His tongue feels swollen and thick in his mouth. 

Batman takes off the cowl solemnly. “Jaylad,” he says. “Jason. I’m so sorry for doubting you. I never should have…”

He can’t be here anymore. He can’t be in this cave, can’t stand Bruce looking at him like that, can’t stand to even be in the vicinity of the Robin uniform he no longer deserves. 

He bolts for the exit.

“Jason!” he hears Bruce call, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t. Not even when he nearly runs into Alfred, not when Damian tries to grasp his arm, not when Duke asks him what’s wrong or when Tim yelps in surprise and drops his cane jumping out of the way. He just runs, out the manor door and into the night. 

For a split second the figure on the roof is overlaid with Gloria. Beautiful, resigned Gloria, who was so scared of what Felipe would do to her that she would do anything to stop it. 

Then he blinks, and he’s on the rooftop with the Spoiler. 

“Relax,” Spoiler says, “I’m not gonna jump. I'm only three steps into my five-step plan for world dominance. Can’t leave that unfinished. Imagine the paperwork.”

“I dunno.” Jason’s hands are shaking. “You seem like the kinda freak who would enjoy that.”

Spoiler lowers her mask, and Stephanie Brown smiles at him. 

“How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“You know.” His voice wavers. “You know. You know what I did. How did you…why did you…what was the reason?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes!”

“Call it tradition then, I guess.” Steph sounds almost amused. “Robin’s flock together.”

“But you don’t like me.”

“Who told you that?”

No one, but she doesn’t exactly go out of her way to talk to Jason. He just kind of assumed. 

Tim’s awkward around him. Sometimes they’re fine, like when he wandered into the library where Jason was and asked if he wanted to get ice cream together. Other times he wouldn’t see him for three weeks. Jason tries not to think about the nights Tim has had dreams that left him cackling loud enough to wake Jason up the couple times he’s stayed the night at the Nest, or the things he heard Tim shout about little birds and broken nests when he was fear gassed. 

It kind of sucks, being your brother's biggest trigger. 

(Those three weeks may be a case of mutual avoidance, but Jason will never admit it.)

When he doesn’t say anything, Steph sighs. “How much do you know about when I was Robin?”

“Uh,” he says, caught off guard, “not much, I guess?” He knows that it was because something was going on with Tim. That’s about it, really. He asked once, when he was still new to Robin and the Manor. He didn’t ask again after he saw the look on Tim’s face. 

“Bruce didn’t really want me. Damian didn’t think I was worthy of the mantle, and took every chance he could to remind me. Tim was pissed at me for it. None of them wanted me there, and I tried so hard to prove them wrong. To be the Robin I knew I could be.”

That…can’t be right. The few times he had asked about Stephanie Brown, Tim had nothing but good words to say. Bruce and Damian spent so much time wallowing in their regrets it was insane. For her to say nobody wanted her there, when her absence was a shadow that followed them constantly around Wayne Manor, was baffling. 

Steph looks down at the helmet in her hands. “All I wanted was their approval, and it made me stupid. I overestimated myself. That’s how you get killed in this game, kid. Don’t get too cocky for your britches, and all that.”

Jason is shaking again by the time they get to the Nest. He hesitates at the window, sending a pleading look to Spoiler that she completely ignores ushering him in. 

Tim spins around in his tricked out gaming chair, frown pulling oddly against the wide scars on his cheeks. He flicks his comm off. “Steph?” Then his eyes found Jason. “Jason! Thank God, we were starting to get worried about you. Duke told everyone to give you space, but…”

His mouth is too dry to say anything in response, so he just shrugs. Tim tilts his head, examining him, before looking at Spoiler questioningly. 

She takes off her mask again, lowering her hood and shaking out her hair. “We need some help,” she explains, and nudges Jason forward. 

He stays stubbornly in his place, head tilted towards the floor. Steph sighs. “If you don’t tell him,” she says, “I will.”

He whips his head around. “You promised!”

“My name is literally The Spoiler.” She bares her teeth at him. “I get that you’re nervous, kid, but I do not have time for this.”

“For what?” Tim says. God, Tim’s going to be like a dog with a bone with this. He’s never met a mystery he didn’t want to solve. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

“I killed Filipe!” He blurts out and freezes, moving immediately to hide behind Spoiler. She doesn’t let him, grabbing his shoulder and holding him firmly to the spot. 

Tim gapes at him. “You…” he trails off, slowly turning to Steph, who holds his gaze steadily. “The footage?”  

“I have connections.”

“Of course you do.” He rubs a hand over his face. “How are we playing this?

What?

“We keep going along with what’s been presented to him,” Spoiler responds without hesitation. “B’s paranoid, but he’s also the king of denial. There’s no doctoring on the tape itself, he won’t look any deeper.”

“And Damian?”

“Like he gives a shit.”

“True,” he admits. “Duke wouldn’t care enough to check either way, so that just leaves Cass.”

Steph swears. “Fuck, Cass. Do you think she’ll say something?”

“Yes. Ugh, yes she will. Fuck.”

“Think you can talk some sense into her?”

“Maybe.” He squints at Jason. “I’ll probably play up the ‘ridden by guilt’ and ‘will never happen again’ angle. He definitely reads it.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Jason finally says, lungs fighting for air. “I—I killed someone!”

“Not according to Bruce, you didn’t.” Tim tells him. 

“You want me to lie?”

“Yes.”

He looks at Steph imploringly, begging her to explain, but she doesn’t even look at him. “Chill out, kid,” she says, “We all get a freebie.”

“Damian got more than a freebie,” Tim points out. 

“He’d tell you it was his right as the blood son.”

“Stop joking!” He shouts, chest heaving for air. “Just—stop it! Why aren’t you telling Bruce? Why are you making plans to lie to him? What’s wrong with you?”

Tim exchanges a heavy look at Steph, before reaching his hand out to Jason. Jason takes it, trembling. 

“Plenty of vigilantes have to make hard choices when it comes to stopping people the law can’t touch,” he tells Jason gently. “I work with people who all choose different things. When it comes to people like Garzonas, who will keep doing it over and over with no remorse…it’s not a method I recommend, but sometimes there’s only one way to stop them. If Robin made that choice, I wouldn’t blame him.”

He can’t stop the tears from welling in his eyes, because this is Tim Drake saying it. Damian was the first Robin, yeah, and Steph left her undeniable mark with her cheer and wit, but Tim wore the mantle twice. He made it into something new, something a bit brighter in the dark nights. Then, after Steph, he made it into a memory. Bright yellow for her hair. Red for Superboy. Even after they both came back Jason wore their colors, because Robin was persistence, and spirit, and clever words followed by hard punches, and bravery and a million other things, but it was also hope and love and remembrance for the lost. 

He wouldn’t forget that. “Why are you so okay with this?”

“You know I’ve had to make that choice too.”

Jason almost laughs, but refrains. He’s heard the stories. “Never sounded like much of a choice.”

“It was.” His eyes snap to Tim’s at the sudden edge to his voice, and Tim meets his eyes carefully. “I was fully aware of what I was doing. It’s not something I’ll ever do again, but it was my choice, and I won’t have that taken from me.” 

“I don’t think I can be Robin anymore.”

“Well, we all have to give it up sometimes.”

“Are we really doing this?” Tim asks, after he thinks Jason has fallen asleep. 

Jokes on him, Jason doesn’t think he’s gonna sleep ever again. 

“Are you seriously getting cold feet now? I thought you loved lying to Bruce.”

“I don’t love lying to Bruce, it’s just—“

“‘—necessary sometimes,’” she finishes. “Whatever. Like you don’t love the thrill of it.”

Tim doesn’t bother denying it. “This isn’t just lying to B, Steph. This is—are we really going to cover up a murder?”

The room drops ten degrees. 

“If you’re not going to back me on this, we can go somewhere else. Don’t want you getting your hands dirty or anything,” she sneers. 

“You know I’ve always got your back,” Tim says. Jason thinks back to what Spoiler told him earlier about her time as Robin, and wonders if that might not be as irrefutable a truth as he’d always thought it was. “I’m worried about Jason.”

“You wouldn’t need to be if you would just help him out—“

“You saw him. The kid looks like a ghost. He looks like I did. Don’t—no, Steph, I’m serious. I’m worried about him. At least I didn’t have to hide that I killed the Joker. You think keeping this bottled up will be good for him? It’s going to kill him.”

“The alternative is telling Batman that his precious Robin killed someone. You remember how that went last time?”

There’s a long pause, and then he hears Tim hiss an exhalation behind clenched teeth. “Don’t bring that into this. Jason’s not me.”

“That’s the fucking problem. You were his golden boy—“

“Seriously? You think I was the golden boy?”

“I’m hardly his favorite,” Tim scoffs. “Jason is.”

There’s a shocked silence. Then Stephanie scoffs. “You can’t seriously be jealous.“

“I’m trying to tell you it’ll be different from me. Have you seen him with Jason?” He waits, but Steph doesn’t answer. “He laughs. He laughs, he smiles, he’s fucking…happy. Jason makes him happy. I never did that. None of us ever—“

“Jesus, Tim,” Steph says roughly. “You made him plenty happy. Damian, Cass, Duke, you all make him laugh—“

“Not like Jason does.”

“You willing to risk the kid on that?”

A beat, and Tim sighs. “No. But it’s different now. Jason has us. All of us. It wouldn’t be like last time.”

“Jason’s not me.” He pauses, almost like he’s debating what he’ll say next, before he says, “He’s not you, either.”

Steph stays silent for so long Jason wonders if she climbed out the window and left. 

Finally, she exhales. “He’s not you, and he’s not me,” she agrees, “but Bruce is always going to be Bruce.”

They sit in silence for a long moment. Finally Steph speaks up. “Are you really jealous of him?”

“No, Steph. Jesus.”

“You’re such a liar.” It’s affectionate this time, though, clearly poking fun. 

Tim sighs, heavier than the teasing warrants. “It’s not him. It’s not him, and it’s not you, I just…I was never able to give up Robin on my own terms. I never…I never got to feel like I was putting it down. It never stopped feeling like—“

Stephanie doesn’t say anything. Eventually, one of the chairs slides back, and Jason hears a cane clacking on the ground. A cabinet opens. “Did you want coffee?”

“What happened to those awful sodas you were addicted to?”

“I assumed you wouldn’t want one,” Tim responds, voice dry. There’s no indication of their discussion in either of their tones. “Considering the first thing you ever did in this apartment was go through all my stuff and make fun of my taste.”

“Fuck it. I’m feeling abominable tonight, I should have something to fit the mood.”

“Shut up.” The fridge opens and shuts, and there’s a quiet thunk like a hand catching something out of midair. Then two drinks crack open. 

“God, I forgot how awful these were.”

(some undetermined amount of time later)

Bruce: Dick you can’t kill Tony Zucco. Batman and Robin do not kill.

Dick: Steph said Robin gets a freebie >:(

Bruce: 

Bruce:

Bruce: STEPHANIE-

[dominimoonbeam]

I'm rejecting the word widower. It's never made sense to me and I decline to use it. If a man's spouse died, he has been widowed. He is a widow.

A widower should be a person who makes widows.

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

I've said this when Oscar replaced Daniel, when Franco replaced Logan, and when Liam replaced Daniel, and I'll say it again now that it's been officially announced that Liam has the red bull seat:

Drivers are not responsible for the shitty decisions of team principals and the actual decision makers behind the scenes. Don't like the decision? That is absolutely fine, but get mad at the people who actually made the decision. Leave the driver, who took a job, alone.

You'd swear Liam was a freaking cartoon villain right now. I'm pretty sure this who y'all are describing instead of him:

[mikkeneko]

2025 new years' resolution: 2025 will be the year I reverse my Firefox and Chrome usages