Damian, handing Bruce a piece of paper with a very neat calendar on it: father, I will be taking a step back from my participation in our nightly patrols. I have carefully considered factors such as, but not limited to, school tests, most likely days for breakouts and when other people will be available. Here is my schedule.
Bruce: any particular reason you are stepping back from Robin?
Damian: I have reached an acceptable age and am by far mature enough, so I will be participating in Ramadan this year, father. Afterwards I will pick my duties up as normal, but with changed sleeping and eating patterns, this is the most logical step for now.
Bruce, who grew up with a jewish mother and christian father who were intent to raise him on some weird mix of the two, then a second father who was atheist, proceeded to lose his entire way in any form of religion due to losing himself in his teen years, took in Jewish boy, then a catholic one with religious trauma, then an atheist one who had no idea how to even approach the idea of religion, followed up by a pagan girl and already making seven different mental lists of things he will need to research, how to add aspects of Islam into their weird family holidays and trying desperately to show his support for his son: ....hnn
Damian: thank you father
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pt 2 to that one hobie blurb (there's slight smut so be warned)
gwen stacy is a better house guest than you expected.
she lacks some social awareness, yeah (like the many times she'd left her dirty dishes littering around the living room instead of bringing them to the kitchen) (or those times where she did bring them to the kitchen, but she opted out of rinsing them off before placing them in the sink), but she's a teenager who's trying her best.
she's polite, she tries to stay out of your way, she puts herself last on the shower rotation which almost makes up for the sizable dent she's put in your products, but she's a kid. a sweet, good natured kid, who brought you an entire six pack of your yogurt after she found out it was yours.
but no matter how nice of a house guest gwen was, you still missed your space, and your yoga pants, and your privacy.
it's the thing you miss the most.
because anytime you think you're alone, anytime you think you finally have hobie to yourself, she's waltzing through the door already starting conversation about something she'd seen in your dimension.
like the time where you were straddling hobie on the couch, gwen's belongings gone so you thought she was too, and things were getting hot. his hands were under your shirt, gripping your tits, your hands were fumbling for the buckle on his many belts, and you were grinding into him, moans barely muffled against his lips.
but then footsteps were coming from the bathroom and the sound of a toothbrush against teeth met your ears, right before gwen's squeal did the same.
or the time where it was late at night, and you and hobie had gone to bed after making it three quarters of the way through some movie gwen brought from her dimension, and hobie had his hands pushed down your pajama pants, fingers starting to push your lips apart, but then three knocks met the door.
"hobie! your scanners going off. think it's something important."
and yeah, hobie's had to leave mid-sex before to deal with something usually kingpin related, but he always came back in due time with an apology on his lips before you were on them. that night, though, he didn't come back until the morning and it seemed like he'd forgotten about your denied orgasm.
so naturally, you're a little upset with your circumstances. moping around, excusing yourself when you three are in a room together, sleeping with your back to hobie. it's a bit childish, and you rethink your approach for a while, but it gets hobie's attention. and it gets you what you want.
alone time with hobie. time that you spend moaning and whining and whimpering as loud as you want.
and the next day when you wake up, happier than usual, a yogurt in your hand and a smile on your face, you're a little sad to see gwen packing her things up. but she smiles at you, and you smile at her, and you have her in a hug, reminding yourself that she's just a kid, as you wish her well and tell her that the door's always open.
(which, you hope she doesn't take too literally)
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