#(tim does not take krypto for a walk. krypto takes tim for a walk.)

[mamawasatesttube]

revisiting a funny concept here. i think krypto has a mental ranking of the bats and its something like this:

kon. kon isn't a bat? krypto doesn't care kon is his favorite ever!!!

dick. actively enjoys and encourages krypto to toss him around in the air. will sit on the floor and hold out his arms and let krypto bowl him over. also he's clark's favorite so he gets EXTRA bonus points.

tim. squeaky toy. goes "eep!" when he gets tossed around. kon's favorite of the bats, which has a significant influence on krypto's opinion.

cass. kon's other favorite bat, but loses points slightly because one time she ate one of krypto's treats in front of him and he never forgave, never forgot.

damian. loves dogs. often has treats. often smells like other dogs. gives good ear scritches.

steph. also gives good ear scritches and is niceys to him. doesn't have treats as often as damian though.

babs. niceys to him, but he doesn't particularly see her often. her voice modulators make him do the head tilts.

bruce. clark likes him well enough but krypto thinks he smells weird. he also wears so much black and complains about white dog hair.

alfred. he doesn't like dog hair, dog slobber, or being licked on the back of the head at superspeed. fuck this guy. krypto will stare him down and lift his leg against an antique couch, see if he doesn't.

[spider-jaysart]

Headcanons for my Batkids Young age au part 4:

Batkids ages:

Damian: 5 years old

Tim: 9 years old

Jason: 12 years old

Duke: 7 years old

Cassandra: 8 years old

Stephanie: 9 years old

Dick: 15 years old

Superkids ages:

Jon: 5 years old

Kon: 9 years old

Little Damian is easy to distract with the animal discovery channel since he loves it, due to his trait of being an animal lover, especially cartoon shows that have animals as characters in it, but if anyone tries to steal the living room remote and change the channel, he will get upset and give a really big tantrum until they change it back

Jon tried pretending to be a puppy one time after wondering what it was like for Krypto, so he would always be trying to make cute little fake barks, eating his food with his mouth instead of his hands or fork and spoon (though, Lois made sure to remind him about table manners), and he would also always be playing with Krypto outside in the backyard on his hands and feet too, running around all over the dirty ground like that, which would dirty him and his clothes up, giving Clark and Lois extra, unnecessary laundry to do. Though, thankfully for his parents after almost a month of this little act of his, Jon stopped doing it after deciding that he liked living like a human better

All of the Batkids always ask Dick for piggyback rides

When Kon had came over to meet baby Jon for the first time, he was a little jealous at first at the thought of a sibling taking over his place as the new child in the family but after finally meeting Jon, those bitter emotions left him and he instantly grew to love the little half Kryptonian. He also began to enjoy spending time with little Jon, enjoying their fun times together, he later on realized that maybe having a sibling instead of being an only child probably wasn't so bad after all

Damian likes to paint on Tim's face sometimes when he's asleep and hides once he wakes up, since he'll know that it was definitely him, since it's not the first time that he usually does this to his big brother

Duke has a favorite lion plushie that helps him feel safe whenever he's having a nightmare or can't sleep at night. Though, during a loud stormy night outside the Manor, Duke, after going downstairs with his plushie to go grab some of Alfred's delicious chocolate chip cookies, bumped into little Damian in the hallway upstairs. He could see that the boy that was usually a tough one, was slightly shaking and had a bit of an almost fearful expression on his face. Duke, who was curious, asked his little brother what he was doing walking around the halls so late, though, Damian, who didn't want to look like a coward, just replied saying that he was just looking for Titus since he had left the room. Duke knew he wasn't being honest though, since he had seen the puppy peacefully sound asleep in the boy wonders bedroom while passing by after coming upstairs and before he could say anything about it, a loud thunder struck outside, creating a loud sound, made Damian jump in front of Duke, revealing how scared he was feeling, so after seeing the reaction of his little brother, he asks him if he's scared of the thunderstorm that's going on, but Damian cuts him off, telling him that he is being ridiculous, since he isn't afraid of anything, which Duke knew wasn't really true at the moment. After a few seconds of Damian still trying to deny that he was actually scared while Duke was telling him that he obviously was, Damian jumped up in fear once again, due to another thunder strike that had happened at that very moment, so Duke, who can see that he was obviously scared, gives Damian his favorite trusted lion plushie and hands him one of the cookies that he had gotten from downstairs, telling Damian "Here, you can have Liony, he's good at protecting you when you're scared." Damian, hesitantly, as he's hugging Liony the plushie tightly in his arms, asks Duke "But what about you? How are you gonna fall asleep without him?", since he knows that it's his favorite plushie, but Duke tells him that he will be fine and that he needs him more than he does and that's what Liony is there for anyways, to make sure everyone's safe. He also offers that if he wanted, he could sleep in his room for the night if he wanted and and that they could even hang out the whole night while he holds onto Liony, which Damian accepts. So they spend the whole night in Duke's room having a fun time together, building a little fort with the beds pillows and blanket sheets, then sitting in it with their flash lights on once they're done, while eating their chocolate chip cookies, talking and quietly laughing the whole night together. Later on in the early morning, Bruce and Alfred, while checking up on the two young brothers in the room, see the sweet sight of them both asleep in their fort together, both hugging eachother and Liony the brave plushie who was in the middle. A warm smile grows on both of the men's faces as they both quietly leave the room and gently close the door so that they won't wake them from their peaceful sleep

@theredheaded-stuff @paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 @camo-wolf

[undertheknightwing]

*slides in* Sup Fam, any fall headcanons for GarJon

You know I got headcanons for anything and everything! ✨️ it's a blessing and a curse really...

These aren't all GarJon focused, but are all fall/Halloween focused since I got more hcs that way

- The Kents go on a yearly fall hike + picnic as a family tradition someday in October and invited Gar one year because "you're a part of the family". Gar saw that day as one of the best of his life, he honestly thought of it as the most fun he had that year.

I like to hc that Clark is a bird guy, he knows a lot about them from research and watching, so that fact mixed with Gar's ability to be a walking nat geo wild, made them challenge each other to who could recognize the most birds on the hike. Clark won btw, Gar got too distracted with whatever nonsense Jon and Jordan got into.

And after that day, Gar was invited too almost every Kent Family adventure.. until he didn't need an invitation, of course. Once he's Garfield Kent, he didn’t need to be invited to his own family trip.

- Some day before Halloween Gar made it his mission to scare the shit out of Rachel, Tim, and Jordan since they're always calling him a softie, but knows he can't do it alone or just shapeshift into an animal since they'll know it's him so he gets in contact with someone to help. A very special someone.

So during the Smallville Halloween Hay Ride that takes a path along a lone back dirt road, a horse being rode by a man with a pumpkin head who breathes fire 'attacks' the hay ride and of course terrified everyone because it was too real to just be a Halloween prank and technically they'd be right. After everything is said and done, the headless horse man rides off and the hay ride returns, the kids go to tell the adults what happened only to find Gar waiting for them with a shit-eating grin on his face. They quickly realized the whole thing was Gar's plan to get back at them.

After he confirms he was the horse, they ask who the guy was and the pumpkin headed man seemingly appears out of no where then removes the pumpkin to reveal: Jon-El, which definitely shocks everyone but also makes Jon (who was in on everything, but wasn't aware Gar was working with someone) just a tiny.. wee bit.. jealous.

- The kids first Halloween together wasn't as spooky and slightly revenge filled as that one, it was just a good ol fashion trick or treat night. Jon was his own version of Fred Jones, Jordan was Sam Winchester, Rachel was a space themed witch to match the nickname Kory gave her, and Gar was an actual werewolf like monster. Gar got a lot of candy for how "realistic" his costume was.

The amount of times Jon said "Alright gang" that night was crazy.

- Gar carves a paw paint shape into his pumpkin while Jon carves a classic cartoon-y alien head into his and both think it's funny that their neighbors have no idea how accurate those two things are when they see the pumpkins set on the front porch.

- Gar's favorite movie to watch during Halloween is Coraline, but that's as creepy as it can get for him. Jon doesn't have any issues with horror movies, though he does think sci-fi/alien themed horror movies are dumb.. hm, I wonder why.

- Gar bakes the best damn cookies you will ever taste and that fact goes for all holidays, but his frosted Halloween ones seem to be a favorite.

- For some reason, he has no idea why, Jon is freaked out by scarecrows so cornmazes are not a go-to Halloween thing. And neither him nor Gar like to be trapped in small spaces or feel lost so that just adds to the no-go of cornmazes. That doesn't stop the crop circle jokes though.

- Until they had their own kids, Gar and Jon would dress up Krypto and walk around the neighborhood with her during Halloween night. The neighbors were very impressed they one, somehow dressed up a cat and two, trained her to only walk alongside them. Krypto in fact wasn't trained, she just does that. Occasionally she'll chase after a leaf.

- Speaking of their kids: because their son was born in October and is technically a vampire, Gar and Jon dressed Pax up in a bat onesie for his official first Halloween. The neighbors thought it was adorable and pointed out how cute his tiny fake fangs were, which made GarJon chuckle nervously since Pax's fangs aren't fake and how the hell are they gonna explain that in November.

[jadedsnowtiger]

Pure love between Conner and Tim.

"I brought you a present."

Tim turned to the window, as Conner climbed through it. Conner was holding a box, with his grin, and leather jacket- who could resist that?

Tim did need a break, and Rachel was re-reading his Russian homework, so he had to wait.

"It's a school night-" Tim looked around, his room was empty, but the door was opened- stupid rules.

"Close your eyes. Quick." Conner asked softly, as he walked forward holding something between his hands.

"I am too young to be married off." Tim shighed with a smile, as Conner approached he grew more excited.

"Oh, this is better." Conner smiled softly, "Trust me?"

"Always." Tim nodded, as he stood up. Tim would walk though fire, for this man.

"Close your eyes." Conner asked again, as he moved forward.

Tim closed his eyes, stimming in excitement, as he felt Conner move behind him hugging him tightly. Before placing something in his palms.- it moved.

"Open your eyes."

Tim raised his eyebrow, as he held out his hand, before opening his eyes in fear of seeing a mouse.

A gray chick stained back at him, blinking.

"Is this a chicken?" Tim asked, almost excited, as he looked down to the yellow one.

"It's a male." Conner corrected him, wrapping his arms around Tim's waist. "It's a Rooster."

"An evil one?" Tim turned around excited, as he held the chick.

"The most evil - we had no idea there was a baby even in the pen, until Krypto found him." Conner spoke excitedly, "He magically appeared in the chicken hutt this morning."

"It's a boy?" Tim looked up excited, as he pressed the chick to his cheek, and kissed it. "You're a little boy? Aww, look at you."

"It's a boy." Conner smiled, rocking Tim in his arms.

"Our first child!" Tim looked up with stars in his eyes.

"Well, you did refuse my proposal- when I came through the door." Conner teased, as Tim looked up blushing. "So I'll entrap you with chicken instead."

Tim broke out into laughter, as he kissed Conner lips, hugging the baby Rooster to his chest.

"How will I tell Bruce, we are parents now?" Tim asked softly. "Who gets custody, does he live at the farm or at the mansion?"

"How about we chose a name, first?" Conner smiled. "And he will live at the farm with the other chickens, I will bring him whenever you need him- or John will bring him for me- can I put a chicken though the Zeta tubes?"

Tim looked up. "We put Ace through it."

"Emergency chicken run." Conner kissed his temple, as Tim laughed. "Chicken by tube!"

"I can't believe you got me a chicken!" Tim cooed, as he looked up. "I can't wait to use him as an alarm clock- if BatCow is off Limits, RedRooster is as well."

"Thank god." Conner shighed, as he looked to him. "I thought it would end up being Batcock."

Tim looked up, as his life ran before his eyes.

"RedRocket!"

"No." Conner shook his head.

"RedRocket to the rescue." Tim looked up, as he broke into laughter.

"When was the last time you slept?" Conner asked nervously.

"It's been a while." Tim looked up, he must have been tired to forget to lie.

"Okay, let's put the baby in a box." Conner kissed his forehead. "You can rename him, once you sleep for an hour."

Tim looked up, hugging the chicken to his face, making him adorable "I don't wanna!"

"Well, I guess you don't wanna cuddle then." Conner shighed, using reverse psychology on him.

"Cuddle me!" Tim pouted, as he hugged his baby chicken close. "Cuddle us!"

"He will shit on your silk sheets." Conner reminded him, as he held out his hand to take the chicken.

Tim looked torn, but handed the chicken over.

"He's just going back in the box, he is safe there until I bring his cage tomorrow." Conner told him gently, as he placed the chicken in a safe location. "Come here, sweet boy."

Tim blushed, as Conner lead him to the bed, pulling back the blankets before fucking Tim in with a kiss, before stripping off his farm cloths and climbing in before him. Cuddling Tim close as he kissed his lover.

"We have chicken!" Tim cooed excitedly.

"We do." Conner laughed, kissing Tim

[ragingbookdragon]

The Daughter Of Superman, The Adopted Son Of Batman...What Could Go Wrong? PT. 1

Jason Todd x Kryptonian!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.8K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I totally forgot about this one! If you like how cute and fluffy it is, just wait for PT. 2! It gets angsty >:) -Thorne

**********************************************************************

They were pretty lazy teenagers when they weren’t busy saving the world with super speed, strength, and smarts. Even if their textbooks were spread all over his bed they were still too lazy to actually do their homework, instead scrolling through social media apps and trolling all the citizens of San Francisco about the identities of the Young Justice Team.

She glanced up from the advanced calculus textbook and stared at the boy laying across her thighs. “Tim, isn’t your dad hosting a gala this weekend?” he hummed in response, and she asked, “Are we allowed to come?”

He didn’t bother looking up from the tablet he was tapping at and nodded. “Yeah. Bruce already added your names to the list, (Y/N).” a flicker of a smile came over his lips and he added, “Of course I had to wear him down in order to get Bart on the list.”

She looked over at their speedster and grinned. “I’m kinda surprised Bruce actually let you on the list Bart.”

A shocked expression etched across his face and he questioned, “Why do you say that?”

(Y/N) shifted Tim’s head, smiling as he grunted from being moved, and rose from the bed, walking over to the minifridge. She pulled out a soda before jumping back on the bed. “Because between you, Tim, Conner, and me, you’re the one who gets us into the most trouble.” She shifted Tim’s head back into her lap, petting his hair until he smiled.

“I do not!”

“Oh really? Do you remember prom night? It’s been almost two years and they stillcall us and talk about the absolute mess we—well, you caused.”

“That cake wasn’t there when I started running, I swear!” he pointed at Tim. “Tim it wasn’t! You know that!”

The others cackled at his protest, and (Y/N) glanced at Conner. “You gonna bring M’Gann?”

A faint pink tinged his cheeks, and he shifted his gaze down at his physics textbook. “Uh…maybe.”

(Y/N) leaned forward, poking his cheek. “Your heart’s beating pretty fast, little brother.”

He swatted her hand and glared at her. “Shove off.”

She snorted and glanced at Tim. “What about you, Timbers? You going to go with Stephanie?”

“Steph and I aren’t dating anymore, (Y/N).”

“For now. But you two like each other.” She smiled and singsonged, “She’s your first love~”

“What about you?” Tim scowled. “Who’s your date?”

She grunted at him and laid flat in the bed, Bart’s legs under her back. “Are you kidding me? You know my dad won’t let me get a boyfriend, let alone a date to a gala for a night.”

“You’re nineteen, (Y/N). I think you’re allowed to start dating.”

“And my parents help pay for part of my utilities. Does it look like I’m going to do anything to tip that delicate balance of not having to pay for all that?” she sighed. “Dad’s always been that way when it comes to me.”

“Daddy’s little girl.” Conner grinned.

(Y/N) grunted and reached over, shoving Conner off the bed. “Don’t call me that. I am not a daddy’s girl.”

The others laughed at her and Tim quipped, “Yes, you are. You two go on father-daughter dates every month and take pictures to show everyone.” She glared at him and he smiled, continuing, “Maybe we can find a date for you at the gala.”

“You can try. But mom and dad are going to be there. If dad sees me with a boy, he’s liable to lose his mind.” The others laughed again, and (Y/N) rested her head down on Bart’s lap. “I need a dress, Timmy.”

He glanced over at her and tapped a few buttons before showing her the screen. “How does this look?”

(Y/N) took the tablet from him and looked over it, taking in the image of the navy-blue dress. “I like the color, but this is a Cinderella dress. Give me something not as…poofy.” He nodded and took the tablet back, tapped on it, then handed it back to her. “Hmm…too booby.” The other two boys giggled at her answer and Tim sighed, taking the tablet again.

He handed it back to her once more and she looked at the dress. “Mermaid silhouette…sheer side…strappy back…” She glanced up at Tim and nodded. “Got a pair of shoes to match?” He hummed and she grinned. “Then I’ll take it. Thanks Timbers.” He nodded once more, and she nudged Bart. “Oi Allen.”

“What?”

“Don’t run into the cake at the gala, okay? It’ll probably cost more than you.”

“It was an accident! Stop bringing it up!” The others simply laughed at him.

***At The Kent Farm***

“Mom! Dad! Jon! I’m home!” She shut the door behind her and turned, catching Jon who’d launched himself at her. “Kid you’re getting too big to do that.” He laughed at her and she let him down, ruffling his hair. “Where’s mom and dad?”

“Out back with Krypto.” He tugged on her sweatshirt. “Did you bring me anything from the tower, sissy? Did ya? Did ya?”

(Y/N) snorted and rummaged in her pocket, pulling out one of Tim’s crimson shurikens. “Tim gave this to me to give to you.” She handed it to him but held it when he reached for it, “Do not,” she warned firmly, “cut yourself with this or mom and dad will make you give it back after they finish tearing me a new one for giving it to you.”

“I won’t!” he promised and she watched his eyes light up in wonder when he took it. She ruffled his hair once more before walking towards the backdoor.

She stepped outside and saw her dad throwing a ball with Krypto, her mom watching from the back porch; she walked over and leaned down, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Hey, mom.”

Lois glanced up at her and smiled. “Hey, sweetheart. You’re home early.”

(Y/N) nodded, sitting down beside her. “School let out for the week, and we didn’t have any missions from the Justice League, so I figured I’d spend a few days here instead of cooped up in the tower.”

“I’m glad you decided to come home, hon. It’s always nice when you come back.”

She looked up and saw Clark walking towards her. “Hey, dad.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Hey sweetheart, how were the boys?”

“They’re good. We did our usual thing.”

Clark sat on her other side. “Collapse on Tim’s bed and lay around like lethargic teenagers?”

(Y/N) snorted and shoved his shoulder lightly. “We were productive young adults. We finished over-break assignments and reports. Well…mostly. Still got that thirty page physics paper I have to write but…I’ll let that stew awhile.”

He chuckled. “Anything else happen today?”

“Talked about the gala this weekend.” She paused. “You guys are coming too, right?” They nodded and (Y/N) laid back on the porch, pulling out her phone. “Ugh…I remember how badly the Wi-Fi sucked out here. I don’t have any service at all.” She looked at her mom. “I don’t how a journalist like you manages to live in the middle of nowhere like this and still stay sane.”

Lois snorted and thumped her leg. “It’s called satellite service. Now c’mon, let’s go inside. Dinner should be done by now.” (Y/N) rose from the porch and they all began walking in when the sound and feel of rushing air came over them. She and Clark immediately spun, ready to defend themselves when they saw Conner hovering in the sky.

His eyebrows were drawn in slight concern. “(Y/N)! We need you!”

She nodded, shucking off her sweatshirt and pants, revealing the blue suit underneath. The crimson cape billowed around her and she glanced up at him. “What’s the situation?”

“We’ve got simultaneous bank robberies all over SF. Bart and Tim are already on the first few. I came to get you.”

(Y/N) turned to her parents. “Rain check on dinner guys.” She turned in the direction of San Fransisco, eyes darting wildly as she viewed her teammates positions. After a second, she nodded. “I’ve got em, Bart’s on the east, Tim’s on south. You take north and I’ll take west.”

He nodded and she shot up from the ground. They were almost in San Francisco when her father’s voice reached her. “Be careful, (Y/N).”

She curled her fists when the bank doors came into view and responded, “Always am, dad.”

***

“The dress looks fine, (Y/N).”

She glanced up at Tim who was smiling at her; she let out a sigh, letting go of the side strap she’d been tugging, still semi-uncomfortable with how it fit. “I know it does. But I feel like it’s still a little…grown up for me. I’ve never had a dress this open in the back or the sides since…ever.” The boys laughed and she smiled at Bart and Conner. “I forgot how well you two cleaned up.”

Bart pulled at both sides of the bowtie and winked at her, while Conner merely grunted, “I still hate tuxedos.”

“You’re definitely going to hate the long hours of your wedding then.” They laughed once more, and the car pulled around the venue.

Tim looked at them and grinned. “Show time, lady and gents.” They followed him out of the limo, grinning at the cameras as they walked inside.

Immediately, the view made her eyes go wide and she gaped. “Damn…this place is…really big.”

Tim shrugged nonchalantly, “I dunno, the ballroom in Wayne manor is bigger, but definitely more expensive.”

Bart shook his head. “Tim, my dude…we live on minimum wage not a billionaire’s salary.” (Y/N) and Conner simply nodded, still dumbfounded at the sheer size.

Tim rolled his eyes and looked around. “There’s Bruce and the others.”

She glanced in the direction he was looking and she saw her parents with Bruce. “Looks like mom and dad are busy chatting.” The others nodded and she turned to Tim. “What exactly are we supposed to do at a gala?”

“Have fun?” (Y/N) heaved a sigh and stared at him until he said, “You dance and drink and eat. That’s all you do.” He waved his hands. “Go knock yourselves out.”

They started to fan out when (Y/N) called out to them. “Wait!” They paused, turning back around. “We should go talk to Bruce and tell him thanks for inviting us.” They nodded and followed Tim over to Bruce.

He saw them coming and turned, holding out his hand to her. “Good to see you, (Y/N). You look wonderful this evening.”

Her cheeks warmed at the compliment and she smiled, giving his hand a firm shake. “It’s good to see you too, Mister Wayne, you don’t look too bad yourself. Thank you for inviting us to the gala.” The others shook his hand, and she turned to her parents. “Hey mom, dad.”

Lois walked around her and squealed, “You look so beautiful!”

(Y/N) cleared her throat, feeling her cheeks warm as the others smiled in her direction. “Mom…chill out, you’re embarrassing me.” She merely laughed but stepped back over to Clark’s side and (Y/N) looked around. “Bart have you—and he’s already at the buffet table.” Snickers sounded behind her and she sighed. “I’m going to make sure that the bottomless pit doesn’t devour all your food before your guests can eat, Mister Wayne.”

They watched her walk off and when she got over to the table Bart was standing in front of, she saw him shoving food in his mouth. “Oh my god…Bart, what are you doing?”

He turned to her, and swallowed, a sheepish smile crossing his face. “I haven’t eaten anything today,” he licked his thumb clean. “I’m hungry.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and sighed. “Just try not to eat your fingers, would you?”

He snorted and pointed to an appetizer. “You should try the pigs-in-a-blanket. They’ve got this sauce on top that’s just—.”

A low voice cut him off. “They have pigs-in-a-blanket! What!” They turned to see a young man a couple years older than them reaching over. “The old man’s never had something this plain at a gala.” He popped one in his mouth, then turned to them. “You’re Timberly’s friends, right?”

They nodded and (Y/N) gazed, something about him tugging at her mind. “I know you from somewhere.” She stared into his teal eyes and suddenly she remembered where she knew him from; she’d never forget those teal eyes and how angry they’d been. “You’re Jason Todd, aren’t you? Bruce’s second son.”

He grinned. “That’s me. Have you and I met before? I have to agree with you, because you look really familiar.”

(Y/N) glared at him and crossed her arms, spitting. “We met in the Hall of Fallen Titans three years ago.”

Jason’s eyes briefly widened, before they narrowed in amusement. “You’re the one who threw me out the third story window after I kicked Timber’s ass.” He chuckled. “You don’t have to worry about all that, doll. Timmy and I are good now. You can ask the speedster about it.”

She continued to glower at him until Bart leaned over, propping his chin on her shoulder. “He’s telling the truth, (Y/N). Tim told me a while back that he and Jason are brothers now.”

Jason nodded and she finally stopped glaring at him. “Just so you know Jason, I can still throw people out windows.”

He smiled and held out a hand, watching her place hers in it; he brought her hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, doll.”

Bart poked her side and grinned. “I’m gonna go see Tim and Conner. I’ll leave you two alone.”

He wandered off and (Y/N) pulled her hand back. “So, why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

Jason chuckled. “Oh, I was. I got better. We just made up a story about me getting lost, yadda yadda yadda, I’m not important.” He propped his elbow on the wall above her and grinned. “But what is important, is how pretty you look in your dress.”

(Y/N) cocked a brow. “Is that supposed to flatter me?”

“Is it not?”

“It could be a little better.”

He laughed and she found herself smiling along with him. He nodded towards the balcony. “Wanna get some air?”

She nodded, and they walked out into the night. (Y/N) gazed up at the stars and sighed in wonder. “There’s billions of them out there…I’ve never tried to leave earth and go search for them on my own.”

Jason leaned on the railing and gazed at her. “How come?”

(Y/N) shrugged, leaning against the railing too. “Dad’s full Kryptonian…me and Jon are, to use a less than favorable term, half-breeds.” She paused. “I’m not sure if I would survive like dad does out in space.”

“Won’t know ‘til you try.”

She huffed a laugh and looked at him. “If I’m wrong, I might die.”

“And if you try and you’re right, you won’t be dead.”

She shook her head at him, a smile playing at her lips. “You’ve got answers to everything, don’t you, Jason?”

He grinned at her. “I find that being sharp and witty helps with the crowds, doll.” The music sounded from inside the ballroom, and he stepped back, offering her a hand. “May I have this dance?”

(Y/N) rested her hand in his, feeling him pull her close, his other hand resting on her lower back; it was warm against her open skin and she cleared her throat. “I should warn you, I can’t dance to save my life.”

A cocky smirk crossed his lips and he leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. “I can take the lead, doll…all you have to do is give it to me.”

“Your flirtations need work too.”

Jason chuckled in her ear, making her shiver as he pulled back. “I don’t think they do.”

“Arrogance isn’t attractive, Jason.”

“Mhm.”

“It isn’t.”

“I heard you the first time, doll.” As they swayed to the music, he asked, “So, how’d you and Nerd-bird become friends?”

“We met through Conner.”

“The clone?”

“My brother.”

“Sorry.”

“He introduced the two of us, and we’ve been friends ever since.”

“Only friends? Nothing more?”

It was (Y/N)’s turn to smirk and she looked at him. “Are you asking because you want to know if there’s competition?”

He stopped moving and they stood still, her in his arms. “Just want to know if there’s anyone between me and first place.”

She huffed a laugh. “God, you’re something else.” Her eyes found his and she asked, “Do you want to get out of here?”

Jason nodded and stepped back, holding out his hand. “Where do you want to go?”

(Y/N) smirked and stepped forward, closing the distance he’d created, and wrapped an arm around his waist. His teal eyes widened, and she looked back at the party; no one noticed them, and she turned back to face him, “Up, up, and away.” They flew upwards, and she felt him latch onto her. “Why are you acting like I’m going to drop you, Jason?”

He made a waring noise in his throat. “I have a friend who’s an Amazon, and she is…very fond of throwing and dropping me.”

(Y/N) giggled. “Sounds like we’d get along spectacularly. She likes dropping you…I like throwing you out of windows…”

“That was one time. And you caught me when I was off-guard.”

“Uh huh, sure. You got your ass kicked by a sixteen-year-old and I think you’re just bitter.”

He grumbled at her. “Rub it in, why don’t you, doll.” She laughed and lowered them down; their feet hit the roof and he looked at it. “Wayne Enterprises? Why?”

She shrugged. “Cool tower…nice view.” She took a seat on the ledge, listening to him sit beside her.

He leaned over. “Almost romantic…don’t you think?”

(Y/N) eyed him, seeing a goofy smile on his face; she snorted, shoving him lightly. “You’re cheesy.”

“So I’ve been told.”

She glanced back at the water. “You know if this goes anywhere, my dad and your dad aren’t going to be happy.”

Jason snorted, nonchalantly replying, “Doll, there’s a few things I’m afraid of in life. Superman and Batman…are not those things.”

“Is that arrogance or confidence I hear coming through?”

He shrugged. “Probably a bit of both.”

(Y/N) smiled, then she felt his hand rest on hers, letting him link their fingers; she turned her face to him. “Is this the part where you tell me I’m beautiful and ask to kiss me?”

Jason grinned. “No, this is actually the part where I tell you you’re drop dead gorgeous…can I kiss you?”

She giggled, leaning in, and just before his lips brushed hers, she whispered, “You know I can kick your ass, right?”

He groaned. “Should I mention that strong women really do wonders to me?”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and brought her free hand up, curling in his shirt. “Shut up and kiss me, Jason.”

“With pleasure.” His lips met hers, and she felt him bring his hand up, cupping her cheek. She pulled back ever-so-slightly, but he chased her, pressing his lips to hers again. He let go of her hand and brought his other hand up. He lowered her down until (Y/N)’s back was flat against the ledge; the chill from the stone made her arch her back off it, and press into his chest.

Jason pulled away slightly and smirked at her. “Cold?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “If you want to keep making out, jokes aren’t going to do the job.” He snorted at her and leaned forward again, intent on kissing her senseless when someone cleared their throat, startling them.

They sat up quick as lightning, turning in the direction of the sound. “I wondered where my daughter had flown off to.”

“Oh my god,” she hissed and covered her face with her hands. “Dad. C’mon…seriously?” Clark stepped onto the ledge and walked towards them.

Jason leaned down, whispering, “Is he going to throw me off the ledge?”

This made her giggle despite trying not to and she shoved him. “Shut up, Jason.”

He grinned at her and rose from his position, standing in front of her father. “Mister Kent.”

“That’s my daughter.”

“Oh, I know it is. I still remember how she threw me out of a building a few years ago. I get teary thinking about it.”

The corner of Clarks mouth rose, but then dipped back down, and (Y/N) stood up. “Dad, I’m nineteen. This whole, ‘daddy’s little girl can’t date’ bit, is getting old.” A hurt look crossed his face and she stepped forward, taking his hand. “To you, I’ll always be your little girl, dad. But sooner or later you’ve gotta come to grips with me dating and having…mature relationships.”

Clark held her gaze, then glanced at Jason who grinned and gave a thumbs up. “Does it have to be one of his kids? I mean if it’s going to be, I like Tim.”

“Ew, gross. Tim’s my best friend.”

“What about Dick?”

“Nice butt, but he and Kori are dating.” She paused and smiled at him. “The only one left is Jason, dad.”

Clark eyed Jason once more, then Jason offered, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m slightly afraid of your daughter.”

He sighed. “Thank you, Jason. I can tell.” Turning to her, he cupped her cheek. “It feels like yesterday I was bringing you home for the first time.”

“Dad…stop…we don’t need sentimentality right now.”

Clark hummed and smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead; he turned to Jason and leveled him with a hard look. “I don’t think I need to warn you about what happens if you make her sad.”

Jason gave him a mock salute. “Chances are I’ll be in ICU after I was thrown out a building.”

“Oh my god. Let that go.”

They laughed, and Clark rose from the rooftop. “I’ll need to get back to the party. Don’t do anything crazy.”

They waved him off and (Y/N) turned to Jason. “Do you want to get something to eat?”

He nodded. “There’s a pizza shop down the block from here.”

“Sounds great.” (Y/N) rose a few feet off the roof when she heard a cough behind her.

She spun around and looked down at Jason. “Doll…I don’t know if you know this…but I can’t fly.”

“Whoops. My bad.” She lowered back onto the rooftop and held out her arm.

He walked into it and wrapped an arm around her waist, then tipped his head to her. “Up, up, and away.”

(Y/N) snorted as she rose. “You’re still cheesy, Jason.”

The grip on her waist tightened as he murmured, “I know.”

[flashflashhundredyarddash]

Between You, Batman, and the Bat-Hound, I'll Take the Bat-Hound

A fic about Bruce Wayne deciding to adopt a service dog.

Read on ao3 here. Warning for major character death.

Bruce got Ace when Dick was ten. He’d started therapy when Dick was eight, but it had taken a while for it to occur to Bruce to get a service animal. Ace was a German Shepherd who had thrived in his emotional support training and had so far passed all his requirements with shining colors. Bruce and Dick had met Ace and a few other dogs in New York a month before their graduation and Dick had felt an immediate connection to the dog. Bruce had made a sizable donation to the program, paid for the full costs of the next 632 dogs that were going to be placed with owners for the next year, and a month later Bruce, Dick, and Alfred flew back to New York to pick up Ace and fly home.

For being only one year old, Ace was a dog who took his job very seriously. He had obediently followed Bruce from room to room, and didn’t wander off while they were in the Batcave, and instead sat patiently at Bruce’s feet.

Dick adored Ace, and it was obvious Ace loved Dick. Ace technically had his own bed, though Ace actually spent half his nights sleeping with Dick and half his nights curled up on Bruce’s bed. Dick always tried to come with Bruce for Ace’s walks and always made sure Ace got presents when the holidays rolled around. Ace’s favorite toy was a Batman plush Dick bought for him, and Ace carried it with him everywhere. Ace stoically endured it when a 12-year-old Dick dressed him in a Batman costume for Halloween. The picture of the dog was hung in the hallway leading to the kitchen, where other important family photos resided, with the caption “Ace the Bat-Hound” in Dick’s handwriting. Ace curled up with Dick whenever Dick had nightmares about snapping wires.

Bruce loved his serious and stoic dog.

Jason was wary of Ace when he first came to the manor. In his experience, most big dogs were threats he had to guard against. Bruce had combatted this by letting Jason come with him to the office one day while Ace was working, his bright red service vest on. By the end of the day, Jason was significantly more comfortable with the dog, and it wasn’t odd to see Jason holding one-sided conversations with Ace while ranting about his homework.

Ace took his responsibilities just as seriously when it came to Jason as he did when it came to Bruce and Dick. He spent most nights in Jason’s bedroom, who had horrible night terrors. When Jason was at school, Ace spent his time in Dick’s room, curled up on the bed with his Batman toy.

When Jason died, Ace stayed attached to Bruce’s side every minute that he could. When Bruce was on patrol, he paced the hallway in front of Jason’s locked door, and sometimes Alfred would cry into his fur. Ace spent more time in the Batcave, waiting for Bruce to come home, his head resting on his crossed paws. Alfred stayed alert for Ace to come get him when Bruce was injured (which was often).

Tim’s mother had claimed an allergy to dogs and cats, so Tim had grown up with neither. He knew, logically, that Bruce Wayne had a service dog, but he hadn’t been prepared for the reality of an animal that seemed to be what happened if Bruce Wayne’s personality had been put into the body of a dog. The first time Tim heard Bruce really laugh had been when Ace had tugged Tim to the floor while wrestling over a rope, and then had climbed onto Tim and whined apologetically. When Tim’s parents left on trips after only being home a few weeks and he collapsed into the bed in his spare bedroom at Wayne Manor that was slowly becoming his bedroom, Ace would lay with him, on top of Tim’s legs. Ace was too well-trained to jump in greeting, but his tail always wagged when he saw Tim again, and when Dick began to come around more Ace could barely contain himself from following his first kid around the manor.

David Cain had used dogs in his training of Cassandra. When Bruce had first seen the horrific bite scar in Cass’s upper arm, he’d gritted his teeth and within the week took down a burgeoning dog fighting ring.

He thought about doing what he did with Jason, letting Cass spend a few days with him and Ace to let Cass feel more comfortable, but Cass had had any and all indications of fear trained out of her, so Bruce couldn’t even be sure she was even afraid of them. Ace, clever as he was, seemed to pick up on Bruce’s tension, and was always on his best behavior when Cass was around. While Bruce was still mulling it over, he came across Cass and Ace in the library, Cass with her phone leaned up against Ace and watching a video while Ace sat quietly with his Batman toy, his tail wagging. Bruce quickly teamed up with Ace to teach him the ASL signs for his commands, and soon enough Cass started to take Ace with her whenever she left the manor to travel into Gotham, Ace wearing his vest with pride. Ace was a big hit with the Gotham City Adult Beginner’s Ballet Class, who were very careful to not distract Ace from his job.

Ace met Krypto once. Ace was unimpressed. Bruce shared half his sandwich with Ace as a reward.

The first time Red Hood was invited back to the Batcave, Ace had sniffed him, settled at his feet, and had refused to leave his side until Jason left. Ace once again took up vigil outside Jason’s door, so Alfred unlocked it for him. Alfred sat on the edge of Jason’s bed, and Ace had put his head in Alfred’s lap and closed his eyes while Alfred pet him. Ace went to retrieve his toy and then slept in Jason’s room for the first time in several years.

When Damian came to the manor, Ace was an old dog, with grey around his muzzle. Sometimes he had trouble going down the stairs. Bruce did not miss Damian’s quickly hidden interest in the dog, and had kneeled down to introduce them.

When Dick, Damian, and Alfred moved to the penthouse, Damian had quickly commandeered responsibility for taking care of Ace. He prepared specially made food for him, took him on his walk, and defaulted to talking about Ace whenever he could.

For Ace, the strangest part about moving back to the manor and seeing Bruce again for the first time in a year was learning to live with other animals. When Titus first arrived, he was small enough to walk underneath Ace, but he quickly grew into his oversized paws and soon the Great Dane dwarfed the German Shepherd. Titus loved Ace, and while Ace tried to act disinterested, he was clearly fond of Titus, too. For Halloween that year, Ace was once again forced into his Batman costume by his first kid while Titus happily played in his Robin costume. Alfred the cat was apparently supposed to be Catwoman. Ace grumpily sat by Bruce while Bruce sympathetically patted the old dog on the head and then he spent the night in Bruce’s bed when he came back from patrol.

When Duke joined the family, Ace was a quiet, old dog with drooping eyes. He couldn’t come out with Duke because he got tired easily, but whenever Duke visited his parents Ace would spend the rest of the day with him. He carried his Batman toy with him everywhere. He was a pleasant companion while Duke did homework, and didn’t seem to care when Duke blasted his music. In the afternoons, while everyone else was asleep, Ace came down with Duke to the Batcave and waited patiently for Duke to suit up for patrol, and was always there when Duke came back.

One day, Duke and Damian came home from school to find Steph, Cass, and Tim huddled at the base of the grand staircase, whispering. Duke and Damian shared a look before approaching them, and when Damian made a loud “tt” noise, Tim and Steph jumped and whirled around while Cass turned sedately. Damian stared at the trio judgmentally while they all looked at each other. Duke noticed Ace at their feet.

“Ace can’t make it up the stairs,” Tim finally said, looking unsettled. Duke’s attention immediately snapped to Ace, who was laying down just beside the first step.

“Can he walk at all?” Damian asked.

“He followed us from the living room,” Steph said, “but he was limping a little. And then he couldn’t make it up the stairs after us.”

Damian chewed his lip, uncharacteristically unsure. “We should call Father,” he finally said, “and bring his bed downstairs. And his toy.”

Steph veered back to the living room to fetch his toy while Cass and Duke went upstairs to get his bed out of Bruce’s room. Damian gently shepherded Ace to the kitchen with Alfred while Tim called Bruce, his voice quiet in the somber mood of the kitchen while the kids lingered there.

Bruce, who was at Wayne Enterprises, broke several traffic laws to get home within half an hour to meet his family in the kitchen. He crouched to check over Ace the same way Damian did, and Ace’s tail began to wag weakly as soon as he saw Bruce.

“He seems alright apart from the stairs,” Damian reported. “He ate and drank at his usual times, though he does appear more lethargic than usual.”

His other children and Alfred watched Bruce and Bruce ran his hand over Ace’s side, thinking.

“I’ll keep an eye on him tonight,” Bruce decided. “If he gets worse, I’ll take him to the vet. I’ll inform Dick, Jason, and Barbara to cover my patrol route.”

Duke shared an alarmed look with Cass. Bruce almost never passed up a night of patrol without much cajoling.

That night, Bruce moved his things downstairs and took up residence with Ace in one of the spare bedrooms on the first floor. Over the next month, visitors trickled in one at a time.

Dick seemed to be over every other day. He bought Ace a Robin plush that quickly settled beside his old and ragged Batman plush, right in the center of Bruce and Ace’s new bed. Dick brought his daughter, too, and she happily petted Ace and played with him while Ace bore it with the quiet dignity he always did.

Barbara visited, and she sat on the couch with Ace in the living room while she coded and he snored. At dinner, she dropped food underneath the table for him.

Titus spent his mornings while the kids were at school with Ace, cuddling with him and trying to play. Once, Ace had growled ferociously when Titus tried to take his Batman toy, and Damian had retreated to his room in tears after he’d pulled Titus away. Ace had apologised the next day by letting Titus play with the toy, though he was careful not to let it out of his sight.

After patrol one night Bruce came home and Ace was on his dog bed, asleep. Bruce couldn’t recall a time when Ace hadn’t either stayed up to wait for Bruce or gone to sleep with one of the children. Bruce picked Ace’s toys up off of their bed and set them by Ace, and then curled up around his dog for a brief minute and had fallen asleep on the dog bed.

Jason had carried Ace up the stairs and they spent the whole day in Jason’s room, and when Jason got bored of that they’d wandered into everyone else’s rooms, and found an old ball hiding underneath Damian’s bed. Ace had panted happily when they reached Bruce’s room, so they’d spent the day watching movies on Bruce’s bed.

Cass invited some of her old friends from the ballet group and Ace had perked up. They’d laughed and spent a few hours with him, and at the end of the visit Cass had been the proud owner of a bag of treats for Ace. That night, she spent several hours during patrol following every stray dog she found, giving them food and water when she could.

Steph bought Ace increasingly ridiculous doggy accessories when inspiration struck and taking numerous selfies with him, matching sunglasses on their face. She sent every one to Bruce.

Sometimes, Alfred the cat would take advantage of Ace’s now docile attitude to sit on him and take a nap.

Tim managed to coax Ace out onto the manor grounds on a particularly sunny day and Tim sketched out blueprints while Ace lay pressed against his side. The sun seemed to give him enough energy to play fetch with a stick for a few throws, and Tim recorded him on his phone and then sent it to the family group chat. Bruce reacted to the video with a heart.

Damian spent any time not in school or on patrol with Ace. He quietly followed Ace from room to room, from sibling to sibling and during their monthly family movie night he sat on the floor with Ace and the rest of their siblings and patted his belly and cooed at him about what a good boy he was. A few times, Bruce had gone upstairs after the rest of his children had already gone to sleep and found Damian asleep in his bed with Ace.

While they waited for the rest of their family to return home from patrol, Alfred sat with Ace in Bruce and Ace’s room and gently pet him while he read a book.

Duke carried Ace down to the Batcave after his afternoon patrol while the rest of the house’s occupants were sleeping. They sat in front of a display case containing one of the old batsuits, and Ace nosed the glass. Duke left him for a moment to find the current cape and wrapped Ace in it. Duke carried Ace back upstairs, cape and all, at the end of Bruce’s afternoon nap and dropped Ace off next to Bruce. It was a blatant violation of Alfred’s “no uniforms in the house” rule, but Duke figured Alfred would make an exception.

That night, Batman went out in a slightly older version of the cape.

On the last day, Bruce stayed home because Ace wouldn’t sleep or eat or move and just lay on their bed, whining intermittently. Bruce’s hands shook when he called his children who weren’t living at the manor, and on the way to the vet Duke and Damian sat with Ace in the back. Alfred was on his phone, texting various members of the family, and he kept turning in his seat to smile sadly at the dog and reach back to pet him. Bruce’s eyes kept flicking to the rearview mirror to watch his dog.

They waited until all of the children came. Dick was already in tears when he and Jason came, and Jason’s were red and puffy. Everyone was teary-eyed by the time Tim finally arrived, apologetic and frantic. The entire Wayne family gathered in the back to wait with Ace.

“Wait,” Dick said, his voice rough and nearly hysterical. “His toy, did anyone get his Batman toy?”

Bruce’s eyes widened for a moment before Duke shrugged off his backpack he brought from the manor. He pulled out Ace’s Batman toy, the cape Ace had been sleeping with, folded up to look like a blanket and finally, his old service dog vest, slightly faded after years of washing. Duke handed them all to Bruce who laid them out beside Ace. when Bruce gently set down the Batman plush beside Ace, Ace ignored it in favor of nuzzling into Bruce’s hand.

This is what caused Jason to make a loud hiccuping sob and burst into tears, and then all the kids followed suit.

“Children,” Alfred began, choked up, “we must make a valiant effort to… to...” he trailed off, tears dripping down his cheeks.

His children clung to each other as the vet came in, and Bruce pet Ace’s scruff while someone clung to his hand.

Bruce and Ace looked at each other. A man and his service dog. The Batman and The Bat-Hound.

“You were the best dog a man could ever ask for,” Bruce whispered when Ace closed his eyes.

***

Six months later, Bruce was waylaid by his eldest child while on the way to work.

“Did someone ask for a valet?” Dick grinned, and Bruce grunted and got in the backseat so he could talk to his granddaughter. A few minutes later, Alfred got into the passenger seat and Bruce’s trepidation grew.

“Dick,” he said, “you know I hate surprises.”

“Yeah, Bruce,” Dick said, “but it’s a good one this time, I promise.”

“The last time you said that someone painted the Batmobile pink.”

Dick laughed. Bruce turned to his granddaughter. “I swear I will never attempt to throw you a surprise party as long as I live.”

Mary gurgled at him.

“Hmm,” Bruce said. “Yes, you understand me.”

An hour later, they pulled into the parking lot of the GCPD police academy and they got out of the car.

“You said this was a good surprise, chum.”

“It is!” Dick said as he unbuckled Mary.

“I can see Steph’s car across the parking lot. And Barbara’s and Tim’s and Jason’s bike. If this is a surprise party I will never forgive any of you.”

Dick scoffed. “It is not anywhere close to your birthday.”

“A perfect time to strike.”

As they walked into the lobby, a man straightened from where he was talking to the person manning the front desk.

“Jim,” Bruce’s smile came a little easier as he walked over to shake his hand. “How’s retirement treating you?”

Jim sighed. “Barbara says I can’t complain because I was lucky enough to retire. It’s so awful I almost miss being a beat cop. Almost.”

Jim turned and started to walk down the hall. “Your kids are waiting for you,” he stopped by a nondescript door.

“I suppose you can’t tell me what this is about?”

“Well, that would ruin the surprise wouldn’t it, Bruce?”

Bruce sighed, but turned and opened the door.

“I knew it was a surprise party.”

All of his kids were piled into the small office, and they laughed at him. Barbara was in the middle of the room, a box by her feet, looking distinctly pleased with herself.

“Hi, Bruce,” she said, and then pulled out a small German Shepherd from the box.

Bruce said nothing.

“Don’t freak out,” Dick said, too late.

“Too late,” Jason said.

“I’m not freaking out,” Bruce said.

“You look like you’re freaking out a little,” Duke said apologetically.

Bruce abruptly smoothed his face.

“One of my dad’s friends helps run the K9 training. This little one was a bit ‘too friendly’ for K9 work,” Barbara said, patting the puppy’s head, whose tongue was lolling out. “So I asked if we could take her instead.”

“Guess what her name is,” Jason said, gleeful.

“Every litter usually gets themed names,” Barbara said, smiling, “And this litter’s theme was a certain group of Bat-themed vigilantes…”

“Oh, no,” Bruce said.

“Oh, yes,” Jason said.

Barbara lifted up the German Shepherd, “say hello to Robin.”

Bruce sighed but still reached out to pick up the dog. He lifted her up and stared at her face while she panted happily at him. Bruce sighed.

“Did we crush this surprise party or what?” Steph said. “Up top!” and Cass and Tim gave her a high-five.

Bruce cradled the dog to his chest and stroked her fur. Damian reached over to scratch her head.

“Being Robin is a very important responsibility,” Damian told the dog, “but I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“It turns out all of the puppies washed out of their police training. I’ve never been more proud,” Jason said.

Cass turned to Bruce. “I want the Black Bat puppy,” she signed.

Bruce hid his smile in his new Robin’s fur.

[incorrectbatfam]

Batfam/Superfam/Flashfam thanksgiving headcanons?

To prepare, Alfred bought ten turkeys and Clark brought three extra ovens from Metropolis. Lois also brought extra helpings of the vegetarian alternatives

This means they have ten wishbones, which Steph and Cass set out to find while the turkeys were still raw

Despite everyone’s protests, Clark laser-roasts one of the turkeys—and it’s not half bad

Ma and Pa Kent come with a pickup truck full of stuffing and knitted sweaters for everybody

With Zatanna’s help, they get enchanted cider bottles that never run out

The Flashes arrive late. As usual. But they brought pie

Except Bart, who came with chocolate bunnies because he’s a future boy who gets his holidays mixed up

Bruce and Clark like to time how long it takes for Barry to finish an entire casserole. The current record is 0.4 seconds

Dick and Wally made Chris Kent an honorary Titan

Nobody even notices when Kate brings the entire Birds of Prey because what’s a few extra people?

Alfred, Lois, and Iris just give each other a look anytime anyone does anything

The kids' table was originally just Damian, Jon, and the pets. Alfred sent Carrie there when she wouldn’t stop playing with her vegetables. Bizarro joined because he wanted to play with Krypto. Bruce made Tim, Kon, and Bart go shortly after. Dick joined because the adult table ran out of pie. Wally was sent there as a punishment because he ate all the pie at the adult table. Steph heard the word “pie” and ran over. Cass followed Steph. Harper sent Cullen there because he wouldn’t quit talking about Destiel being canon, only to join herself because she felt bad. Duke got curious and wanted to see why there were so many people. Jason joined because the conversation was more interesting. Barry was sent to check on them but never came back

It began to snow fairly early in the evening so they went outside. It wasn’t cold and the snow wasn’t heavy by any definition, but Lois still made Jon bundle up in seven layers and Damian gave him the new nickname “Marshmallow Boy”

The only thing Jon can do in his Jet Puff garb is make stiff snow angels. Damian laughs at him but joins

Meanwhile, Kon was allowed out with just his leather jacket

... Until Clark made him come inside and put on winter gear

The Flashes don’t have to worry about the cold because they’re a bunch of walking space heaters

So while the rest of the Bats have to gear up, Bruce let Tim and Dick off the hook on the condition that they stay close to Bart and Wally

Bizarro made a laser ice sculpture of Red Hood beating the Joker with a crowbar and it’s the most beautiful thing Jason’s ever seen

Steph, Cass, Harper, Babs, Carrie, and Kara come up with the perfect snowball strategy, whereby Harper creates endless snowballs with a machine, Babs does tactical work from behind the fort, and the rest destroy the competition from every angle (including above)

Their “competition” is Duke, who’s just trying to build a snowman

Tim, Kon, and Bart find a nice rooftop with a snowdrift beneath and they play their favorite game, “Give Our Parents A Heart Attack”

There is now a Wally-shaped hole in the fence because running on ice is such a wonderful idea

While the kids are playing, Bruce and Kate suit up and deliver food to people in Gotham who need it, including the Rogues

On their way, they catch Chris and Cullen sneaking out to Batburgers

[awhitehead17]

100 ways to say I love you - TimKon edition:

Number 44: “I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

A/N: Small warning, there are mentions of a panic attack happening but nothing in great detail.

Enjoy! :D 

One Saturday afternoon Tim was minding his own business as he walks through the fields of Kent farm with Krypto happily barking at his feet. The dog would excitedly bound ahead for a few seconds before coming back, barking and shooting off again. Tim would try and please the dog by launching a stick as far as he could, but he knows that his throwing skills don’t really satisfy the super canine.

Just as he launched the stick yet again, with Krypto chasing after it, his phone begins to ring inside his pocket. Tim digs it out of his jeans and looks at the screen to find Kon’s name there. Tim raises an eyebrow in question, he had only seen Kon not thirty minutes ago, what could Kon be calling him about?

Tim answers and even before he could say his greetings Kon is speaking over him in an erratic, panic voice.

“Tim! Oh my god, I need – Ma just called about Pa - Tim I don’t know what to do! What do I need, god I hope he’s okay, Tim this is awful. What if it’s like really bad, well of course it’s bad but how bad? Tim, I don’t know what to do…”

It takes Tim a few seconds to comprehend the rapid rambling happening through the phone’s speaker. Kon is freaking out about something but with how quick he’s talking and seeming to change topic Tim can’t make sense of it quite yet.

“Kon, Kon, Conner! Breathe and tell me what’s happened.” Tim demands gently but firmly. He moves the phone away from his face and whistles for Krypto before starting to jog back to the farmhouse.

“Okay, okay, so, um I got a call from Ma just now,” Kon starts explaining, his voice shaking as he does.

Tim hums in acknowledgement, not reacting until he's heard the whole story.

“So Ma and Pa were out in town, as you know, and apparently Pa took a bad fall while out and now they’re taking him to the hospital. The hospital Tim! How bad could the damage be if they have to take him away in an ambulance?”

Tim hums again and hurries his pace to get to the house quicker, he could hear how Kon’s voice is rising with panic as he tells Tim what happened. Tim needs to get there to try and calm Kon down before he ends up having a panic attack.

“I’m trying to go through the house to find out what they may need if he’s at the hospital. Like how long will he be staying there? What is the damage if there is any? Of course there would be some he’s going to the hospital why else he go there. Christ Tim I can’t think straight right now.”

The farmhouse is in distance now, Tim hums again saying, “It’s okay Kon I’m almost back now.” It’s a miracle that Kon hasn’t just shot off, heading for the hospital as soon as he got the news. The last thing anyone needs is Superboy turning up at the hospital asking for Mr Kent.

Kon starts rambling into the phone again and without meaning too Tim blanks out his words, his focus purely on getting back to the house. A couple minutes later he’s there and instantly rushes indoors in search for Kon.

He could hear his boyfriend still talking inside the house, following his voice he finds Kon in the living room speaking into the phone. Tim pockets his phone and goes to Kon, grabbing his hands to get his attention. Kon jumps at the touch and wide blue eyes meet his. The half Kryptonian is breathing rapidly and Tim could see him physically shaking.

Tim reaches up and cups his cheek with a hand. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. Just breathe with me for a moment alright.” With his other hand he places one of Kon’s on his chest and starts breathing deeply for Kon to mimic. “Breathe in with me and breathe out. Copy my breathing.”

They breathe together for several moments until Kon’s calmed down enough to be breathing normally again. Tim cups his face again and strokes the skin there with his thumbs. “Right, tell me again what’s happened.”

Kon swallows and nods. He takes another breath and leans forward, resting his forehead against Tim’s in a silent action of seeking comfort. Tim allows him to, happy to give Kon whatever he needs.

“Right, so Ma and Pa were out in town and apparently Pa took a bad fall. There’s probably some sort of hip or knee damage. One of the medics called me from Ma’s phone from within the ambulance. They’re on their way to the nearest hospital. They didn’t say how he got hurt just that he is.”

This time Tim nods, now finally understanding the situation. He tries to not get too overwhelmed by worry for Pa Kent. If he’s already with medics and on the way to the hospital then at least he’s getting the help he needs swiftly which also means they’ll be able to catch the worst of it quickly. Of course Kon won’t be able to see it like that just yet which is completely understandable, Tim needs to make sure that his boyfriend doesn’t do anything rash in the meantime.

“Okay, so while nothing is definite yet, let’s be prepared just in case. We can pack a bag with some day and night clothes, Pa’s meds and maybe some toiletries. If we need to get more stuff we can always come back. Kon I’m sure he’s going to be fine.”

Conner doesn’t say anything but he does give Tim a squeeze from where his hands rest on against his waist. They wordlessly pull apart and head for the Pa’s bedroom. Together they make quick work of packing things they think Pa may need if he’s to stay overnight at the hospital.

Once that’s done, Kon shoulders the bag and makes his way to the door but before he could take off Tim grabs his bicep. “Kon, you can’t go flying there.”

Kon sends him a sharp look. “Tim we’re wasting time here. Flying is the quickest way.”

Tim doesn’t take any offense to the sharp look or tone of voice, he knows Kon is stressed at the situation and not at him. He also isn’t hurt by the action of Kon pushing him away so he could walk out onto the front porch of the farmhouse. For a second time Tim grabs his arm before he could take to the air.

“Kon think about it, Superboy can’t just go showing up at the hospital. Not when they’ll be expecting Conner Kent. I’ll drive you to the hospital. Come on.” Before Kon could protest Tim takes his hand and leads him to the truck parked in front of the farmhouse. They climb in and Tim wastes no time in starting up the engine and driving to the hospital.

The ride there is tense and silent, not that Tim expected it to be anything else. He kept quiet as he drove to let Kon have his space to think things through and to try to mentally prepare for what’s going to happen in the near future. Once they get there they rush inside and get directions to where Pa’s room is.

They find both Ma and Pa inside the room. Pa is on the bed with Ma sat by his bedside. At the sight of them Kon surges forward, rapidly asking questions and trying to get answers for what had happened. Tim hovers by the doorway, allowing his boyfriend to have time with his grandparents.

Ma soon spots him and makes her way towards him, letting Kon interrogate Pa about what happened, and smiles softly in greeting.

“Tim, dear, thank you for coming.”

“Of course I came. How could I not?” Tim says reassuringly. “Is everything okay, what’s going on? Kon wasn’t exactly eloquent after the phone call.”

“Pa was just being a silly old man and wasn’t watching where he was going. He fell off some decking and seems to have damaged that old hip of his again. They’ve taken him for an x-ray already and now we’re waiting on results. He’ll be okay.”

Tim nods, feeling relieved that it’s good news. The two of them watch as Kon and Pa Kent bicker back and forwards about something. They share a fond eye roll and smile at the antics of the Kent men. Kon may not be blood related to the Kent’s but he is one of them by every other definition possible.

[nuclidic]

So predictably for the Ultimate Ship Meme thing I want to know ALL your TImKon headcanons. I'm especially looking forward to the domestic stuff~

Rate the Ship -      Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs    How long will they last? - FOREVER. I will say the one good thing about them not being canon is that DC cannot break them up for drama since comics writers are allergic to stable relationships.

   How quickly did/will they fall in love? - So my headcanon for Tim is literal as in I literally consider him to be in love with Kon in preboot canon. I don't see that for Kon so I'm open to a lot of interpretations! But like, don't argue with me I'm passionate about my headcanons. I think Tim fell in love gradually without realizing it. At first he was kind of constantly exasperated by Kon even as they became friends, then it became exasperation he couldn't live without as his...I want to say respect but I'm not sure if it's the right word - for Kon grew. Kon became his very best friend first, and that's when the romantic feelings started unnoticed. I'd say he's solidly in love by the time Kon finds out about his Luthor heritage, though Tim definitely doesn't notice. He might start to realize his feelings after Kon died, but it's also a good time to tamp them down and compartmentalize because Kon is dead and why deal with those feelings now. When Kon comes back though... the feelings are going to leak their way out eventually, Tim can't suppress them forever though he might try. He might try his best not to acknowledge them at all or heck, recognize them and then cram them back down. But he's not going to fall out of love with Kon, so good luck with that. Kon I think was vaguely attracted to everyone he met for a while since he was basically a roiling mass of teenage hormones, so he probably thought Robin was hot and annoying. That faded as he re-categorized Tim from "annoying but smoochable" to "friend" but I think that category could easily swing to "best friend but smoochable".

   How was their first kiss? - I think it started out slowly and easily, light kisses and laughter and it was so easy as they fit together, and it wasn't long before they were just lost in each other.

Wedding:

   Who proposed? - Tim    Who is the best man/men? - Bart of course! Possibly they both share Bart but depending on if Tim has a good relationship with Dick again I think Tim would want him as his best man.    Who is the bride’s maid(s)? - I think if they have a big wedding party they might get Steph, Cass, or Kara in there.    Who did the most planning? - For their public wedding, the wedding planner with Tim peering over his shoulder. It's got to be a nightmare working for Tim in nervous perfectionist mode.    Who stressed the most? - Tim    How fancy was the ceremony? -    Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big. I think they had two weddings - a simple ceremony with family and close friends only, and then later (possibly much later) a large public ceremony for like all of Gotham, since Tim is a public figure.    Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Supervillains?

Sex:

   Who is on top? - Kon They switch.    Who is the one to instigate things? - Kon more often because he doesn't get as distracted by casework.    How healthy is their sex life? -    Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now    How kinky are they? -    Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head I do like them to get into some kinky stuff and I'd totally write a story about them discovering BDSM if I thought I could manage it.

  How long do they normally last? - Kon has a super refractory period and probably builds up super stamina pretty quickly.    Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - They probably have competitions sometimes tbh.    How rough are they in bed? -    Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.    How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? -    No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Kon talks Tim into being okay with some PDA eventually.

Children:

   How many children will they have naturally? - If by "naturally" you mean Tim clones* them a baby with both their genes, probably one. If this is mpreg and it's Tim who's pregnant, probably also one. If it's Kon who's pregnant, two or three.    How many children will they adopt? - Adoption seems the way to go! I like to imagine them ending up with at least two children, probably acquired in a superhero way. Probably more if they get them when they're older.    Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Kon because Tim somehow disappears when they get stinky.    Who is the stricter parent? - Tim. He remembers what he got up to as an unsupervised child and tends to overcorrect, luckily Kon is there to buffer him.    Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Honestly they probably end up encouraging it, though Tim tries to seem like he disapproves.    Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Kon, he's got the whole morning routine down because Tim is either still asleep or a zombie who can only seek out coffee.    Who is the more loved parent? - They're both good parents, their children love them both.    Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Kon. Tim only shows up when he needs to threaten/bribe the school board.    Who cried the most at graduation? - Kon    Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Tim, but they're probably more scared of what Tim will say when he comes to get them than they are of the law.

Cooking:

   Who does the most cooking? - Kon! He eventually learned how to cook from Ma. Tim is perfectly capable of following a recipe, he just tends to get distracted during the cooking part because there are at least 10 things he could get done while waiting for that food to brown so Kon had to ban him from cooking after the third time he had to put out the stove with his freezing breath.    Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Tim. He developed some control issues around his diet after everything but he finally relaxes after a while.    Who does the grocery shopping? - Kon if he has to, but really thank god for grocery delivery.    How often do they bake desserts? - Kon probably makes a pie weekly.    Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Tim was on a salad and precisely measured nutrients kick for a while, but they both end up eating a relaxed balanced diet.    Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Cooked? Kon. Actually gets them reservations just for fun? Tim.    Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Neither, really. Once they move in together they would rather spend time together at home (with takeout). They do try to schedule date nights sometimes.    Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? - Literally Tim.

Chores:

   Who cleans the room? - They have to make a chore list. They both have a pretty high tolerance for clutter but Kon breaks first because when Tim is headfirst in a case he doesn’t care if he lives in a cave made of Red Bull cans.    Who is really against chores? - Tim thinks it makes a lot more sense for Kon to clean everything because Kon can do it faster.    Who cleans up after the pets? - If Kon wants a pet, Kon has to clean up after it, Tim says like he doesn't also want the pet.    Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Tim    Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Tim only becomes aware of mess when other people are coming over and then he freaks out cleaning.    Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Kon, but it belongs to sugar daddy Tim.

Misc:

   Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Tim, but sometimes it's because he's fallen asleep in there.    Who takes the dog out for a walk? - If it's Krypto, Kon is the only one who /can/ take him for a real walk. When they get a regular dog they take turns and often both go.    How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Kon hangs some stuff up for Christmas and Halloween. When they have children decorating and actually celebrating holidays becomes more of a thing.    What are their goals for the relationship? - Kon does not think in those terms, Tim just has to commit to not fucking it up.    Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Tim    Who plays the most pranks? - Kon because he realizes he can distract Tim from work with them and then distract him from being annoyed with sex.

*I was going to make a note about clones but now it’s going to be a separate post.

[talesfromatabletop]

RP Headcanons: DC Edition, pt 1

Batfam

Bruce cares, tries, and fails, but generally keeps trying for his kids.

Baby Terry McGinnis is the cutest thing ever and his dinosaur t-shirts reinforce this.

Slade Wilson - terrible person, great assassin, loving (if strict) parent.

Dick and Bruce fight constantly! Once Dick gets mad about something, everything makes him more angry until he and Bruce eventually resolve the first problem. It's sometimes big stuff... sometimes really petty shit.

Steph loves waffles. She will trade Tim for a 4-stack with chocolate chips.

Everybody wants to pair with Bruce on Gotham patrols. He gets the best fights and he brings snacks in the belt - it's a 50/50 if it's protein bars or trail mix, though.

Nobody wants to pair with Bruce on Gotham patrols. He won't let you make Social Media posts or stop for a hotdog at Rico's corner stand.

Jason and Dick actually fight a lot, still. Jason knows how to push Dick's buttons and he uses that as a self-defense tactic when he doesn't want to talk. ("Get Dick mad and he won't ask if I'm okay!")

Cass loved Steph before Steph loved Cass. Stephanie figured it out... eventually.

Lucius Fox only helps with the really weird shit because Bruce trades him Alfred's secret holiday recipes sometimes. Alfred's recipes are the true treasures of Earth.

Duke does his best not to get swept up in the weird, wild lives of his batsiblings tbh.

Tim doesn't babysit, he gets babysat.

Ace is the Good Boy™ but he will try and take Krypto down.

Titus is trained, we swear, but he's goofier than a ferret on drugs sometimes. 10/10 derp.

Sometimes Dami gives Batcow walks through the garden to help her relax.

Every Batfam member will stab the other for the last piece of Ma Kent's apple pie. Even Alfred.

Superfam

90s Kon and YJ Kon both deserve to exist. What better combo than the Insta-famous, outgoing showboat and the blunt, introverted buffbaby?

YJ Kon is way more of a "Conner" than 90s Kon. 90s Con is now "Carter."

Carter + Tim = Flashy Disaster Couple

Conner likes Wally's freckles.

Ma and Pa Kent accept any and all grandkids, time-travel or dimension-hopping be damned because "They're our boys, now, Clark, of course we want to see them!", and there are family trips to the farm.

Clark will bribe his friends and teammates with his mother's cooking. He can't bribe with his own, though, because he's terrible at it.

Jon would happily fly to Gotham for dinner before eating what his father burned made for them.

Krypto would probably go, too.

Clark doesn't know what to do with all of his sons but at least they aren't like his cousins.

"It's not about whether the boob window would look good or not, guys! It isn't happening!" is still something he's had to say before, though, and Clark's mildly ashamed of it.

With three superboys up to bat, the real issue is that none of them want to share the name. Jon had it first and that's fine with his brothers, really. Conner looks and feels like practically an adult, so he's meh about it. Carter wants something catchier to say. The result? Superboy, Kon and Rao.

Jor-El had a conniption when Carter named himself "Rao" as a hero. "You named yourself after OUR GOD?!? You disrespectful little-!"

Lex thought it was hilarious.

The boys are constantly in the background of Carter's posts and there's a few Insta vids of Lex trying and failing to hide that he's mildly amused by his son's shenanigans.

Flashfam

Barry is face-blind (has prosopagnosia). He can gradually memorize specific elements of a person's face ("Uh... Ollie's hair is like mine, right? So he's blond! And I know he has facial hair.") but has trouble associating them together unless he's had long periods of exposure to the person.

Wally is a nervous bundle of anxiety. All of the time.

Barry is practically incapable of looking on the dark side of things, and tends to believe the best of people - this extends to his villains.

Cisco is his bro, Caitlin is like the ditzy aunt, and Harrison is the exasperated father-figure that just wishes his kids didn't drink so much coffee.

Speaking of coffee - Barry doesn't drink it on the job. It makes him antsy.

Captain Boomerang - Digger, to his friends - is always on the edge of getting out of the game. Raising Owen ("Little Diggs") is a higher priority than his Rogues work. He waivers between retirement and always that "last" job that'll set him up to take care of his son.

Little Diggs is too pure for this world, and a fan of Flash even though he knows his father is a villain.

Wally isn't as forgiving with the Rogues as Barry is. This is especially true for Heatwave, Glider and Cold, since they've all double-crossed the Flash before.

Cold isn't fond of Kid Flash. Barry earns his respect and, in some ways, his admiration - this doesn't extend to Flash's smartassed sidekick.

Lisa and Mick are a surprisingly functional duo despite their dysfunctional dynamic. Lisa is generally in charge in their relationship, and Mick knows Len would ice him if he ever raised a hand to Lisa.

Len and Mick are best friends, despite the friction from their clashing personalities.

Lisa keeps pushing Len to either date or pick a favorite hooker - anything to get him laid and chilled out for once.

Len is practically addicted to puns. Not even just cold- or ice-related puns, either! He will make puns out of anything when given an opportunity, and genuinely is amused by them.

Arrowfam

Oliver is never in control of his daily life. He's barely in control of his personal choices most of the time.

Felicity runs it all - the team, the company, organizing his assignments from the League... everything other than doing the hard stuff herself.

Ollie really is a capable hero, but he doesn't believe it. He also doesn't particularly believe that the League needs or wants him there, but couldn't tell you why exactly they keep him, then, if questioned about it.

Roy has totally given up the flash and mystique of heroism tbh. Trucker hat? Check. Bow, arrows, and backup guns? Check. Flip-flops? All the better to chase people with. The slapslapslap of justice will strike terror in the hearts of muggers everywhere.

Oliver spoils Lian relentlessly.

Artemis is glad to avoid the weird shit that Roy and his clones get up to when Ollie isn't paying attention. She's never been more thankful that she isn't one of the adopted sidekicks.

Jim: Big, friendly, easily guilt-tripped, the pretty one.

Will: Mature, down-to-earth, does the guilt-tripping, the mom/dad friend.

Roy: Trash, amger!!!, can't be guilt-tripped but can be blackmailed, has no clue what he wants in life yet.

Lian will either murder you in your sleep or you are now a member of her family. There is no in-between.

No pets. Ever. They will get shot with an arrow by accident and nobody in the house is willing to deal with that emotional burden.

Oliver wants exactly 0 people in the "Arrowfam" but will kill you and/or himself over losing any member of his Arrowfam.

[mamawasatesttube]

I have a very important character for the ask meme: Krypto. (Yappy earth dog or super pup, dealer’s choice)

YEAHHHH superpuppy for the moment but maybe ill go back and do earth krypto sometime too hehe

Headcanon A:  realistic

he's made kon get incredibly good at home repairs. the supertail wagging against the back door, the overenthusiastic game of fetch that ended up destroying the farmhouse ac unit, the fly buzzing around the room that krypto didn't like so he lasered it to death (and also lasered a hole straight through the wall, but hey. he got the fly. he's a good boy.)

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

at some point he gets it in his head that he needs to check in on the people kon loves regularly. somehow this turns into him deciding that after dinner every evening, he's gotta fly to gotham and take tim on a walk. as in, he'll show up, leash in mouth, shove the handle into tim's hand, and wait impatiently for tim to go to the door and put his shoes on so krypto can lead him down the street.

tim does not get a choice in this. tim is not taking krypto for a walk. krypto is taking tim for a walk. the one time tim refuses and says he's busy, krypto simply takes him for a fly instead! yay yippee wahoo!!!

tim agrees to go for a walk the next day.

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

how many times do you think ma and pa woke up in the morning to find that krypto wasn't at home, only to go down and find him, curled up, muddy, and miserable, on kon's grave?

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

i ignore prime earth being like "krypto is the generic family pet for all supers". that is kon-el's emotional support pumby dog that clark gave to him years ago. kon is his favorite and the bias is VISIBLE.

[spider-jaysart]

DC headcanons part 2, a continuation from Batfam headcanons

Superfam headcanons :

Clark: Likes to eat grape jam with anything, like ANYTHING (Kryptonian taste buds)

Lois: Can always always tell when Jon or Clark's lying about something, can always almost figure out what's on they're minds. Reporter instincts

Jon: A really heavy sleeper, like he just sleeps through anything. He's such a heavy sleeper that one time during a sleepover at his house with Damian, Damian not feeling tired just grabbed out a sharpie and just drew a mustache and glasses along with some random swirls and little flowers on Jon's face. Jon was very upset the next morning when he found out

Jon can make his eyes go cross eyed, it annoys Damian a lot since he can't do it himself, though he won't admit that to Jon, always telling him he doesn't need to prove anything to him. (Though Jon knows the truth, cause Damian's always a show off with his skills)

Kon: Will never ever let anyone wear his shades, their limited edtion

He loves BTS, like he listens to their songs almost every day, when he's out flying enjoying the morning sun, when doing chores, when washing dishes, when running errands, shopping, taking a walk, when he's just chilling in his bed, like when ever he can. He even has their merch, Jon also loves BTS and also has their merch. Sometimes when they're alone in the house while Clark and Lois are out at work, they'll start singing the lyrics to every song while letting it play loudly in the backround, while also doing the dance moves

One time when playing with Krypto at the dog park playing catch, he threw the frisbee so far that it went straight to space, making Krypto fly and chase after it. Kon had to go after him and after an hour he was able to bring Krypto back safely, though he couldn't find the frisbee

He's also a pro at basketball, one time he just got really bored and just flew to a nearby basketball court, picked up the basket ball and started playing. That's when He found out he actually liked the sport, beginning to make it a new fun hobby of his. He got really good at it after like two months. He's a fast learner

Kara: Loves going on shopping trips with Barbra, she just loves pretending to be a fashion model on the runway with her friend while trying out like a thousand dresses and different styles in the dressing room (They also end up coming out with a lot of bags, like a LOT.)

She loves wearing neon colored wrist bands

Loves hip hop music

Likes to decorate her walls with photos that she takes from a camera of hers. (Like how Max does to her dorm room wall in Life is strange)

Likes to collect sea shells she finds on the Beach

My Batfam and DC ship headcanons below:

[malcyon]

Leap, Fall, Fly

Summary: He tries to use his voice, “You have one of my shirts?” 

Tim looks at him, amused.“Dude, I have, like, four.”

*****

Kon figures some stuff out. Tim helps.

Read on AO3

___________________________________________

Kon kinda wishes he hadn’t come to Gotham tonight.

The pavement below shines with reflected street light thanks to the freezing rain, because the weather in this city sucks. And there’s this creepy chill in the air that's unique only to Gotham that’s been making him shiver for the past hour. But Tim had called, asking if he wanted to patrol, and there was no way in hell Kon was turning that down or leaving halfway through the night.

Even if he can’t feel his feet anymore.

He runs a hand through his hair, ignoring the cold water that runs down his neck, and tries very hard not to look over at where his best friend is crouching on the edge of the building they’re staking out on. He seems to be trying to not look at Tim a lot these days. Trying to focus on anything else.

A few blocks away, a lady is yelling at her cat for knocking over a houseplant.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Tim roll his shoulders back smoothly.

Kon huffs out a frustrated puff of air and examines a trash can in the alley below. Part of him feels like he should say something, but he doesn't know what. He doesn't know what to say to Tim most of the time these days.

Despite that, he’s been stealing moments with the other boy outside of the team whenever he could since he’d gotten back from being dead, or comatose, or whatever it was he had been. What Kon hadn’t been, was there to see the results of his death (and Stephanie's, and Bart's, and Bruce's, and Tim's dad's, and so, so many more) on his best friend. Hadn’t been there to see Tim fall apart and then forge himself into something stronger than what he’d been as Robin.

A rat skitters over the garbage lid. He watches it blankly.

He knows that Tim had shattered while he was dead, had put himself back together piece by piece until he was almost whole again. And even now he acts fine, enough so that no one gets too close to see where he's falling apart at the edges.

But sometimes Kon will catch Tim staring at him like he’s about to disappear. Will catch the too fast, scared heartbeat of his best friend.

And it makes Kon want to scream or punch something, blame someone for not helping—It makes him want to hold onto Tim and tell him he’s not going away ever, ever again; because who else is gonna stay up with him to binge-watch Wendy movies and eat junk food until two in the morning? Hell, they don’t even have to do that; Kon would be down with anything that would get rid of the sad look in Tim’s eyes.

And this isn’t even counting all the bullshit with the assassins and Bruce dying and coming back and how strained things still are between Tim and Dick and how there’s a new Robin along with a new Superboy and—

Kon glares at the brick wall across the alley. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t care that Jon had donned the costume. Yeah, his little brother has done more than earned it, but it hurts knowing that he’d missed that too.

Plus now he has to come up with a new hero name.

He shivers again and scuffs his foot against the ground. Carefully, he glances over at Tim, whose masked eyes are still examining the dark corners below their building. Kon sorta hopes that something happens so he could at least move around a bit.

He wonders if that’s unethical then decides that he’s too cold to do any further introspection about himself.

Kon whines instead, “Hey, Red Robin.”

There’s no answer from the other boy—not even a twitch.

“Red. Robbie. Rob. R—”

Tim lets out a long sigh and Kon grins at him. “What?”

“I’m bored.”

“And?”

“And I’m cold.”

“And?”

“And I’m hungry, dude. I want some of Agent A’s cookies.”

Tim looks over at him, and Kon floats a few inches off the ground, giving his best puppy-dog eyes. He’s pretty sure Tim raises an eyebrow under the mask, but Kon tilts his head anyway, mimicking the face Jon gives Lois when he has to go to bed but the movie will be done in ten minutes, come on, pleeeeease.

Tim sighs again, in either amusement or exasperation Kon’s not sure. But he does stand up, so Kon gives himself a mental high five.

“Not like anything’s going on anyway.”

Kon doesn’t even bother to hide his beaming smile as he asks, “Fly back?”

Tim shrugs in agreement and jumps down from his brooding perch, steps light on the rooftop. Kon lowers himself to the ground, carefully picks up the other boy, and is suddenly very much aware of how Tim smells like rain and some sort of really nice body wash. He probably takes off a little too quickly, but he blames it on wanting to get out of the cold.

Tim makes a startled noise and throws an arm around Kon’s shoulders, and Kon curses at himself briefly before wrapping Tim up in his TTK, stabilizing him. The other boy relaxes but doesn’t seem to find it necessary to remove his grip, and Kon decides that focusing on flying is a really great idea. At the very least, it’s better than running into a street lamp.

He’s been in Gotham enough now to know how to get to the Manor from anywhere in the city, and the lights blur together as he goes faster and faster, raindrops splashing against his face.

To be honest, Kon has no idea if he's even allowed to be in the Bat's territory; he certainly wasn't given an invitation. But Tim's been dragging him here more and more lately, and since he hasn't been stabbed with a kryptonite batarang yet, Kon's not going to ask any questions. Maybe Tim had just worn Bruce down, or maybe Dick had changed the man's mind. Whatever it was, Kon got to hang out more with Tim and that’s what mattered.

Tim's laugh draws him out of his head, the sound vibrating through Kon’s chest and he lets out a whoop as they dodge buildings all the way to the Manor.

The rain has thoroughly soaked both of them by the time they enter the tunneled entrance to the Cave, but Kon can’t find it in him to care as he lands, still snickering, on the floor. Tim is grinning wildly as he steps out of Kon’s arms and takes off the Red Robin mask, his wet hair dripping down into his face until he runs a gauntleted hand through it. It sticks up in a bunch of spikes and Kon bursts into laughter.

Tim scowls at him and shakes his head, water droplets flying everywhere and making it even worse.

Kon bites his lip, barely toning down his sniggers, and steps forward. “Dude, stop; that’s not helping.” Tim glares. Kon rolls his eyes and, before he lets himself think about it too much, drags his hands through Tim’s hair, managing to calm it down enough to look presentable.

Tim’s skin is warmer than he thought it’d be, and his hair is thick with water and getting long. Kon likes it; his friend looks older, different in a way that makes Kon wanna stare at him. He wonders if anyone else notices like Kon does. Girls on the street certainly do whenever they go out as civilians, their stares catching on Tim's form, his sharp eyes. The thought makes his stomach sour.

Tim blinks, surprised with the contact maybe, but only gives Kon a quiet grin and doesn’t say anything.

Kon wants to beat his forehead against a wall.

The other boy unexpectedly takes a step back and surveys him with narrowed eyes. “You’re soaked.”

“So are you,” he points out, but Tim waves the observation aside.

“Yeah, but I’m taking this off—” Part of Kon’s brain is suddenly filled with some very exciting images—“and changing into something else. But you don’t really have any extra clothes.”

Kon tries to ignore the pictures in his head, but the tips of his ears still feel hot when he manages, “Am I staying the night?”

The atmosphere changes and Kon suddenly feels like he’s blundering through something that should be handled by someone who understands their own feelings. Tim opens his mouth, then pauses before continuing, “You don’t have to, I mean, if you have things you need to do then you should go, but the storm is gonna get really bad so—”

“No!” Kon definitely did not yelp. He clears his throat. “No, I’ll call Ma, but I should be in the clear. It’s a Friday so, you know, I can do the important chores later this weekend.”

Tim slowly nods. “Yeah, yeah, tell her I said hi. I’m going to get out of this suit; I’ll be right back.”

Kon isn't sure if he imagines the sudden stiffness to Tim’s shoulders as he walks away to some other part of the cave to change or not. He watches for a second, wanting to say something else even if he doesn't know what. But he only pulls out his burner phone and taps out Ma’s number, pointedly ignoring the unexpected awkwardness in the air. She picks up by the second ring.

“Hello?” There’s the sound of crickets and Krypto’s barking behind her voice, and Kon smiles a little bit for no particular reason.

“Hey, Ma. There’s a storm passing through Gotham, so it’s cool if I stay the night at the Manor, right?”

“Of course, Conner. I’m guessing that you’re with Tim?”

“Yeah, he says ‘Hi’ by the way. I promise I’ll try to go to sleep at a decent time tonight.”

She hums at him over the phone, amused. “I’m sure you will.” Kon hears her take in a breath, then hesitate.

“Ma?”

“How . . . are things with Tim?”

He straightens up even though she can’t see him.

“I—What?”

“How is he?”

“Uh, he’s okay. Busy. I think he’s running himself a little ragged.”

“I’m not surprised. You'll need to bring him over for dinner.”

“For dinner?” Kon's pretty sure he's missing something that should be obvious.

“The last time he came over feels like ages ago, and things between you two have seemed rather . . . tense.”

“What—How?”

She hesitates again. “It just feels like you both have something to say to each other.”

His heart stumbles, breath catching in his throat.

"I don't—"

"I've seen the way you look at him, dear."

His brain scratches to a stop.

She continues thoughtfully, "You're always talking about him, you did even while you were dating that Cassie girl. And I know how much time you've been spending with him lately, with the team and all." She's quiet for a moment. "You're sweet on him, aren't you?"

The question hangs in the air, and Kon struggles to breathe.

"I . . . “ He swallows weakly. “Maybe. Just a little. You know.”

”Really? I was so sure you two—"

"We're not together!" The words come out strangled as his ears burn from the teasing in her tone. Ma sighs over the phone.

"Well, I know that. If you were you'd have brought him over for dinner."

Oh.

He licks his lips, mouth suddenly dry. "You think I should . . . "

"Talk to him? Yes, I think you should."

"But what if he doesn't—"

"He does. Trust me, dear, he does." Kon opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He thinks of the way Tim’s hair felt against his hands and the haunted look in his eyes that sometimes appears when nobody is paying attention. Ma continues softly, “He’s a good boy and I know what he means to you, Conner. Talk to him.”

He nods at the ground. “Yeah . . . Yeah, I will. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Oh, and tell Alfred I want him to send me his recipe for snickerdoodles, and in return, I’ll finally give him my instructions for blueberry pie.”

A weak laugh comes out of his chest. “Okay, Ma.”

“Don’t stay up all night,” she chuckles and then says gently, "I love you."

"Love you, too."

She hangs up.

He puts his phone away and stares at the chittering bats on the ceiling high above.

Kon knows that he and Tim have been dancing around having a real talk for months. And it's weird because they used to be able to say anything to each other. But now it’s like they’re walking on a tightrope, carefully balancing so they don’t fall into a chasm of complicated feelings beneath them.

The truth is that Tim and Kon don’t click the way they had before. Like some piece of their puzzle has been flipped, and an entirely new picture created. And Kon has no idea what to do about it. 'Cause they’ve always been close. Before Kon had died, they’d been the best of friends, trusted one another with their secrets, their goddamn lives. Tim had covered his back and he had covered Tim’s. Even when the team was together, they were the ones who had stuck to each other’s sides like glue.

But then Kon had gone and gotten himself killed.

He knows that after he died the team had lost it. Cassie had joined a cult, Bart had died, and Tim had—

Kon’s throat suddenly feels way too tight.

He looks down at the ground.

But then Kon came back. And, yeah, they’re still best friends, but now there’s something else there. Something that both of them have been dutifully ignoring for months now and that Kon isn’t too keen on bringing up, messing with their delicate balance.

Though if Ma had noticed the tension between them . . . They really had to talk.

“Just to let you know, the house is gonna be basically empty tonight, it’s only us, Alfred, and Damian.” Tim’s voice comes from behind him, and Kon nearly jumps. He spins around to see his friend in some old work out clothes, rubbing his head on a towel.

Kon stares at him in disbelief.

“You’re telling me that your entire family all had things to do tonight except for the Bat Brat?” Tim grins at him from underneath the towel and something in Kon’s chest grows warm.

“Yeah, Dick’s in Bludhaven, Jason’s blowing some buildings up, the girls decided to go on a weekend trip to Japan, and Bruce is in Italy for sudden business stuff.”

“And the reason Damian hasn’t included himself in any of these activities is?”

“He’s sick.”

Kon nearly snickers.

“You’re shitting me. There’s no way he’d let getting sick stop him from doing any of that.”

Tim laughs and shakes his head. “Both Bruce and Dick threatened him with being benched if he went anywhere this weekend.”

Kon whistles. Direct orders from the Bat weren’t to be taken lightly. “I’m guessing that went well.”

Tim shrugs and puts the towel around his neck. “Not as bad as you would think. I mean, he was definitely in a pissy mood, but I think Jon is rubbing off on him. There wasn’t as much yelling as there could have been. But he was also totally out of it, so I’m giving credit to his cold and not development of character.” Tim throws the towel on a nearby table and starts walking up the stairs to go into the house, Kon floating after him.

Tim leads him through several hallways filled with family pictures that Kon knows his friend probably took when none of his said family was paying attention. One snags his eye and he pauses to get a better look. It's of Tim and Cassandra throwing pillows at each other inside one of the Manor’s many guest rooms. Whoever took the photo had good timing; they had caught Tim mid-laugh, eyes bright as they watched Cass bring a pillow down on his head.

Kon examines it for a second longer before the sound of Tim’s footsteps brings him back to the present.

He doesn’t look at any more pictures.

The kitchen is one of Kon’s favorite places in the house; it’s cozy despite its size, painted with pale yellows and creamy whites, and usually contains some kind of treat Alfred's whipped up. He hovers in the doorway, breathing in the warmth as Tim opens up one of the many cupboards and grabs a tin of what Kon hopes has cookies in it. He resists the urge to do a mid-air flip when he’s proven correct and Tim hands him the container while he starts to make tea.

The awkwardness from earlier has transformed into something comfortable and familiar, and Kon floats cross-legged and watches as Tim pours water into a pot and sets it to boil.

He takes a sweet from the tin and bites into it, the cookie melting on his tongue. He moans quietly because food and glances back up at his friend. Tim is facing the stove, shoulders suddenly rigid and Kon's eyes snag on the bright pink color his ears are turning.

Then he notices that Tim didn’t manage to dry his hair all the way, and Kon watches as a drop of water rolls down the back of his neck.

He swallows his cookie.

“Hey, so, I—I need some advice.” Kon isn't sure what to do with his hands, and he ends up lightly tapping the box with his fingers. Tim turns around, his brow furrowed in slight concern, the pink quickly fading from his ears.

“With what?”

Kon stares at the granite island below where he’s floating. He brings himself down until he sits on it with his legs hanging over the side, towards Tim but not quite looking him in the eyes. “I need to come up with a new hero identity.”

Tim’s gaze widens a tiny bit with realization before a smirk spreads on his face. “Does this mean a new outfit? Because you need a new outfit.”

Kon drops his mouth open, only to shut it and scowl. “What’s wrong with this?” He gestures to his damp t-shirt and jeans.

Tim gives him a look.

“Do you know how many shirts you go through?”

“They’re easily replaceable!”

“So many. I can’t begin to tell you how many shirts I’ve seen you lose on missions. And in the tower. And on the farm. And—why do you even wear them at this point?”

Kon huffs and glares at him. “At least help me come up with a new name.”

There’s the sound of dog nails on wood and a subdued sneeze, and Tim’s gaze locks on something behind him. Kon twists around and Damian meets his stare coolly, even though Kon can see the circles under the kid’s eyes and his raw nose. Shit.

“A new name for exactly what, clone?”

Tim sighs and goes to grab another mug as Titus weaves around his legs. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Damian scrunches his nose with distaste. “I’ve been in bed all day, Drake.”

“The more you rest up, the sooner you get back to patrolling with Superboy,” Kon points out and Damian shoots him a half-hearted glower. Since becoming friends with Jon and more tolerant of Tim, Damian had grown used to Kon’s presence and quips. Kon's pretty sure that Damian isn't pleased about this at all.

“Is that what you’re doing? Finally moving on from Superboy and creating a new identity?” Damian plops down on one of the counter’s stools and sniffles. Kon offers him the tin of sweets. The kid sighs and takes it without a snarky comment.

No wonder Bruce had made him stay home.

“Yeah, trying to at least.”

Tim hums in thought, “You going to keep ‘Super’ in the name, or not?”

“It would be moronic if you didn’t,” Damian states, but doesn’t look up from where he’s feeding Titus a cookie. Kon cocks his head and resists the urge to swing his legs back and forth like a kid deciding what kind of ice cream he wants.

“It’d be weird if I don’t, but considering how both Superman and Superboy are taken, well . . .”

Tim considers him for a moment. “Superdude.”

“No.”

“Superguy?”

“I don’t care how bad that storm is out there; I will fly home if I have to.”

“Superlad.”

“Drake, I will set Titus on you.”

“Eat your cookie, Demon Brat.”

Damian ignores the order and glances at Kon like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how to make the words come out the right way. He nibbles on his lip before speaking, “Jon’s been thinking about your predicament.” He rubs Titus’s head gently. “I . . . believe he feels guilty about taking the Superboy mantle away from you.”

Kon sits up straighter, about to do what, he doesn’t know; but then a hand on his shoulder makes him stop and glance up. Tim is looking at Damian, focused, eyes intent. It takes Kon a moment to go back at the kid, who’s frowning at the cookie in his hand. He thinks for a second.

“He shouldn’t; he’s doing a great job, better than I ever did, really.” Damian glances up, still chewing on his lip, and Kon continues, “But I’ll talk to him about it.” He grins. “Thanks.”

The kid blinks and nods slowly. Tim squeezes his shoulder gently, and if Kon leans into it a bit, Tim doesn’t say anything. Damian, despite the haze of the cold in his eyes, picks up on it though and gives Kon a miniscule eyebrow raise when Tim turns around to shut off the boiling water.

Kon goes very still as Damian’s gaze flickers between him and Tim, his brain coming up with all sorts of images that involve kryptonite and swords and he's already died once, he doesn't feel like doing it again, thanks. Damian gives him a narrow-eyed appraising look, and Kon gets a hollowing feeling that a pros and cons list is forming about his existence and all he can do is watch as it's debated over.

Then Damian dips his head the tiniest bit and goes back to feeding Titus his cookie.

His chest relaxes. Damian looks up at him again, the sharp, calculating stare gone, replaced with something almost contemplative.

“Jon also came up with a few names you could use.”

Oh, Kon is going to absolutely smother his little brother with hugs the next time he sees him.

Damian gives Kon a thoughtful glance before continuing, “Though he did have a favorite.”

Tim sets down two mugs of tea in front of them, and leans forward on the counter with his forearms, hands clasped around his own cup. Kon can see the outline of his shoulder blades through his threadbare shirt. “What is it?”

Damian reaches for his mug. “I believe it was called ‘Supernova.’”

Huh.

Tim looks up at Kon with a smile and a shrug. “I mean, I’m personally still a fan of Superdude, but that’s pretty good too, I guess.”

Kon snorts into his drink and Titus whines for another treat. Damian scoffs and hops down from the stool, cookie and tea in hand, and starts walking back to the hallway. Tim rolls his eyes and picks up the cookie tin to put it away. When his back is turned, Damian shoots Kon a puzzled look and glances between him and Tim again before muttering something in Arabic and turning out of the room.

“Go to sleep.” Tim calls after him, and Kon hears a disgruntled ‘tt’ and a sneeze as Titus follows the boy into the hall. Tim leans back on the counter next to the stove and takes a sip of his tea. “That went much better than I expected.”

Kon grins at him and lets his head drop back. The mug is cooling in his hands, and he wouldn’t mind taking a nap right now.

“I’m still calling you Superdude.” Kon’s not sure if he’d rather kick his best friend out the door or fly through the nearest window. Tim laughs at whatever expression is on Kon’s face. “Seriously though, you need a new outfit. Or at least one that’s waterproof.”

Right. 'Cause Kon’s still in his damp costume that smells like Gotham’s streets which is not the greatest thing ever, and warm clothes sound like a really nice idea. Tim takes Kon’s mug and puts the cups in the dishwasher. “Come on, I think I might have something that you can wear after all.”

Kon slides off the island and follows Tim out of the warm kitchen and up the huge flight of stairs that lead to the second floor and Tim’s bedroom.

He tries not to examine the pictures on the walls, but as they walk his gaze flickers to them anyway. The photos are authentic; bright moments captured by Tim’s camera and hung in the open halls of the Manor with pride.

Kon doesn’t know a lot about photography, but he does know that Tim is good. Really good. Able to snap little snippets of life and set them in frames in a way that's real. He could probably go professional if he wanted to, instead of the current CEO thing. Though Tim seems more than gleefull in torturing greasy businessmen, including Lex which still makes Kon nearly cackle, in the boardroom.

Then he spots several photos that contain other people than just the Waynes.

There’s one of Clark, Diana, and Bruce in a city park, though Bruce’s smile seems a little strained since the other two had basically forced him into a hug. Another that shows Wally graduating from Stanford, arms wrapped around Dick’s and Donna’s shoulders, laughing at some inside joke. Roy dozing on a couch in the library with Jason on the floor next to him, nose buried in a book.

There’s even one with Krypto, the dog nearly buried under Titus with Alfred the cat snoozing at his paws.

He can’t help but stare at that picture and wonder how the hell Tim managed to creep up on the superdog without waking him. Maybe Krypto had heard him but hadn’t been concerned. Besides, the dog likes Tim.

Kon’s eyes glance over the photos again, before looking at where Tim is walking up ahead. He pauses for a second.

Are there any pictures of him?

He shakes his head slightly and goes down the hall.

Tim opens his door and Kon can’t help but let out a little breath of air like he always does when he sees Tim’s room. It’s big, and Tim has his own bathroom, den, living area, balcony, and, most importantly, a giant flat-screen TV to play video games on. But Tim ignores all that and goes over to a dresser, Kon in tow, and begins rifling through the drawers, looking for something. Kon floats a bit, hands in his pockets.  

Then Tim holds up an article of clothing triumphantly and Kon’s brain stops working.

“Told you that you lose your shirts.” Tim grins at him, but Kon only manages a blink in return.

Because that is a Superboy shirt. One of his Superboy shirts. Tim has one of his shirts. Tim could have been wearing his shirt. Kon barely manages to catch the reason for his inner meltdown when Tim tosses the stupid thing at him.

He tries to use his voice, “You have one of my shirts?” Tim looks at him, amused.

“Dude, I have, like, four.”

Kon is fucked. He is so irrevocably fucked.

“How did I not notice—”

“So many shirts, Kon. You go through. So. Many. Shirts.”

“But how did you even get them?”

Tim shrugs almost sheepishly. “I don’t know. They just kinda appeared in my closet.” Kon nods dazedly and Tim frowns. “Don’t have any pants that will fit you though.”

“I’ll wear my boxers.”

Tim looks at him for a moment and stands up, stretching lazily. “So, whatcha wanna do?”

Kon stares at him and Tim grins and walks over to the TV console. Kon kicks off his shoes and begins to unbuckle his belt as Tim looks over his collection of games.

It kinda feels like they’re replaying a memory from before Kon died. Putting in a disc, hands wrapping around a controller; he’s pretty sure the night will play out with the same old bickering and arguments. Just like they’re sixteen again and everyone they care about is alive and only a phone call away.

But now there’s the tension from earlier creeping back into the air. Also, Kon is taking off his pants.

He snickers to himself.

Tim is calling out game suggestions, and Kon is really only half paying attention to the names. He pulls off his damp t-shirt and folds his clothes before putting them on the dresser because Ma’s tidiness habits seem to be wearing off on him.  

He wonders if there’ll be pancakes by the time he’s up. Hopefully, there will be because Alfred’s cooking is to die for. Healthier than Ma’s, sure, and not quite as hearty, but still mouthwatering.

It takes him a second to realize that Tim is no longer talking.

Kon glances up and freezes.

Tim is staring at him, eyes roaming over his body with an expression that Kon can’t quite place and hasn’t ever seen before on the other boy. His gaze dips over Kon’s collar bone and down to the muscles on his chest and stomach, lingering. He meets Kon’s stare, and Kon can barely breathe because Tim’s eyes are sorta dark and intense and they’re pinning him to the ground.

He holds Kon's gaze evenly, and though Kon's aware of the fact that he shouldn’t be listening, Tim’s heartbeat fills his ears, fast and steady.

Tim looks down at his hands, and Kon knows he’s not imagining the slight flush on Tim’s face as he lifts up one particular game they haven’t played in years.

“MarioKart?”

Kon’s mouth is dry.

“Sure.”

He pulls on the Superboy shirt; it’s old and tight around his chest and shoulders. He ignores it and makes his way to sit down next to Tim.

They don’t say anything as Tim slides in the disc and the intro music begins to play. Kon fiddles with his controller as they select their usual characters. The colored light flashes across Tim’s face, highlighting his cheekbones and pooling shadow at the column of his throat. He has a freckle under his left ear.

Kon keeps wrecking on the screen in front of them, but Tim doesn’t seem to care too much because it’s not brought up.

Tim shoves him off of Rainbow Road, and this is the part where Kon is supposed to attack the other boy with a pillow in retaliation, but he only spawns again and keeps playing. Tim doesn’t look at him.

It’s too quiet to be anything like when they were sixteen.

He can almost feel the tightrope they’ve been balancing on straining.

Eventually, Kon stretches his neck back and closes his eyes. There’s the sound of a car crash in the game and he knows it isn't his. Cautiously, Kon peeks one of his eyelids open and sees Tim staring at the ceiling like it owes him an explanation for why his life is going the way it is.

Kon hits the pause button and lies onto his back. He takes an unsteady breath. Another. Ma’s words bounce around in his head.

“We need to talk.”

Tim lies down next to him but doesn’t glance over. “Yeah.” His voice is very quiet.

Kon rolls over on his side to look at him. Tim’s eyes are determinedly fixed upwards and Kon lets out a small sigh. “Hey, look at me, please.”

Slowly, Tim’s gaze moves to him. His eyes are steely blue with grey around the pupils, and they look a little lost. There are faded smudges of purple beneath them and Kon wonders how he didn’t notice that earlier. His lips twitch down.

“When was the last time you slept?” Tim opens his mouth and Kon restates his question, “I mean really slept, Tim.”

Tim closes his mouth slowly and stares at the rug underneath them. “Not for a while.”

“Why not?”

A bitter laugh leaves the other boy’s throat, “Nightmares.”

Something cold squeezes Kon’s insides. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Their tightrope sways and Kon breathes and braces himself in case it snaps.

“What are they about?”

Tim’s breathing hitches and his steel eyes close tightly. “People I care about dying. You dying. What . . . What I did after.”

After. Because before and after Kon’s death is all that seems to exist these days. And what happened after had not been pretty. Not at all.

“Tim—”

Tim jumps to his feet, hands running through his slightly damp hair and eyes looking at anything other than him. Kon sits up and watches his friend walk frantically back and forth in front of the TV.

“Look, you don’t have to do this, Kon. You don’t—I’m—I’m fucked up. And I know I’m back with the team and we’ve been working together, but you don’t have to do this—” Tim gestures at the space between them vaguely—“if it freaks you out. If I freak you out. I did some messed up shit, Kon, you don’t have to stay.”

Tim doesn’t stop pacing as Kon slowly stands, the thick rug soft under his feet.

“And I get it. Really, I get it. I went—I went crazy without you. I mean, I fucking tried to clone you and now—” Tim's eyes are a little red, and he shakes his head at the ceiling—“It’s like we’re playing pretend, like everything is okay when it’s not. It’s not. I’m not. And you know that so why are you even still here?” Tim whirls around, hands splayed to the room.

Kon takes a small step towards him, palms open, like he's approaching a scared animal. The tightrope wobbles. “Because you’ve always been there for me; because you’re my friend.”

Another step and Tim’s staring at him almost in pain. “I’m not the same person I was, Kon. I—” Tim looks away, closes his eyes hard—“I can’t be the same kind of friend that you want.”

And that makes Kon pause because there could be something to unpack with that.

Tim’s cheekbones might be flushing, it’s hard to tell with the only light coming from their abandoned game, and Kon hopes they are. He really fucking hopes Tim’s implying what he thinks he’s implying. Carefully, he murmurs, “Do you think I’m the same too? Do you really think that after all the shit I’ve been through, I’d even want to be the same?” He moves closer. “That I’d want us to be the same?”

Tim goes very still like he’s never thought of this before. The tightrope swings dangerously above the chasm of complicated feelings and Kon feels like it’s rushing up to meet them with all the grace and speed of a runaway train.

The multicolored lights from the game play across Tim’s face. He watches them for a moment.

“Tim, listen, I’m still here whether you think I should be or not. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, okay? You haven’t scared me away, Rob. You’re not getting rid of me. I’m not leaving—not again.” Tim’s eyes are wide and Kon takes another tiny step towards him.

Tim is giving him a look, like what Kon’s saying makes a bit of sense before he sighs and shuts his eyes. “How are you so . . . ”

They’re really close now, and Kon can see the flickering of Tim’s eyelashes. His gaze drops down a little bit to Tim’s parted lips. “So?” Tim’s eyes open and he shakes his head slightly and doesn’t continue. He’s staring at Kon’s mouth, and Kon sees his tongue flash across his bottom lip, making it wet.

Fuck it, Kon thinks, and he leaps off the tightrope.

Tim tastes like peppermint tea, and he doesn’t move when Kon threads one of his hands through his hair and kisses him fiercely.

And Kon sorta hates himself a little bit, because there’s no way they’d still be able to be best friends after this if he misread everything. Sure, they could try, but Kon knows that it’ll all be forced and even more awkward than this entire evening has been, and one of the greatest friendships in his life is now lying possibly ruined on Tim’s bedroom floor.

He pulls away, a billion apologies already thundering through his head but they all stick in his throat, and he looks at the ground. Tim stares at him, eyes round.

“Shit, I’m so—”

Tim hauls him forward by his too-tight shirt and kisses him.

Oh.

Kon’s hands seem to understand what’s going on much faster than his brain because they’re quickly sliding back into Tim’s hair and along Tim’s neck and are tracing his jaw, and Tim is groaning, or maybe that’s Kon, it’s kinda hard to tell. Tim’s fingers grasp the Superboy logo at his chest, and his other hand presses against the side of Kon’s face. His thumb brushes Kon’s cheekbone and Kon makes another noise.

One of Kon’s hands slides down to grip Tim’s waist, pulling him closer until Tim is fully up against him; his muscles truly relaxed for the first time since God knows how long. Tim nips at Kon’s bottom lip then Kon’s mouth parts open and Tim’s tongue is in his mouth, and somebody taught Tim how to kiss because he’s really good at it.

Kon sends that somebody a silent thank you as the other boy’s lips suddenly escape Kon’s and move to his throat. Leaving him to pant against Tim's ear, more than slightly disoriented.

He's never wanted like this before, not with Cassie, not with Tana. Never wanted to touch and feel and know like he wants right now. Maybe it's because of all the built-up tension, but there's something so amazingly right about this. About the way Tim’s tongue traces down his neck, ending the trail with a small bite that Kon is sure would bruise if he was human, but only makes him drop his head back and groan.

He feels Tim grin against neck and Kon drags a palm up Tim’s back, under his shirt. Tim shivers, and now Kon’s the one who’s grinning as he brings his head back down to nip at Tim’s ear. He’s granted another shudder when he soothes the sting with his tongue, and Kon files away that interesting information for later.

Tim’s back is littered with scars, and even though Kon has seen them in the showers, he’s never gotten to touch them, and his fingers begin to map out where old battle wounds have healed over. He plays with the hem of Tim’s shirt, tugging lightly, and wonders if Tim’s even okay with going that far. Cause Kon’s totally fine with what they’re doing right now if Tim isn’t cool with losing clothes yet—

Tim takes a step back and for a second Kon’s about to apologize, but Tim only rips off his t-shirt, gaze hot blue steel and completely fixed on him.

Jesus.

The sound that leaves Kon’s throat might be a whimper as the other boy immediately goes back to kissing his nape. And there’s bare skin now, and Tim’s rolling his hips, and Kon wouldn’t mind moving to a horizontal surface. Or a wall.

Honestly, he’s pretty sure he could pull off something in the air if he wanted to.

He’s also definitely hard now. Definitely.

Their mouths meet and Tim is laughing into him before pulling back just enough so that Kon can look at his eyes. They’re amused and full of something that Kon can’t put into the right words at the moment.

Tim laughs again before murmuring against his jaw, “You’re floating.”

Kon blinks.

He looks at his feet and, yeah, he’s an inch or two off the ground, hovering from excitement. He lowers himself down, and his ears feel hot, but Tim’s still grinning at him so he’s not too embarrassed.

Kon kisses him again and then one of Tim’s hands interlocks with his and tugs him in the direction of the bedroom.

They end up falling against a wall just outside of the doorway, Kon’s shoulders pressing into the drywall while Tim’s hands play with the edge of his boxers. Tim pulls away suddenly, brows making a little crease as he brings them together.

“Is this okay?”

Kon bobs his head up and down, breathless and giddy. “This is very much okay. Trust me, I am so, so okay with this.”

Tim grins, and it’s so goddamn real, and hauls him into his room.

He barely notices the paper-covered desk on one side and the big skylights on the ceiling. There’s only Tim, smiling warmly in the dark with the pitter-patter of the rain above as they stumble their way to the bed.

Kon’s back hits the mattress, Tim’s knees on either side of his waist, and he’s pressing Kon into the sheets, mouth hot and wet. One of Kon’s hand drops to Tim’s ass and tugs the other boy down so that the space between them disappears, and fuck Tim’s just as hard as he is and a startled moan comes out of one of them.

The kiss breaks when Tim leans back, and all of his weight is right on Kon’s dick, and Kon couldn’t keep his hips from bucking up even if he wanted to. Tim’s reaching for the bottom of his Superboy shirt, pulling it off so it lands on the floor and thank God for Kon’s TTK; because when Tim leans up on his knees, Kon’s able to slip his shorts off without having to move his hands from Tim’s hair.

For a second, all Kon can do is stare.

Tim is skin and scars above him, and there’s a slash of healing red on his thigh, like he’d been cut there at some recent point. His cock is slender and long and flushed a darker pink than the blush on his cheeks. Kon distantly wonders what it might taste like.

Tim raises an eyebrow and snaps the elastic of Kon’s boxers.

Kon shivers and then laughs when he flips them over and Tim yelps as he hits the bed.

It barely takes a second for Tim to recover and scowl up at Kon who grins in response. Then Tim’s hands are dragging down Kon’s ass, taking his underwear with them. Kon kicks the clothes off the bed and turns back to see Tim’s eyes moving over his body until they meet Kon’s gaze.

The hunger from earlier fades a bit.

He stares at Tim for a second, at the small smile on his face, and feels warmth spread all the way down to his fingertips.

Slowly, Tim lifts his head and presses his lips against Kon’s, still tasting like tea. One of his hands reaches up to Kon’s hair, tugging it gently, and Kon lowers himself until their bodies are lined up and he can feel the slide of Tim’s cock against his own. A shaky moan falls from Tim’s open mouth, and Kon shudders against him. He forces his thoughts to line up coherently.

"Lube?" He manages, and Tim is nodding against his neck before arching back to rummage through the nightstand next to the bed. The motion gives both of them some more amazing friction and Kon's grip tightens as Tim's hips jerk against him. The other boy mutters something, too low for Kon to clearly make out as he half grabs the lube and half continues to grind up in these little, smooth movements that are going to drive Kon insane.

Finally, Tim is pressing the bottle into his hand, and Kon focuses on uncapping the stupid thing while Tim snickers at his clumsiness beneath him. And Kon would be embarrassed, except this is Tim so he's laughing too; and he moves his hand from his friend’s jaw, down to the open bottle, and then further to take Tim in his now wet palm.

“Fuck.” There’s a groan against his neck, and Tim knots his hands further into Kon’s hair.

Tim is pulsing in his hand, heavy and solid, and Kon drops the lube because he’s so caught up in the feeling. Kon lets his thumb circle the tip of the other boy’s leaking cock before beginning to stroke up and down the length of it. Tim trembles.

“We should do this again,” Kon says conversationally, and Tim lightly slaps the back of his head. Kon twists his fist in retaliation and that makes Tim’s hips stutter and his back arch again.

“Yeah, sure, why not?” Tim’s voice is wrecked, gasping out the words, and he really wouldn’t mind making Tim sound like this more often.

His hand moves faster, and Tim is pushing back, thrusting up against Kon’s fist, heels digging into the bedsheets. He brings his mouth to where Tim’s neck meets his shoulder, licking before biting down. Tim cries out, and Kon’s dick twitches in response because holy shit that’s hot.

He uncurls his grasp and runs his fingers up the underside of Tim’s cock. A string of curses streams out of Tim’s mouth, along with what Kon’s pretty sure is his name. He repeats the motion, watching the way Tim's pants are becoming more and more ragged. Kon moves his head lower, lips trailing to one nipple, and he breathes over it wetly before flicking his tongue out and tasting skin.

Tim’s hands clutch at his hair as Kon marks his way across his chest, and Kon knows he’s close, can feel the way Tim is shaking and gripping on to him harder than before. He brushes his fingers against Tim's cock again, too gentle to really grant any relief.

“Damnit, Kon, please!”  And how could he say no to that?

It takes three hard strokes to make Tim gasp and come, white spilling into Kon’s hand and onto their stomachs.

Tim slumps into the mattress, eyes closed, sprawled open, chest rising and falling with deep breaths. Kon presses his thumb over the slit of Tim’s dick and the other boy whines shakily and gives a little roll of his hips, face glazing with pleasure.

Then, Tim blinks up at him, still completely blissed out, and Kon sears that sight into his memory. Without looking away, Kon passes his fingers through the mess on his stomach and brings them to his mouth. His tongue curls around one fingertip and Tim’s eyes flicker with the motion. It doesn’t taste that bad. A bit bitter and salty, maybe, but the narrowing of Tim’s stare is totally worth it.

The ache between his legs throbs.

Tim smirks up at him.

Kon is flipped onto his back, Tim doing some crazy Bat-move to get him there, and he blinks up at the skylights, Tim nowhere in sight. Then he feels strong hands on his thighs and a breath over his hip and oh.

That’s where he went.

Tim’s mouth is hot and wet and fucking amazing, and Kon has never been so thankful that Damian’s room is nowhere near Tim’s and that the house is nearly empty. His moan is loud enough that there’s no way someone wouldn’t hear him. He manages to lift his neck to look down at where Tim’s tongue is wrapping around the head of his cock and meets Tim’s smooth gaze. There’s a smug glint in his eyes, and now Tim’s mouth is going lower, taking in more, and Kon nearly sobs.

One of his hands reaches down, palming dark hair and rubbing Tim’s head with his fingers. Tim hums, and the vibrations from that one single sound make Kon’s hips jerk and his dick slide into Tim’s throat a little further. And this is definitely something they need to do again, because it's so good and Kon wants.

He wants and fuck, fuck how is Tim fucking Drake somehow a goddamn wet dream in bed? How?

Kon’s other hand scrabbles at the pillows above him, trying to anchor himself, but that’s hard to do when Tim is doing something with his tongue that makes Kon nearly start begging when he pulls away. He looks back down where Tim's lips have left his dick and been replaced with his hand, since Tim is now biting the insides of his thighs. A small part of Kon curses at his skin's stupid invulnerability because the thought of being covered in bruises left from Tim's mouth is ridiculously hot.

Suddenly he feels intense heat in the back of his eyes, his vision turning red at the edges, and Kon screws his stare shut. He does not want to set Tim on fire during the middle of a blow job. That would be so uncool.

He hears Tim laugh at him from between his legs, so he lightly shoves at his friend's side with his foot. Tim's mouth goes back to his cock and Kon groans.

His fingers tangle in the other boy’s hair. “Tim—”

Tim only sucks harder.

Kon arches and comes with a loud curse. Distantly he feels Tim swallow, and that causes him to shiver, grind his hips up into Tim’s mouth just a bit. He rubs his eyes, the heat vision already fading away. His body feels loose, good.

Tim pulls off of his cock and sits up, wiping at the corner of his mouth, and Kon blinks at him, dazed.

His hair is messy from Kon’s hands and damp with sweat, sticking to the corners of his face. His nape, chest, and shoulders are littered with several marks that are definitely gonna bruise, and that makes Kon feel oddly pleased with himself.

Tim is watching him, rubbing his thumb in little circles over Kon’s hipbone, lips twitched upwards. Kon doesn't really want to move, so he tugs at Tim’s hand gently until the other boy leans down, grabs his shorts off the bed, and cleans up the mess on their skin. This isn’t quite what Kon wants, and he makes a dissatisfied noise and tugs again. Tim rolls his eyes and throws the clothing to a corner of the room before lying on top of Kon, muttering, “Like you’d want to be covered with that while you’re sleeping.”

Kon doesn’t bother answering, and only buries his face into Tim’s shoulder, grinning. Tim still smells a bit like rain and body wash, but now there’s a linger of sex over that, and Kon runs his hands up and down Tim’s warm back, breathing him in.

Tim exhales against his neck and plays with the slightly curly strands of hair at the base of Kon’s head.

Kon practically melts into the pillows.

Tim goes stiff in his arms.

“This—” Tim sits up, legs entangled with Kon’s, and puts a hand on Kon's bare chest—“This isn’t a one-time thing, right?” Tim’s voice is a guilty whisper, scared almost, as if Kon is already regretting what just happened. “You’re not going to leave?”

Kon stares at him for a second, disbelief and hurt curling around his heart.

Then he remembers all the funerals that Tim’s had to go to in the past year. He remembers the one time he went to Tim’s house, back when his parents were both still alive, and how empty it was. He remembers asking Tim where his folks were, and how Tim had gotten very quiet before shrugging and muttering that he didn’t know.

Slowly, Kon sits up, Tim still in his lap, and examines the other boy’s face.

“Hey, I’m not gonna go anywhere.”

Tim sags against him, like the weight of the world has slid right off his shoulders. “That was a stupid question.”

“It wasn’t.” Kon brushes back a piece of hair that fell in front of Tim’s forehead. He kisses him softly. “I get it. It wasn’t.”

He doesn’t move until Tim nods in agreement.

Kon pulls him back down and uses his TTK to slide the thick covers over them. Tim shifts around so they can meet each other’s gaze. Something snags in the back of Kon’s mind.

“Ma wants you to come over for dinner, by the way.”

Tim laughs, the sound soft in the dark.

“Sure.”

Kon reaches over and smooths his thumb across Tim’s cheek, still flushed from earlier, before kissing him again. Tim makes a pleased noise and returns the action, his hand going to Kon’s waist to tug him closer.

They break apart, dropping back onto the pillows, Kon’s fingers tracing over the scars on Tim’s arm. Tim blinks sleepily at him but raises a brow. “So, are you going with that name Jon made up?” He brushes back several strands of Kon’s hair. “Supernova?”

Kon closes his eyes and leans into Tim’s palm. “Has a nice ring to it.”

Tim nods, tapping his fingertips against Kon’s temple thoughtfully.

“Whatever you say, Superdude.”

Kon whacks him with a pillow.

*****

When he opens his eyes, he can’t speak.

He can’t speak because there are tubes in his throat, up his nose, pumping him with oxygen. The steady humming of droning machines fills his ears. He stares.

Everything’s green, but not like the green of Ma’s spring flowers, this green is sick and presses down on him from all sides. And he’s surrounded by something wet and slimy, little bubbles rising past his face like he's in a fish tank. He tries to shake his head, but everything feels heavy even though he's only suspended in the liquid around him. Blurry figures walk towards him, muffled voices fading in and out.

There’s the sound of thudded tapping on the glass. He starts to focus, but still isn’t able to blink the wet stuff out of his eyes.

He sees white coats, Cadmus printed on the pocket.

Fuck, fuck.

“Kon?”

There’s a beam of light shining in his face, causing the green to glow, almost like kryptonite but so much worse. It makes him want to throw up. Want to run.

“Kon.”

There's something else too, moving in on him from the corners of his eyes. Something creeping and peaceful, heavy and familiar in the worst way.

He remembers it, how it settled down on him as he lay surrounded by crushed metal and begging friends, his bones broken, lungs gasping with final breaths. It had been dark and calm and he hadn't wanted to go, but it had closed in on him anyway. And he can't go back, he can't.

There's a fist pounding in front of him, and the voices don't match the furious knocking, too cold and clean.

He tries to thrash away from the glass, tries to get away. But he can’t move, weighed down, and even though there’s air in his lungs, he can’t breathe.

“Conner!”

Kon's back hits the mattress and he shoots up, gulping down mouthfuls of oxygen. There are hands running over his back, his shoulders, a worried voice somewhere behind him. His eyes flit around his surroundings. No green, no waiting darkness. He can breathe. Raindrops are hitting the glass above him. Tim’s room. Safe.

This is safe.

He runs a sweaty hand through his hair, shaking. His arm brushes his cheek and he realizes that his face is wet. He hasn’t had one of those dreams in a long time; he’d forgotten what they were like.

“Hey.” Kon looks behind him. Tim is rubbing a spot between his shoulder blades, eyes alert, biting his lip. The sheets are pooled around his waist haphazardly.

Kon twists the patterned covers in his hands.

“What happened?”

He looks up through the dark. Tim’s fingers go over his shoulder. “Nightmare.” He wants to forget it. Forget the labs, and the endless experiments, and all the goddamn green. “Cadmus.”

Tim doesn’t make any sounds, but Kon can almost hear his brain whirring at full speed.

His breathing is too loud in the quiet.

“What do you need?” Tim’s voice is patient.

He fists the cloth in his grip. Opens his mouth, shuts it. Tries again. “Just—Keep doing that.” Tim’s hands run down his skin, grounding and warm, and Kon begins to relax into them.

“Does touch help?” Tim is near his ear, and Kon feels lips press lightly across his neck. He nods.

“Yeah, it—It helps me feel . . . “ He shuts his eyes. “Human. It helps me feel human.”

Tim places a kiss at the corner of his jaw. “Okay.” He presses his back against Tim’s scarred chest, and the other boy leans backward so they’re lying down again. Kon rests his head over where Tim’s heart is beating steadily. He listens to the familiar sound, to the rain, to Tim's breathing; ignores the distant honks of traffic and chattering crowds of Gotham.

He exhales slowly, lets his shoulders loosen under Tim's hands. He closes his eyes.

“Thanks.”

Fingers run through his hair.

“You’re welcome.”

Kon doesn’t move for a long time. Neither does Tim.

*****

It’s still raining when Kon wakes up the second time, but there’s a bit of grey sunlight coming through the skylights; enough for him to drowsily blink at the ceiling. He groans and rolls over, towards the warmth by his side.

Warmth.

Tim.

He’s completely awake now, lifting himself up onto his forearms. Curiously, Kon examines the boy next to him. Tim’s still asleep, heartbeat slow and calm, his back facing Kon though their legs are tangled together. The covers had slipped a bit during the night and Kon can see the pale scars his mouth had mapped out hours ago.

He touches a jagged one, curved like someone had carved it in, and smooths his fingertip down it. He moves to the next. Distantly, Kon wonders if he’d get to go over all of them, even if that could take a while because Tim has so many. He doesn’t mind. His fingers trace across an old bullet wound.

Saturday mornings can last a while.

Tim shifts, back leaving Kon’s touch, shoulders rolling into a stretch. He watches the muscles under Tim’s skin bunch together and move apart. His friend flops over to look at him.

Tim's eyelids are drooping as he yawns into his pillow. “What time is it?”

Kon lifts himself up and glances at the digital clock on the nightstand. “Eightish." Before he lies back down, his eyes catch on a little picture frame next to the clock.

It's a recent photo, he can tell from the haircut he has in it, and he can easily place the day when it was taken.

Bart had insisted on dragging them with him to go shopping for dorm furniture, which Kon didn't understand considering the extremely tiny size of Bart's room at Keystone University, but whatever. They had stopped for ice cream, sat outside and watched people stroll by.

He doesn't remember the exact moment from the picture itself, maybe Bart had said something funny or maybe one of Tim's dry quips had sent them all into laughter. Either way, it ended with a photo that Cassie must have taken; with Bart leaning inside the frame with a huge grin on his face, him with his head thrown back, smiling, and Tim laughing at both of them.

He stares at it, feels a dopey smile stretch across his face.    

Tim hums, watching Kon lazily. “I forgot that you sleepfloat.”

His eyes flick back to Tim.

“I what?”

“Sleepfloat.” Tim lifts the one brow that’s not burrowed into his pillow and gestures vaguely with his hand. “You know, you’ll start hovering sometimes, usually when you’re dreaming?” He frowns. “That’s one of the reasons I knew you were having a nightmare; you were almost half a foot off the bed. Usually, you only go up, like, barely an inch.”

Kon continues staring at him because what?

“Since when do I sleepfloat?”

Tim blinks. “Uh, since forever. It doesn't happen a lot, I thought you knew?”

He shakes his head. Tim laughs lightly, the sound muffled by fabric, and Kon sorta wants to kiss him. He also sorta wants breakfast. “Do you guys have some kind of scheduled eating time on the weekends?”

Tim ducks further under the covers. “Not really, I can ask Alfred to make something. Or we can raid the pantries.”

Kon thinks for a moment. He doesn’t know what time Alfred wakes up, but for some reason, he wants to avoid asking for anything. Wants to stay in this bubble where it’s only Tim and him for a little bit longer.

“What if we make pancakes?”

Tim’s cheeks suddenly turn red and he mumbles under his breath. Kon pokes him in the shoulder, silently asking for a repeat of the comment. The other boy sighs.

“I’m . . . currently banned from using the kitchen.”

Kon tilts his head. “We were in there last night. You made tea.”

It had been good tea. It had been especially good when he’d gotten to taste it off of Tim’s mouth.

Tim grumbles, “Fine. I’m currently banned from using the oven, stove, grill, and microwave for anything other than boiling water.”

Kon's eyes narrow. “What did you do?”

Tim hesitates. “I may have created several small, controlled explosions.”

“You what?”

“They were small.”

“Oh my God, that’s not the point.” Kon’s kinda snickering now, and Tim is too, and Kon really wants to kiss him again. So he does.

Tim’s smiling when he pulls away, and Kon presses their foreheads together. “How about I make us food, yeah?” Their noses brush and Tim’s arms wrap around his neck. His lips move against Kon’s when he nods in agreement.

“Yeah.”

Their legs intertwine even more, and the next kiss is heated, Tim’s hands dragging across Kon’s skin in a way that reminds him of last night. He resists the urge to push their hips completely together. When they break for air, Tim’s cheekbones are lightly flushed, and he’s smirking in a way that makes Kon remember the grin bad guys see right before Red Robin turns all their careful plans to shit.

Tim pushes Kon over onto his back, lips suddenly much more demanding, and straddles his waist. Kon kisses him back just as fervently, mouth following Tim’s a bit when the other boy suddenly pulls away.

Tim’s eyes are catching the cool morning light in all the right ways and Kon’s heart trips over its feet.

Then Tim isn't on his lap, sliding off the bed and walking away. And okay, that’s a bit rude, but Kon gets to stare at Tim’s ass, so he’s not going to complain just yet. But then Tim tosses him a grin over his shoulder, meeting Kon’s gaze smugly before reaching down and grabbing something off the floor. He comes back up, pulling on the piece of clothing smoothly.

Kon’s mouth drops open.

Tim gives him an amused glance, seemingly unconcerned with the Superboy logo stretching across his chest. Because apparently, Tim has filled out enough that he can now wear Kon’s old shirts without drowning in fabric. When that happened, Kon has no idea, but he certainly doesn’t mind.

Tim cocks an eyebrow. “Pancakes? You coming or not?”

Kon tries to make words leave his throat, but only manages a strangled, “Hngh.” Tim nods, like this is an answer, pivots on his foot, and leaves the room. Kon stares after him. He buries his burning face in his hands.

It’s too early for Tim to do things like this to him.

With a sigh of resignation, he gets off the bed and, after some searching, puts on his boxers. When he walks out of the doorway, he’s hit in the face with a large Gotham Knights sweatshirt and his jeans. He shoots Tim a displeased grunt and tugs the sweatshirt over his head. Tim’s wearing some flannel pajama pants now, which is rather disappointing, but the Superboy shirt is still on so Kon takes pleasure from that.

After pulling on his no-longer-wet jeans, he floats to where Tim is leaning against the wall and kisses him in a way that would make old ladies scandalized. Tim’s face has dropped its smugness when they break apart, and he seems slightly dazed.

Kon pecks his jaw for good measure. “Food?”

He gets a slow nod in return. Kon grins and walks out of Tim’s room with a little bounce in his step. He hears Tim mutter a curse and scramble after him, and he laughs.

The light filling the Manor’s halls is weak, but it’s enough to create streaking shadows on the walls as Kon runs down the corridor with Tim hot on his heels. Their feet pound down the stairs and Kon might use a tiny bit of superspeed to get to the kitchen first.

Tim enters seconds after him and slumps against the kitchen island even though he’s barely out of breath. He points an accusing finger at Kon. “Cheater.”

Kon grins and starts opening up random cabinets, hoping to find a mixing bowl. “Maybe.” He spies one and sets it on the island. “Where’s the flour?” The other boy gestures to the pantry and then lifts himself to sit on the counter.

Kon can feel Tim’s eyes on him as he moves around the room, finding and taking the ingredients he needs. Every once in a while, their gazes meet and little smiles appear.

If he's honest with himself, Kon has no idea what this new thing between them is exactly. But he thinks it’s good. Tim glances at him again as he begins to mix the batter, eyes lighter than they’ve been in a while.

It’s pretty good.

Tim slips off his perch and pads up behind him, resting his chin on Kon’s shoulder. “Last time I watched you make pancakes was at the farm. You almost caught the house on fire.” Kon shrugs.

“Ma’s made it her personal mission that I know how to move around a kitchen. She’s had me baking and cooking a lot since I came back from—” He stops himself. Memories from the nightmare surface, cool darkness waiting for him to fall. He shivers, looks down at the pancake batter, suddenly feeling like he's going to be sick. He forces himself to take a deep breath.

Tim is stiff behind him, hands fisting into his sweatshirt, and Kon could punch himself in the face. He really could.

“Dude?”

Tim unfreezes, leans his forehead against the back of Kon’s neck. Kon can feel his fingers clenching and unclenching the fabric.

They’re quiet for several beats.

“You get it, right? That I’m not okay? Not entirely?” Tim sounds so tired like this is the kind of thing he tells himself every night, and it makes Kon’s stomach twist. He turns around, strokes his thumb over Tim’s cheekbone, makes sure that Tim is looking him in the eyes.

“Yeah, man, I understand.” He thinks of the chemical green and the even darker things that crawl into his mind during the bad nights. He shudders. “I’m not either.” He tilts his head, brow furrowing. “Is that okay with you?”

Tim examines him for a long moment; his eyes probably seeing more of Kon than Kon could see in himself. And whatever Tim sees makes him lean in a bit closer.

“Yeah, it is. And this,” he taps Kon’s chest, right above his heart, “us?”

Kon brushes back several strands of Tim’s hair, thinking carefully.

“Whatever you want. I’m good with just staying friends, though, you know, the sex could be pretty awesome.” Tim snorts. “But I wouldn’t mind taking this somewhere,” he says and laces their hands together. “I really wouldn’t mind.”

Tim smiles. “Yeah?”

Kon smiles back.

“Yeah.”

Lips press against his and Kon’s hand threads through Tim’s hair, his back pushing into the counter as Tim steps closer.

Tim laughs, his fingers going around the spoon in Kon’s drooping grasp, probably to keep pancake batter from going everywhere. There’s the clatter of wood hitting ceramic as Tim drops the spoon into the bowl, and Kon distantly wonders if they’ll ever actually get around to eating breakfast.

But Tim’s mouth is lazy and open and a hell of a lot better than pancakes.

He drapes his arms around Tim's neck as the other boy's palms smooth around his waist, drawing him closer.  

So much better than pancakes.

“It seems that I will be tasked to make my own breakfast since you two seem quite intent on being occupied.”

Kon’s lips leave Tim's and his head whips to where Damian is standing in the doorway, arms crossed and mouth an unimpressed line.

Shit.

His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. He desperately looks back at Tim, who seems just as surprised since he only manages a weak, “Um.”

Damian sniffles and Alfred the cat waltzes into the room and rubs around the boy’s legs. Damian leans down and picks the cat up, managing to keep his narrowed eyes on them the whole time. Tim’s hands still haven’t moved from where they’d just begun playing with the hair at Kon’s nape, his fingers rubbing at the base of Kon’s neck. It’s a little distracting. Kon tries to think of something to say and clears his throat awkwardly.

“Uh, you want pancakes?”

Damian raises an eyebrow and pets the top of Alfred’s head. “Later, perhaps. Both of you appear . . . busy. Besides, I need to tell Pennyworth that he won our bet from last night, considering how I thought it’d take you two another week to figure yourselves out.”

Kon blinks. “You . . . made a bet on us?”

The kid nods almost regretfully. “Which I have unfortunately lost.” His sharp eyes stare at the batter pointedly. “Though you could make up for it with food. I prefer chocolate chips in my pancakes, don’t forget.”

Slowly, Kon bobs his head up and down. “Yeah, sure.”

Damian flashes him what might be a tiny smile, but then he turns on his heel and walks out of the room, footsteps and Alfred’s purrs echoing down the hall.

Tim’s gaze clears, and Kon can see his brain rebooting. Then Tim shoots him a disgruntled look. “Aren’t Supers supposed to have super hearing?”

Kon shrugs. “I was distracted.”

Tim shakes his head at the ceiling while his hands run through Kon’s hair. Kon places a kiss on his neck.

Tim swats the back of his head. “New rule: No making out when siblings or parents could be lurking behind corners.”

Kon grumbles, “You have too many siblings for that to be realistic.”

“That’s true.” His lips press against Tim’s throat again, and he feels Tim breathe in a shaky laugh. “I take it back. The new rule is not to get caught making out when siblings or parents could be lurking behind corners.”

“You may wish to add butlers to that as well, Master Timothy.”

They leap apart.

Kon’s eyes dart to where Alfred is standing by the entrance to the dining room, not looking very impressed. He can feel his face quickly growing hot under the man’s unreadable stare, and he folds his hands behind his back like a six-year-old who had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Tim mutters something under his breath as his hand rubs the back of his neck, and the old man’s brow lifts.

“Would you care to repeat that, Master Timothy?”

Tim straightens up, and Kon can see the tips of ears are bright red. “No?”

“That’s what I thought.” He turns to Kon calmly. “And how are you, Mr. Kent?” Kon’s eyes flicker to where Tim is looking like he wants to jump off a cliff in mortification. His lips twitch upwards just a little, he hears an impatient cough. He glances back to Alfred nervously.

When did the old butler get so scary?

“Pretty good, um,” he distantly remembers something from last night, “Ma wants to ask for your snickerdoodle recipe.” He resists the urge to smooth out the sweatshirt he’s wearing as Alfred studies him. He gives a weak smile. “She’s offered to give you her instructions for blueberry pie as an incentive.”

Alfred considers him for a moment.

“Well, then I suppose I shall have to talk to her then.” He gives them both a knowing side-eye. “And do remember that the kitchen is for food and that there are plenty of private rooms in this house for more . . . lascivious activities.”

Kon wishes he could sink into the floor.

Tim drops his face in his hands. “Thanks, Alfred,” he mumbles.

Alfred brushes an invisible speck of dust off of his sleeve. “Now, excuse me, I do believe I have a wager to collect from Master Damian.” He begins to walk out of the room but stops and gives Kon a smart glance. “And please make sure that Master Timothy doesn’t start any more fires in this kitchen than he already has, Mr. Kent.”

Tim’s head shoots up with a look of betrayal and Kon has to bite his lip to keep from sniggering.

“Yes, sir.”

Alfred’s steps are unruffled as he continues into the hall. “Considering how I’m sure you’ll be around this house much more often, you may as well as call me Alfred.”

Kon’s face grows warmer.

“Um, sure thing, Alfred.”

The butler dips his head in approval and leaves. Kon can hear him begin to whistle a cheerful tune a couple of rooms away.

It takes both of them several seconds to be able to look at each other. Tim’s cheeks puff out as he exhales slowly, his ears are still pink. Kon rubs the hardwood floor with his toe. “So, uh . . . Huh.”

“We need to work on your multitasking. Things like using your super hearing while you’re . . . being distracted.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?”

“Shut it, Superdude, and make our food.”

“That rhymed.”

“I don’t know why I like you.”

“I’ll remind you exactly why later tonight.”

Tim smacks him with a dish towel, and Kon laughs before kissing him again.

[jadedsnowtiger]

Rachel didn't care for the mall. It was loud, too bright and far too many people around. The emotions were hard to contain, but Gar needed shoes. He bribed her to come, promising tea and a new book.

Tim and Conner joined to get out of the tower, as the four of them walked down the hallway.

"I don't know, what about chicken?" Rachel asked Conner who was deciding what to eat for lunch.

"Fries or baked?" Conner asked, as Rachel looked at Tim.

He was busy staring at the lingerie in the window, something she loved about Tim was he was coming to terms with himself and his sexuality, but he was nervous about expressing it.

"You like it?" Conner asked gently, noticing Tim watching though the window. Tim nodded.

"It's nice, Rea?" Gar looked at the white fabric.

The white teddy was nice enough, the future she could go without, Rachel didn't get the hype caused by them.

But here was Tim, looking like a kid at the toy store.

"Do you want Rachel to try it on for you? better curves than that block." Gar suggested. Being the female in the group, Rachel and Gar both agreed to help in any way they could. Rachel even told Tim she would go shopping with him, to prevent questions.

Tim was holding back, his excitement was glowing.

Bitting her lip Rachel looked it over,

"Does it come in purple?" Rachel asked, as Tim just glowed, before pulling her into the shop.

"Hi, the white set in the window, does it come in purple?" Tim asked, holding Rachel's hand.

Rachel knew she was blushing, as she bit back every emotion, holding on to Tim.

The saleswoman doesn't look up from her paperwork nodding as points to the display.

Tim pulled her along, almost stimming from excitement, as he started to look though the rack.

Rachel joined, as she noticed she didn't know, what to look for.

"Um.. what size?" Rachel looks unsure. "I honestly don't know, Tim."

"Bra size, you last measured at 36." Tim nodded, as he seemed to slip into business mode. "What is your cup size?"

'Umm...D?" She guesses

"Really?" Tim looked at her in surprise.

"Trust me, the back issues are real." She shakes her head.

Tim is bouncing with excitement giving her a high, as he finds the item they are looking for.

"Here." Tim passes her the found item, and he shakes as he pulls out a red version. "I think this one will fit me."

"Get it." Rachel encouraged him. "Conner will enjoy it."

She is blushing hard again, taking his hand. "Come let's go home and play dress up."

"God, I wish we could have wine." Conner sat down heavily into the bed, as Krypto joined his side.

"You sure Conner and I can watch, this is a lot Mama." Gaŕ speak softly holding her hand as they stood in Rachel's bedroom.

"We are pushing my emotions right?" She. With a smile."Our pack, my boys."

Tom and Conner nodded. They had promised to help her work though the emotion, no matter how long it took, or how many things she exploded.

"Besides, who in this room hasn't seen me in some state of undress?" She was nervous, but this was fact.

Gar couldn't argue.

"I promised you." She turns to Tim. Standing aside as if he was waiting for permission. Nodding Rachel puts her arms up, as he pulls off her top, bouncing in his spot as he works.

Rachel found herself laughing instead of being awkward or weird. It was hard not to drown in the feelings of love and appreciation, as they filled her heart and soul.

Tim was humming as he turned her around undoing her bra.

"You know, I am jealous of your chest." He laughs into her ear shyly.

"You can take them!" She laughs softly looking down at herself. "Stupid demon body. I could have been a succubus!"

The excitement in the room jumped, as the bathroom mirror exploded.

Tim laughs freely behind her. "Succubus?"

"Yes." She is high from everyone in the room's laughter, as she turns to him. "Think of the power I could hold!"

"Look at the power you have!" Conner explained. "So fucking sexy, you break goddamn mirrors!"

All laugh, as Rachel looked around to notice it had been crushed by a wave of nerves, as she noticed her state of undress and covered herself.

"They are right Mama." Gar smiles with a wink. "If you could look into a mirror, you would see the power you hold over men."

Rachel whimpered, before she knew Tim wrapped around her. Rachel was having issues accepting such complaints, but she needed to hear them.

"Enough praise, let's get the corset on you?" Tim kisses her head. "No more thinking."

Rachel nods as he begins to work.

Rachel stood with her back to Gar and Conner, as Tim hummed excited tiring up the corset patting her ass once he was done.

"Let us see!"

Blushing, and drowning in Tim's excitement, she turned around to show the boys how she looked.

"Damn." Conner straighten up his stance.

"That's a succubus alright." Gar agreed, as he sat up.

"My perfect doll!" Tim hugged her tightly. "Thank you, thank you!'

Rachel hugged him back. "Now we put yours on."

"Yes!" Tim moved around excited, stripping off his top. "Oh! I got this new underwear to help me tuck, and I got these!"

Rachel looked at the box. "What?"

"Silicon breast!" He told them excitedly, "I got a B cup to start."

Rachel just nodded, he was so excited. Tim ran around the room, changing his underwear, as he started to put the teddy, Gar passed Rachel his flash with a wink, as she slipped back the vodka, thankful for something to dull all the emotions, and Tim's little ass.

"Tie me up?" Tim asked, as she wiped her mouth.

Please. Raven purred, as Rachel turned to Gar.

"Sure." Rachel nodded. "I might not know clothing, but I know my way around a corset."

Gar laughed gently, his eyes on her, as Conner was only interested in Tim's happiness.

"These first? Or after?" Tim looked to the box.

"First." Rachel looked to the box, "or your boobs will not fit once you're tied in."

Tim jumped for the box, pulling out the silicone.

Rachel just looked to the fake breast and smiled, as Tim put them on his chest.

"It's cold!" He cried out.

"Pain is beauty, or some bullshit." Rachel told him, turning him around as she worked the ties.

"Tim has boobs!" Gar loved the view, as Rachel looked up.

"Tim is perfect." Rachel nodded, as she worked his ties.

His small body fit in to the teddy perfectly, as she tired his corset. He was smaller than her, and his ass was more perfect, or so she thought.

"Okay, what do we think?" Rachel asked, as she patted Tim's back, turning him to the mirror.

Tim looked pretty good, his long hair was a mess from his stimming, but he was happy to stand in front of the mirror.

"There she is." Tim told himself, as he looked into the mirror. "That's Catherine."

"Hello, Catherine." Rachel smiled gently. She wasn't aware there was a name to this yet but Catherine was a solid name.

"Gar, go to my room and grab make up and those wigs." She had a few from doing undercover work.

"Conner?" Tim blushed, as he pointed under the bed.

"She's in here." Conner pulled out the box with a nod. "Extensions and makeup."

Rachel sat down, as Tim flooded her excitedly as he jumped around.

"You good, Mama?" Gar asked gently.

"Drunk." She admitted with a giggle, covering her mouth, as she wrapped her arm around her legs.

"Look at those legs!" Gar cheered gently moving closer to her. "Are you hiding?"

She nodded, as he kissed her head.

"Look at how happy Tim is." Gar told her gently rubbing her back. "Trust that I got you, experience it, blow up all the lights in the tower, if you have to."

Rachel looked up, smiling through tears of happiness, as Tim was sitting in Corner lap doing his makeup, as Conner played with the hair extensions.

Gar played with her kissing her head, understanding her tears, as she looked happy.

The lights blow out, as Conner lights a candle for Tim, who worked like nothing had changed.

Gar rubbed her shoulders softly, "Breathe and experience this."

Rachel understood why this was important, she never played dress up, she didn't have girl friends, but she had these guys.

"Hey! The lights went out-" Bart zoomed into the room, "I was traninging with Dick, and boom!"

"Get on your dress!" Tim told him, pointing to the wardrobe.

"Yes!" Bart jumped into the wardrobe, as Rachel looked, Bart, like herself would do anything for Tim. Though, Bart preferred skirts.

"He's good." Tim looked at Rachel with a smile, "We got this dance in the works too!"

"Drag tiktok!" Came from the wardrobe.

"He wants to do Tiktok- Bruce would kill me, just because I'm not out, PR nightmare." Tim laughed. "Too bad, I made my own version for shits and giggles, stop me now Bruce!"

"Can we send him one today?" Bart asked, as he walked out of the closet. The pale blue sundress was adorable, as the door broke.

Bart just spins in place, watching the bottom move with him.

"I don't know, he hasn't pissed me off yet, we can keep them though, like always." Tim nodded, blushing as Bart pulled out a ring light.

"You better work." Bart threatened the light, turning it on. "Yes!"

"How will you make videos with only one light source?" Rachel asked, confused.

"I got lanterns." Tim turned to her, as she fought with the fake eyelashes. "Bright ones."

Bart pulled them out. "Tada!"

Rachel wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry, Tim thought of everything. Gar rubbed her shoulders as she reached up petting his hand.

Gar kissed her hand, as he worked her shoulders gently. "Just enjoy your boys."

"Where is your dress?" She teases softly.

"Shoulders are too wide." Gar laughed gently. "I don't have the breast for strapless"

The chair broke, as Rachel laughed, Gar caught her as she fell.

"I'll order another one." Tim didn't even care.

Gar sat down, pulling her into his lap, holding her gently.

The room was now lit up, making Gars eyes glow as they watched her, she lay her head on to his chest. Gar kissed her head, as he held her close.

"Dance dance!" Bart moved around in his sundress, doing something stupid dance.

"Tic-tok dance." Gar laughed, as he explained it,

"I don't get it." She looked on.

"Try not to, it's a deep jump into madness." Gar nodded, kissing her head. "Only Witch-Tok for you."

She laughed, Gar had found her several channels he saved on his profile just so she could keep up, without the extras.

"Why are teens so strange?" Rachel turned to Gar laughing.

"Weed." Conner looked up, "Ivy and her making a strain for Robins."

But a good one. Rachel had to admit, she used it for insomnia, after Gar suggested to give it a try, after two days of not sleeping.

"Makes them goofy ..." Conner shook his head.

"I am sober!" Tim jumped up and joined in the dance.

"When have you last slept?" Conner asked.

Tim gave him the finger and danced, shaking his ass, ruffling his underwear as he danced.

"Drunk then, lack of sleep." Gar nodded, as Tim danced around.

"There isn't even a camera in the ring light..." Rachel noticed, as Gar places a finger over her mouth.

Rachel playfully bit it, as she laughed.

"Silly girl." Gar kissed her. "Bite my neck, not my finger."

"..k?"

"You killed her!" She heard Bart.

"She fainted." Conner shighed.

"She crashed." Tim agreed.

Rachel looked up to a smiling Gar.

"Hey, Mama." He smiled down at her. "I think, we had enough, wanna get dressed and read with a kitten?"

Heaven. Rachel looked up, as she nodded.

"I am gonna pick you up, and take you to your room now." Gar told her softly, as she felt herself being lifted into his arms.

Rachel closed her eyes, and lay into his chest as he carried her out.

[mayleebaby28]

I had an idea and it turned into this. Enjoy! 

It’ll be Alright Again

“Don’t you start crying,” Damian growled, glaring at Jon over their bed as he furiously pulled the sheets taut.

“I can’t help it,” Jon said, almost a whine but he was too angry. He furiously wiped at his eyes, but his tears just kept reforming.

“You’re such a crybaby,” Damian mumbled, more to himself as he fixed the comforter.

“I can’t help it,” Jon repeated, this time it was a whine and Damian rolled his eyes. “Don’t yell at me.”

“What would you prefer I do? You cry every time we have a confrontation,” Damian pointed out, slamming the pillows back into place against the head board.

“Just stop!” Jon shouted, finding his ground again and glaring over the bed at Damian. “Leave me alone!”

“You want to be alone? Fine!” Damian yelled, turning and grabbing his jacket before storming out of the bedroom and slamming the door. He stormed to the front door of the apartment and slammed that one too for good measure.

The elevator felt too slow and small to contain his anger, so he headed for the stairs and stomped down them until he was at street level.

He had a few options, he could just walk around the block and return, but he didn’t feel that would give him enough time to cool down, nor would it give Jon enough time to calm himself. They could both take a long time to be civil again.

His other options were to drive somewhere, but he didn’t want to go to the manor. He refused to go back to his childhood home, it felt far too final. And he never wanted to relay their arguments to his father because he didn’t want his father in his romantic life.

He could also go to Richard’s, almost wanted to because Richard could cheer him up. But he also would fuss over him, and he didn’t feel like being fussed over. He was a grown adult. He thought briefly about going to Todd’s, but then remembered he was out of town on a mission with Harper.

That left Drake’s. That actually sounded like a good idea. He let Damian talk without judgment, and there was a dog there. Damian could use a dog.

Damian knocked on the door of the house, hearing Krypto bark. It was a new house, Drake and the clone had recently moved in with the anticipation of hopefully having children in the future. Damian didn’t look forward to small children running around, but Jon was excited about it.

Whatever. Who cared what Jon wanted?

The door opened finally, it was the clone, holding on to Krypto’s collar so he wouldn’t bound out the door.

“Oh, hey, Damian,” Conner said, blinking a few times. “What’s up?”

“Can I come in?” The younger man asked, and Conner stepped aside, mumbling an ‘of course’ as Damian strode into the living room. There was music coming from the kitchen, and there was a pile of what he hoped was clean laundry on the couch. He sat down at the end that was free of clothing, and Krypto trotted over to put his head in his lap.

That was exactly what Damian needed.

He scratched at the scruff around Krypto’s collar, listening to his tags jingle. His fur was soft, not that of an Earth lab, more akin to how Jon’s hair felt when he ran his fingers through it after they took a shower and lounged in bed.

“Where’s Drake?” Damian asked, looking up as Conner came striding out of the kitchen. The music had stopped, and now he was coming over to start folding the clean clothes.

“He went over to Dick’s,” The man shrugged, folding a t-shirt. “They were comparing notes on something and having lunch.”

“Oh,” Damian scowled, still scratching the dog that was leaning as far into his lap as he could without climbing on the couch.

“Is something wrong?” Conner asked, setting a pair of folded socks on the coffee table.

“Jonathan and I,” Damian sighed, gazing down into Krypto’s beautiful eyes. “We had a fight.”

“You wanna talk about it?” Conner asked, raising a brow. “I know you probably came here to talk to Tim, but-“

“You are family, as well,” Damian mumbled. The two had been married for a few years, together for even longer. He reached over with one hand and grabbed a pair of jeans, which were absolutely Drake’s because they were not long, and started folding them, grateful for the distraction.

“What did you have a fight about?” Conner asked, and Damian sighed as he set the jeans on the table.

“Jon doesn’t make the bed in the morning,” Damian said, and he turned to glare at his brother-in-law when he started laughing. “What is so funny, Kent?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Conner wheezed, waving Damian off. “I don’t mean to laugh. But is that really what you fought about? Not making the bed?”

“Yes,” Damian nodded.

“Okay, back up for a minute,” Conner shook his head. “Walk me through it. What happened?”

Damian forced himself up from the chair in his office/cave. The sun was starting to show through the blinds, and that usually meant it was time for Damian to go to bed.

When he got to the bedroom, Jon was walking out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. They shared a look as Jon went to his dresser and yanked open the top drawer.

“Is it really so hard to make the bed when you get up?” Damian asked, glaring at their bed, Jon’s side unmade.

“Why should I make it?” Jon asked, glaring over his shoulder. “I’m the only one sleeping in it, anyways.”

“It’s proper to make the bed when you wake up,” Damian growled, going over to move the pillows out of place as Jon pulled on a t-shirt. “It only takes a few minutes. We’ve talked about this.”

“Did you not hear me? I sleep here alone,” Jon argued, turning around.

“I sleep here too, and I like to sleep in a made bed,” Damian said, looking up. When he did look up, he saw Jon’s jaw wobbling, and tears forming in his eyes. “Don’t you start crying.”

“Wait, wait,” Conner shook his head, holding a hand up to stop Damian from continuing. “You think your fight was over making the bed?”

“Did your under-developed brain not process what I said?” Damian asked, raising a brow.

“No, I heard what you said,” Conner glared at him for a moment. “Damian when’s the last time you and Jon slept together?”

“The particulars of our sex life are not-“

“No, no, I mean actual sleeping,” Conner said, setting the last t-shirt on the coffee table. “How late are you staying up working after patrol?”

Damian pursed his lips, running over a timeline in his head. He got back from patrol around one or two, unless something significant happened, and he took care of his case reports and work right away. That usually lasted a couple of hours at least, longer if he’d been injured and had to patch himself up.

“On average I’d say four hours,” Damian shrugged.

“And Jon gets up around dawn, right?” Conner raised a brow.

“More or less,” Damian nodded, and he was a bit taken aback when Conner put a hand on his shoulder.

“Damian, I’m saying this as someone who has had this fight before, and continues to have this fight,” He said, and Damian nodded in a show of listening. “He’s lonely. Jon doesn’t want to sleep alone, he wants you to come to bed when you get home instead of sleeping once he’s up. I think that’s what he was really upset about.”

“How can you be sure?” Damian asked, furrowing his brows.

“Like I said, we’ve been through this,” Conner shrugged. “Tim doesn’t like to sleep right away either. He’s like you, wants to get his work done right away. I spent a lot of time sleeping alone and then getting up to him still working or just getting into bed. Kinda sucked.”

“And how did you remedy the situation?”

“We compromised. Some nights Tim really does have urgent work and I let him do it. But other nights, when it’s not so urgent, he just comes to bed after patrol,” Conner explained. “Sleeping alone isn’t fun. It actually really sucks, so maybe just apologize and take your work on a case by case basis.”

Damian nodded, staring down at where Krypto was sleeping by his feet.

“Thank you,” He mumbled, looking over at his brother-in-law again. “I appreciate the advice.”

“You don’t want a hug or anything, do you?” Conner asked, and Damian chuckled.

“No,” He said, and Krypto lifted his head when Conner let out a sigh of relief.

“Well, since you’re here, Tim and I are going on a mission this weekend. Mind taking Krypto home with you?” Conner asked. “Need someone to watch him.”

“Of course,” Damian nodded, reaching down to pet the dog at his feet.

“Thanks, we owe you one.”

“I think the advice is sufficient payment.”

Jon landed on the balcony of Dick’s apartment. He tried to dry his eyes while he knocked on the door. It wasn’t like he couldn’t have just flown home, but that felt wrong. It was just a fight, he didn’t want to involve his parents.

“Jon?” Dick pulled the door open, brows knit in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sorry,” Jon shook his head, walking into the apartment. He was a little surprised to see Tim sitting on the couch, papers scattered on the coffee table and Chinese take-out containers piled on top. Tim sprung up, coming around the table to get a closer look at Jon.

“Hey, what happened?” He asked, and Jon was actually grateful for his brother-in-law at that moment.

He and Kon had gotten closer since they both moved to Gotham, and actually he and Damian spent a lot of time with their predecessors. They were close enough in age that it felt more like hanging out with friends than family.

“Damian and I had a fight,” Jon sighed, glad he had stopped crying. His face probably looked all red though. “It was stupid.”

“Come sit down,” Tim said, putting an arm around Jon’s shoulders and leading him to the couch. “Dick, can you get him some water?”

“On it,” Dick nodded before vanishing into the kitchen.

“What happened, Jonno?” Tim asked, and Jon huffed a sigh, curling into the corner of the couch. Dick came back with a bottle of water and a container of Oreos, which made Jon smile a bit. “Cookies?” Tim asked, raising a brow.

“What? He’s upset, I eat when I’m upset,” Dick said, sitting down in the chair at the other end of the couch and taking a cookie for himself before passing the container down. Tim plucked one out as well as he passed it to Jon, ignoring Dick’s mumble of ‘hypocrite.’

“We had a fight about Damian not coming to bed when he gets home,” Jon sighed, taking a sip of his water. He was quite thirsty. “Or at least I said something, and I don’t think Damian understood why I was upset.”

“Walk us through it,” Tim said, taking a bite of his cookie, again ignoring Dick as he mumbled ‘heathen.’

Jon sighed under the hot water, rinsing the last of his shampoo out of his hair. He didn’t want to get out, he’d woken up cold and the water felt nice. It was hard for him to feel cold, he was a heater, but it was hard when he was only occupying half of a king size bed.

Damian hadn’t been going to bed after patrol for weeks, and Jon had been getting up alone and getting ready by himself more often than not. Sometimes he wouldn’t even see Damian before he left for work.

So he was a little shocked when he was walking out of the bathroom into the bedroom and saw Damian walking in. Jon was sure he didn’t look happy, so he just turned and went to his dresser. He pulled the top drawer open with a little more force than necessary to grab a pair of boxers.

“Is it really so hard to make the bed when you get up?” Damian asked, and Jon’s anger flared. Really? He was getting flack for not making the bed when Damian hadn’t even been in it at night in weeks?

“Why should I make it?” He asked, glaring over his shoulder. Damian was staring down at the bed. “I’m the only one sleeping in it, anyways.”

“It’s proper to make the bed when you wake up,” Damian growled. Jon heard him moving pillows as he pulled a shirt over his head. “It only takes a few minutes. We’ve talked about this.”

“Did you not hear me? I sleep here alone,” He argued, turning around. He felt something welling up inside of him, a part of him he’d tried to bury but was just too sensitive. He always cried when he got really angry.

“I sleep here too, and I like to sleep in a made bed,” Damian said, finally looking up at him. Jon could feel his jaw shaking as he tried to keep his emotions under control, but there were still tears forming in his eyes. Dammit. “Don’t you start crying.”

“Hold on, so he didn’t understand what you actually were mad about?” Tim asked, and Jon nodded, opening another cookie to eat the cream inside.

“No, I don’t think he did,” Jon scowled, taking a bite of the cookie. “And I don’t know how he didn’t.”

“Damian can be kind of dense sometimes when it comes to other people’s feelings,” Dick said, scooting closer to the edge of the seat. “He’s gotten better but, well, you know.”

“Yeah, I do,” Jon sighed. “I guess it just makes me mad that he doesn’t even realize it’s a problem.”

“Did you tell him that was why you were upset?” Tim asked, squeezing Jon’s knee.

“No,” Jon mumbled, peeling at the label on his water bottle.

“You’ve just got to tell him, trust me,” Tim said, pulling his hand back. “Kon and I have had this issue before.”

“You have?” Jon asked, eyes snapping up.

“Of course,” Tim nodded. “I have a tendency to stay up later than he does.”

Dick barked out a laugh.

“No one asked you,” Tim turned to glare at his older brother. “Anyways, he just told me he felt weird sleeping alone, like we were just-“

“Roommates,” Jon interrupted, and Tim nodded.

“Exactly. So now we compromise,” Tim explained. “If I do have urgent work, I do it, but if it’s not important, I just go to bed. It’s not perfect but it works for us.”

“And Damian will understand,” Dick added. “I know he can be kind of stubborn, but he loves you.”

“He really does,” Tim nodded, and Jon smiled a little.

“I know he does,” He said, his lip twitching as he looked up at the other two men. “Thanks, guys.”

“Anytime, kiddo,” Dick said, hauling himself to his feet. “Well, if you’d like to stay, we’ve got more Chinese in the fridge.”

“No, that’s okay,” Jon shook his head, getting up as well. “I should probably get back home before Damian does.”

“Okay,” Dick nodded, coming around the coffee table to give the young man a hug. “Call or come by if you need anything else, okay?”

“Okay,” Jon smiled, glad that Damian’s family loved him like one of their own. “Thanks, Dick.”

“Fly safe, alright?” Tim asked, taking his turn for a hug. “I’ll be home in a few hours if you need me.”

“Thank you, Tim,” Jon mumbled, welcoming the embrace.

When Jon is halfway through the bedroom window, thinking about just staying there on the window sill with one leg dangling outside, he hears the bedroom door open.

He turns and stares as Damian walked in, holding a leash attached to Krypto. The dog excitedly leapt onto the bed and barked at Jon.

“Where’d you get Krypto?” Jon asked, raising a brow.

“Conner asked me if we could watch him while he and Drake go on a mission,” Damian explained, dropping the leash so Krypto could wander free.

“You went to Tim and Kon’s?” Jon asked, raising a brow. He was with Tim, that meant only Kon would have been home.

“Jon,” Damian sighed. “I realize that I may have been neglecting you when I come home at night. And I apologize.”

“Dami,” Jon sighed, pushing off from the window sill and striding over to wrap his arms around his boyfriend. “I’m sorry too. I should have told you that it was bothering me.”

“I did not realize that you were feeling the way you were, and that is my fault,” Damian said, his face flushing. “I will try to be better.”

“Dami, I love you,” Jon said, pulling back a little to give him a small kiss. Which turned into another kiss. Then another.

That was the other thing.

Jon was mad, and Damian was busy. Who had time for anything intimate?

“Krypto,” Jon said, his voice an echo of the dog’s master’s. He perked up, alert and listening to what Jon would say next. “Out.”

The dog hopped off of the bed and bound out to the living room, leash dragging behind him.

Damian kicked the door shut, and Krypto climbed onto the couch to wait. He was used to being kicked out of the bedroom, he knew the drill.

[renecdote]

Hey idk if you're still doing those prompt list things but if u are, would love to see one with “Sorry about your shirt.” with TimKon :)

Kon has half an ear on the city but he’s not really listening, so when Red Robin tumbles through the window he’s still surprised.

“Shit!” he exclaims and goes to help his husband up. Krypto beats him to it, grabbing a mouthful of cape and pulling Tim to his feet.

Tim clumsily pats the dog with one gloved hand. It leaves a splash of red across Krypto’s glossy white coat. “Thanks buddy.”

“What happened?” Kon demands, already scanning Tim’s body for injuries. He finds one on his right side; puncture marks have torn through skin and are slowly seeping blood. “Killer Croc?”

Tim shakes his head. His mouth is a grim, pained line. “King Shark.”

Kon opens his mouth to make a quip about Gotham’s weird villains but Tim sways and he realises now is not the time. He sweeps Tim off his feet into a bridal carry, ignoring his husband’s half-hearted protests.

“I can walk.”

“You literally just fell through the window.”

“It was a coordinated fall.”

“It was still falling.”

Tim sits on the bathroom counter while Kon carefully cuts away his suit. His face is pale but that’s not really abnormal so Kon doesn’t think he’s about to pass out from blood loss.

“Will I live?” Tim asks drily while Kon scrutinises the injury.

“Probably. But we might have to amputate.”

Tim snorts. His eyes are closed. “I think a hemicorporectomy is a little dramatic.”

Kon rolls his eyes - instead of thinking about why exactly Tim knows the medical term for amputation from the waist down - and starts cleaning the wound. He dabs at the bite marks with alcohol, muttering an apology when Tim hisses.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take something before I start stitching this?”

“No.”

“No you’re not sure, or no you don’t want anything?”

Tim gently kicks his knee. “Shut up and stitch me, Kon.”

Kon’s stitches are small and only a little bit messy. He’s had a lot of practice stitching up Tim, and as much as he hates it, he’s at least glad that Tim doesn’t try to deal with injuries himself as much these days. Not that he gets away with it when he does try; blood is a little hard to hide when you live with someone with super senses.

“There, all done,” Kon says as he tapes gauze over the wound. It hadn’t been as bad as he’d initially thought, thank god.

“Thanks,” Tim says, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to Kon’s lips before sliding off the counter. Kon steadies him with hands on his waist. He takes advantage of the position to steal another kiss.

“You want help getting out of that suit?”

For once, there is nothing romantic or sexy about peeling the kevlar and lycra off Tim’s body. It’s a process that involves some swearing and hissing and more hacking with the scissors to remove the parts of the suit that have stuck to skin with dried blood. It’s times like this that Kon wonders why the bats wear such tight costumes. Finally, though, the suit is gone and Tim is standing in his boxers and a faded Superboy t-shirt he’s never going to be able to wear again.

“Sorry about your shirt.” Tim grimaces, pinching the ruined shirt. Bloody and cut from where Kon sliced through to get to the wound.

Kon shakes his head. Grins. “I’m pretty sure that hasn’t been my shirt for years, babe.”