#Jason just watched like a proud dad

[rougerave]

Mafia Au

He was young when he became a father. A decent age young, he was nineteen. So decent. But being a young father didn’t scare him. What scared him was that he had to do it alone. When his girlfriend died during childbirth, he felt what being alone was for the first time. Then he remembered that he wasn’t alone. He had his father, and his best friend and the whole community, well more like gang. Wait no, his father’s empire, the Hood Mafia. So no he wasn’t alone, just stressed.

When his little girl was born, his father was giving him control of the gang. They had talked that as soon as he got his degree, he would take over the mafia. He was home schooled so he had the opportunity to finish school early. His daughter was relatively easy to manage. It only started going downhill when she turned six.

As soon as she learnt how to climb, hide and seek got a whole lot harder. Glitter meant you had to make sure you weren’t the next victim of the next prank, but pranks were usually pulled on the newer recruits. God help them all when the first of October hit. No one was safe, even his dad, who by the way, lived on another continent. But otherwise, she was she was a bundle of joy really.

But all this doesn’t help his nerves when it comes to this talk. No not the talktm, but a talk. He shouldn’t be nerves talking to his thriteen year old daughter about this. I mean he was the Red Hood, ruthless mafia leader, who inspires fear to everyone that get on his bad side. This should be easy.

“Jay as your best friend, it’s my job to punch you in the face to tell you to calm down, but as your right hand it’s my job to tell you that you have to do it or else I will. You pick.” Roy said with a hand on his shoulder.

Jason looked up from his hands to his best friend, then took a calming breath before he nodded his head. He was ready. Just as he was about to pick up his phone to text his daughter to come to the kitchen, Marinette rushed in with a water-balloon in her hand and super glue in the other. She look around before she ducked into the pantry. The two adults looked at each other confused. Just then her best friend/brother (he was adopted after an incident with his family), Nino, rushed in covered in water, glitter, and glue. The two adults looked at him wide eyed.

“Were. Is. She?” His voice was low and angry. The adults looked at each other before they pointed to the pantry. One thing about Nino, is that you don’t cross him when his angry. He walked over and in a few seconds there was sounds of screaming, a bang, crash, and then silence. Absolute silence. They went to go investigate.

When they opened the pantry door, it looked like a bomb had hit, both kids laying on the floor breathing heavily, tomato paste everywhere.

“Okay go clean up both of you, then meet us in the car. We’re going to base.” Then he and Roy left.

“I don’t know what scares me more. The fact that she’s willing to get Nino angry or the fact that she has glitter and glue with her.” Roy said once they sat in the car.

Jason snorted. “I got a call for my dad this morning. Apparently sixty boxes were delivered to him. He now has two thousand hot pink Hawaiian shirts. I didn’t know if I should laugh or be concerned that she found his location. I settled for an eye roll because I was busy with an interrogation.”

“So babu (grandpa) liked my ‘gift’.” Mari asked as she got in the car.

“Ndio, aliipenda, but you should stop hacking him. Let him enjoy his retirement please. His gonna have a heart attack before seventy.”[Yeah, he loved it.]

“Kwa nini tunaenda msingi?” Nino asked. He looks calmer now, looking out the window to avoid eye contact with Mari, afraid he might laugh when his supposed to angry at her. [Why are we going to base?]

“We need to have a talk.”

--

“So, I wanted to ask, but you don’t have to give me your answer now or today, but do you want to take over the gang when you hit twenty, or would you rather not? Remember you can answer no. It’s okay to not want to take over.”

“And who would take over if I don’t? Did you think this through? Dad I’m your only heir, and do really think that I would pass out the chance to be the first female mafia boss in our family?”

“So that’s a yes then?”

“Obviously.”

“See, you had nothing to worry about Jay.”

“You were gonna punch me if I didn’t talk to her. I had every right to be worried! You’re built like a tank! What do you go to the gym every day?!”

“You’re one to talk.” Roy huffed.

“Hey Nino, is it me, or is the sexual tension in here suffocating?” Mari asked whispering to her friend, so that the two bickering adults didn’t hear them.

“It’s the sexual tension. We should go. Our tutor is about to arrive.” Nino replied, while backing out slowly. Mari nodded, following him out the door.

They slammed it shut.

“We should tell them.” Roy said once the door was closed.

“Nah. Let them figure it out. Besides, we don’t want to break them.” Jason said, smirking in the direction of the door.

Roy snorted.

--

Two years later.

“We’ll be back in a few days. All you’re doing is making sure you go to that meeting on my behalf and to not start a war. Can I trust you to do that?” Jason said from the other end of the line.

“Sure. I have babu on speed dial just in case I need advice and I can’t reach you.”

“You also have Nino. He is your right hand and your ndugu [brother]. Make sure his opinions are heard, okay.”

“I know and I will. Be safe, love you.”

“And I you. Be safe, oh and one more thing. If you have to threaten someone and it gets physical, you can’t break more than an arm, wrist and fingers. Okay?”

Marinette sighed. Damn it. So much for the body cast or bag.

“Okay.” She responded reluctantly. Her farther nodded then dropped the call.

“Mari are you ready? That meeting is in fifteen minutes. We can make it to the location with five minutes to spare if we leave now.” Nino said as he came down the stairs, no wrinkle on his crisp black suit. He doesn’t wear a dress shirt, but a white polo neck with a silver chain, his black high tops, glasses, and hair is it usual curly mess, but not messy enough that it’s in his face.

“You look nice,” She said as she got up from the stool in the kitchen. “and baba said hi.”

“You also look nice,” And she did in her sharp grey pants suit, black polo neck with a gold chain, black high tops, and hair in a neatly tied bun that was clipped together by a gold flower hair pin. “and did you tell baba that babu is already in Oman for Isra and Mi’ja?” He asked as they made their way out the house and towards the car. They nodded their head in greeting to their personal guard Deze as they got in the car.

“I did. He said that we’ll go when he comes back, but we’ll still have three weeks before the festival, so we should have enough time to greet family and site see. Did you put eye drops. You're blinking a lot.”

“I need new eye drops.”

"And you didn't say anything because,"

"I forgot. Don't antagonis me for forgetting about something. Okay? Okay."

"Just checking."

They fell into a silence after that.

--

When Dawn woke up this morning to get ready for his meeting today, he expected to meet the fierce leader of the Hood gang. He was not prepared however for the little fourteen, maybe fifteen year olds to step out the car. What in the bloody hell.

“Is this some kind of joke?” He asked when one of them walked up to greet him. It was the little girl.

“I can assure you Mr. Dawn that this is no joke.” Her voice was calm and collected, cold, sharp and void of all emotion.

“Listen girle-” He was cut off. Rude, he thought.

“It’s Miss Todd to you Mr. Dawn. I am simply taking care of business while my father is away dealing with something personally. Now I believe we have matters to discuss privately.” She said as she made a move to walk passed him. He grabs her shoulder, and that is when things started going downhill for him.

“Now listen here girle-”

Big mistake. She grabs his arm and twits it in a weird angle making sure to listen for the pop before kicking him under his legs to get him on his stomach, before proceeding to break his wrist. He let out a scream in anguish. His guards start to run to go help him, but the Hood gang stop them with guns to their faces.

Nino sighs. It hasn’t even been five minute since they got here. Mari snorts before she crouches down to be eye level with Dawn. “I told you my name to you is Miss Todd, and like my father and grandfather, I do not like my time wasted, and my patience runs out a lot quicker than my brother over there. Another thing, touch me again and I won’t  be so willing to follow my father’s rule to only break an arm and wrist.” She straightens up and wipes of the dirt on her person, before she looks down on the leader of the Fire Triangle. “I will give you five minutes to gather your bearings and I will meet you inside. If you are not inside by then, I can simply ask my men to follow through and blow up your territory. I am not so cruel to target your family, but make no mistake; do not take my permissive behavior today as a sign of kindness or mercy. I can at any time target your family. Five minutes Mr. Dawn.” She walks into the restaurant head held high.

Nino walks up to Mr. Dawn. “I would count myself very lucky. Our father did not give me any rule and therefore I can put you into a body cast. I would be very careful with your next choice of words for the rest of the meeting.” He then turns him head to the gang and nods his head. They stand down as he and Deze make their way into the restaurant.

By the time the meeting is over, everyone is positively terrified of the two fifteen year olds.

--

A few days later Jason and Roy return from Tokyo. They first make a stop at base so they can see if everything is normal. “Well at least we know they kept their promise.” Roy said as he closed the door to the office.

“They did more than keep their promise.” Jason said from his seat behind his desk, looking over some documents.

“What did they do?” Roy asked as he led over Jason’s shoulder to see what his fiancé was looking at. His eyes widened in shock as he read over the documents.

“They completed the budget for five months, finalised trade deals, managed to get the truce with the Fire Triangle signed, and from this note brought a dog. Wow.” Roy said as he looked over the note.

“What note?”

“This note.” Roy said as he handed the note over.

‘Don’t be mad. We borrowed two grand to buy a puppy. We joined out allowance to buy supplies for her. Her name is Tikki and she is a Great Dean, she’s very playful but don’t worry, we put her through training so she is potty trained. We’ll pay back the 2000£ by the end of the month, with interest because that is the right thing to do.

-Mari and Nino’

Jason laughs. Well this is a surprise. “I think we should get some rest. We’re still going to Oman tomorrow.” Jason said as they made their way out the door and to the car.

“I’ll meet you guys in Oman. I still have to go to Star City for a couple of days. You know, just to make sure Oliver isn’t dead.”

“Okay. Just call when you reach Oman so we can pick you up.”

Roy nods his head. When they finally reach the house Roy makes his way to pack his bag for his flight in the morning and to take a shower. Jason makes his way to the sitting room only to come face to face with a sight.

Mari and Nino are fast asleep on the couch, blankets everywhere, an empty tube of ice-cream on the table, and Bambi play. He shakes his head fondly. He fixes their blankets, switches of the TV, rinses of the spoons and throws away the empty tub.

As he makes his was up-stairs, he runs into Deze.

“Hey Deze. Mind telling me what happened at the truce.”

“She broke Dawns arm because he called her ‘girle’ twice, wasted her time and because he put a hand or her shoulder when he tried to stop her. Nino threated to put him in a body cast and I’m pretty sure he made some of Dawns men pee themselves when he stared at them like he would kill them at any moment. Then in the restaurant they let him talk for about half an hour. They just stared at him, hardly blinking, making sure he was nice and uncomfortable. When he was done Mari read over the contract asked if he was okay with the terms of the contract the made him sign, grabbed the paper and left. Nino gave him a smirk that for sure made him pee himself. Nino didn’t stop laughing for like two minutes and Mari was really trying not to but ultimately failed. We pass a pet store and on impulse they agree to buy a puppy. When they got home things were pretty chilled.”

“Wow that - that is something.” Jason said with a shake of his head smiling fondly. “Thanks for keeping an eye out Deze.”

“No problem boss. See you tomorrow.” She said with a wave of her hand as she made her way out the house.

 Roy cackles when Jason tells him what he heard from Deze. “Oh man, these are the people we’re raising. Terrifying little gremlins that become five year old at the site of a puppy.”

“Yet we love them all the same.”

“Yes, yes we do.”

[strangedesired]

Supportive parent Bruce Wayne

Damian showing him all his artwork because he knows that he will get the brightest smile and a “That looks beautiful sweetheart” every time

Dick being so excited to bring his dad to his gymnastics show because he knows that Bruce will start crying every time he lands a trick, without fail, and that means the women that come to watch will have someone else to fuss over

Someone at WE mentioning they don’t trust Tim because of his age and Bruce immediately scheduling a company wide meeting so he can express just how exceptional his son is. Tim’s face is the most red it has ever been the entire time

Cass doesn’t even have to do anything, he is just always looking at her with a fond little smile and on the verge of tears but sometimes, when she wants a little more then normal, she will take one of Jason’s books and read as much as she can aloud. That man absolutely loses it and hugs her as tight as he can while sobbing about how far his baby has come

Jason acts like he couldn’t care less about Bruce’s support, but the first time he overhears Bruce talking about him at a gala, telling some rich idiot who was questioning business decisions that Jason is the most competent man he has ever known and would trust him with not only the WE weapons department but his life, Jason pointedly does not look at Dick, who has a shit eating grin on his face, and walks as fast as he can to the bathroom

The best part is that Bruce doesnt even have to try he is just genuinely that proud of them

[flwrkid14]

Jason Todd: Dad Mode Activated

There’s a new dynamic in the Batfamily, and nobody saw it coming. Jason Todd—Red Hood, former Robin, perennial black sheep of the Wayne family—has apparently decided that Tim Drake is his son. And no one, least of all Tim, knows what to do about it.

It starts subtly, if you can call Jason “subtle.” He starts showing up when Tim’s been too busy to eat, tossing him a burger or some takeout with a gruff, “Eat, Replacement.” He’s there when Tim’s working himself to the bone, slamming the laptop shut and growling about how his kid isn’t going to die of exhaustion on his watch. When Tim’s in over his head, Jason’s suddenly there, guns blazing, a protective shadow with a deadly smirk.

Tim’s confused. Very confused. Jason has always been... antagonistic, at best. But now he’s... scolding him? Encouraging him? Telling him he’s proud when Tim does something impressive? The man even started calling him “kid” instead of “Replacement,” which is somehow worse because it makes Tim feel all warm and fuzzy inside. What is happening?

Eventually, Tim asks. And Jason, in true Jason fashion, gives an explanation that doesn’t explain much at all.

“Look, Dick’s already treating Damian like his own kid, Bruce is busy helping Duke figure out his place in the family, Cass and Babs are practically attached at the hip—like sisters or something. And you?” Jason shrugs. “You’re my kid.”

Tim stares. “I’m your what?”

“My kid,” Jason repeats, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re smart, you’re resourceful, you’ve got my stubbornness—which, yeah, is annoying—and someone’s gotta make sure you don’t get yourself killed. Congrats, kid. You’ve been adopted.”

It doesn’t really explain anything, but Tim decides not to argue. After all, Jason’s kind of a good dad? He feeds Tim, checks in on him, teaches him things like how to hotwire a car (Tim already knows, but Jason’s so enthusiastic about it that Tim doesn’t have the heart to tell him). And Jason has his back in a way that feels steady, solid. Like he’s not going anywhere.

The thing is, Jason doesn’t stop there. He starts talking about Tim in ways that make Tim want to crawl under a rock. To Roy, to Kory, to anyone who’ll listen. “My kid’s a genius,” Jason brags, his voice filled with so much pride it makes Tim’s chest ache. “Runs a whole company and saves Gotham on the side. Kid’s got a brain the size of the Batcomputer.”

And it’s not just talk. Jason drags Tim along to meet-ups with other vigilantes or allies, casually introducing him like a proud dad at a PTA meeting. “This is Tim,” Jason says, grinning ear to ear. “My kid. Smartest of the bunch, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Tim flushes, stammering out an awkward, “Uh, hi,” while Jason beams like he’s just presented a Nobel Prize winner.

The height of Tim’s mortification comes when Jason introduces him to Talia—not as a fellow vigilante or even a respected ally, but as his son. Talia, who had become something of a mother figure to Jason after the Pit, is apparently now being roped into her new role as a grandmother. Jason insists it’s only right that she meet her “grandkid” and treat Tim accordingly. Tim, meanwhile, wants to disappear into the floor while Jason beams with unrestrained pride.

“Yeah, this is my boy,” Jason says, arms crossed, radiating smug pride. “Smart, resourceful, better than Bruce—don’t even try to deny it.”

Tim wants the floor to open up and swallow him. But he also can’t help feeling... warm. Embarrassed, yes, but also kind of happy. Jason’s over-the-top pride is ridiculous, but it’s genuine. It’s not something Tim’s used to—someone being proud of him just for being himself.

And of course, Jason’s newfound dad energy throws the rest of the family into chaos.

Bruce tries to scold Tim about something minor—maybe staying out too late on patrol—and Tim just raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna tell my dad,” he says, completely deadpan. And then he does. Jason shows up at the Batcave later, tearing into Bruce about how his kid doesn’t need this kind of negativity in his life, and Bruce is left speechless.

Damian tries to insult Tim, calling him a weak link or some other scathing remark, and Tim smirks. “Careful, Damian. I’m your nephew now. Better watch your mouth, or Uncle Jason might have something to say about it.”

Even Dick’s thrown off by it. “Jay,” he says one day, watching Jason shove a plate of food at Tim with all the grace of a brick. “You do realize Tim isn’t actually your son, right?”

Jason glares at him. “He’s mine. I’m the dad here. You’ve got Demon Spawn, I’ve got Tim. Deal with it.”

Tim doesn’t understand how or why this happened, but honestly? He’s not complaining. Jason might not be the most conventional parent, but he’s a damn good one. And for Tim, who’s always felt a little lost in the shuffle of the chaotic Wayne family, having someone claim him so fiercely, so completely, feels... nice.

So yeah. Jason Todd: Red Hood, vigilante, crime lord, accidental dad. Who would’ve thought?

[plethorawrites]

How many kids do they want? How many do they actually end up with?

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Dick: Wants 3, ends up with 5. This man wants kids. Maybe not a houseful of them, but that's only because he wants to be able to devote himself entirely to all three and you while still being able to be Nightwing. When the first baby arrives, he's overjoyed, and the second and third, his excitement grows until his heart feels so full he doesn't comprehend how it's possible. Then you get pregnant a fourth time. By accident, of course. You had stopped trying at that point, both content with three. But Dick wasn't upset even for a second when you told him. Shocked? Yes. Disappointed? Never. Then, along came number five, and he knew you absolutely had to buy a bigger house. Which he was fine with. Coming home each day to the sound of laughter and getting to see five mini versions of you and him running around made him happier than he thought possible. Better than his dreams. He still made an appointment to make sure number six never happened. For your sake. Because as much as he loves you and knows you love kids, there was no way he was putting your body through another pregnancy.

---

Jason: Wants 0, ends up with 4. He's absolutely against it. He likes kids, as long as they're not his. There's too much darkness in this world, too many threats. Hell, too many people. Then he met you and he started doing things he swore he'd never do, like move in with you, propose to you, marry you. You knew his stance on kids and you agreed. But mistakes happen. When you told him you were pregnant, you'd assumed you would make an appointment for termination and he'd hold your hand for it. (Women's rights to choose!!!) Instead, he just sat there, his mind racing as images of you holding his baby came to his head. You two spent the entire night discussing it before realizing that maybe one would be okay. He was in a better mental place and crime would always happen. He'd keep you and the baby safe. He doesn't expect it, how much he loves the baby, how much he enjoys being a dad. When the child utters that first word, calling him 'adda' then trying again and getting it right, he feels his heart clench in so much joy he thinks it could kill him. And that's how he ended up mumbling to you one night, after putting the baby to sleep, that he wanted another. You agreed. And suddenly you both had a house full. Not as many as Dick, of course...he always had to one up everyone. But enough. He loved getting home early to put them to bed, reading his favorite books to them and explaining what supercilious and ubiquitous mean, watching their noses wrinkle just like yours did whenever they didn't recognize a big word. It was safe to say their rooms were filled with books, the kids ones they read—which were still advanced for their ages— and the classics he'd tell every night before crawling into bed with you, his heart full and his head clear. There was no lingering emptiness or pain or guilt anymore. He knew where he was and it was right where he wanted to be.

---

(Aged up) Damian: Wants 1, ends up with 2. Of course he wants a kid. One. Singular. He needs an heir and bloodline is important. He's not like his father, just accepting the idea of someone lacking his DNA carrying his surname. So, when you have a baby, he's content. Proud of you, a little hesitant because he has no idea how to be a parent so he tries to hand the baby off to a nanny. That works for a while, until he insists no one is taking good enough care of the child and he has to do it himself. You didn't go through a painful labor just to have the child be intellectually stunted. And after a while he learns that it can be okay...maybe even enjoyable to hear a kid calling to him, and watching those little bright green eyes blink slowly while falling asleep in a massive bed filled with every stuffed animal the child asked for and then some. When you tell him you're expecting another baby, he's caught off guard, unsure if he really even knows how to parent the first one. But deep down, he feels warmer when you tell him. He hopes this one looks more like you.

[celaenaeiln]

JL: Nightwing! It’s a delight to see you! You should come by more often.

Nightwing: Thank you! I’m so sorry, work has been piling up on me but I’ll try to drop by the office party this Sunday.

JL: Ofcourse! Looking forward to seeing you there. By the way, is Batman coming late?

Nightwing: No, I’ll be filling in for him today.

JL: Did something happen?

Nightwing: Nothing much, he’s just grounded.

JL: ???

48 hours earlier

Dick: Bruce, I’m telling you now and we’ve had this conversation before but you need to build a better rapport with your children. They look up to you as a father figure and your actions influence their behavior.

Bruce: …hmrgh

Dick: And you might not be aware but you unconconscious behavior is damaging. Tim has picked up your terrible habit of constantly working in front of a screen-it’s going to strain his eyes. He’s always inside too, so you need to make him go outside more. I’m not always here, I have an entire city to run, the titans need me, I'm mentoring hundreds of heroes, the Justice League calls on me to help them, and I need to keep up with my social life. The people in Bludhaven where I teach and work also call me if I’m gone for a day-the point is-I can’t always be playing second parent here in Gotham.

Bruce: ……hmrgh

Dick: Damian always looks up to you

Bruce: *side eyes*

Dick: He does! See you don’t even realize it! He wants to make you proud and Jason gets mad when you don’t make time for him because he cares too. Stephanie doesn’t have a dad she can turn to and it would mean the world to her if you took her out to an amusement park or something. When was the last time you spent time with her.

Bruce: ….hmrgh

Dick: And-

1 hour later

Dick: -that’s why you need to stop working, go to them right now, and bond with them.

Bruce:

Dick:

Bruce: ……...hmrgh

Dick: I’m waiting.

Bruce: *dragging himself off the batcave chair and begrudgingly trudging upstairs under Dick’s watchful eye*

Bruce: *listening to the sounds of his kids in the living room and pumping himself up* Better relationships mean better teamwork. Better relationships mean better teamwork. Better relationships mean better teamwork. And Dick. Do it for him.

Bruce: *entering* *clearing his throat* Children. We will be going-

*The living room is in utter chaos. The cushions are strewn and ripped with stuffing coating the couches and floor which for some reason is stained yellow, the flower vase is shattered and so is the table it was sitting on, there’s string confetti on the chandelier, there’s spray paint and neon goo across the walls and in Tim’s hair, Jason has deep claw marks down his face as he wrestles with Damian who’s sporting massive bruise on his cheek and trying his hardest to bite him, Stephanie is dunking Tim’s face in a tub of soda which splashed everywhere while he’s ripping out Jason’s hair and also trying to kick Damian with his foot, the tv has massive spiderwebs and looping on tellatubies like a broken record machine, Titus is spitting out a feather while a random goose runs around honking while Alfred the cat chases after it at full speed, knocking down decades old paintings.*

Bruce:

Bruce:

Bruce:

Bruce: *rolling up his sleeves and stomping forward to join the fight* HMRGH.

[flamingpudding]

Message to the past

Was one nice family dinner in the Wayne Family really possible? Jason was starting to think it wasn't. The evening started out so well, for once he did not have any sort of beef with Bruce for the moment. He got to spend time with Alfred preparing the dinner. Neither Demon Brat nor Pretender were at each other's throats because of a case yet and there was no argument about to happen with Dickie either and he didn't feel like avoiding Bruce. Did he mention he didn't feel like leaving the Manor at the first sight of his old man?

Everything felt like it was gearing up to be a nice and well deserved family dinner with all his siblings being in one space for once.

That was until a Lazarus Green portal opened and a fucking silver green tin can smack dab hit him square in the face. Causing him to fall backwards in his chair and hitting his head painfully on the floor. Why didn't they have carpet in the dinner room again? Oh right, someone -one of his siblings- got mud all over it after patrol and Alfred decided the dinner room didn't need it anymore.

Once the first shock of what had just happened passed. They got to inspect the tin can and found a letter inside it.

Dear future Dad,

Gramps Clockwork spoilered that there is a mess up in the timeline because of the speedsters and I can fix it like this, which is why I am writing this. Please pick me up in the attached location marked on the map. My current self is in need of saving and I honestly would like to spare myself at least a little of the trauma that's about to happen.

Also please bring some explosives. You always regretted not blowing up a corupted govermental facility, so here is your chance of doing so! Be proud, though. I blew up a bunch of them in the future, with supervision, of course, from my uncles and aunts, so great grandpa wouldn't worry.

Please pick me up? Thanks if you do!

Your future adopted son.

PS: please ignore any complains my current self might have. I was in server need of a real parental figure and as you like to say as stubborn as grandpa.

PSS: also please stop antagonizing grandpa about my adoption. It's bad enough that you had to fight him over it in the first place.

PSSS: please bring great grandpa's cookies, I beg you please! I swear I will do all my schoolwork and be a straight A student if you do!

The girls of the family started to pout while the boys exchanged glances. Jason narrowed his eyes at his brothers. There was a silent argument happening and Bruce was watching them all also.

But if there was one thing Jason was sure about. It was that the tin can smacked him in the face. Which meant the letter was his and the time shenanigans arson kid with sass was going to be his kid. His brothers AND Bruce can fight him over that.

Like the kid has said in his letter.

[gaywineauntsstuff]

More headcanons bc I’m alone on new years

(Yes precrisis Dick became nightwing at 19 but too much shit happens and I mix timelines DONT YELL AT ME)

But I love the idea that Dick was just pint sized for all of his Robin run. Like he’s an acrobat we can fully utilize the fact he was mid waist sized for nearly every adult he interacted with until he was like 16-17.

Late bloomer Dick Grayson who can pass for 12 at 15

And then him and Bruce fight and Dick becomes nightwing and all that jazz

And finally FINALLY his growth spurt hits and he drops the baby fat and all that in like 4 months.

And then he becomes nightwing

And he went from like 4’0-4’10 during his whole Robin run and now he’s cresting at 6’0

And living with Wally means that the boy EATS SO MUCH VERY FAST bc u snooze you lose

So he packs on the pounds and skips that awkward gangly stage and all the adorable lil baby fat on his face is sacrificed to the puberty gods in exchange for a sharp jawline and sharper cheekbones

And the titans and the league don’t rlly get along in the early years so we can assume the only person from the league dick has seen or spoken to is Clark

And then they meet again

And the justice leagues BABY is now a like a full grown man

Like he’s GROWN

And Bruce is going through a crisis bc yeah he’s not dicks dad according to dick but he watched him grow up, he raised him?

He was there for every play, show, report card, every doctors appointment and his boy was so small

And now Dick his tiny little Robin is well he’s damn near Bruce’s height?

He somehow turned around and missed his boy becoming a man

He might not be Dicks dad but Dick is definitely his kid

And his kid isn’t a kid anymore?

And then there’s the voice??

Because sure nightwing jokes around all the time but in comparison to the lil bobbin Robin with his “HOLY ——- BATMAN” and his bad puns and his habit of bat-ifying literally everything in existence

But when he’s in charge?

Of a team?

When he’s given responsibility

Yeah no he’s calm, commanding and authoritative. He’s who everyone in the titans looks to for orders even if it means turning their back on the bat.

And yeah?

He’s proud, so so proud of the amazing man Dick grew into both because and despite of him.

But hes also in misery because he feels like he missed that. He wasn’t standing by Dick through that. How could he be when Dick is too hurt to call and Bruce is too scared to ruin things by calling?

Dick Grayson was always his greatest pride and joy, his biggest achievement and now… his boy doesn’t need him anymore

Then Jason comes back

And he’s bigger and meaner and angrier than all hell and Bruce wonders if he’s cursed to never watch his boys grow up.

(Thank god Tim refuses to get taller)

-I am working on a fic for this but I am a bad writer so if anyone has recs plz donations

[khajittink]

Damian Wayne headcanon

Damian, trained from birth in the League of Assassins, is an incredible dancer. He was trained to have total control over his body, and one of the best ways to learn that is dance styles like ballet, swing, belly dancing, pole dancing, etc.

The batfam slowly finds this out over the years. Apart from Jason and Cass, as they have the same training. Eventually Tim finds out from his time with the League but that's after a couple years of knowing Damian.

The first is the obvious, waltzing at galas. That's expected, of course Talia would teach Bruce Wayne's son to waltz.

The family goes to one of his school events, and are very surprised to see him doing ballet (Cass and him practice together and she was happy she could share this with her shocked family).

They find out he can swing dance while undercover at some speakeasy club. Tim is undercover as Caroline Hill (and this is post League base explosions), and absolutely has a shit eating grin on his face when he sees Steph's flabbergasted expression across the bar. He later tells her Damian is who taught him to swing dance actually.

Dick tries very hard to forget finding out Damian could pole dance, having been visiting the Iceberg Lounge and not knowing Damian was undercover to keep an eye on a new Penguin deal. He's just glad he's an adult now cause he doesn't think he could bear watching his brother doing that underage without blowing his cover.

Jason and Damian end up undercover as belly dancers for entertainment at some rich fucks compound so they could bust his trafficking ring. Duke still can't forget how mesmerizing they both were (and maybe asks them for tips later, as well as telling Tim the latest batch of Bat™ concealer hid the scars so well he almost didn't believe it was them).

Babs blows everyone's minds when she sends a video of Damian break dancing to the group chat, cause even the League trained bats didn't know he could do that, and Damian just smiles and says he picked it up from watching tiktok videos Jon sends him.

Bruce had always guessed what Ra's and Talia had taught Damian, but each discovery he couldn't help but be amazed and impressed with his son. He pays Babs for videos of his dancing to save in his Proud Dad™ folder.

[kenandeliza]

Some compilations of scenarios I thought of Bruce being Billy's Bio Dad

1. Journalist conference

Billy was appointed as the speaker for the national journalist convention and Lois-Clark are wondering why a poorly disguised bruce wayne is there with a camera acting like a proud dad watching his son on a talent show, bruce would then place those photos of Billy speaking at the national journalist convention on his fridge along with his other children photos

2. Mary

Billy:”oh hi mr wayne, meet my sister, Mary Batson”

Bruce:”..”[he has a contemplative look]

Billy:”Oh stop it with that hopeful look, she’s already adopted” Billy chuckled

3. Grandpa Batman and grandpa Red Hood

Bruce is having a family dinner with Billy at his manor

“Billy, why did you name your sidekick Junior?”

Billy:”Ohhh that, Freddy is shorter than me, so he’s junior-sized!”

Bruce:”You haven’t thought this through haven’t you?”

Billy has a clueless expression

Freddy:”Let him have his moment Mr Wayne”

-later-

Freddy:“Since i’m technically junior, and people mistakenly think cap’s my ‘dad’, does this means you’re my grandpa? You adopted him after all”

Bruce is flabbergasted

Junior would then call everyone in the batfamily uncle, except for jason, he’s called grandpa by junior as an inside joke because of his hair, but with his voice filters, everyone just thinks red hood is a really buff grandpa, although jason likes that nobody knows his age, he is miffed about being called grandpa anyways.

4. WHY ARE YOU STILL WORKING AT WHIZ STATION!?? I COULD PROVIDE FOR YOU ALREADY!

Billy has a job and Bruce has to additionally try to get him to quit because he’s supposed to be helping him financially. [Bruce lowkey considers breaking his killing rule after that [added comment by @the-brash-spud ]

It doesn’t help that he’s a popular radio host who has fans all over fawcett city and would riot if their favorite boycaster quits.

Mr morris:“I don’t know if you should do it Mr Wayne, it’d be bad pr for the wayne business”

Bruce:”He’s a child!? Why do people want him to work!!!”

he thought to himself as he tried to buy the rights to the station but Mr Morris refuses any money no matter how ludicrous.

Those are all the ideas I have, these conversations are inspired by the ones i have with @the-brash-spud. I'm still having artblock so I cant draw all of these yet, but I can make scenarios for now.

Thank you for reading

[ambrossart]

Out of the Loop

summary: eddie went home with someone after prom, and gareth is determined to figure out who it was.

pairing: eddie munson x dwm!reader word count: 11k warnings: language, new relationship, eddie's girlfriend is gareth's arch nemesis, silly childhood rivalries, eddie being happy and stupidly in love, jason being an overprotective ass, chrissy being an adorable little cupcake, the reader is chrissy's best friend, the unnamed freak is named grant in this series

series masterpost | series playlist | fanfiction masterlist

On Monday morning, Gareth peddled to school like a man on a mission.

Nothing was getting in his way today, not his mother, who had accidentally washed his Hellfire Club shirt with all his little sister’s dance clothes,

“You know what, honey, I think it looks better this way…”

not his sister, who had been hogging the bathroom all morning because she couldn’t get her hair right,

“Look, you don’t understand the pressure I’m under right now. Becca Singer is finalizing her birthday party guest list today. I have to look my best if I wanna make the cut.”

not the weatherman, who was painfully misinformed when he called for clear, sunny skies today…

and certainly not the piece of crap Chevy that just cut him off in the middle of the crosswalk.

Gareth swerved out of the way and kept on peddling. The rain pelted his face in a spray of ice-cold bullets.

Behind him, the driver yelled, “Hey, watch where you’re going, you little shit!”  

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Because Gareth was sitting on a goldmine of information right now. It was truly the scoop of the century. Eddie Munson—that’s right, Eddie “the Freak” Munson—had gone home with somebody after the senior prom.

Who was this mysterious (not to mention incredibly lucky) woman? A curious cheerleader desperate to defy her clique? A rich girl trying to piss off her dad? A shy bookworm who wanted to act out the plot of her favorite romance novel? Who? Who? Gareth’s head was spinning! The question hungrily devoured the rest of his weekend (something Gareth wasn’t too proud to admit, of course, but hey, Sundays were always uneventful days for him). He had to get to school quickly and consult his most trusted sources.

He found Jeff and Grant sitting at their usual table in the cafeteria. Grant was eating the school’s hot breakfast while Jeff sat with his head in his hands, lamenting the sorry state of his love life.

“Tara’s still not talking to me. I’m pretty sure she’s gonna dump me for Patrick McKinney.”

Grant put down his fork. “Wait, you two were dating?”

“No…” Jeff heaved a quiet sigh. “But if we were, she’d definitely dump me for Patrick.”

Grant frowned, sympathetic yet envious of his friend’s plight. “Man, I wish Meg would stop talking to me. She had me on the phone all night yesterday. I think she wants me to be her boyfriend or something.” Grant cringed at the thought. He didn’t have the strength to put up with her. He’d barely survived prom. 

“You don’t like her?” Jeff asked.

“Not really,” Grant answered. “I mean, yeah, she’s pretty and all, but as soon as she starts talking—”

Gareth slammed a wrinkled piece of notebook paper onto the table. The loud bang echoed through the entire cafeteria, making a few students gasp and flinch in their chairs. Jeff and Grant didn’t move in the slightest. This was typical Monday morning behavior for Gareth.

“What’s with the pink shirt?” Grant asked, unfazed. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Gareth said. They had more pressing matters to discuss. He sat down and folded his hands in front of him, his blue eyes clear and focused. He wasted no time getting straight to the point: “Who’d Eddie go home with after prom?”

Jeff and Grant exchanged a subtle, secret glance.

“How do you know Eddie went home with someone after prom?” Jeff asked.

“Because I called him that night.”

“Why’d you call him?”

“Because I’m a good friend, unlike some people.” Nobody had called him asking how his night went. Gareth sat home alone on Saturday night, eating popcorn and watching old sci-fi movies in his basement, while the rest of his friends had a blast at prom. It wasn’t fair. “I wanted to check in on him because I figured he might be a little depressed after getting rejected by Chrissy. Because let’s be honest here, there was no way that Chrissy was ever gonna dance with him. You all agree with me, right? I’m not just being a dick here. Like, yeah, I know Eddie’s riding high right now because he thinks this year is his year and everything, but… yeah, he was aiming a bit too high with that goal.” 

“Can you get to the point, please?” Grant said. “My breakfast is getting cold.” 

“Well, multitask, man!” Gareth grabbed Grant’s fork and threw it back onto his tray. “What, you can’t listen and eat at the same time?”

Grant rolled his eyes and went back to his breakfast. Gareth carried on with his story:

“So anyway, when I called him on Saturday, I expected him to sound all mopey and depressed, but he wasn’t. Yeah, Eddie wasn’t depressed at all. In fact, he sounded oddly… happy, but also a little bit distracted. You guys see where I’m going with this, right?”

“I hate that I do,” Grant said, struggling to enjoy his food.

“Well, that’s when I started getting suspicious. See, I could tell I didn’t have his full attention, and that’s just so unlike Eddie because he’s normally really good at maintaining proper phone etiquette. Weird, right? So then I got curious and I started listening, and… and I can’t be sure, but I think I heard a girl talking in the background.”

“Maybe it was just the TV,” Grant said.

Gareth shook his head. “No way… I know the difference between a TV voice and a live human voice. Someone was definitely with him.”

“Well, did you recognize the voice?” Jeff asked.

“No, I couldn’t hear well enough.”

Grant’s eyes narrowed. “And yet you’re sure it wasn’t the TV…”

“Oh come on, it wasn’t the TV, you guys. Wake up and smell the coffee! Eddie brought a girl to his house. He brought a girl to his house. She was with him in the room while he was on the phone with me. I could hear her talking. Then Eddie started acting really weird, said he had to go, and rushed me off the phone.”

“Gross,” Grant muttered, sickened. “Yeah, these are details I did not need.” 

Gareth’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp. “Wait, do you guys think he slept with her?” and that was more than Jeff could handle.

He buried his face in his hands and said, “Please stop. I don’t wanna go to class with these images in my head.”

Grant shrugged. “Maybe it was just a one-night stand.”

Jeff threw him a sharp, side-eyed glare. 

“Just saying,” Grant finished, smirking.

“No, I seriously doubt it,” Gareth went on, completely unaware. “Eddie’s not really a one-night stand kinda guy… not by choice, anyway. No, I think this might be the real deal, you guys, ‘cause listen to this: I went to go see him yesterday. Eddie wasn’t home.”

“So?”

“So I think he was with her. I called him last night and asked him where he was all day. He said he was out running errands.” Gareth scrunched up his face at that, doubtful. “Since when does Eddie run errands? So I said, ‘What sort of errands were you running?’ He said he had to swing by the drugstore. I said, ‘Well, what did you need at the drugstore?’ but he wouldn’t answer that. Yeah, he was being awfully mum.”

“Mum?” Jeff repeated to himself, mystified by his friend’s bizarre word choice.

Grant said, “He was probably annoyed that you were digging around in his business. I know I would be.”

“Oh yeah, he was definitely getting annoyed,” Gareth said. “Then he cut the conversation short and told me he was stepping out for the night. That’s when I knew this was serious. Eddie doesn’t just ‘step out’ on a Sunday night. He hardly goes out any night. If he’s not with us, he’s sitting at home and playing songs on his guitar. Yeah, he was definitely with her last night.”

Grant sighed, hoping they’d finally reached the end of this long-winded story. “Well, I guess you cracked the case then, Gareth.”

“But that’s just it, I haven’t!” Gareth said. Grant let out an exhausted moan. “I still don’t know who this girl is. You guys swear you didn’t see Eddie go home with anybody after prom?”

Another secret glance.

“Nope,” Jeff said. “I didn’t see him go home with anyone that night.”

Gareth nodded, disappointed but not yet defeated. “Yeah, I thought you might say that. That’s why I made this.”

He gestured toward the piece of paper on the table. Jeff picked it up and read it over. Then he passed it to Grant so he could do the same.

“Okay, what exactly am I looking at here?” Grant asked.

“It’s a list of suspects,” Gareth said, a proud smile on his face. “Yeah, last night I compiled a list of every girl I’ve ever seen Eddie interact with at school, and then this morning I whittled that list down to what I think are the most likely suspects.”

“Not a very long list,” Jeff said.

“Really?” said Grant. “I was gonna say it’s too long.” 

They shared a little chuckle over that. Gareth glowered at them, unamused. He didn’t appreciate them making little jabs about their Dungeon Master’s love life, stagnant as it was.

“You know,” Grant began with ominous deliberation, “I can’t help but notice there’s a name missing from this list.”

Gareth's head snapped back in surprise. “Who?”

“You know who,” Grant said. Beside him, Jeff was holding in a grin.

A disturbing chill crept up Gareth's spine. Then—

BAM!

Your name cracked down from above like a fiendish lightning bolt, striking Gareth and making all the little hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. For a second, he could see your name so clearly. It loomed before him, ugly and terrible, festering with pus and crawling with maggots, getting pecked savagely by vultures and other scavengers. It made him retch with disgust.

“Oh, very funny…”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Grant said, “there’s no denying that she’s a likely suspect.” 

“In fact,” Jeff continued, “some might say she’s the most likely suspect.” 

“Yeah, maybe back in middle school,” Gareth said, “but Eddie hasn’t so much as looked at her in years.”

Except for that one time, he thought, remembering the mournful look on his friend’s face that day.

They were all eating lunch when your laughter suddenly sprang up from the other side of the cafeteria, obnoxious and shrill. Eddie glanced your way and his eyes darkened with such hollow sadness. It was as if someone had died.

But that didn’t mean anything, Gareth decided, so he shoved the memory away.

“All right, look, I’ll admit we lost him briefly for that one summer. I dunno how she did it, but somehow she got her claws in him real deep and he was completely under her spell. I won’t deny that. But then Eddie woke up and saw her for what she really is—an ugly green hag! At first, she appears as this beautiful, enchanting woman, but underneath that guise, she’s a wretched old witch who thrives on torment. Yeah, Eddie got over her a long time ago,” and Gareth refused to waste another thought on it.

He snatched the paper from Grant and laid it out in front of him. “Now, here’s what I’m thinking: if we split this up among the three of us, we can get through this list by lunch and then confront Eddie with our findings.”

“Yeah, we’re not doing that,” Grant said.

Gareth frowned. “Why not?”

“Because we already know who it is.”

Gareth’s eyes widened in surprised anger. “I KNEW IT! I FUCKING KNEW IT! I knew you two were messing with me this whole time. Sitting there with your smug little faces. Making your little jokes. You know what, screw you guys, I don’t even want your help anymore.”

He stuffed the paper back into his bag, climbed to his feet, and stomped off.

Over his shoulder, Jeff said, “Shoulda gone to prom, man.”

Gareth paused, dejected. “Well, no one would go with me…” He pushed through the double doors and was gone.

Afterward, Grant picked up his milk carton and took a few slow slips.

“You know what,” he said thoughtfully, “Gareth should’ve asked Y/N to prom.”

Jeff chuckled to himself. “Well, she did need a date… Shit, should we have just told him?”

“No,” Grant said. “No, this is something Gareth needs to see with his own eyes.”

Now Gareth, his resolve reignited and burning brighter than ever, was prowling the senior locker area with his suspect list in hand. 

Let them keep their secrets, he thought. I don’t need their help. A lot of help they would’ve been, anyway. Yeah, I can solve this mystery all on my own.

And he would. 

Gareth was a fantastic investigator, you see. He could win a game of Guess Who? in less than five turns and had a lifetime record of fifty-three wins and only fifteen losses (such losses were unavoidable when you drew an easily guessable character like Anita. Ugh, Anita… with those rosy cheeks and annoying blonde pigtails. His little sister beat him in only two moves after that unlucky draw). Now Gareth would apply those same deductive reasoning skills to this. Ask careful, complex questions. Gather information. Cross those ladies off one by one.

There was only one problem: the girls at Hawkins High weren’t exactly forthcoming about their personal lives, especially when it involved Eddie Munson. In fact, most girls denied ever having spoken to the guy. 

Claire Dunnock, the most recent inductee into the popular clique, was being especially difficult.

Her blue eyes shifted back and forth anxiously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, and then leaned forward to make sure none of her new friends were eavesdropping. Claire had to be very careful. One misstep and she would slide all the way back down the social ladder. She couldn’t afford to let that happen.

Gareth sensed her unease. “Hey, relax,” he told her, “I’m not here to ruin your reputation, okay? This conversation stays between us. You have my word.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Claire said. “I wouldn’t be caught dead with that freak.”

“Hey, that freak is my best friend,” Gareth said. “And you and I both know that’s not true, Claire. I saw you get into his van that one—”

Claire seized him by the arm and hissed, “Shut up!” Her eyes blazed with fearful, self-protective rage. “Look, that was a year ago, okay? I was a stupid junior who didn’t know any better. Eddie and I had a class together. I guess I got a little curious, but that’s it. We hung out once and I never spoke to him again.” Loosening her grip, she said, “Besides, he was nothing but a big disappointment, anyway.”

Anger flared in Gareth’s chest. “All right, that's it. I’m not gonna stand here and listen to you slander my friend.” 

“It’s not slander if it’s true,” Claire said. 

Gareth didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Look, just answer my question, okay? Did you go home with Eddie after prom or not?”

“Of course not,” Claire answered, practically cackling at the thought. 

(Why were high school girls so needlessly cruel?)

“I went to prom with my boyfriend. I was with him all night. Ask anyone.” Claire swung her locker door closed, put her hand on her hip, and raised her eyebrows impatiently. “Are we done now?” She walked off to join the rest of her friends. 

Gareth glared at her back, his insides boiling with indignation and righteous fury.

You got curious and Eddie got his heart broken. Again.

He crossed out Claire’s name with his pen. 

Two suspects down. Eight more to go.

He tucked his pen behind his ear, turned, and suddenly the hallway froze over!

Okay, that didn’t actually happen, but a bitter wind did blow. Gareth felt it on his face as soon as he saw you step out from around the corner. 

Coincidence? 

Doubtful.

You were wearing blue jeans and a Fleetwood Mac shirt. Yeah, you would like Fleetwood Mac, Gareth thought, scoffing. As usual, you were walking side by side with Chrissy Cunningham, your best friend since elementary school. She was smiling and laughing at one of your jokes. Laughing out of politeness, probably. Why you two were friends, Gareth would never know. Chrissy was sweet like cotton candy and you were so… so…

(evil, pure evil)

rotten to the core, like moldy fruit.

“I swear,” you said with a groan, “it’ll be weeks before your mom lets me into the house again. God, she’s such a prude. How was I supposed to know she was gonna invite the whole family over for Sunday brunch? At least I was dressed for the occasion.”

Chrissy looked at you in baffled amusement. “You were still wearing your prom dress.”

“And it was a very nice prom dress. Your grandma even complimented it. She said it made me look like Madonna.” You weren’t too thrilled about that comparison, but who were you to pass up a free compliment? “Now your mom, on the other hand… man, if looks could kill… I probably would’ve choked on one of those blueberry scones she was serving, which were a tad overbaked if I’m being honest.”

Chrissy went to her locker and fiddled with the padlock for a second before opening it. You stood patiently beside her, the wall clock barely within view. 

It was a quarter past eight, you noted with a frown. Was Eddie here already or…? 

While hanging up her pink backpack, Chrissy said, “Yeah, she definitely had some colorful words to describe you last night.” 

You turned your attention back to her. “Your mom called me a slut, didn’t she?”

Chrissy didn’t answer at first. She was busy unloading her homework. While she was doing that, one of her fellow cheerleaders snuck up behind her, tapped her on the shoulder, and gave a cheerful, heartfelt hello. Chrissy hugged her and asked how her weekend was. The two chatted casually for a minute and then the girl went on her way. Never so much as glanced at you. 

“Umm, I believe she used the word harlot,” Chrissy said to you afterward. 

“Oh, she got biblical, huh?” Great, you thought, as if that woman didn’t despise you enough already. “You know, I don’t understand your mom. First I’m too fat to be your friend. Now I’m too much of a slut. That lady needs to pick a lane and stay in it… and then drive herself right off a cliff.”  

Chrissy threw you a friendly glare.

“Just kidding,” you said. “You know I love your mom. She keeps me grounded. Without her, I might develop a healthy self-esteem, and we all know how dangerous that is. Yeah, that might lead to confidence and success… perhaps even lifelong happiness.” 

Ignoring you (or pretending to), Chrissy started digging through her backpack again. “Dammit,” she said under her breath, “I think I left my pencil case at home.” 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Jason has a pencil for you.” You smiled inwardly—a willful, wicked smile. “Then again…”  

Chrissy pushed her locker closed, grabbed both your hands, backed you up against the lockers, and brought her face really close to yours. “Shut up,” she whispered in half-hearted anger, a rosy blush blooming on the apples of her cheeks. 

You took one look at her and busted out laughing. Chrissy started laughing, too. 

“I hate you so much,” she said, and released you. 

“I know,” you replied affectionately. “But see, this is why the whole situation with your mom is so funny to me. I’m the one who’s still a virgin, yet somehow it’s me who gets labeled the…” 

You spotted a familiar face down the hall. 

“Gareth?” You leaned toward him, squinting. “What are you doing in the senior locker area?”

The sound of your voice made him flinch. “Nothing,” he said, acting strangely defensive for some reason.

That’s when you noticed the piece of paper in his hand. You gestured toward it with your chin and said, “What’s that you got there? Is that a love letter? You finally asking someone out on a date? Will you go out with me? Check yes or no. Who’s the lucky lady? Wait, aren’t you a little young to be dating?”

Gareth hid the paper behind his back and glared at you. “We’re the same age.” 

“And yet I’m a senior and you’re a junior. Hmm, how did that happen?” You tipped your head and smiled at him. “You’ve got company, by the way.” 

“Huh?” Gareth stepped back and—

A hand landed on his shoulder, closed around his flannel shirt, and spun him around. Gareth jumped back, swallowing a scream. He was now standing nose to chest with Ben Jabruski, outside linebacker and two-time defensive player of the year. Eric Kordell stood beside him, smaller but no less intimidating. His brown eyes gleamed with feral, territorial aggression. 

“Get outta here, freak,” Eric said. 

Gareth squared up to him, unafraid. “Last time I checked this was a free country.” He wrenched his shirt out of Ben’s grip, careful not to tear his favorite flannel. It was a Christmas gift from his mother. 

While he was distracted, Eric reached out and ripped the paper out of Gareth’s hand. 

“Hey, give that back!” 

“What’s this?” Eric asked. He opened the paper and studied it for a minute. His expression went from amused to curious to downright furious. He crushed the list in his fist. “Why’s my girlfriend on here?” 

“Oh…” Panic shot up Gareth’s spine. He took a step back and let loose a nervous chuckle. “Oh, you must be Claire’s boyfriend. You know, I heard you two had a lovely time at prom.” 

He turned on his heel and took off running down the hallway. 

“Bye, Gareth!” you said, fluttering your fingers as he passed. Then you looked back at Chrissy with a smile. “God, I love that kid…”

You went to your locker after that, ignoring all the busy little voices, the occasional odd glance and stifled giggle you received from the other students. Chrissy followed with her first-period textbook cradled in her arms. 

“Just ignore them,” she told you. 

“I already am,” you said… but then you saw Sarah, Sally, and Stacy huddled around Stacy’s locker. Talking about their hair. Talking about their clothes. Stirring their black cauldron of boiling bones and animal guts. Sarah looked at you, whispered something to Sally, who passed the same message on to Stacy, and all three of them tittered gleefully at your expense. 

“Just ignore them,” Chrissy said.

“I will,” you said, but first—

You whipped around and burst out: “So which one of you got knocked up after prom? My money’s on you, Stacy.” 

Chrissy, dismayed but secretly delighted, tugged gently on your right elbow. Before going with her, you tossed Satan’s mistress (AKA Stacy Raab) a snide little wink. Stacy rolled her eyes in disgust. 

“Stop it,” Chrissy said. 

“They started it.” 

“I know… but stop it. You’re better than that.” 

At the end of the hallway, you spotted Chance Gallagher standing in front of his open locker, wearing the same green letterman jacket that he’d worn when he asked you to prom six weeks ago. Chance closed his locker and caught your eye for a moment. Then he gave you a small, apologetic smile. 

What was he apologizing for? For asking you to prom, getting your hopes up, and then humiliating you in front of the entire senior class? You weren’t sorry he did it. In fact, you were glad he did it. Yeah, you wanted to go up to him, shake his hand, and thank him for being such a spineless little worm. If he were a decent guy, your night might have gone differently, and you were quite pleased with how your night went. So thank you, Chance. Thank you for being a complete scumbag. Maybe I should write him a thank-you note.

Smiling, you turned back around. As you did, you stole another quick glance at the clock on the wall. 

Eight-nineteen…

You sighed. 

… and now eight-twenty.

“He’s running late, huh?” Chrissy said. You looked her way and she flashed you a sweet, teasing smile. “I know you’re waiting for him.”

A small flush of heat tickled your cheeks, threatening to set your whole face on fire. Resisting it, you grabbed your padlock and started spinning the dial: three turns to the right, one full turn to the left, another quick turn to the right, and

“Are you nervous about seeing him?”

you missed the last number and had to start all over again. 

“Kind of,” you admitted. “Is that weird?”

Chrissy shook her head, her smile growing brighter and brighter. “Nope, it’s totally normal and absolutely adorable.” Giggling, she hugged her book tightly to her chest. If her hands were free, she probably would have hugged you instead. “I’m so happy for you. I really, really am. I swear, I feel like my heart’s about to burst right now.” 

“Well, you should probably see a doctor about that.” 

Chrissy stuck her tongue out at you. You did it right back, popped off your lock, and pulled on the handle. The locker door swung outward, squeaking on its hinges, and almost smacked Chrissy in the face. “Hey!” she said, laughing. She stepped back, skipped around you, and planted herself comfortably on your left side.

“So did you see him last night?” she asked, practically beaming. 

“Nope.” You slipped off your messenger bag and hung it on the hook. 

Chrissy squinted at you suspiciously. “Why do I feel like you’re lying right now?” 

“I’m not lying,” you told her, only to be betrayed by your blushing face. “I didn’t see him last night… technically it was this morning.” 

Twelve-o-two, to be exact. That’s when you saw the headlights flashing through your bedroom window blinds.

“Oh my god,” Chrissy said.  

“What? He just stopped by to say goodnight.” You smiled softly to yourself. “It was kind of romantic, actually.” 

“Uh-huh,” Chrissy said, laughing at you. “And how long did you two say goodnight?”

“Only for an hour… and a half.”

It was raining last night. You couldn’t invite Eddie into the house, so you two hung out in his van for a while. A very long while. W.A.S.P. was playing on the stereo. Eddie had found the cassette tape while cleaning out his van that afternoon. He was very proud of this accomplishment. It was adorable. He had you listen to a few of his favorite songs, asked you about your day, told you about his, and during “Cries In the Night,” he leaned over the center console and kissed you. Everything after that was a bit of a blur. The last thing you remembered was the horn blaring. You had accidentally pressed it with your elbow.  

“Oh my god,” Chrissy said.

“Stop saying, ‘Oh my god.’ You sound like my mom.”  

She had said the exact same thing after confronting you about it in the kitchen this morning. Turns out, the car horn had woken her up. Then she caught you creeping back inside through the front door. It was an awkward breakfast, to say the least. 

Chrissy poked your shoulder playfully. “That’s how it starts, you know. Late-night visits. Long, drawn-out goodbyes. You two are gonna be inseparable this summer.” She breathed a long, lovesick sigh. “Jason and I used to be like that.” 

“You’re still like that.” 

“Yeah,” she said, smiling. 

“Speaking of…” You saw Jason Carver coming down the hallway, his pants ironed and creased, white collared shirt tucked in, a brand-new Rolex glinting on his left wrist (an early graduation present from his father, apparently). He looked like a Ralph Lauren catalog model. “Is it weird that I’m picturing him naked right now?”

Chrissy hid her face in embarrassment. “I swear to God, if you say anything…” 

“What am I gonna say to him? ‘Thank you for deflowering my best friend’? ‘I heard your penis is rather pleasing’? I don’t wanna talk to him about that. I don’t even wanna think about that.”

Prior to this weekend, you couldn’t even imagine Jason Carver having genitals. You always figured he was like a Ken doll down there. Nothing but smooth plastic.

Chrissy looked at you, mortified. “Why do I tell you anything?”  

“I have no idea,” you said. Then you checked the clock again. 

Eight twenty-three. 

Where the hell’s Eddie? you wondered, starting to get a little worried.

Jason’s arrival reclaimed your attention. 

“Hey, guys,” he said in that smooth drawl that made all the girls swoon. 

You expected to find him standing with his million-dollar smile, but he wasn’t. No, today Jason seemed different—humble, approachable, perhaps even a little shy. It was as if he’d reverted back to his ten-year-old self. Little Jason Carver, who could barely dribble a basketball. The boy who stammered when he introduced himself to the rest of the class. The boy who sat down next to you, smiled, and said he liked the character on your favorite shirt. The boy who talked to you every day. Encouraged you. Defended you. The boy you caught staring at your best friend way too many times to be a coincidence. 

Then you looked at Chrissy and she seemed younger, too. A blushing, fidgeting ten-year-old who always forgot to stand up straight. She got so excited when Jason offered to walk her home from school. He even carried my books!

Back then, your happiness for them had been counterfeit, complicated, but not anymore. Yeah, now you could say you were genuinely happy for both of them. 

This was still awkward as hell, though.

“Hey, Chrissy needs to borrow a pencil,” you blurted out, breaking their amorous trance.

A soft pink flush rose to Jason’s cheeks. “What?”

“Just ignore her,” Chrissy said, struggling to keep a straight face. 

Meanwhile, you punched Jason on the shoulder. “Hey, don’t forget about our deal, buddy.” 

“I haven’t,” he told you. “I’ll buy your lunch, as promised. It’s the least I can do.” 

“What if I want two lunches? And a whole plate of cookies?”

“Then I guess I’m buying you two lunches and a whole plate of cookies.” 

Jason smiled at you… but then his demeanor changed, hardening like armor. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You blinked at him. “Am I okay?” you repeated slowly, a little taken aback. “Well, I did wake up with a strange tattoo on my wrist. It’s like a crucifix, except it’s upside-down. Weird… Also, I can’t be sure, but I think I might be dealing with a Rosemary’s Baby scenario. Yeah, I’m definitely gonna be giving birth to the Antichrist in about nine months. Buy something black.” 

Jason’s eyes widened in confused horror. 

“Oh my god, I’m kidding!” you said. “Eddie was a complete gentleman. He even asked for permission before he impregnated me with his hellseed. Naturally, I gave him the green light because… well, have you seen his face? It’s kinda perfect.” 

Chrissy put her hand over her mouth and giggled. Jason didn’t appreciate your joke. 

“Come on, be serious.” 

“I am being serious. Believe it or not, I actually find him insanely attractive. He’s like a discount version of Eddie Van Halen, and I can’t afford the real thing, so…” 

“So you actually slept with him?” Jason sounded disappointed and ashamed. He reminded you of your father. 

No, worse than your father.

“Well, no, I was kidding about that. I mean, I did sleep with him, but not in the way you’re assuming. And are you seriously gonna judge me for having sex? It’s been a while since I’ve been to church, but I’m pretty sure the bible condemns hypocrisy. You might wanna reread those sections. I think you’ll find them very enlightening.”

Jason ground his jaw in irritation. “Stop making jokes.” 

“I don’t want to,” you said finally, your voice breaking, “because then I’m just gonna get really, really mad like I’m doing right now, and I don’t wanna be mad at you, Jason. I was having a really good morning until you showed up.” 

By now, Chrissy had stopped laughing. Her shoulders drooped and she looked at you with a sick, sorry expression. 

Jason said, “Look, I just think you’re undervaluing yourself, okay? You can do so much better than that—”

“Oh, please don’t do that. Don’t try to talk to me like you’re my friend.” 

“I am your friend.” 

“Then be my friend, Jason. Stop trying to ruin my happiness!”

The school bell dinged and students began making their way to class. Jason went, too. Didn’t even bother saying goodbye. Chrissy told you not to worry about him. “Jason’ll come around eventually.” Then she smiled, waved goodbye, and ran to catch up with him. 

You weren’t half as optimistic as she was. 

This is gonna be a huge problem, isn’t it?  

You groaned, dreading it. 

Behind you, another wave of students came rushing down the hallway. Brittany Wirth was among them. You knew because you could hear her shrill voice piercing through the dull chatter around her. She was ranting about prom, complaining about the flowers, complaining about the food, about the music, about—

“YOU!” 

You flinched and turned around, thinking she was talking to you. 

What you saw made your eyes light up with glee. Brittany Wirth had Eddie Munson pinned up against the lockers, and she was jabbing him in the chest with her index finger. 

“You, sir, are a total asshole! Do you have any idea how hard I worked on that event? I was planning it for months, planning it to perfection, and then YOU had to go and make it all about yourself, as usual.” She stepped back and huffed, exhausted. “I hope you’re proud of yourself.” 

“I’m a little proud of myself,” Eddie replied candidly. 

Brittany shot him a deadly glare. “Oh, shut up!” She swept her hair off her shoulder and walked away.

You stopped her as she passed. “You know what, Brittany, all things considered, I thought it was a very successful night.” 

Brittany’s jaw dropped and got stuck like that, locked in befuddled rage. Not a single sound came out, but you could tell she was trying to speak. Was this it? Had it finally happened? Did Brittany Wirth actually crack? She worked her lips unsuccessfully for a minute and then closed them again, steaming in her hatred, screaming internally like a boiling teapot. She brushed past you and continued on her way. 

Then you heard Eddie approach you.  

“Did I really make the night all about me?” 

His question made you giggle. “A little bit.” You turned around with a smile, glad to see him, relieved to see him. “I still had a good time, though.” 

“Well, that’s all that matters,” Eddie said, but there was something in your eyes that made him frown with concern. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you said, and blinked that silly little worry away. “Jason’s just being… well, Jason.” 

“I take it he doesn’t approve of me.” 

“Yeah, you’ve really got him clutching his bible. He thinks you’re gonna drain my blood and sacrifice me to the devil.” 

“Really?” Eddie said, his eyes widening in false astonishment. “Well, he just spoiled our next date.” 

“Oh, really?” you replied, giggling. “Well, I guess that explains why I’m still a virgin.” 

Eddie winced, looked down at his shoes, and grinned bashfully. “Okay, I walked right into that one.”

“Yeah, you did,” you said; and God, it drove you crazy seeing him get so flustered.

Kinda like last night, you thought, startling yourself, and immediately shooed that dangerous thought away. Now was not the time for that, young lady. You still had a full day of school to get through. Somehow.

“You’re late,” you said.

“Yeah, I uh…” Eddie brought his hand to his face and started rubbing it. “I got pulled over for speeding.”

You gasped. “No, you didn’t.” 

“Yeah, I did.” 

“Prove it.”

Eddie pulled a folded-up piece of paper out of his back pocket and handed it to you. You opened it and immediately busted out laughing. 

“Oh, wow… going fifty-five in a forty-five.” 

“Eh, they went easy on me… I was going at least sixty.” 

“Wow…” 

“Yeah…” Eddie said, tilting his head. “The one time I’m in a rush to get to school.” 

His brown eyes sought yours and settled there for a moment, his lips curling into a tender, captivated smile. You smiled back helplessly, feeling girly, feeling giddy, feeling like you were probably grinning like an idiot right now. Embarrassed, you pressed the paper to your mouth in a vain attempt to hide it. When that didn’t work, you thrust the ticket back into Eddie’s hand and turned away, pretending to pull books from your locker. 

You felt along the spines like someone fumbling around in the dark. What class were you going to again? History? English? French? 

No, you weren’t even taking French.

You spoke to Eddie in a frazzled voice: “Well, since you’re not in handcuffs right now, I’m assuming they didn’t find anything when they searched your van, huh?” 

“Luckily, no…” 

“Good thing you cleaned out your van yesterday.”

“Mhm…” Eddie said, his voice seeming much closer than before.

Your roaming fingers slowed, then stopped, sliding all the way down the stack of books. With one more step, his presence had consumed you, making you blind and deaf to everything else, everything except Eddie. You could feel him standing next to you, leaning into you, his left hand outstretched and resting against the locker beside you. His voice sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Find what you’re looking for yet?”

You gazed into his eyes and got lost in them. “… I can’t remember what class I’m going to.”

You laughed at yourself sheepishly, senselessly, and saw Eddie crack a small smile: half amused and half… something else, something that brought you back to last night—that quiet, rainy night. Sitting in the dark and listening to music. Eddie humming softly beside you, drumming his right hand on the steering wheel, watching the tiny droplets race down his windshield. You sitting in your seat nervously. Fidgeting restlessly. Running your fingers over the plastic cassette case on your lap. Pretending to take interest in it while secretly watching Eddie out of the corner of your eye. Waiting for him to kiss you. Hoping he’d kiss you. Catching him staring at you with that smile… the same smile he was giving you now… right before he leaned in and…

“Ahem.” 

Another student appeared behind you, tapping her foot impatiently. “Uhh, can I get to my locker, please?”

Eddie drew away from you, embarrassed and a little frustrated, and took two giant steps back.

The girl assumed his place without a word, opened her locker, hung up her backpack, her jacket, grabbed her textbook and notebook, snatched a few pens from her bag, and closed her locker again. Before leaving, she motioned between you and Eddie and said, “So is this like a thing now?”

You caught Eddie’s eye for a second. “Uhh, yes,” you said while he fought back a huge smile.

The girl shook her head as if dizzy. “Weird,” she said, and left. 

Afterward, you turned to Eddie with a puzzled frown. “Wait, is it weird that I’m dating you or that you’re dating me? I need to know where I rank in this relationship.”

“Maybe you should ask her.” 

“Maybe I will…” 

Giggling, you stepped past him, spotted your locker neighbor at the end of the hallway, cupped your hands over your mouth, and shouted, “Hey, Carmen!” but you never got a chance to finish. Eddie had grabbed your hand and dragged you back to him, pulling you into his arms, putting you right where he wanted you, intending to pick up exactly where he left off.

The second bell rang before you could even feel his breath on your lips. Eddie closed his eyes tightly, as if pained. 

“I really hate that I have to be in school right now.” 

“Me too,” you said, staring up at him, your heart still pounding in your chest. “We should probably get to class.”  

Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist and held you tighter against him. “Or we could just, y’know, skip first period altogether… since you don’t know where you’re supposed to be anyway.” 

He swooped down and placed a few chaste kisses along the side of your head. Blushing, you buried your face into his chest. 

“Are you trying to get me to cut class, sir?”

“No, just giving you options.” 

“Mhm,” you said, giggling. 

While you contemplated his offer, you traced your hand over the button pocket of his denim vest, feeling the fabric, flicking each of his treasured pins one by one: Judas Priest, Accept, Mercyful Fate. You found the W.A.S.P. pin last and focused on it, teasing it with your finger. 

“And then what?” you asked, lifting your head to look at him. “We go back to your van and finish what you started last night?” 

Eddie’s eyes brightened in surprise. “Finish what you started, if I remember correctly.”  

“Was I the one who started it?” You frowned, pretending not to remember. 

Meanwhile, your hand had drifted up to the collar of his leather jacket. You nudged it out of the way and started tugging along the neckline of his shirt, revealing a faint pink bruise on the base of his collarbone. Eddie winced as your finger brushed over it. You smiled softly, remembering how his breath hitched when your lips made the first budding mark, how he cursed and moaned while you planted all the others, his hands slipping underneath your shirt and sliding across your skin. 

“I may have gotten a little carried away…”

“Yeah, you definitely did,” Eddie said, smiling at you.  

“I just really like W.A.S.P.”

“Do you?” 

“Mhm…”

Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he laughed. “Well, I still have the tape in my van. We can go listen to it right now if you want.” 

You bit your lip hard, unable to answer right away. God dammit, what had you gotten yourself into? You weren’t seriously considering his proposition before, but now…

“Go to class, please.” 

Now Ms. Kelley had come out of her office and was sweeping away the last few stragglers, you and Eddie included.

“I know we’re all a little sluggish this morning, but let’s start this week off strong, okay? There’s still another month before graduation. Don’t lose your focus now.” She looked at you and Eddie tiredly. “You two. Class. Now.”

You sighed as you saw your window of opportunity close. Eddie peeled himself away from you and started down the hallway.  

“See ya later,” he said over his shoulder. 

“Bye,” you said back, hiding your disappointment behind a smile. 

Upon returning to your locker, you grabbed your textbook—the right textbook—and wedged it in the crook of your left elbow. While hunting around for the matching notebook and folder, you heard Eddie’s voice behind you again, catching you completely by surprise.

“Oh, wait,” he said hurriedly, “I forgot to tell you something.” 

“Hmm?”

You turned around and felt Eddie’s hands cup the sides of your face, drawing you in for a soft, sweet kiss. You closed your eyes, savoring it. A moment later, he broke the kiss and pulled away.

“See you in third period,” he said, departing with a smile. 

It took you a second to recover from that. When you finally did, you clutched your textbook to your chest and smiled uncontrollably, tears brimming in your eyes, your heart racing, stomach fluttering, face glowing with pure, radiant joy. 

Under your breath, you whispered, “I hate so much that I have to be in school right now.”

Gareth, on the other hand, was glad to be in school today. Admittedly, his morning had gotten off to a rough start, but things were finally starting to look up for him, and now he felt like he was on the verge of a major breakthrough. 

Maybe. 

Hopefully.

But he didn’t wanna jinx it. 

In first period, Gareth snuck into the library and talked to Matilda Gunn: salutatorian, captain of the debate team, and the third name on Gareth’s list (his new list, of course; the original list was long gone, probably lying in a trashcan somewhere).

Matilda, anyway, was sitting at the back table and studying for her upcoming physics test. Matilda preferred studying in the library over her study hall class because she couldn’t stand the sound of her neighbor chewing and slurping his nails. She wasn’t too happy when Gareth pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. She was even less happy when he brought up Eddie Munson. 

“First of all, I’m offended that you would even think I would associate with that moron. I hate the guy. He ruined my GPA. Stupid group projects… God, I hate them!” Enraged, Matilda tore a random leaf out of her notebook and ripped the poor thing to shreds. Gareth watched her do it, horrified, and hoped there was nothing important written on that page. “You know, if I’d known he was gonna slack off like he did, I would’ve just done the whole thing myself. But no… I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I gave him the easiest task and he couldn’t even do that. He said he forgot about it. Said he was busy working on a campaign or something.”

“Yeah, he gets like that sometimes,” Gareth said. “Like last month, he spent the whole weekend learning ‘Master of Puppets.’ Have you heard that song?” 

Matilda shook her head, her eyes glazed with boredom. 

“Well, doesn’t matter. It’s a very hard song to play. That’s all you need to know. And Eddie became obsessed with it. He locked himself in his room all weekend and practiced over and over and—” 

Matilda pressed her hand to her temple and hissed, “Listen, junior freak, I don’t give a shit about Eddie Munson and his fucking guitar. Okay? Second of all, I didn’t even go to prom on Saturday. I was studying all weekend, studying for this test, and if I don’t get an A, I’m gonna hold you personally responsible. Now get lost.”

Gareth lurched back in his seat and felt his mouth go dry. 

(Once again, why were high school girls so needlessly cruel?)

“Okay,” he said in a small voice. “I’m, uhh, sorry for bothering you.” 

He got up to leave. 

“Wait,” Matilda said with a sigh; then after a moment of careful, painful deliberation, she put out her hand. “Gimme your stupid list.”

Gareth held the list against his chest, protecting it. “You’re not gonna rip it up, are you?” he asked, observing the tattered remains of her last victim. “Because I’m getting kinda tired of writing all these names out.”

And some of those girls had really long names.  

“I’m not gonna rip it up.” Matilda’s voice was strained with frustration and fatigue, but there was still some warmth hiding in there, dimly glowing beneath the cold black coals of her heart. “I’m gonna help you narrow it down, okay? Otherwise, you’ll never figure it out.” She motioned impatiently with her hand. “Come on, hurry up.” 

Gareth handed her the list and she looked it over for a minute, vaguely amused.  

“Not a very long list,” she said while uncapping her highlighter with her teeth. 

“Well, Eddie’s very picky.” 

As he should be, Gareth thought. That man deserved the best.

(much better than you) 

Matilda snorted under her breath. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.” She rolled her eyes, bent her head, and began marking up the list with her highlighter. Her hand was calm and controlled, each movement deliberate, precise, as to be expected of an advanced test taker. “Okay, she has a boyfriend… she, I’m pretty sure, has a girlfriend… boyfriend… boyfriend… boyfriend… she’s been out of town for a funeral… and she… doesn’t even live in this state anymore.”

She crossed off the last name and slid the paper across the table. 

Gareth gaped at it, speechless. “You just eliminated everyone.” 

Matilda shrugged. “Like I said, not a long list.” 

It was a major setback, the kind of setback that made you want to tear the whole thing to pieces, cut your losses, and give up. Gareth seriously considered it. He almost did it while sitting in his second-period class. 

But then an angel appeared. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed angel named Olivia Kent.

She peered over his shoulder during class. “Whatcha doin’?” she asked, sitting with her chin on her palm. 

Gareth considered lying, saying he was working on his assignment or something, but in his current state, he didn’t have the heart to deceive anyone, especially not Olivia, who was so innocent and kind.

“I’m trying to figure out who my friend went home with after prom.” 

“Oh? Who’s your friend?”

“Eddie Munson.” 

“Oh…” Olivia giggled a silly, unaffected giggle. “Yeah, he had quite the night.” 

Gareth turned around in his seat. “You were at prom, Livvy?” 

“Mhm! It was a lotta fun.” 

“And you saw Eddie there?”

“Sure. I saw him lots of times.” 

“Did you see him leave with anybody?”

“Sure did… I saw everything.” 

“You saw everything?” Gareth sat back, awestruck, and felt tears come to his eyes. This was it. This was finallyit. This was the breakthrough that Gareth had been waiting for. An eyewitness—a star witness—had emerged at last, willing and eager to cooperate. “Oh, Livvy, you beautiful, beautiful, heavenly creature, tell me everything.” 

“About what?”

“About prom, Livvy.” 

“Oh, you wanna hear about prom?” Olivia shrugged, smiled, and said, “Okay! Philip Cuthbert asked me. I didn’t think he was going to, but then he totally surprised me! I wore a frilly pink dress and matching pink heels. Phillip wore a dark blue tux and a black bowtie. I think it was black, but it might’ve been blue, too. Then Philip got me one of those really pretty flower bracelets… What are those called again? Oh, right, corsages! Anyway, we took pictures on the front lawn of my house, then we took pictures at his house, and then we took more pictures in front of City Hall. I don’t normally like taking so many pictures, but I didn’t mind so much in this case. It was a special occasion. Phillip said I looked very pretty. He was really nice to me all night. He held my hand. He bought me dinner. He got me some cake. I actually ate two slices of cake that night, but don’t tell anybody, okay? I was only supposed to have one. And then we danced and drank punch and we danced again—”

Gareth put his hand on top of hers, making Olivia blush and look at him in doe-eyed wonderment. “Livvy, I’m glad you had such a fun time at prom, but since class is gonna be ending soon, do you think you could speed things up and get to the part where you saw Eddie? Is that okay?”

“Sure,” Olivia said, smiling. “I saw him talking to Chrissy.” 

“Yeah, he went there to ask her to dance. I told him it was a terrible idea, but he refused to listen to me.” 

“Yeah, that was a bad idea. Why would he do that?” 

“Because Eddie’s a hopeless romantic.” 

“Really?” Olivia frowned, considering it. “He doesn’t seem like one.” 

“He hides it behind a mask of cynicism, and he hides it very well.” 

“Oh,” Livvy said, mystified by the concept. “Well, I guess that explains why he got up on stage then.”

“Wait, Eddie got up on stage?” 

Damn, Gareth thought, that’s actually really impressive.

“Mhm! He gave this long speech and everything. My friends said it was really weird and embarrassing, but honestly, I thought it was kinda sweet. Super embarrassing, but sweet. It was kind of like a… hmm… well, I guess you could call it a love confession. I don’t remember what he said exactly, but it was really adorable, and normally I wouldn’t use that word to describe Eddie—you know, ‘cause he’s so mean and scary-looking—but at that moment, he really was adorable. Kinda like a puppy. And then he played Journey and—” 

Gareth’s head rocked back. “He played Journey? Eddie played Journey? Eddie doesn’t like Journey. Nobody likes Journey. Nobody except…” 

(you)

Gareth’s eyes widened. His stomach plummeted to the floor. Then he shook his head and the thought was gone. 

“Okay, maybe it’s just a coincidence,” he said. “Maybe the DJ suggested Journey. Do you remember what song it was, Livvy?” 

“No, I don’t. Sorry, I’m not very good with song titles.” 

“Was it ‘Separate Ways’? ‘Any Way You Want It’? ‘Don’t Stop Believin’’? ‘Faithfully’? ‘Open Arms’?” 

“You know, for someone who doesn’t like Journey, you sure know a lot of Journey songs.” 

And for someone who seemed like such an airhead, Olivia Kent was shockingly observant. Gareth was rather impressed. He couldn’t help but tip his head to her. Touché, fair lady.

“I think it was the last one,” Olivia said. 

“‘Open Arms’?” 

“I think so.” 

“So Eddie played a sappy love song,” Gareth concluded while rubbing his chin. “Makes sense.” 

“Mhm… and it must’ve worked ‘cause she left with him right after.” 

“You saw the girl who left with him?”  

“Yep.” 

“You saw her face?”

“Of course I did. She walked right past me.” 

“And did you recognize her?”

“Uh-huh!” 

“YES!” Gareth pumped his fists excitedly. He almost leaped out of his chair and kissed her, he was so happy. “Who was it, Livvy? Tell me who it was!”

Olivia sighed. “I don’t remember.” 

“What?” Gareth’s heart shattered. “But you just said you recognized her.”

“I did recognize her face, but I don’t remember her name… Sorry, Gareth, I’m not very good with names.” 

“You’re not good with names,” Gareth repeated softly, beside himself. “She’s not good with names. She’s not good with names. My star witness isn’t good with names.” 

He laughed madly to himself, feeling dizzy and delirious, feeling like the whole room was spinning like a turntable. A turntable playing Journey. Journey! Of all the bands in the world, Eddie, why Journey? Why? Why?

Meanwhile, Olivia rested her cheek against her palm and smiled at him. “You have really pretty eyes. Do you want my number?”  

Gareth paused, considering it. His face turned bright red. 

“Yes, Livvy. Yes, I’d love to get your number.” 

“Cool!” She scribbled it on a piece of notebook paper and handed it to him. “Call me sometime, okay?” 

So now Gareth was strolling away from his third-period class with a laminated hall pass in hand, Olivia Kent’s phone number in his pocket, a massive pit in his stomach, and Steve Perry’s annoying voice in his head. 

Journey. 

Eddie had requested Journey.  

It wasn’t a coincidence, was it? 

Gareth walked past Mr. Prichard’s math class, stopped, and backpedaled a few paces. He pressed his face against the glass and peered inside. 

Eddie was sitting at his desk with his assignment out and textbook open in front of him. He had his pencil in his hand, but he had yet to write a single answer. He was just tapping it against his notebook while he stared absently at the chalkboard, stared with a faraway look in his eyes. Gareth knew that look. It meant Eddie was lost in thought, usually about D&D or whatever new song he was learning, but today Gareth had a sneaking suspicion that Eddie was thinking about something else—or rather someone else. 

But not you. Please, God, not you. 

You were sitting behind him and quietly working on your assignment, just working on your assignment, and that caught Gareth a little off guard. If you had gone home with Eddie (as Gareth begrudgingly suspected now), shouldn’t you have been acting a little… happy? excited? Shouldn’t you have been staring at the back of his head with a dumb, lovesick expression? Daydreaming and doodling about him in your notebook? Naming your future children and planning your destination wedding?

Gareth expected to feel something when he peeked into that classroom. A change in energy. A shift in the natural balance of the universe. Call it whatever you want, but there should have been a noticeable difference in the air, right? Right?  

But there wasn’t.

Everything was totally normal. 

You and Eddie were acting totally normal. 

And that filled Gareth with an exhilarating sense of relief. 

It wasn’t you. Thank God, it wasn’t you. 

Gareth backed away with a smile. If he had stayed a minute longer, he would have seen the exact change in energy he had been waiting for. If he had stayed a minute longer, he would have seen Eddie turn around and start talking to you. He would have seen you smile and blush and tell him to go back to his assignment (even though you didn’t really want him to go back to his assignment). Then he would have seen Eddie turn back to the front, try to do his work, give up, and turn around again five minutes later. 

But Gareth didn’t stay. Instead, he continued down the hallway in blissful ignorance, pulled out his list, ripped it up, and tossed the pieces into the trash. 

If it wasn’t any of them and it wasn’t you, there was only one logical conclusion. 

“She doesn’t go to school here, does she?”

Gareth forced this treasonous charge onto Eddie as soon as he arrived at the cafeteria. He had found his target sitting at his usual place at the head of the table. The seat of high honor. Eddie’s chair. The king’s chair. Gareth, a once-honorable and faithful soldier, slammed down his tray, leaned forward, pressed his palms into the table, and looked Eddie Munson square in the eye. Unblinking. Unflinching. Unyielding against his Dungeon Master’s powerful, intimidating aura.  

A moment of tense silence passed. Jeff and Grant looked at each other and immediately stopped eating. Jeff put down his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Grant screwed on the lid of his soup thermos and set the container aside. There was no telling how long this would take. Gareth had a talent for prolonging his inevitable demise. It was like watching a slow hanging. 

Oh, but what a show it would be. 

“Who is she, Eddie?” Gareth thrust out his finger accusingly. “Huh? Is she a teacher? A townie? Some drunk chick you picked up at the bar while drowning your pathetic sorrows away?” 

“Yikes,” Jeff said, cringing. 

And Grant said, “That is quite the allegation.”  

Indeed it was, and Eddie didn’t seem to appreciate the open assault on his character. His brown eyes sharpened into a steely glare. They reflected Gareth’s destruction like a black crystal ball. Doom. Doom. Doom. 

“Get your finger outta my face,” Eddie said, and that was all he needed to say.  

“I’m so sorry,” Gareth said, and fell back into his chair with a thump. His heart thudded in his chest while the color slowly returned to his face. That was as close to death as Gareth had ever come. It was a miracle he’d survived. He bent his head and capitulated: “I sincerely apologize for my previous statement. It was malicious and rude, completely unbecoming of my position.”

Grant squinted his eyes curiously. “And what is your position, exactly?” 

“I’m Eddie’s best friend, obviously.” 

“Obviously,” Jeff echoed, snickering. 

Grant, wryly amused, said, “Uhh, I’m pretty sure Scottie’s his best friend.” 

Eddie, having dropped his tyrannous facade, was pretending to listen while absentmindedly picking through his snack bag, his thoughts elsewhere, eyes elsewhere. But where, Gareth couldn’t say. He had strained his neck to see who Eddie was looking at, but it was impossible to tell with so many people in the cafeteria. He could have been looking at anyone, anyone, anyone except you.

“He’s right,” Eddie murmured. “Scottie’s my best friend.” 

Gareth shrugged, unconcerned with such trivial technicalities. “Well, then I’m your second best friend, Eddie, and since Scottie’s in prison right now, I have to step in and assume the role in his stead.” 

“Ah, the interim best friend. So that’s the imaginary position you gave yourself.” 

“Oh, shut up and eat your soup, Grant.” 

“I will eat my soup,” Grant said, “and I’ll enjoy it while you continue to embarrass yourself.” 

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” Gareth grumbled nonsensically. He stabbed a piece of broccoli with his fork, stuffed it into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. It tasted like dirt. “I’m having a really horrible day.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Eddie said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Mine’s actually going pretty well.”

Another cryptic response. Gareth simply couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know,” Jeff began, “speaking of Scottie—” 

Gareth flung down his fork angrily, sending a spear of broccoli whizzing past Grant’s left shoulder. 

“Oh, come on, just tell me who it is already! Enough with the hints and the coded language. I swear to God, you’re driving me crazy, Eddie! You’ve been torturing me for days with this mystery. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t think about anything else. As your friend, I’m begging you to stop. Please, for my sanity, stop.” 

Eddie popped a pretzel into his mouth and chewed. “I’ve been torturing you?”

Grant said, “He’s been torturing himself, honestly.” 

Jeff nodded, seeming on the verge of laughter. “Yeah, he made a list and everything.”

Eddie grimaced. “Wait, there’s a list? Why is there a list?” 

“Because you’ve driven me to madness, Eddie!” Gareth blurted out in blind white rage. “I hope you’re happy because you’ve driven me to complete madness! Who were you with on Saturday? Don’t even try to deny it because I heard a girl talking in the background. It wasn’t the TV. It was a girl. A living, breathing girl. I know you were with her that night, and I know you were with her yesterday.” 

“I wasn’t with her yesterday,” Eddie replied, his eyelids heavy with annoyance. “I already told you, I was out running errands.” 

“Oh, you’re sticking with that story, huh? Okay, Eddie, let’s assume you were out running errands. Let’s assume you spent your whole Sunday exactly as you said. You got up bright and early, stopped by the drugstore for God knows what, and then spent the rest of the day by yourself at home, cleaning out your van.” 

“I did clean out my van yesterday. That’s how I found my lost W.A.S.P. tape.”  

“Oh, which album?” Grant asked. 

“The Last Command,” Eddie answered, a soft smile touching his face. 

Wait, was that another clue?

“Nice,” Grant said. “That’s a solid album.” 

Eddie nodded, agreeing, but now there was a distant glimmer in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Gareth couldn’t take his eyes off it. It was as if his friend was lost in a cherished memory. 

What significance did this W.A.S.P. tape hold?

Was there any significance? 

These questions twisted Gareth’s mind into a pretzel. 

And speaking of pretzels, Eddie had set down his snack bag and stopped eating. Weird. He now sat with his arms folded over his chest, fingers drumming impatiently against his right bicep. His wandering eyes kept going back to the clock. Counting down the minutes. What had him so restless all of a sudden? What was he waiting for? His next class? English? Was that significant? Eddie hated English. He dreaded English. He complained about it every day because it meant he had to see— 

Eddie pushed off the table and stood up. Gareth climbed up from his chair, too. 

“Where are you going, Eddie?” 

“Dude,” Jeff said, looking up at him. “You need to calm down.” 

“Otherwise,” Grant went on, “you might get demoted to third best friend.”

The two of them dissolved into laughter. Gareth didn’t even hear them.  

“It’s happening,” he muttered. “Something’s happening.”

“Yeah, you annoyed Eddie so much that he had to leave to get away from you.” 

But that wasn’t it. Eddie wasn’t fleeing for the exit like a coward. No, he was marching straight through the middle of the cafeteria like a lone soldier charging through the battlefield. Charging to victory or to death. He was infiltrating the enemy’s stronghold, impervious to their hostile glares and raised eyebrows. Even Jason Carver himself, who had begun to get out of his chair, could not stop him today. Eddie was a man determined, a man determined to get to

(of course)

you. 

He wedged himself between two basketball players, pushed his palms into the table, and greeted you with a charming smile. You gazed up at him in sweet surprise. 

“Hi,” you said. 

“Hi,” he said back. “You wanna skip next period?”

Chrissy’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god,” she said while you blushed, buried your face in your hands, and giggled. 

Gareth, dumbstruck, slumped back into his chair with the bitter taste of defeat in his mouth. 

That bitch, he thought. That Journey-loving bitch, she actually did it.

Grant regarded him with an impressed frown. “You know, you’re handling this a lot better than I thought you would. When did you figure it out?” 

Gareth sighed. “Second period.” 

Eddie just had to play Journey.

There was a moment of solemn silence after that. Then Grant unscrewed his soup thermos and lunch resumed as usual. Jeff took a bite of his sandwich. Gareth, now resigned to his grim fate, stuck his fork into his meatloaf and cut himself a modest slice. The meat looked dry and grey. What a horrible new world he lived in. 

But, he supposed, there was something to look forward to. 

“I got Olivia Kent’s number today. I think I’m gonna ask her out this weekend.”

SERIES MASTERPOST

FANFICTION MASTERLIST

unfortunately, i no longer do taglists. if you want to stay updated on my fics, you can follow me and/or subscribe to my posts. thank you!

[dc-comics-enjoyer]

Good Dad™ Bruce headcanons (part 1) :

(because we deserve it and need to heal)

Cass and Bruce connect a lot through shared meditation sessions. Just silently and calmly existing with each other.

Bruce often unwinds by playing the piano alone in the Wayne Manor music room. One evening, Steph heard him and joined in with a guitar she found there. Bruce didn't mind. Since then, whenever he starts playing, Steph often grabs an instrument, turning his solo sessions into lively jam sessions.

Bruce has a habit of calling Dick under the guise of needing his advice on a case. Once they’ve discussed the "urgent" matter, Bruce smoothly transitions to the real conversation to get updates on what's been going on in Dick's life :

"What happened with that noisy neighbor of yours ?"/"Did you find those jeans you were looking for ?"/"How was your date ?"/"How's the shoulder ?"/"Did you get the plumbing issue fixed ?"

Every time Bruce can spend time with Damian, he would introduce him to different strategy board games from around the world. They'd play chess, of course, but they would also play Go, Checkers, Mancala, Backgammon, Mahjong, Barjees, etc.

When they're confronting a bigger threat than usual, Bruce would make sure to leave tiny personalized notes in their utility belts. For Dick, he'd just shove it in his hand while walking past him :

To Dick : "Trust your instincts. You've got this. – Bruce"

To Jason : "Remember your training. I'm proud of you. – Bruce"

To Tim : "Your mind is your greatest weapon. Stay sharp. – Bruce"

To Damian : [in arabic] "You are stronger than you know. Stay focused. – Your father"

To Steph : "Believe in yourself as I believe in you. – Bruce"

To Cass : "Your skills are unmatched. Stay confident. – Bruce"

To Duke : "Your determination inspires us all. Keep it up. – Bruce"

When he was 13, Jason mentioned once how much he liked banana-flavored protein bars. Since then, Bruce always made sure to have some in the batcave. He never stopped, even when Jason was no longer around. It was a small but meaningful way for Bruce to keep a piece of Jason's memory alive. When Jason eventually returned, he was stunned to find the familiar protein bars still stocked, knowing no one else liked them that much.

Duke is a cinephile, so in his free time he loves watching movies. Bruce sneaked next to him in the manor's home cinema once. Since then, they created this unspoken tradition of watching classic movies together whenever their free time coincides.

To show his support after Tim’s coming out, Bruce discreetly hung small bisexual pride flags in multiple places : one in the Batcave, right next to the monitors where Tim often worked, one in the Batmobile on the rear mirror, one placed next to the family picture in Bruce’s room, and one on the training room's wall. It showed Bruce's acceptance and support in a way that blended seamlessly into their everyday life. It made Tim feel seen and valued.

-------------

(here's part 2)

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you do a fluff hurt/comfort dad Jason’s 4 year old daughter has a nightmare and Jason is there to comfort her?.

‘Kira is defiantly your child.’ You said as Jason brought you into his chest after you had made yourself comfortable, kissing the top of your head, smiling sleepily. ‘Oh yeah? I wouldn’t have guessed.’ He replied sarcastically and so you bit his bicep in retaliation, causing Jason to jolt in surprise. ‘Ow! What was that for you bitty little shit?’ He cried out, looking down at the bite mark you left on him. It wasn’t deep but it was evident that you did indeed bite him.

‘Watch your mouth, Kira is in the other room! She could hear you!’ You hissed, not wanting Jason’s crudeness and fondness for profanities to rub off on your daughter but if the way she acted before you tucked her into bed was anything to go off by, she was already on her way of being a miniature version of her father in every sense of the word.

Jason raised his brows at you. ‘Says the one who just insinuated that she’s already just like me, so what’s a bit of swearing going to do?’

‘Jason.’ You warned and he immediately backs off, knowing when to stop while he’s ahead.

‘Alright, alright I’m sorry chipmunk, I didn’t mean to be a right dickhead.’ Jason apologised and kissed your forehead but before you could scold him again, the door to yours and Jason’s bedroom burst open as Kira’s silhouette could be seen from the doorway. ‘Princess?’ Jason called as he and you sat up in bed in tandem, worry taken over as you both got a better look at your sweet little girl, the same sweet girl who’d smile so widely you swore her smile could stretch for miles.

A sniffle is all you or Jason could hear and it immeditly sent you into protective mode.

‘Baby are you okay?’ You asked, feeling your heart break even further for every sniffle that escaped your beautiful baby girl.

Kira looked as though she had been crying from the tear streaks on her cheeks, she was holding onto her plush of RedHood tightly against her as though she was scared to relinquish it’s comfort for anyone. ‘I-had a nightmare.’ She hiccuped as one of her tiny hands rubbed away the tears from her eyes. ‘Come here baby girl.’ Jason said softly as he pulled aside the covers for her, and without hesitation the little girl had burrowed herself between you and Jason, trying to cuddling up to the both of you in search of comfort from her parents she was certain would protect her from the monsters.

‘Your safe sweetheart,’ Jason reassured, picking Kira up and placing her on top of his chest, laying a hand against her back and began rubbing soothing patterns, ‘the monsters won’t get you whilst your with daddy, you wanna know why?’

‘Why?’ Kira asked tiredly, feeling instantly comforted by her father’s warmth. Jason smiled and said ‘because the monsters wouldn’t dare go after you when you daddy’s here, they’re scared of me but I know that they’re also scared of you too peanut.’ He booped her on the nose, making her laugh which lightened your heart. ‘That’s why they’re trying to scare you to hide the fact that they’re absolutely terrified of the powerful Kira Todd.’ Kira raises her head to look at you. ‘Is daddy lying?’ You gasped, raising a hand to your chest. ‘Your father? Lying? Heavens no!’ Kira giggled at your dramatics as Jason silently used his free hand to pull you towards his chest, where you placed a kiss against it and Kira’s forehead and smoothing out her hair. ‘You’re a powerful being princess, the monsters in your nightmare are just jealous and envious of how much of a better person you are.’ You told her.

Kira yawned, struggling to keep her eyes open. ‘I am super strong Kira Todd, like my daddy and monsters fear me because they wish they were me.’ She muttered sleepily as she rested her head back down on Jason’s chest, clutching his sleep shirt tightly in her firsts. ‘So very very strong is my little girl.’ Jason murmured as he pressed a kiss to her head. ‘I’m so proud of her, so very proud.’ You smiled gently at the soft interaction between your daughter and Jason, finding yourself falling in love with him all over again as if you hadn’t already fallen deeply enough the first time. ‘Sweet dreams sweetheart, we’ll join you in there soon.’ You whispered, kissing her forehead as you both watch her yawn one more time before drifting off into a deep slumber.

You were the next to yawn and Jason couldn’t help but laugh as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, holding your head against his chest. ‘Alright I think it’s time that you get some sleep yourself chipmunk.’ He told you but instead of agreeing with him, you decided to be stubborn. ‘No, I’m not…I’m not sleepy yet. Nowhere near..’ you trailed off as sleep began to fog your mind and make your eyelids heavy. ‘Nope, off to sleep with you lovely.’ Jason replied as he began to stroke the back of your neck, knowing it’s the easiest way to get you to relax and go to sleep.

‘Okay.’ You murmur and with a few neck rubs later, you were out like a light against Jason’s chest as he watched over the two most precious people in his life. ‘I love you both, so fucking much that I’d do anything for you both…I hope you both know that because if not I’m not doing enough to prove it as a father.’ He said to no one in particular as he tightened his protective hold on both you and Kira as he soon joined you both in the land of dreams, protecting you both there as he did in reality.

[darkovergrownforestnymph]

I want a Jason Todd x Ballerina fic SOOOO BADDDD. Like I need it. here me out

You are a new dancer at Gotham Ballet so you’re in corp. His eyes are on you. He loves ballet and follows the story but if you’re on stage he will find you no matter what.

He’d be there for you when you move to soloist and he’s so proud of you. He’d take you to your favorite book store to celebrate and eat sushi ( or whatever food you want).

This man may be busy every night but somehow during nutcracker season every night you dance he will be there with flowers after. Like how does he do it.

If you’re in muscle pain he has all the thing. Any and all muscle pain cream, he has the messagers, the rollers, lacrosse balls ( they slay at rolling out muscles like get them NOW!).

He will stretch with you, and first he wasn’t good at it, now he wants to be better than Dick. Like whip out a needle one day in front of him.

Have a break after performances and you get bored. No Worries! Teach Jason ballet!! It’s so silly and fun.

If you feel bad about yourself and your dancing. He’s gonna make you stop immediately. Makes you watch old dance videos and new ones (He’s always recording you dance he loves it!!!) to see how far you’ve come and how much you keep improving. He thinks you’re gonna be a principle and he believes in you enough for the both you of.

Batfam meets you the show you become a principle. It’s announced at the end of the closing show of the season. Dude he looked like when a dad’s football team scores a point. He stood up and screamed ( YEAHHHH THATS MY GIRLLL!!!). Bruce gave him a lil look but he doesn’t care. He had a feeling so he got you the biggest bouquet with little gifts hidden inside. He was so happy for you and now you had to meet Bruce Wayne… sweaty… it’s okay. They were astonished how long you guys have been dating like how’d he do it and why. Jason shrugs and takes you home.

Overall, this man would be so good for a ballerina ( ME) and pleaseeeeee

I think i’m just gonna write it myself.

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake, Son of Green Arrow: A Wild What-If Timeline

Okay, picture this: Tim Drake ends up being adopted by Oliver Queen. Wild, right? But hear me out.

It all starts with Janet Drake. Back in her boarding school days, she was close friends with Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen. As adults, they drifted, but she always trusted them. So, when drawing up a will with Jack, she names Oliver as Tim’s guardian if anything ever happens to them. Why Oliver? He’s got a stable family life with Dinah, and Bruce is still just “Brucie” at this point, with no Dick Grayson or Robin yet in the picture.

Fast forward. Tim’s parents die in a tragic accident, leaving him alone… until Oliver Queen steps in. Tim gets whisked away to Star City, where he finds himself in a home that actually feels like a family. Oliver, Dinah, and Roy include him in their lives in a way his biological parents never did. They’re attentive, warm, and actually there.

Tim’s obsessive interest in Gotham and the Bat still exists, though. Even as he helps the Queens behind the scenes (because, of course, Tim figures out their identities), he keeps an eye on Gotham and Robin. When Jason Todd dies, Tim immediately notices the shift in Batman. He sees how broken Bruce becomes and, unable to ignore it, brings it up to Oliver.

Oliver listens. He pulls some Justice League strings, and they all step in to help Bruce. But even with the intervention, Tim can see Batman isn’t the same. Batman needs Robin.

Tim, being Tim, takes matters into his own hands. He sneaks back to Gotham, tracks down Bruce, and demands to be Robin. Bruce, skeptical but too tired to argue, lets him. Tim starts living a double life—splitting his time between Gotham as Robin and Star City with the Queens, who have no idea what he’s up to. Bruce assumes Tim’s guardian is some guy named Eddie (a lie Tim pulled out of thin air), and Tim’s balancing this precarious act of being a superhero under two noses.

Then comes the reveal.

After the Tower incident, when Jason comes back and beats Tim bloody, Tim limps home to Star City, where he can’t hide the injuries anymore. Oliver and Dinah are horrified. They demand answers, and Tim finally confesses everything. Dinah is livid, Oliver is fuming, and Roy is caught somewhere between “I’m proud of you” and “I want to wring your neck.” Oliver decides he’s going to have a chat with Bruce about endangering his son.

But Tim? He begs them to let him stay as Robin. He swears he’ll stop as soon as someone else steps in, but Gotham needs Robin. Reluctantly, the Queens agree, but now they’re involved. The next time Bruce and Tim are working a case, Oliver is in the Batcave, glaring daggers at Bruce while Dinah insists on debriefing Tim like he’s an adult.

And oh, the dynamics.

Tim is fiercely loyal to both his families. He adores the Queens—they’re the parents he always wanted—but the Bats become like a second family to him. Jason, after getting over the guilt and anger, starts treating Tim like a brother. Meanwhile, Roy and Jason develop this weird rivalry over who’s Tim’s actual favorite sibling.

Roy: “I taught Tim how to shoot a bow. Can you even use a bow?” Jason: “I’m sorry, does the term ‘second Robin’ mean nothing to you? He’s literally following in my footsteps.” Tim: “I like both of you equally!” Tim, internally: It’s definitely Roy.

Bruce? Bruce gets jealous. He watches Tim laugh freely with Oliver or cling to him at the Watchtower, and there’s this pang of something he doesn’t want to admit. Bruce cares about Tim, but Tim’s already got a dad in Oliver, and it shows.

But at the end of the day, both families fiercely love Tim. Whether he’s in Gotham or Star City, he’s surrounded by people who’d do anything for him. And Tim? Tim wouldn’t trade either family for the world.

[whenindoubtfangirlitout]

So seeing people talk about Jason's potential music taste sparked a headcannon in my Jason Todd obsessed brain.

I totally agree that he would have a varied music taste. He could nod along to just about anything:

White girl music? Put on "California Gurls" (reference to this post)

Musical theater? Crank up "Micheal in the Bathroom"

Divorced dad rock? Literally anything by Three Days Grace, especially "I Hate Everything About You" when he's pissed at Bruce, "I Am Machine" or "Animal I Have Become" when he's feeling particularly inhuman, or "Riot" when he's feeling like stirring up shit.

But my main point is that I feel like he'd be hella into the most random unreleased artists. All of which are most likely the street kids he interacts with. He just wants to support them and their interests in the hopes that it helps keep them on the right track.

That one wannabe rapper posts a new song on SoundCloud? Jason's listening to it no matter how off beat the kid may be and will leave a like and comment a thumbs up to make sure they know at least one person is listening.

The aspiring midwest emo band scored a gig at some random dive bar that no minors should be in? Jason's there, front row, for moral support as they play slightly off tune due to nerves. And also to watch out for them as it is rather sketchy.

The musical theater girl got her first role? Jason's helping her run through lines and being her audience as she practices her blocking and choreography. And while he doesn't formally attend the performance, he's watching from the rafters and telling her "good job" the next time he sees her.

I just absolutely love the idea that Jason is basically every street kids' supportive parent and they all want him to be proud of them.

Bonus: Imagine Crime Lord Jason in charge of the Iceberg Lounge just having some random open mic nights before the club officially opens so that the kids have somewhere to play if they aren't able to get a gig anywhere else. He just makes his goons stand around to listen and clap so the kids feel heard and supported.

[adorabluesposts]

Hi!

I saw your post for requests and I was wondering if you would do a fic for Jason Todd? I saw you reposted something for him but if not it’s totally okay!

If yes, could you do a fic where he brings his girlfriend to the manor and everybody questions why she is with him? They are like polar opposites with her being shy and kind compared to his blunt attitude?

This might be a stretch but perhaps Damian’s long lost sister? (I’m a sucker for platonic Damian)

But again if you just reposted that and don’t write for them you can ignore this!

-W.P💚

YES YES OMG WP I LOVE YOU WHATT THANKS FOR REQUESTIONG FOR JASON<333 he's my babygirl 💗. Sorry this took so long I'm a menace to society. Maybe I went a bit too crazy with this.

TW: MENTIONS OF suicide, murder, violence, abuse

It's hard to recall how it happened. It took what felt like years for you to get this close to Jason, but you were proud of your achievement.

Ever since you were a child, your parents taught you what kindness meant. Well, your mother did. Even if it was rough at home, and your father made living a hell, your mother managed to teach you how to treat any scar with kindness and not fight back with violence. And, after he killed her, you almost lost hope. But you just swore to continue finding kindness in anything. For her.

Its just that now you were more closed off.

And your feet were now glued to the ground. You saw the reality of Gotham when your dad killed himself after brutally murdering your mother. Leaving you all alone.

Enter Jason Todd, on a lonely night when you were just walking through the sad streets of Gotham. You had stumbled upon a mugging—a terrified woman cornered by two thugs. You couldn’t just stand idly by.

Your mother's kindness had been your legacy, and you would honor it. But before you could intervene, the Red Hood appeared. He moved with lethal precision, dismantling the criminals without hesitation. You watched, torn between awe and fear. When he turned to leave, you found your voice.

"You're bleeding." You commented, looking at his crimson red suit, which happened to be more red than usual. The guys he just fought didn't hurt him.. it must've been someone else.

"I am fine." Red Hood replied, clutching his side.

Somehow, he ended up on your couch. You weren't that much of a fan of it, considering that your landlord would kick you oit if his property smelled like a crime scene. And you were more than scared to have someone like Jason in your room. But you couldn't just... let him bleed out!

"The way you're patching me up isn't very comforting." He broke the silence. You smiled, but let out a small scoff.

“Comforting?” you laughed. “I’m not here to comfort you. I’m here to prevent my landlord from evicting me because my apartment smells like a crime scene.”

“You’re weird.” Jason tried to sit up, but you push him back down.

“Coming from a guy who wears a red helmet and shoots people,” You retorted. “That’s rich.”

Now you were in front of the Wayne Manor, holding Jason's hand like your life depended on it. Your heart was beating oit of your chest. Jason tried to rub your hand for comfort, but you were still nervous.

Bruce was the one that invited Jason to a monthly dinner. He tried to be closer to Jason, and he would've declined evey time of it wasn't for you begging him to give him a chance.

And this time, you decided to tag along. None of them knew. Except for Alfred, who Jason made sure to alert a few days before the dinner. You were contemplating your decisions, though.

As you both entered the Manor, and politely smiled at Alfred, you felt like your knees would just give out. And Jason now had a frown on his face, as if he hated the place.

You heard commotion from the dining room, with a few people sitting at the table already. We're you late?

"They usually wait a bit for us. But the food isn't ready." Jason whispered into your ear, easing your worries, before he cleated his throat. All heads snapped at him.

A few wanted to greet him, but their voices just got stuck as they saw you. "Hi, Jason." One of them still managed to say.

You recognised Bruce as he got up with a nod and walked over. "Who might you be?"

"She's my girlfriend." Jason placed his arm around your shoulder with a small, but proud, smile.

A few of the boys laughed. One of the girls just gasped with a smile.

"-Jason has a girlfriend?"

"-is it April fools yet?"

"-She's so pretty!"

You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, smiling slightly. "Nice meeting you."

"She sounds so sweet," someone whispered.

Jason grabbed you from Bruce's glare, guiding you to the table as he introduced you to the kids. They all looked at you, watching you closely.

That night, with every word you'd speak, the family would look more concerned, shocked or amused.

Damian finally cleared his throat. "Sorry to say, Jason. But your little girlfriend here will get herself killed."

You raised an eyebrow at that.

"Does she even know?" Tim asked. You assumed he was talking about the whole family's secret lives.

"She does." Jason grumbled. "And she'll be fine."

"Damian's right- she's too.. not you." Dick spoke.

"I think she's perfect!" Stephanie comments, where Cass just shakes her head with a smile, agreeing.

"I-" Jason held your hand underneath the table.

"I think she'll be fine." Bruce spoke up, giving you a nod. "Jason could use someone like her."

"We all could." Tim mumbled

“Smooth talker, that Bruce,” Jason whispered to you.

You rolled your eyes with a soft smile. “Says the guy who once told me he’d sweep me off my feet with a crowbar.”

Jason laughed. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

They didn't take long to warm up after that. They were all still so confused on how you made your way there, but they liked you.

The Manor became like a second home after that, considering how often you'd visit. You would help around, goof or just lay there late at night when some were on patrol.

Damian, on the other hand, took the longest to adjust. Jason didn't try to get you two to warm up, because he didn't really want to. He knew how Damian was.

But you made your way to his heart, too.

Well, he secretly started calling you “Sister” when no one was listening. And it made your heart melt. He always acted nice towards you when his siblings were out of earshot.

Jason knew, though. But he swore not to tease Damiam, just for the sake of him not getting mad at you. ❤️

SJJSJSJSJSJ MY BABYYYYY 💗😭