#Sorry it got a bit angsty

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.

[chimckenns]

honey and guy angst pls

It was nearing holiday season, and Guy and Honey were working overtime for what felt like every single day. Guy is forced to take more shifts as Max’s Pizza was getting more orders, and Honey had to take over another project after their coworker took the week off for a holiday.

By the time Honey got home, Guy was passed out in the bed. And by the time Guy woke up, Honey had already left. Guy wanted to stay awake or at least wake up when Honey got home to talk to them, but he was so drained from standing and working all day.

When was the last time they even saw each other?

On Sunday Guy finally got a small break, with his shift starting in the afternoon instead of the morning, and he took this opportunity to finally see and talk to his Honey again.

He woke up to the sun shining through the blinds. He was pleasantly surprised to feel warmth coming from the spot next to him on the bed, and he wriggled towards it, arms snaking around Honey’s waist and burying his face in the crook of their neck.

“Mmmmf…” He nuzzled into their hair. “Honeyyy…”

He felt them wriggle a little, head tilting ever so slightly in his direction. “Hmm? What time is it?”

“It’s 8am or something, I don’t know.”

“Mmmmmh… lemme sleep.” They rolled away from him and buried their face in the sheets.

Guy let out a gasp, waking up a little more now.

“You’d throw away an opportunity to spend the morning with the love of your life? When we finally have the chance? Come on Honeeeyyy I missed youuuu.” He wriggled closer, arms reaching for them again.

“Please stop. I’m tired. Lemme sleep.” Honey mumbled and avoided his touch again.

Something in Guy snapped, frustration built up from the previous week of fatigue, and without a word he got up and left the bed. He made his way to the kitchen and made breakfast, before leaving for work a little early. He’d make up some excuse and help out with prep today. Not that any of his coworkers would complain about extra hands on deck.

Honey fell back asleep, making the most of their one day off. They vaguely remember Guy saying something that morning, but couldn’t recall what happened. They were dragged into deep slumber, before they were trapped in a nightmare.

Guy had left. Actually left. And they hadn’t even noticed. When was the last time they even talked? When was the last time they ever even saw him? They jolted awake, hand feeling the spot next to them where he usually lies. But it was empty. Cold. Honey sat up and looked around. It was their apartment, but it was as if every trace of Guy had disappeared. His clothes were gone from their closet. His extra pillow and plushie was gone from the bed. His hoodie that was always on the chair in the room was gone.

Or was he ever here?

Honey spiralled and it felt harder to breathe. Their thoughts in their head grew louder and louder until it overwhelmed them, and all they could hear were the same thoughts that used to plague them.

Why would anyone be here? Why would anyone want to be with you anyway? No one likes you, you’re too cold. You’re too mean. You’re too closed off. No one understands you. Why would they even want to. You’re not worth the time.

Time seemed to stop yet also speed up at the same time, and they felt themselves freeze up. Their hands instinctively moved to cover their ears. It was too loud. Yet the house was silent. Their thoughts just kept getting louder, and they shut their eyes, a single tear falling down their cheek. Somewhere along the way they had woken up, but their dreams had blended into reality, and they felt trapped.

Guy came home earlier than he planned as he had started work early. Rosa insisted he rest, and he was too tired to refuse. It had been a while since he got to go home before the night time rush.

He opened the door to find darkness. That’s odd. Honey had their day off today. They could have gone out, but that would be very uncharacteristic of them considering it’s their rare day off.

He shuffled in, putting his bag down and taking off his jacket. He made his way to the bedroom, just in case. Sometimes Honey would nap at odd times of the day, maybe this was one of those moments.

But there they were. Sitting up on the bed with their knees folded up, curling in on themselves. They had their hands over their ears still, and Guy could see dried tear stains on their cheek.

Oh.

Not wanting to scare them, Guy whispered.

“Honey? What’s wrong?”

Honey didn’t seem to hear him. Their eyes were hollow and unfocused, gaze stuck at their feet.

Guy reached for their hands, and gently touched it, gauging their reaction. When Honey didn’t flinch, he held their wrist in his hand and pried it away from their ear. Only then did Honey finally register his presence.

“…Guy?”

“Yeah, it’s me. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t… I-… I thought you left.” Honey looked up at him, their eyes desperately searching for answers in his. Their hands were shaking. Guy had never seen them so small before.

“I did, but I just went to work. You said you wanted to sleep, and I didn’t want to bother you if you weren’t in the mood.” He kept his hands on theirs, hoping it somehow grounded them.

They fell silent. Then they leaned their head on his shoulder, hiding their face.

“I thought you left.” It was barely a whisper.

Guy wrapped his arms around them, and shifted so that they could sit in his lap and he could have his legs on either side of them, holding them properly.

“I’ll never leave you, Honey.” He pressed a kiss to their head.

[today-in-the-bunker]

Today, Castiel finally admits to needing help with something. Slightly embarrassed, the angel pulls Dean aside to ask for his assistance in grooming his wings. They had grown difficult to maintain after they were singed in Hell, but the fall from Heaven had really put the final nail in the coffin. His back will now twinge in pain when he attempts to reach the remaining feathers scattered amongst the further expanses of his wings. Dean immediately agrees to help, attempting to disgiuse his care and concern under a thin veil of (not so) sarcastic flirting and faux annoyance. Cas mentally lets himself melt into the comfort. He thinks he's beginning to understand that touch can be used, not only to attack, but to soothe.

[risetherivermoon]

evan is as crazily obsessed and possessive with barty as he is with him, and i need to see this shown more

once theyre dating evan starts giving everyone who even looks at barty in any kind of way a hard death glare, and barty just goes feral over it, evan will insult someones entire bloodline because they flirt with barty and bartys just giggling and kicking his feet

evan gets jealous and he does it in a way where there's something so clearly wrong but hes just like "what?? really?? its fineeee." (newsflash, it isn't) where as barty will get jealous and he'll just be like: "im jealous, i want to kill that guy"

evan with his arms around bartys shoulders from behind while bartys talking to someone, him trying to explode people with his mind,

because evan has had to watch barty be with people and not see him for so long even though he was right in front of him this entire time that he will lose his mind if thats ruined

[smowyashe]

what if?

what if when ODIN hit Logan was at home?

what if hesh and elias rushed back just to find that the house had been hit and destroyed completely?

what if they think logan is dead and theyre both left broken from the loss of their son and brother?

what if they both put that energy into anger and work harder and faster and riskier?

what if hesh joins the ghosts earlier because of this?

what if they all feel off, like something, or someone, is missing?

what if logan had survived?

what if he ran out of the house when things started going to shit?

what if he went searching for his father and brother desperately but got stuck?

what if he barely survived on his own?

what if he got picked up by a group of survivors?

what if he lived with them, believing his brother and father to be dead until a federation patrol finds them and executes everyone in front of him?

what if hes spared because rorke knew where he was and wanted him alive to trap the ghosts?

what if rorke manipulates logan and makes him believe his brother and father left him on purpose?

what if the ghosts never got a chance to save logan from the federation because they never knew he was alive?

what if?

[spinnysocks]

allies or enemies by the crane wives but it's the outlanders coming to terms with caring about one another, specifically after ushari's death

[areseebee]

Who am I to turn down the chance to get some more writing out of you? 😉

How about a little bit of Jerin with "21. pretty"? Bonus points if it's Erin thinking James is pretty rather than the other way around

ohh i love it! here's a little bit set during katya and erin’s confrontation on the stairs at jenny joyce’s house in 1x04 :

“He attractive boy, Erin,” Katya drawls at the top of Jenny Joyce’s stairs, gesturing wearily. Well, Erin’s fucking weary, too. They’ve had this conversation, like, ten times over the past two days and Erin can only attribute it to Katya’s broken English and maybe a wee bit too much radiation because Katya still doesn’t seem to get it. Obviously James is attractive. That’s really not the point. He’s even a little pretty, if you wanted to put a finer point on it (which Erin isn’t very inclined to do – though it would certainly explain why everyone keeps mistaking him for a girl; he’s just got delicate features, like. And very, very green eyes). Katya is so not the first person to notice, and it’s really starting to make Erin rage the way she pretends she is. Because she’s not; Erin’s one-upped her there, and she’s stopped herself nearly 50 times from saying so just so she can rub it in Katya’s big, dumb, Ukrainian face. But some people have principles, and for some people it doesn’t matter that maybe their best friend’s cousin could be a ride (maybe if he sat up a little straighter and, like, didn’t whinge so much), because, at the end of the day, he’s English. But Katya doesn’t have a care about any of it – not about fraternising with oppressors, or deflowering innocent young men, or chasing what she wants so brazenly without a care for what anyone else thinks. Who just lives like that? Erin really can’t imagine; only criminals, probably. Erin’s retort – “He’s English, Katya” – comes effortlessly because that’s the only really necessary explanation. None of the rest of it matters – not the one little curl that likes to come loose and soft around his ear, or the way he kinda looks like Dexter Fletcher from the side if you squint, or when he’d tried to talk to her about Samuel Beckett after he’d learned she liked his writing, or how he’d looked so content with Katya’s hand in his hair and at his jaw. It doesn’t matter what Erin might ever possibly want or not. That’s just the way it is.

as i was writing this, i was surprised to find that i had already written almost this exact same take - erin thinking about james being pretty - for this prompt (i guess i didn't properly link before!) but it has an entirely different vibe. i'm linking it here for a little extra: pretty, version 1.

cranberries ask game

[pokimoko]

The One-Way Waltz of the Moth and the Wild Flame (and the Incident of the Authorial Intrusion) - A Good Omens Fic

Written by pokimoko

Chapters: 1/1

Word Count: ~25K

Fandom: Good Omens (TV)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Muriel (Good Omens), Crowley & Nina (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens) & Original Character(s)

Characters: Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale (Good Omens), Muriel (Good Omens), Original Characters, (who is technically not an original character but I've got to keep some secrets ;) ), Nina (Good Omens), Background & Cameo Characters

Summary: A story in which Crowley does not prevent forest fires, a radio sends out thoughts and prayers, an angel misuses the emergency contact, the local duck population invents socialism, trees are threatened to varying degrees of success, a waltz is indeed played, and an author considers the nature of tragedies.

Tags: Ineffable Divorce | Aziraphale and Crowley Break Up (Good Omens), Post-Break Up, POV Crowley (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt, He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), They/Them Pronouns for Muriel (Good Omens), Crowley & Muriel Friendship (Good Omens), Angst and Humor, Crowley-centric (Good Omens), Canon Continuation, Post-Season/Series 02, Post-Episode: s02e06 Every Day (Good Omens), Pre-Season/Series 03, No Aziraphale Slander Here but it is also Crowley's POV so expect at least some Thoughts, Angry Crowley (Good Omens), Running Away, Both in the Emotional and Literal Sense, Because You Don't Have to Deal with Your Romantic and Personal Issues in Washington State. Obviously, (incorrect: you very much do), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), (even if he won't admit it), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), (another thing he won't admit), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), They're just being stupid, Not A Fix-It, References to God(s), Romantic Angst, America, United States, Fire Lookout, Remember Only You Can Prevent Forest Fires (Unless You Are Anthony J. Crowley), hey is it healthy to repeatedly relive a past trauma to deal with a breakup? asking for a friend, Scene: The Bookshop Fire (Good Omens), Fire, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Isolation, When You're Trying to Cope Badly in the American Wilderness but People Keep Talking to You, Radio, Inspired by Firewatch (Video Game), Character Study, Crowley and the Woes of Being In a Narrative That Won't Let You Go, (Fleabag voice) This is a Tragedy, But oh? What's this?, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ambiguous/Open Ending

[yandereshingeki]

ive had two fic ideas on the mind so much lately and its a dabi fic & an eren fic.. they’re both dddne but one is significantly worse

[luimagines]

Okay, it's almost 4 am and the creative juices are running high!

Imagine right! The chain land in wild's Era and he's just excited, because they're near hateno and he can introduce some people that he knows to the chain. Of course the chain get curious about the building on the hill and while running towards it also the beach.

After spending some time on the beach and the chain meeting Purah, purah asks wild if he has introduced them to zelda and scolds him when he says he hadn't yet (not his fault for once).

This let wild to finally be able to herd the group to his home (which he brags about that he bought it and renovated it himself). Before he can open the door the chain hears a little laugh behind it.

The door opens to reveal an old lady who is really happy to see wild, but also playfully scolds him for making her wait so long to be introduced to the group. That's when wild does finally introduce her. She's Zelda. The calamity hasn't been kind to her and it sucked out almost all her magic that it made her unable to get her age reversed. She's living her best life though.

Zelda and wild are still really close with each other and openly joke that they're the same age.

Though for the chain it finally, really struck what a tragedy wild's adventure was.

OOOOOooo!!!!

While I fully bet they're the same age and they make light of it all the time, how much are you willing to get that Zelda uses a bunch of older saying on Wild that he has no control over?

"When I was your age-"

"You'll understand when you're older."

"Respect your elders, young man!"

"Age before beauty, sir."

And over all poking (gentle) fun over how young he looks because baby face. <3

[honestmouse20]

Ninjago fics I will, eventually, get around to writing lol

-Lloyd ending up with the Mega Weapon. (maybe a rewrite of an episode or just imaginary season) and the team going from being worried he’ll evaporate from touching it, to tryign to figure out how to finish a battle with a half conscious kid. 

-Lloyd going through being possessed by Morro and All that entails. Plus maybe a fix it cause I didn’t like how he Immediatly had to go and fight. even though it was shown how much being possessed affected him

[frostbite-the-bat]

remembering old fandoms and rps and aus i had and im realizing this isnt the first time an au version of frostbite interacted a lot with someone who at least in text had a quirk that does something to the letter s which is ironic considering their name

[allylikethecat]

also can we get a hint on what the one shot is about 🥹

Wellll I'm going to start off by saying that it's only around 2,000 words and 10/10 not my best work, it is very subpar BUT I am excited to have finished something that wasn't part of a series or a chaptered fic and am therefore going to aggressively and enthusiastically share it on the internet 😂 It's just a little angsty oneshot about Fictional!George taking care of Fictional!Matty during the bad times and I am so sorry for hyping it up so much I know you're just going to be let down I was just excited and am also a little sleep deprived 😭

Thank you for sending in this ask though and I hope you do enjoy it tomorrow!! Thank you so much for reading and for your support! 🥰 I hope you have a fantastic night!

❤️Ally

[rukia-kuchiki-divided]

"Is it selfish to want someone to stay, even if they’d be happier leaving?" Ichigo scratched his cheek before looking up at the clear night sky. "If you care about someone, do you let them go? Or hold on even tighter?"

Unprompted Ask | Always Accepting

The fingers hovering over the soul phone stilled as Rukia registered Ichigo's question. She lifted her gaze, taking in the way he was standing, resolutely not looking at her as he faced the dark sky. Exhaling softly as she slipped the phone silently back into her shihakushō. There was something she couldn't quite name in his reiatsu... some restlessness or tension.

Stepping closer, Rukia crossed her arms loosely at her chest. She gently nudged him with her shoulder, reassuring him physically of her presence for whatever he was thinking.

"It's not selfish to want someone, baka. It becomes selfish when you put your wants above the other person's needs." She tilted her head slightly as she studied his face though his gaze remained averted.

"You should hold those you care about tight, Ichigo. Don't let them go." Her mind shifted back to that memory of Renji at the academy and those feelings of abandonment as he let her go - her only friend and connection in the world.

Her voice was heavy with the memory as she spoke again, her gaze downcast now. "Don't presume to know what someone wants without at least telling them how you feel in their presence and what it would mean for them to leave."

Violet eyes lifted as she nudged his shoulder again with her own. She offered a soft smile, lightening the tone of her voice back to their normal banter. "And if you need help, I'll be here. So don't worry so much. Your friends constantly ask for your presence at school and to hang out. You're plenty popular and won't be left alone."

[vapormage]

you can make fandom posts for a niche game, but Watch Out

[ofbatsandballads]

Based on that little blurb you reblogged can I request the batfamily finding out that Jason has a girlfriend by him rummaging through the stuff in his pockets?

They're like dang dude what do you have in there? and it's all hair ties, lip stick, and a recipe for two 💕

-🍬

oh I love a good “Jason hides his lover from his family only for it to get revealed dramatically” fic and now thanks to you, nonnie, I get to write one!

jason todd x f!reader. warnings include canon typical injuries, sibling violence, and slight hints at the batfam’s more traumatic interactions. this is mostly a good ol’ batfam fic, because reader is only alluded to, but I really like it. sorry I made it angsty for a sec there, I just can’t resist the Dynamics™️.

Jason should’ve known better. Really, he should’ve. Taking on Killer Croc alone? A fool’s mistake, but he was just too stubborn to say yes when Bruce asked if he’d like some backup. So now here he is, loopy in the Batcave after Waylon absolutely rocked his shit.

“‘S not even that bad,” he slurs.

The fact that he trips on his own feet and nearly faceplants before Bruce catches him says otherwise.

“Sure it’s not, Jaylad. Let’s get you to the medbay,” Bruce grumbles, worry creeping into that stone cold exterior.

“I’m fine, old man. Lemme jus’ go home,” Jason whines.

He’s met with a grunt that firmly negates his request.

“You can stay in your room tonight,” Bruce says.

“Not my home. Wanna go home,” Jason mumbles as he drops onto the medbay bed.

If Bruce’s face drops a bit, if guilt and sorrow flash across his eyes? Well, Jason’s too concussed to notice. Bruce just nods and begins to assess any other injuries Croc may have left on him. When he reaches for the collar of the Kevlar top, Jason flinches away from him so hard that he slams into the wall behind him. It’s only when Bruce realizes that he’d brushed his fingers against the scar on Jason’s neck that he understands why. His heart sinks and he can’t even look at his son. His shame doubles when he hears a trademark sigh of disappointment from behind him.

“C’mon, Littlewing. Let’s get all of this off you,” Dick says gently as he pushes past their father.

Jason doesn’t flinch when Dick starts to remove his gear. In fact, the presence of his older brother sets him at ease.

“I told ‘im I had it covered, Dickie. He didn’t fuckin’ listen,” Jason complains.

“Yeah, had it so covered you’re concussed in the family home?” Dick teases.

“What the fuck, Richard?” Jason groans before breaking out into giggles.

“How hard did Waylon hit him?” Dick jokingly asks Bruce.

“There’s no fractures, but the contusions are appearing rapidly. Jason’s lucky that’s all he got.”

Dick stares blankly at Bruce. He goes to open his mouth to retort that he was kidding, then decides it’s not worth his effort. Tim thinks it is, though.

“Wow, for a guy that’s chronically online for vigilante reasons, you still know nothing about the internet,” Tim laughs as he wanders into the medbay and flops down on the bed next to Jason’s.

Bruce ignores the teasing and catalogs all the injuries that are revealed to him as Dick strips away Jason’s tattered gear. There’s plenty of lacerations on his torso and likely some on his back. A few are deeper but nothing they’ll need to call Leslie for.

“Or maybe your jokes just aren’t funny, Timothy” Damian says haughtily as he sits himself next to Jason.

The thirteen-year-old tries to put on a mask of indifference, but it wavers when he spots the gash on the back of Jason’s right shoulder.

“Akhi, in what world did you think apprehending Waylon Jones alone would go well for you?” Damian scolds.

Jason narrows his seafoam eyes at Damian and lowers his voice.

“Ya really wanna talk about apprehending people alone, demon spawn?” he taunts lightly.

Damian’s eyes widen and he drops the subject because no, he actually does not want to talk about that on account of the fact that he tried to bring in Clayface alone two weeks ago and nearly got immortalized as a clay statue until Jason swooped in. The two of them had scrubbed his Robin suit within an inch of its life to try and hide the excursion from Bruce. It worked; only Alfred noticed the faint hint of clay in the threads of the cape and all he’d done was sigh and shake his head.

Jason’s gear is fully removed and his head is starting to clear a bit, wooziness replaced by a hammering pain in his temples. The headache masks any pain he would feel from the stitches being placed in his back, though he also suspects that those are less painful because Damian is doing them.

“Your technique is gettin’ better, y’know?” Jason whispers, the compliment unheard by the other three men bustling around the room.

The hands stitching him up freeze and he can imagine the look of surprise on Damian’s face even without turning around.

“Thank you,” he mutters. “I think it will be useful for future endeavors.”

Jason smiles to himself. He knows the kid wants to be a doctor, and he thinks it’s a damn better fate for him than whatever Bruce or Ra’s could’ve planned. The silence that settles over the medbay is peaceful, only broken by the sound of clacking computer keys or the zipping of evidence bags. Then, like an unholy boom of thunder, comes the voice of Tim Drake.

“What the hell is all this?”

Jason’s head whips to the side and he sees Tim rummaging through the pockets of his tactical pants. He goes to scramble off the bed and feels the harsh pull of thread that was mid-stitch through his skin.

“Mind your fuckin’ business, replacement!” Jason shouts.

He grabs a pillow and chucks it at Tim’s head, but he just ducks and continues to empty Jason’s pockets. The contents that spill out on the sterile tray are…perplexing to say the least. Two lip balms (one tinted red), three scrunchies (one black and two red), a grocery list with the word strawberries and a woman’s name underlined, a recipe for chicken stir fry with enough for two portions, and one single soft chocolate chip cookie lay unexplained in the harsh white light of the medbay.

If looks could kill, Tim Drake would be dead and buried six feet under.

“What part of mind your fuckin’ business did you not get?” Jason growls, glaring daggers at the nineteen-year-old.

“Holy shit, he’s got a fucking girlfriend!” Tim exclaims.

The pillow hits him square in the face this time. All four sets of eyes turn to him with varying emotions. Shock is evident in the forest green of Damian’s gaze, smugness and vindication in the icy blue of Tim’s, panic and guilt in the ocean blue of Dick’s, and some weird mix of sadness and fondness in the gunmetal blue of Bruce’s eyes that Jason doesn’t want to think about for too long. The acrobat quickly moves across the room and sweeps all the belongings off the tray and back into the pockets of the tac pants. He grabs Jason’s gear from Tim and hands it back to its rightful owner, who clutches it to himself protectively.

“Don’t make assumptions, Tim,” Dick says. “Civilians leave stuff on us all the time.”

It’s true. They’ve all come home with someone’s forgotten work badge or piece of jewelry before. The oddest thing was when Bruce had a Hello Kitty keychain stuck to the end of his cape. Jason casts a subtle look of gratitude at Dick for trying to give him plausible deniability. Not that it works. Tim stares not at Dick, but through him with his pale eyes in a way that makes a chill run down the spine of the eldest son.

“You knew already? How?” Tim asks incredulously.

Really, he’s a bit miffed that he hadn’t figured this out already. He has contingency plan files on each member of his family (himself included) and he had not a clue that Jason might be in a relationship.

“Drop. It. Now.” Jason warns.

Tim doesn’t consider it until he sees Jason’s fingers twitching in the direction of the butterfly knife on his belt. He doesn’t need another scar from Jason shanking him. Well, at least not today.

“Fine. Whatever. But if I have to bring Bernard here for Thanksgiving, then you have to bring,” and he pauses to remember and recite the name on the grocery list, “home too.”

He knows he’s pushed it when Jason lunges at him, dragging Damian and a threaded suturing needle behind him. Tim barely jumps out of the way in time to avoid a punch to the jaw.

“Robin! Knock it off!” Bruce barks.

It’s almost comical the way all four of his boys freeze in place. It is slightly less comical the way they all proceed to glare at him.

“Fuck it,” Jason grumbles as he settles back on the bed for Damian to continue stitching his wounds. “Just get these done so I can go home.”

“Home to his girlfriend,” Tim murmurs.

“I will fuckin’ slash your throat again, you second-rate fuck!”

Bruce lets out one long suffering sigh. He doesn’t know you yet (a quiet part of him hopes he may one day be allowed to) but he already feels sorry that you’ve been roped into all of this. He feels even more sorry when the butterfly knife flies past his head and buries itself into the wall inches from Tim’s neck. Really, what is he going to do with these boys?