#Tim just made things more complicated

[roobylavender]

(Really long ask ahead i’m sorry!) I think your thoughts on dick and his similarities vs differences to bruce are so interesting! Personally i’m wondering how much of NTT played an influence on this kind of characterization bc i’ve never fully finished ntt but i read like nearly all the pre-80s batman 1940 issues lol and dick very much was portrayed as more idealistic than bruce in some ways while more no-nonsense (? For lack of better word) in other ways, like when it comes to batman easing up a little on selina for romance reasons LOL. Though ofc dick totally turns into - well, a dick - in team books, as i grow older i find myself far more compelled by a potential story of an 18 yr old who seemed to have the whole weight of the world on his shoulders (by his own perception) and breaking under his own impractically strong sense of duty and sky-high expectations for others, then realizing as he grows older that it doesn’t have to be that way esp after seeing the perspectives of characters like kory, wally, joey, roy, etc. Like personally as someone who never really had a huge interest in NTT anyway, i’m surprised at how desperately people want to hold on to the characterization of dick when he was 18-19 and never letting him grow past that, like it’s so difficult for me to believe that at age 25 he would be the same uptight controlling kid that he was at 19. Maybe i’m biased though bc i was like one of those insufferable INTJ internet stereotypes as a teenager, and while that worldview did bring me achievements i’m proud of like the fact that i’m in med school rn studying what i love, i still know that at age 22 i have changed SO much from when i was 18 and i can’t imagine any reasonably mature or normally-functioning person (let alone someone high-functioning like dick) not doing the same lol. Especially since dick is the kind of person who would literally die if he’s not constantly growing and evolving past his faults bc of his insufferable perfectionism, idk how he’d be willfully blind to the negative effects of his worldview in early NTT and refuse to grow from there. He even has a quote that’s like “i’ve spent years as a student of my own behavior” which i always found highly encouraging bc i know he really does want to improve himself even at his worst. It reminds me of that Marcus Aurelius quote: “if someone can prove me wrong and show me my mistake in any thought or action, i shall gladly change. I seek the truth, which never harmed anyone; the harm is to persist in one’s own self-deception and ignorance.” But what are your thoughts? (Thank you for reading all this 🥹)

oh i absolutely agree! i cannot tell you how many times i think about the person i was a couple years ago and who i am now like i cringe so much omg.. maturity is an ever persistent process even if we don't recognize its effects immediately and it absolutely is crazy to think that anyone would remain in such a static state of mind for several years on end. esp when like you said dick is someone who wants to be better! so despite his several hypocrisies it is nonetheless in his best interests to look internally and analyze and evolve. and i feel like that very much could have happened had there been any actual segue between dick's breakup with kory and his re-entry into the batfam. i don't think there was much of a connection between these two sets of writers at all and so what you got is what felt like two very distinct parts of dick's life that didn't necessarily reveal a bridge point. so it's not entirely unrealistic that dick may grow to be the person (at least to some extent) that bat canon portrayed him to be in the years that followed but i certainly think as it stands it felt unearned and like all of his issues explored in ntt were conveniently swept to the side without any semblance of closure (albeit i do think some of these issues are addressed in outsiders '03 but in that dickheaded way that winick explores things generally. so i'm not sure it's the kind of closure people actually want). it's very sad and ig that's what people cling to more than anything. it's not that they're opposed to him growing to be a better person but that they're opposed to a version of dick who feels like he sprung out of nothing

[kalloway]

Hello!

Will you ever possibly go back to write part 1 dio x reader fics? I remember back then I used to thrive off of reading your fics with part 1 dio, especially the one called “midnight meeting with a manticore” ( I think it was called like that). I know you said previously you’re not sure about writing more Jjba fics as you are focusing on something else. If not, I just wanted to let you know that your writing is phenomenal. Especially the way you manage to create an atmospheric feeling in your stories as well as being able to bring tension in random moments (such as in midnight meeting with a manticore). Overall, you are really an intelligent writer xoxo.

Hey, Anon! I kept this in my inbox/email for a *while* partly because I didn't know what to say but partly because I just wanted to keep it and read it for when I pulled myself out of a depressive slump at last (and thus be able to actually interpret it properly), so I apologize for the delay! I have a few Part 1 related fics on the backburner and have for aaages I'd love to go back to, but I would really have to rebuild my confidence with writing again to manage it I think? I actually had an alt rewrite/variation for Midnight Meetings with a Manticore in the early stages a few months back i think, but didn't commit... but part of me still wants to go all-in on self-indulgence and do it anyway hahaha in terms of x readers, I'd have to sit and look thru my files to even know what I had ideas for ngl... it's been *that* long I was focused on other things for a while but... really dragged myself down about writing in general so it's been very unproductive... but that doesn't mean I still don't want to write! It just is extremely difficult to bring myself to work on things atm. I hope I can warm back up to it though! There's a LOT of JJBA related stuff (not just Part 1) I have half-started I could go back to as well... heh >:) But I digress. I really, really appreciate the time you took to send me this - the compliment really made my day when I first saw it in my email and it still makes me so happy/encouraged to read now! The fact anyone remembers my fics or thinks they're notable in any capacity and enjoys them is jhgfdjfhd so flattering, tysm! <3

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Hit The Gas

[Written to 'Renegade (We Never Run)' from Arcane]

Technically speaking, Mr. Masters, Gotham's new aspiring crime lord, did provide them with a getaway car. It's just that, in Tim's honest, objective opinion, said car sucks major ass.

First of all, it's white, which is, well, not the best color for disappearing into the night. Then, it's old — not vintage old, thank fuck, but definitely made before 2005 — and long overdue for a makeover. Tim doesn't see a single part of it that doesn't have a scratch or a dent on it, and are those bullet holes on the passenger door?

Eh, whatever, this is a staged escape anyway. Tim doesn't need it to be successful, he only needs an alibi. Someone — their driver, in this case — to later tell Masters that Alvin Draper did everything he could to keep the package safe. So he can stay in the man's moderately good graces even after they get caught by Batman tonight.

Tim makes it to the car first, throws the back door open and slides inside in one motion, slamming it behind him. Jason, the drama queen, jumps in through the open window and into the front passenger seat.

"Hit the gas, they are on our heels!" He yells at the driver, struggling to turn himself over and put his ass in the seat. Serves him right, opening the door and getting in the normal way would have taken literally two seconds.

The car jolts into movement without a moment of hesitation — so at least the driver has a good reaction time — but Tim still hears a dull sound of a betarang hitting the rear end of it. Nice throw, Cass!

It's only then that he cares to actually look around and realize a few things. A few, arguably, very important things. Like the fact that their driver is a redhead girl who looks barely sixteen. Or that there are two kids, looking no older than ten, in the back seat beside him.

He blinks and stares. The kids — both boys, one of them white as milk with a dark mop of hair and the other one black, wearing glasses and a red beanie — pay no mind to either him, Jason in the front seat, or the speed the car is going at. In fact, they pay no attention to the outside world as a whole, hunched over an outdated PSP. They are playing it together, one of the kids in charge of action buttons and the other one controlling the D-pad, so Tim can understand the need to focus: it takes some impressive teamwork to sucessfully go through the game like that. And they are using some complicated combos while at it, wow.

Wait, no, this is such a wrong time to marvel at videogame skills! They are kids, in a car, in a getaway car, in the middle of a car chase with the fucking Batman!

They take a sharp turn, and Tim grabs onto the handle in order to not bump into the door.

"Oh, you didn't tell me we're racing with the Batmobile," the redhead girl says, but it sounds surprisingly nice and polite, like she's merely asking about the weather.

"Yeah, well, we didn't expect that kind of trouble either," Jason snaps back, scrunching his nose, but the girl just laughs softly.

"No, don't worry. It's no trouble," she assures almost gently, and then reaches one hand behind the seat without looking, tapping the black boy on the knee, "Tucker, sweetheart, switch with me?"

Hold on, what?..

"But Ja-a-azz," the white boy whines.

"We've just got to the boss fight," Tucker pouts, but the redhead just taps his knee more insistently.

"And I'm sure you'll get to it again after we make it out," she says, still perfectly polite and collected. Tim glances out the window. Either this girl has nerves of steel or there's something very wrong with both her and the kids; they are going at least 95 mph, and she keeps only one hand on the wheel like it's nothing.

"Ugh, fine," the kid rolls his eyes and nudges his friend in the shoulder, passing him the console, "Save it, I'll get the cord."

"What cord?" Tim asks because he thought this was a simple undercover mission, but now he gets a sneaking suspicion there's a lot more to it than it looked.

Tucker, with one hand under the driver's seat and searching for something blindly, turns to glare at him.

"The control-cord," he answers like the dumb one here is Tim, "How else do you think- A-ha!" His face lights up as he emerges victorious from under the seat, holding... Yeah, a cord, okay. Which he plugs into the PSP that the other boy hands him without prompting.

"Maybe fasten your seat belts, this is about to get interesting," Jazz offers, but doesn't do so herself. Neither of the kids do it either, and Jason just snorts dismissively.

"You're saying it wasn't 'interesting' before?" There's definitely some teasing in his voice. Tim looks down to the package in his lap, a metal box holding some unknown but evidently very important content.

He fastens his seat belt just in time. The car jerks and speeds up — they are definitely past 110 now. And Jazz is not holding the wheel.

It only takes a moment for Tim to connect the dots and look to the PSP in Tucker's hands. Sure enough, instead of a game, his screen is now a perfect replica of the car's windshield in real time, and his fingers are firmly placed on controls. Like he's done it hundreds of times.

They are racing the Batmobile, and a ten-year-old is driving. This mission is fucking wild.

"Brakes, brakes, BRAKES!" Jason yells from the front, and Tim only gets a moment to notice the quickly approaching back of a truck in front of them and realize they are going to crash before their car just goes through it with no resistance. He even looks in the back window to make sure he didn't hallucinate the truck, but no, it's still there and still real.

Did they... Phase through it?..

"What the fuck," he mutters under his breath.

"Language, there are kids in the car," Jazz chides him with a huff of laughter, and then there's a click.

"What the f- fudge," Jason repeats the question, albeit much louder and way more alarmed than Tim before.

When he turns back around, the redhead is holding a grenade launcher. It doesn't look like a model Tim is familiar with, but it's for some reason painted white, just like their car. Is that some kind of Masters' thing?

Wait, that's a grenade launcher.

Jazz ties her hair in the back in less than two seconds and then reaches up to the roof of the car, pressing a button to open the sunroof.

"Wait, you can't shoot a vigilante, they'll-" Tim yells over the wind, but Jazz just smiles at him and stands up on the driver's seat, peeking out and taking position. Tim throws a panicked look at Jason — they sure didn't plan for anything like this. The car chase was supposed to be over in less than a few minutes, none of them thought that Masters, a fairly new figure in the Gotham underground, would have a kind of vehicle that can phase through things and drive at- at 150 mph through the city roads! Not to mention some strange fucking kids and a teenage with grenades!

"She won't kill anyone," a voice comes from Tim's side, and when he turns his head, he finds the other kid, the one he doesn't know the name of, looking at him, his eyes calm and unblinking. And slightly glowing, okay, and here he was, thinking this clusterfuck of a ride can't get any weirder.

"How do you know?" Tim snaps because there's only so much he can deal with at once in the span of five minutes. The kid shrugs.

"It's Jazz. She has morals," he says, like the word disgusts him, and Tucker huffs a laugh.

"You have them, too. Vlad and Dan killed people before, though," he argues, his eyes still glued to the screen of the PSP.

"Not in Gotham," his friend adds, seemingly just for the sake of having the last word in the argument.

Whatever Tim wants to say back gets cut off by a sound of a gunshot. He turns to the back window again, his heart stuck in his throat, but it looks like the white kid was right: the roaring Batmobile is still on their heels. Whatever the redhead tried to do, she missed.

"Danny, on three!" Jazz yells from above, and the kid springs to action like he's been waiting for this moment his whole life.

"One!"

Tucker moves out of the way as Danny climbs over him and towards Tim, unceremoniously shoves the precious metal box away and all but falls into Tim's lap despite his loud yet wordless sounds of protest.

"Two!"

The boy yanks the latch and throws the door open, leaning down while still sprawled over Tim's knees, and Tim grabs the back of his shirt out of reflex. It doesn't matter that the whole thing is a disaster, he's not letting a ten-year-old fall out of the car on his watch.

"Three!"

There's a loud pop somewhere behind them, and the car suddenly turns and drifts sideways, the sound of skidding tires grating on Tim's ears. Yet, he still feels Danny move and sees him reach and touch the ground. There's a short moment of panic — at this kind of speed, the pavement will shave the skin off the boy's hands in seconds — but then there's a shimmer of white bursting from Danny's palms.

When Tim looks up, the road behind them is covered in ice, the smooth surface of it shining in the yellow light of streetlamps. And, a bit further, there's a thick layer of smoke that should definitely hide them from the view of pursuers.

Smoke grenades. And ice powers. That explains the glowing eyes, Danny must be a meta.

The car shifts again, changing directions, and Tim, almost like in slow-mo, sees the metal box that they've gone to such great lengths to steal, slide towards the open door and tip over the edge.

He is still holding Danny's shirt, and the boy is still hanging halfway out of the car.

The seat belt is pressing tightly into his chest.

The box falls out, and Tim shuts his eyes close. Fuck it, he can fail the mission, it's not the end of the world, Jason can still try and weasel his way into Masters' close circle, and Bruce would understand if Tim explains why quickly enough, it's okay, no big deal-

"Gotcha!" Danny yells cheerfully as the car makes a sharp turn and comes to a halt all of a sudden.

Tim opens his eyes.

Danny, a wide, wicked grin on his face, is holding the box in his hands.

"You're a little shit," Tim breathes out, and the boy laughs, wiggling on Tim's lap and trying to get back inside the car.

"Born and raised," he answers with such a shit-eating expression on his face that Tim doesn't even bother holding back his urge for petty revenge. He releases his death grip on the back of Danny's shirt and gleefully watches the brat lose his balance and faceplant the ground.

The 'quick' undercover mission is sure getting an extension, but somehow, he can't bring himself to feel bad about the fact.

[zhelin-thames]

Bruce has another kid........but this one is not adopted #2

Danny lounged on the couch in the Batcave, his feet propped up as he casually flipped through some of Bruce’s files. Damian stood nearby, arms crossed, scowling.

“It doesn’t matter,” Damian huffed. “I am Father’s heir. It is my birthright.”

Danny smirked, glancing at him over the top of the tablet. “Hate to break it to you, little bro, but I’m older. By all of three minutes, but hey, it still counts.”

“You have no proof,” Damian snapped, his voice sharp.

“Actually,” Tim interjected, walking in with a file in hand, “it’s right here. Clockwork dropped the records off yesterday. Danny’s technically the firstborn.”

Damian’s face twisted into a mix of shock and outrage. “This is preposterous! I trained for years in the League to be the heir. He—” Damian gestured at Danny, who was now grinning smugly, “—is a half-ghost nomad raised by peasants!”

“Whoa, peasants?” Danny said, holding up his hands. “I’ll have you know I was raised by two highly educated ghost hunters who built portals to alternate dimensions in their basement. So technically, I was raised by nerds.”

Jason, leaning against the wall, barked out a laugh. “This just keeps getting better.”

Things escalated when Danielle made her debut in Gotham. She’d been causing a bit of chaos in Amity Park, and Danny figured bringing her to the Manor might help her channel her energy.

When Dani strutted into the Batcave, grinning like a gremlin with her wild energy, the reactions were... mixed.

“She’s my clone,” Danny explained, his tone casual. “But I kinda see her more like a daughter.”

“Daughter?” Damian repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “You... have a daughter?”

Dani, ever the instigator, threw her arms around Danny’s waist. “Yup! My Dad’s the best!” she chirped, shooting a cheeky grin at Damian. “He’s way cooler than you, by the way.”

Damian bristled, his hands curling into fists. “You’re barely older than me, yet you have already claimed an heir?” His voice trembled with a mix of indignation and something close to panic.

Danny raised an eyebrow. “She’s not an ‘heir.’ She’s just... Dani. And technically, she’s my clone, not my biological kid. It’s complicated.”

But Damian was already lost in his own spiraling thoughts.

Late that night, Damian approached Jason. “Todd,” he said, his tone serious. “I require your assistance.”

Jason blinked. “Uh, with what?”

“I must find a suitable candidate to bear my child.”

Jason stared at him for a long moment before bursting into laughter. “You’re joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I am not,” Damian replied, his expression unyielding. “If Daniel has already produced a successor, then I must act swiftly to secure my own lineage.”

Jason clutched his stomach, wheezing. “Oh, man, this is rich. Demon Spawn wants to have a baby just to one-up his ghost brother.”

“It is not a matter of one-upmanship,” Damian insisted, though the faint pink tinge in his cheeks said otherwise.

The next morning, Danny caught wind of Damian’s... ambition. He found his younger twin in the training room, furiously sparring with a practice dummy.

“Hey, Dames,” Danny said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Do not call me that,” Damian growled, landing a particularly vicious strike on the dummy.

Danny held up his hands. “Okay, okay. But I heard a little rumor. Something about you wanting to, uh, find a lady to have a kid with?”

Damian froze mid-strike, then turned to glare at Danny. “Who told you that?”

Danny smirked. “Doesn’t matter. Look, man, you don’t need to go all ‘League heir’ about this. Dani’s not my biological kid. She’s a clone. Like, literally made from my DNA. I didn’t exactly sign up for the whole ‘parent’ thing—it just kinda happened.”

Damian’s glare softened slightly, though his posture remained stiff. “And yet, you claim her as your own.”

“Yeah, because she’s family,” Danny said simply. “She needed someone, so I stepped up. That’s what family does.”

Damian lowered his gaze, his fists unclenching. “I see.”

A few weeks later, Talia’s clone assassins made their move. But instead of eliminating them, Damian captured and brought them to the Manor.

“Father,” he declared, standing proudly before Bruce, “I have decided to take responsibility for these clones. They are my family, and I will train them to uphold the legacy of the League.”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damian—”

“Not bad, kid,” Jason said, clapping him on the back. “But you might want to workshop the pitch. Sounds a little murder-y.”

Tim groaned. “Great. Now we have more mini-Damians running around.”

Danny, watching from the sidelines with Dani by his side, couldn’t help but laugh. “Guess I’m rubbing off on him.”

“You think he’s doing this to one-up you?” Dani asked.

“Absolutely,” Danny replied, grinning. “And I love it.”

While the Bat-family adjusted to the sudden influx of clones, Danny and Damian’s relationship began to shift. Though their rivalry remained, it was tempered by a growing mutual respect.

“I still do not approve of your cavalier attitude,” Damian said one night as they patrolled Gotham together.

“And I still think you need to loosen up,” Danny shot back.

Damian huffed but didn’t argue. Deep down, he was starting to appreciate having an older brother who wasn’t afraid to challenge him—or support him.

And for Danny, seeing his once-distant twin slowly open up was worth all the sibling squabbles in the world.

[flwrkid14]

Tim Works Hard So He Can Nap Harder

The thing about Tim is that he gets things done.

Not in a normal, reasonable, “wow, he’s really productive” way. No, Tim operates on an entirely different plane of efficiency—one that defies common sense and possibly the laws of physics.

Give him a five-hour task? He’ll finish it in two. Tell him something is impossible? He’ll stare at you, offended, before proving you so wrong it physically hurts.

Sometimes, it’s out of sheer spite. Bruce once told him a mission was too complicated for him to handle alone, so Tim completed it in record time out of pettiness alone. Jason told Tim he didn’t have the skill set for corporate espionage. So Tim hacked three shell companies overnight, uncovered Black Mask’s entire financial network, and sent Jason a PowerPoint presentation with the subject line: “Skill Set Acquired”.

Other times, it’s about time management. Tim understands, at his very core, that the faster he works, the sooner he can stop working. If he has to burn through a mountain of reports in a single hour so he can take a nap, then so be it. If he has to analyze data at inhuman speeds so he can binge-watch a show later, then he will.

The bats have learned to just… let it happen.

Dick once made the mistake of asking Tim to help him streamline his schedule. Tim, in under an hour, not only optimized his entire calendar but also accounted for every possible emergency, scheduled backup time slots for rescheduling, and somehow made Dick twice as productive without making him feel busier. It was kinda terrifying.

Barbara asked him to double-check some intel. He cross-referenced it against every available database, found three hidden links no one had noticed, and sent her a color-coded report with visual aids.

Bruce told him to track a smuggling ring in Gotham. Tim mapped out their entire operation in one night, had arrests lined up by morning, and then went home to sleep like a corpse.

Steph once sarcastically asked if Tim could figure out how to clean up the Gotham underworld in a week. Tim pulled out a ten-step plan before she even finished her sentence.

Tim doesn’t waste time. He doesn’t believe in half-measures. He works fast, works well, and then disappears before anyone can ask him for more.

The only thing scarier than Tim’s efficiency is the fact that he actively chooses to use it selectively.

Because while Tim is capable of working like a one-man army, when it benefits him, he’s also capable of weaponized uselessness. If he doesn’t want to do something, suddenly he’s the most inefficient person alive.

He’ll take weeks to answer a text. He’ll forget how to do basic tasks. He’ll act so completely incapable of anything that people just stop asking him for things.

But when he wants something done?

It’s over before you even realize he started.

[cullenbluewrites]

Six-Eyed, Undead Royal Beauty

DP x DC

Do not repost this to other platforms. If you see this elsewhere, it is likely without my consent.

If you see this elsewhere please notify me

It started with Earth being invaded by beings from a foreign dimension. They’d used some weird combination of magic and science to carve their way into this dimension, and were set on conquering Earth to use the inhabitants as a slave force/food supply/something else sinister and morally abhorrent. Jason wasn’t 100% paying attention to what these guys goals were, he just knew he was allowed to shoot the scumbags.

Anyway: interdimensional threat, requires interdimensional aid. The JL Dark had decided on summoning the King of the Infinite Realms. Which sounds intense and risky, but Constantine had assured them all it was fine. Apparently the last king was dethroned, and the new ruler was quite keen on maintaining balance, and not being a ‘Tyrannical Dimension-Razing Wanker like Pariah Dark had been’ (John Constantine at his finest).

Apparently there had been friendly encounters with the king before. Raven had met with the king, seeking his aid in emancipating herself from her father. She had described King Phantom as kind hearted and rather humorous, but absolutely ruthless when the chips were down - Trigon no longer held sway over Raven, and she was forever in King Phantom’s debt.

One of the Green Lantern Team’s allies, some Emo, Bichomatic Lantern called Razer (Jason did not know those guys came in more than one colour until now), had apparently sold Phantom his soul in return for finding his missing/dead girlfriend (that whole situation has been labeled as ‘Existentially Complicated’ by Hal Jordan). When he had been called to confirm, Razer had explained that King Phantom was immensely uncomfortable about the whole Soul-Owning part, and was actually very enthusiastic about helping to reunite the lovers. As for the Soul Contract part, it had been reduced to 100 years of service and a garuntee of employment after Razer’s inevitable demise. Jason thought that was a pretty good deal, all things considered.

Constantine’s soul also belonged to King Phantom apparently. This was not very surprising, because it felt like almost everybody had a claim to the Hellblazer’s soul at this point (even Tim, who initially drew up that contract as a joke). The High King apparently had a disagreement with Satan himself at one point, and the devil had politely ‘gifted’ Phantom the Hellblazer’s soul in retaliation. Every contract Constantine had ever made with a Hellborn creature had been passed onto King Phantom, in an act of Pettiness disguised as respect. ‘According to king Phantom, I’m that annoying’ Constantine had announced proudly. Everyone agreed that a) that’s not something he should be proud of, and b) yes he is that annoying. Much like Razer, Constantine had a nice, cushy desk job waiting for him when he eventually kicks the bucket.

All in all, they had good reason to believe High King Phantom would assist them in their time of need. Since it had been an all hands on Deck Scenario, Jason was here with the rest of the Batfamily, fighting alongside the rest of the Costumed Community - every hero, vigilante and antihero had been called in. Currently, Jason was toward the back of the crowd with his siblings, while the JLD and the Founding Members negotiated with King Phantom. The rest of the crowd were monitoring the situation planetside or gossiping. Naturally, their Royal Guest currently in the huge summoning circle was the primary topic being discussed.

And dear god, was the High King an incredible, beautiful sight to behold. Phantom was over four stories tall, with snowy white hair that faded into soft vapour. His skin was a pale blueish gray, and he had long pointed ears, and six glowing green eyes. When the king spoke, Jason could see that his serrated teeth and long, razor sharp canines were Lazarus green, and that his tongue was forked. When he smiled, it was a little too wide to be considered normal. He had four arms, the forearms seemingly made of living ice, with phantom’s green-tinged bones visible through them. His torso was partially melted away, revealing part of his glowing green ribcage and spinal cord. His hips were covered, his flesh returning, and forming a long, black, coiling tail seemingly formed of wispy tendrils. His hands had long, talon-like claws that looked like they could spear through multiple entire humans, and looked sharp enough to shred through metal with ease. He seemed to be clothed in a skin tight, black and white jumpsuit, and had a flowing cape that looked like it contained the cosmos in its folds. His kingly artifacts, the crown and ring, glowed a pulsating, neon green, emanating strength and power.

He looked terrifying, a being of pure Death. A great deal of the room looked up at King Phantom in fear.

He was the most beautifully harrowing thing Jason had ever seen. It didn’t help that Phantom has such a kind looking smile, despite his less human features. He had such a gentle and friendly voice too, and yet he still commanded power with it. Jason’s poor dark romance obsessed heart was swooning HARD… And unfortunately it was kind of obvious, even with the helmet on.

“Hood. Not the time for Gay Panic. Or Monsterfucker panic.” Tim hissed, elbowing him. “I get it, I can kind of see where you’re coming from, but for the love of god pull yourself together.”

“Shut up, just let me enjoy the view in peace” Jason hissed back, eyes not leaving the six-eyed, undead, royal beauty before him. He swallowed, throat feeling dry, despite the fact Jason was probably drooling. Definitely drooling.

“I agree with Red Robin. For once. This is unbecoming of you hood.” Damian chimed in, annoyed. “That is an eldritch emissary of death itself. It reeks of the Lazarus pits. Do not fall for it.”

“Really not sure why you’re so enamored anyway. That guy looks scary as shit” Nightwing grumbled, eyes trained suspiciously on the giant ghost, posture tense. He clearly did not share Jason’s superior taste.

“Shut the fuck up” Jason growled, annoyed. He just wanted to ogle the undead eye-candy without his siblings audibly judging him for it, judge him in your heads like normal people for crying out loud.

“He’s very polite and friendly” Cass remarked neutrally. She looked a little uncomfortable, but Phantom clearly didn’t set off as many warning alarms for her as he did for Dick and Damien.

“Please do not indulge Jason’s monsterfucker agenda” Tim groaned. Steph laughed.

“The lights and colours on this guy…. I mean he is kind of mesmerizing, to be fair to hood” Duke hummed, staring at King Phantom with awe.

“Thank you Signal, for being the only guy here to back me up” Jason grumbled, folding his arms defensively.

“Well, to be fair to the others, I’m like 90% sure you’re drooling under the helmet Big Red” Steph laughed, and Jason flipped the bird at her in response.

“I totally am, and I feel zero shame for it” Jason grinned. “That guy is a solid 12/10, an absolute bombshell of an Entity” he purred. Tim gagged dramatically.

“Oh fucking hell little wing, for the sake of my sanity would you stop lusting over the Eldritch horror?!” Nightwing wheezed, glancing between Jason and Phantom’s titanic floating form in mostly hidden terror. Alright, that’s it. Time to horrify his siblings in public. Maybe this will teach them to keep their mouths shut. Jason turned to his brother, taking the helmet off so Dick could see his domino mask covered face as he said this.

“I will not. That is single-handedly the most beautiful and hot creature I have ever seen in my life, and I have no shame in admitting that!” Jason announced proudly. “I do not care if he’s an undead eldritch horror, he could do utterly unspeakable things to me and I would thank him for the rest of eternity. I shit you not, I would have his fucking children if I was biologically capable of it. I have never seen a being more ethereally beautiful and haunting, and I am genuinely tempted to write poetry about how gorgeous he is. And I would appreciate it if you would ease off my back about it, and just let me enjoy my fantasies in peace, alright?”

Dick’s mouth was agape, speechless. Jason smiled, smug. That wasn’t even the most shameless thing he could have said, there were a lot of thoughts rattling around in his brain and only 80% were PG-13. Even his other siblings had been shocked into silence. He was so proud he didn’t even notice how quiet things had gotten.

“Well, I have good news for you Hood” Damien wheezed, and Jason turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

“What?”

“His Majesty apparently has very keen hearing” Damien finished, eyes trained nervously on the high king in question. Jason quickly turned to see not only a large portion of the Justice League staring at him in confusion or shock… but King Phantom himself staring at him, wide eyed and mouth agape.

Oops

“…oh.” Jason said intelligently, face turning as red as his helmet. He really hoped King Phantom wasn’t offended by that little outburst. In hindsight, Jason really should have guessed that the guy who’s ears were roughly the same size as a car would have good hearing. He could see Constantine suppressing Laughter, and Bruce had his head in his hands. Welp, this is what he gets for being Horny in public. Phantom had completely frozen up, and Jason frantically started thinking of apologies. He’d definitely screwed this up.

Suddenly, phantom’s mouth snapped shut, his face turning bright green, and he reeled back a bit, covering all six eyes with both sets of hands. Jason swore the guy whimpered a little. It was a noise Jason would replay in his mind for ever.

“W-well. Thank you, that is um… quite the confidence booster” Phantom choked out, flustered and flushed, peeking out at Jason through a gap between his fingers. Cute.

“Y-you’re Welcome.” Jason replied, equally flustered. Holy shit holy shit holy shit that response was ADORABLE. Have Mercy on Jason’s poor battered soul! He can’t handle this!! His mind is already picking potential wedding outfits! And that’s not a small feat when you account for the size difference!

“Oh my fucking god” Steph and Tim wheezed, barely containing their laughter. Fair enough to them, the laughter is earned.

“Ahahah let’s back to the negotiations ey???!” Phantom yelped nervously, turning back to Constantine and removing his hands from his face and grinning. He was still bright green and he looked so monumentally flustered and awkward, Jason was swooning once more. God, if King Phantom was interested in a consort…

“I think we should probably give up on Hood” Robin sighed “he’s too far gone”. He was met with a series of agreeing grunts and grumbles.

The talks went on for a bit longer, the JL and JLD finally hashing out a contract that wouldn’t negatively impact the JL, and that wouldn’t ‘have those OCD eyeball-jerks the Observants up in arms later’. Phantoms pointy ear-tips were still flushed green.

“Alright, the deal is made and all the terms are agreed upon. The contract is officially signed. I will deal with the invading forces, and make sure they will never be able to cut through to another dimension in the name of tyranny again” Phantom spoke formally, his voice firm and confident. “I will depart and deal with the threat at once.”

“The Justice League is in your debt King Phantom” Bruce bowed his head respectfully, and Phantom returned the bow graciously. Then the king… lingered. Awkward. He glanced toward Jason, who straightened up.

“Um. B-before I go, uh…” Phantom mumbled nervously, before averting his gaze. “R-Red Hood, if I may speak with you for a moment?”Jason gulped, walking forward to stand at the front of the crowd, before king Phantom. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him. Phantom gulped, before there was suddenly a flash of light, as Phantom’s form seems to shift, morph and shrink, until a significantly smaller figure stood before him. It was unmistakably still King Phantom, despite not looking more like a regular person (if you ignore the glowing, the grey-blue skin, white hair and green eyes), his crown and ring still present. Only now, the cape looked more like a cloak, and his jumpsuit resembled a simplistic Hero getup. He also had legs now. They were nice legs. They would probably look great while pinning Jason down on the floor, while Phantoms boot pressed against his throat— FOCUS JASON. HEAD OUT OF GUTTER.

Phantom was still green-faced and sheepish. He hesitantly reached into his sternum - hand going right inside himself - and pulled out a battered looking phone. Apparently instead of pockets, Phantom just kept his possessions inside his body. Fascinating.

“I-I’m cool with exchanging contact info, I-if you’d like to meet up and get lunch sometime?” Phantom smiled at him, nervously. “T-this is a lot easier than summoning circles, certainly much less messy” the ghost explained, gesturing to the phone.

Jason gaped, before springing into action and pulling out his favorite burner phone. Holy shit holy shit holy shit. Hot eldritch shapeshifter wants to go on a date. This is the best day ever. “Y-yeah! I am very cool with that. Totally cool, very enthusiastic. I would love to have lunch with you sometime” Jason rambled as he walked up to the edge of the summoning circle, and the pair began typing in each other’s numbers. Phantom still had the claws and fangs, but they look looked less likely to carve through his flesh and shred Jason to pieces (he wouldn’t mind if they did, it’d be such a sexy way to go).

“Um. Y��know, not the first time someone’s y’know. Reacted like that to the Ghost King Form.” Phantom murmured. “It’s just… first time it’s been from someone this hot” the King smiled, looking up at Jason through his hair. God, how does this guy alternate between being super hot and super cute so well. It’s unfair.

“R-really? High praise coming from you King Phantom” Jason smiled, finishing typing in the Kings digits and pocketing his phone. Play it cool Todd.

“Oh, you can call me Danny. My full name’s Danny Phantom.” Danny grinned at him. The king of all dead and ruler of the infinite realms name was Danny. Fucking Danny. It’s perfect.

“Danny then. Cute name” Jason smirked, earring him a blush from the Ghost. “So, you thought I was hot?”

“Oh yes, drop dead gorgeous.” Danny laughed, oh what a beautiful sound that was. “Not to mention what you said had my cold dead heart to skip a beat or two.”

“Was that a death pun? What that two death puns?” Why did Jason find that adorable? God they share a love of death puns. His heart just skipped a damn beat!

“Mayybe” Danny smirked, before tearing through the summoning barrier (HE COULD DO THAT THE WHOLE TIME), causing several people to curse and yell in shock, and gave Jason a peck on the cheek. Before he could react, Danny zoomed off towards the chaos, yelling “OKAYGOTTAGOSAVELIVESNOWCALLMEBYEEEEEEE!!” As he left, phasing through the Watchtower window. Jason stood there, brain sending him the Error 404 message as he stood there in shock. He sat down.

“Holy fucking shit” Jason wheezed, breaking the silence.

“Holy fucking shit indeed! Congratulations Red Hood! You just scored one hell of a date!” Constantine laughed. “Fucking hell kid. I’ve seen cosmic powered entities get flustered before, but never one that powerful! You just won the bloody lottery.”

The whole room was alight with conversation. Jason had kind of forgotten that the Justice League was even there, or that the world was a stake! He flopped backward against the ground, staring up at the watchtower cieling. He’d just, apparently, wooed an all powerful undead spirit in under a minute. Damn. Jason could see Bruce approaching him slowly.

“Son.” Bruce said, tonelessly.

“Save it old man, I don’t want a lecture” Jason sighed, closing his eyes.

“I… I don’t have a lecture for that” Bruce admitted, sounding as shocked as Jason felt. “Im still processing everything I just saw. I don’t know what just happened.”

“Me neither to be honest” Jason wheezed.

“…Congratulations. Be cautious… I suppose” Bruce mumbled, still shocked at the series of events. “Be sure to form contingencies if Phantom’s attentions turn sour.”

“Thanks B.” Jason responded, lying there on the watchtower floor, wondering if that was all a dream. The rest of the League ran around him, still paying attention to the crisis Phantom was actively solving. Holy crap. Jason Todd-Wayne had a date with the Ghost King.

…

“…I think Nightwing fainted!” Superboy yelled, lifting the limp form of Nightwing. Oops.

Should I continue this + post it to Ao3? Lemme know in the comments.

[nightingale-prompts]

Ghost Courting is Dangerous-DC x DP prompt

This post comes from the Accidental Ghost Courting AU > HERE

Warning: Graphic Descriptions

One thing the other ghosts didn't tell Danny was the phases. The infatuation is strong but it happens so early in the courting that the other phases rarely have time to kick in before the bond is made.

So what comes after intense infatuation?

Obsession.

Not the cute or romantic kind.

The kind only ghosts had and were dangerous to humans.

Danny felt the first stirrings after spending the night at Tim's apartment. They ended up falling asleep on the couch mostly because Danny leaned on Tim's shoulder. Now he was resting on Tim's chest. But waking up the immediate thought that entered Danny's mind was to bite. Not in a cute nibble way. Danny wanted to take a bite out of Tim. To taste his blood and feel it run down his chin.

Danny wondered how perfect Tim would look when the light left his eyes.

Immediately Danny beat those thoughts with a bat back into the darkness. He would never want to see Tim hurt or dead.

What Danny didn't know was that courting was way more complicated than he thought. It doesn't follow human logic.

This mantis like behavior twisted Danny's thoughts.

Just looking at Tim caused them to return.

"I wish I could carve open his chest and crawl inside. Feel his warmth around me. I want to hold his heart in my hands." Danny thought.

Clockwork decided to give him the talk.

It wasn't that Danny wanted to kill Tim. Not at all.

It's just that ghosts are nebulous with blurred lines of their physical forms. Their energies mingle without physical touch. That's how they communicate on a deeper level. That was how Nocturne constantly told Clockwork that he loved him without saying a word. The more ancient the ghost the stronger the project was.

Danny's thoughts were just a projection of his desire to get closer to Tim.

Clockwork was still critical of Danny's choice to court a moral.

"The next stages only get worse. You must find a way to satisfy these urges and quickly. Your partner seems to be getting cold feet. He moves too slow."

Tim however was still unaware that he was being courted and was just as little sad that his good friend Danny had been acting weirder than usual around him.

[bluerosefox]

Hmmm we should play around with the idea of Tim going undercover more. Especially when he goes out as Caroline Hill btw.

Dead Tired prompt once again.

Danny knows the people he's working for are... shady at best but he needed this job, ever since he left Amity Park after getting into a bad fight with his parents, they wanted him to become a Ghost Hunter (funny how they never really pressured Jazz into it.), he made sure to shut down the portal now since he learned to make portals (and made sure to delete and burn his parents blueprints for it), renounced himself as Ghost King (he really didn't want the responsibility and helped set up a kinda self governing and kinda 'I will come back to help the Realms keep stable but I am NOT ruling' thing)

[Basically Danny is still technically the King, the Realms need him to keep stable (personal head canon the Realms reflect its Ruler, Danny is much more stable than Pariah Dark and thus the Realms are healing and slowly returning to its natural state), but Danny set up a somewhat self governing thing where he can leave but returns very so often to keep the Realms stable and healing. Its complicated but it works.]

AND because his grades tanked hard due to the accident and being a young ghost hero in high school, Danny didn't have a lot of choices for work or even school (he is in college, none of his dream ones though, and is juggling between it and odd jobs here and there)

Anyways so yeah, Danny knows the people he's working for aren't... great. He knows they're shady AF and knows he could maybe find out what if he used his ghost powers but he does need this job for just a bit longer, until his next paycheck that's all.

He also know his new co-worker might be an undercover cop and is investigating them.

Caroline Hill is a nice lady though, even if it was an act to get closer, polite, works hard when paired with him, and very pretty.

So Danny decides to help cover up tiny mistakes or distract their other co-workers/employers when she's snooping around their work areas/offices.

[izadi234]

Forget me not

-Warning: Contain yandere themes, neglected! gn!reader, mention of low self-esteem, the writer's first language isn't English. Yan! Batfamily x gn! reader

Chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4(You're here)

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 4

The next day, Duke woke up early (and not just because he had training with Bruce and Dick), but the excitement of seeing you again after several days kept him awake all night.

Thank goodness it was the weekend which meant Duke could stay out a little later than usual, although to be honest he would have preferred to stay with you in your new "home" but two things stopped him: The first was that you still hadn't told him where you currently lived for the simple reason that you were still settling into your apartment and the second was because it wasn't in the plans he and Alfred had made.

Just a little longer and you'll be in your (cage) home again.

After his training with Bruce and Dick, Duke thanked them and quickly left to have breakfast and then get ready. Clearly, this attitude on the part of the young man didn't go unnoticed by his mentor or his older brother.

"Do you know what's wrong with him?" Dick asked Bruce

"No." The security guard shook his head. "Maybe he's going out to see someone. He looks excited."

"Maybe," Dick nodded.

At the dining table were the other family members, Jason and Damian. They both looked at Duke as if he had grown two heads taller just because he was devouring the food as if he hadn't eaten in 100 years.

"You know that the food isn't going to go away, right?" Jason chuckled.

"You should eat properly, Thomas," little Damian scolded.

"I'm sorry, guys!" he apologized as he stood up. "I have something to do and I'm in a bit of a hurry!"

He didn't allow the other vigilantes to ask who he was going to see because he had already left.

As he climbed the stairs, he almost ran into Tim, Cass, and Steph, who looked at him confused.

"Why the rush, Duke? The mansion is burning and we have to evacuate?" Steph joked

"Sorry guys! I'm going to see someone and I'm already late" he said before entering his room

"Oohh˜ Is it a secret girlfriend?" Steph asked the other two

"I don't think so. Duke never talks about girls" Tim said

"What if it's a boy?" Cass proposed

"I don't think so either. He would seem more nervous but he's more excited" she analyzed

Quickly Duke took a shower and changed his clothes. In a backpack he packed his laptop, chargers and wallet. You never know when he might use it and he could also ask you for help with some tasks he had some doubts about.

Once ready Duke went down and headed for the door when Bruce stopped him.

"Where are you going Duke?" the eldest Wayne asked curiously

Duke turned to look at him and with a smile said:

"I'm going out for a while"

"And with who if you don't mind me asking?" Bruce smiled thinking it was some young love

"With (Name)" Duke said as if it was the most normal thing

"(Name)? Wouldn't it be easier if you spent time here at the mansion?" Bruce suggested a little confused by the fact that both preferred to spend time outside the mansion instead of there.

"No, I don't think so, it would be a little complicated for (Name) to get here" the boy answered

"Getting here?" he asked confused "Duke, what are you up to..." he was cut off by the young man

"I'm sorry Bruce but I have to go! I'm running late" he said and then left him with the word in his mouth

Once Duke left, Bruce stared at the door with a frown.

Why would it be difficult for you to get to Wayne Manor when you lived there?

Unless...

"Alfred!" called the butler

The game began

"Yes Master Bruce?" Alfred asked as he approached to see what he needed but he already knew very well

Alfred who was watching Bruce and Duke's interaction from the shadows of the mansion, had a sly smile on his face that hid when his son called for him.

"What? What do you mean they don't live here anymore?" Bruce asked the butler

"That's right Master Bruce. I thought you had realized that" Alfred said quietly

"No! I don't..." he sighed heavily and sat down in his chair while hiding his face in his hands

"I've been very busy" Wayne excused himself which made Alfred frown

"Busy? Busy for 15 years? So busy that he didn't give them even 5 minutes of his attention but still spent time with the other young masters?" Alfred pointed out

Bruce's heart stopped for a moment at his words. He was right (as always). How could he forget for 15 years his eldest heir, his first blood kid? Yes, the night with your mother had been fleeting but, you weren't to blame for his actions. But he should have been there for you when you lost your parents, in fact, since before your birth he should have been there for you and your mother since she was pregnant.

But now he didn't regret it. He knows he screwed up, but now he could fix it. He could buy you anything you want, go to your competitions, watch movies with you or do anything you like but...

What do you like to do?

What are your hobbies?

What movies do you like?

But now that he thinks about it...

What grade are you in? Are you in high school or already in college?

And if you're already in college, did you miss your graduation? What are you studying?

And what about your age? Your friends?

Who are you?

"Alfred" he turned to look at the butler who just looked at him neutrally "Where are they?"

"I'm afraid I can't answer your question, Master Bruce. They didn't leave a clue as to where they were going" Alfred replied

"What?" he stood up from his chair

"That's right" he nodded

After a few minutes of silence Bruce spoke again.

"And where is their room?"

He doesn't even remember the room he assigned you

"Follow me, sir."

"This is it, sir." Alfred stopped in front of a white door with some (f/c) (favorite color) decorations painted on it.

Bruce approached and caressed the details of the door as if just touching them would give him the power to know you better despite the years.

The eldest Wayne opened the door to your room only to find an empty room, a bed with the sheets and blankets folded on top of it and the walls in your favorite color.

"I don't remember when they painted their room," Bruce said as he looked around.

"They changed the color a couple of times. The last time they painted their room was when Master Duke arrived. He offered them his help after they helped him settle in better at the Manor," Alfred explained as he also looked at the room, not with curiosity like Bruce did but with longing and melancholy.

Bruce looked around the empty room and despite being the best detective in the world he couldn't find any clues as to who you really were or where you might have gone.

"Tsk... There's nothing here..." he muttered to himself

"Maybe... You should ask the other young masters and mistresses" Alfred suggested

"Maybe they saw you on your last day"

"Yeah..." Bruce snapped out of his thoughts "Maybe they know something"

After that, he left your empty room leaving the old butler alone. Alfred looked around the room one last time before leaving and closing the door.

Don't worry (Name), soon you'll have a better room than the last one.

While chaos was beginning to spread at the Wayne residence, you were waiting for Duke in the park in downtown Gotham just as you had agreed on the phone.

You were checking your phone while sitting on a bench. You were tired of waiting for your brother, but you would wait for him as long as necessary. You also understood that Wayne Manor was not that close to the center since it was somewhat (very) far from the rest of the city and if you were honest, from afar the mansion seemed somewhat haunted and when you were little you couldn't help but think it was Dracula's mansion. And those same thoughts made you feel terrified of living in that place, especially when it rained. You always went to Alfred for protection and the kind butler always assured you that there was nothing to fear and that Dracula was not real. Clearly, the mind of your 4-year-old self didn't think the same, and your idea didn't change when you discovered that your family were all security guards who only worked at night and that their symbols were bats (although some also had birds on their suits).

You smiled at that memory from your childhood, maybe not so pleasant at the time but now, at 19 years old, it made you laugh.

"Hey (Name)!" a voice made you come out of your daydream

When you turned to see who it was, you saw Duke running towards you with a big smile on his lips. You quickly got up from the bench you were sitting on and before you could take two steps, Duke had already reached where you were and hugged you.

You laughed at his somewhat childish attitude but you hugged him gladly anyway.

"It seems like you missed me" you joked still hugging him

"Of course I did" he turned to look at you "You are sorely missed at the mansion"

That's not true...

You wanted to contradict what he had said but to be honest you didn't want to fight with Duke and much less talk about the mansion and its inhabitants.

"Well well" you giggled "Where do you want to go? There are a couple of cafes around here if you want to go get something to drink and if you want we can go to the arcade to play some video games afterwards"

Even though Duke felt a little disappointed that you broke the hug between the two of you his eyes lit up when you mentioned the arcade.

"Sure! Let's go!" he said excitedly

"Okay, let's go" you smiled at him and then started walking towards a cafe you frequented

When you got to the cafe you both stood in line to order. When it was finally your turn you smiled at the barista and greeted him.

"Hey Mark" you greeted the boy

"Oh hey (Name)!" the boy greeted you back with a smile in kind "How are you? How's the race going?"

"Fine fine, a little too tiring" you chuckled "But I'm enjoying it"

"I'm glad to hear that" the boy smiled at you "Are you going to want the usual?"

"Yes please and you Duke?" you turned to see your brother who had just been staring at the boy and without you realizing it he was giving him a look that could kill anyone

Who was that boy?

A partner, friend, a crush? Or even worse...

A secret boyfriend?

Duke knew better than anyone that you were extremely good at keeping secrets so he wouldn't doubt that you had a partner and didn't tell anyone.

Damn... This made his plan more urgent...

Your voice brought Duke back to reality and his smile returned to his face.

"Oh yeah, I'd like a hot chocolate please."

"Okay," the young man nodded.

You paid for both drinks and waited a few minutes for your drinks to be prepared. Once you had your drinks, you sat down at a small table near the cafe window.

"So... how do you know that guy?" Duke asked you

"Well, I usually frequent this cafe, and he's usually here when I come so he already knows me a little" you giggled

"I see..." Duke said and then smiled "So tell me, how did college go for you?"

You were studying journalism, inspired by your father or rather stepfather, (F/N). And even though many people you knew tried to change your mind about it, you always remained sure of your decision. You were in your third semester, since the first 2 semesters you took online and to be honest, it was a little harder but much more fun and interesting.

"I'm doing great!" You said with a big smile "I've met so many interesting and nice people and the face-to-face classes are a little more difficult but I feel like I'm learning. One of my teachers is assigning us tutors who are high-level journalists and although I'm still waiting to see who is assigned to me as a tutor I just hope it's good"

"That sounds great!" Duke smiled

Even though he looked happy on the outside, he was actually frustrated on the inside.

Were you really that happy away from the mansion?

Away from them?

Away from him?

No, it can't be... That's impossible

He had missed you from the first second he found out you were gone!

Had you stopped loving him?

Is that why you don't tell him where you're living?

He was wondering all that but when he looked into your eyes he calmed down.

No, that wasn't possible

You are someone so sweet and kind, you would never forget him

If you did, why would you be there with him?

But even so, he wasn't going to take the risk, even though he enjoyed seeing you happy...

YOU NEED TO GO BACK HOME

Hellooo! Here's the next chapter! I hope you all like It and enjoy it! Sorry for taking a bit to publish this but I've been kind of busy, still I hope I publish the next chapter sooner. Also, I've been tagging everyone in the TAG LIST so tell me if you want me to add you!

Anyway, if you liked it I would appreciate if you leave a heart and I'm Also interested to heart if you have any ideas or opinions about the story.

See you in the next one!

-Izadi <3

TAG LIST

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[pomegranatelifethis]

Ding dong

You hugged the rabbit in your lap tighter as you blinked. You were soaked from the rain, but you held back so as not to show anyone that you were crying. As you stood in front of the door, the sound of the car driving away behind you continued to echo in your ears.

The person who left you left without even stopping to check if the door was open.

You held the folder tighter in your hand. It said "To Bruce Wayne - Personal" in capital letters.

The door opened.

"God…" said the old man in a gentle voice. He bent down and came down to your eye level.

"Little lady, what are you doing here?"

You couldn't say anything. You couldn't speak. You just handed over the folder. Your lips trembled, but your tears held back. You pulled your rabbit up a little more. It made you feel safe.

That evening

You were under a soft blanket in the living room. Accompanied by the crackling of the fire, there were people around you that you didn't know but somehow felt warm.

A cheerful person who makes you hot chocolate.

A tough-looking but sweet person who smiles at you without you noticing.

A girl who sits silently and watches you.

And another one who straightens his rabbit, tough but gentle.

They were all looking at you from afar. And in one corner of the room... there was the man reading the folder. His black hair, thoughtful facial expression, and that strange warmth in his eyes when he looks at you.

He left the folder on the table. He took a deep breath. Then he approached you. He sat next to her.

You made eye contact. Something inside him made him feel different.

"I… I'm your father."

When he heard these words, everything inside him became complicated. You tried to understand.

Then you just shook your head. “Okay…” you said in a whisper.

You held your rabbit tightly. He gently caressed her hair.

"You're home now."

Next Days

Life slowly began to take shape around you in the mansion.

Patrul times were now after you fell asleep. Weapons, costumes—all kept out of sight.

You lived in a world of just hot breakfasts, cartoons, coloring books and lots of laughter.

When night came, someone was always with you.

Someone was telling a fairy tale,

Someone was braiding her hair,

Someone was sitting quietly with you, painting.

And every night, a whisper reached his ear:

“Sweet dreams, my little star.”

Every night, while you were in deep sleep, they were out to protect the city. They were wearing costumes, wearing masks, blending into the shadows of Gotham.

But when they returned in the morning, one of them always stopped by your room. They were looking at you with pieces of armor still on them, tiredness in their eyes, but love in their hearts.

And when morning comes…

You just woke up with a new breakfast, a new sketchbook, and lots of hugs.

Because to protect you from the darkness, you had not one but five heroes.

And for you… it was all normal.

Because you were their most precious secret.

It had been about two weeks since you arrived at the Wayne Manor.

Every morning at breakfast, a different face greeted you. Sometimes, it was the smiling boy — the one with slightly messy hair, who always managed to make you laugh. Other times, it was the quiet one, always sitting next to you with black hair. Sometimes, it was the one who would come into the kitchen and ask, "What do you want to eat, little one?" — the one with a slightly furrowed brow, but secretly caring for you a lot.

But they all had one thing in common: They cared about you.

And you had started to get used to them. You were forming bonds with each of them, individually. But it was hard to remember their names, so you had come up with your own nicknames for them in your head:

Funny brother (Dick)

Serious but sweet brother (Damian)

The one who falls asleep but brings chocolate (Tim)

The one who gets angry but secretly makes you laugh (Jason)

That morning, everyone was in the kitchen. The sun had rarely risen over Gotham. As you wrapped yourself in a blanket and climbed onto one of the kitchen chairs, you looked up and glanced around.

"Good morning, everyone," you said shyly.

Dick turned to you: "Good morning, little lady! I’m taking you to school today, are you ready?"

You smiled. "Okay... Funny brother."

Everyone paused for a moment. Tim almost dropped his cup. Damian raised an eyebrow. Jason chuckled.

"Did she just say 'brother'?" Jason said, grinning.

You blushed and lowered your head. But as Bruce walked in through the kitchen door, your eyes locked on him.

He was the quieter, more serious one. But he never missed checking on you at night. And every morning, he would face you with a tired but peaceful expression.

Today, you felt a bit braver.

When he leaned down towards you, you reached out and tried to climb into his lap, blanket and all. He easily lifted you up and wrapped his arms around you.

And you rested your head on his shoulder and whispered:

“Dad…”

There was a silence. It was as if the air in the room had stopped.

In that moment, Bruce’s eyes softened a little more. His embrace tightened a little more.

And he responded with just one word:

“My love…”

Dick wiped his eyes, pretending, as if saying, “I’m not crying, you are!”

Tim was staring at his coffee, though his nose was red.

Jason turned his back, but his shoulders were shaking.

Damian, however, kept looking at you without averting his eyes. For the first time, it seemed like he was proud.

In that moment, maybe for the first time, you truly felt "belonging."

A father.

And four brothers.

You were no longer alone.

[shotosjupiter]

JJK MEN AND K-DRAMA MOMENTS !

synopsis — those classic k-drama tropes and jjk men! featuring inumaki, yuuta, toji, and sukuna. this is part two, you can find part one over here.

genre/warnings — gn! reader. university/modern!au for sukuna and inumaki (he can speak), jealousy, lowkey yuta is giving avoidant-attachment a little BUT I SWEAR ITS NOT THAT SERIOUS he's just a silly nervous guy, lowkey crackfic for sukuna LMFAO hes so silly i love him sorry, 2.2k words total.

TOGE INUMAKI — LOVE TRIANGLE

toge was on his last nerve. he could not take another second of this guy shamelessly flirting with you. who did he think he was? he had been all up on you since the semester had started and he, frankly, could not wait to get rid of him.

he was walking towards you, ready to whisk you off after your classes to a cafe you had mentioned before when he saw you talking with him. now, toge is above having a rival. that seems silly, he's not competing with the guy. plus, you're not an object to be fought over. still, something within him burned with emotion as he saw the two of you interacting, the small touches the other was brushing you with. his jaw clenched as he took in the sight of the two of you. the way he casually brushed his fingers over your arm as he spoke, the way you laughed, the way you smiled at him.

toge felt his hands curl into themselves, fingernails digging into his palms. he wasn’t stupid. he saw the way your body language shifted whenever the guy was around. nothing obvious, but toge noticed. he always noticed when it came to you. your smile, the way you leaned in a little when he spoke, how you didn’t seem to pull away when his hand grazed your shoulder.

toge swallowed, but the bitterness in his throat wouldn’t go away. he wasn’t supposed to care, but god, he did. he cared more than he wanted to admit.

you caught sight of him standing there, and your expression immediately softened. you waved him over with a smile that made his chest tighten immediately. he waved back eagerly, ready to take you with him when he noticed the guy pull you toward him, blocking you from toge's view.

he felt the burn of jealousy run down his chest before he sped to your side, eager to be near you. he slung a casual arm around your shoulders, teeth gritted, and gave a forced smile to his (begrudging) rival. "hey, we were just on our way to a cafe weren't we?" he says, looking down at you with softness in his eyes.

you melt into his embrace before nodding. "we were! i guess i'll see you later then, yoon." you wave at the guy and just before the two of you walk off, toge slides his arm off your shoulder to wrap around your waist and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. he gives a wide grin to yoon before waving him off with a two fingered salute and guiding you away from him.

your cheeks feel warm at his kiss and you whirl around to look at him, "what was that for?"

toge gives you an easy grin, bringing you closer to his side by pulling on your waist. "just wanted to."

YUTA OKKOTSU — THE BUS STOP MOMENT

it was a late night. the night sky was littered with stars and the bright moon as the two of you walked on a empty sidewalk. the two of you were tired, having just wrapped up a long mission and were eager to go home. still, you managed to make the moment a place of warmth and comfort and yuta couldn't help but find that his chest would skip a beat or two.

it had started that way - the more the two of you were paired for missions, the more you opened up to each other. that dynamic kept growing and growing till it one day yuta realized on his way to grab you your coffee order that he knows you so intricately. in a way he had never felt before.

but he had wanted to leave it there. there was no need to complicate things, not in this field. better not to have attachments. and yet, he was always the one who laughed the loudest at your corny jokes, the one who looked for you even when the mission was done, wishing for just a little more time with you. perhaps he was a little bit done for.

yuta felt his heart catch every time your hands brushed each other, his body yearning for even the slightest touch. he flexed his hand out slightly, trying to calm himself down because he wasn't supposed to have attachments.

the walk went by quietly but still full of quiet giggles from the late night delirium and when the two of you boarded the bus, he was wishing for time to slow down just a tiny bit so he could soak in the moments he did have with you. both of you were standing, the last bus of the night packed from late night workers and the two of you were standing so close to each other, he swore he could feel the heat of you next to him.

and then suddenly, the bus lurched forward at a sudden break and you were falling forward, your body pitching toward him.

yuta's reflexes kicked in and he caught you instinctively. he wrapped his arms around your waist quickly, not wanting you to fall while your hands were pressing against his chest for balance, face warm with embarrassment.

he held you there for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest from the sudden closeness. you both stood frozen, you in his arms, your faces inches away from each other. he stood there, too stunned by the sudden intimacy, his hands were still lightly gripping your waist, and you could feel the warmth of his palms through your thin jacket.

he tightened his grip oh-so slightly around your waist to steady you (or that was his excuse) before he gently let you go, making sure your feet weren't tangled with anything.

you pulled away from him, waving your arms in nervousness, about to apologize before he clutched your hand in his. "are you okay?"

you nodded before asking him the same and he echoed your answer, feeling his face turn red slowly but surely. the two of you split apart but still he didn't let go of your hand for the remainder of the bus ride, maybe because he didn't want you to fall again, maybe because he just didn't want to lose your touch. either way, he knew he was in way too deep, attachments be damned.

TOJI ZENIN — CONTRACT RELATIONSHIP

he hadn’t intended to catch feelings for you. not even the slightest bit. it was supposed to be a quick transaction, you and him would sign a form agreeing to be in a relationship for two months to complete the incognito mission and then you’d cut off contact with each other. and yet.

and yet, here he was dragging himself back to your doorstep, bloodied and bruised. over the course of the two months he had somehow grown an attachment to you. after a rough mission, it was a room shared between the two of you he would come home to. the fake dinner dates that were filled with snarky comments, kicks to the shin, and the slight too close contact were all that filled his mind now. he wanted more.

toji had grown too used to the nights when you would come with your right side grazed in cuts and bruises and how he would scold and tease you about how your right side was the only good side so it took all the damage. still, he would murmur the words between rolls of bandages and the scent of antiseptic as he stitched your side together, holding his breath at the touch of your soft skin under his fingerpads.

so now here he was, way past the two month expiry date of the contract relationship, kneeling at the door of your apartment as he knocked while cursing his existence. when you had opened the door for him, he swore his breath rushed out of his lungs and dissipated because fuck, you were still as beautiful as ever.

"toji?"

did he look pathetic on his knees of your scraggly doormat and clutching his bloody wound? yes. did he care? absolutely not.

the words blurted out before he even processed that he had said them. "i miss you."

your eyes widen at his words before you sigh and haul him up and bring him inside to your home. you leave him sitting down in the kitchen while you go to rummage for your (well used) first aid kit and get to work.

between noises of seethed breath at the sting of cleaning alcohol on his wound, he says, "you ain't gonna say anything?"

you let out a low hum, pressing the cotton ball further into his injury. "what do you want me to say?"

"that you miss me too."

"is that it? you just miss me? that's why you're here?" it seems harsh but to toji, he knows exactly what you're waiting to hear. the words that would push this relationship the two of you have into something more, forever.

sighing, he runs a hand through his hair before he grabs your wrist, forcing you to stop in your tracks. "i miss you. and i want you. the past two months- they've been hell but without you, i just can't do it." a slight pause, almost like he's willing his ego down. "so come back to me. make it real with me, i want us to be real."

there's a slight movement and you move your wrist out of his grasp and he thinks that's your answer, but you quickly lace your hands together. you nod your head before placing the gentlest kiss on his roughened knuckles. "thought you'd never ask."

RYOMEN SUKUNA — SUDDEN GLOW UP

ryomen wasn't a shallow person. okay, correction, he wasn't a shallow person when it came to you. he liked you the way you were. he thought you were beautiful the way you were. hell, he's had feelings for you since you were snot-nosed brats. he was a long gone man.

so he really really could not explain what he felt when you had come back from winter break and you looked like you were blessed by some random greek god. you were already beautiful so it was baffling how you had gone and managed to become some new level rank of attractiveness.

it was even more troublesome, because now you had people trailing after you, pestering you with things like giving you their number or asking you out on dates. i mean, really, couldn't they tell that he was going to ask you out? he had only been waiting for the perfect moment all his childhood. and his young adult life. and now his college life.

it wasn't even that he couldn't fight them off, but moreso the nagging feeling in the back of his head, this fear, that what if, one of these days someone really does snatch you off your feet and he'll be left there to watch you. he was here from the start and he'd be damned if he got beat in this race.

ryomen couldn’t stand the idea of watching you with someone else. he'd been here from the beginning. he was the one who should be standing beside you now, holding your hand, making you laugh the way no one else could.

the more he saw you surrounded by these people, the more the realization hit him, he was running out of time.

you were slipping through his fingers, and he hated it. he had always hated the idea of competition. but now, for the first time, he was aware of just how real it was. how real the possibility of someone else being by your side instead of him. so of course, he had to make his move now. as in, right now.

he stormed towards the hallway where your lecture hall was and once he spotted you leaving the class, he grabbed your wrist and dragged you alongside him. there was no more waiting for the perfect moment. no more holding back. the idea of seeing you with anyone else made him feel like he might lose his mind.

he stood you in an abandoned hallway and crossed his arms, staring. he hadn't planned out what he was going to say but- "go out with me."

you gawked at him, your books being jostled in your arms as you fidgeted, "what-"

he laid a hand on the wall behind you and leaned in so close you could smell the scent of his expensive cologne. "i like you. i liked you first, i thought you were pretty before all this bullshit. i knew you before all this, i know all your disgusting gas station snack combinations, i knew you through every weird phase you've had, i know the exact sound of your stupidly pretty laugh and i've liked you through all of it so go out with me dammit."

a silence. then he's pulling away, the hand leaving the wall and he realizes maybe the silence is your answer and then, suddenly, you are yanking him towards you from the fabric of his compression shirt and you are kissing him like he's dreamt of all these years. you kiss him like you've been deprived of him your whole life and he nearly falls to his knees because this, this is what he's wanted all along. you, just you.

[occamstfs]

Conjuration: The Call

Ozzie begrudgingly plays a thinly disguised trading card game and finds some fun teaching his meathead friend a lesson.

Something between a role reversal and devolution! Jock -> Twink and Nerd -> Brute! Hope you enjoy this tale of a wishful role-player growing to dominate a try hard, Best! -Occam

Ozzie absolutely hated trading card games, he missed the boat and loathed being made to feel stupid like they always end up doing. Perhaps some self-reflection could see him giving Conjuration: the Call a fair shake, when a game of CTC was thrust on him instead of the DND session he was coming to play, the man was in not so charitable a mood.

Prepped to play his Druid all night, Ozzie is sulking in the kitchen when his friend Lily, patient zero of getting their group playing CTC again, brings over a proxy deck she made for him. “Heyyy babe~ Sorry about the bait and switch, I thought we were going to play DND too but apparently Mark’s sick and Alex thought this would be a great chance for you to learn how to play!”

His scowl quickly shifts between Lily, her half-hearted olive branch, and their friend group’s surly Adonis, Alex, who winks before returning to set up the table for their game. Ozzie sighs, not wanting to make a scene, he reaches out to inspect the printed deck in her hands. She perks up, “perfect! You’re gonna love it I swear!

The hitherto hater sighs, “ughh. You guys are just going to steamroll me like always! Is the deck too complicated to learn on the fly?” Her eyes glimmer as she slyly makes sure Alex can’t hear, “Not at all! I’ll be right there if you need any help and-“ 

Before she can explain, the man at the table interrupts, “you ladies done yet?” In their running campaign the impatient Alex plays a barbarian which mimics both his stature and nature out of game quite well, in Conjuration however he’s emerged as quite the rival to Lucy. Which Ozzie knows as she begins to explain, now at a whisper, “okay so it’s actually a deck to counter Alex’s.”

She immediately goes to defend her ulterior motives as Ozzie’s scowl returns with a vengeance, “oh c’mooon Ozz, I made this whole deck for you! I found the commander in the bulk bin and thought it sounded like your thing!” Shuffling through the box he checks it out, Loggan the Brain, nice and holographic. He pauses to appreciate how it feels in his hands, heavier than expected and almost warm to the touch. After a moment he looks up to find Lily has already gone to join the rest of the party at the table.

Finishing up his huffing, Ozzie sits opposite Alex who performatively flexes as he shuffles his deck, “Ready to get schooled by the man?” They’re friends at the end of the day so Ozzie doesn’t try to hide his irritation as he responds, “oh I’m sure there’s nothing you love more than beating newbies huh”

Alex takes a few seconds trying to think of some clever reply but after a few playful jibes from Lily and Tim, their fourth player, he decides to save any further taunts for the game. It’s not Ozzie’s first time playing Conjuration, how else would he hold it in such blatant disregard. Resolutely he refuses a tutorial from Alex and Lily. The pair make eye contact as they try to push down the urge to take candy from the new player and instead scheme how they can both use his inexperience to their advantage.

The first couple rounds go by in a flash, the other three begin setting up decks they are clearly incredibly familiar with while Ozzie races to read the little cheat sheet Lily made for the deck before performing a decent opening few rounds himself. Ozzie figures Alex must be running some kind of counterspell deck as Lily’s notes make it very clear that this proxy is a counter-counterspell deck, as it were. 

Lily would never be able to play this deck as it relies on someone counterspelling the Loggan the Brain without checking the specifics, and Alex would never do so to someone with as firm a grasp as her. When Ozzie goes to summon his commander though there's a glimmer in the jock’s eyes as his fingers go to counter the summon before Ozzie even announces, and in doing so he falls into the trap of the deck. 

Alex reaches over to push Loggan back off the board only to be stopped by Lily, almost shaking from excitement as she bursts out into laughter and explains the situation. She points to the ability text Drain: Start of the round gains one “Devolution” spell card. When “Devolution” is used to counter an offensive spell on yourself, put a token on Loggan the Brain. After ten tokens are placed on Loggan the Brain, replace him with Ogg the Brawn.

Hearing his opponent groan from an easily averted own goal he finishes his turn to see Alex scratching his chest and complaining, “I’ve never seen these stupid cards before, are you sure these are legal?” His eyes narrow at Lily who shrugs and tries to taunt him into casting a spell at Ozzie, “Who knows man, maybe it’s not even that good? You should cast a spell at him to see what it does!” With a wry grin she meets Alex’s scowl. For now he stills his hand as they prepare to deal with the quiet Tim as he quickly becomes the biggest threat on the board.

When it comes back to Ozzie’s turn the fun begins at last, launching a spell at Alex who has no choice but to counter, which is of course met with the new player’s own “Devolution” counter. Ozzie and Alex both open their mouths to complain, about the game being convoluted and unfair respectively. Before they can lash out however both men see a token appear on Loggan the Brain without anyone reaching to put it there. 

Only Alex and Ozzie seem to notice the board changing without any human aid, before they can react however they are both filled with an alien warmth. Alex’s hands shoot to his crotch and his face flares with embarrassment. All eyes fall to him as he almost squeaks as his meaty hands struggle to hide the fact that he’s getting obscenely hard at the CTC table, “GrheEEK! AH- hEM” the macho man tries to hide the voice crack from the table, failing to do so they all incredulously stare.

“Psh jeez- can’t a dude sneeze? Fuck!” Knowing they have most of a game still ahead of them no one goes in too hard on Alex, even as his complaints sound decidedly whinier to their ears. Were they to look even a smidge closer at the sscowling man’s face they’d surely see its hard edges begin to soften as his scratchy perma-stubble starts thinning. Alex flips through his bulky hand wondering how he’s going to overcome the pair of opponents, ignorant as his arms are slowly drained of the strength he has honed for over a decade at the gym.

oes Ozzie fail to see how he too begins to shift over the next round. When all hands go to counter a spell cast once more the situation ends once more with Alex being rebuffed by a Devolution card Ozzie drew. Thin fingers go to cover his mouth as he tries to quiet his laughter at Alex’s lips pulling into a pout, looking plumper than usual. Ozzie ignores the flitter at finding that exciting to instead taunt the man looking mousier but is distracted as he scratches his cheek, “Ah c’mon there Aluh- hm.” 

Ozzie pauses as he hears his fingers scratching at, well it sounds like stubble? After a few more strokes he speaks up again, “Uhh guys did I need to shave when I came in?” The party is focussed on his question so they take no heed of his voice sagging deeper with every word. Instead they narrow their eyes at his jawline. It takes him quite a while to grow any kind of facial hair so it’s not like it just sprouted up all of a sudden? Right? Alex laughs and rubs his own face, “Ah Hah! Followin’ the lead of your favorite role model huh! Heehee! Er-”

All laugh as Alex giggles uncharacteristically, cuing him up to go all out and defend his fragile masculinity. Ozzie sits back and watches as him and Lily tag team their fourth player into an early knock-out. All the while though he begins to feel odd? His palms are sweaty, upon closer inspection he realizes his whole form is sweaty. 

Eyes off him he airs out his chest and yelps as he accidentally grabs a tuft of chest hair. He looks down his shirt, slightly obscured by a stubbly little mustache poking out of his upper lip and barely quiets a gasp from shock as he sees a few curls sticking out the center of his bony chest. His inspection then falls onto the hand still grasping at his tee, almost imperceptible blond hairs that have humbly decorated his wrist have lengthened, darkened, and spread into a truly thick jungle on his forearms.

Needing to draw a few more cards to get his target out, Alex can’t help but shoot a couple more spells out at Lily who then redirects them to Ozz. Returning his focus to the board he grunts and prepares to take the hit before checking his hand to find two more copies of Devolution in his hand. He tosses them clumsily on the table and guffaws and shouts in his gruffer voice, “Hah! When’re you gonna learn to not target the man, fucker!” Ozzie reclines once more as Alex ignores his taunts and continues to take his turn.

Half-way to switching out his commander for a card he hasn’t read yet he tugs down his shirt as he feels a breeze on his exposed midriff. There seems to be a volley of new curls stretching above his waistline, briefly making sure no one’s watching he scratches at the pubes slowly inching into a dense treasure trail and almost moans at the distracting pleasure. With each quivering new sensation the blonde curls he has long been proud of darken and recede to something choppy and brown, shrinking back as from every inch of his form curls of the same pervasive brown race to assert his primal masculinity.

With each drag into the growing garden of hair on his waist the urge to vocalize his pleasure grows more difficult to ignore. The stubble on his face continues to thicken, growing into something more than five o’clock shadow that would put Alex’s to shame at its best. Speaking of, as his usual ungroomed stubble continues to fade and shrink into a face shifting as smooth as porcelain he can’t help but stare at Ozzie’s face with jealousy, his cock pulsing once more in his gym shorts and he grits his teeth, forcing himself to focus on the game and not on how Ozzie’s sleeves almost seem to be hugging his arms.

Ozzie similarly doesn’t see as his eyes are closed to be almost obscenely lost in the fulfillment of scratching his itch. Though he feels it. His arms slowly edging larger, straining his sleeves almost to tearing with each meagre movement. He feels stubble slowly growing up past his neckline, giving him a few stray curls that would need a turtleneck to hide as his chest begins to amass new weight and muscle itself.

In his death throes Tim follows Lily’s lead and forces Alex to toss a few more spells that will hopefully be blocked at Ozzie. Still lost in the reverie of his changing form, Ozzie doesn’t even check his cards as his hand quickly shoots up from his crotch and tosses two cards onto the table. Without looking two more tokens appear on Loggan the Brain and both Alex and Ozz clench the table as they are struck with another wave of changes. 

The other two players at the table are suddenly engrossed in checking their hands, as if compelled to not notice as Alex is suddenly swimming in clothes that he chose explicitly to highlight how built he was looking today, his neckline droops low enough that it should expose his burly-hair covered chest. The only thing it shows now however are two spray-tanned pecs that seem to be shrinking.

Alex doesn’t notice as his shoes almost fall off of his feet as they drop a few sizes, no instead he bites his lip and stares hungrily at the man who was supposed to be his quarry. His cock feels wanting his balls blue, more than that though for the first time in his life his ass almost feels empty, in need of something- or someone. He doesn’t put two and two together as he continues to stare at Ozzie growing hairier. 

The once mousy man finally fills his nerdy tee enough that it begins to fray and tear. Similarly do the slacks he threw on for game day find themselves more than filled with meaty thighs and a package that has blossomed into an absolute veiny beast. His eyes widen in wonder as he takes it in for the first time. His thicker, rougher hands reach downward and with the slightest touch his hips buck and his zipper blows out as his cock strains it to the breaking point. Barely contained in his briefs Ozzie has to ignore the wet patch of pre staining through them and put all his energy towards not cumming then and there in front of his friends as the game remains ongoing.

While the two were distracted by their changing tastes and bodies, Tim was officially knocked out of the game leaving everyone worse for wear. Though after another couple rounds it becomes clear that Alex is very much off his game. His white teeth continue to chew at his plumper lips as he’s lost in thought. 

Ozzie similarly chews his lip, champing at the bit as he stares at the shrinking man. Fuuuck, he’s real cute when he works himself up. His inner monologue sinks deeper in tone to match his new voice as his thoughts grow rougher, simpler. Under the table his hand can’t help but go to his crotch as images of some massive beast of a man dominating the twink push to the front of his mind. Drool dripping from teeth bared onto Alex’s back as he arches up into heavy pecs, as if he were made to be under the man, if he were made to be under Ozz- Fuck.

Alex shivers as the table shakes from Ozzie rutting into it, gasping as his own ass fills out. He’d never really spent dedicated time crafting the perfect butt, or no- is that true? His phone suddenly fills with nudes taken of his sculpted, smooth butt and sent to- Ozzie’s bearded face forces itself to the front of his mind. Alex can almost feel his sweaty muscular chest against his own, his fingers curling around hair that inches up from his ass and down from his shoulders. He can almost feel the phantom cock he’s bouncing on before across the table the only player not lost to their lusts clears her throat.

“What is up with you guys?” There’s forced confidence but something is clearly throwing her off her game. Something’s not right. Is it? Oggie- Er, Ozzie? He’s always been a tank, it’s why he’s been so against playing right? And Alex, well shoot that twink is obsessed with Conjuration since it’s the only game or sport that he can beat his- She clenches at her head as she’s seized by a migraine. Perhaps that’s how she falls into the trap that Alex has been setting since turn one.

“Ah HA! Finally biitch! You played right into my hands!” His voice cracks higher, something in the back of her mind swears she’d never let Alex call her a bitch but as she looks at the twink she can’t imagine why. The cocky sneer remains on Alex's face as his hair lengthens into a floppy garden of dirty blonde curls, after looking at the board it fades a little as he struggles to recall how exactly he’s supposed to finish her, “Uhm?”

He scratches at his head and the sleeve hanging on his thin bicep slides back, revealing his pit as the last few hairs remaining of his once proud tuft fall away, leaving behind a fruity scent that will never quite fade instead of the heady musk that could never be quenched. Ozzie didn’t realize he was staring at the twinks pits as they finished smoothing. Looking to his own pit stains on a shirt that seems moments from bursting off his form, he grins toothily and figures he produces well enough stink for the both of them. His canines almost feel larger in his mouth.

 After the song and dance of Lily walking Alex through her own defeat, accompanied by a fair share of giggles from a man who wouldn’t be caught dead speaking even vaguely ‘like a chick’ before the game, Lily heads off with Tim to go grab pizza before the next game. Leaving behind Alex and Ozzie as the game nears its close. Both men struggle to decide on their next moves, or rather if they care enough to even make them, as the other players depart. Ozzie scratches the back of his head like an ape, apathetic to his arm finally bursting free from its sleeve and exposing a hairy pit that Alex eyes hungrily. 

Drooling and wanting to be done with the game as soon as possible the once jock eyes his hand filled with spells and wonders why he has so many? Was there a reason he wasn’t using them? He hesitantly throws one down and is immediately met by a counter. Ozzie grunts as his form bulges larger, brow jutting slightly over blue eyes that don’t quite look so bright any more. He tears off his shirt with one meaty fist before moving to scratch at the carpet of hair covering his torso as if it were a shirt itself.

Ozzie’s own eyes glaze over as he drops his cards on the table, he want game over. His underwear is filled to breaking and he grimaces before going to tear them off just like his shirt. Grunting he punches the table in shock as the elastic band snaps back against him. Veins bulge everywhere across his form as rage fills him enough to rival his hunger for the twink sitting across from him. Struggling to control his breathing as he sits stewing in lust and anger he speaks in a gravely town as his stomach begins to bloat, “Your turn,”

Alex similarly is lacking the focus to continue the game, tossing his hand down his eyes flash as the remaining tokens stack onto Ozzie’s card. Neither man notices as a final line of text appears at the end of the dense paragraph, “If you lack a copy of Ogg the Brawn in your deck, become one.” He doesn’t read the card of course, nor will he chase the urge to read much of anything anymore, but as the ability is activated OzzOgg obeys the instructions to a tee.

Spit drips between gnashing teeth as Ogg stands to his new height. Waist filling out as he pounds onto the table and he grows into a true brute. The elastic band digging into his waist acts like a flank belt as he glowers at Alex and bucks into the table, making a mess of the organized decks as he feels his mind unable to focus on any pursuit other than chasing his hunger.

Alex stands and his pants fall to the floor, unable to remain on his thinned waist, “O-Ogg?” he squeaks out, what was was a tight muscle tee now hangs off a shoulder, perfectly framing a hard nipple and hiding the noticeably smaller bulge where his dick must be. Ogg knocks the table over and tackles the twink with power he never imagined or desired to have. 

Grunting, Ogg can’t control his hips as they continue to rock and thrust as he struggles to position his twitching cock over Alex who endeavors to roll over and present his perky ass. Ogg forces his face down into the nape of Alex’s neck, breathing in his scent, magically alluring and the diametric opposed to the bestial musk that steams off the man whose eyes dull to a dark brown as his stomach bulges into a massive muscle gut.

Underneath, the twink’s mental faculties grow similarly vacant as he feels the hairy stomach scratching against his back, as Ogg’s massive cock finds purchase and fills him with far more powerful pleasure than what Alex has inflicted on many a partner throughout the years. His moans fill the air, rivalling Ogg’s grunts as the pair leave sweat and cum stains on the cold tile. 

The air of the apartment is filled with Ogg’s primal, almost proto-human musk which only makes Alex hungrier for the man he is evermore to be obsessed with. When his face is shoved into Ogg’s jungle of pit hair he wonders how he lived before now as his cock is pressed up against Ogg’s bulky, curl-covered torso.

Eventually their preternatural lusts absolve themselves and in a brief refractory period Alex rushes to clean up the worst of their mess before the other two return with pizza. Ogg of course is no help as he throws on a pair of boxers Alex would’ve sworn were his own and goes to sit on the couch, arm behind his head to air out his steaming pit and continue to rile Alex up. After righting the table and wiping away all the stains he could see the twink indeed goes to nestle up alongside the man on the couch as he throws on some nature documentary.

Alex doesn’t notice as his head finds itself almost immediately in the man’s crotch as his cock starts to poke out the leg of his boxers. Well, when in Rome- Before they can get up to too much fun, they hear the door being jostled. Alex jolts up and swallows the pool of pre-cum filling his mouth before doing a poor job of hiding the rock hard rod in Ogg’s boxers. The brute grunts in irritation and grasps at his needy balls, apathetic to the return of the other platers.

Setting down the pizzas Tim looks over at the clearly worked up pair and rolls his eyes as if this is normal, “Well are you two horndogs up for another game?” Eying both Alex and Tim something besides the Id in Ogg rears up, still seems like there’s a lot left he can drain from the two men. Bulge already inching larger, he stands and goes to pick up Loggan from the floor. Time for round two-

[newobsessionweekly]

The Rookie Masterlist

Tim Bradford

One shots

You will always be my boot

The one where you return home and Tim waits for you all these years.

To protect and to love

The one where you unintentionally make Tim jealous and it ends up with nothing good but a confession.

Stolen moments

The one where you and Tim can't have a moment for yourselves.

Secret signals

The one where you didn't know your best friend feels the same way about you.

A night to remember (Secret signals pt. 2)

The one where you find out your best friend feels the same way about you.

She's my wife

The one where Lucy finds out you are Tim's wife.

She's my wife (part 2) (coming soon)

The one where everyone finds out it's not the right thing to mess with Tim's pregnant wife.

Lost and found

The one where Tim confessed during a nearly-dead experience.

Breaking boundaries

The one where you are Sergeant Grey's daughter and dating Tim.

Long sleeves

The one where Tim is replacing your TO for the day and he doesn't hesitate to give you a hard time. But in the end it's worth it.

Rays of hope

The one where your son is kidnapped and you and your husband, Tim, do everything you can to get him back.

Broken Blue

The one where you and Tim fight, leaving him after his words are too harsh. Despite his attempts to make things better, your stubbornness wins until an accident forces you to realise you need Tim and love him, more than you want to admit.

Let me fix this

The one where you meet Tim again on his first day at Metro, two years after he broke up with you.

Matchmaking

The one where you and Tim turn everything into a competition, including hiding your feelings.

Puppy

The one where you visit Tim at the station and you are way too nice to a teenager he just arrested.

Fire and fight (Buckley!reader)

The one where Tim finds out about the illegal fight and the complicity of your brother, Buck and your best friend, Eddie.

Series

The rules are made to be broken Series (18+)

The rules are made to be broken

The one where you and Tim are friends with benefits and establish 7 rules for your special friendship.

One rule down

The one where Tim breaks one rule after you got hurt on a call.

Three rules down (coming soon)

The one where you break two more rules after you meet someone at the bar.

Five rules down (coming soon)

The one where you and Tim break two more rules when you got caught after an intense shower at the station.

Six rules down (coming soon)

The one where you and Tim break one more rule after catching feelings for each other.

One rule standing (coming soon)

The one where you and Tim manage to keep one of the 7 rules.

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue Series

Something old

The one where you and Tim have been best friends for as long as you can remember, but that friendship tore apart when you caught feelings for him and Tim tells you he wants to propose to Lucy.

Something new

The one where Tim's confession about his feelings for you changed everything and made room for something new between you.

Something borrowed (coming soon)

The one where you are there for Tim when he needs you the most and he borrows you his favourite LAPD t-shirt.

Something blue (coming soon)

The one where you and Tim have an official first date and you gift each other something blue to shield your relationship from harm.

Crossovers

The Rookie x 911

Under the radar (Buck x Bradford!reader)

The one where your brother, Tim, finds out you're dating Buck in a not so pleasant way.

Diamonds and dreams (Tim x Buckley!reader)

The one where Tim, your boyfriend, teams up with your brother Buck and plan a proposal.

Fire and Fight ( Tim x Buckley!reader)

The one where Tim finds out about the illegal fight and the complicity of your brother, Buck and your best friend, Eddie.

[ambunyun]

DC x DP Prompt (2)

Danny becomes a dreamwalker, and gains another complicated relationship.

It was no secret that Danny had a rocky and awkward relationship with his rogue gallery, especially after his coronation to become the Ghost King. Imagine the faces his enemies made when they learned that baby half-ghost they used to brawl with was now the Eternal Majesty and effectively their boss.

That was mostly how Danny, in a display of abuse of authority, made Nocturn agreed to help him enter a specific person's dream. More specifically, the dream of one Timothy Drake-Wayne.

It all started when Danny got his scholarship to Gotham University after finishing high school. Finally leaving his ghost-fighting life in Amity Park behind, although he still had to fulfill his duty as the Ghost King.

In his first year at Gotham U, he met none other than the Tim Drake - local celebrity, son of billionaire, genius - as his classmate.

Here's the thing, Danny made Tim extremely sleepy for some reasons.

For one, the air around Danny was chill. Unlike the biting cold of winters, this felt more like the cooling of an air conditioner on a summer day. Which made thing way too comfortable, his body just kept dozing off whenever this strange boy was around, like an animal ready for hibernation.

For two, being the Ghost King meant that Danny had the traces of all the Ancients on him. Including Nocturn's trace as the Ancient of Dream, which induced sleep. This was usually unnoticeable when you were awake, but if you were someone who overworked themselves to the limit of consciousness and survived purely of caffein and energy drinks like Tim did, it got much more effective.

So from Tim's perspectice, Danny was just one big sleep-inducing spell. And this was really ticking him off. He kept falling asleep in the middle of classes, or when he needed to concentrate on a vital case during study time. It was almost impossible to focus when Danny was around, everything was just so relaxing.

The batfam was overjoyed thinking that Tim had finally fixed his broken sleeping habits. In reality, this just made Tim even more paranoid and drank even more caffein than before.

Danny, being someone who had listened to Jazz's rants about the effect of lack of sleep on the mind for all his youth, immediately recognized Tim's worsening symtomps when he saw them. Strangely, whenever he approached Tim to give some advice, the boy just paled and skedaddled away as if he'd seen a ghost (hehe).

So, in true Danny's fashion, he asked Nocturn for help putting a poor classmate to proper sleep. He even manifested himself as the Ghost King in Tim's dream to ease the boy through the process.

This escalated when Tim accidentally developed a crush on Danny in his dreams and was now concerned if he had just developed a crush on a supernatural being in his dream. Or if he had just developed a crush on a figment of his imagination (he couldn't decide which was worse).

Danny was completely unaware of this and patted himself on the back for helping someone while Tim had a crisis.

[clockwayswrites]

Pair of Jacks, ch1p2

part 1 (please no editing or concrit <3 tired, migrained, had to SHOP today)

Tim gripped his mug of coffee tightly. The wills were spread out across the kitchen table. Bruce was taking notes, which was good. Tim didn’t know if he could let go of his mug right then without just vibrating into nothingness like Bart on a sugar high.

“The good news is, that if we ignore the multiple biological parents, the wills are rather straight forward,” Bruce said. “As Daniel is the only surviving member of the family, almost everything goes to him. A portion of the inheritance will be set aside to use for expenses and the rest will go into a trust that Danny gets access to when he turns eighteen. The sale of the estate will be managed by a Vlad Masters, the biological father of Jasmin Fenton, the sister. Had she survived, things would had been far more complicated.”

“That sounds horrible to say,” Tim muttered.

“It does. It is horrible to say, but it’s true,” Bruce said. “Had Jasmine survived, Masters would have become the first choice guardian for both of them, as not to separate the children. There is also an aunt as a relation, a few minor things go to her, but she was listed as the last resort guardian. Apparently she never wanted to deal with children for more than a few weeks at a time.”

“Will she cause problems? I mean, that could have changed, right?” Tim sighed and rested his head against the edge of the mug. “What am I saying, if she’s someone that Daniel actually knows, wouldn’t it be better for him to go to her if she wants him to?”

“Only if it’s not a momentary flash of grief,” Bruce said. “We have to trust that the Doctor Fentons made the choices they did for a reason. If the aunt was their last choice, over someone Maddison had an affair with, then she should be their last choice.”

“I guess. What was with that anyways?” Tim asked. “Jack… Jack sleeping around is no surprise. There were times my parents were on breaks from each other or Janet would sleep with someone just to throw it back at Jack for something he did. I heard their arguments enough when they were home. But why were both of the Fentons from different dads?”

“I suspect that the answer to that is in this letter,” Bruce said, holding the envelope out towards Tim. “It’s addressed to Jack, but it would go to you as his legatee.”

“Can’t you just say heir like a normal person?” Tim asked. He didn’t take the envelope. “Read it for me?”

“Sure, sweetheart,” Bruce said. He opened the envelope cleaning with the stylus and pulled out the letter. “Jack, I actually doubt that you remember me. You seemed pretty at ease with the idea of a weekend fling. It’s part of why I picked you out. Your curiosity and open thinking were other reasons. That, and your name also being Jack, same as my darling husband, amused me. It meant that we weren’t lying when we said that ‘Jack’ was Danny’s father.

“You see, my Jack would rather not have anything to do with procreation or sex. He’s adverse to it even to the point that sperm donation would have been a struggle. But I wanted another child. And while our first was born from something of a throuple, there was no such thing this time. So I went searching for some fun and a sperm donor. If life goes well, I’ll get to burn this letter when Danny turns eighteen and no one will ever know about this, especially Danny.

“If you’ve gotten this, it means both my Jack, myself, and my darling daughter are dead. While I hardly expect you to be a father to Danny, I do expect you to ensure that he makes it to eighteen in a good state. It’s the least you can do for me listening to you complain about your wife all weekend.”

“Well, she put that pretty bluntly,” Tim said. He was half torn to laughing. It would have served Jack right to have to deal with that. Daniel—Danny would have probably just been sent off to some boarding school until he was eighteen and then paid off to never come back.

Tim liked to think he could do better than that.

“Can you take next week off classes?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah, for sure. I think this counts as an excused absence, but even if not, you know,” Tim said. He pulled his phone of his back pocket to check his calendar and what was on it.

“Then I’ll take off work and get the jet scheduled,” Bruce said as he pulled up his own calendar on his tablet. “I’ll also rearrange patrols. Is there anything you’re looking into that need specific covering?”

“A stake out. I can hand it over to the Birds though. It could benefit from Oracle’s hand anyways,” Tim said almost absently. He had a calculus test he’d need to reschedule, but maybe he could just get it done before the trip. It was just calculus.

Bruce nodded. “Focus on that and school then, I’ll manage the rest. The only thing you’ll need to do is pass along word that we’ll be coming, and that I’ll also be listed as a guardian. Assuming that you’re alright with that? I’m not trying to take him from you or—”

“No,” Tim interrupted. “I’m not trying to be his dad or anything. Besides, there’s a chance that he’ll live here and then you having guardianship too makes sense. Like, if you need to check him out of school or something. Though I guess we can offer here and the Nest? Like, there is another room. Or I could move. I guess I’ll have to figure out where he’d go to school—”

“Tim, breathe.”

Tim sucked in a shaky breath and let it out slowly. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Bruce said. “It’s a lot. Luckily I’ve been through this a few times. I promise it will work out.”

“I hope so,” Tim said. He wished he could be as confident as Bruce, but all Tim could think was: what if he doesn’t even want to be my brother?

[jellyfishsthings]

Endless Conversations at 3 A.M.

navigation , dc navigation

Summary: Tim yearning for a nerdy girl who constantly talks about her new books or new science inventions and they constantly talk for hours about stuff while snacking in the kitchen, falling asleep at 5 in the morning 

The story takes place in a boarding school

requests are open

dividers by @cafekitsune 

Tim Drake didn’t need anyone to tell him he was smart. He knew it. It was in the way he could analyze the most obscure pieces of data in a split second, how he could solve crimes before anyone had a chance to even start thinking about them. His mind was like a finely tuned machine, a network of connections firing off constantly. It was something he’d grown up with—his mind working faster than anyone could keep up with. He wasn’t used to distractions, not of the kind that made his chest ache like this. He had his routine. Work. Training. Late-night study sessions. A mind like his, sharp and constantly processing, didn’t have the time for anything that could derail it.

And then there was you.

Something different about you.

It started innocently enough, as most things did. You were the quiet girl who sat in the corner of the library, your nose buried in books Tim had never heard of, your fingers scribbling through the margins like you were finding answers nobody else could. You’d walk past him in the halls, brief glances exchanged. Nothing special. But then one afternoon, it happened. He’d found himself in the middle of one of those impossibly late-night snack sessions in the kitchen, eyes barely open as he rummaged for something to keep him awake long enough to finish his latest round of equations.

He was in the kitchen. Late night. Gotham asleep, with only the faintest hum of the city stretching into the silence of the manor. Tim had a habit of coming down to the kitchen late, especially when his mind was racing with some unsolved puzzle, some unsent email, some unanswered question. He often wandered into the kitchen without thinking, grabbed a snack, and stared into the night—letting the dark and quiet cool his thoughts.

You’d walked in, all energy and calm, with a pile of half-open notebooks tucked under your arm. A girl who, to Tim, was an enigma wrapped in thoughts too complicated for anyone but herself to understand. You looked at him, that half-smile you always wore curling your lips.

"Is it just me, or does the kitchen at 2 A.M. always feel like a secret club?"

Tim had almost dropped the spoon he’d been holding, unsure if he was supposed to feel embarrassed or if he should have said something cooler in response. "Guess we’re the only ones left awake," was all he could muster, his words just a little too casual, as if he hadn’t noticed how breathtakingly out of place you were in the middle of his late-night routine.

You didn’t seem to mind. You sat across from him, dropping your notebooks on the table like they were nothing. And in the next few hours, he learned more about you than he could have ever expected.

“Tim?” You’d looked up, catching him mid-step. “Can you help me with this?”

Tim blinked. You were the smart girl at school—one who was always absorbed in a book, always two steps ahead. But this? This wasn’t something he could solve in a blink. He knew that much.

“What is it?” he asked, leaning over, his curiosity piqued.

You pointed to an equation, half-finished, a series of symbols and numbers that had Tim doing a double-take. He’d never seen anything quite like it before.

“That’s—” he started, feeling the familiar rush of his brain kicking into overdrive. The puzzle was fascinating, but it was also wildly complex. Not even Tim Drake, with his natural intelligence and years of experience solving some of Gotham’s most dangerous riddles, could immediately decipher it.

“What are you working on?” he asked, his voice careful.

You didn’t seem to notice the way his mind was already trying to dissect it. Instead, you simply launched into an explanation, as casual as if you were talking about the weather.

“Just a little something on applied mathematics for motion systems. The kind of calculations for things like weather balloons, or even drones. It's about optimization—how to minimize error in the systems under the influence of wind currents.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “You lost me at drones.”

You laughed. “I tend to do that. I’ll break it down for you—it's about minimizing trajectory error when accounting for random variables. A lot of variables, really. Wind, angle of release, external disturbances.”

Tim was smart enough to keep up with you. He was more than capable of handling advanced physics, calculus, and cryptography. But hearing it from you, seeing the way you lit up when you talked about it, made him feel like he was stepping into a world he hadn’t yet explored. It was almost like watching someone conjure magic from thin air, weaving a spell with nothing but numbers and formulas.

“So…” Tim said slowly, trying to catch up, “It’s like predicting the movement of a batarang?”

Your smile was so wide it lit up the kitchen, and Tim’s heart beat just a little faster than usual. He hated how it was so easy for you to distract him, even when his brain was running at full speed.

“Exactly,” you said, leaning closer, eyes sparkling. “But with drones, the error margins are a lot more unpredictable. It’s fascinating because if you tweak the variables just slightly, you can make it so the drone compensates for the wind before it even feels it.”

Tim let that sink in for a moment, then nodded, impressed. He had a sharp mind, no doubt about it, but hearing you talk about these things—he felt like an amateur again. Like there were so many layers of the world that he hadn’t even begun to peel back. And yet, you made it sound so... easy. It was that which made his chest tighten.

You were in a world of your own, and somehow, it felt like he wasn’t invited. Like he wasn’t quite smart enough for you. And that thought gnawed at him, because, if there was one thing Tim Drake hated, it was feeling like he wasn’t enough.

The next hour passed in a blur. You’d pulled out books Tim could barely pronounce the names of, showing him your newest discoveries. Some were about math, others about biology, and a few were a mix of historical facts and theories Tim couldn’t even wrap his brain around.

By the time dawn was breaking, the kitchen light flickering in time with your laughs and animated explanations, Tim felt a gnawing ache in his chest that he couldn’t shake. He’d lost track of time. You’d lost track of time. Your eyes sparkled as you spoke, your hand absently playing with your pencil, and Tim found himself simply... listening.

When the clock struck 5 A.M., and you stood up to leave, exhausted yet satisfied, it hit him—this wasn’t just an intellectual curiosity. This wasn’t about math equations or theories that defied logic. It was about you. And him. And the way you made him feel like the world was full of wonder again.

The weeks that followed felt like an endless cycle of late-night sessions in the kitchen, your voice filling the silence like some endless tide. You would talk about everything—science, history, psychology—your brain a repository of fascinating facts that made Tim’s own mental library feel incomplete.

He tried his best to keep up, but more often than not, he’d be left staring at you, trying to catch his breath while your words rushed past him, faster than his mind could follow.

One night, you’d been talking for hours about string theory, gesturing wildly with your hands as if the entire universe were contained in those movements. Tim couldn’t help but stare at the way your fingers moved, the way you became so engrossed in the theories, as if they were pieces of a puzzle only you could see.

“…and what’s even crazier,” you said, dropping another scientific bombshell, “is that if string theory is true, then theoretically, every fundamental particle in the universe is just a manifestation of these tiny vibrating strings. It’s mind-blowing, don’t you think?”

Tim swallowed hard, realizing he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about. He smiled awkwardly, trying to mask his confusion. “Yeah, totally. Just... uh, yeah. That’s... mind-blowing.”

You grinned at him. “You look lost. Want me to explain it again?”

And that’s when it hit him. He wasn’t just out of his depth intellectually—he was out of his depth emotionally, too. He liked you. No, he really liked you. But it wasn’t just your intelligence. It was how you made the world feel like a bigger place than it actually was. You weren’t just talking to him—you were showing him a whole new universe, and Tim couldn’t help but be entranced by that.

You never asked for him to be there. You never seemed to expect him to show up with his tired eyes and his quiet smile. But you didn’t mind when he did, and that’s what made it feel like some unspoken bond.

"Did you ever wonder," you asked one night, halfway through a book about quantum mechanics, "if the universe could actually be a series of dimensions stacked on top of each other, like a never-ending accordion? Like... time could be folded in on itself, and we wouldn’t even know?"

Tim paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth. “Yeah. Sometimes. But... the whole idea of alternate realities always trips me up. Like, how would we ever even know they exist?”

"Exactly!" You waved your hands as if the answer was just around the corner. "It’s this weird thing about perception and reality. What if, in another reality, we're having this exact conversation, but everything’s slightly different? Like, you’re left-handed, or I’m talking about the different types of black holes instead of quantum stuff?"

Tim tried to keep up, but the words you were saying were floating just beyond his reach. He didn’t care. He just wanted to listen.

“I think,” he said, finding his voice again after a beat, “that it’s kind of beautiful. The idea that everything’s connected, but also... so separate. So, so separate, in a way that makes everything more precious.”

Your eyes met his, sharp and knowing, and for a moment, it felt like the universe had paused.

"Yeah," you whispered. "I think so too."

The next few weeks passed in a haze of equations, theories, and late-night talks. Tim found himself looking forward to those kitchen sessions more than he cared to admit. It wasn’t just that you challenged him mentally—it was that you made him feel something he wasn’t used to feeling: a longing for something more.

You would talk about books, or inventions you were working on, or your plans for the future. Tim would listen, sometimes offering his own insights, sometimes just letting the sound of your voice fill the empty space between them. And, more often than not, he found himself staring at you, trying to memorize the way your eyes would sparkle when you were passionate, how you made even the most abstract concepts sound like something real, something worth fighting for.

But it wasn’t until one particularly late night—around 4 A.M., with the two of you sitting in the kitchen, surrounded by the remnants of half-empty mugs and snack wrappers—that Tim realized just how deep his feelings for you had grown.

“You’re not tired yet?” he asked, watching as you scribbled another complicated equation on the back of a napkin.

“Not yet. I’m on a roll,” you said, your voice bright, the familiar fire in your eyes still burning strong. “Do you ever get like that? Like you’re so focused on something, you don’t even notice how much time passes?”

Tim paused for a moment, his eyes lingering on you, not just because of how brilliant you were, but because there was something about you that made him feel seen. "Yeah. I think I do," he said softly.

The silence stretched out between you two, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a quiet understanding, a space where you both were just… there. Tim realized, in that moment, that he didn’t need to keep up with you all the time. He didn’t need to understand everything you said. He just needed to be in the same room as you, listening. Just listening.

And maybe, that was enough.

But the truth was: Tim was falling for you. Hard.

It wasn’t just about the way you made complicated things sound simple or how you made the most mundane theories seem like pieces of art. It wasn’t just your kindness or your intelligence or the way you always made him feel like there was no one else more important in the world than him.

It was the way you talked. The way your eyes lit up with excitement, your hands gesturing wildly, your mind constantly racing with thoughts too big for the world around you to keep up with. Tim realized that, in those moments, he didn’t feel like he was just keeping pace with your words—he was trying to keep up with your soul.

One night, as you debated whether or not time travel was theoretically possible through a wormhole, Tim’s heart nearly cracked under the weight of his emotions. His breath caught, and he almost blurted out something reckless. Something about how he loved the way your mind worked, how it felt like he was watching a comet streak across the sky every time you spoke.

But all he said was, “You’re incredible, you know that?”

You blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his voice, but then smiled softly. “Yeah. I get that sometimes. Just... never thought I’d hear it from you.”

Tim felt his pulse spike. His voice was tight. “Why?”

You leaned back, tucking your legs under yourself. “Because you’re always so... distant. You’re quiet, Tim. You think in silence. I thought that’s how you wanted the world to stay.”

He couldn’t think of a way to respond that didn’t sound like an admission of how much he cared. So he just settled for a small smile, one that tugged at his lips but didn’t quite make it to his eyes.

The truth was, he had never been good at showing affection. But with you? With you, it didn’t matter. You already understood the language of his silences.

It was a month later, during another conversation that stretched far past 3 A.M., when you finally asked him, “Tim, do you ever just get tired of all the noise in your head? The pressure, the constant thinking?”

Tim stared at the empty coffee cup in front of him, his chest heavy. It was one of those moments where he wished he could express what he was feeling. He wished he could make you understand just how much it meant that he could sit here, in this moment, in this quiet space with you, and just... breathe. No pressure. No questions. No expectations. Just... you.

But he didn’t say any of that. Instead, he simply answered, “Yeah. I do. But sometimes... it’s nice to be with someone who makes the world quieter.”

So Tim found himself opening up in ways he hadn’t expected. He no longer felt the need to pretend that he could keep up with you every step of the way. Instead, he let himself just be present in the moment, just enjoying your company and letting your words guide him through this strange, fascinating world you had built.

One night, as you sat there, deep in conversation about the possibility of life on other planets, Tim realized that maybe it wasn’t the equations that fascinated him. Maybe it was you. Your mind, your passion, your voice. You had this way of making everything seem possible, of opening doors to worlds Tim hadn’t even dreamed of.

And in that moment, it felt like you understood, even without the words. You smiled, a soft, knowing smile. And for the first time, Tim felt like maybe, just maybe, he didn’t need to understand everything to know how he felt.

And in that moment, Tim realized something else: he wasn’t just falling for you. He was already in love with you.