#Todd really needs to look at his track record.

[rinasspookystories]

"So, get this, my uncle's got this cabin and he said we can use it this summer," Todd proudly boasted. He was always bragging about how he had access to or a family member had blatantly gifted him some fancy new gadget, bauble or whatever.

Last spring, it was the latest iPhone. Not that I cared about that. I'm strictly an Android user. And then there was that 'new' car his weird cousin gave him when he graduated high school. Last I heard, that thing was crunched up in a local scrapyard after a couple of mysterious deaths occurred inside the vehicle, one of which being his previous girlfriend.

"Where's it at?" Colby inquired, always the curious one. Then again, he was always trying to poke and prod and Todd and his 'gifts'. A favorite of his was the mummified artifact that, according to legend, would grant the owner three wishes. We were all glad that he never felt tempted to see if it was real. In fact, he said the damn thing creeped him out so he donated it to a local oddities museum. Good riddance, if you ask me.

"It's on the lake in Watcher's Woods," Todd answered, pulling up photos of what appeared to be a rather nice looking lakeside cabin. A cabin nestled all by it's lonesome amongst the trees of the forest. "We'll have to use my uncle's boat to get to it, but it'll be the best place for us to take our partners....or cat and party."

Todd gave me a pointed look as I was the only member of our little friend group who wasn't romantically involved with someone. Well, at least he acknowledged my feline companion and offered to invite her along.

"Parties aren't my thing, you know," I reminded. Last party I had gone to, I left early. Which actually turned out to be a good thing when one of the attendees, apparently, had a psychotic break and killed half a dozen people.

"Doesn't your new girlfriend hate parties, too?" Colby inquired.

"She does. But that's why I'm going to dedicate an entire night for what she wants to do." Todd had that carefree grin plastered on his face that he always had. "She's heard the stories about Watcher's Woods' ghosts and wants to do a seance."

"You guys have fun with that," I commented, deciding right then and there I was not going to go on that trip. "I've already made plans with Willow and Ben and Jerry." With Todd's track record, there was no way I was going to end up falling victim to one of the most cliched types of horror movies. Nope. I'll stay home with my cat and enjoy ice cream and watch some Godzilla movies.

getting horror movie vibes from the trip your friends were planning, you decided to simply stay home.

[honey-milk-depresso]

Batboys x reader who is a game/singer streamer

So I'm assuming that s/o is a singer + game streamer from what I can see soooo yeah! I think I went to focus on the gamer part than singer though. Also I could only do this for Dick, Jason and Tim because 😭 sorry ;-;;;

TT o TT

Batboys with a game (mostly) + singer s/o

Dick Grayson

Don’t even get me started on how hype Dick’s gonna be. You game??? And stream?????? Epic-

Dick has played video games with Tim before it’s just that he sucks at playing the modern one sometimes-, so he probably wants to do co-ops with you and maybe join your streams and play with you.

He sucks ASS though in Among Us because he’s bad at lying when he’s imposter and too trusting when he’s just a crew mate. He’s so funny though when you record him while playing with you and your other streamer friends.

“Awww, look at me and s/o walking together and building snowmen! We are so—”

*Kills him* “…” “s/O WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME ARE YOU TRYING TO BREAK UP WITH MEEEEEEE????”*loud sobbing*

Obviously, no, it’s just what you had to do as an imposter and you have to apologise to your sulky boyfriend.

Fun fact: bought your two of those matching cat ears headphones and he’s so sappy, dear god- he loves those earphones.

Also your voice?? IT’S SO GOOD??? You made your own songs and that’s so cool!! No wonder your fanbase is so big, damn-

And he’s obviously your biggest fan! <

Jason Todd

He’s trying, he really is. Because the last thing he played before he died were Game Boys and then he awoken to Wii Games, Nintendo Switches and whatever the fuck those online games are.

Those sus game ads he clicked randomly made him question what happened when he was still dead-

Jason thinks it’s pretty cool you stream gaming content and all, although don’t ask him to play any RPG with you because he’ll rage quit. He will go insane.

Jason keeps insisting on wanting to join your streams in Among Us but like come on- WE ALL KNOW HE’S GONNA START RAGING MORE-

When he gets killed, he calls the imposter a “Joker” 💀 Sometimes you have to calm him down and tell him it’s their role as imposter to do this. Also, when he gets imposter, he’ll kill everyone except you. Like he’s your bodyguard or something and everyone’s out to get you. You don’t even need to be imposter. If you did kill him before, he’ll kill you back though-

He’s okay if you let him play Minecraft together though, he finds it peaceful (on creative mode).

Listens to your songs on repeat while he’s repairing vehicles or hear it live on your stream when he’s reading. Wholesome supportive boyfriend stuff. <3

Tim Drake

Immediately follows all forms of social media you have, and give subs to every time you go live and stream. No hesitation.

He thinks it’s cool you stream games and all, something he wished to do but just doesn’t have much time to do so, and that he has no idea how to start up a fanbase anyways so-

Tim would join your streams every once in a while to play with you and he doesn’t mind any sort of games, he’s pretty good with the controller… well, maybe RPG. Because if he’s doing a multiplayer game like with Genshin needing to join servers and all, most of the time, people wouldn’t listen to his plans and end up dying and then he goes berserk. Only you listen s/o… wHY?? WHY DOES NOBODY LISTEN TO HIS STRATS????

Also, cat ears headphones?? He has one and he looks so cute in it and would ask if you want one too- he only wears those headphones in private though, or in front of you.

Anyways, Tim loves your singing too! Would listen it live or hear it on Spotify if it’s available. If you sing covers, it’s gonna ruin him. He can’t listen to the original track anymore because it’s just not the same-

Overall, gamer boyfriend you got here. <3

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

i watched spto and i'm down bad for matthew patel now so uh- can i request platonic matthew patel x reader where reader works at gman media and they become friends with him after he realizes just how out of his depth running the place and just like breaks down to the nearest person that he has no idea what he's doing?

Oufh I gotta admit the same thing-

......

Being a custodian at G-Man Media certainly wasn't the job you hoped for, but at least it was a job that paid well...better than anything McDonalds could have provided.

And of course, that's only because it used to be run by gazillionaire Gideon Graves.

Yes. Used to.

There was a huge change in management that literally happened overnight--as your boss was defeated in battle by Matthew Patel, and he became the CEO of pretty much everything the former had.

The two record labels, fourteen animal shelters, movie studio, etc. etc. were now all his for the taking.

Never in a million years would you imagine that this theater-obsessed punk who was Ramona's first evil ex-boyfriend would be able to overthrow the G-Man himself.....and yet he won.

Of course, the aforementioned battle they had resulted in some serious damages and a lot of repairs having to be done in several rooms and floors. But if anything you were just relieved Matthew chose to disband the League of Evil Exes. You didn't have to clean up all their messes or fix anything Luke, Todd, or the twins' robot might have broken.

Even better was that Gideon wasn't around to nitpick at every little thing anymore.

That was a huge upside for you.

On the downside, however...your new boss was somehow both better and worse than him.

Matthew was thrown into such a tough role so quickly, and while he seemingly had everything under control with his demon hipster chicks becoming his agents.....sometimes he just looked lost.

Sure, he seemed to like shouting out orders and getting escorts in fancy helicopters, but when it came down to actual business stuff, he kept asking his employees about different things--even painfully obvious things.

You've never talked to him much even before this, although you usually keep to yourself and don't really speak unless spoken to. But you can tell he's struggling to maintain his image.

Still, you don't wanna say anything that might anger him or get you fired.

And besides, he had mystical powers that were ten times cooler than anything Gideon ever had, so pissing him off would be most unwise.

.......

It's late in the evening when you're heading to your final stop before getting to go home: Matthew's office.

He didn't say anything in particular had to be repaired, although you figured there was no harm in double-checking things. For all you know, the TV's wiring might need to be fixed or a screw in the table might've come loose.

Hopefully he didn't mind. You're usually in and out of there by the time he returns from whatever business trip he attended.

Yet upon entering his office, you stood in your tracks upon seeing that he was there, sitting all alone....apparently brooding and monologuing to himself. You were used to seeing him doing that sort of thing.

But this time something seemed...off.

Even his demon agents were concerned and looked grateful you showed up, immediately stepping aside so you could walk in further, hearing his mumbling become more coherent.

"What am I doing with my life? This isn't what I went to college for..."

"Mr. Patel, sir?" You called out cautiously. "Is everything okay?"

"....no, actually. Everything is NOT okay!" Slamming his hands onto the table, he stared up at you from across the table, taking a moment to identify you. You could see how exhausted and bloodshot his eyes were, along with his eyeliner looking more smudged. "You're the custodian, right...[y/n], was it?"

You blinked, surprised he remembered your name. "Correct. I was just-"

"Look, [y/n]..I've been feeling really awful lately and I just need to....get some stuff off my chest. And since you're the only one here right now, you get to listen to me." He then pointed to a chair near him. "Sit, and don't you dare tell anyone what we've discussed, capiche?"

Even though the clock was ticking close to the time you went home, concern over your boss' mental stability took priority over everything else at that moment. So you listened to his demand and took a seat, remaining silent and patient.

As Matthew slumped back into his chair, his whole expression shifted into one of sadness, as though he just lost his best friend. "I'm....not cut out for this job..." He confessed. "This isn't what I envisioned myself doing."

"I imagine it's been difficult. But for the record, you've only been doing this for-"

"I've already lost this company billions of dollars."

You blinked. "Billions, sir?"

"Yes, billions! You know, I-I only defeated Gideon Graves in battle because he would have taken my life if he won. And for a while it felt good to have all of his fame and fortune.......but now it....i-it just sucks! The paperwork never stops, I can barely catch a break, I don't know any of the computer passwords, and I don't even like wearing this stupid suit!!" Laying his head on the table, he banged his fist against it, choking back tears. "I'm a theater major..not a business major, damn it!"

'Poor Matthew..' You frowned slightly. "If all of this is so overwhelming, maybe you could-"

"No." He quickly sat up, his face darkening with a deep scowl. "I am NOT giving anything back to that lying scumbag! Besides, we have a legally binding contract that states all his properties are mine! That means permanently! Forever!"

"My apologies, sir..i-it was only a suggestion." You put your hands up, feeling tense especially as his demons were now frowning at you. "I know you've been under a lot of pressure lately...and there's no shame in admitting that."

Matthew blinked. "You've noticed?"

"I have." You nodded. "I mean..a lot of people go to college for one thing and suddenly wind up in an entirely different field. I know my opinion may not matter much, but...I think you're doing a great job despite your lack of experience."

He shrunk back, no longer looking angry but rather...guilty?

"Thank you.." He sighed. "I'm sorry for never saying this, but you've been a huge help cleaning up after all our messes when we had the League of Evil Exes. So..you better give yourself a little credit, too."

Now it was your turn to be flattered, as you smiled and chuckled. "Thank you, Mr. Patel. I appreciate that."

"Uh-huh..and there's something else, too.."

"And what would that be?"

"....I only refuse to throw in the towel because this company can give me the funds necessary to make the Scott Pilgrim musical a reality." He confessed.

"Oh?" You raised an eyebrow. "A musical based off of that guy you killed?"

"Yes. But apparently he's alive. Ramona told me."

"....I see-"

"BUT as soon as the production takes off, I may or may not return some of Gideon's empire to him. I'm sure that asshole is scheming to reclaim it as we speak..." He grumbled, his attitude turning sour again.

You thought about what you could say to cheer him up without patronizing him...but fortunately that wasn't too hard to figure out.

"I wouldn't worry about him. May I ask who you'll be starring as in the musical?" You rested your arms on the table, smirking as you saw the way Matthew's eyes lit up.

"Why, of course!" With a wide grin, he jumped up onto the table, dramatically posing. "I will be the main character: Scott Pilgrim!! I vow to delight and entertain people everywhere!" He laughed, before he stopped and stared down at you. "[Y/n], may I show you a presentation of my many one-man shows? They've all prepared me for this moment and I'd love your opinion on them."

"Sure." Shrugging, you smiled and leaned back in your seat. "I'm getting paid overtime for this, right?"

His face fell flat. "...I'm supposed to give you guys overtime?"

"Well...Gideon never did, but--nevermind." You shook your head. "You can roll the footage."

His grin returned as he snapped his fingers, causing the room to darken and the TV to come to life, showing off one of his many recorded performances.

It was a two hour long video, but entertaining nonetheless. You recognized a lot of the songs and were impressed by all his method acting.

It's no wonder he made such a convincing CEO.

After that, he finally allowed you to go home with a promise to give you overtime....although not before he exchanged phone numbers with you as thanks for being his unofficial therapist for the day.

He claims it's so he can update you on the musical's progress and "other business stuff", as he put it.

But he kept calling you on your days off to talk, insisting you referred to him as Matthew instead. "Mr. Patel" was slowly starting to leave a bad taste in his mouth.

You didn't mind it, though.

At this point, you accepted the fact that you became your boss' first (and possibly only) friend.

Maybe after he surrenders the G-Man empire for good, that friendship can continue.

[kats-fic-recs]

The Best Batman fics I've read in 2022

As the end of the year comes closer, I've decided to make an Ao3 Wrapped for myself out of the best fics from every fandom I've read this year.

Here we go.....

The Best Batman fics I've read in 2022

Multi Media Marketing Mistakes

Gotham Gazette @gothamgazette

What did Oliver Queen and Bruce Wayne get up to in boarding school?! gothamgazette.com/baidguh24h

|

Oliver Queen @queenofficial

no comment

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Bruce Wayne @brucewayne

@queenofficial you know that commenting ‘no comment’ on a tweet kind of defeats the point

|

Oliver Queen @queenofficial

@brucewayne shut up im not talking to you anymore

|

Bruce Wayne @brucewayne

@queenofficial then stop texting me

games without frontiers

“Pennyworth.”

When he turned, Damian was hesitating at the doorway. His face was white.

He recalled Thomas and Martha’s well-intentioned consolations and chidings -- little snippets of it’s just a bat and it won’t hurt you intermixed with please, just go to sleep, Bruce, I’ve checked all the windows, it’s silly--- and discarded them with a pang.

They hadn’t helped Bruce, after all.

“If the creature is so dangerous,” Alfred said neutrally, surfacing from the memory. “We’ll need to get it out of the house. For the safety of the others.”

“...For safety. Yes,” Damian said. When he turned around, the paleness in the boy’s face had faded. He seemed burgeoned by the impending responsibility. “I will assist you, of course.”

the politics of dancing

After months of silence following his mysterious resurrection from the dead, the prodigal Wayne heir shows up at an unlikely meeting.

“Where is Mr. Wayne?”

Jason crossed his legs, cracking his neck. “He’s not coming.”

“I was assured Mr. Wayne would be here.”

“Tough. Looks like you’ll have to settle for me, huh?”

Comes In Threes

Felicity Smoak has a bad track record with billionaires.

Scrub-A-Dub

Talon's new master has put him in water, and Talon does not know why. This new master, though...Talon thinks he might like this new master.

Frightening, But Not Afraid

When the family is hit by a new strain of fear toxin, safety is in numbers. Unfortunately, three members of the flock are still out there, afraid and alone. Bruce may not be the best at comforting his children, but apparently, he can let his wings do the talking.

((aka, the classic fear toxin hurt/comfort but with a splash of the classic wings-make-u-feel-safe hurt/comfort))

Reclaiming Innocence

Jason Todd was kidnapped at nine-years-old and given two options. Work for his keep, or be forced to to work for his keep.

His life was not pleasant, but Jason was nothing if not a fighter, and dammit if was he going to let the hell around him kill who he was as a person. Or his dreams of growing up and going to college.

Those dreams suddenly came a little more into focus, when his idiot of a pimp accidentally tried to rent him to Bruce Wayne. Poor bastard could have never guessed he was the Batman himself. Heck, not even Jason figured that out, at first. And Batman had practically adopted him.

What would you do, if it all came back to you?

"Still standing, Jason clicked on the folder and opened the first video – Jesus, there were quite a few – and suddenly Bruce was staring at him. He moved the mouse, thinking the video had frozen, but no, Bruce really did spend the first few seconds just staring. (...)

“I… I found the book in your bedside table. “The Picture of Dorian Gray.”” He paused, looked away, then back at the camera. “You were always reading. I can’t remember the last time I just read a book for fun.”"

The Jason Project

Jason had just wanted to see his autopsy report, he had only wanted to know what information Bruce had about his death. And when Bruce hadn't given it to him, he had stolen it. He hadn’t meant to stumble upon the bucket list of a dead child and the footage of a grieving father crossing one item after another off the list.

bad people don't live in our house

Bruce stirred when the bed beside him dipped, and the sheets across his chest were yanked hard.

“What,” Bruce said roughly. A small hand smacked against his face.

“Shh,” said a little voice. The sheets pulled again. “Go back to sleep.”

More Precious Than Gold

Most dragons sleep on their hoards.

Bruce's hoard sleeps on him.

Or: Bruce is a dragon. Predictably, he hoards orphans.

Gifts From the Sea

Bruce, aimless after abandoning his plans to become a special education teacher, takes an internship at Amnesty Bay Aquatic Zoo. His life changes forever when he meets the zoo's orphaned merboy. (AU where the Batkids are merpeople and Bruce is their human adoptive dad.)

I Was Lost For You to Find

Bruce never planned on having kids. After watching his parents die, the idea of starting a family of his own was foolishness at best and an impending disaster at worst. Never in his wildest dreams did Bruce think he'd ever be up to the task of raising a child, and he was okay with that. But when an orphaned acrobat starts weighing on his mind, Bruce makes the (questionable) decision to become a foster father. Everything after that is just dumb luck.

Yesterday's Voices

While trying to take down a drug cartel that deals with memory altering drugs, things go awry, and Batman wakes up with no recollection of the last five years.

As a result, his family must now race against time to find the antidote, while also having to deal with a Bruce who still thinks Jason is Robin. A Bruce who doesn't recognise most of them. A Bruce far less jaded and cynical than the one they're used to. A Bruce who still cares.

Take Care of Business

Summary: Bruce has a conference call with Wayne Enterprises. Having it at the Manor was, in hindsight, a really shitty idea.

“I don’t have your phone!”

The two boys began trading hits, yelling at the top of their lungs. Bruce turned back to the webcam just as Damian leapt on top of Tim’s back, a high-pitched battle cry torn from his lips.

“Mr. Hodges,” he said cheerfully, unflinching as Tim threw Damian into the wet bar sink. “Have you had a chance to examine the chart I pointed out?”

Brother Wanted

Well-behaved boy (10) is looking for big brother (11-15). Must meet up with me three times a week, for at least two hours each. Overall duties include helping me with homework, playing videogames with me, and showing me how to play catch. 10$ per hour.

Tim, lonely and in desperate need of company, decides that if his parents are not going to give him a sibling, he's going to hire one instead. Luckily, Jason Todd-Wayne shows up in the nick of time.

and i'll be two steps on the water

Studying his profile as she pours, the name clicks in her head like she knew it would. Even downturned, that face is unmistakable, and the realization thunders lightly in her mind.

Bruce Wayne.

All the Cups Got Broke

The police officers of metro Detroit had seen a lot of weird over the years, between the violence of the day-to-day, the year with all the freaky clown sightings, and that time with the tiger at the auto plant.

Their newest transfer - pretty-faced, former circus kid, son of a billionaire - might have been the weirdest, though.

his name was king

Everyone knows who the butler is.

The Bachelor: Robin Edition

Gotham loses its Robin and Bruce Wayne loses a son. Tim finds one of these too tragic to bear. In his quest to make sure Bruce Wayne lives to see the next year, he strikes upon the perfect solution: another son.

*

His best bet is, naturally, Crime Alley.

By 8 pm that day, Drake Manor is filled with ten black-haired, blue-eyed boys sitting around the large dining table, looking around the room suspiciously.

Well. Eleven. But Tim doesn’t think he counts.

Empty Graves

Swimming with the Fishes

The Bat rules Gotham with an iron fist. People do not come out of his Manor. They say he has a monster lurking within the building’s walls.

Jason is brought to the Manor as gift to earn the Bat’s favour.

*****

Mob Boss + Mers -> the combination you didn’t know you needed.

How to Train Your Mers

The tank lurched again and he silently begged for any sea god to please let him out of the dizzying, pitch-black hell. His body ached from getting beaten into the box’s side. The water was stale and disgusting in his gills. There wasn’t any light and he couldn’t see anything.

He was so full of fear he was beginning to get numb to it.

He didn’t know what these humans wanted with him, but he knew it couldn’t be good if they started by shoving him into this too-small box and tossing him around like a boat on an angry sea.

-----

Clark is an aquatic mammals trainer at the Metropolis Aquarium and Bruce is their very unruly new resident. Clark doesn't realise that Bruce is only the first of many mers that are going to live in the Aquarium.

Loading and Aspect Ratio

So, it didn’t start out like this.

Alfred would scoff at the statement, about how Bruce was trying to justify the whole situation to himself. It had started out as a simple design, black everything with black outlines and black hood. It got a little more intense as the world went on, got wind of his ghost on the streets, and became scared of The Bat . So Bruce got a little more creative with it, Alfred and him had a good laugh over the name, the scare, and Alfred had a vicious streak of humor that he had passed onto his ward-

So now the suit had a visible bat-theme, an insignia to drape in the shadows and to paint across the streets of Gotham.

It only took a year into the whole charade of heroism for Bruce to overhear a conversation between some goons- some low level thug hired by the Riddler this week- about nothing at all pertaining to what the hell the Riddler was doing in the sewers but instead:

“ The Batman can fly, you know, I’ve seen his wings.”

--

A world where nobody has wings, but people think they do, and that changes everything.

Bonus Superman fics:

Time travelers who plan to kill Superman never account for Martha Kent in their plans. She may not be the World's Finest, but she's a mother with a shotgun, and all told that might be scarier.

darling, so it goes

Clark shows up still wearing his suit—the sixth and final attempt—holding tight onto a little girl’s hand and looking terrified. The same symbol from his ship is displayed onto her odd looking clothes. Martha takes one look at the pair of ‘em and then goes to see if they’ve got any lemonade in the house

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

Leap of Faith (Catch Me If You Can)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54620467 by alighterwood, ErinWantsToWrite He clicks on Gotham Wikipedia with bated breath. And it doesn’t take long for Peter to figure out just how bad the situation is. Gotham isn’t just a city, it’s apparently a hellhole. What kind of villain playground is this world running? How could anyone let it get this bad? Where is the government? Where are the heroes? Peter’s heart swells at the thought. He needs heroes! They’ll be able to help him! For villains, there is always a hero around. He searches for just regular “list of heroes.” The first thing that pops up is a website- JusticeLeague.Org. - Peter, like any 14 year old superhero, really wants to catch a break. He's just a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, nothing special. Well, only if you don't look at his biology ever since the radioactive spider bite. And his extensive track record of running away and deaths in his life. And that his foster-dad is Tony Stark. And that his mentors are the Avengers. And the fact that he was randomly kidnapped one morning on his way to school and now he's in an alternate universe with a bunch of different superheroes that keep stalking him. He thinks they mean well, but they're really weird. Besides that Red Hood guy. He's pretty cool. Words: 23611, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Peter Parker, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas, Uncle Ben Parker (Marvel), Aunt May Parker (Marvel), Richard Parker (Marvel), Mary Parker (Marvel), Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Spider Sense - Character, Friday (Marvel), Pepper Potts, Happy Hogan, villain OC, background oc - Character, mentioned Skip Westcott - Character Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds/Peter Parker, Dick Grayson & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Peter Parker, Batfamily Members & Peter Parker Additional Tags: Not Canon Compliant, like sort of but in the "canon is mine now", DC stands for Disregard Canon, Homeless Peter Parker, Dimensional Travel, Angst and Humor, Found Family, they found him and decided to steal him, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter has ALL the parental figures, he collects them the way batman collects orphans, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter Parker Has His Shit Together, Protective Peter Parker, BAMF Peter Parker, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Teen Peter Parker, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Dick Grayson is Peter Parker's Biological Parent, Peter Parker Calls Tony Stark "Dad", Peter Parker is Trying His Best, Peter Parker Acts Like a Spider, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker has PTSD, Good Parent Bruce Wayne, Protective Dick Grayson, Romani Dick Grayson, Good Parent Dick Grayson, Protective Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Batfamily Shenanigans (DCU), Caring Batfamily (DCU), Mutual Stalking Shenanigans, Peter Parker is a Foster Kid, BAMF Tony Stark, Tony Stark is a Bad Medical Patient, Past Rape/Non-con, does NOT go into detail but it IS there and please look after yourself, Mentioned Skip Westcott, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/54620467

[seatsaverheartbreaker]

The BatFam as Reputation Tracks

In anticipation of the re-recording of Taylor’s best (controversial opinion I know) album, here’s my take on which Reputation track would the bird/bat/cat anthems.

…Ready For It? - Stephanie Brown

A dramatic start to the album.

“Are you ready for it?” In Taylor’s smug tone is so Stephanie Brown coded.

“No one has to know, in the middle of the night, in my dreams, you should see the things we do” you can’t convince me that Steph doesn’t love kicking ass and being a badass hero, to the point of dreaming about her alter ego.

“Are you ready for it? Oh are you ready for it? Let the games begin, let the games begin.” Is such a cocky way for Steph to hype herself up to go out on patrol and cause some chaotic messes within Gotham.

I Did Something Bad - Damian Wayne

Okay seems obvious, being an ex assassin and all but hear me out.

“I don’t regret it one bit because he had it coming” feels like something Damian would absolutely use against Bruce to validate making a hard decision within the field, but also as an excuse for threatening to stab Tim for touching his sword.

“You gotta leave before you get left. I can feeling the flames on my skin, he says ‘don’t throw away a good thing’” feels like an instance where Damian’s abandonment issues and insecurities and self-doubt would kick in and he’d try to run away from the Manor. Dick would catch him trying to sneak out, leant back against the living room’s door with a raised brow and a brotherly expression. Of course Dick would tell him not to throw away his chance at a real family, one that loves him, and would help him seek the redemption Damian wanted.

“They say I did something bad, then why’s it feel so good?” Could refer to later when Damian starts to settle within the family, rethinking the ways he had been taught by Talia to see attachments as weakness. How could they be something bad if they brought him joy and love.

Don’t Blame Me - Bruce Wayne

The OG drama queen to the family has to get a dramatic song. This whole song represents the alter ego of Batman as a whole and you can’t convince me otherwise

“Don’t blame me, love made me crazy” his love for his parents, and his loss of them, made him just crazy enough to start dressing up as a bat and beating up bad guys.

“Just play things for me to use” could refer to his playboy behaviours but it could also refer to his cat and mouse game he plays with his villains too.

“My name is whatever you decide, and I’m just gonna call you mine” applies both to his relationship with Selina Kyle, but also his relationship to Gotham as a whole. He’s fine to be called whatever they want to, but that was his city and he will continue to protect it.

“Echoes of your name inside my mind. Halo, hiding my obsession” Bruce hides behind the Batman mantle, using the inherit goodness of it to further his obsession with the Joker and his need for revenge.

Delicate - Selina Kyle

Something about this song literally gives slinky catsuit vibes, I can’t describe why. A secret relationship due to reputations and alter ego? Sounds familiar.

“My reputation’s never been worse, so you must like me for me” Bruce saw more than just the cat burglar Selina started out as, seeing past her actions.

“We can’t make any promises, now can we babe. But you can make me a drink” is so Bruce and Selina coded it’s almost insane. They couldn’t exactly take their relationship very far due to their polar opposite alter egos’ morals. But Bruce could make her a drink.

“Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs. Stay here, honey, I don’t want to share. ‘Cause I like you” Bruce was a playboy, Selina knew that. But she really did like the billionaire underneath it all. And she wasn’t the type to share her play toys anyways.

Look What You Made Me Do - Jason Todd

I know it was obvious but I could really see Jason listening to this song as his pre-hype for patrol, loving the drama of it deep down. Every verse in this applies to his life in one way or another, with “look what you made me do” being aimed at The Joker and the criminal and Bruce.

“I don’t like your little games, don’t like your tilted stage, the role you made me play of the fool…” would be spat with pure venom at the thought of the Joker and what he did to turn Jason into the Red Hood.

“I got a list of names and yours is in red, underlined. I check it once then I check it twice.” You can’t tell me that Jason doesn’t have his own list that he ticks off as he tackles the criminal underground. It would totally be the same shade of red as his helmet too, the drama queen.

“The world moves on, another day, another drama but not for me. Not for me. All I think about is karma and the world moves on, but one thing’s for sure; baby, I got mine but you’ll all get yours” is such a Red Hood verse. While everyone got over Jason’s death, moved onwards after the second Robin, Jason was still back there buried, resurrected, left feeling an immense amount of anger and resentment. Towards Bruce for replacing him. To The Joker for murdering him. To everyone who had wronged him at one point or another. But it was okay, because he was going to help them get the karma they deserved what they did. They would all get what was coming for them.

Dancing with Our Hands Tied - Cassandra Cain

Okay this one was so hard. Besides the obvious of Cass being a dancer [I literally can’t remember if this is cannon honestly], I think this song represents her background and her need to prove herself.

“Dancing with our hands tied” could refer to her pulling punches due to her background of being raised an assassin, trying not to go too far when she first became Batgirl.

“I’m a mess but I’m a mess that you wanted” Bruce saw her potential and aided her to do the good she wanted to do. He took her into his family voluntarily even though she had made mistakes within her past, and was raised to do bad.

“People started talking, putting us through our paces, I knew there was no one in the world who could take it, I had a bad feeling” could refer to people viewing her purely as a weapon versus Bruce’s idea that she could be more. It surely raised some self doubt within Cass that maybe she couldn’t be more than what she was born to be, maybe she would always be someone who hurt people.

There’s a quiet powerfulness to this song that I think represents Cass.

Dress - Dick Grayson

Arguably one of Taylor’s horniest songs, which seems suiting for Playboy 2.0. There’s an underlining romance to it which I feel represents Golden Boy, and is totally related to his relationship with Babs.

“Our secret moments in a crowded room, they’ve got no ideas about me and you” Bruce and Dick would attend galas and charity events and Wayne Enterprise events and nobody would know that the pair were vigilantes.

“My hands are shaking from holding back from you.” Is such a Dick Grayson move. You can’t tell me this man wouldn’t have the shakiest hands when it gets down to it.

“Everyone thinks that they know us, but they know nothing about…” His alter ego was secret, his relationship was secret. Everyone thought they knew Golden Boy Dick Grayson but they didn’t know past the flash suits and the charismatic smile. The scars, the trauma, the things hidden behind steady hands in public and shaky hands in private.

“Flashback to my mistakes, my rebounds, my earthquakes, even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me” applies not only to Barbara, and Bruce, and his whole family really, but also to the city that loved Nightwing so much.

This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things - Tim Drake

I love this little gremlin, but you can’t tell me he doesn’t blast this after someone diverts from his plans while on missions. His plan or the pettiness that may ensue. Riddled with resentment (unconscious I’m sure) and pettiness, and it kinda feels like it was written while on a coffee high???

“So why’d you have to rain on my parade? I’m shaking my head and locking the gates” he would absolutely sulk in his room afterwards, finding Jason crashing into the mission a headache and a half since the Red Hood didn’t follow instructions.

“This is why we can’t have nice things” is such a mumbled response to anything to do with his family. Dick broke the chandelier trying to show off some acrobatic trick? Jason put bullet holes in all of Bruce’s suits? Damian and Titus let Batcow out to run awry within the Manor? Stephanie hacked his twitter? This is why we can’t have nice things.

“Here’s to my baby, he ain’t reading what they call me lately” is a huge shoutout to Bernard who ignored the articles on Red Robin being caught napping on the high rise of Wayne Enterprise.

Call It What You Want - Barbara Gordon

This song is all about coming back from the lowest point.

“My castle crumble overnight, I brought a knife to a gun fight” offft this song could be so representative of Babs after what occurred with the Joker. She went from Batgirl to being a victim again, a hard thing to settle into.

“All my flowers grew back as thorns, windows boarded up after the storm, he built a fire just to keep me warm” Dick was by her side through it all, waiting in the hospital at her bedside for her to wake up. And he stayed by her side, helping light hope within her again.

“I recall late November, holding my breath, slowly I said you don’t need to save me” The fire itself turning into her becoming Oracle, taking back her power and continuing to fight for what she knew was right.

New Year’s Day - Alfred Pennyworth

This song feels very sentimental to me. It reminds me of the love Alfred showed and held for the whole Batfam, even when they weren’t at their best and made mistakes. It reminds Alfred of his memories of all of them growing up, the moments that were sparkling and filled with joy.

“But I stay when you’re lost, and I’m scared that you’re turning away” Dick would still relay on Alfred for advice, showing up with his chipper grin and a store bought cake as if he had to repay Alfred for raising him. As if he needed to repay such a thing. And Alfred would give him full attention, weighing in as a father would to his second ward.

“I want your midnights” And Alfred never minded patching up Bruce after midnight, never questioned Cass taking up the kitchen table to eat cereal early into the morning.

“You squeezed my hand three times in the back of the taxi” Cass would still reach for Alfred’s hand when he dropped her at her dance recitals, squeezing tightly with her smile before leaving him to join the audience.

“Hold onto the memories and I will hold onto you.” Jason would miraculously show up in the Wayne Manor library one night, caught by Alfred who would sit with him into the early hours of the morning. Even in the silence, Alfred didn’t want Jason left wondering if he had a place within that house. He always did, no matter his mistakes.

“Please don’t ever become a stranger who laugh I could recognise anywhere.” Was something Alfred never wanted to happen to his family. While they might not all live within the Manor, he still encouraged them to return home. He loved that family more than he could put into words.

Special Mention

Getaway Car - Harley Quinn

This song is Harley’s emancipation anthem and you can’t convince me otherwise.

“I wanted to leave him, I needed a reason” The Batman gave her that reason, seeing how their cat and mouse game represented love to the Joker more than Harley’s affections ever did.

“Think about the place where you first met me.” Has a whole new meaning now.

“It was the great escape, the prison break. The light of freedom on my face, but you weren't thinkin' and I was just drinkin'. While he was runnin' after us, I was screamin', "Go, go, go!" But the three of us, honey, it’s a sideshow and the circus ain’t a love story” side eye. What was that about the Bats obsession with the Joker? Harley always saw it, she just didn’t know how deep it really went. Until he abandoned her to drown within their getaway car, being rescued by The Bat himself.

“Ridin' in a getaway car. I was cryin' in a getaway car. I was dyin' in a getaway car. Said goodbye in a getaway car.” Her love and affections for The Joker was her Getaway Car and she had finally said goodbye to it. She betrayed him to the Bat and switched sides, not quite a hero but no longer a villain.

[alg1905]

2 Demons 1 Angel Ch5 Daniel: Sleep and Screams

Daniel

I woke up in a bed.  A real bed, mattress, sheets, pillows. I was covered in bandages. Well, this feels somewhat familiar. I saw Abby at the end of my bed, sitting in a chair, using her arms as a pillow, really

sleeping.  It is quite rare for her to sleep. I think her record of staying awake is three weeks without caffeine. Her nightmares are vivid, and she won’t really tell me what they are about, however I do have a general idea.  I was trying to remember how I got here, when the door opened.

“You’re up.” Damian said glaring at me.

“Where?” I croaked. Noticing that it was Damian himself before me, not Robin, or anything like he was wearing during the tournament. Blue jeans and a sweater.

“Gotham.” I glared at him, he elaborated after a minute, “A safe house. I am not disclosing the specific location.”

I nodded, knowing this would be the only answer I would get.  I looked more closely at Abby, there were tear tracks. Sighing I asked, “How much did she tell you?” I sat up slowly, out the window it was daylight, probably noon.

“How she got her name, Daniel.” He emphasized my name.

I glared at him.  I wanted answers but I didn’t want to let him know that.  I started to get out of my bed, a wave of dizziness hit me.

“Don’t.” A new voice said, I didn’t recognize it. A man appeared from behind the door.  He was tall, perhaps 6’2, broad, and physically intimidating.  He had blue-teal eyes, pure black hair except for a streak of white like Ab’s. I would put him in his mid-twenties at most. I held onto the bed, prepared to defend myself.

“You need to rest.” The new man said.

“How long have I been out?”

“Around 10 hours.” Damian said.

“Who are you?” I asked. Glaring at the newcomer.

“Jason. Jason Todd.” The man responded.

I stared, there was no way this was him. But the description Ab’s gave me was dead on, except for the age. Then I noticed Abby was starting to shake and mutter, I knew what that meant. Our bags were next to us on the floor. I unzipped my bag and grabbed the cooking spoon. I managed to get it in her mouth.

“You are going to want to cover your ears.” I stated, doing it myself, sitting closer to her.

“Why did you do that?” Jason asked.

“Just do it!”

They did just before she screamed.  Man, she can scream. Her head came up looking around, then I put my hand on her shoulder.   When she looked at me, it took her a moment to recognize me, the spoon fell to the floor with a clatter and some more indentations in the wood. Breathing heavily, she slapped me.

“What was that for?!” I yelled.

“If you ever do that again Daniel, I swear –“

“What the heck was that scream?” Jason yelled.

I looked at her, she nodded.  I sighed, “We will explain in a few minutes. She just needs to calm down.” They definitely weren’t satisfied with my answer, but they left just the same.  Closing the door behind them.  Then I just held her, rocking her slightly, saying “You are not there.” She kept shaking her head.

“We need to get dressed.” I finally said.

Sniffling she said, “They left you some clothes. You want to clean up first?”

“I don’t know if I can.” I chuckled.

She helped me to the shower, placing clothes, fresh bandages, and towels on the sink.  

“I will be outside, call if you need help.”

I nodded.  Once she left, I got up and stood in the shower. Letting the hot water soak me.  I remembered last night.  Some fat, weird bird looking man in a black suit had stabbed me, then Abigail dragging me.  Damian in his costume, and Abby not trusting him. 

When I got out of the shower and dressed, I found her on the bed, staring at the wall. Her hair was still a mess. There was rope holding it, her white braid undone. I am fairly sure she’s never had a haircut because the few times I have seen it down, it’s longer than her.  I guessed I knew what she was thinking about, how much she has gone through, and –

A knock at the door, Jason stepped in. “Aren’t you kids hungry?”

“Yes, we will be out in a minute.” I said, Abs didn’t move. I gently grabbed her arm and led her out to the kitchen.

[stellar-waves]

when your heart beats in stereo

. . .

⚠ warnings: 18+ only! explicit language, poorly written flirting, sorta slow-burn, poorly written smut, unprotected p in v, pre-canon, poorly written '90s vibes, first time writing x reader

A/N: This is straight up a fever dream combining two SPF characters in a way, drawing some inspo from fucking Todd Sparrow from the movie Girl, though it's still very much my boy Connor...he's just more into music. Also, I totally fabricated a non-existent record track listing in my head so I could use specific songs to drive the mood. That's why this is fiction, right? I'm just kinda in a "fuck it, just post it" mood, so apologies if this is pretty rough around the edges.

. . .

The brick wall is cold against your back, while your lungs fill with the heat from your cigarette. As you blow out the smoke slowly, you kick your combat boots against the loose gravel along the sidewalk, wondering if you’ll see him today. But let’s be real, you hope you’ll see him today. 

That cute Irish boy with the tattoos and piercing sky-blue eyes. You didn’t catch his name, and that’s if he even told you. You had gotten so caught up in talking music with him that any pertinent personal details about each other skipped right along with the needle on that old, overplayed Joy Division record. You really should find another copy of that album that hopefully just sat on the shelf in someone’s basement, forgotten about when the teenager grew out of their post-punk phase and moved on to something more mainstream. 

Stamping out the end of your cigarette under your boot, you comb your fingers through your hair and adjust the flannel over your black t-shirt, wiping your hands on your jeans as you walk back inside the store. You have less than an hour left in your shift, since Davy offered to close tonight. And the way he looks at you when you join him at the counter makes you think he knows all about your crush, even though you never explicitly said anything. 

“He still has time,” Davy assures, and you shoot your eyes up at him, embarrassment flushing your cheeks instantly. “Relax. It’s pretty obvious,” he teases lightly. “And this way, if he does show up, you can…you know...leave.”

You roll your eyes, trying to suppress the smile as your cheeks burn a bright red. And as you open your mouth for a useless rebuttal, the bell on the door jingles and you quickly look up to see who’s walking in. But you just as quickly divert your attention to the stack of records on the counter in front of you, hopelessly pretending to be immersed in the phony task at hand, because all you need is to look hopeful when he walks in. 

Davy whispers out the side of his mouth, “Told you,” and you elbow him just enough to warn him, telling him to just be cool. “Hey man!” he actually has the nerve to call out, and the Irish guy gives a nod to your stupid wingman as his eyes flick in your direction. You haphazardly drop your gaze back to the record stack, your nerves threatening to crawl out of your fingers as you sift through the sleeves. You feel Davy move away from you, so you glance over your shoulder to see what the fuck he’s doing, making sure that he’s not doing anything to embarrass you more than he already has. He had moved over to the turntable to switch the record out, but not without looking at you with raised eyebrows, mouthing “GO” and nodding towards your not-so-secret crush. You make a face at your friend, irritated yet mildly appreciative, and you comb your fingers through your hair again.

With a slow, deep breath, you take off the flannel and tie it around your waist, fully aware of the heat in your face now dispersing into your armpits. It shouldn’t be this nerve-wracking because you’ve flirted with plenty of guys before and found yourself in bed with an aspiring musician here and there, even found yourself making out with the drummer of some rock band from California that had played a show at your favorite dive club.

But something about this guy makes your entire body flutter anxiously. 

You move around the counter and carefully walk across the creaky wooden floor into the record section as you hear that famous first track of Unknown Pleasures resonate from the stereo. Despite the insane number of times you’ve heard this song and this album in its entirety, it still makes your sonic heart beat a little deeper. And whenever you tell someone that music saved your life, this is one of the albums you’re talking about.

The Irish boy combs through the records, studying the titles that you’ve meticulously sorted in alphabetical order by artist and then by album. With his eyes still cast down, he reaches up with his left hand to tuck his long-ish hair behind his ear, only for the golden brown strands to prove to be still too short to stay in place as they fall back into his face. You notice the tattoo on his hand again, the serif lettering reading VERITAS. You don’t remember his name, but you do remember him telling you that it means truth in Latin, his surprisingly shy smile having burned the memory into your brain. 

You hesitate as you walk toward the rock and alternative LPs, trying to summon the courage to engage in conversation with him. You’ve done it before, surely you can do it again. Why this time feels more real though, you don’t know. 

He glances up, noticing you move to the opposite side of the racks, and looks back at the record he’s stopped on. He pulls it out, looking over the cover art before flipping it over. His lips purse a little as he reads the track listing, and you can’t help looking at the way his dark-grey unbuttoned shirt lays over his shoulders and flows loosely over his torso. The deep blue t-shirt underneath clings tight to his chest, the jeweled hue contrasting the brightly colored collection of record labels lining the wall behind him. 

And then you remember, he’s still a customer, so that’s how you start the conversation. “Finding everything okay?”

His eyes draw up with a polite smile and he nods, returning the record back into place. “Aye. Just browsing a bit.” Good God, you forgot how much you love his accent as it sends a heat up your spine. “Anything spark yer ears, lately?” he asks with his eyes still focused on the records he’s flipping through.

Your mind goes blank, wanting to find just the right answer to his question so he can think you’re this cool audiophile chick with obscure music recommendations that no one else can give him. Why else would you work in a record store? That’s who you are! But your mind still draws a blank, forgetting all of the bands and songs you love. 

He lifts his chin and raises his eyebrows at you. “Nothing?”

You shake your head, attempting to bury the self-doubt with the confidence of someone else. Be that cool chick for him. “No, it’s just…I don’t know where to even begin. There’s so much that I’m digging lately.” There. That answer seems to satisfy him. 

He looks around, listening, and turns back to you with playfully narrowed eyes. “Ye sure seem to love Joy Division…”

You blush. What if he actually hates their music? What if you’ve been reading him wrong this whole time? What if…

“I mean, ye lot play this record quite often,” he clarifies, gesturing that he was referring to everyone who works in the store, that he wasn’t singling you out. 

Your cheeks are still pink, but you exhale with relief. “Yeah, I mean, it’s a classic. And it is one of my favorites, actually.”

He nods with his lips pressed together, his smile reserved and understanding. “Myself as well,” he states so simply before lowering his attention back to thumbing through the records. 

You sigh unconsciously, and he looks up at you, his hair falling into his eyes as he blinks slowly. A soft chuckle escapes off his tongue and his mouth hangs open ever so slightly. The corners of his lips twitch up, fighting a smile, and you can’t help but feel annoyed. You want to see his bright, lopsided smile. But he holds back, almost afraid of coming across as laughing at you. Funny enough, you’d be okay with that, that you made him smile. 

Biting your lip, you start sorting through the records in front of you, feeling yourself wanting to tell him everything. You tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear, feeling how hot your cartilage is from the intense attraction you feel toward this known stranger. “New piercing?” You look up and see him eyeing your ear and the silver jewelry decorating it. You give him a questioning look, and he adds, “Looks fresh with how red it is, that’s all.” It’s not. You’ve had that piercing for a couple of years. So he’s not that observant, oh well. Maybe he has a tattoo that you haven’t really noticed before…probably hiding under his clothes…

You wave him off, trying to mask the real reason for your ear’s bright color. “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s fine.” You go back to your fake task and find an album out of place, fixing the error nonchalantly as you feel his eyes still on you. You look at him, almost giddy. “What?”

“Well, it’s just that…I like yer nose ring,” he confesses, that smile finally crawling up the side of his slightly scruffy face. God fucking damn it. 

And the words leave your lips before you have the sense to stop them. “I like your smile.” SHIT. 

You try to ignore the sounds of Ian Curtis’ voice repeating “I’m not afraid anymore” on the old speakers, especially as those Irish-blue eyes glow in the late afternoon light coming through the wall of windows. You’re fucking terrified. 

He grins, and holds up another record, showing you the cover. “Ye like this one?”

Your voice now fails you, forcing you to nod like an idiot. And somehow his smile grows into a joy you haven’t seen before. “Brilliant. I’ll take it. Don’t have a turntable at home, but that’s—”

“Wait,” you stupidly interrupt him. “You don’t have a turntable? Then why…” you stop yourself, realizing it’s a stupid question to even consider. Like, who are you to judge people buying records without a way of playing them?

But there’s that smile again, and he walks around to your side of the racks, handing the record to you. “Ye do have cassettes, CDs…” he teases, leaning his hand against the back of the display, his fit body fully facing you on your left. “And just because I don’t have a turntable now, doesn’t mean…”

You clinch your eyes shut, wholeheartedly ashamed for being so dense. “No, I’m sorry, I just…I wasn’t thinking, that’s all.” 

“S’alright, lass.” He takes a step closer, reaching around your arm with his tattooed hand to take the record from you. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, feel his chest brush against your shoulder as he studies the track listing again. “And there are other reasons I come in here, ye know,” he concedes gently, his eyes still directed at the record sleeve, and you swear you see his cheeks blushing against his tanned skin. 

“Well, if you want…I have a turntable at my place…”

He slowly brings his focus back to you, locking his blue eyes with yours. “Is that so?” his accent drags out seductively. 

Go. “And I get off at 5 so…”

He looks over your shoulder at the clock by the counter at the back of the store. “It’s 5:15.”

Your mouth falls open slightly. And any residual self-doubt dissolves into desire. “Let me just get my bag from the back,” you explain. 

He gestures toward Davy with the record. “Right, gives me a chance to pay for this.”

He follows you to the back of the store, stopping at the register as you move behind it to grab your stuff. You ignore Davy’s “told you so” smile as he rings up the LP, mentioning your name as he acknowledges your help. 

The Irish guy shifts his eyes to you, grinning, and repeats your name a little slower. “Aye, she did.” He blinks and quickly diverts his attention back to your co-worker, offering a handshake as he introduces himself, “Name’s Connor.” He adds with a laugh, “My mother would have my head if I didn’t properly introduce myself.” Maybe he realized you both had forgotten each other’s names…or that you two never really shared that bit of information in the first place. Maybe Davy was helping to remedy that. 

Whatever it was, you’re grateful for it. Connor. Mystery Irishman finally has a name. 

You look back to Davy as you slip your flannel shirt back on and adjust your messenger bag on your shoulder. “See you tomorrow?” 

Davy winks at you and grins. “Yeah, see ya. Nice meeting you, man!” 

You walk around the counter and Connor follows close as he says goodbye. His hand brushes against the small of your back, sending a hot shiver back up your spine. You were never really a “girly-girl,” but that’s one guy move that makes you weak in the knees and ready to be the damsel in distress. Connor keeps his hand there as you walk out of the store and the cool spring air breezes against you. He slides his fingers lightly along your waist, running them down your sleeve before linking his fingers between yours. Another rom-com move that makes you feel so tingly and giddy. This guy can’t be real. 

He lifts your hand to his lips, and he kisses your knuckles softly. His mouth is warm against your skin, and you forget to breathe. “I’m just uh…my place is just a couple more blocks,” you trip over your words, reminding both of you that it won’t be much longer. Connor smiles against your intertwined hands, lowering your arm and letting go. A brief touch of disappointment registers on your face, but he almost instantly wraps his arm around your shoulders instead, pulling you closer to him as you try not to trip over your feet. 

You reach the intersection where you have to turn right, and as the light turns green for your direction, Connor slides around behind you, draping his other arm over your shoulders so he’s properly walking on the outside. Another gentleman move that breaks you. Part of you can’t help wondering if the two of you look like a ’90s version of Bob Dylan and Suze Rotolo from that Freewheelin’ album as you walk down the street…pierced and tattooed, but smitten just the same. 

Connor’s hand lightly finds its way to the small of your back again as the two of you reach your apartment. Your hands shake a little as you unlock the door, suddenly remembering that your place might be an absolute mess. But much to your surprise and relief, your apartment looks more put together than usual. You thank your past self for anticipating this moment subconsciously, surely knowing that you’d be bringing your Irish crush home eventually. 

Your place isn’t much, but it’s cozy. A quaint studio apartment with a few band posters decorating the walls, mixed with your brightly colored abstract paintings from art school. You flip on a couple of lamps, their vibrant patterned shades helping to cast a saturated glow around your space. Connor hands you his new record and you prep it on the vintage turntable. So many records played on this over the years, both through the large cabinet speakers and through your headphones with the obnoxiously long cable. 

As you set the needle in place along the grooves in the vinyl, you drop your shoulders as the music fades in. 

Connor watches you for a moment, but then loses his attention to one of your paintings—specifically the one hanging between the Joy Division and New Order posters. You bite your lip, holding your breath as you’re afraid he’ll find out why you painted that particular composition. He looks back at you over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Ye painted this, yeah?” 

Fuck. He knows. Your ears burn red as your nerves start to get the best of you. “I did.”

“It’s beautiful.” His comment is sweet and well-intentioned, but definitely vague enough to tell you he doesn’t know much about contemporary art. “Reminds me of a heartbeat.” Now your eyebrow arches up curiously, confused by his interpretation as the brushstrokes don’t exactly resemble an EKG reading. “Just how the red repeats itself here.” 

A smile grows on your lips, and you admit, “That’s actually where I tapped the brush on the canvas to the beat of the song I was listening to.”

“What song?”

Your mouth twists with hesitation, but you tell him the truth. “This song, actually.”

Connor looks at his feet, listening to the sounds of New Order vibrate through the speakers. He brings his eyes back to yours as the chorus climaxes again, the lyrics singing, “Heaven knows it’s got to be this time,” as you and Connor crash into a passionate kiss. 

His tongue dances around yours, his lips soft as he tastes you. You grab the back of his neck, your fingers threading into his hair while you twist his shirt in your other hand. His body is hot against yours as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into him until you’re melting together. 

You breathe against his mouth as he shrugs off his button-down shirt. Your hands instinctively run along his arms, feeling the toned muscles that were criminally hidden until now. Connor pulls back, and those God damn blue eyes break you. He holds your face, rubbing his thumbs across your cheeks tenderly before capturing your lips again. 

He just had to get this album. He just had to be him. 

You tug his t-shirt over his head, exposing his chiseled chest to your delight. Your hands graze across his pecs and down his abs, letting your fingers run along his adonis belt as you feel him shiver with anticipation. You work your way to his belt, undoing it clumsily while his tongue traces your lips and down your jawline. His hands slide into your hair, holding the back of your head as you manage to unbutton his jeans. But he interrupts your progress by running his hands down the sides of your torso, lifting both your flannel and t-shirt off in one swift movement. 

His eyes drop to stare at your breasts heaving under the black bra, and you pull him by the loosened waistband of his jeans, pressing your body hard into his. Connor dips his head, burying his face into your chest until he successfully unhooks your bra without you realizing it. He instantly takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his fingers playing with the other one as you comb your hands through his hair. You let your fingertips graze behind his ear, then down his neck as he moves his mouth to your other breast. The sensation coaxes a moan from your throat, and you exhale his name. 

The music keeps playing, beats made for dancing instead of…this. Connor lowers himself more, bending a knee against the floor as he undoes your jeans, wiggling them off your hips and pulling your wet underwear down. You watch him as he flicks his eyes back up to yours, that damn blue gaze holding you under his lashes. He presses his lips to your mound, still staring at you while he holds your hips. His tattooed hand slides over your skin and follows the curve of your body until it finds its way between your legs, feeling the effect he has on you glide over his hand. Your cunt pulsates hard as his tongue teases your clit, knowing his touch is absolutely electric. 

This cocky Irish fucker.

He feels your legs are about to give out, but you can’t help the pout of disappointment coating your face as he stands up. That is, until his jeans fall to the floor as a result. You reach for the elastic of his boxers, his large, hard cock straining against the fabric. As you free him, he wraps an arm under your ass and lifts you up with his other arm holding you steady. You tangle your legs around his naked body as he carries you to your bed. You anticipate he’s going to lay you down first, so when he turns and sits down on the edge of the mattress, your skin tingles at the thought of him under you. He’s still holding onto you, his hand squeezing your ass as you grab his face. 

You kiss him slow, savoring this moment that feels like it was made just for the two of you. His hardness twitches again, leaking with precum as it lifts toward your dripping pussy and tickling your clit with the hottest tease you’ve ever felt. His hands caress the small of your back, and you’re fucking sent. 

A loud gasp escapes you. You claw at his shoulders, pressing your body hard into him as he buries his face against your chest again, his palms splayed against the side of your torso as his thumbs rub the stretch of skin from your underarms to your breasts. You hold the back of Connor’s head as he runs his tongue along your sternum. The heat of your cunt in his lap sends a shiver up your back, forcing you to arch into him as he drags his lips into your cleavage. Your fingers tighten in his hair, and you finally open your eyes to see his staring back at you wildly. He straightens his back, bringing his face to meet yours quickly and swallowing your lips between his. 

He breathes into you as you grind your hips against him, rubbing your clit against his cock until you raise up and lower yourself onto him with a tight thrust. God, he feels so fucking good inside you. Your walls squeeze around him as you shift against his thighs. Connor exhales deeply, slowly, erotically. You smile as you ride him, holding his face with both hands and staring into each other’s eyes as you fuck him. He reluctantly throws a hand behind him to steady himself and maintain his seated position, his other hand still holding your back as every glorious inch of him fills you. You close your eyes momentarily, seeing and somehow feeling stars when his cock swells deep inside. 

Your name falls out of his mouth with whatever air remains in his lungs, until he inhales sharply through his teeth and grabs at your shoulder blades. You feel your pulses sync up, both of your hearts beating in stereo. 

Connor falls back, pulling you down with him, your bodies still connected as one. You drag one knee up beside his hip, while your other leg straightens down the length of his body. You twist yourself around his cock just enough to make him shiver and tremble under you. He rubs his palms around your ribcage, massaging your breasts as his cock grows even harder. 

For all of the times you’ve dreamt about this moment, all of the times you’ve pleasured yourself thinking about him, nothing can compare to what’s happening, what you’re feeling now. 

You lift off of him slightly, dragging your fingertips over his collarbone, down his chest, and across the lines in his abs before digging your nails into his waist. You sit up more, gasping at the way his cock traces inside you, every nerve catching on fire as you then feel his hand reach up and hold your face. He cups your jaw, sliding his hand down your neck slightly while you milk him for everything he’s worth. 

His hands find yours, intertwining your fingers and holding you steady as you lean back down. You press your breasts against his sweat-slicked chest as he pulls your joined hands behind his head, stretching your arms as his throbbing cock stretches more inside you. Your hips dance together, and you wonder how you can stay like this forever, connected in a rhythm only the two of you can understand. 

Connor’s hips meet yours again, and he hits that spot, sending a sonic wave throughout your body. You feel yourself shake from the overstimulation while his cock keeps pounding into you. You fight to keep your eyes open, because you need to keep staring into Connor’s as your orgasm completely overtakes you. You explode around him, swearing his name as you drip all over his length. 

His hands release yours as you collapse against his chest, unable to hold yourself up any longer as the edges of everything blur. One hand grabs your hip and the other slides into your hair, holding your head against his shoulder as he rolls you onto your back. His cock refuses to slip from inside you as he braces himself over you. Connor brushes your hair from your face with that longing blue gaze determined to stop time and space with you…for you.  

He kisses you, swirling his tongue around yours as your walls beat against his pulsating cock in time with the song “Elegia” crescendoing from the speakers. He moans into your mouth, and you feel him hit that spot again. You know you can’t stop it, the sheer euphoria that Connor resolves to make you feel. You shudder with sinful delight, and he tightens his hand around your hip, slamming back into you, the minor chords wrapping around your connected bodies. He holds himself there, his cock deep inside your core, your hips clenched against his, and his mouth hovering over yours as you lose yourself in ecstasy from the slightest movements. You almost growl as you come all over him, your juices seeping between your skin pressed against his. Connor’s entire body locks up as he releases himself, filling you with that toe-curling warmth of pleasure. 

His now-flacid cock slowly slides from your cunt, dragging an aftershock orgasm out of you, leaving you to believe that nothing else matters…all that matters is this feeling. His breath begins to steady against your neck, and you feel his heartbeat against yours. Nothing else matters.

You feel his weight sink into the space next to you, his limbs draping over you unconsciously yet protectively. He shifts onto his side, his tattooed hand resting against your chest as you slow your breathing more. The room falls quiet, the subtle sound of the needle reaching the end of the record somehow matching the rhythm of your breaths. You close your eyes, the feeling of Connor touching you leaving you feeling content. 

“Fuck,” you exhale. His moan of agreement channels through his hand and into your skin. Your hand finds his, your fingers playing with his half-heartedly. You run the tip of your middle finger along his knuckles, stroking each finger up and down until you reach his index finger. Though you can’t feel the tattooed word, you keep grazing your finger over the letters—veritas. 

Suddenly, your eyes are thrown back open as he pulls his hand away, and you watch his glistening naked body stand up and move across the room. Panic seeps into your brain as you fumble for the blanket to pull over you, thinking he’s already working on leaving now that he fucked you. But he strides over to the turntable, his cock swaying between his legs as he gently lifts the needle off the record. He looks back at you, that sly smile curling his lips up his face as he walks back to the bed. 

Your shoulders drop with relief as he climbs back onto the mattress, reaching to the table next to you for your pack of cigarettes. He pulls one out, along with your bright yellow BIC light, lighting it once it’s placed between his lips. A couple of drags, and he offers it to you. You inhale a bit too quickly though, realizing you’re still distracted by the naked Irishman sitting with you. You blink, watching his well-endowed cock stiffen slightly as he traces his fingertips along your leg. 

“Ye know…” he starts, his accent low and smooth as you hand the cigarette back to him, “maybe I’ll just leave that record here.” Your heart skips a beat at the suggestion, knowing full-well what he’s alluding to. “And I have some other records I could bring over…”

You bite your lip, grinning as he smiles widely back to you. “You’re never getting a turntable of your own, are you?” 

Connor shrugs, his eyes creasing playfully as he starts to giggle. He leans in, curling his veritas finger under your chin and guiding your mouth to touch his. “Heaven knows, lass,” he hums against your lips. And your heart beats in stereo all over again as you kiss him.

. . .

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Leap of Faith (Catch Me If You Can)

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/ScxuNsB by alighterwood, ErinWantsToWrite He clicks on Gotham Wikipedia with bated breath. And it doesn’t take long for Peter to figure out just how bad the situation is. Gotham isn’t just a city, it’s apparently a hellhole. What kind of villain playground is this world running? How could anyone let it get this bad? Where is the government? Where are the heroes? Peter’s heart swells at the thought. He needs heroes! They’ll be able to help him! For villains, there is always a hero around. He searches for just regular “list of heroes.” The first thing that pops up is a website- JusticeLeague.Org. - Peter, like any 14 year old superhero, really wants to catch a break. He's just a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, nothing special. Well, only if you don't look at his biology ever since the radioactive spider bite. And his extensive track record of running away and deaths in his life. And that his foster-dad is Tony Stark. And that his mentors are the Avengers. And the fact that he was randomly kidnapped one morning on his way to school and now he's in an alternate universe with a bunch of different superheroes that keep stalking him. He thinks they mean well, but they're really weird. Besides that Red Hood guy. He's pretty cool. Words: 23611, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Peter Parker, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas, Uncle Ben Parker (Marvel), Aunt May Parker (Marvel), Richard Parker (Marvel), Mary Parker (Marvel), Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Spider Sense - Character, Friday (Marvel), Pepper Potts, Happy Hogan, villain OC, background oc - Character, mentioned Skip Westcott - Character Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds/Peter Parker, Dick Grayson & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Peter Parker, Batfamily Members & Peter Parker Additional Tags: Not Canon Compliant, like sort of but in the "canon is mine now", DC stands for Disregard Canon, Homeless Peter Parker, Dimensional Travel, Angst and Humor, Found Family, they found him and decided to steal him, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter has ALL the parental figures, he collects them the way batman collects orphans, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter Parker Has His Shit Together, Protective Peter Parker, BAMF Peter Parker, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Teen Peter Parker, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Dick Grayson is Peter Parker's Biological Parent, Peter Parker Calls Tony Stark "Dad", Peter Parker is Trying His Best, Peter Parker Acts Like a Spider, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker has PTSD, Good Parent Bruce Wayne, Protective Dick Grayson, Romani Dick Grayson, Good Parent Dick Grayson, Protective Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Batfamily Shenanigans (DCU), Caring Batfamily (DCU), Mutual Stalking Shenanigans, Peter Parker is a Foster Kid, BAMF Tony Stark, Tony Stark is a Bad Medical Patient, Past Rape/Non-con, does NOT go into detail but it IS there and please look after yourself, Mentioned Skip Westcott, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/ScxuNsB

[lonelyfanboy48]

Steven Universe Of The Creek Chapter 15 Steven And The 10 Speeds

Steven and the group arrived at Ramp City where they witness Cannonball riding his bike on one of the ramps. Upon witnessing Cannonball’s skills, Steven remembered his time riding his bike when he met Connie for the first time. But he was riding on sand on the beach and not in the forest, or creek in this case.

“When you said something about gem powers, what kind of powers do you mean?” Omar wondered.

“I can turn into a fourteen year old…mainly the same size as you all.” Steven answered.

“Did you have that power the other way around?”

“Yes, but it hurts. I’ve turned into a baby after holding it for too long.”

“It really shows that growing tall needs more time.” J.P. commented.

When Steven looked at Cannonball again, his bike was smaller than his old bike. Even if he didn’t bring along his bike after leaving Beach City, he may be able to borrow his or his friends' bikes for permission. After Cannonball went past the finish line, he stopped right away with his group, 10 Speeds walking up to him with their leader.

“Awesome.” Handlebarb smiled while looking at the timer on her phone. “You’re almost close to breaking your record from last time.”

“Just a couple seconds behind.” Warpspeed added.

Cannonball smiled as he got off his bike. He didn’t need to try hard like last time but he couldn’t keep his mind off of what happened last night. “Hey!” Omar called to the attention of 10 Speeds.

“Oh.” Cannonball took notice of Steven. He made his way out of the ramp track once Craig’s group walked up to them. “You’re that guy from last night.”

“Was he that guy you mentioned earlier?” Todd replied.

“He doesn’t look like anything I’ve had in mind.” Warpspeed commented.

When Handlebarb put away her phone, she went with the group to witness the person who was in the storm from last night, and that creature who fought him. “I can’t say he’s that bad, but the whole shield thing appearing from thin air…I’m not buying it.” She spoked.

“You know, just because you didn’t see what happened last night doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.” Steven took it well.

“That's true.” Cannonball agreed.

“This is Steven.” Craig introduced his new friend to 10 Speeds. “He wants to get to know the creek and he’s gonna stay for a while. He wants to check out Ramp City.”

“Huh, a newcomer and a tourist?” Handlebarb smiled. “While I’m not buying about his…shield, but for a tourist, we should give him a first try.”

“Extreme stunts?” Steven wondered.

“And dangerous ones as well.” Kelsey added.

“We do a lot of stunts at Ramp City.” Warpspeed filled in, as he pointed at the course. “There’s a lot of ramps to perform stunts, each bigger than the last.”

As Steven and the group looked at the course itself, Steven found it impressive. “You all do a lot of stunts. I’ve seen bike olympics during my travels.”

“But do they do stunts if they have ramps?” Handlebarb added.

“No.” Her and 10 Speeds said.

“Then again, the Olympics forbid extreme stunts…and ramps.” Steven awkwardly giggled.

“Where’s your bike?” Handlebarb asked.

“Sorry but I don’t have a bike.”

“Not to mention that he’s too big enough to ride any of your bikes.” Omar added.

This gave Cannonball an idea for what he can do for Steven. However he had to remind Steven that there’s a set back. “You all wait here, I’ll be right back.” He went back to his bike to head back to his house to get something for Steven.

While the two groups wait for Cannonball, Handlebarb keeps her attention on Steven himself. She looked straight at Steven’s shirt after what Cannonball mentioned about his gem. “Can you show me your gem?”

“Yeah, we wanna see it.” Warpspeed added.

“Okay.” Steven replied. “Then again people are gonna ask me for that.”

“We just started to get used to it.” J.P. said.

Steven lifted his shirt up slightly to show 10 Speeds his gem. They looked closely at it but it still doesn’t convinced Handlebarb. “I found it hard to believe this…gem would be magical.”

“It feels like it’s shoved in there because you have a big belly button.” Todd commented.

“There are so many things you don’t know about me.” Steven recalled. “Granted I don’t blame you for not believing it, but there is always more than what meets the eye.”

“Trust me, it will change your mind forever.” Craig added. “It changed my mind.”

“Yeah.” Steven giggled while letting go of his shirt. “I’ve changed a lot of minds, but it had nothing to do with my gem.”

“We'll see about that.” Handlebarb replied. “When Cannonball comes back, you’re gonna race with us.” She lifted her hand up for a handshake to which Steven reciprocated.

For the next five minutes, they waited for Cannonball to come back. Craig didn’t expect Steven to be in a race with the 10 Speeds. Granted it’s not for competition, but he’s aware that the leader wants more proof of Steven’s gem.

Soon, Warpspeed noticed Cannonball biking through the trees but slowly with another bike that’s attached to his. “He’s almost back.” He pointed to everyone’s attention.

When Steven looked at what Cannonball had from behind, it was a bike, but a tandem bike for two people to ride on. As he arrived back at Ramp City, he presented everyone with his bike he borrowed back at home.

“This is my tandem bike that my dad and I ride on from time to time.” He replied. “However I couldn’t find a normal bike for one person.”

“Cannonball, even if tandem bikes can do more speed, It isn’t possible to perform stunts.” Handlebarb replied.

“Especially lifting a bike that size.” Omar pointed.

“I can still make it work.” Steven walked up to the bike while turning to Craig. “Craig, can you take the second seat?”

“You want me to ride with you?” Craig also walked up to the bike.

“It’ll be our first activity together.” When he looked at the 10 Speeds again, he whispered into Craig’s ear. “Let’s show them what speed really is.”

“Ohh…” Craig catched on. “Okay.”

In the starting line, Steven and Craig in their tandem bike are next to 10 Speeds with their bikes. J.P., Kelsey, and Omar waited next to the finish line to witness the bikers passing them by.

“I don’t know how you’re gonna do it, but don’t get your hopes up on reaching first place.” Handlebarb replied.

“We can still beat you even if you work together.” Warpspeed added.

“I would probably reach last place, cause I know I’m not faster than all of you.” Todd added.

“Don’t worry at the very least, you at least tried.” Cannonball added.

Steven didn’t take those as compliments. With him handling the handlebars from the front, he can’t wait to blow them away once the race begins. However Craig placed his hand on his head with the effects from before returning.

“Craig?” Cannonball looking straight at him. “Are you feeling alright?”

“A little but I can still do this.” He responded.

Meanwhile, a drone appeared from the sky with a camera attached from the bottom. It was further away from Ramp City to prevent any attention while the camera lens zoomed in on Steven and the others.

“Ready.” Handlebarb preparing to pedal. “Set.” Right at the moment, Steven’s gem glows, preparing to use his gem powers. However Craig’s eyes turned pink when he opened them again, witness pinkess again. “GO!”

Steven turned himself pink as he pedaled. With his super speed, he pedaled past 10 Speeds right after leaving the starting line. Craig somehow manages to be part of Steven’s powers but mainly his eyes that change his perspective.

“Craig, we're gonna be jumping out of a ramp, be prepared to do a stunt.” Steven and Craig jumped off the first ramp of the track as Steven spread his legs apart right before he landed on the track. Craig couldn’t react in time with his eyes being part of the problem. With them reaching another ramp, they jumped off while Steven lifted his hands up. However he didn’t turn to see Craig from behind, who’s still holding onto his handlebar at all times. 

They landed on the ground as they reached the last ramp before the finish line. Craig moved his head to see what's in front of him. But with the pinkness, he kept holding onto his handlebar to keep himself from falling off. Even while using his pedals from behind, Steven’s power is what’s controlling his speed despite not being a gem himself.

When they jumped on the final ramp, Craig accidently lifted his body up in the air while Steven did the same. He didn’t jump however, as if his body was made out of air like blowing a balloon. “Whoa!” He reacted while witnessing his perspective upside down in pink. The drone captures the two lifting themselves higher in the air.

They finally landed on the ground after they sat down from their stunt. They went past the finish line while their friends were stunned in disbelief. “Holy cow.” J.P.’s jaw hung open.

From the starting line, Cannonball, Handlebarb, and Warpspeed didn’t move an inch after what they witnessed. They even saw Steven and Craig up in the air with Steven’s gem powers come into play. “Now do you believe it?” Cannonball spoked.

“Yeah, definitely believe it.” Handlebarb responded.

“He definitely beat my record.” Warpspeed added.

As Steven got off his bike, Craig’s vision went back to normal the moment he stopped. “It really felt like we were speeding like Slide The Ferret but at pink speed.”

“That’s because it was my gem powers.” Steven smiled. “It really comes into use whenever I’m late to something.”

As Craig got off of the bike, his friends walked up to them. “That was awesome!” Kelsey cheered. “You two were up in the sky!”

“To tell you the truth, if you were in extreme bike sports, people would have to rely on replaying what you did eighty five percent of the time.” Omar commented.

“You're right. If there’s one thing I have than bike stunters is more speed…but I would be disqualified if they find out about my powers.”

As the group laughed at each other from Steven and Craig’s bike performance, the drone flew away, capturing everything that happened but it was far from done. “So can I pick the place we should go next?” J.P. wondered. “It’ll be really fun.”

“No problem but we should probably let 10 Speeds know about my speed power.”

“Yeah, they’re definitely not gonna sleep knowing that their records have been broken forever.” Omar commented.

But before they headed to the starting line, Todd passed the finish line. “I made it in second place!” He cheered. “I’m no longer in last place!”

As he went past the group, it took them by surprise. “You definitely made one biker happy when it came to hope.” Craig smiled.

“Guarantee this is the first time one of them will experience last place.” Steven finished. “But then again, first time for everyone and everything.”

[db-reviews]

#155 - The Window Of Life - Pendragon (1993)

Neo-prog, for me, is never a complex genre that defies expectations, nay ‘less we talk about Marillion or IQ. Among the vast but seemingly dim stars of the 90s Neo Prog scene, with groups like Arena, Collage, Abraxas, and Pallas, one, I think stands at the most mysterious, and the most introspective of which, has to go to Pendragon. While they existed during the hay-day of Neo Prog in the 80s, they really got on their own track in the 90s, specifically with the release of ‘The World’. There, they showcased their full capabilities to strip away from the more standard pop sound of The Jewel and Kowtow, and instead showcase a bit more inspiration from the past. ‘The World’ was what really pushed Pendragon to the window of new frontiers, and the key to that window lay in wake of their fourth album, ‘The Window Of Life’.

If there is one obvious I’d like to get out of the way, it is that the sound Pendragon likes to use here on this record is very unoriginal to put it bluntly. The sound found here is definitely reminiscent of styles of Genesis, Yes, and some slight twiddling of Camel and Todd Rundgren’s Utopia. Heck, in The Walls of Babylon, after the 2+ minutes of synths and guitars, has a part that sounds very much like the beginning of Watcher Of The Skies from Foxtrot. This isn’t a hit on Pendragon as many Neo Prog bands have done these similar heavy inspirations of songs (Supper’s Ready sixth part of Apocalypse in 9/8 comes to mind with Marillion’s Grendel and IQ’s Harvest of Souls taking massive inspiration from such), but it is something to disclose as for anyone interested in a more, I guess, newer sounding Prog Rock album.

Despite the album’s less than new sounding elements, Pendragon showcases that they can absolutely make up for that fact by showing off very moving instrumentals in each song. Clive Nolan’s keyboards, in tandem with Nick Barrett’s guitars, absolutely sells this album in my humble opinion. After 3 albums of developing their sound, Pendragon absolutely masters these moody elements that sound very much like 80s Arena Rock of Journey and Boston, but put through the Progressive Rock ringer to make their more symphonic status into a newer element, and so, whilst the sound may not be “original”, the primary acts the band deploys sure makes up for it, at least for me. This is why I love classic Neo Prog like IQ and Marillion; the meshing of old Symphonic Prog with more famous and popular genres like Pop, Punk, and AOR just creates for an interesting, but very rewarding possibility.

I should also talk about Fudge Smith’s drumming styles, because they are good, like, really good. I’d say they could rival Phil Collins in his prime, as this expert of a musician just crafts these magical drum beats that work so well within the stratosphere of the album’s magic. Really, the best part of the album is just the very magical array of beautiful instrumentals.

I will say though, that I am really not the hugest fan of Nick’s singing. I know he is putting his all, but I cannot help but find him a bit monotone and a little lifeless. I think he needs MORE emotion and MORE drive in his vocals. Get more rowdy and raise your voice more, or get more cryptic when the moment shines with lower vocals. Create a varied dynamic to get the listener more pumped up. I think he should try a little more is what I say.

I also think the bass is a little nonexistent. I swear, on my first listen, I didn’t even know there was a bass until I looked it up. I am sure Peter Gee’s bass is very good, but I never once heard it until I kinda noticed it in some tracks by taking a keen ear. It sounds way too muted, especially in conjunction with Nick’s guitars and Nolan’s keyboards. It is a bit of a shame to be honest.

Even though I find that this album doesn’t always have the highest points of interest in the musical department, Pendragon’s ‘The Window of Life’ is one that is a great showcase of more Neo Prog music. Lots of beautiful workings on the guitar and keyboards, and the really tight drumming just bleeds masterfully. The album is a little imperfect as discussed before, but nevertheless it is still a fantastic showcase of one of Neo Prog’s more prolific bands of the 90s through early 2000s.

4.5/5

[rynne311]

The Gun

Summary:  There are far too many ways for the meet the family date to go wrong, especially when there are lost guns and misunderstandings involved.

Word Count: 1136

You had desperately wanted to make a good impression.  You'd never really made it to the 'meet the family' phase of the relationship before and you didn't want to mess this up.  It was intimidating enough sitting in the expansive drawing room with all eyes on you.  The idea that just by opening your mouth you'd probably end up putting your foot in there was daunting.

Dinner had seemed to go well enough.  None of the potential fights Jason had warned you about had actually happened, which you couldn't tell if that was a good sign or not.  If they had fully welcomed you into the family, they would let their guard down and let stupid fights break out, but you tried to remind yourself that this was only a first meeting and that evenuality would come along before you knew it.  

You didn't have time to over think it before your phone started ringing, and knowing that work didn't call unless it was important, you excused yourself from the room to answer.  Jason studied your face as you excused yourself, trying to gauge if this was going to be a 'we get to leave' kind of work call.

"What do you mean you lost the gun?" You questioned as you rounded the corner out of the doorway.

"And you're sure someone didn't just leave it on a shelf?"  Your voice carried no matter how much you tried to hush.

Jason could sense Bruce's eyes narrowing in your direction. It didn't take much for him to know what the man was thinking.  Jason had already heard enough of it with his own track record.  

"You're just going to bring someone here who apparently has such a blasé attitude about deadly weapons that they appear to be routinely left around for anyone to find and discharge," Bruce lectured.  "It's bad enough that you disregard my feelings on the matter, but it is another thing entirely to bring strangers here who obviously do the same thing."

It seemed the writing was on the wall, and judgements already made.  He was disappointed, but not surprised.  The night had gone far too well, and it was only fitting in his mind that Bruce would take something good in his life and twist it into something terrible.

"And you wonder why I've been in this relationship for well over two years, and this is only the first time I've brought Y/N here. So definitely not just a stranger," Jason countered.  He could feel the anger rising, and as much as he was trying to keep things relatively sane in the manor for your visit, he couldn't help as his voice kept growing. "You just love to take things out of context and villainize them, especially if it has anything to do with me and anything I love. I mean, c'mon Bruce, you really live to the expectation on this, I just can't tell if it's living up to it or down to it."

Jason's bellowing had you abruptly hanging up the phone running back into the drawing room.  You'd only seen him this angry a couple of times, but this time was different, you could see the pain it was stemming from standing right in front of him.  There was always a distance to it, something he only had to prove to and remind himself, but this time was different.  This time the manifestation of his personal shortcomings stood chest to chest to him in icy judgement.

"I think there may have been a misunderstanding," you hurried to begin to explain. Your voice grew progressively more stern, more protective. "I manage a store, and sometimes I or some of my associates accidentally leave our scanner gun on a shelf while changing stock around or checking inventory.  I make sure the entire store takes safety very seriously."

Jason knew what was going to happen next if he didn't intervene.  It was a self-fulfilling prophecy he supposed.  He had warned you of the high probability of a fight breaking out during your visit, but he had been sure it would have been between his brothers, not you going toe to toe with Bruce.  Without interrupting you, he started guiding you to the door.  His hands on your shoulders only served to embolden you.

"You should know part of the reason I wanted to come here and meet you tonight was to thank you for the generous Wayne Foundation scholarship I was awarded for college. I only got through two years before my mom got sick, and because it was just the two of us, I left school and started working in a store, the one I manage now, to help keep everything going. But yes, thank you for the opportunity, however ultimately unfulfilled it may be."  You couldn't veil the sarcasm in your voice anymore.  If you were to be judged, you were going to play into it.  You weren't necessarily proud that you were willing to stoop that low, but here you were taking satisfaction in the way Bruce's face fell slack as you got the last word in.

It was quiet as the car passed through the long driveway from the manor back to the main road.  You both needed to cool off and put some distance between yourselves and the house before breaking the silence.  You were more than a little surprised to look over to the driver's seat and see that Jason wasn't brooding. 

"He's probably still standing there dumbfounded," he speculated in awe. "Nobody ever has the nerve to stand up to him like that."

"You were holding your own when I walked back in," you countered.

"Okay, no one who hasn't had to endure living with him has ever had the nerve to stand up to him like that," he corrected himself.  "Once he's over the shock, he's going to respect the hell out of you.  You might even end up with a job offer."

You didn't hide the small smile as you turned to watch the passing streetlights.  It had been a long time since you had impressed someone like that, or at least a long time since you felt that you impressed someone, Jason is the first to tell you how you impress him every day.  You glanced back to him and rebutted, "I actually like my job. There's no way I'm leaving just because I made a rich man feel like an ass."

"I know all of that, and that's what'll make you turning it down so much better," he mused.

You didn't miss how he chuckled and smiled to himself at the thought.  There was a complicated relationship there you only hoped to one day understand. In the meantime, you had no doubt you and Jason could be enough for each other. 

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[chibinightowl]

How about a one word prompt with 'Manhandling'?

Had a tough time with this until an experience on the road the other day gave me a jolt of inspiration.

~~

Tim sat on the curb, trying to catch his breath and steady the tremble in his hands. This wasn't the first time he'd been in a car accident, but it was the first time it had happened while he was in civvies and driving a vehicle he'd borrowed from Bruce.

The feel of it was completely different. He was no stranger to putting himself in danger, but normally, he did so with body armor and a cowl to protect his head. This time...

A paramedic knelt in front of him, a gentle smile on his face.

It was a nice smile.

"Hi there," the man said. "You're the driver of the car that bit the big one, right?"

Tim looked past him to the absolute wreck that was the Maserati he'd been driving. A car like that, everyone was going to think this was his fault. "Yeah," he answered, taking another deep breath.

"Was there anyone else in there with you?"

"No. Just me. I'm on my way to work." Or was might be the operative word here.

"Okay. Can I ask your name?"

"Tim Drake-Wayne."

The medic huffed a small laugh. "That's a mouthful. Mind if I just call you Tim?"

"Sure."

"I'm Jason. I need to ask you a few questions, okay?"

Tim nodded, gaze returning to the medic. He was handsome. And muscular. Definitely filled out that GCFD t-shirt nicely.

Jason chuckled again. "Where do you hurt?"

It took a moment for Tim to respond. "My head, mostly. Though I think the rest of me is just waiting to join the party."

"I saw your airbag deployed. Were you wearing a seatbelt?"

No sooner than he mentioned it, there was a searing ache across Tim's chest from where the should strap had dug in and held him in place during the crash. He reached up and rubbed the front of his dress shirt, wincing. "I was."

"You got out of the car on your own?"

Tim nodded again. "Kicked out the window on the passenger side."

"Would you say you're fully mobile then?"

How he answered this question would determine whether he'd be riding in an ambulance or catching another ride home. But now that the shock was wearing off, he did hurt, especially on his left side where he'd only just healed from a dislocated shoulder. This wouldn't be in any of his official records, but a trip to the hospital would reveal it in no time. Still, he could refuse to go. He'd have to sign a waiver or something. It wasn't like Jason would manhandle him into going.

Though that could certainly be fun in other situations.

Jason laughed quietly and held up a penlight, flashing it in Tim's eyes. "Considering what's coming out of your mouth right now, I think a hospital is exactly where you need to be, Tim."

"Huh?" He blinked against the bright light.

"Did you know your eyes aren't dilating correctly?"

Blushing, Tim closed them just to be ornery. "You think I have a concussion."

"Oh, I know you have a concussion." Jason took hold of his arm and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around it. "The thing is, I don't know how bad it is. You really should get your head checked out instead of checking me out."

The comment made Tim laugh, which was bad because it brought with it a world of hurt. "What if I'd rather check you out instead of the inside of an MRI?"

Oh crap. Did he actually just say that? Damn, he must be concussed.

"Well, I am a lot easier on the eyes." The cuff tightened and Tim dared to open his just in time to catch the grin on Jason's face. "But if you decide to be stubborn about it, then I won't let you take me out for coffee when I'm off duty."

Tim gaped because that was all he could really do. Was this actually happening to him? Stephanie and Tam would have a field day if he ever decided to tell them about it. "Are you serious?"

Jason nodded. "If it means you'll go to the hospital and get your head looked at after a crash like that, then yeah."

"It wasn't my fault," Tim found himself saying.

"I know."

"How?"

"When you've been to as many accident scenes as I have, you learn a few things." Jason removed the cuff and gave Tim a level look. "Do you have someone to drive you or do you want us to give you a lift?"

Tempting as it was to call someone, it would take them forever to get here with the traffic backed up the way it was. Still, there was another option. He reached into his pocket and withdrew his phone. The screen was cracked, but still functioning. He swiped at the screen and started texting. "I have a private medical facility I go to. Is that going to be a problem?" he asked Jason.

"Nope. Just give me the address and I'll pass it on to the driver. I'll be in back with you to make sure you don't lose consciousness on us."

The screen flashed an affirmative reply and Tim lowered it. "Then I'm all yours. Take me to your ruler."

With another laugh, Jason set a clipboard Tim didn't notice before to the side and rose to his feet. "Alright then. Wait here while I get your chariot, my liege."

~*~

It was a month before Tim finally tracked the handsome paramedic down. He almost didn't do it, but after the tenth time of pulling up the small file he'd created on Jason Todd, he decided to just do it.

The worst Jason would say was no.

"I believe I owe you a coffee." He held out a large to-go cup of Americano.

Jason blinked. "I'm surprised you remember that."

"I did have a concussion. Thanks for making me do something about it."

"Sure thing. But you didn't have to bring me coffee."

"You're seeing someone?" Tim already knew he wasn't. Stepping on others toes wasn't his thing.

"No, but..." Jason rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away. "I actually can't stand coffee."

"Oh." Tim looked at the cup in his hand, then back at Jason, and took a large sip. Like he was letting good coffee to go to waste. "In that case, lunch?"

Jason laughed and shook his head. "You're persistent, aren't you?"

"Sometimes." Tim shrugged. "You're off duty and enough time has passed that my accident is no longer plastered all over the news. Seriously though, if you're not interested, then I won't push. But I really would like to take you out for lunch, if you'll let me."

The medic bit his lip and wow, did that ever make Tim's insides go all squirmy. "Fine," Jason said after a moment. "Just not somewhere I need to dress up for."

Tim beamed even as he tried to hide it. Why couldn't he be cool like Dick for once in his life? "Awesome. And no, you don't need to dress up. All the good places I know are definitely the jeans and t-shirt types."

"Works for me."

[forestlingincorporated]

Teen Titans #29

So, one of my favorite types of fics to read is Different First Meeting fics between Jason and Tim. I looooove reading Enemies To Caretaker, of which I fed handsomely on fairly recently. Big Brother Jason fics give me warm fuzzies, and Tim Drake needs a hug, and I feel like if these two actually got to know each other and worked past their preconceptions, they’d get along surprisingly well. And Still A Jason!Robin Fanboy Tim Drake is just a fun concept. 

Also, it just FEELS right for the middle siblings to band together after Damian comes along, lets get those abandonment issues in the party. 

So, for mysterious and very secret TimKon Week 2021 reasons, I was rereading some Teen Titans, and I stumbled over the Original Tim+Jason First Meeting, and I just sort of wanted to talk about some interesting things I found in there rereading it after several years. 

First thing right off the bat, when reading fics, normally it’s either the Core Four at the tower that Jason puts to sleep, or it’s Tim alone for the night. In the comic, none of Tim’s close friends are even at the tower, Jason waits for Bart and Cassie to leave, and Conner actually hasn’t come around for an in-universe month, because this is after the Superboy’s Birthright arc where Lex mind controls Conner. 

The people Jason knocks out were his own teammates when he was a Titan. He specifically says he never got to work with Beast Boy or Cyborg directly, so he doesn’t feel bad electrocuting them, but he feels bad putting Raven under much more gently because she used to worry for him. 

Tim has just gotten off the phone with Bruce when Jason shows up. It seems like Bruce might’ve been picking Tim up, but something’s come up with Martian Manhunter going missing, so Tim tells him he’ll catch a ride with Cyborg. 

This is actually really interesting to me, because it’s a small moment of Bruce letting Tim down. It’s a conversation he’s probably had with his biological father many times when Jack’s canceled on him. 

Gonna acknowledge this abomination real quick. This is So Stupid, and I’m glad as a fandom we just all agreed Jason didn’t do this. It makes me ask so many questions. Where did he get that oversized Robin costume? Why’d he tear off his perfectly good clothes? Why did he do this? Why the yellow tights? WHY? 

A lot of things are actually happening here that are actually Really Interesting if you just look past the stupid fucking outfit. Because this comic actually flew really close to greatness, they just ended up dropping the ball by not continuing to do more with it. 

First off, Jason doesn’t beat around the bush. He’s immediately like “yeah, yeah, yeah, Red Hood, whatever, I’m Jason Todd, bitch! Fight me.” 

Secondly, Jason’s done his homework. He knows A LOT about Tim. He knows his name, he knows he has a dad, he knows he went to prep school, and he knows the story of how Tim became Robin. How he GOT that last bit of information, I’d honestly like to know. But even HAVING the information isn’t enough; he’s still letting his preconceived ideas get in the way. The surface level information about Tim’s life only served to fuel his jealousy and anger (thanks, Lazerus Pitt!). He’s so focused on Tim’s privilege that he’s looked past evidence of hardship; if he’s done this much research on Tim, he’s no doubt seen records of multiple boarding schools, lengthy travel records, news reports, a death certificate.... He can’t even bring himself to BELIEVE parts of Tim’s story that aren’t lining up with his world view, like HOW he became Robin. 

Jason has convinced himself that what he’s discovered about Tim and the period of time when Jason was dead - the fact that Bruce was spiraling after his death, that his family mourned him, that Tim had to step up to the plate at a weird suicide prevention buddy system - is all a lie. Despite the fact that he’s beating Tim’s ass, he speaks to him with the assumption that Tim’s a child who’s been manipulated and lied to. 

Meanwhile, it must be SO PAINFUL for Tim to hear Jason say these things: I bet he said the same thing to you he said to me, didn’t he? That you have the talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in his war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light in his darkness.

Bruce never said any of that to Tim. Bruce rejected Tim, he didn’t want Tim, and begrudgingly accepted Tim. 

Going back to Jason waiting for Tim’s other young teen friends to leave the tower before going in, only drugging his own former teammates, is much of his anger seems directed at THEM, not just Bruce. To Jason, it looks like they didn’t mourn him either, he has no statue. I find it interesting that he smashes Donna Troy’s statue, who died after him, and I believe she came back before he did. 

Unless he was keeping track of the news from the League of Assassins, to Jason, Donna never died. 

And most importantly? Tim shuts Jason down. Tim “Bitch, Please” Drake out here like: you’re a fucking idiot, he loved you to death, he barely let me audition for the role. 

Tim shows some deep resentment towards Jason in this scene. I mean... earned, Jason literally came into his house and starting hitting him, but Tim’s relationship towards the Idea Of Jason has gone through a few changes. At first Jason was ROBIN! THE BOY WONDER! And if maybe Tim thought Bruce wasn’t AS happy with Jason as he was with Dick, there was still SOME hero worship early on. But it only takes Bruce and Alfred and Dick using Jason’s death as a cautionary tale a few times to get Tim to see Jason AS a cautionary tale - the kind of Robin NOT to be. But the more Tim craved Bruce’s paternal attention and approval, and the more Bruce withheld it or made Tim work for it, knowing that Bruce did that, in part, because of his love and grief for his dead son (Tim having an actual living breathing father plays a part, too), and those feelings towards Jason have started to fester.

Jason can’t let it go, though, he thinks the concept of Robin was a mistake and had always been a mistake, and if he can hurt Tim, so can Scarecrow, Penguin, The Joker. 

This is a good time to bring up that one thing I think Jason probably doesn’t know is Tim is injured. It is a little over a month since since Conner shattered Tim’s right arm. Tim is still healing from a comminuted fracture in his forearm. And looking at this picture that is - ah, yes, that is the injured arm Jason is swinging Tim by. Tim is probably healed by now, the cast IS off and he’s a child, but bones don’t fully return to full strength for 3-6 months. 

Jason is conflicted. This is clearly, in part, a fucked up way of “protecting” what he sees as a manipulated child, to convince him to leave Bruce. But there’s also clearly some deep, deep jealousy thrown into the mix to complicate matters and cloud his judgement. Ultimately, Jason isn’t there to kill Tim. Tim would be dead if he was. He’s there to “beat some sense into him,” and he ultimately fails, and fails badly. 

Tim is found by the older Titans, awake by now, though it seems Jason knocked him out to, uh, fuck with the memorial chamber, and Tim... does not beat around the bush. No secret identities here just “yeah, Jason Todd beat the shit out of me.” 

And their reactions are HILARIOUS. 

One more little sidebar, in the comic, Jason gets in with a D.N.A. check that never removed him from its permissions. Usually in fic this is a unique pass code. I’m not sure which version I like better, honestly. There’s something about Jason physically inputting a code that accepts him even though he’s supposedly dead that I really like, and just feels better than a dna scan. A dna scan sounds SAFER, sure, but there’s something about the Titans leaving in an honest SECURITY RISK out of sentiment that I like. 

Lastly, I really like how it ends. Jason honestly thinks Tim IS a good Robin, and it seems like Jason’s done some research on the core four, mentioning Tim’s “real friends” again while the “camera” is on Conner and Cassie, suggesting that Jason KNOWS about them and possibly that targeting the tower while they were gone maybe wasn’t an accident or out of convenience, but fully intentional. And again, Jason’s real problem is highlighted: he feels alone, forgotten, unmemorable, no family, no friends. 

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk. 

[ragingbookdragon]

Through Hoods, Through Lace, Through Hearts--We'll Find Our Healing PT.1

Jason Todd x Reader Story (Arkhamverse)

Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I started playing Arkham Knight again and got inspired. Who woulda thought?? Enjoy! -Thorne

Gotham wasn’t exactly safe since Batman—or Bruce Wayne—had died. All things considered, it wasn’t as bad as it used to be now that Red Hood had moved in and started tackling the criminals Batman had left behind—permanently. Killer Moth had been the first and Roman Sionis was the second to go, and while Red Hood hadn’t outright claimed it, the leftover crew that hadn’t been pumped full of lead, had said that they saw the vigilante leaving, so it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. And it didn’t stop there.

Red Hood had started in on Penguin’s gang too. Now that Batman wasn’t around to stop the weapons and drug smuggling, it’d given the infamous gang leader a free ticket into Gotham. There were some reports about the neighboring vigilante Nightwing coming over from Blüdhaven to stop him. Rumor had it that someone said they even saw him and the Red Hood working together at one point, but it didn’t seem all to believable as the latter didn’t seem to be the partnering type.

That being said, with no one to stop him from killing all the criminals he wanted, a lot of the small-time fish got out of the business, not wanting to be met at the end of Red Hood’s handguns—it’s the exact reason she got out of the game. The money was good, and she was a damn good thief, but no amount of payout was worth her life. But somehow, trouble always managed to find her again.

***

Her file might’ve gotten deleted from GCPD’s database, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to take the easy way down the street and risk an officer recognizing her. She stuck to the back alleys like usual, ignoring the catcalls and sleazy comments about her outfit, but still keeping her brass knuckles around her hand—could never be too careful in Gotham.

Working an honest job sucked in her opinion, and the only thing more humiliating than working at Super-Babes was the number of tips she was getting at the end of her shift. Maybe if she smiled and flirted a bit more, they’d give her a tenner instead of a fiver. She’d half a mind to shove that five down the asshole’s throat after he ran his hand up the back of her thigh, but she was lucky that Tony had been working the kitchen shift—watching him throw the guy out on his ass was payment enough.

Even if she was managing to scrape by, working a restaurant job was kicking her ass, and something deep inside her itched for one more heist, but with the Red Hood stalking the city, there was no way in hell that she was going to risk it. The man had a reputation for leaving bodies and shell cases, and she wasn’t going to be the former. No, she was working towards a better future, getting back on track, and even if she was waitress, she was doing a lot better than most of the old crew. Most of them had either joined up with Black Mask, in hindsight, a horrible error on their part, or gotten thrown back into lockup. She was lucky—she got out during the recovery of Gotham after the whole Scarecrow and Arkham Knight deal. But that didn’t stop them from sending her the occasional request of her skills. All they received was a big ‘fuck no and fuck you’.

“(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N). Finally tracked you down.” Speak of the devil.

“Alex,” she sighed heavily as she turned halfway, catching sight of her old partner—and old flame, but that wasn’t important. “Figured you would at some point.” Her eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”

Alex chuckled and leaned against the wall. “No need to be so touchy. I just wanted to talk.”

(Y/N) shook her head and hiked her purse higher onto her shoulder, fingers tightening around the brass knuckles in her pocket.

“If it’s not about my next shift at Super-Babes, I don’t give a rat’s ass what it is,” she countered, glaring at him.

“That’s where you’ve been working?” he questioned, but his tone gave way to the knowingness in his gaze. “Really?”

“Not like there’s anywhere else for ex-thieves to apply, Alex,” (Y/N) grumbled. “Employers are pretty meticulous when it comes to criminal records.”

“I’m not.”

She glowered at him. “I’m not interested in whatever you want me to do for you.”

“Even if you’ll get paid?” he suggested.

“I can’t believe I’m going to ask,” she sighed, eyes narrowing at the grin that split across his face. “What are you doing?”

Alex pulled out a file and walked up to her. “I knew you couldn’t resist a big payout.”

“Fuck you,” she grunted, swiping the manilla folder from him. “Shine a light for me.”

He pulled out his phone and flicked his flashlight on, watching as she read the papers, occasionally flipping the sheets.

All at once, she paused and gaped at him. “Wayne Manor?” She blinked. “You wanna `excavate Wayne Manor?”

Alex nodded and turned the flashlight off, stowing the phone back into his pocket. “Good plan, isn’t it?”

(Y/N) breathed in shock and lowered the folder. “Are you insane?”

“I’m failing to see your issue with this.”

“You want to excavate the home of a dead man. You really can’t see the issue with it?”

“That he’s dead?” Alex offered. “Technically that’s not graverobbing. He’s been dead for like a year and a half.”

(Y/N) turned and took a step. “That’s not the issue Alex!” She spun back around and hissed, “Bruce Wayne was Batman.”

“Keyword was. Not anymore.”

“I don’t give a shit. If Bruce Wayne was Batman, then there’s a very strong chance that there’s still defenses laid around the grounds.”

“In that pile of rubble? Not likely, but that’s why I need you to help me.”

“No,” (Y/N) declared. “I’m not going anywhere near that place.”

Alex let out a sigh and crossed his arms over his chest. “And why not? You never really liked Batman. Didn’t he put you in jail once or twice?”

“Bruce Wayne was a good man that did his best to help this city whether he was dressed as Batman or not.” She affirmed. “He saved people, gave them jobs, helped them turn their lives around. No,” she shook her head. “I don’t want any part of this job, Alex. Now, later, or forever. I’m trying to do better, and you should too.”

Alex scoffed. “Oh please, getting tips for dressing like slutty Wonder Woman isn’t doing better (Y/N), and you know it.”

She ignored the insult and shrugged. “Maybe not, but I go to sleep at night knowing that I’m not going to get shot by Red Hood or some greedy gangbanger.”

At that, Alex paused and stared at her. “Are you really afraid of that prick?”

(Y/N) scowled. “That pricktook out Black Mask and his entire operation within twenty-four hoursthen immediately turned his attention on the rest of the scumbags in this city.” Taking a step towards him, she added, “He doesn’t break bones and leave you lying in pain like Batman did, Alex. He makes sure you don’t get up again. Ever. I’m not risking my neck for anything that’s stuck in Wayne’s basement.”

The man across from her was silent for a moment, then sighed. “I can’t sway you in any way?”

She yanked her hand out of her jacket pocket and flashed the knuckles around her hand. “I’d stop swaying and start running instead.”

Alex opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was, “Oh fuck!” then he spun around and hauled off like his ass was on fire.

(Y/N) stood there dumbfounded. Sure, she could be intimidating, but there was no way she was that scary. Instead of questioning it, she shrugged and shoved the folder into her skirt, then turned sharply on her heel to start on her way back to her apartment. Until she walked straight into someone’s chest.

She gasped as she stumbled backwards, knowing she was going to fall on her ass when strong hands grasped her upper arms, keeping her upright. (Y/N) looked up and met the very man she’d been talking about. Suddenly, Alex’s explicative and escape made perfect sense.

“Oh fuck!” she blurted out, and impulsively swung her knuckled fist at the jaw of his helmet. He caught her hand with an ease and spun her around, pressing her front up against the brick wall.

“Fuck me. Oh, fuck me,” she hissed, cursing herself for not telling Alex to stick it where the sun didn’t shine the second he found her. Now here she was about to get murdered by a trigger-happy vigilante with a grudge.

“Really? Right here? But someone could see us?” The humor in his tone drew a startled laugh from her and she pressed her cheek against the wall, so she could see him.

“I swear to God I don’t have anything to do with him. Fuck, I’ll tell you whatever you want about him and his plan if you don’t kill me.” (Y/N) sucked in a breath. “Please don’t kill me. I swear I stopped pulling heists after Halloween last year. I work a decent job. I keep my nose clean. I don’t get involved in that shit anymore. Please, God, don’t—”

“Will you stop talking for like ten seconds?” Red Hood griped, one hand leaving the grasp he had on her arms behind her back to feel around her middle.

“HEY!” she shouted, thrashing wildly. “GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!”

He pressed her harder to the wall. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Calm down.”

“I’ll calm down when you get your fucking hands out of my skirt your fucking pervert!” (Y/N) spat, leaning on one leg to kick at him with the other.

“All I want is what’s in your skirt,” he sighed and pressed one of his thighs against the one kicking him. “Christ,you’re a handful.”

“And you’re a fucking sicko!” she retorted indignantly. “Is this how you get your rocks off? Assaulting innocent women? You’re so fucking disgu—”

“Got it,” Red Hood declared, and yanked out the file she’d shoved in the side of her skirt. (Y/N) fell silent when he held it beside her head. “See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

She could tell he was smirking behind the red helmet and she scowled at him. “You’re fucked up, buddy.”

Shrugging, he flipped open the file and started reading. “Would’ve been easier if you hadn’t tried to run on me.”

“Well excuse me for thinking I was about to get murdered and having the initial instinct to haul ass.”

Red Hood chuckled at that, and despite how wrong the entire situation was, the low drawl made shivers go down her spine.

“Wanna tell me about your friend?” he coaxed and (Y/N) froze.

“He’s not my friend,” she suddenly protested. “I haven’t been around Alex since last year.”

“Really? You two seem fairly chummy.”

(Y/N) craned her neck to look at him. “We used to fuck when we worked together.”

“Mhm,” he hummed knowingly. “Lover’s spat then?”

Barking a laugh, she countered, “Like you wouldn’t believe.” She stared at him. “I got out when you started putting people down. Didn’t want to be a casualty.”

“That’ll do it,” he snickered. “So, you don’t know what Alex’s been up to since last year?”

“No, and I want it to stay that way, but he thinks that if he waves enough heists in my face, I’ll cave and run back to the money.” (Y/N) groaned and rested her head against the wall. “Look, I don’t know what he’s planning, and I don’t care. I don’t want anything to do with whatever that plan it. Honest to God.”

She gazed at him, feeling something akin to tears gathering in her vision, and pled, “Take the file. Hell, take all the money I’ve got in my purse if you want, just don’t kill me.” A single tear ran down her cheek. “Please, I’m begging you. I don’t wanna die now.”

Red Hood’s weight disappeared from her back and he murmured, “I’m not going to hurt you. I want the opposite in fact.” The honesty in his words made her body feel weak and her knees started to go out beneath her. “And there she goes.” He caught her before she fell.

Gently lowering her to the ground, he helped her sit against the wall. (Y/N) leaned her head back and let out a long sigh.

“Oh, thank God.”

He laughed. “Life flashing before your eyes?”

She gave a half-hearted smile. “You’ve got no idea.”

This time when he laughed, it was dark, and it made her stomach churn. “Actually, I do.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over them, then he knelt in front of her, handing her purse back to her.

“Here.”

(Y/N) took it with a nod and stared at him. “So, what happens now?”

He was quiet for a moment, then he waved the file. “I go stop your friends from digging around Batman’s home.”

“Good luck,” she replied, starting to her feet when he tutted.

“Ah-ah-ah.” He motioned for her to sit back down. “We’re not done yet.”

She grunted at him. “What do you want?”

“Information on your friends.”

(Y/N) felt her brows furrow. “Can’t you find that out yourself?”

Red Hood shrugged. “I could, but I’m always looking to make my job easier.” He observed her for a moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of hundred-dollar bills.

Waving it in front of her, he said, “You tell me what you used to do for them and what all they’ve got going on, and you can have this.”

(Y/N)’s jaw went tight as she stared at the roll. That could pay rent and bills for at least two months. She needed the money. Her eyes darted to the mask and she swiped for the roll, but he raised it out of her reach.

“Nope,” he ribbed. “Info first.”

“Ass,” she grumbled, but conceded with a sigh. “Fine. Have it your way.” (Y/N) clambered to her feet and dusted off her tacky skirt, watching as he did the same.

“Follow me to my apartment.” Before he could say a word, she thrust a finger into his chest. “And do it from the rooftops so people don’t see you.” Her face set in a glare. “I don’t need any unwanted guests trying to get in because they saw you following me.”

She started off when Red Hood grabbed her forearm, not harshly, but firm enough to make her stop and stare at him questioningly.

“What’s your name?”

She blinked, not expecting that. “It’s (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).”

He nodded. “And what did they call you when you worked as a thief?”

(Y/N) huffed. “Not everyone has an alias, Red Hood.”

Chuckling, he retorted, “Yeah, but someone as pretty as you no doubt had one.”

She felt her stomach flutter at his flirt and her cheeks warmed as she looked away and replied, “They used to call me, ‘The Lady in Lace’.”

“The Lady in Lace?” he repeated, then stood next to her and pulled out a grappling gun. “Have a matching outfit, Lady Lace?”

(Y/N) shoved him in the side. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I think I’d rather see,” Red Hood flirted and pressed the button, shooting off towards the roof of the building.

It was gonna be a long night.

[tadpole-san]

are we still friends? ;  d.g. part two pairing: titans!dick grayson x reader, on-and-off relationship warnings: dick being his therapy-needing titans self, slight canon divergence from titans 1x06, and an ending that may or may not lead to a part two a/n: i will never let go of my personal dick grayson grudge, but this exists solely because i love @capricorn-stark

The last time you had seen Dick Grayson, he’d outfitted himself with packed belongings and a one-way ticket to Detroit, Michigan. Seeing him off at the airport would turn out to be the last time you saw him for a year - a fact you hadn’t picked up on at the time, but did, in fact, predict. To a degree.

“You could come visit,” he’d offered, just steps away from his gate. “You - well, you said you had plans to go to Chicago, right? The drive’s not too bad.” It was hard to say no.

Because this was Dick Grayson, and he had to be so earnest about everything he did. Even when it was asking you to come see him as he was moving hundreds of miles away from Gotham (hundreds of miles away from you, a part of your mind whispered, even as you reminded yourself that this didn’t have anything to do with you so much as it had to do with his fractured relationship with Bruce). Because he was trying to make things work.

“How are you able to be friends with your exes?” you’d asked, bemused and flabbergasted all at once. It wasn’t the first time. “I really try to hate you, you know.” That got him to laugh - which was nice. You felt as though you hadn’t really smiled in a long time.

“Maybe that’s my superpower.”

“Your superpower is super annoying,” you’d deadpanned, before leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you around, Grayson.”

An empty promise neither of you acknowledged.

After that, it was all too easy to fall out of touch with Dick - one too many missed calls, excuses of taking more shifts at his police station when you were more than capable of keeping up with the news that spoke of a vigilant Robin without its bat, until eventually, total radio silence. And you were happy to leave it at that, knowing that whatever Dick was working through, he’d clearly rather do it on his own.

So when even the Robin sightings in Detroit stopped entirely, you didn’t push things. Maybe he’d finally done it: give up the costume for good, leave the life behind like he said he would do, but never actually committed to.

This was probably a sign. That you need to go see him, like you said you would do, but never committed to.

Which means that the last thing you expect, on your morning coffee run in Chicago, was to quite literally run into the man of the hour himself.

“Dick?” The word comes in a way that is akin to a strangled duck squawking.  You wonder if the man before you is real - if you’re not just imagining the figure that stands before you, cuts and bruises littering his face. As if he’s been in a fight.

With his track record, there probably was a fight. With him, there’s always the fight.

“Sup?” Dick’s not the one who answers you first. It’s the kid standing at his side, walking with a swagger that speaks volumes to the confidence of a kid who’s filling out the big boy shoes with his own ego. You try not to judge too much - there’s always a story behind a stance like his. “Jason Todd, at your service.”

A train passes on the overhead, the sound drawing you out of your thoughts. You realize his hand is still offered to you, and you shake it, still staring at Dick. He’s tense, shoulders drawn, hunched in on himself and bracing for a fight.

Something’s up. And with the Boy Wonder, it’s always something big, and possibly earth-shattering. Inwardly, you sigh. On the outside, you smile wryly and introduce yourself to Jason.

“You probably know who I am,” you say, letting go of Jason’s hand and stepping back. Your grip on your bag tightens. “Dick’s a big storyteller, once you get him going.” Dick verbally steps in before Jason can say anything to either confirm or deny your words.

“I could use your help.”

He doesn’t say we.

“I can see that,” you deadpan, motioning to his face. Your hand stops shy of actually touching the bruise blossoming against tanned skin. “A personal favor, then?” He turns his head away from you, and you spot the (quite frankly) atrocious brown car parked on the curb.

“That’s my ride.” He’s defensive, and you get the feeling that it isn’t about the car. You raise your hand in surrender, but he doesn’t relax - in a way, it’s nice to know that you’re probably not the reason he looks ready to pull a Flash and run as soon as the chance to do so opened up for him.

“You’re parked in front of my ride,” you reply, reaching into your bag and pulling the keys out. You let them twirl around your finger as you turn and walk towards your car, looking over your shoulder at him. “Am I going to need to make a stop at home to get the old suit out?” Somehow, that actually brings a smile to Dick’s face, and he ducks his head slightly as he chuckles.

“I just need you,” he calls out, finally pulling a hand out of his pockets and raising it in your direction to let you see the phone in his palm that’s open to your texts with him. There’s a new one that is likely the address of whatever safehouse he was holed up in.

You try not to linger on his words for too long.

“They’re hot,” you hear Jason say. It’s followed immediately by a yelp - presumably from Dick either elbowing him or punching his arm - and a “you’re way too young for that.” Despite yourself, you grin.

You’d missed him. Even if you weren’t going to admit it to his face.

When you finally make it to the address Dick sends you, he’s not even the one who lets you pass Bruce’s more-than-extensive security system. It’s Jason who does that.

Instead, you find Dick bent over the bathroom sink, the blade of a scalpel pressed to the skin of his arm. There’s also an unconscious body cuffed to the shower behind him, but you compartmentalize that for later.

“Are you okay?” At the sound of your voice, DIck freezes - like a deer caught in headlights - and looks up at you. You can see him visibly relax as he lets out a sigh that works to relieve some of the tension wound up in his body. You raise an eyebrow, and walk over to him.

“It’s not what you think,” he tells you, then uses the scalpel to motion towards the device discarded on the white porcelain. You pick it up, turning it over in your hands. “Bruce planted a tracker, in me, and I’m trying to-”

“Cut him out?” you finish, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Cut it out,” he corrects.

“I know what I said.” You watch through the mirror’s reflection as he finally makes the incision, thick red blood pouring down his arm and dripping into the sink. You’re already opening the cabinet to find gauze to wrap his arm with. “Let me see that-” The ringtone coming from the phone between you two cuts you off. You look at him. And then you look down at the screen. The name Kori flashes across it.

“New girlfriend?” you dare to ask, meeting his eyes in the mirror. Dick purses his lips, swiping a bloody thumb over the screen to deny the call before he’s reaching for the tweezers.

“No,” He grits his teeth, maneuvering the metal tweezers in the wound he made. “We just met,” Dick adds, meeting your eyes again. For his sake, you offer a tentative smile. He sighs, and finally retracts a tracker that resembles a battery watch. It falls into your open hand. You’re glad for the distraction, because - shit.

Those eyes.

Dick possesses what you swear is the most beautiful shade of eyes you’ve ever seen, and he models them beautifully. Those baby blues were always going to be your downfall, and seeing them had been enough for you to call in a precious sick day at work so you could help him out on whatever case brings him to Chicago. They’re the reason you have a case in your car trunk containing a suit you swore to leave in the closet.

They make you realize you can be so weak.

“I’m not dating right now,” Dick continues, filling in the space of your prolonged silence. He doesn’t take the gauze from your hand - even though he could - and instead, holds his arm out towards you so you can wrap it yourself. “Actually, I haven’t really seen anyone since I was with you.”

“I think that says less about what our relationship was, and more about you going full lone-wolf.” You hesitate to finish, and you keep a loose grip on his arm. His skin is warm. “The more you try to be the anti-Bruce, the more you’re becoming like him. You know that, right?” He’s not looking you in the eye anymore. Anger isn’t what drives him to do that, you think - it’s more like a combination of guilt, of the expression of a kid who thinks he’s a disappointment to the people leaning on him. People shouldn’t lean on a kid.

“I’m working on it.”

“I know.” Finally, you set the roll of gauze aside and release his arm. It allows you to take the chance to reach for him and make him look at you again. “And thank you,” you add. “For coming to see me.” He manages another smile, reaching up to cover your hand in his. You know what he would do if you were still dating. He would’ve pressed a kiss to your hand, and he would laugh it off, probably with some sort of cheeky quip. A I knew you missed me too much or I’d come by to see you any day.

You’re not dating anymore. And it’s confusing as hell, because sometimes it feels like you still are. On the rare days that he still calls you for no reason to tell you about a case from work he’s stuck on, or to remind you that you made a promise to see him, pairing it with a good tease about how seeing him in the new uniform would probably be too much for you. On those nights, Robin isn’t flying solo on the streets of Detroit.

“The lead brought me to Chicago,” he explains, tilting his head in the direction of the man lying in the shower.

“Is it a work case?”

“Not exactly. It’s-” you anticipate the familiar complicated. The word doesn’t come. “There’s a lot I need to update you on,” he settles on saying instead, running stained hands under the sink. “And if it’s Chicago, you’re going to be my number one. Right?”

“Right,” you agree, traces of amusement seeping into your tone as you cross your arms. “I called in sick at work,” you add. “Am I going to need to make up an excuse for the rest of the week?” The question, lighthearted as it’s supposed to be, holds weight to it that neither of you acknowledge.

“I’m probably going to be out of the state in a couple of days,” Dick says instead of answering, drying his hands off with a towel. He lets it drop in the sink, walking back out in the hallway with you. “You don’t need to - it’s a lot. And there’s these guys I’m kind of traveling with-”

“Dick.”

When he faces you, it’s your turn to shove hands in your pockets to avoid wringing them out in front of him. You take a deep breath, leaning back on your heels to look at him. “You didn’t need to find me,” you tell him. “That Jason kid? He wouldn’t be sticking around if he couldn’t be decent backup for this.”

“Are you detective-ing me out right now?” Dick’s actually trying not to laugh. You’re not sure if you should hit him or not.

“That’s not a word!”

“You know what I mean! And yes! I’m trying to figure out what’s going on with you!” By now, he’s actually laughing - and even if a part of you is annoyed, sure, there’s more of you that just feels relief. Because you can’t remember the last time he’d laughed like that, either, and it gives you a bit of hope.

Hope that the parts of him you fell in love with aren’t as lost as you thought.

“There’s a lot,” he admits, shifting his weight and trying to step back so he isn’t crowding you in the hall. “I know - the Bruce thing, you’re sick of that bullshit. I got a lot going on.” His phone starts up again, and this time, he pulls it out. The fluorescent light washes out his skin, but you can see his expression sober up. “I need to take this.” The traces of laughter in his voice are gone, and it feels like he’s slipping away again. There’s frustration that must show on your face, because he reaches out to you and moves a stray lock of hair out of your eyes in a silent apology.

“Go.” You manage not to sound as bitter as you feel - and with him, it’s not a bitterness that’s always there, but it inevitably creeps up on you. The same way the shadow of a bat hangs over him. Dick nods, and you start to walk away when he grabs your wrist again.

“You aren’t my backup for this,” he says firmly, and you know you’re fucked. Because he’s looking at you with those eyes, and it’s like you’re in that airport with him all over again, with nothing but empty promises and a broken relationship the two of you are hanging onto by a thread. “You’re-” he falters. He hesitates, and you’re ready to watch Dick Grayson walk away from you again.

“You’re everything.”

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