#and Wille eats it up

[enjoythesilentworld]

Simon's Month - Home (Improvement)

day 30 @youngroyals-events one more to go i could cry

Simon owns a home renovation business with his sister. Wille has recently purchased a fixer-upper.

read below or on ao3 (T, 1.3k)

“You have to be nice,” Sara says as they drive down the unassuming backroad, lined with thick vegetation.

Simon scoffs, staring out the window and peeking between the gaps in the trees to get a glimpse of the types of homes around here. That one needs a new roof, but that one's got some good landscaping.  

“I am nice.”

“You’re nice in a special Simon way. Once someone has had time to get to know you.” Sara puts on the blinker, turning up a gravel street. “There’s a reason I usually bring Ayub with me— Get out and open the gate for me, please.”

Rolling his eyes, Simon climbs out of the car and swings open the simple metal gate, which could really use some oil on the hinges. The fence has a few nearly broken posts, too. If this is what the entrance looks like, he can only imagine the actual house. It must be further up the hill, but it’s way too overgrown for Simon to be able to see anything yet.

Usually, Ayub went with Sara on these consultations, because, allegedly, he's the better at talking to the clients. Apparently it didn’t matter that, technically, Simon was in charge of the construction half of his and Sara’s business. Not that it really bothered Simon. At the end of the day, he trusted Ayub to do the initial walkthrough and markup, allowing Simon to focus on getting everything ready to start the actual construction. Today, though, Ayub is busy, so Simon’s been tagged in.

“I’m just honest,” he says, once back in the car. “You are, too, Sara. That’s why people like you as a designer. Because you'll tell them if their shit is ugly.”

She pulls further up the drive and the house comes into view. That is, if it can even be called a house. Simon barely hears Sara’s response, his mind already flitting through the long, long to-do list that will be required to get this pile of wood back to living standards.

“Yes, but I do it in a nice way. This is Felice’s very good friend, okay? She said he’s great. Don’t make him go back to Felice with a bad review.”

“Yeah, yeah, I won’t,” Simon waves her off, stepping out of the car to get a better look at the building. “This place looks like a piece of shit.”

“Hey, that’s my piece of shit you’re talking about.”

Simon turns at the sound of the new voice. In the front doorway of said piece of shit, there’s a tall, handsome man with auburn hair and a crooked smile. It’s quite the paradoxical image, this pretty, clean-cut man walking down the porch steps of such a dirty, overgrown house.

Sara steps up to greet him, apologizing for her brother's snark, while Simon hangs back, still assessing the integrity of the columns holding up the overhang roof. Most of the shingles are in place, at least, and he doesn’t see any sagging that would indicate leakage. Not yet, at least.

“Good to see you again, Wille,” Sara smiles, using that sweet customer-service voice of hers.

“You, too, Sara. Thank you for agreeing to take on this project. I know it’s a bit of a mess.”

“Well,” Simon cuts in without introduction, “she’ll only be able to do her part once we make sure this place won’t blow away in the first storm.”

Wille turns to him and smiles brightly, somehow rivaling even the midmorning sun that shines above them. “You must be Simon.” He extends a hand. “I’m Wille. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Simon takes his hand and shakes it once. They’re bigger than Simon’s, but less calloused. He probably works for some stupid finance company and sits in a fancy ergonomic chair all day, drinking filtered water and fucking off to business lunches with Sweden’s elite.

“Yep. I’ve heard almost nothing about you. Shall we take a look inside?”

If Wille’s surprised by Simon’s attitude, he doesn’t show it. He just nods, still smiling like the sun.  

Sara hisses at him as Wille leads them inside, telling him to cool it. Simon nods distractedly, but he really can’t be bothered to be nice because he’s already annoyed with this rich kid who’s probably bought this house to fix up and turn into a 20,000kr per night rental.

It’s not as bad inside, thankfully. The remaining yellowed wallpaper is peeling, and there's random trash scattered around, but there are no cracks in the walls or water stains on the ceiling. Wille leads them through, pointing out which rooms are which. The whole tour doesn’t last more than ten minutes as it’s only a two-bed, two-bath. The windows are half-boarded, and there are a few unnecessary walls, and Simon is already itching to get started. 

“I want to keep as much of the original structure as possible,” Wille explains when they stop again in the kitchen. He runs a hand over the dusty countertop, looking lovingly around the small, cramped space. “I might want to add an extension in the future, but it’s just me here, so this is definitely plenty of space for now.”

“You’re going to live here?” Simon asks, surprised.

Wille tilts his head at him. “Yes?”

Simon hums, crossing his arms and leaning back on the archway that leads into the living room. “Damn. I would’ve thought you’re more of a city high-rise type. You seem too posh for country living. You know, I don't think take-out drivers come out here. And the nearest Michelin restaurant isn’t for, like, 100 kilometers.”

“Simon!” Sara glares at him.

“It’s okay,” Wille chuckles. “No, I’m not the high rise type. I prefer the quiet of the countryside, and I also prefer to cook my own food. Michelin restaurants are way too overhyped, anyway.”

He’s smirking through his smile and has met Simon’s challenge, and so Simon decides he can let up a bit.

He and Wille spend the next two hours walking through the space again, more slowly this time, while Sara steps outside to make a few calls. She can’t do anything yet, anyway. Not with the house in this state. This part is Simon’s job, his specialty.

“Knocking down this wall will open up the space a lot, especially if you still want to be able to host while in the kitchen. It’ll give you a good view out of the front of the house, too,” Simon rambles, marching through the space and gesturing as he goes. Wille is hot on his heels, nodding along. “I’d put a countertop bar here, though, for some extra seating and to break up the space a bit. We’ll have to rip out all of these cabinets, though. I’ll need to get my plumber out here, too, to check the piping. These old builds are a little iffy sometimes on how well things have held up.”

Simon continues to talk, and endless stream of consciousness and notes about electrical wiring and comments about the state of the hardwood floor. Wille follows him all the way, making notes in a little notebook and asking the occasional question.

They finish just as Sara’s car pulls back up the driveway. Simon hadn’t even realized she’d left.

“I brought lunch,” she tells them, holding up a brown bag. “You two were pretty distracted, so I figured I shouldn’t bother.”

Wille thanks her graciously, and they all sit on the porch together to eat. Simon starts to make notes in his phone, setting reminders to call certain inspectors and logging how many people he’ll need for demo-day.

After lunch, they take a loop around the outside of the house, inspecting the gutters and stonework. Now that the initial tension has faded, he and Wille get distracted a few times by other topics. Simon learns that Wille is actually not an insufferable spoiled brat. In fact, he’s quite nice and quite funny. He keeps up with Simon’s jokes, and when Simon pushes him, he pushes right back.

Simon tells Wille he’ll have to check with his team, but he’s pretty sure most everyone is in between jobs and will be able to start in the next few days. Wille agrees to meet them at the house for the first day of demolition, and Simon and Sara leave for the day.

“You like him,” Sara says once Simon’s back in the car after closing the front gate behind them.

He shrugs, refusing to give her the satisfaction, and casually admits, “He doesn’t totally suck.”

Perhaps, Simon thinks, this renovation job won’t be too bad.

[umblrspectrum]

i got lazy in the second panel and didnt feel like coloring or whatever bite me

[knockknockknockingonhootysdoor]

there are two different types of romantics in the world….

[icewindandboringhorror]

What would you choose? :0c

(note: original image is from HERE (link) - but I edited it to add a wider variety of options.. also added $3 extra to the total, even though I know that makes it more uneven lol, I thought if you're adding 10 whole extra items, the money to spend should at least be increased slightly, if that makes sense..)

[dukeofthomas]

"Angry robin" "violent robin" "misbehaving robin" shut up and accept my alternative; spunky Robin. Determined and head strong, can out-stubborn the Batman, has a strong moral-backbone and does what he thinks is right regardless of what anybody else says, Robin. Jason who was sassy and quippy and made crude jokes with a smile on his face. Jason who hid in Bruce's cape and whispered gossip to him. Jason who, if Bruce refused him something, could keep bothering endlessly until Bruce caved. And also dramatic Jason. If Bruce tells him no, it becomes a whole theatrical show; a monologue, a narration, embellishments, and falling onto the floor in his grief upon the fact his cruel father has denied him once again.

(Jason who has suffered through abuse and homelessness and poverty and starvation, who is the Fight out of Fight or Flight, who's built up defenses and walls and when pushed and triggered responds with the thing that's always protected him; anger. He's sweet and kind and funny, and when he sees a pimp hitting a prostitute he gets furious and responds with violence.)

[backpackingspace]

Love that it's Canon that odysseus built secret passage ways into his house and then never fucking told anybody about them (except penelope of course)

[nadiajustbe]

Okay but why being a werewolf in Bartseq is actually so traumatising? I know we all like to joke about how random and cool the Night Police is but taking into account its origin along with the way it works, the werewolfs might also be one of the most fucked up things this magical thinking has ever produced?

You see, before rereading, I was pretty sure the werewolf transformation was, well, a voluntary things — not that you can control whether you will be selected to become a werewolf or not, the books never give any clearance, but I thought that at least the could control the transformation itself, to some extent. No dependence on the full moon and everything.

Upon rereading the Golem's Eye I realised that It is not, in fact, the case. Not even close. While, yes, the transformation itself does not require any reliance on a moon cycle (which is really unusual for a werewolf genre, yet very interesting topic to tackle), the transformation is not controlled by a werewolf.

Even more, Bartimaeus point out that the particular reason the werewolfs are a pretty unstable system — hence why they weren't used before Glandstone's reformations, while being "discovered" centuries before that — is because they are incredibly hard to control. For what he knows, and this is the only source of information we have so here we have no choice but to believe (partially) our good friend Barty, the transformation is fully controlled by two things: 1) the intensity of an emotion the they experience 2) pain

There were even a description of werewolfs switching back and worth between wolfs and humans because of how unstable they felt, whereas feeling either too much or not enough. And while we also see werewolfs changing their transformed body in order to achieve some technicalities (that one werewolf who gave himself elbows and fingers in order to climb the roof where Kitty were standing) we have no reasons to think it's not a part influenced by the system described above or/and only comes through huge trainings relying on those factors, as there were only one, maybe two werewolfs who where able to do this trick. For all we know it's still only emotional damage or pain.

So, not only you're a freaking werewolf, forced to live in this situation, partially tied to the police because no one else in this world needs you like this, not only it's non-reversible and probably really uncomfortable, you are also forced to live in fear of a slightest emotion or hints of pain literally turning you into a beast willing to tear other person's throat, and it was mentioned on more that one occasion that werewolfs are extremely bloodthirsty, am I getting this right? Oh this is horrible.

[noyzinerd]

Stiles: Um, sure. Let's see...hmmm...Oh! If you see a drowsy looking bee on the ground, you can give it a little drop of sugar water to help make it feel better.

Derek, in the middle of cleaning out a bullet wound:

Stiles:

Stiles: I'm now starting to realize that you were probably asking me for a "Q-Tip" rather than a "cute tip".

[alongtidesoflight]

i swear my stepdad is so illogical AND stubborn it hurts

[limonjarritos]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GUYS DON'T LIKE HARU?! Who else does it like her?

[zoomclown]

i know it's late but HAPPY BIRTHDAY WARREN GODBY

[shakingparadigm]

horrendously sick and twisted btw

[templeofvengeance]

[These quizzes are so fkin hard to do for Khonshu]

[tinkrtailrsldrspy]

Gravity Falls Fanfic Ideas That I Will Not Finish But Encourage You To

= Muse!Bill AU

(if you want, please steal these ideas, no credit needed - just send me a link once it's done cause I wanna read!)

Something was holding fast to him, and Ford felt the tight terror in his chest ease as he was yanked back through the portal, the Nightmare Realm receding from his vision. He landed on cold concrete with a harsh huff of air, eyes snapping shut at the sharp pain of impact. There was a familiar voice calling out - Stan must have figured out how to bring him back, Gods he couldn’t decide if he was going to strangle or kiss his idiot twin.

Ford’s eyes opened blearily when a warm hand landed on his shoulder, looking up at his brot-

The young man fell back with a scream, scrambling backwards away from the demonic yellow eye that had once watched him with a soft adoration in it’s depth. Bill Cipher. He must have somehow possessed Stan - but the portal couldn’t have been open for that long! He hadn’t even gotten a glimpse of the demon on the other side of it!

“Bill?!”

“Over here, Stan!”

Ford’s head snapped away from the demon to see…

“Dad?” he muttered confusedly.

His father’s eyes bugged out of his head when they landed on Ford, mouth falling open in wordless noises.

“Yeah, that was my thought exactly,” Bill muttered as he stood up fully, stepping back to give Ford more space. “I’ll admit, I’m not exactly sure how this happened… All my calculations were correct, and Specs’ engineering is fool-proof…”

“I take no responsibility for this,” a bored voice intoned from the other side of the room. Ford spun to see what appeared to be an older version of his ex-assistant, chewing absentmindedly on a long piece of red licorice. “I told you we should have gone over the thing one more time.”

“A fifth inspection wasn’t going to do anything, hillbilly,” Bill growled at the other man, glaring poisonously at him. “Can’t you just take the damn compliment?!” Fiddleford merely shrugged without much emotion.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Ford finally cried, his breath coming in heavy pants as he felt tears threatening to spill from his eyes. None of this was making sense - why was Bill here? Why was Fiddleford so much older? Why was his dad here?! Where was Stan?!

“Sixer, it’s okay.”

Ford looked up to see who he had first thought to be his father coming towards him, knees bent and hands held out in submission. The voice… and with a closer look… “Stan?” he whispered in horror. “What… what happened to you?! You were just- I was- what-” Ford was helpless against the small sob that escaped him, allowing Stan to move closer and engulf him in a tight embrace. He clung onto his twin with equal force, terror warring with a desperate need for comfort.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay, we’ll figure this out,” Stan promised softly.

And, Gods help him, Ford believed him.

-

“How the fuck did you connect to a completely different version of the Nightmare Realm, Bill?” Stan asked with a frustrated sigh from the kitchen. Ford could imagine him rubbing his forehead in annoyance, the way their father had when they were but boys.

“Hey! I told you, none of this is an exact science!” Bill protested, Ford able to hear the pout in his voice. It brought a warm smile to his face - before reality hit him with cold clarity and he was left shivering under the blanket that Stan had wrapped around him after he’d been deposited on the couch in the living room.

His… his house looked a lot different.

“All you were supposed to do was fix Ford’s portal, not try and ‘make it better’!” Stan’s voice was getting louder and more aggressive, and his twin couldn’t help but worry for not-his-Stan’s safety. If Bill was here physically, there was no telling what he’d be able to do!

“I didn’t!” Bill yelled right back. “I didn’t change a single damn thing about that portal! And you know it was my design to begin with, Xerox!”

Ford startled when a weight landed beside him on the couch, spinning to see a nearly blank-faced Fiddleford holding out a mug of tea. The older man nodded towards it, and Ford reached out hesitantly for it. The minute the warmth of the ceramic hit his hand, though, he eagerly wrapped both of his around it and brought it close to his chest. He hadn’t realized how cold he was until then.

“They’ll be at it for a while,” F sighed with a soft, fond roll of his eyes. “They usually are when something goes wrong with the portal. Don’t worry about it.”

“But…” Ford glanced nervously between his cup of tea and F, brows furrowed. “What if- what if he decides to… you know!”

“‘He’?” F echoed with some confusion.

“Bill!” Ford hissed. “He could hurt Lee!”

F went silent, blinking at him a few times before bursting into a full belly-laugh, clutching his sides. Stan and Bill’s voices suddenly went quiet before two heads were poking around the living room door, bafflement clear on their faces.

“You good there, Specs?” Bill asked hesitantly, as though F were the crazy one around here.

“Bill, what did you do to this poor man?!” F howled in laughter, turning towards the doorway. “He’s scared you might hurt Stan!”

Stanley, as well, burst out in laughter at that, walking into the room with an indignant Bill on his heals. “Yeah, right! Like this pipsqueak could lay a hand on me!” he chortled.

“Hey! I could if I tried!” Bill complained, though the smile that tugged on his lips spoke to a relationship with the other two that Ford had never witnessed between Bill and… anyone else.

“You couldn’t hurt a fly, fruity,” Stan growled with a wide grin, slinging an arm around Bill’s shoulders.

“You forced Ford not to shoot that Gremloblin even after it got you,” F muttered as he wiped a tear that had escaped down his cheek. “And you barely managed to pluck that unicorn hair without passing out!”

“But I did!” Bill retorted, sticking out his tongue at the engineer.

“Why’re you so worried about this guy, anyways, Sixer?” Stan finally asked, turning a raised brow to his not-brother.

“He- he’s a God,” Ford stuttered as he looked between the three men. That got him three looks of both confusion and concern.

“I mean, calling me a Muse is more accurate,” Bill chuckled awkwardly. “I’m nowhere near as powerful as the Axolotl or even Time Baby. My whole deal is inspiring beings to reach for greater heights and all.”

“No!” Ford denied, shaking his head violently. “That’s what you said when we met, but you were lying! You even admitted it!”

Slowly, Stan let his arm fall from around Bill’s shoulders, giving the creature a reassuring pat before moving over to Ford, kneeling before him. “Hey, Sixer, whatever your Bill did, this Bill isn’t him. Our Ford brought him over to our dimension forever ago, and he’s been helping us try to rescue him after my brother got lost in the Nightmare Realm after an accident.”

“He’s one of the Demon Bills, isn’t he?”

All eyes turned to Bill, who was looking down at his hands as he fiddled with them.

“They’re far more common than anything like me,” he explained softly. “I met one, when I was young, after- well, after I… lost my home…” Ford stiffened at the mention of the destroyed dimension. “I saw my potential future in him, and I ran from it as fast as I possibly could.

[applestorms]

i think cottagecore is like the ultimate anti-rape culture white woman fantasy. it's a vision of reality where Girls* go to picnics and feed each other strawberries and kiss behind the willow trees, where nothing is ever bad or hurtful in a truly meaningful way, where love and safety is the unifying factor of reality. i'm frankly more surprised that some people ever thought this had anything to do with actual rural country life or farming-- at it's center, cottagecore is not just interested in getting away from the city to get away from capitalism or the other struggles of modern life. it's also, fundamentally, about getting away from Men, to a utopian garden of eden on the outskirts where Men simply do not exist, and therefore cannot harm or rape you.

*white, cis, skinny, traditionally attractive, etc.

so many of the Comforting aesthetics and purity politics that we have come to cultivate online in recent years come down to this idea, in my opinion-- a desire to find a Safe Space, to fade away into the fantasy of your Comfort Characters, to find the one singular location of true Stability in a world where everything else is fated to be horrible and terrible forever. it's the negative space of doomer culture, the pessimism that blew up after trump's first election, after the color-blind ignorance of the obama era was sufficiently destroyed by a horror so visible and blatant you simply cannot look away from it. it's no wonder so many of these aesthetics and ideas blew up to the degree that they did during 2020, in the midst of so much global instability and hopelessness. people wanted, and still want, something Pure and Good to take shelter within in the face of all this Evil-- a shell you can hide inside where everything will be perfect forever even as the storm rages on outside, beyond your control and beyond what you want to think about.

it's a flawed way of thinking, of course. black and white to an extreme. you can never find a place that is truly Pure and Good to the intense standards that you set, simply by nature of how those standards themselves are made and enforced-- not only are people simply too complex and nuanced, but the desire for something Freed From Evil itself inherently creates a more and more impossible standard, that is either overly-regulatory of anything that could be even a speck of Problematic™, or is necessarily blind to its own faults and biases (e.g. cottagecore as white lesbian tradwives). and, on the other side, the world outside is not Pure Evil either-- there is still hope to be found, ways in which we can make our systems work For Us, and ways in which we can change them (though those approaches may be difficult or require collaborative effort we, at the moment, simply have not coordinated).

[necrotic-nephilim]

https://www.tumblr.com/necrotic-nephilim/761747687384252416/i-dont-care-how-much-you-hate-me-you-need-to?source=share

so i'm imagining that tim gets free

(maybe it's steph who's on the outs with tim and doesn't believe him about bruce but sure as fuck doesn't approve of whatever the hell this is or maybe it's damian who's jealous that tim is getting any so much of dick's attention despite the fact that he's the heir and robin)

regardless tim gets the fuck out of gotham and goes on his international art theft adventure to find bruce

unfortunately for everyone dick processes to lose his shit and now damian (and steph to a lesser extent) is doing for dick what tim did for bruce

also a lot of heroes are drawing parallels between this and b reaction after jason died

anyway tim gets his proof (and get saved by jason bc jason's looking at dick all "this is really creepy actually and i don't want you anywhere near tim despite how bad our relationship is")

tim then goes to green arrow with his proof because he knows that man would call dick out no matter what costume he's wearing and he actually does an ok job with all the kids he picks up

there's a jla meeting and dick sees tim and is just as unstable as tim guessed he would be and it's pinging everyone's radar as A Problem now

but obviously they get bruce back and no this is his problem bc literally everyone in the league is like "pls keep dick away from tim, his behavior has passed weird and gone into extremely unsettling"

i can't see what happens next bc i can't imagine bruce actually being help but i can see him being a disaster when he tries and that would be funny

this is SO good anon i love all of these things based on that fic so much aaaa

personally when i was writing it, i imagined Jason being the one to break Tim free. not out of wanting to save Tim or anything, but more so seeing it as a chance to make Tim owe him, and just to fuck with Dick. Jason will cause problems because He Can, and while i don't think he would particularly care for the moral implications of Dick holding Tim hostage (Jason was morally all over the place during Dick's Batman era i fear) he's just morbidly curious. that said the idea of Steph being the one to do so is also fun, because for her it *would* be the moral issue as well as caring about Tim. i think the most fun option is somewhere in the middle, where Jason and Steph are forced to team up, each with different end goals and not trusting each other whatsoever. so when they succeed and get Tim safely out of Dick's hold, there's a deep disagreement and slight scuffle over what to do now, Jason trying to manipulate Tim further against Dick and onto his side, whereas Steph is just prioritizing Tim's safety. i think it's fun if Tim is slightly mentally broken, just from how long he was held captive and the realization of Dick's feelings at the end fo the fic. so he's distrusting of anyone he's once trusted, even Steph, that he just slips away to focus on getting Bruce back, leaving both Jason and Steph trying to chase Tim. and course, Dick.

because Dick would of course try to get Tim back, again and again. Damian is trying to reel Dick back, just because he wants Dick's attention and he does sort of believe they should focus on Gotham. and then Steph is also trying to distract Dick to protect Tim. so everyone's tail spinning in the most complicated game of cat and mouse. Steph and Damian are forced on the same side, trying to get Dick to focus on Gotham instead of Tim, just for now. Steph is promising to keep an eye on Tim, Damian is insisting Gotham needs Dick's attention and combined, they're able to at least keep his immediate focus away from Tim, giving Tim time to find his proof. Jason having to save him is just *fun*, because it reinforces how sort of helpless Tim is. he's not up on his training and his become soft and with Dick's need to catch up to him eventually, it puts him in a vulnerable spot he would *hate.* he'd despise needing to be saved by Jason of all people. it'd fuck him up so bad, because all the bad things Jason is saying about Dick are technically true and somehow, the world is so flipped upside down that Jason is the reasonable one. i think it'd make Tim isolate more and more, distancing himself from the Batfamily, even the ones he should trust like Steph. sure, he's on the outs with her (likely still upset from the Search For A Hero arc) but she's looking out for him. and maybe he knows it, deep down, but Tim is just terrified of trusting anyone associated with the Bat name.

and since he can't go to the Batfam with his proof, him going to Oliver is *so* fun. i adore any concept where Oliver is the one to notice something is very wrong in the Batfam i swear anon it's like you're connected to my BRAIN. because sure Oliver doesn't *like* Bruce, but even Oliver knows this is fucked up. the story Tim tells him is a horrifying one. Oliver has always done right by his kids, or at least tried his best to. so to know what Dick pulled is horrifying. there's this implicit trust the entire hero community has in Nightwing that would get badly shaken up and i think that's fun. the Justice League meetings about it would be a shitshow. someone like Clark who's as close to Dick as he is would want to at least hear Dick out, try to understand his point of view. maybe Dick was in the wrong, but he had to have been doing this out of a place of concern and Tim's just twisted up about Dick's intentions. at the very least, trust in Dick is shattered but no one can agree on what to do, if they can do anything at all. it's agreed to keep TIm safe and away from Dick and long talks are had with Dick, but Dick is disturbingly good at being charming and manipulative, convincing them all he's sorry and he knows he took it too far, it's just the stress of the mantle that got to him.

and Bruce coming back would further complicate things in such fun ways. because Bruce will *always* protect and side with Dick. yes, he's worried about Tim, but he refuses to let any negative blowback hit Dick for this. because sure, Bruce would've never done that, but also, Bruce has done equally shitty things so, he's also not going to fully question it. Dick made a judgment call in the heat of the moment, and now, Bruce is going to defend his right to do so. it sends the League even more out of control, because they didn't expect Bruce to be so deeply on Dick's side. the phase "what would Bruce think?" got thrown at Dick a lot by all of them and now, well. they look a bit like fools for it because Bruce has made it clear what he thinks is that Dick had the right to make the call he thought was best as Batman. so while Dick is socially exiled, he doesn't face any *real* consequences. he's still in hero society and is respected as Nightwing and allowed to exist on the League. Dick just patiently waits for it all to blow over because eventually, there's always something more important to focus on that will make people forget about this outside of just a weird bad mistake Dick made.

and the longterm for TIm is fun. because I think he'd keep his distance from Gotham and Bludhaven, mostly keeping around Oliver, given Oliver is one of the few League members still refusing to let it all go, and it gives Tim some kind of safety net. but i think Dick would still try to pursue Tim. Dick would convince himself he just went about it the wrong way, he came on a little too strongly and he can still fix it. he keeps harassing Tim and trying to get Tim to like him back, making it clear he has no real regret for his actions. i think it's fun if Tim is forced to fake a relationship with someone else to get Dick to leave him alone. maybe Jason, maybe Steph. (honestly, this being JayTimSteph could be fun) and that fake relationship ends up developing into something more real, which would make Dick *insanely* jealous. i'm torn between Dick actually taking it too far (possibly forcing himself on Tim) or keeping his distance because both are fun. i'm partial to him forcing himself on Tim, just for the fucked up non-con that Tim has to cope with, knowing nothing he does will get Dick to leave him alone. he learns the best ways to stay safe, but it essentially kills his ability to have a vigilante career bc it puts him too out in the open. he takes a more Oracle-esque role (Tim working with the Birds of Prey could be a lot of fun) and always lives in some kind of fear of Dick catching up to him. it's so fun and fucked up that even when Tim escapes, he doesn't really and he knows it.